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seventhstrife · 3 years

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SubScorp 2021 Day 1: First Kiss

These Grandmasters have ruined my life and I am SO GRATEFUL to the wonderful, brilliant minds at @subscorp-week for making this event!!!

I don’t really post my stuff on tumblr, ever, but I wanted to shamelessly pad the subscorp tag with new content lololol

If you want to read it on AO3, the link is here.

Fic under the cut!

The sudden weight against his upper arm and shoulder startled Kuai Liang and made his hand jerk, dangerously close to dropping the tablet he held.

He glanced sharply to his side and stilled, eyes wide, to see Hanzo slumped against him.

For a brief moment, he thought the worst—that Hanzo was injured somehow, or poisoned, no matter the fact that they had been sitting in companionable silence for the better part of two hours. But he noticed the deep, slow breaths that swelled Hanzo's chest, the smooth, calm set of his features at rest, and knew the truth was far less sinister:

Hanzo had fallen asleep against him.

The realization drew Kuai Liang up short, made deep affection and gratitude swell fit to burst in his chest before he mastered himself and pushed back the sudden, fierce tide of emotion.

Carefully, Kuai Liang set aside his device and reached over to pluck Hanzo's from his limp grasp in his lap to place it on the table before them. They had been going over reports from their clans, compiling the information so that they could compare it against those from General Blade, and they often met to do this; it was dull and mind-numbing at times, but easier to accomplish with company, they'd found, and they were both less likely to procrastinate the work if they did it together.

It wasn't uncommon that such tedious work would stretch into the long hours of the night, and this night was no exception. But this was the first time Hanzo had succumbed to his exhaustion.

And he'd done so in Kuai Liang's presence, no less. The swell of pride could not be wrangled, nor the way he relished this simple, profound display of unthinking trust. It spoke to a level of peace and contentment Kuai Liang had never thought to gain from him, a man who had once been his enemy, a man who had once wished him dead. The ink had dried on their treaty long ago, but it felt as if only now it had cemented.

Kuai Liang cherished every new facet of Hanzo he saw in the days since their alliance, and this proved to be no different. He'd seen Hanzo meditate many times, had even joined him, but he'd never seen him truly in repose.

He knew he should wake Hanzo, call their meeting to a close and encourage him home, but Kuai Liang never claimed not to be a selfish man. It was wrong, undoubtedly, to knowingly linger in a moment of Hanzo's vulnerability, but the warmth of his body pressed close, the soft brush of his hair against his shoulder—he was too compelling.

He had half-expected Hanzo to stir when he'd plucked the tablet from his grasp, but he truly seemed dead to the world. Kuai Liang, hesitant and curious, carefully brought up his arm, gently brushed a lock of hair from across Hanzo's face back over his shoulder where it had come loose from the bun—and still, Hanzo peacefully slumbered on, undisturbed.

A smile twitched on Kuai Liang's lips, a private one of unbearably plain affection. He would never be caught with such an expression, but here, alone in the small hours of the night, he allowed himself this moment.

Hanzo's hands, open and limp in his lap, were another temptation altogether—but he did not dare. He had been lucky, thus far, but he would not be foolhardy.

Only this, Kuai Liang told himself. Such a rare moment of reliance from the normally so disciplined Grandmaster—only extreme overwork and exhaustion had pushed Hanzo this far, and once he woke, Kuai Liang knew this incident would be the only one of its kind.

His heart ached in his chest, bruised and bittersweet, but Hanzo's friendship was something he would not give up for the world.

But the knowledge this moment may very well be the only one that he would ever experience Hanzo's closeness—outside of, perhaps, a spar—gave him courage. Enough that he pressed his lips—just the slightest bit of pressure—to the top of Hanzo's head; his first and last confession.

He regretted the motion the instant it was over. Immediately, he felt the change in the air, the sudden tension in Hanzo's body as he stiffened. It made Kuai Liang respond in kind, utterly still, face drained of blood.

For a moment, they both lingered in that horrible stillness, the silence screaming with panic and dread.

Then, very, very slowly, Hanzo raised his head from Kuai Liang's shoulder. His dark eyes were difficult to meet, but Kuai Liang would not balk, not even from this.

Aside from lifting his head, Hanzo did not move, did not burst into flame or send Kuai Liang crashing through the wall as he half-expected. Yet it was almost worse, somehow, the way he stirred, brows furrowed, expression dark and wary.

Slowly, voice still sleep-roughened, Hanzo spoke.

"...Did you just kiss me."

There was no question, only a flat, emotionless statement that filled Kuai Liang with dread and made him wish dearly for the blow he'd expected.

Mouth dry, already seeing their friendship dissolve before his eyes, Kuai Liang said, just as quietly, "Yes."

Hanzo's eyes widened slightly, as if he hadn't expected the confirmation despite knowing the truth.

He blinked. He searched Kuai Liang's face, but if he was seeking doubt or teasing, or even a lie, Kuai Liang had nothing of the sort to show him, only brutal, unvarnished honesty.

Hanzo glanced away and Kuai Liang braced himself for anything—a gentle rejection, a reprimand. Perhaps only a burst of flame and scorch marks left behind in the spot Hanzo sat.

A quiet breath, and Hanzo met his eyes, the set of his features determined and impassioned.

"Do it again," he commanded.

Kuai Liang was like a mountain, so absolute was his stillness. It was his turn to search Hanzo's face for deception, but there was none to be found, only fire, only a dark smolder—familiar and foreign at once, a dare, a challenge, a promise.

Kuai Liang did not dare try Hanzo's patience with indecision. He forced himself from the tight draw of his body, reached out, fingertips whisper-soft against the short hairs of Hanzo's beard.

"Yes, Grandmaster," Kuai Liang murmured.

For all that he'd longed for a moment such as this, Kuai Liang was unwilling to rush, eager as he was. He pressed his forehead to Hanzo's, soaked in the brush of their noses, of Hanzo's warm breath on his lips, the exquisite expectation that hung in the air, that made his heart slam against his ribs and his hands tremble with the repressed urge to snatch Hanzo close and never let him go—before he came to his senses and realized what he had asked for in his surely sleep-addled state.

But the anticipation compromised years of disciplined training and impatience won out. Kuai Liang tilted his head, just slightly, and kissed Hanzo.

One touch, and Kuai Liang understood why the Lin Kuei had once forbidden attachment. The swell of desire, of aching, near-obsessive addiction, was swift and all-encompassing. Hanzo's lips were warm and dry, just as tentative as his own as they met and parted and met again. And when Hanzo's touch came, one strong fist grasping at the fabric across his chest, Kuai Liang could not stop the tide of fierce, craving want.

Hanzo sucked in a sharp breath when Kuai Liang suddenly surged forward and pushed him back, but he did not resist being pressed to the floor. His arms wrapped around Kuai Liang's shoulders, helped erase even the illusion of distance as their chests met and they sank into one another. Their lips grew bolder, the kiss grew deeper, and it was as if the only air to be had was only what could be found in the other.

Kuai Liang could conceive of nothing more entrancing than the slight hitch of Hanzo's breath when their tongues touched, no sound more seductive than his quiet moans, coaxed out by Kuai Liang's own hands, by his own touch. Nothing had ever enthralled him like the sensation of Hanzo's body, strong and pliant and laid out, willingly, beneath his, nor the silky caress of Hanzo's long hair when he dragged his fingers through it.

Kuai Liang did not regret the reformation of his clan, but for the first time since he'd become Grandmaster, he reflected on the old ways with new understanding. Because this? This bottomless desire, that coaxed all reason from his mind and consumed him absolutely? It felt too good not to be forbidden.

At long last, the annoying, persistent need to breathe pulled their lips away, although they barely strayed more than a few inches as they panted.

Kuai Liang could not drag his eyes away from the rosy flush of Hanzo's skin, the soft flutter of his eyelashes when he opened them, so swept in their passion and only now brought back to reality.

They watched one another a moment, the only sounds to be heard their harsh breaths and the mad thunder of Kuai Liang's heart.

Then, slowly, Hanzo smiled. Pleasure warmed his face into an expression of quiet, almost shy happiness Kuai Liang had never seen before—a smile Kuai Liang had caused.

And when he pressed his lips to Hanzo's again, amidst his low chuckles of happiness, Kuai Liang was smiling, too.

#my stuff #my fics #subscorp week #subscorp week 2021 #@subscorp-week #@summertrapped #@maagspies #subscorp #fluff #first kiss #gen #subscorpweek

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zuffer-weird-girl · 3 years

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Fourth commandment: honor father and mother

Contain spoilers from the manga.

Old writing of mine. Thought about posting so here you go.

I recently find out that the majority of the fics I have more replogs and comments are avout sadness sooo why not shed sone tears for our bird man this time huh?

He smirked at hearing the sound of you singing in the shower. He had just arrived from work and was greeted by what he loved to hear the most, your voice, his dove's voice

The echo the bathroom made only made him smile more at being able to hear such melodies coming out of your sweet lips.

He would tease you now at them about it. But oh, how it ceased the anciety and pain in his heart on terrible days he would just swallow it up for your sake. Knowing very well that your family life wasn't the best anyway. Not perfect, but was good as you would describe it every now at then with a smile; despite his worried frown whenever that was a fight and affected you so badly to the point you cried over his shoulder at night or morning.

His ears pecked up when your humming stopped and smiled lovingly when the melody of your qorda started to come...

'You left and took, my heart suffocated, and it suppressed my pain, a subtle gesture of loveee~'

A chuckle left his lips. He would never learn where the musics you learmed came from. But it didn't meant it was beautiful no less. He stood up from the couch and took careful steps to hear it more without you knowing it.

'Father. Look at this rain outside ... oh my father, I think the time has come...

aandd dont just, sit there to see and vanish it

the chance that already weaves in the past, oh this little boy's soul just is begging it...'

For some reason... that part, made his heart thump hard on his chest... after all. It did reminded the hero of... him.

His father. The reason why his true name was hidden from the public view and completely erased by the comission. The one that constantly beaten up just for him going into the city just to help others. The man that was a thief, a murderer, a liar... a abuser.

Just when he swallowed up another part of your song came up.

"Oh mother, cover me up with your sacred embrace, allow me to be your son, recreate that thought of a shelter, just don’t leave me alone,

your memory is my calm, swords that pierce into my soul.

like the wind of the desert that is so cold...

How I miss your maternal love and your laughter.

the world only brought me slaughter, I lost that old hope of just being a child,

that the smile never fades, they made me just a weapon..

I am still in the quest to be loved~" the shower sounds stopped as you he heard you sigbh and without him noticing, he stormed out of the roon to close himself on his huge closet, a hand on his mouth as tears threteaned to spill from his eyes at the mention of only blinking them.

Keigo's past was never an easy one... his parents never should be used as a example. His mother did fell in love with a criminal, but that didn't make it easier... she wasn't warm, she wasn't the kind of mother that would just embrace him and help the poor boy feel safe, loved nor protected....

God... she made him go get some money and questioned what were the use of his wings, his quirk... what kind of mother says that to a child that was only trying to help dammit!?

Angry drops of tears strated to fall from his eyes as he controlled the harsh breaths and sobs that threatened to escape beforw his whole body tensed and stopped when he heard the source of his comfort on his adult life...

"Honey? Did you come home earlier? Where are you?" He heard you call and took deep breaths before putting on a smile on his face, a so fake smile that surely you would notice right away.

"Right in the big ass closet dove. I was planning to shower a-anyway." He cursed himself the moment his voice cracked as he desperately picked some clothes to wear as he discarded his hero costume with pure anger.

"..Kei?" He flinched at hearing your voice behind him "Baby is something wrong? Tough patrol, is that?" You carresed his feathers gently and he almost whimpered at how delicately your fingertips brushed against it.

"J-Just a bit. Nothing major." He shrugged and made bee line towards to the bathroom as you stood there in pure worry and confusion at the same time. Never Keigo refused your comfort when you two finally passed that time of getting to know each other in your relantionship.

Frowning, you decided that maybe just a time for himself was best as you picked your favorite and warm pajamas and started to get things started to see if Hawks's mood brighten up for just a bit.

Sadly you knew he was trying way too hard to hide the pain. But the echo of his muffled sobs and curses as he ounched the wall wasn't helping him at all...

Brownies on the oven, Fried chicken already ordered and the most you could do of a nest out of pillows and blankets on the living room right in front of the Tv, already open to choose a movie on your boyfriend's will.

The sounds of the water finally stopped as you mentally prepared yourself as you saw your boyfriend in grey sweatpants and red hoodie, wings and hair all dropey as well as his eyes, him rubbing the top of his hair with a towel until his honeyed orbs widened at the sign of the living room and you cursing yourself for burning your hand at taking out the batch of the brownies out of the oven without protection....

"Fuck..." You hissed in anger before a confused sound left you as a warm and bigger hand grasped yours with care and brought the place where you had burned on his oh so kissable lips.

"Maybe you should have waited a bit. Just saying though." He smirked, but not with the usual glint on his eyes as you frowned but playfully scoffed.

"Excuse me? I am Hawks's girlfriend!" You dramatically proclaimed as he snorted "'The young hero that is way too fast for his own good!', so yeah, I guess I have the right of being a bit too anxious to get the set of brownies I made out just on time, thank you very much."

"And burnt yourself along the way." He chuckled as you showed your tongue at him with a smile but his features soon dropped and looked away from you, in hopes you wouldn't catched.

But you did.

"Whats all this for anyway? Am I geting my ass beaten up for forgetting some day important?" You frowned with a smile as you carefully hugged him from behind, mindfull of his wings as his muscles tensed up a bit only to loose as his scarred hand carresed yours over his chest.

"Cant I just spoil my man for a bit? Especially after a tough day?" You sensed his shoulder getting up and dropping with a watery chuckle as he shook his head in disbelief.

"You didn't have to do all this you know? Is not-"

"Dont." You muttered sternly as you let go of him to get right in front of your boyfriend as you cupped his cheeks "Dont say 'is not a big of a deal' with me Takami Keigo. I know you more than yourself as you once said it. Dont hide things that bother you away from me when you help me just as much with my insecurities and problems, alright?" He looked troubled as his eyes dropped to the ground mainly controlling himself as always but you nudge his gaze back up rubbing your nose against his "Alright?" You asked for the second time as his mouth opened and closed like a fish before giving up and nodding, pulling you to him for him to hide his face on the crook of your neck as he hugged your waist tightly, shoulders shaking.

"Aw my prince..." you cooed as you hugged his neck and caressed his nape "What is bothering you, hm? Is it the comission again pressuring you?" He shook his head as you frowned... maybe it was one of his secret missions he couldn't speak about it...

The inter phone ranged, indicating that the food you ordered was here. Moving away from the hug, Keigo only pulled you back as you frowned but soon noticed a couple of his feathers working their way to catch the money and go pick themselves.

"Kei I would pay myself for those!" You poyted as he only tightened his hold on you.

"Is the least I could do dove... please just at least this let me do it."

"Well.. fine. But you have to get a cool movie to watch. No crappy ones."

"... yeah sure."

Now you were alarmed. Not even a "you're the one who chooses the crap one"s ?.... For All Might, what happened to him...?

"Kei..." you almost whimpered, which catched his attention as he looked at you in concern as he cupped your cheeks in worry which you quickly covered with your own "What's going on? Dont tell me is nothing...please, I can see right through you that something is not right..."

Hawks sighed shakily as his eyes looked at the other direction as well as his hands dropped into your waist to pull you close.

"Sounds stupid but... I heard you singing. Beautiful as always..." he smiled as you contained your urge to squeak in embarrassment "But... I dunno, the lyrics of the song catched me off guard I guess? Speaking of father and mother's love or some shit..." he chuckled dryly as you frowned, catresing the rebel strands of blong hair making their way into his face.

"So it has to do with them? Did they contacted you or something?" You asked softy as you carresed his cheek and was meeted with a shook of his head and a sarcastic chuckle.

"Why would I? She is happy with me far away from her, a nice home to live in... as far for the old man, he..." he sighed heavily "I could care less. Neither of them cared so sometimes I ask myself why the fuck they didn't used the goddamn protection if they didn't want a brat to "ruin" their lifes?!" He sobbed as he clinged to you "he himself made the favor of saying the freacking condom was beaides but he made the mistake of not using it! What kind of dad says that to their kid of six years (Y/n)?! F-FUCKING SIX YEARS! I KNOW I WAS A DAMN MISTAKE BUT DID THEY HAVE TO RUB IT ON MY FACE ALL THE FUCKING TIME?!" Your heart broke in more than two pieces at seing him in this state before you guided him to the make shift nest to pull him down.

"Stop this, Kei-" you shushed him softly as he gulped harshly, gritting his teeth to mantain his tears at bay "If they werent careful, fuck them, this doesn't matter to us. They dont matter. But what they done, it wasn't a fucking mistake. It was a miracle and a blessing. My hero, my boyfriend was born because of these two, so stop saying that you being born was a mistake!" You cried while he stopped grinding his teeth to look at you dumbfounded.

"Your wings saved more people than anyone can count." You whispered tearfully as your hands carresed them before cupping his cheek "You saved more people than anyone can count. You matter not only for me but for a shit ton of people!"

"... you're getting worked up because of this tantrum I threw-" he mumbled only fro widen his eyes at the how you almost screamed.

"Of course I am worked up! Who wouldn't be?! Whenever I have shit to deal with, you get angry at whoever hurted me, so damn well I will get pissed off with or who whatever makes you fell less like the shining bright passionate and beautiful hero that you are Takami Keigo!" You poked his chest angrily before breathing in and out to contain your tears as he finally cracked a toothless smile at your state.

"You... You're so perfect you know that?" You angry face soon vanish at the way he looked at you like you were the solution for all of his problems, like an angel that came to hush all of his dark voices that haunted him at night with nightmares... a look with so much love that almost made you tear up again as a smile cracked into your lips.

"Dammit... love im trying to stay serious..." you hugged and peppered his face with kisses all over until he was chuckling heartless and turning his face enough for your lips to land on his instead of his skin.

You both were breathless as you were on top of him and carresed his golden looks with heart eyes as he closed them with lopsided smile at the pets and all the sweet gestures you did for him, and him only.

"Kei.." he hummed "Seriously, stop thinking about what your parents thought or think of you. They opinion doesn't matter, specially considering who they are and what they done so far... but dont hold hatred either because it only prejudices you, not them." He opened his eyes slowly and stared at the ceiling.

"... i cant actually forgive them. I dont feel I could even if I tried..."

"Im not saying for you to forgive them Kei." You stared at him as he arched one of his eyebrows that you surely need to trim at least tommorow "They are the same thing as the commission if you think about it. Their feelings or opinions towards you doesn't mean anything. Because you, birdboy, are the greatest human being in all world and everything I could even ask for." You smushed his cheeks together causing him to chuckle watery.

"You're gonna make me cry again birdie.." he prosteted heartly as you kissed both of his cheeka then his lips lovingly.

"Then at least be tears of joy, hm?" You hummed as his gaze soften and let tou peck his lips "The food is going to get cold, Im going to grab the plates okay?"

He groaned(whined?) While hugging your waist tighter and pressing his head down on your collarbone "Dont leave now, you're warm..."

"Keigo, you're basically a walking furnace especially with this hoodie, you will live." You giggled when he huffed and looked up at you with a pout.

"My feathers can go grab it then, you stay right where you are. Arent this suppose to be for me after all?"

"You've been gotten lazier every day it passes huh chicken little?" You carresed the apple of his cheeks as he tsked.

"Lazy my ass, I almost never have a day off..." he mumbled before nuzzling on your neck and sighing in bliss.

"Maybe if I pester them enough you can get some... but for now lets just rest here and enjoy the peace and quiet eh?"

"Hmm..." he hummed on your neck, causing vibrations to tickle your skin as you laughed and grabbed the packet his feathers brought, taking a package of nuggets out and almost getting to eat one until a certain bird brain just looked up and opened his mouth.

"You're such a cutie brat you know that?" You plopped the chicken nugget on his mouth as he hummed lovingly before smilling at you one more time.

"First, yeah I think as myself as pretty adorable-ouch!" You snorted at his expression after you pinched his ribs "Second... I love you.. so much." He mmurmured, face getting back on the crock of your neck.

"I love you more..." you kissed tenderly his temple and carresed his back while laying down on the huge amount of pillows.

"I love you more." He grunted.

"Dont argue with me on this!" You giggled as he chuckled.

"But is true... you're my love, my home, my family... my world."

"Takami Keigo if you make me cry one more time I swear Im beating you out of our nest."

"WHa?! WHY?!"

"BECAUSE YOU DO THIS ON PURPOSE YOU ASS!"

"IM NOT EVEN DOING ANYTHING!" He laughed at your desperate laughter and just laying back on the safety of your arms as he breathed in and finally felt the anxiety of earlier completely vanishing.

Yeah... fuck what his parents thought of him. What matters to him is when he is finally popping the big question and making you oficially his.

==============

(A/n) if anypne interested, the start of "song" is actually from a brazilian rap dedicated for gaara, naruto and sasaku called "sem familia" or in english "no family"

#hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #bnha heroes x reader #hawks #takami keigo #keigo needs love #zuffer writingbnha fanfiction #bnha fanfics #bnha heroes

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sentakushimasu · 3 years

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if i can't taste your lips just let me taste blood

pairing: bakugou katsuki/kirishima eijirou summary: work studies are meant to be educational, not fatal, but bakugou and kirishima are trapped with a growing puddle of blood and no way to get out genre: hurt/comfort, whump word count: 2.6k warnings: blood, hospitals, bakugou trying to articulate emotions title from: we are the dirt - it's never enough AO3

When Kirishima came to it was with a lot of confusion and pain. The first thing he noticed was the searing pain emanating from his abdomen that blurred and subdued his other senses. The second thing he noticed was that it was really dark.

Dark to the point where he wasn’t sure if he was opening his eyes at all, unable to figure out where the hell he was or how he got there.

The pain, however, was very clearly not a fixture of his foggy and disoriented brain. It kept getting worse, the burning sensation reaching all the way down to his feet. In the haze of pain he couldn’t pinpoint any actual injury, only able to tell that there was something really heavy pressing down on his midsection.

The whine he let out was involuntary, but if he was alone he was going to make as many pathetic noises as he wanted.

Only, he wasn’t alone.

“Kirishima? Kirishima, are you awake?”

That was Bakugou’s voice, but Bakugou never called him by his name, and especially not with the worry that currently saturated his tone.

Kirishima grumbled and tried to push the weight off him. It was so heavy, borderline crushing him but he couldn’t get it to move. What he assumed were Bakugou’s hands swatted his away from whatever was pinning him down.

“Fucking hell, would you stop that?”

Kirishima squirmed again, trying desperately to get even a little bit of the weight off him. “There’s something on top of me-”

“Yeah, that’s me. You’re bleeding.”

“Hmm? Sorry,” Kirishima floundered until his fingers connected with Bakugou’s wrist, looping around the limb. “You can stop, I’m alright.”

“What the fuck? No. You’re fucking bleeding everywhere.”

Bakugou’s face came slightly more into focus as Kirishima’s eyes adjusted to the darkness. He kept looking between Kirishima’s abdomen and his face. He looked worried, and if Kirishima didn’t value his life he would dare say that Bakugou was scared. He was still in his hero gear, the stupid theatric spikes framing his head, a distinct trail of blood marring his features as it trailed down his face from his hairline.

“Are you hurt?” Kirishima couldn’t help but ask.

“What? No.”

“You’re bleeding,” Kirishima supplied helpfully.

Bakugou narrowed his eyes and turned back to the wound, applying more pressure. “Not as much as you.”

Swallowing the whine in the back of his throat, Kirishima decided to actually start a conversation with his friend. He had no idea how long they would be there and he wasn’t into spending that uncertain length of time in tense silence with Bakugou. “What happened?”

“Work study. Big villain attack so Endeavour sent us out as backup. One of ‘em cornered you in here so I came to tell ‘em to fuck off but you were on the ground and when I exploded the asshole, the fucking ceiling caved in.”

“At least I’m not stuck in here by myself, hmm? That would be unfortunate.”

It was supposed to have been a joke, something to lighten the mood between them but Bakugou’s expression remained firm as he offered no reply.

“How bad is it?”

Bakugou paused, the silence hanging heavily between them. “It’s fine, you’re gonna be fine.”

Kirishima just hummed. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Dark spots peppered his vision and he was beginning to realise how tired he felt. He knew Bakugou was fighting a losing battle.

“I’m not fucking lying, okay? You’re going to be fine.”

“It’s okay, Bakugou. Can I just ask you to do something before I die?”

“You’re not going to die, you asshole. Fat Gum is going to come for you, you know he’d never leave you here.”

The exhaustion was creeping in with the tingling sensation in his arms and legs. He was so cold. He had half a mind to ask Bakugou to set off some explosions and hopefully warm the air. But they were trapped with potentially limited oxygen and Bakugou was too smart to ever risk that. “Is he going to be fast enough? You said there was a villain, he’s probably too busy.”

“Shut up!” Bakugou snapped, his expression and tone immediately softening as the harshness registered. “You’re not dying today. Or tomorrow. Or any day that I’m alive to see. I won't let you.”

Kirishima closed his eyes, letting himself imagine what it would be like to die with Bakugou by his side. A cruel part of his chest tightened as he imagined asking Bakugou to hold him before he passed out.

The taste of blissful unconsciousness lay heavy on the back of his tongue as he spoke. “Will you stay? I don’t wanna go alone.”

“You’re not going fucking anywhere, and I’m not gonna leave you.”

“I think I’m dying, Katsu.”

Kirishima could see the way Bakugou flinched at the use of the nickname. He would have apologised for being so informal but he was tired and he didn’t have the energy to be sorry for trying to feel close to Bakugou in his last moments.

Perhaps the reaction had been to the idea of Kirishima dying, but that seemed less likely. Bakugou was persistent in reminding everyone that he didn’t care about anything or anyone other than becoming number one. Kirishima had always admired his determination but right now he just wanted to pretend that Bakugou cared about him.

Falling in love with Bakugou Katsuki was probably the dumbest decision of Kirishima’s life but he would never live to regret it. Not while Bakugou stayed with him, trying to staunch the flow of blood from a wound that was likely severe enough to render Bakugou’s efforts useless.

The older boy didn’t look at him. “You’re just delirious from the blood loss, you’ll be okay.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

��Because you’re fucking bleeding out!”

“Yeah,” Kirishima mumbled with the limited energy he had left, “but why is it suddenly a big deal? You've said repeatedly that you don’t care about anyone else.”

“I lied,” Bakugou hissed through his teeth, his jaw clenched with such force that Kirishima was worried the bone would shatter under the pressure.

Kirishima’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion. Well that made no sense.“Why would you lie?”

“Because I love you, goddamnit! So you’re going to stay awake and we’re going to get out of this and go on a date or some shit, but we can only do that if you stay awake, okay?”

Oh. Kirishima tried to speak, but his tongue felt like a lead weight in his mouth that he couldn’t lift no matter how hard he tried. The fog was pressing in on him much harder now.

Bakugou’s voice was muffled by the fog as he spoke again. “Fucking say something. I just confessed my feelings for you, you don’t get to fucking ignore me now.”

Kirishima was aware that he should be worried by the way it was taking more and more of his energy to keep his eyes open, but he couldn’t find the strength to care about anything other than the fact that Bakugou just said he loves him.

“Kirishima?”

“No- No, fuck, no, Kirishima you have to keep your eyes open!” Kirishima hadn’t even noticed they’d fallen shut, but he couldn’t seem to open them again, despite how much he wanted to stare into Bakugou’s red eyes forever.

Kirishima could feel something tapping on his cheek, shaking his shoulder. Bakugou’s voice was so broken and raw when he spoke his plea. “Kiri, please.”

That’s weird, Bakugou never says please.

As the last shreds of consciousness left him, Kirishima swore he could hear muffled yelling somewhere close to his head, he couldn’t make out the words.

But it didn’t hurt anymore.

Kirishima didn’t expect to wake up.

It was as simple as that.

He had been bleeding badly enough that Bakugou hadn’t even let him look, and had seemed genuinely worried and afraid for his friend’s wellbeing. So at that point, waking up was a feat on its own.

Waking up without being in excruciating pain was something else entirely. He just felt floaty and not real. But he definitely wasn’t dead because he was uncomfortable and the lights behind his close eyelids were way too bright.

“I would try to send you back to the dorms but I know you won’t listen to me even if I erase your quirk and drag you kicking and screaming out of here,” Aizawa’s gruff voice said from a place Kirishima couldn’t pinpoint. There was a lot of aural input that just dissolved into directionless static.

“I’m not leaving him.”

That was Bakugou’s voice, with its hard edge and underlying fire. It cut through the haze of Kirishima’s lingering unconsciousness, it didn’t have the same fuzzy edge to the syllables that Aizawa’s voice had.

Aizawa must have clicked his tongue before speaking again in his monotonous drawl. “You need to rest too. That concussion isn’t going to go away on its own.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bakugou bit back.

“Then, pray tell, what matters more than your health?”

“He does.”

He wanted to fight against the stupor, to reach out and smack Bakugou upside the head. His friend was concussed, and chose not to rest, in favour of keeping a bedside vigil. At this point, it was the only thing that was convincing Kirishima that he didn’t hallucinate what Bakugou said before he passed out.

Not that it made much sense.

“Kirishima would want you to take care of yourself.” Kirishima is going to shake Aizawa’s hand the second he can muster up the energy to do so.

“Kirishima also wanted to die of blood loss and traumatise me instead of just staying awake, so I’m not going to listen to what that asshole wants.”

“You know as well as I do that the doctor said he probably won’t be coherent until tomorrow morning even if he does wake up tonight. I can drive you back to the dorm and pick you up before visiting hours.”

Kirishima could practically hear Bakugou shaking his head. “I’m not leaving him alone.”

“He won’t be alone. Fat Gum and I will be here all night.”

Bakugou’s next words were haunted, hollowed out to fit an emotion Kirishima had never heard from the older boy. “He asked me to stay with him.”

“And you did, you saved his life,” a third voice added. Kirishima was cognizant enough to be able to recognise it as being his mentor.

“Go to bed, Bakugou,” Kirishima mumbled, scrunching his eyes up tightly as consciousness fully came back to him. He wished someone would turn the light off.

“Kirishima?” There was too much noise in that moment for Kirishima to figure out who had spoken, but he suspected that all of them had something to say about his return to wakefulness.

He tried to lift his hand, hoping to cover his eyes from the bright lights of what was undoubtedly a hospital room, only to find it pinned in place.

Opening his eyes to the onslaught of light revealed that his hand was being firmly held in Bakugou’s. Okay, forget his previous claims, he was definitely dead. Or, at the very least, having the best dream of his life.

Kirishima groaned. “You guys are loud.”

“Sorry, kid,” Aizawa said in his usual grumble. His chair was the furthest away from Kirishima, sitting all the way in the corner of the room. He looked the same amount of disheveled as he usually did but his posture held a weird tension that Kirishima wasn’t sure he had ever seen before.

“How are you feeling?” Fat Gum asked, he was out of his hero suit which, to Kirishima, looked very odd.

“Pretty okay, all things considered,” Kirishima said, directing his gaze towards his friend.

Bakugou was the most noticeably different. His hair was scruffy and matted with blood, a stark white rectangle of gauze taped to his forehead, a few little strips holding a cut on his eyebrow together. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t let go of Kirishima’s hand either.

Feeling particularly spontaneous, probably due to the bucket full of pain meds that were undoubtedly currently in his system, Kirishima gave Bakugou’s hand an experimental squeeze.

Bakugou stiffened but the tension quickly left his body as he squeezed back, turning to meet Kirishima’s eyes and give him a soft smile.

Their exchange was silent but they said all they needed to.

I heard you.

I love you too.

Kirishima tried to adjust himself, to get a better look at Bakugou’s injuries. Only to promptly collapse back onto the hospital bed as pain blasted through all of his senses.

“Idiot,” Bakugou hissed.

“Take it easy,” Fat Gum said, “you were in surgery for a long time, you don’t need to be pushing yourself.”

Still trying to breathe through the pain, Kirishima opened one eye to look at the pro hero.

“Surgery?” he managed to grit out from between his clenched teeth.

Fat Gum’s eyes softened as he looked at his mentee. “We found you both not long after you lost consciousness, but you were in rough shape. You’re going to need to take it easy for a while.”

Kirishima groaned. “That sounds boring.”

“Not as boring as an extended recovery period because you refused to take care of yourself,” Aizawa chided.

“True,” Kirishima said. “What time is it?”

Fat Gum was the one to speak this time. Bakugou stayed remarkably silent. “A little past midnight, you spent six hours in surgery and we’ve been waiting for you to wake up for about two hours now.”

“And Bakugou isn’t in bed?”

“Nope. We tried but he won’t budge. Better to let it happen at this point.”

Kirishima rolled his head to the other side, narrowing his eyes at Bakugou and the older boy’s stony expression. “Go to sleep.”

Bakugou met his gaze with his usual stubborn fire. “You first.”

“If you stay, will you sleep?”

Bakugou nodded.

“Aizawa-sensei, can he stay?”

Kirishima had expected Aizawa to argue, but he was just met with a soft “okay”.

Whether it was the cocktail of medication or the trauma his body had suffered, tiredness hit Kirishima like a wave. As his blinking slowed down, he swore he saw a soft smile grace Bakugou’s lips before his other hand reached up to brush Kirishima’s hair out of his face.

“Goodnight, Kirishima.”

Kirishima just hummed, too tired to speak.

Kirishima woke up the next morning with Bakugou wrapped around his arm that was free of tubes and wires, snoring softly.

Carefully picking up his other hand and ignoring the presence of the IV in the crook of his elbow, he began to thread his fingers through Bakugou’s messy hair. The older boy didn’t stir, a true testament to how exhausted he really was, especially considering on any other day Kirishima could breathe sideways and Bakugou would all but leap to his feet.

Instead, Bakugou’s hold just tightened slightly as he mumbled something in his sleep.

A quick glance around the room told Kirishima that Aizawa was asleep in his chair in the corner, his face buried in his capture scarf, surprisingly sans his usual yellow sleeping bag. Fat Gum was nowhere to be seen but judging by the empty chair with a blanket on the seat and jacket draped over the back, he couldn’t be far away.

There was a weird bliss to the quiet atmosphere of the hospital room. The soft morning light filtered in through the window as opposed to the harsh lights of the night before.

The pain meds took away from the discomfort of being in a hospital, and with Bakugou clinging to him like he was the most important thing in the world was something Kirishima could easily be convinced was a dream, a fantasy conjured by his unconscious mind.

He could get used to this.

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #kiribaku #bakugou x kirishima #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #mha fanfiction #mha fic #bnha fic #bnha fanfiction #kiribaku fanfic #max.doc #boku no hero academia

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noire-pandora · 3 years

Text

Stay

My last work for @14daysdalovers. Thank you so much for hosting this, I had so much fun writing for it and reading everyone’s work. Can’t wait for the next one!

Also, a big thank you to the ones that liked/reblogged/left comments on my fics. I am really grateful for your encouragement. It really helped me to write more.

“Ask me to stay” and “ Wearing the Other’s Clothes”. Also on my AO3

Pairing: Solavellan

Words: 2744

Warnings: none.

The soft sound of charcoal scraping on the paper lulled Solas into a deep state of concentration, the monotonous music of the movement relaxing him as his mind diligently absorbed the knowledge hidden in the pages of Lady Gihni's book.

The nimble fingers guiding the charcoal on paper belonged to Elluin, who kept him company tonight. She sat on the floor, cross-legged, hunched above her sketchbook precariously balanced on her knees. She adamantly refused Solas' suggestion to join him in bed, claiming sitting on the floor helped her concentrate. He let her be, grateful they could share a few hours together, alone, with no unwelcome guest or dignitary to require the Inquisitor's attention.

While the hours passed, sleep made his eyes heavy, the Fade buzzing at the back of his mind, but he ignored its call, eager to spend more time with her, even if midnight found them still awake. At night, she could be his, and they could be just two lovers enjoying each other's presence, with no titles to separate them. At day, he had no right to ask for her company, as she belonged to her duty but, as the sun went down, he craved her presence and treasured every moment spent with her.

A sudden, long sigh coming from Elluin startled him, and he rapidly blinked to bring his attention back to the present moment. He closed the book and abandoned it on the bed, his attention shifting to her.

"Is something bothering you, Vhenan?" he inquired, a curious expression crossing his face, and he moved to glance at her.

A frown pulled hard at the corners of her mouth as she squeezed the charcoal between her fingers. She sighed again and rubbed her chin thoughtfully, staining her skin with the black powder. "I'm trying to sketch Dorian, but his face looks weird. I don't know what's wrong."

The bed creaked when he left it to join Elluin on the cold floor, his shoulder brushing against hers, the warmth of her body urging him to close the distance between them. His hand slipped around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

A half-finished drawing of Dorian took form on the paper, his features brought to life by the rich lines. He stood at a desk, a frown of concentration knitting his eyebrows as he studied a large tome. Solas took a minute to scrutinise his face, his eyes patiently analysing the lines on her creation.

"I believe his jawline is too prominent," he concluded, one of his fingers hovering above the lines of Dorian's face." The line of his jaw is softer."

"What?" she frowned at him. "Dorian has a strong jawline."

"Yes, but not as sharp as you sketched it. I believe that jawline is more suited for me."

"For you?" she stared at him for a few seconds and trailed a finger down the side of his face, tracing his jaw. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, a shiver of pleasure coursing down his spine at the touch. "You're right. I've been studying the beautiful lines of your face for too long, and my mind blended them with Dorian's. Tomorrow I'll sneak into the library when he's not paying attention and—why are you smirking like that?"

He chuckled at her words, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "It has been a while since anyone praised my beauty."

He could barely contain a self-satisfied smirk from spreading across his lips. His hand left her back, and he turned to face her, tucking his legs under him, his knees touching her outer thigh." You think the lines of my face are beautiful?"

She shot him an incredulous look, cocking an eyebrow. "Of course. Why are you so surprised? I'm sure I'm not the only one who told you that."

She gave him a lopsided grin and changed her position to imitate his. Her sketchbook opened on the floor between them. "Really? When was the last time?"

"When I was young."

Memories of times long gone shuffled unexpectedly through his mind, but he gently pushed them away, back to that corner of his memory where he hid his secrets. He forced himself to stay anchored in the present, to lavish in the comfort and the safety her presence brought to him. To fully enjoy the sensation, he had not felt for hundreds of years.

She leaned forward, her gaze never leaving his as her fingertips drew circles on his left knee. Her fingers were so warm, and the caress was so gentle that his skin prickled at the contact. "When you were 'bold and cocky'?"

He grinned at her, hoping she didn't notice how much that simple touch tantalised him. "Yes."

She hummed and studied his face for a long moment, a curious gleam in her eyes. "That must have been quite a sight."

To his surprise, silence fell between them as she turned her attention back to the sketchbook. He swallowed hard, wishing she continued caressing him.

He watched her as she ripped the page with the failed drawing from her sketchbook and crumpled it into a ball to set it ablaze with her magic. A trail of smoke rose from it, and he followed its sinuous journey through the air, his thoughts pulling him away from the present, the same ideas that came into his mind when he laid on his bed, half asleep and wondering.

Wondering how it would have been if they met thousands of years ago when Elvhenan still stood proud? Would she love him? Would she join his rebellion? He knew it was a foolish thought, but he wished they could have met back then and not now, not in this world he could not understand. Here, he could only show a faint shadow of his passion, of his love. In Arlathan, he would have done anything to make her happy; he would have given himself entirely to her. If only his plan succeeded. He closed his eyes to hide the emotions residing there, afraid she might read them and question him.

"Do you think we'd get along if we met when we were young?" she finally spoke, forcing him to ignore his thoughts once again, surprised she has been thinking about the same matter.

He opened his eyes again and stared ahead at the wall behind her, contemplating the idea. "Yes. But I do believe our strong personalities would clash a few times. As it happened when we first met."

She nodded in agreement, a solemn expression on her face. "Yes, two young, stubborn elves butting heads. I guess we'd end up bickering about everything," her charcoal danced again on the paper, her fingers leading it to draw a few bold, seemingly random lines. "It took us a bit to get along after we met, didn't it?"

"Indeed"

He looked at her work, and a faint smile grew again on his lips as he realised she was drawing him. This time his face looked younger, with no wrinkles or laugh lines to mark the passage of time.

She stopped suddenly, her gaze shifting from her drawing to his face and stopping at the ceiling. She studied it, her fingers twirling the charcoal piece, and he understood she had another question for him. One that might surprise or annoy him.

"What is it? You may ask."

She still eyed a point above his head, intentionally avoiding his gaze, spiking his curiosity. "I would've loved to draw you back then. Do you think the younger you would've let me?

"Yes."

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and this time she allowed him to look into her eyes. "Even nude?"

"I," he began, ready to give a negative answer. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, at a loss of words but sighed, defeated. As much as he wanted to deny that, he knew his younger self too well. "Yes."

She laughed, slapping her thigh. "Really? You were that different?"

He nodded." I was. It would have been impossible to refuse a request from a beautiful woman like yourself. My younger self would not resist you."

"Resist me? Now I'm curious about how it would go," she purred, her eyes falling to his lips.

"You would get your drawing," he paused and slowly licked his lower lip with the tip of his tongue. "Eventually."

Undistilled desire poured through him at the thought of spending a night together in Arlathan, and he swallowed hard, his throat drying at the mental image. A strong wish to erase all the distance between them nagged him, his fingers twitching in anticipation, but he denied himself that joy. No matter how much he wanted her, he had no right to ask for more than a few heated kisses from her. Not when parts of him were still hidden from her.

He searched her face for any hidden signs of desire, but he couldn't see any. Instead, she wore a pensive expression, her unfocused gaze locked on the piece of charcoal resting on her opened palm. He knew that expression as she wore it every time uncertainty hung over her.

He shuffled closer, her warm breath tickling his skin. He tucked a wayward strand of her chin-length hair behind her ear and chuckled when the curl stubbornly escaped. Slowly, his hand slid down the side of her face in a warm caress, his fingers finally cupping her chin and lifting it until their eyes met.

"Even then," he whispered with a gentleness that surprised him. "I would have loved you. As I do now," slowly, he leant forward, his lips touching hers in a soft caress. She answered, lightly tasting him.

She broke the kiss, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. She rubbed the back of her neck, looking down at the floor. "I... thank you, Solas."

He attentively watched her, curious if today will be the day when she will utter those three words, but the hesitance in her gestures made him realise it won't happen. He had no desire to pressure her into confessing her love for him, her gestures enough for him to understand how much she cared, but curiosity nagged him. Curiosity and confusion at why, a woman as powerful as she was, found it hard to say it. She jumped in front of the danger with no second thoughts and challenged anyone who dared to badmouth her, but she became uncharacteristically quiet when he confessed his love for her. He knew she had other lovers before him, and yet love left her speechless. Or it was just his love? Another mystery her soul held, one he was eager to understand.

"I should go," she suddenly said, slipping the charcoal into the pocket of her trousers and closing her sketchbook. "I'm sure your spirit friends miss you."

He got up at the same time she did, but instead of letting her go, as he always did, he reached for her hand, barely touching her fingers.

"Stay with me tonight."

She blinked a few times at him, her hand squeezing his fingers. "Are you sure? Last time I did that, you left in a hurry."

The first night they spent together sleeping in the same bed almost brought his nighttime fantasies to reality, and, with a heart-shattering effort, he had to abruptly put an end to the moment, leaving her confused and unsatisfied. Since then, they haven't shared a bed anymore

"I am."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "We're going to sleep in the same bed, right?"

"Yes."

"Really?" she asked in surprise, eyeing the bed.

"Yes, Vhenan. But if you mind it, you can refuse me," he let go of her, allowing her to leave if she wished it.

She waved the sketchbook in the air, rolling her eyes at him. "I don't mind it at all, Solas. But I know you enjoy your loneliness.

He reached for her hand and planted a soft kiss on the centre of her palm before speaking again. "I do. But I enjoy your presence much more."

"All right, I'll stay," she confirmed, giggling at the light touch of his lips. "I need to get my nightwear from my room."

"No need, I can lend you one of my sleeping tunics."

He made his way towards the small closet sitting in the opposite corner of his room and opened it, searching for one of the sleeping tunics Josephine ordered for him. He found a cotton one he never wore and handed it to her. She accepted it, grinning at him.

"Aren't you always so kind?"

She set down her sketchbook on a chair and reached for her blouse to take it off. Instantly he turned his back on her. She snorted at his reaction, but he felt no shame in it. Offering her intimacy was the least he could do.

"How do I look?" she asked after a minute, her shirt and pants neatly folded resting on the chair, above her sketchbook.

He turned around to face her, and his heart thumped as his eyes followed the lines of her body. Her shoulders were bare, the sleeves of the tunic slipping on her tiny arms, revealing her freckled kissed skin and the scars adorning her right shoulder. The tunic reached her knees, exposing her short and thin legs with knobby knees. He forced himself to take his eyes off her and answer the question. "Comfortable."

She spun on one heel, and he found himself dumbstruck by her beauty. Even in simple clothing, she still charmed him. What a fool he was, thinking nothing in this world could capture his attention.

"I actually feel really comfortable. No wonder you're wearing this all the time."

"I do not wear my sleeping tunics at day time, Vhenan."

She giggled, beaming at him. "Are you sure about that? They look the same."

With a sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing how much she loved to tease his clothing choices. "Yes, I am sure."

She stuck her tongue out at him over her shoulder as she made her way towards the bed. He shook his head at her, amused by her behaviour, but his eyes lingered on her hips, delighted by their shape. He gritted his teeth in annoyance at his nagging need to touch her body.

The worn-out bed-springs creaked under Elluin's weight as she lay in it, a sight of comfort slipping her lips.

"Are you coming?" she asked him, eyes closed, pulling the blanket close to her chin.

"In a second," he answered, taking off his shirt, neatly folding it to place it above her clothes. He yawned and stretched his arms above his head, his joins popping loudly. Elluin lazily opened her eyes at the noise, only to snap them wide open at the sight of Solas' bare torso. Pride washed over him, noticing the shy blush tingeing her cheeks pink, content he could still impress a woman with his physique . "Is it bothering you? If it does, I can--"

"No, no, it's fine," she stammered, shaking her head. "I forgot you like to sleep shirtless. Make yourself comfortable. I don't mind it."

The bed protested again as Solas joined her under the blanket. He pulled her close, her back resting against his chest, his arms wrapping around her tummy. She giggled when he kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"Good night, Solas."

"Good night. I will search for you in the Fade."

She hummed in agreement, reaching for his hands and intertwining her fingers with his. He watched her as she slowly drifted into sleep, her chest rising and falling as she inhaled and exhaled, the soft sound of her breath lulling him to sleep, to embrace the calling of the Fade.

"Solas?" she whispered in the darkness a few minutes later, startling him.

"Hmmm?"

"I love you."

With eyes widened in surprise, he opened his mouth to speak but hesitated, his breath catching in his throat. When he spoke again, his voice quivered. "I love you too, Elluin."

He buried his nose in her hair, breathing in her scent, the perfume of the lily of the valley salve she used to tame the curls of her hair, overwhelming his senses. It was the scent of love and acceptance. It gave him hope that maybe, maybe, this world he used to hate could be his new home. Their home.

#14DALovers #solavellan #ask me to stay #wearing the other's clothes #solas #lavellan #elluin lavellan #i had so much fun participating in this #i remember last year i read all the works thinking woa these people are so cool for participating in this #i had no idea i will do it the next year #it's a nice feeling #thanks for hosting it

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cinnaminsvga · 4 years

Photo

🌸 social media au where y/n posts a fake boyfriend application on twitter as a dare but ends up seeking something real in the long run (aka how to fall in love the zillennial way) 🌸

A/N: RIP Jungkook... When will he catch a break, I wonder? Who is Hoseok to him anyway? Much to think about... Also I’m just gonna say this, but Jungkook is literally the most unreliable narrator I’ve ever had to write, so take that in mind when you read this. Enjoy! || W.C. 2K

prev // part 14 of ? // next masterlist here.

[updates every 6PM PST]

It takes another 10 minutes or so until the maintenance guy manages to rescue both Jungkook and Namjoon out of the elevator. Luckily, the elevator didn’t stop midway between floors so they didn’t have to crawl or climb out, so getting out is a quick and easy ordeal once the doors are opened. Jungkook breathes a sigh of relief, but that moment of calm is short-lived when he hears Namjoon clear his throat behind him.

“Umm… Jungkook-ssi, right?” Namjoon addresses him by his name for the first time. Jungkook jumps up in surprise, though he should have known that you would have ratted him out when you found out he was intentionally ignoring the taller boy.

“I… Yeah. And you’re Namjoon,” Jungkook doesn’t even bother tacking on the question mark at the end, too worn out mentally to bother pretending like he’d only suddenly realized. He rubs the back of his neck, thankful that he’s turned away from Namjoon so that he doesn’t see the flash of annoyance across his face.

Without another word, Jungkook begins climbing the last two flights of stairs to reach your shared apartment. He doesn’t turn to see if Namjoon follows, though he does hear the extra pair of footsteps close by.

When they file into your shared home, the awkward tension magnifies tenfold. While Namjoon and Jungkook had been gone, it seems that Hoseok has already made himself comfortable, laughing jovially at something you said as he helps you bring the last remaining pairs of cutlery to the table. Jungkook looks over at the new visitor from the corner of his eye and notices the way Hoseok has his gaze locked fervently on you as you fussed over everyone’s seating arrangements.

“Oh, Jungkook! Namjoon!” You shove Yoongi’s plate towards him the moment you hear the door open, sprinting over to the two of them. Your hair is in complete disarray, slightly frizzy in places even after you had painstakingly taken an hour this morning trying to look presentable. Even so, Jungkook can’t help the way his heart beats a little faster when you envelop him in a tight hug, as you’ve always looked cute to him no matter what. When he wraps his arms around you to return the embrace, he feels you lower your lips near his ears. “You’re in big fucking trouble, mister. We’re talking after all of this is over,” you whisper darkly. He gulps audibly when you separate, the smile on your face is eerily present.

Thankfully, you don’t hug Namjoon as well, though an apology is out of your mouth before Jungkook can distract you. “Namjoon, I’m so sorry again. I wish I had warned you about the elevator sooner,” you pout, but Namjoon is quick to waive your concerns.

“Hey, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know. All that matters is that we’re here now.” He smiles warmly, his dimples on full display. You clear your throat, staring wide-eyed at him, no doubt dumbstruck by his handsome features. Jungkook tries to relax the tick in his jaw, but to no avail. Instead, he marches past the two blushing fools, eager to get away.

Since your apartment is quite small, you set most of the food onto the coffee table, with everyone either sitting on the floor or on the couch. Jungkook is quick to take a seat next to you on the couch, but that also forces him to have Seokjin on his other side. The elder winks salaciously at him, which Jungkook pointedly ignores.

Namjoon and Hoseok take a tentative seat on the other side of the coffee table. Namjoon’s gangly legs make it difficult for him to fold himself in properly, so you offer to switch places with him instead, much to Jungkook’s dread. Namjoon glances at him for a moment before hesitantly accepting your offer, squishing himself on Jungkook’s right side on their small, sunken couch. He can feel rather than hear Seokjin’s attempts to mask his nefarious giggles.

You seat yourself beside Hoseok, who smiles widely back at you. “Sorry, I totally forgot to introduce myself. I’m Y/N! I’ve heard all about you from Namjoon.”

“Really? Well, I hope it’s only been good things,” he says. “To be honest, I don’t think I’d see you again after that time in––“

“I’m going to fucking start eating now!” Jungkook interrupts, stabbing his chopsticks into the mountain of pork that you had prepared. Somewhere in Busan, he’s sure his mother is cringing at his terrible manners.

For a moment, you seem startled by his sudden proclamation, but you’re quick to shake it off. “Alright everyone! Please dig in,” you say, clapping your hands with a large grin on your face. Jimin is the first to dive into the food, popping a piece of kimbap into his mouth and moaning loudly in satisfaction.

“Y/N, I don’t know what type of crack you put into your food, but MAN this is delicious,” he says, already piling up his plate with anything he can get his hands on. Yoongi is slightly more reserved when he takes a prawn and chews it softly, nodding in agreement with Jimin’s statement.

“Thank you for this meal, Y/N. You must have worked really hard,” Namjoon says, reaching over for some food as well. Jungkook watches as he nearly bumps the plate of ssam off the edge of the table. “Oh, whoops.”

Hoseok laughs loudly, the sudden noise surprising everyone around him. He doesn’t look all that embarrassed, however. “I’ll have to apologize for Joon in advance. He’s a bit of a clumsy guy.” He smiles kindly at Y/N. “You’re gonna have to get used to that eventually, I suppose.”

Jungkook notices the soft blush rising up your neck. His grip on his chopsticks tightens as he takes a particularly rough bite out of his food. “I, um, suppose I will,” you laugh shyly, rubbing the back of your neck while keeping your gaze off Namjoon. You accidentally make eye contact with Jungkook instead, who didn’t have enough time to erase the annoyance out of his expression. You flinch slightly, before softening your voice in that tone you use whenever Jungkook felt a little stressed out. “Jungkook? Are you okay? Is the meat too tough or something?”

Seokjin snorts beside him, nearly choking as he was in the middle of taking a big swig of water. Jungkook hates that he knows that the bastard is enjoying this way too much. Jungkook’s frustration is easy for anyone to see, with only you being left unaware as to why he was so agitated. Your cluelessness only adds to his bubbling anger. “Yeah, Jungkook. Are you alright? Bet you wished there were less people at the table, huh?”

Jungkook is quick to stomp on his foot, causing the prick to yelp in pain. He’s too busy pinching Seokjin in the tit that he misses the way Namjoon’s face falls, dejectedly looking at his food with a deep furrow in his brow.

“Oh? Are you becoming self-aware? Maybe you should take a page out of your book and leave before I kick you out myself,” you huff, scowling at Seokjin. You must have misinterpreted his little side comment, though Jungkook isn’t sure if he should be thankful for that or not. You turn to Taehyung, who has been mysteriously quiet this entire time. “And you. I know I said you could bring a friend over, but I didn’t expect you to bring this soggy testicle!”

Taehyung just shrugs, his attention focused on his phone. “What?” He doesn’t look up, his fingers furiously occupied with something else. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. Won’t do it again.” When he finishes his text, Seokjin’s phone dings soon right after. Jungkook’s eyes narrow suspiciously at the two, but neither of them seems to care.

You’re beginning to look flustered, mouth opening and closing as you figure out a way to salvage this mess of a dinner. If Jungkook had been slightly less preoccupied with his own swirling thoughts, he might have thought to comfort you or say something to alleviate the tension. Instead, he has his head bowed in shame, the bitter taste in his mouth unwilling to leave until the boy to his right decides to leave first.

“Anyway,” Yoongi clears his throat, causing Jimin to jump beside him. Normally, Yoongi never spoke all that often when they got together, usually content with eating and listening to the younger ones joke around. He isn’t looking at Jungkook, but he knows that Yoongi must have read his mind. He waves his chopsticks around vaguely at Namjoon. “You. You like woodworking, right?”

Startled from being directly addressed, Namjoon’s posture straightens slightly at the mention of his favorite activity. “Y-yes. It’s a bit of a side hobby that I do when I’m not busy with school or work. I’m… not very good. Just a novice, really.” He laughs, nervously propping his glasses up his nose until they’re nearly up to his forehead.

“Oh, hush! Namjoon is fantastic! I got him to make little wooden figurines to decorate the cafe over the summer, isn’t that right?” Seokjin interjects, reaching over Jungkook to slap Namjoon on the back.

“That’s right! Namjoon, I’ve seen your photos on Instagram! You’re definitely good at what you do,” you say, eyes sparkling with amazement. Namjoon coughs shyly into his hand, but it doesn’t hide the blush painting his cheeks.

Jungkook feels his blood pressure boiling, but he grits his teeth instead. “Interesting stuff,” he murmurs sarcastically, soft enough that only you wouldn’t hear. He senses Namjoon sagging back into his seat, but he doesn’t even feel remotely guilty that he had heard him. Even without looking up, he knows that Yoongi is sending him a warning look in response.

“Namjoon, that’s really cool. I’m an interior design major, so I’d love to see what you might think about the wood pieces I’m thinking of purchasing for an upcoming exhibit,” Yoongi says, trying to salvage the situation. Jungkook glares at him, but the elder doesn’t back down. Instead, he quirks a brow up, as if challenging him to say something.

Jimin gasps, a few bits of rice falling out of his mouth and into the plate of ssamjang. “That’s right! Yoongi, didn’t you say you needed something interesting as a center piece for the dining table? Maybe Namjoon can help you with that!”

Namjoon flushes, waving his hands and shaking his head fervently. “Ah, no! I don’t think I can help you with that. I’m sure you can ask plenty of other professionals who are more capable than I am.”

“No, Namjoon. You should help them,” Hoseok quips. He’s got a pout on his face, causing his cheeks to bunch up cutely. Like a fucked up squirrel, Jungkook thinks petulantly, hating how childish he was being but unable to stop. He steals a look at you to see that you’re staring at Hoseok, too. Hoseok pumps his fist up, “Namjoon’s great! He’s just being humble, that’s all.”

“I’ll be sure to ask you for help then, Namjoon.” Yoongi smiles wide, his pink gums appearing for the first time that night. It’s the kind of smile that makes you feel good, like being praised without words. Emboldened by Yoongi’s kindness, Namjoon smiles back, his previously dejection slowly washing away.

Jungkook feels betrayed. He can’t stand sitting in this room anymore, not when all his friends, most especially you, were being so buddy-buddy with this new unwelcome addition to your party. He puts down his chopsticks onto his dish, standing up and making his way over to the kitchen sink.

“Kook? What’s wrong?” You stand up as well, walking towards him. When you reach out to touch his shoulder, he accidentally slaps your hand away on instinct, head fuzzy with too many thoughts. You gasp, cradling your hand to your chest even though he hadn’t hit you that hard. You were mostly shocked, not used to seeing Jungkook so… touchy, and for seemingly no apparent reason. If only you knew, he thinks to himself.

“I have to go. Stomach ache,” is all he says before he’s grabbing his coat from the rack and shoving on his boots. He grabs his car keys, unwilling to turn around to see the expressions on all your faces. “I’m heading to the pharmacy. See you.” He slams the door shut behind him, leaving you more confused and hurt than ever before.

“Well, this sucks, huh?” Seokjin nudges Taehyung with his foot. Taehyung, to his credit, jabs Seokjin straight in the balls.

“Back to the drawing board,” he sighs to himself, rubbing his temples as the elder groans obscenities back at him. This is going to be harder than he thought.

#yoonkooknetwork #bts social media au #bts scenarios #bts texts #bts fake texts #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts #jungkook scenarios #namjoon scenarios #jungkook fake texts #namjoon fake texts #jungkook fanfiction #namjoon fanfiction #jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #jeon jungkook #kim namjoon #bangtan

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katherinewilliams221b · 3 years

Text

For A Greater Good Fun Facts and Self Assesment (spoilers)

Long Post

What worked and what didn’t:

I think the overall structure worked pretty well. The most difficult part was, with the plot and subplot already created, scattering all those ideas throughout the text in such a way that at least made some sense. I regret not writing more about Mer Yankelevich, I feel like the crumbs I left on the way were not enough; in my attempt to make it subtle it lacked information about her. The key piece was of course her sister, and I should have introduced her sooner.

MC’s evolution. I feel like Kate’s learnt a lot with this experience (I’m not only referring to the Deathly Hallows or Grindelwald) When it started, she was very discreet and kept a low profile, not knowing what to do really, not taking more risks than necessary. And then she ended poisoned and splinching just to protect a document she thought was important. I hope her evolution is noticeable for the reader.

Worldbuilding. Grabbing HP concepts that were forgotten and full of potential, plus a dash of original ideas from me and blending them with muggle features was my absolute favourite part of the process.

On that note, I dont own these concepts: Durmstrang, Igor Karkarov, Nerida Vulchanova, umbrella flowers, fanged geraniums, billywigs, Appare Vestigium, glow-worms, trick wand, chamaleon ghouls,

If you’ve read the fic and thought: “everything happened so fast” or got a general odd feeling about the timeline it's because I made a series of monumental mistakes: setting a chapter limit, telling you about it and then tried to stick to it. At first the idea sounded nice: this is my first “big” story with complicated components. I should (and I did) do an outline of what I want to happen in each chapter and stick to it methodically so I don't forget what's happening or lose track of the plot. Well...it kind of backfired. So I wrote the first 3 chapters and at that point I thought “okay everything is going as planned, I’m going to put it out there”, bam, instantly cursed. After that it got ridiculously difficult to make the story that I wanted. Why? I needed chapter space that I convinced myself I couldn’t add. Dumb.

The major consequence of this was the lack of character backgrounds. It started out good, but as I kept writing and publishing I realised that I missed some great opportunities to make amazing ocs. That’s Corentin’s fault in a way: he wasn't going to be a major character, really, just a piece to help Kate a bit. But we all fell in love with him so what was I supposed to do? Also, Sheyi Mawut owns my heart and he got just a bit of spotlight. A shame.

I wish I had written more about them, but I think I wasn’t ready just yet to make it even more complicated.I just wanted to prove I could concoct a mystery plot and now that I know I can manage a fair amount of information I think I can take it a step further and deepen new ocs a little bit more.

I’m thinking about the datura series and I know why I got blocked and tired of writing it; it wasnt going anywhere because I wasnt prepared, and I didn’t do the months of outlines and planning that I did with this one. I’ll come back to the datura story one day, subjecting it to a sever rewrite. The ideas are there, I just need to be organised.

Although the chapter limit was problematic it was also a good exercise of managing space and deciding which things were unnecessary for the story. I dont think there’s any filler chapters, perhaps the last ones, but there is important information there too so... However this sentence from the blog wordsandstuff reassured me (and I think I did a good job at that?)

If you set out to write 10 parts and you write a fantastic story in 8, you haven’t failed and it’s not too rushed. Concise writing is an underrated talent. Focus on how effectively you engage the reader, not for how long.

I spent more than year writing this! When I started, I had a lot of ideas, I wrote the last two chapters then the first 3 and I really thought it was going to be that way with the rest of the story... okay... lesson learnt. #humbled

Other thoughts:

I received a couple of comments on ao3 that said that they were pleasantly surprised. Maybe I should change the tags because they are misleading? Clearly this wasnt what people were looking for lol.

One particular comment stood out to me and quoting it said: “You did not choose the easy way with a fiction with so few characters from the fandom.” And I’ve been thinking about this since I read it. It didn’t occur to me that there were few mystery fics (maybe I should write more things like that? Maybe throwing some power couple detective work 👀 ) In any case, I’m glad I contributed with something different to the fandom, and the fact that the Charlie bits are very scarce but people who read it still liked it is really flattering.

I wanted to make sure that all the characters had strengths and flaws, I didnt want to severus-snape them so maybe I overdid it with that bit of introspection kate does at the end...

Also, I did the kiss and fade thing twice to mention sex. I know some people dont like that but since it wasnt the point of the story and I havent done research on how to write sex scenes I didnt include them. I have that on my “to learn” list.

Conclusions:

Writing the whole thing was incredible. It's my first ‘big’ project and its not a great work (there are some things I wish I did better, thats what you get when you are an agatha christie wannabe) and not writing more character backgrounds will haunt me to this day, but I think it's at least good for a first series and I’m proud of it. I loved spending hours doing research and trying to piece together this puzzle. And of course I’m not an expert and I dont want to sound pretentious (like this is my first story) but if you are planning to write this type of genre I can be another source of tips and tricks for you.

If I read the story after a while and I dont cringe, I would call that a success.

FUN? FACTS!

Bakunawa really belongs to Filippines mythology

Snapdragons have different meanings, one of them being: “grace under pressure or inner strength in trying circumstances”

The entrance to Grindelwald’s room was going to be in the duelling classroom, strangely shaped as a triangle. I had this system where one of the round candle lamps descended and lined up with a line on the floor (serving as separation for duels) it created the Deathly Hallows symbol. I couldn’t make that work because it wouldn't make any sense for Nerida Vulchanova to shape a room like that. Here are some sketches:

Lucius Malfoy was going to appear as the Ministry employee that goes to Durmstrang, but after revising the events of the OoP I realised it was impossible.

Kent Jorgensen was going to be around Kate’s age and the charms teacher and he would have a small crush on her. After seeing some pics of Pen Medina, I rewrote the character completely.

The series was going to be 6 chapters long (I’m glad I decided not to) one for each month. The chapter names were ridiculous: January of Beginnings, February of reputation, March of Students, April of Discoveries, May I? and June of Endings. #tragic

The Dolohov family was going to be a part of the plot but I had to erase that part because it was unlocking another layer of complexity that I just couldnt handle.

I dont remember exactly the chapter but I got really confused with the names Rhode and Hodges and there’s one chapter where I accidentally mixed them (I corrected it I think), but for a while I could stop calling Rhode, Hodges, and vice versa lmao

Here are some sketches that helped me describe and imagine things

Thank you for accompany me in this journey, especially if you endured the process with me lmao. You’ve been here for over A YEAR! <3 Mindblowing

Also I’d love to know your opinions about the way you read the story, I mean, I know some people read it as I published, and some other readers found the story already finished, what are the differences? Should I stop the updating system and drop a story all at once? I know it is difficult to keep up with a complex story if there’s a lot of weekly or monthly gaps between the chapters, so I wanted to know.

Sending you a virtual hug 💜💜

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evermorehaikyuu · 4 years

Note

“🌴❄: It’s winter break! I invite you over because I wanted to be with you.” And “🍪: Hey, stop eating the frosting, that’s for the cookies!” With Bokuto

Not gonna lie, I am sprinting through all of the 300 follower specials to get to the 500 special and two other projects I want to work on. So if its trash and not as long as you wanted which it will be, I apologize in advance pffft Let’s get started!

The only sounds reverberating through the room were the scratches of pencils, the occasional sniffle and the squeaking of chairs when someone shifted. Finals were the one thing that could make or break a student. They were a prison and once it was over, the feeling of freedom would loom over several students. They would have a few weeks before returning to hell, but at least they’d have a break and thoughts away from tests.

Y/N L/N’s last final was the hardest. She kept looking at the clock and at her test. Tick...tock...tick...

Once she wrote the final answer (not that she was entirely sure she was right) , she turned in her test paper and left the classroom. The pressure on her chest lifted and she was grinning like a maniac when she saw Bokuto and Akaashi.

“Y/N!” Wrapping her into a giant hug, Bokuto started asking about her test, how she thought she did, etc.

“That last question was awful, wasn’t it, Akaashi?” She rubbed her forehead just thinking about it.

“It was okay. Glad I took that final first, I wouldn’t want to be in your position.” Akaashi had to go home immediately, so he left the two of them alone.

“So….you want to come over?” Bokuto asked casually, his heart jumping into his throat when she agreed. On the way to his house, they started reviewing answers until Bokuto groaned and said, “I know I failed already, don’t rub it in.” He wave

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at his pout. “Okay, I won’t ask anything more.” She looked around the house. The only souvenirs of late night studying were the pile of textbooks and notes on the table. A journal full of messy scribbling sat next to the textbook, a suspicious spot of drool in the middle of the notebook. Pencils were scattered all over the tabletop and eraser shavings were all over the table. She turned to Bokuto, raising an eyebrow, and asked, “All nighter?”

He shook his head, beaming at her. “I know you would have killed me if I tried to pull an all nighter. I got stuff for us to make cookies!”

Moving into the kitchen, it was the complete opposite of the table. Everything was clean and prepared, it would be a shame to make a mess to make cookies. But the promise of a sugary delight was motivation enough to start making cookies.

“Flour, milk, butter, go!” Y/N commanded with the air of a general. Bokuto gladly obliged to her orders and soon enough, all of the ingredients were set in front of them. “Good job, soldier, we shall begin the festivities.”

They kept working at it, Bokuto mixing and Y/N making frosting. She said, “Switch with me, I don’t think the frosting’s ready yet, I think you’ll be better at mixing it.” Homemade frosting could go two ways: it could be the best thing ever or it could be trash. With any hope, it wouldn’t be the latter.

Bokuto stirred it until it looked like actual frosting. He started tasting it and before long, one quarter of the bowl was empty. Bokuto had frosting at the corner of his lips and that gave him away. Y/N turned to look at him and saw the culprit who had been eating the frosting. “Hey, stop eating all of the frosting, that’s for the cookies!” She whacked his hand with a spoon.

“But it’s so good! You’re like Gordon Ramsay!” He whined.

“DON’T EAT ALL OF THE FROSTING, YOU FUCKING DONKEY!” Y/N said with a mock British accent and laughing. “No, I’m serious, don’t eat all of the frosting!”

“Fine…” He didn’t eat the frosting, but he did stare at her when the cookies were made and edible. Softly smiling at her features, he bit into his own cookie. It was definitely the best thing he had ever had, but just seeing the girl across from him smile at her own creation was enough for him.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #300 follower special #IM SPRINTING THROUGH ALL OF THEM

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rhabakoli · 4 years

Text

Veneration

smut, what else would it be, coming from me?

@dreamwritesimagines story Untouchable, set between chapters 10 and 11.

You were on the floor, in front of the fire, like the most cliché romantic scene ever. But you didn’t mind. Not when such a gorgeous man was giving you all his attention and didn’t even think to demand yours; who was willing to go at your pace.

“Darling, doll-“, He exhaled against your lips, hovering just out of reach. “You are the very personification of my dreams.”

His voice was low, rough; you wanted to bathe in it. It furthered the flame in your belly, thawing the ice-cold spot inside you. His fingertips dug into your hip, as if he was trying to pull you closer and closer evermore, forced you to your knees. His fingertips danced down your body, to grip the back of your thighs and spread them, bring them forward. It brought you right into his lap, hovering above him. His eyes were observing your face, your every reaction, like a starving man in front of an oasis. Your fingers found his hairs, both hands ruffling it and then came to rest at his shoulders. “What did I do, to deserve you?” “Something terrible, I’m sure.” His sly smile brought out Goosebumps, and you loved it. His hands came up, ever so slow, and cupped your butt, squeezing each cheek and humming low in his throat. “No, I must have saved an angel, to be here with you.” Your stomach was somersaulting, almost came up your throat, together with your heart. “You’re a nerd.” He looked up, his eyes hooded and bit his lip. “I am. But I am your nerd.” Another really clichéd thing to say, but oh lord. You took a shaky breath, not used to this kind of emotional assault. Bucky didn’t expect you to say something, he just leaned forward, guided your hips forward and pressed his lips to your stomach. “Beautiful.” He left a trail of kisses, first down to the waistband of your panties, then up to the lace of your bra. Your hands were still holding onto his shoulders, and your nails kept catching his skin whenever he came close to where you really wanted him. His breath was hot on your skin, his stubble tickled and scratched where it rubbed against your skin. His hands wandered as well, down your legs, up again, fingers dipping under the fabric, teasing you. Your breath was already coming harsh, loud in your ears. You couldn’t remember the last time you were worked up this fast. Or, at all, to be honest. “Doll, you smell divine.” “It- it’s the bath oils.” He continued to press kisses against your skin, his fingers now worming their way between skin and lace, right where your bum met thigh. His fingertips found what he was looking for, and your knees gave out. Bucky caught you with an arm around your mid to hold you up, low chuckle vibrating through his torso. “Are you falling for me, darling?” You supressed a moan, as his fingers continued dipping and searching, delving deeper. “You’re so wet, darling. All that for me?” Your fingers became claws, nails breaking skin when he pushed in. He hissed at the sting spreading from his shoulders, bit the skin of your stomach and then rested his chin there, so he could look up at you. His eyes were sharp, you could feel his gaze upon you; how he took in every little change in your features, every gasp or moan, every. Little. Thing. He drank it up, consumed by your beauty, by the light that shone through you even though you refused to think so. He wanted to erase any doubts you had, wanted to show you how worthy you were, how you could have anything you ever wanted. But for now. He just wanted to make you scream his name. Make you forget every other man who ever had you, make you see him, only him. His face when you fell asleep, his name on your lips when you came, his skin under your fingers and his smell in your nose. He wanted to overwhelm your senses, as you did with his. He wasn’t aware that his thoughts were bubbling out, falling from his lips like pleas. You were shivering in his arms, his fingers still in you. Your juices were dripping down his hand, and you were. so. close. His name left your lips, breathy, moany, begging. For what exactly you didn’t know, but more. Moremoremore. he littered your torso with kisses, bites, licks; his fingers worked inside you, the sounds filling the room, mingled with your breathing, the moans and the filthy words still spilling from Bucky’s lips. “I’ll worship you like the goddess you are, doll. I’ll make sure to be the only man you ever want.” Your muscles fluttered, and he displayed such a filthy, smug smile at that. “Yes, that’s it, love. Come for me.” You did. It wasn’t as earth-shattering as you anticipated it would be, from the onslaught of emotions; it was softer, longer. Drawn out, made your whole body go limp and Bucky had to carry your weight once more. “That’s it, darling. Let go.” He pulled his fingers from you, licked them clean and wrapped his other arm around you as well. You’d sank down onto his lap, thighs bracketing his hips, head tucked against his neck. He held you for a moment, murmured sweet words at you, let his hands stroke up and down your body. He let you calm down for a couple minutes, let you breathe. Then, when you shifted in his lap to press a kiss to his skin, he stopped his strokes and gripped your sides. “Are you alright?” “Yes.” “Good.” And with an agility you hadn’t suspected he possessed – which was stupid, as he was a freaking soldier – he had you on your back, his hips settled between your legs. “Because you will need to keep up with me for a little while longer, if that is alright with you, darling.” Never had anyone asked that. Never. Your breath hitched, you bit your lip. “Nothing else I’d rather do.” “Good.”, he rasped, bent down to kiss you, deeply, passionately. You raked your nails down his body, applying just enough pressure to make him feel it, and managed to get your hand inside his pants. You could feel your clit throb at the sound he made, at the way he dropped his head to watch you. Watch you as you jerked him of, expertly twisted your hand on the upstroke, flicked your thumb over his head. “Fuck, doll. Darling, don’t-“ You tightened your grip, kissed wherever you could reach. You needed to hear him moan, you needed to get more reactions from him. You needed him to become as fucked out and desperate as you were right now. But he wouldn’t let you. His hand wrapped around your wrist, stopped you. “I’ll blow my load right there in a second, if you don’t stop.” He observed your beautifully flushed face, smirked. “And we don’t want the fun to be over so soon, no?” He took your hands, held them above your hand – loosely, you could pull them away any time – and pressed kisses to your neck, your shoulder, while his fingers found your slit again. “I want to make you aware of what you do to me, I want you to tell me what you want, so I can give it to you. Let me do that. “ He looked at you, when he said those last words. It sent shivers down your back, once more. “Make me forget everything.”

#Untouchable #a dreamwritesimagines production #smut #bucky x birdie

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copias-thighs · 4 years

Text

Ignore me, I’m just complaining again as always. For the past month and a half I’ve been pressured into painting a wall for my sister in law and I mentioned before I don’t want to do this at all. Well anything artistic in general for her since she and her younger brother can be rude about it all some times. When she first found out I was artistic, she asked me to do a jungle mural on her wall for her daughter (who was 5 months about at the time) in her house she lived in during that time. Sure, no biggie. I didn’t mind. I was being paid for it, it would be done in time for Christmas, and was being given everything I needed for it, best of all I had no specific date to have it done by. She told me to do what I want, as long as I had 4 monkeys and a tree from the photos she sent me. That being said, I did what she asked and proceeded to draw on the wall she wanted on. Mind you, it’s the first time I’ve EVER painted a whole piece on a wall. I wanted it to be perfect and wanted to take make sure I drew it all correctly. She has a younger brother who was about 13 at the time and he is very, extremely vulgar and rude. He won’t care who you are, he’ll verbally harass you and feel no guilt. Even if you haven’t done anything wrong to him or anyone else. When I started drawing, he yelled, “So this masterpiece of yours is going to be a year long ordeal? Great.” Rolled his eyes and left. I knew what was going to happen, so I started showing up at her house with my noise cancelling headphones to tune him out while I finally started painting. A month passed as I was close to finishing the wall. I was tired, sore, I had a headache, and I had a lot of stress on me because I had so many personal issues eating away at me during that time. I just wanted to finish. My playlist started to buffer a little as I was finishing up painting what needed to be green. Grass, leaves, flower stems, that kind of stuff. I heard my sister in law go “Shhh! Cut it out! She’ll hear you!” Confused, I paused my music and tuned in out of curiosity. So much for noise cancelling, am I right? Her brother begins to get louder screaming, “I don’t fucking care. I don’t see why you’re paying that girl to fuck up your wall! She flat out ruined it! Hell- if you wanted to ruin your wall, I could’ve spread my ass cheeks open and shit all over your walls! You can pay me for it too!” I wanted to hide in a hole and cry. Have I really messed her wall? Was my first time painting something this huge a major fail? I felt horrible. I gathered up what was mine and ran out of there. My fiancé had to be the one to finish it. I got paid for it though, but for what? I didn’t want the money anymore, I wanted an apology that I never received to this day.

A couple of months later, her daughter’s first birthday began to approach. She was born in the summer and my sister in law had a set theme for it. A water theme to be more clear. She had a fancy camera and decided to have a special feature at the party. A backdrop with props. Which seemed pretty cool. She asked me for ideas and I told her some. Making fish using their handprints and glueing a fishnet on the backdrop, things like that. Well she replies with, “Oh cool, I didn’t know you knew how to make those! You’re doing the backdrop for me, right?” Well she never asked me, she just threw it at me.. so I said sure Ig... she told me that she needed the fish and all the backdrop stuff done before the 2nd of June. It was early May so I had plenty of time. Nope. Out of nowhere she calls saying that she needed them within the next few days, and I was nowhere NEAR done. She still demanded it and I scrambled to get it all done. I had to put the wall up on my own and it was barely the middle of May at that point, with the party still set for the 2nd of June. Didnt get paid for it and I literally had no money to buy what I needed since I didn’t have a job. I had to scrimp up about $5 for what you see that she couldn’t spare. At least she kept the decorations. She claimed her 1 year old daughter was upset that there was only ONE dolphin, even though that’s my sister in law’s favourite animal, and was she and her little brother were upset there wasn’t much done for the backdrop.

A year later, summer was rolling back in again and her daughter was turning two. Cute, happy, yay, happy feels. I was at my sister in law’s for a little get together, and she comes up to me, with me feeling dread as I knew what was going to happen. “Ohhh, I cant wait until she turns two! I have such a cute idea! I’m going to have a Mickey Mouse Club House theme with a backdrop saying “I’m TWOdles! Isn’t that cute?!” I uncomfortably smiled and nodded giving a weak “yeah” as a silent anxiety attack started kicking in. She stood there for a good few minutes as if she was waiting for me to ask to help her, which I obviously didn’t, getting flashbacks from how she demanded things to be done last second last time. So she huffed and said, “I need life size cut outs of Minnie, Mickey, Goofy, and Toodles. Do you think you can do that?” I really didn’t know how to, I honestly didn’t. I told her just that, but she didn’t let it go. She ended up telling me to make her just their heads and the words “I’m TWOdles” and how she needed them by June. This time I had a whole month. I wasn’t as anxious, I had time to figure out how to get it done. Well two weeks later she calls demanding it to be done before the day after. I panicked, seeing that I was having trouble colouring the heads nicely without being judged on how you you can see marker lines and such. And when I showed her what I had done, she was upset because it wasn’t enough to cover up the wall. She wanted more things to fill it up. So I hesitantly said large balloon flowers. She can make those on her own, while I finished the heads. NOPE! I had to be the one to do that too. I’ve never worked with balloons, I’m afraid of the sounds they make, I can’t stand them unless they’re the foil ones. I have a huge ass phobia about them and nearly cried as I made the balloon flowers. I flinched, winced, and the threw the balloons with each nasty rubber rubbing sound it made. My fiancé had to literally fucking hold me each freak out I had with those damn things. Well I had to get it all done because it’s my fault for suggesting balloon flowers to begin with. which I did. The day of the party, her family was wowed by it. Her little brother however, was angry I was getting compliments. So he began shouting that he did it all, and he worked really hard on it all. My sister in law was mad too that I didn’t get her daughter a present. Ig the wall wasn’t a good gift.

Now here I am currently, stressing over a wall plus more. My sister in law moved to a new home recently, and needed help painting walls. I painted all 3 rooms. I thought that was the end of that. WELL BUCKLE UP because she said some, “Oooo, guess what! My daughter has been asking for you to paint her walls! She really wants monkeys, lions, and elephants on her wall!” At this point I had enough. I asked, “SHE wants the animals? Or YOU want them?” She went quiet and said, “no, she’s been asking for you!” Pretty damn specific for a 3 year old to want, considering she can barely say anything. She can’t even say her own name. Here I am, sketching on the wall, with my sister in law coming right up to me telling me that she wants fish to be painted on the walls of the toy room after I’m done with the jungle crap. I got really annoyed and said she can easily use the fish stuff from her 1st birthday. She ignored that. After I drew all the crap on the wall in pencil, she stops me in the hall and adds, “Hey! So my hallway looks so bland! Any ideas on how to make it prettier? Like a tree with squares for photos?” I told her she can buy a tree decal on Amazon for cheap, but she cuts me right off screaming “Checked already, they’re $200.” I practically live on Amazon and told her no, they aren’t that expensive. Only to be cut off by her screeching “They’re $200, I don’t have $200! Give me ideas!”

Wow, ok.

So I said to do this: Put a large photo of her and her kids with neatly organised smaller photos of family moments around it. Like this:

Nope, she told me that it was “too messy and too thrown together.” Agitated, I told her it’s getting late and that I had to leave. She then started following me around when I gathered all my pencils and erasers, asking when I was coming back over to paint and if I could bring my own paint. I kept calm and said I didn’t have much money to spend to buy paint (I quit my job around November the year before) and that I’ll come over the next time she’s off work. Which turned out to be Mother’s Day. I told her I’m not coming in because I wanted to spend time with my own mom and she tried telling me all these “gifts” her 3 year old daughter was eyeing for her. Joke or not, I got annoyed because I stated multiple times that I have no job and little money to be spending on paint. I have to take care of my mom and siblings back home, buying food and house supplies with what I have. Well my dumbass absentmindedly said “This- This wall is your Mother’s Day present.” She gave me a face and said “I didn’t ask for this! This isn’t for me, my daughter wanted this!” With and eye twitch, I said that this is something SHE asked for and how HER DAUGHTER can barely speak. She can’t even say a full sentence, her name, my name, and if it’s hER DAUGHTER wanting this, what was requested for the wall was oddly specific for her to want. I told her bye and tried to leave as quick as I could to avoid any new “favours” she might have for me. As I start heading to the door, she yells after me, “come up with more ideas for the hallway for me! We’ll talk later!”

Another fun bit is that now she has a son. And for his first birthday photo shoot, she’s going to dress him up as a dinosaur, breaking out of an egg. Problem is, she doesn’t have a huge egg. She comes up to me and says, “So I need I giant egg, you can figure out how to do that, right?” I couldn’t even say no because her family was watching me, waiting for me to say “yes” even though I wanted to say no because I don’t know how to. Hell, I still don’t! I’m beyond scared to make it! When she decided for me that I was going to make her a giant dinosaur egg regardless, mother fucker adds in “Oh! I also need a life size Forky, Mr. And Mrs. Potato Head, Slinky, etc for my daughter’s birthday!” I WANT TO FUCKING CRY SHE NEEDS THE TOY STORY CRAP NEXT MONTH AND I DONT HAVE ANYTHING THAT BIG TO DRAW ON FOR IT AND I KNOW HER ASS IS GOING TO BITCH FOR IT THIS MONTH AND I KNOW IM NOT GETTING PAID FOR ANY OF THIS FUCKING SHIT FUCK ME

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timelordthirteen · 5 years

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Killing Time 16/?

Detective Weaver/Belle French, Explicit

Summary: A Woven Beauty Law & Order-ish AU. Written for Writer’s Month 2019.

Chapter Summary: Weaver and Belle attempt to get a start on the case, but feel like they're getting nowhere fast in a lot of ways.

Notes: This was supposed to be posted on Friday the 30th, but alas that didn't happen. Work sucked and I seem to have gotten my daughter's cold. Palmi's is a Korean BBQ place in Seattle (and other areas) in case anyone was wondering. This is where my random food cravings show up in fic. For the Writer's Month prompt #30: pining.

Warnings: Please see AO3 for complete warnings and tags.The only updated tags are for the smut.

[AO3] Previous: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15]

It was two in the afternoon when Belle and Weaver left the station.

They had collected the current case file, such as it was, and decided to head over to Belle’s office. Frustration was best handled by doing what they could to solve the case, or at least get it started. So far the whiteboard consisted of a picture of Eloise and a timeline that had more question marks than anything else. As far as anyone could tell, Eloise Gardner had managed to fly under the radar for her entire existence.

Belle glanced over at Weaver where he was sitting on the sofa, flipping through the brief preliminary report from the medical examiner. He was slouched down with the folder open and sitting on his legs, and she bit her lip. Just a short time ago, they’d fucked on that couch, right where he was sitting. She bit her lip and breathed slowly, trying not to think about how good it felt to have him inside her, and how it would have happened again if Rogers hadn’t called them when he did.

“What?”

She blinked and saw Weaver looking at her, one eyebrow raised. “Nothing,” she said, shrugging. “Just...we basically have nothing.”

“Less than.” He sighed and sat forward, closing the folder and dropping it on the coffee table. “This prelim report is everything we already know; she’s been dead at least six months or probably more, no obvious signs of trauma, gun shot or stab wounds.”

“And we don’t have any idea who Eloise even is.” He ran a hand over his face, rubbing at his chin which had gotten scruffy with stubble from the last two days. “How does someone have no paper trail in this day and age?”

Belle shook her head, clicking the cap of the dry erase marker she was holding on and off. “Maybe she’s not from here. Maybe we need to expand our search. Oregon, California, Idaho? Check Social Security and IRS records, whatever we have to.”

“She might not even be from the states,” he added absently. “Canada?”

“True,” Belle said, frowning at the board. They’d been making assumptions, and it was possible that had painted them into a corner. “I could call Anna. She still works for that firm in Vancouver, and she might be able to search a few databases for us. Rogers could call his friend in the RCMP.”

He let out another heavy sigh. “Yeah.”

She pushed the cap back on the marker and set it in the tray under the board before crossing the room. “You okay?”

Weaver looked up as Belle dropped down on the sofa beside him. He nodded and gave her a small smile. “Yeah, just realized that I didn’t know what day it was for a second there.”

She let out a soft laugh. “Saturday, right?”

He nodded again, his lips curving slightly. “Be honest, you had to look at your phone to be sure.”

“Lately, yeah,” she admitted, running her hand through her hair. “S’all bleeding together.”

“Are you okay?”

She turned her head and looked at him. “Yeah, why?” He shrugged, his eyes meeting hers, and she swallowed. “I’m better now that we have something to figure out.”

“Something to focus on that’s not...”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Belle nodded, her lips pressed together in a tight smile. “I’m sorry, by the way.”

Weaver frowned. “For what?”

“For all the stuff that’s happened.” She sighed and picked at a fingernail with her thumb. “Between us.”

“Hey,” he said, softly, reaching over to take her hand. “Don’t -”

She shook her head again. “No. No, Ian, I meant it. I shouldn’t have -” She squeezed his hand and let it rest on her knee, but her eyes were fixed on the file folder on the table, and on the edge of the case label that was just a little bit crooked. “I didn’t mean for things to get so messy. Or to push you away - after. You were right that - that I keep doing that, that I have done that.”

“Belle...”

She sniffed and wiped her free hand over her cheek, surprised when it came away wet, and then rubbed it on her jeans. “I, um, I thought - I thought I was protecting myself.”

“You were,” he insisted. “You -”

“No.” She gave him a quick glance, her chest tightening when she saw the pain and concern in his features. “No, I was - I was hurting you. On purpose, maybe, I don’t know, but it was wrong. I was wrong to take advantage of you.”

“Hey.” He pulled his hand away from hers and raised his arm to put it around her shoulders. “It’s okay. You weren’t taking advantage of anyone.”

“I’m sorry,” she managed, her tears falling faster. “I was - I was going to text you that night. Thursday, I mean.”

That was the night Jack attacked her.

Weaver swallowed hard, and then blew out a breath. “Palmi’s?” She lifted her head and blinked at him. “Split a beef combo?”

“With kimchi stew?” Her eyebrows lifted and she started to smile. Her skin felt tight where tears had dried on her skin, and she rubbed at her eye. “You can have all the short ribs.”

His eyes narrowed for a second. “Deal.”

She giggled and sat up, stretching her arms. “I’m going to need to do some wash, or grab more clothes.”

Weaver pushed to his feet. “We can call in our order, swing by your place, and then pick it up before we head home?”

Belle bit her lip and nodded. He’d called his apartment home, which made sense for him. The funny thing was that was the first place that popped into her head at the mention of that word, home. It was an exposed brick wall and dark kitchen cabinets, a hundred year old wood floor and a zig zag of pipes on the ceiling.

She wasn’t sure that had anything to do with what had happened on Thursday.

After dinner, they settled on the sofa.

Belle sighed as she felt her body sink into the soft leather, and pulled up the throw blanket that lay at one end. They kept the conversation light after they left her office, both of them needing to disengage from the case and the events of the last few days.

“So, Tiana’s engaged?” Weaver said as he came around the end of the sofa with a beer bottle in his hand.

She let out a short laugh. “Yeah, to Drew.”

His eyes widened and he leaned forward to set the bottle down on the coffee table. “Drew the chef? I thought she dumped him ages ago?”

“The wannabe chef,” she corrected with a smirk. “I don’t know. They were off and on for the longest time, and then they were off-off.” She rolled her eyes and reached over, stealing a sip from his beer.

“Oi!” He snatched the bottle from her with a half-hearted glare. “Thief.”

She smiled at him. “Arrest me.”

The look he gave her was heated, and she felt a flush wash over her body. “Anyway,” she continued, fiddling with the fringe on the blanket as he turned on the TV. “They met at a restaurant opening a few months back, and now...”

Weaver shook his head. “She can do so much better.”

“She said that about you, you know.” Belle glanced sideways at him, her lips twitching.

“Yeah, well,” he replied, flipping through two more channels before pausing on a recap of the days football matches. “She was right.”

Belle’s foot nudged at his thigh, and he looked down at it before flicking his gaze up to meet her eyes. “Shut up,” she admonished, poking him with her toes a second time.

He tsked and shook his head slowly. “Theft and now assaulting a police officer. Racking up quite a rap sheet there, Ms. French.”

She giggled and shifted the way she was sitting, moving her feet to the other side so she could sit closer to him. He flipped a few more channels before stopping on a movie they’d both seen more times than they could count. It was already twenty minutes in, but it was safe, and she thought they both probably needed safe right now. The news was, well, the news. They lived with most of the nightly local headlines, and the national and global stuff had become too depressing.

Towards the end of the movie, Belle found her body leaning, drifting and heavy with fatigue, until her head was resting on Weaver’s shoulder. He braced for a second, and then relaxed, bringing his arm up around her to pull her against his side.

The more she kept saying she wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t keep taking advantage of him, the more she seemed to keep doing it.

“Is this okay?” she asked, her eyes fixed on the television.

“Yeah.”

His reply was soft, and then she felt the light pressure of his lips on the top of her head. She exhaled, resisting the urge to curl against him and watched as the movie came to its end, the camera pulling back on a view of the city as the credits began to scroll up the screen.

“I can’t keep staying here.”

Weaver shifted slightly. “Why not?”

She sighed and smiled sadly. “You know why...”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Where will you go then? Back to your apartment?”

She swallowed and sniffed. “I don’t think I can. I know Leroy will do a good job, but...”

“No one would blame you.” His arm tightened around her, squeezing her against him.

She pushed herself up, and his hand slipped down her shoulder. “My lease is up at the end of the year. I was thinking about looking for another place anyway.”

“You can stay here as long as you like,” he said, pulling back and twisting to sit sideways with his arm on the back of the sofa. “I can fix up the other room again, and sleep in there.”

Belle looked down at the blanket for a moment. The room would need a bit of work, and some furniture. The guest bed had been taken out as a start to the process of turning the room into a nursery. She wondered if he’d ever done anything with the paint they bought, a light, springy green called Sweet Honeydew. It would have worked for a boy or girl, she thought.

“Yeah.” She pulled the blanket off her lap before she stood up. “I’m, uh, I’m gonna go shower.”

“Okay...” came Weaver’s voice as she crossed the room. It sounded like he wanted to say something else, but she closed the bathroom door behind her before he could.

She turned on the water, pushing the dial halfway over to hot until steam started to fill the space, fogging up the glass. The heat felt good, almost blissful, and she let her head drop as the water pelted her neck and shoulders. A few tears fell, as they always did, and she wiped at her eyes before turning her face into the water. It was easier to let things out when she was shut away from the world. And from Ian.

He had been wonderful the past couple of days, but she still felt the pressure of expectations, of their history just as she had for all the weeks before. She couldn’t keep staying here, not much longer, not with Ian being so accommodating and...helpful. Her only option was nowhere, it seemed. She yawned as she turned to wash the shampoo out of her hair, working out the suds with her hands. It was going to be another early night for her, though she wondered if she’d be able to sleep all that well without Ian. At some point she would need to, anyway.

Belle finished up in the shower and slipped out in a towel, flashing Weaver an awkward smile as she hurried into the bedroom to retrieve something to wear to bed. After she changed, she came out of the room, squeezing her hair with the towel. Weaver was standing in the kitchen, and the television was turned back to the football recap. She glanced from the screen to him, and gave him a small smile when he shrugged.

“Tea?” he asked as he poured hot water into a mug.

“So late?” She lowered the towel.

He lowered the teabag, his mouth curved in a half smile. “It started raining and I just felt like something warm.”

She shook her head, her damp hair swinging and flicking little drops of water over the floor. “Thanks, but I think I’m just gonna go to bed.”

He picked up the mug and came around the island, cupping the warm ceramic in his palm. “You going to be okay?”

She wiped a drip of water off her forehead and shrugged. “At some point I’m going to have to be, right?”

She took the towel into the bathroom, dropping it in the hamper, and when she came out, Weaver was back on the sofa, his socked feet propped on the coffee table, sipping his tea. She bit her lip at the cozy picture he made, wanting so badly to just plop down beside him again until they both fell asleep. Instead, she pushed her hair back and moved to the bedroom door.

“Night.”

He looked up from his mug and gave her a soft, crooked smile. “Goodnight, Belle.”

An hour later, Weaver gave up and turned off the television.

He knew Belle was holding back, putting on a brave face so he wouldn’t worry about her so much. At least they had something to work on now, something to distract them from everything else that had happened. He wasn’t sure that was a good thing yet. They’d proven they could work well together, for the most part, but in the long run what he wanted and what Belle wanted could still be two different things.

Sighing, he pushed up off the sofa and took the remains of his tea, now long cold, into the kitchen before heading to the bathroom to shower. After, he put on clean underwear and a shirt, and spread the throw blanket out over the cushions. He straightened and dropped a pillow down at one end, his gaze drifting to the bedroom door. It wasn’t completely shut, just close enough to block out the light from the living room.

He eased the door open and looked inside. Belle was on her side, facing the nightstand. She looked to be sleeping soundly, but just in case he left the door open a little further. If she had another nightmare, he’d be able to hear her easier. He took a step, and she called out to him in a quiet voice.

“You can stay,” she said, rolling over. “If - if you want.”

His smile was flat. “I don’t think it’s up to me.”

“Yeah.” She tucked her hands under her chin, holding the sheet and blanket. “Sorry.”

“Belle...” He sighed, watching as she rubbed at her face with her covered hands, then shook his head as he turned to leave. “Night.”

“Please?”

He stopped with his hand on the doorknob, waiting until she said his name, and then eased the door closed all the way. He went around to his side of the bed and climbed in, settling back against the pillow. A moment later, Belle inched closer, reaching for him and laying her arm over his chest.

“This okay?”

He breathed out and closed his eyes. It was always okay, no matter how much it hurt, or how confused everything got. “Yeah.”

Their breathing evened out, her chest pushing against his side at the same time he inhaled. The rain pattered lightly against the window, a soothing white noise as sleep overcame them.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #woven beauty #woven beauty fic #my woven beauty fic #killing time #fic

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bluekayanite · 4 years

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(SU:F Theory - Snow Day) Has Steven REALLY Changed That Much?

...Or is he just still dealing with an old issue?

(I intended to post this last week, but apparently forgot to actually, you know, post it. >_< I’ve got another one upcoming, but here’s this one for now.)

EDIT: Some edits have been made. Not gonna stress myself over the details this time.

My Feelings on the Ep

Okay, I dunno about you, but I actually found the story of Snow Day pretty upsetting. The whole thing was about Steven running from his childhood favorites, and he pretty much stated that it was because he didn't want to be seen as a kid.

Sure, I can get behind not liking when people assume you haven't changed, especially when the changes in question have to do with you learning and growing (been there... -.-), but it didn't feel like that was the real issue. I mean, there's growing up and changing, and then there's more-or-less trying to hide, or to erase the past. IMO, this ep showed Steven trying to avoid "kids stuff" to an extreme. He literally jumped over the edge!

And not just the kids stuff, but it feels to me like he's been avoiding silly stuff in general, like that goofy charm that seemed like an essential character trait throughout the first series.

Even the idea that he could've left behind so much of the goofiness I love was pretty distressing - it really feels like he's trying to run away from a part of himself, essentially killing a part of himself (or at least a version thereof). But that's not the whole of the issue for me.

To me, it really kind of felt like Steven believed the Gems were wrong to still want to appreciate the old stuff with him - not because of “seeing him as a child, still,” but... like they couldn't still appreciate the way he used to be, even in a nostalgic sense. Like he believes that they shouldn't be allowed to enjoy the silly stuff, either. Or the little things in general.

(If you're not taking the time to pet something cute, I'd say it's pretty serious.)

Also: come on!! The Cheeseburger Backpack and Together Breakfast are two of the most iconic things of the series-es! And personally, like I kind of said, I’d say Steven's goofiness is right up there with them! Even the vegetarianism! Remember how big Steven was on hot dogs?

"I think there isn't such a thing as a bad [hot] dog, though. Only bad chefs!" - Steven, Wacky Sacks Unboxing minisode

It was even in the first opening of SU!

I don't mind that SU:F is more mature than SU, but it feels like it's missing a lot of the heart that made SU so easy to love. I’m even noticing that there's been a shortage a star-iris-endings. I’m pretty sure the last iris was used in Guidance... for a fake ending.

Not that I think the star-iris should be forced, but it seems like it's not being used, even when Crewniverse has a perfectly good chance to do so. The fact that they've used it at all suggests that they're not trying to avoid using it - more like they've fallen out of the habit, or something. And I’m really starting to feel the absence of the little bit of lighthearted warmth that it typically brings. It just kinda quietly punctuates just how serious the show has been.

...It's pretty depressing, really.

But yeah, in general, I'm not a big fan of the idea that you have to let go of kid things as soon as you grow up. Doctors believe that play is just as important for adults as it is for children. Heck, that article even mentions reading aloud to someone (and I'd say, by extension, being read to) as a form of play... one of the forms that Steven specifically avoids.

And if you ask me, The No Home Boys sounds like its pretty deep - not just a basic, “silly” kids’ story.

"My favorite story is this classic one where the No Home Boys are chased[...] by a mysterious pursuer, which turns out to be the very fear resting within themselves." - Steven, On The Run

At the very least, it's what led to him having an adventure that led to him learning something important, and to bringing to light - and resolving - some previously-unspoken tension between Pearl and Amethyst.

So at the very least, I wouldn't cast aside childish things so quickly, if only for all the good that they have already brought.

There's also the fact that adult play has been accepted as a pretty important thing in our current society - it's basically our culture now. As said on the YT Channel Lockstin & Gnoggin (in response to COPPA), "This isn't the 1970s anymore[...] Adults are no longer afraid to be interested in things." I mean, heck, I think odds are pretty good that if you’re reading this, you're probably an adult who enjoys “kids stuff.” I know I technically fit in that category - I’m getting old enough that I don't like to think about it. ^_^;

Personally, I believe that the “adults can still like ‘kids’ stuff” thing could really use more representation in mainstream media, ESPECIALLY after the whole COPPA thing. Personally, I’ve always believed that this would be done through Steven Universe.

And personally... I still think odds are good that it will.

Why I Think There's Still Hope for the Subject

The “adults enjoying ‘childish’ stuff” thing isn't just a thing with Millennials and the Internet in general: it's a pretty strong part of the culture of the Crewniverse, what with them actually enjoying Together Breakfast for the release of the ep by the same name. Not to mention donuts topped with Pop Rocks fire salt (exact quote - for Joking Victim), a big bowl of macaroni-and-nothing (for Warp Tour), and even a Rice Krispie temple that promptly got pummeled by a giant hand (technically for Bismuth, but also referencing Jailbreak). And those are just a few examples.

And in general, I've noticed that SU is very Millennial show, featuring values like that the reason for work should be to enjoy life, rather than to make money (Drop Beat Dad), and I've already said that being able to enjoy "kids stuff" as an adult is a pretty Millennial thing.

So to me, it seems like it's probably inevitable that Steven's going to get over the "trying too hard to adult" thing. Heck, if anything, I'd say that Snow Day is just another part of the long-running-buildup.

Steven has a history of trying to cut everything “childish” out of his life, and/or being embarrassed when it's brought up.

This felt like an extension of that history - to me, it feels like this issue leveled up, like he's trying harder than ever before to avoid being associated with "kids stuff." His reaction to Garnet presenting the Cheeseburger Backpack certainly looks like one of embarrassment, and one of not even appreciating the gesture, regardless.

And if you look, this whole thing started when the Gems implied that birthday parties were a "kids thing."

(My apologies for VUDU’s captions - they got better, I promise.)

Since then, he’s been stuck on the idea that he would have to leave things behind as he got older.

Before that, he was trying to convince the Gems of just the opposite.

Little did Steven know that they actually came around, while he was away...

But now? Now that they've obviously come around, he's still having trouble getting over what was once said.

He's even overtly objecting to being called "cute," or like a kid!

I think this is a pretty good example of how one little thing can result in a problem that a person struggles with for a long time afterward; how one idea can result in a person pressuring themselves to try and be something or not, even if the people who gave the idea have changed their minds. I think it's a pretty good example of the kind of baggage - the kind of problems - we carry around with us.

And you know what the official description of SU:F says?

"[A]s [Steven] runs out of other people's problems to solve, he'll finally have to face his own."

I very much believe that this is one of them. =3

Before I saw the movie, I had been spoiled by the “catchup” vid for the last season clearly being narrated by an older-voiced Steven. (So sorry, Hilary, that you want through so much trouble, but the neck wasn't much of a secret to me. XD; ) And spoilers aside, it had been pretty well hinted that he was going to grow up, via both of the “Birthday” episodes.

(Personally, I’m kind of disappointed that we missed the magic growth spurt - I always thought it would've been hilarious. X3)

I’d often thought that Steven was going to grow up when he realized that he didn't have to leave “childish” stuff behind - that he can be grown up without having to "stop being a kid," or worrying about how people would see him if he didn't. I kind of figured it would allow him to feel more comfortable about growing up, and so he would grow up.

But, apparently, that's still a thing he needs to work on.

And sure, I'm glad Steven came around at least a little, but I wonder if it's really enough... especially since he doesn’t even seem sincere on loving that the Gems upgraded the Steven Tag game.

But also, it seems to me like this issue is affecting more of his personality than just his desire to have fun... like he's losing quite a bit of himself. Remember how Pearl once described him?

You have to feel like yourself! Sweet and considerate, and only occasionally obnoxious! - Pearl, So Many Birthdays

It does seem like Steven's been having trouble with the considerate angle, lately. I mean, he kept busting into Jasper's hideout, he took over Amethyst's mentorship program (completely ignoring the feelings of the Gems being mentored), and in general, he's kinda... asserting himself and his opinions more than listening to others('). I'd even say that he's lost a lot of his sweet, and he's... probably more than occasionally obnoxious. ^_^; I mean, Aquamarine and Eyeball certainly think so. X3

Now? Well... I'd say that the Gems have at least as much of a point as Steven does. I have to admit, I feel a lot like Amethyst - I think she has a point about the direction Steven is (or had been) heading, and about what kind of example he was setting.

I agree that the issue is serious enough for Pearl to be justified in being willing to join in (which I really love her doing =3).

(Seriously, I’ve actually been worried for Steven.)

...And now I’d say that her old plea to feel like himself again is even more valid than ever.

In a way, Snow Day felt a lot like So Many Birthdays in reverse: instead of Steven trying to spend time with the Gems and making them feeling awkward about silly stuff, we now have the exact opposite. Now, instead of allowing himself to still be a kid, Steven tries to convince them not to make him be a kid. ...Which, again, is fair, but still. I'd say it goes too far when he hates the idea of "kid."

But yeah... I figure this has gotta be addressed sooner or later. Personally, I can't wait fo the day when it is. XD;

...call me crazy - call me super crazy - but I’m hoping that a certain Pink Doofball* will talk some more sense into him. X3 That, or maybe his dad.

(*If you're not familiar with my blog... well, here's my main theory, in case you're interested. I know it probably sounds insane, but it would mean a lot if you'd give it a look.)

#steven universe #steven universe: future #su:f #su:f snow day #su:f theories #theories

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atruththatyoudeny · 5 years

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Happy 1D Fanworks Appreciation Day!

I want to thank all the amazing authors and artists who make this fandom as special as it is.

Here are all the fics I read and loved this month: (this is going to be looong)

I don't want a taste (I want it all) || thedaggerrose (blessedfetish) || "Fuck me yourself you coward" AU - college - crack - humour - 3k

The AU where Harry tells Louis to go fuck himself, Louis tells Harry to fuck him himself, and Harry follows through.

Always || JamieJam93 || amnesia - references of past depression - 85k

Thousands, if not millions, of fans had been right. Harry and Louis had been in love and together for four whole years. They were 'the dream team'; the couple that made others sick while simultaneously envious.

But thousands of fans had been right about something else too. The pressure had been too much. The fame had been too much. The closet had been too much, and, four years after the pair swore to each other that nothing could break them on the night of their first kiss in 2010, they broke up.

Fast forward to 2018, on the night of One Direction's last ever concert, and Harry has yet to move on. It's not as sad as it seems-he still lives his life and, for the most part, he's happy-but he knows that Louis was his one true love and is trying to prepare himself for a life completely without the other when an accident erases Louis's mind of all of his memories. In reliving the moments with him, trying to make him remember, Harry comes to find that maybe he never really forgot them at all and maybe, like him, he hadn't moved on either.

Enjoy The Ride || 2tiedships2 || a/b/o - strangers to lovers - road trips - fluff - 11k

The one where Louis, an omega more than tired of being treated as lesser than alphas, is forced on a road trip by his beta besties only to meet Harry who might just be the alpha he never knew he wanted.

Whisper The Wind || jacaranda_bloom || strangers to lovers - surfing - fluff - 36k

The one where Louis rides an elevator that may change his life forever, Harry loves the ocean but is a terrible surfer, Liam proves not all heroes wear capes, and Niall might actually have all the answers.

A kiss to build a dream on || noellehenry || Christmas - social media - pining - 17k

Harry has a brief encounter with a handsome stranger at the local Christmas Fair, the romantic kiss they share changes everything.

Harry is determined to find his Prince Charming and sets up a tumblr blog with help from his best friend Niall, owner of the locally famous Steamin' mugs.

Let the challenge begin!

Enter the Rose Garden || angelichl || a/b/o - friends to lovers - 10k

Soft heats make omega Louis clingy. Enter alpha Harry.

I been feeling high when I touch your body || Anonymous || gym - boxing- 17k

Harry is a boxer, Louis is an architect and Liam is the worst cupid that could ever exist.

The Pink Ghost of Princess Park || objectlesson || PWP - humour - sex toys - established relationship - light dom/sub - 7k

The thought of the vibrator does not go away. It’s sitting there collecting dust all through January, and every time Harry and Louis have to leave town for a press event or a show or to record or what have you, they come back home, and it’s still there, the Pink Ghost of Princess Park, the fucking glittery haunting that Harry cannot stop thinking of Louis stuffing up his arse.

Leave Your Mark On Me || FullOnLarrie || a/b/o - restaurant - mating bond - friends with benefits - enemies to friends to lovers - 32k

When Chef Harry Styles’ unbonded Omega designation threatens to derail his career, he does the only thing he can, and goes in search of a black market bond.

You Can't Change The Rolling Tide || LiveLaughLoveLarry || sailing - enemies to friends to lovers - childhood friends - friends to lovers - 25k

Louis lives on a tiny island off the coast of England and runs a sailboat touring company. When Niall is sidelined for the summer after his knee surgery, Louis needs a temporary new partner. Who better to fill that role than Harry, recently returned to the island after five years away? Louis is pretty sure there are plenty of better options. They don't get along until they do.

Take Care Down By The Water || shyserious || fantasy - magical realism - celtic mythology - fluff - angst - 37k

Louis has spent his summers at his Granny's in the Isle of Barra for almost as long as he could remember.

This summer wasn't supposed to be any different, but the little Scottish island turned out to be harbouring more than just the gorgeous white beaches, the clear waters, and the town drunk scaremongering the foreign tourists.

Pray Till I Go Blind || el_em_en_oh_pee || religion - religion kink - demon - homophobia - blasphemy - 19k

Louis is (kind of) a preacher. Harry is (probably) a demon. Of course, nothing's as simple as that.

This is not a love story.

Nocturne || rosegoldhl || fairy tale - fantasy - action/adventure - pining - 36k

Harry is a goblin living in the woods, entirely enthralled with a human named Louis.

I'm still learning to love || literato || minor character death - kid fic - pining - fluff - light angst - 74k

An au where Harry has almost everything in the world except for the will to move on.

Tell Me Your Secrets || dimpled_halo || For A Good Time Call AU - enemies to friends to lovers - dirty talk - phone sex - humour - fluff - angst - 17k

A For a Good Time Call au where Harry and Louis get off on the wrong foot when they first meet. When dire circumstances forces them to become roommates, Harry finds out some things about Louis that he doesn't expect will help him discover some things about himself.

We come in line || starsinoureyes || The Switch AU - mpreg - fertility clinic - 19k

Harry decides to have a baby on his own, Louis doesn't agree it's a good idea but lets him do it anyway. It took seven years and Harry getting artificially inseminated for them to find each other. Louis has a secret he didn't tell Harry and it might affect their family. Also featuring: a pre-pregnancy party, fertility clinics and pregnancy scares.

Sugar, butter, flour || EmmyLouWho || Nailed it! (TV) Fusion - reality tv - pining - 5k

Louis watches Harry start to pour icing onto his half-raw, still hot cookie, and tries to hold in his groan. He isn't sure if they’ve ever had a contestant on the show who tried so hard…and yet completely failed at every single step.

You can’t rig the show to help a contestant, he tells himself. Even if they’re adorable.

dopamine || Only_angel_28 || collge/university - meet-cute - social experiments - fluff - strangers to lovers - 7k

Louis honestly doesn’t know how he gets himself into these types of situations.

Well, actually, that’s a lie. He’s doing this because he needs the money, and because he’s curious. And, okay, maybe because he might be a little bit lonely too. He has always had what his mother affectionately calls an “adventurous spirit.” Couple that with being a (tragically single) broke grad student and voila! here he is scrawling his signature on a release form provided by the university’s sociology department. Essentially, he is agreeing to snog a stranger on camera for the sake of science.

Shouldn’t be a problem, right? All he has to do is lock lips with a (hopefully) fit bloke, collect his money, and be on his way. Easy peasy. Little does he know, fate has other plans for him in the form of one adorably quirky art student who goes by the name of Harry Styles.

Best kind of bad something || wildestdreams || established relationship - angst - fluff - ambiguous/ open ending 40- k

A NorCal AU where Louis is the town troublemaker and everyone hates him except for Harry.

What, like it's hard? || starkidpatronus || Legally Blond Fusion - girl direction - enemies to friends to lovers - enemies to lovers - humour - fluff - 25k

In which Harry goes to law school to win back her man, but gets a lot more than she bargained for.

Tell Me This Is Paradise || QuickedWeen || girl direction - smut - 5k

Harry Styles has been lucky in love but unlucky in the bedroom with all of her previous boyfriends. When her best friend Niall finds out that she's never had an orgasm, she knows just what Harry needs: Louis Tomlinson. Niall sets Harry up to get sorted out.

Your rainbow will come smiling through || hazkaban || Cinderella Story AU - minor character death - bullying - fairy tale retelling - 17k

When harry isn't working at his stepfather's cafe, he's trying to make swim captain and trying to finish all his coursework on time. when he's not doing any of those things, he's talking to the boy he met on the oxford hopefuls subreddit. when they decide to meet, he's elated. he finally gets the chance to meet the boy he's been crushing on! when the day comes to meet his prince, he learns that his online crush is none other than louis tomlinson, captain of the football team and friend of his terrible stepbrothers. now harry has to decide whether telling louis the truth is the right choice or if it's better to just let sleeping dogs lie.

From, your secret admirer || flicker_album || secret admirer - Valentine's Day - tumblr - mentions of anxiety - 13k

The one where Louis is Harry's Tumblr crush so he sends him secret admirer messages for Valentine's Day

Every Story Has Its Scars, Ours Is a Brand New Start || Rearviewdreamer || strangers to lovers - hurt/comfort - domestic violence - angst - dubious consent - implied mpreg - kid fic - 62k

Life as a devoted husband and an amazing father turned out to be a little different than Louis had expected. Everyone tells him it doesn't have to be that way; that he's worth more and that he's so much stronger than any one person trying to keep him down. It's all just words though until he meets the one person who makes him truly believe it.

The Pain Is For Pleasure || lovelarry10 || BDSM - established relationship - 67k

Louis and Harry have been together for a few months. Everything is great, but there’s one question burning in the back of Louis' mind - why won’t Harry have sex with him?

I Just Wanna Get Back to Us || louiesunshine || soulmate-identifying marks - angst - post-divorce - exes to friends to lovers - mutual pining - getting back together - slow burn - 62k

Or, where Harry and Louis are divorced soulmates who are seeing each other for the first time in two years.

Soup Of The Day || jacaranda_bloom || strangers to lovers - minor injury - hurt/comfort - 20k

The Restaurant AU where Louis and Niall are chefs, Chicago is windy, and cracking the big time is harder than they ever imagined. But when a mysterious man starts grading Louis' soups by leaving little piles of rocks, could it be just the thing they need to get them on the road to success?

Bleeding Love || momentofclarity || girl direction - enemies to lovers - famous/non-famous - 27k

Louis is an animal rights activist who throws red paint at fur coat wearing it-girl Harry Styles. Then there's a crack in the surface and something new starts bleeding through.

Oh, Darling My Heart's On Fire (For You) || aiienharry || girl direction - fluff - angst - 33k

Two girls fall in love on a road trip that was supposed to last a week and a half, but it ends up feeling like a lifetime.

Sweet Dreams Are Made of This || MrsStylinson || fake/pretend relationship - escort - angst - heartbreak - fluff - friends to lovers - 30k

Loosely based on The Wedding Date. Inspired by 27 Dresses. Basically, Fake Boyfriend AU with a twist. Louis' sister is unknowingly getting married to the ex who broke his heart. When faced with the prospect of turning up alone, Louis panics and hires a corporate escort named Harry. General chaos and epic jealousy ensues.

#28th appreciation #1d fanworks appreciation day #fic rec #my reads #my fic rec #monthly reads #1d fanfiction #larry fics

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fy-winner · 5 years

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[Rolling Stone India] The Art of Being Mino

The South Korean hip-hop star wowed critics and fans alike with his solo album ‘XX’; but is he any closer to discovering who the ‘real’ Mino is?

Understanding Song Minho is kind of like catching lightning in a bottle; impossible to do but the idea itself is so dazzling, you need to give it a shot anyway. Tall and blonde with bleached eyebrows and sharp features, Song–better known mononymously as Mino–cuts quite the intimidating figure. He’s intelligent, polite and forthcoming on every answer and there’s an elegance to him that’s instantly appealing. There’s one little thing that proves to be more charming than any of this, however, and it comes in the form of a little note he sends on email after the interview; “Thank you for your interest!” it reads cheerfully, accompanied by a smiley emoji. “I hope we do it again when Winner’s back!” It’s simple but sweet and suddenly there’s yet another dimension to the chic, fierce rapper we’re used to seeing onscreen.

Before sitting down with Rolling Stone India for a conversation in December, the 25-year old musician’s schedule through 2018 included the release and promotion of a full LP with his band Winner, a Japan tour, a more extensive Asia tour, a series of performances across his home country South Korea, starring roles in several variety shows and a feature on YG Entertainment labelmate and his senior Seungri’s viral hit track “Where R U From.” November was busiest for him with the release of his first solo LP XX, a 12-track feast of hip-hop, tradition, emotion and culture. December finally closed with yet another single with Winner and a series of year-end performances in Korea.

While a bit of a break is warranted after the whirlwind of activity, Mino confirms he has no plans to take it easy in 2019. “Winner will release a full album this year,” he reveals cheerfully. “I cannot talk about our plan in advance, but we are preparing a surprise gift with a great musician!” The four-member K-pop band are working on their upcoming third LP and have already begun their tour schedules in full force– they’re currently on a six-city run of the United States with stops in Seattle, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Dallas, Chicago and New York.

Over the past year Mino has embraced the avant-garde with ease, stepping away from his swag-heavy hip-hop image and slipping into a more elegant avatar.

As an artist, Mino is full of surprises with an evolution that’s been thrilling to map. He started his career as a rapper in South Korea’s vibrant underground hip-hop scene back in 2010 (when he was just 16) but success took a while to come along. He debuted briefly in 2011 with a group called BoM before its premature disbandment in 2013, and then finally signed with leading music label YG Entertainment as a trainee. In 2014 he got his big break after participating in TV channel Mnet’s reality-survival program Win: Who Is Next and ending up as a member of the winning Team A–which would go on to form Winner and debut that same year. He shot to fame quickly this time around, gaining attention as a solo artist after finishing as runner-up on the fourth season of South Korean hip-hop survival competition Show Me The Money in 2015. With several eyes on him, he wowed with a more bluesy, melancholic persona on Winner’s 2016 EP EXIT: E. That same year he and YG Entertainment labelmate Bobby announced a duo project titled MOBB, which showed off a completely different, swag-heavy, fun-loving attitude, but in that EP he included “Body,” a solo single that blended sex and passion with angst and regret. Winner’s discography as of late has been bright, tropical and electronic-pop and he’s able to adapt to it effortlessly as well. His career trajectory spells ‘chameleon’ and even in times of trial there’s a sense of chill around him, as though deep inside he knows everything’s going to work out.

Over the past year Mino has embraced a life of avant-garde with ease, stepping away from his swag-heavy hip-hop image and slipping into a more elegant avatar. He seems more comfortable and willing to express himself in ways outside of music. He’s always had fondness for art but now seems to revel in it, regularly posting images of artwork he’s created on Instagram, participating in media projects, exhibitions and editorials. Last year, he displayed some of his own artwork at an exhibit titled ‘Burning Planet.’ The pieces were a combination of installation art with media and performance art which explored the idea of burnouts, stress and humanity’s exhausting pace of birth, work, death. It’s morbid, futuristic and almost prophetical in its warnings about the pressure society puts on young people and quickly gained critical acclaim. Mino remains modest in the wake of all the praise, saying, “I do not know if I have had any talent when I was young, but I painted as a hobby since I was a kid. So I have become interested in art naturally. It was a very good opportunity to exhibit ‘Burning Planet’ with [eye wear brand and collaborator] Gentle Monster. It was a good time to learn and experience many things.”

It’s this artistic and emotional evolution which seems to have had the biggest hand in the creation of XX. “I wanted to give a tweak to my existing image, which I guess has been heavy with hip-hop and rap. I wanted to start afresh,” he stated at a press conference in November, according to a report by the Korea Herald. XX is an extension of his performance art–dramatic, creative with an ambiguous title to boot (he’s explained he wanted his listeners to have their own interpretations of it.) The video for the lead single “Fiancé” features imagery around birds, dreams, fantastical landscapes and more. In addition to being involved in the entire concept, Mino also contributed to the set design–there’s a giant mural of a bluebird featured in the video which he painted himself. Several fans as well as popular YouTube channels like DKDKTV have attempted to decipher the meanings behind it and he’s thrilled to see all the various discussions. “It is one of the things I enjoy the most,” he says when I ask if he ever watches these theories. “Making parts that can be interpreted in various ways… I love watching them in various interpretations.” Could he tell us which theory got closest to deciphering his work? “I will never tell which one is correct or incorrect for more diverse guesses!” he teases.

“Fiancé” has also been appreciated for its unconventional combination of trot, a form of Korean folk music, and trap. To do this, the track samples Korean veteran singer Kim Taehee’s 1969 track “Soyanggang River Maiden” and blends it with bass-heavy, rolling trap and Mino’s drawling rap. “There was no intention to use ‘Soyanggang River Maiden’ from the beginning,” Mino says. “When the song was almost 80 percent complete, [YG Entertainment CEO and music producer] Yang Hyun Suk gave me an idea of putting a part of ‘Soyanggang River Maiden’ as a sample source, and it fit perfectly into the message and vibe of this song.” The haunting sample had younger fans enthralled and searching through YouTube to listen to the original track while applauding Mino for putting a limelight on Korean pop culture and history. Because in addition to the retro sound, the music video for “Fiancé” is a fever-dream blend inspired by the Korean Joseon dynasty and modern-day angst. In the clip the rapper wanders between fantasy and reality, dressed as an emperor as he searches the past, present and future for his one true love.

“I was getting to love myself, and everything [about that experience] is in this album.”

Is it possible that with younger artists like him using older genres like trot or paying homage to their history in music videos, it can help young listeners appreciate tradition a little bit more? Mino reveals that wasn’t really his intention at all. “In fact, I considered this song for older people than younger people,” he says, adding his plan was to erase misconceptions about hip-hop and ‘young’ music in the minds of older generations. “Even if the genre of hip-hop is popularized, it is still hard to catch up with higher age. So it seems like sampling of ‘Soyanggang River Maiden’ was a good plan for this song.” “Fiancé” has indeed added to the buzz around rappers defying expectations and stepping into traditional musical and visual territories. Hip-hop no longer has one definition and inspiration can come from anywhere. For Mino, the ideas for “Fiance” and XX came from several fragments of art. “I have so many things inspiring me, so I do not know which one to say first,” Mino says. “Among them, some works of (Italian painter) Piero Fornasetti, various plants–especially blue roses– and the Japanese anime Devilman were in my mind. However, it’s my inner self that affected it the most. I stayed alone in the studio every time so I could be deeply involved in my work and I looked back upon myself.”

XX as a whole has been well-received thanks to its use of complex metaphors, puns and double meanings in its lyricism, but for Mino, making this record was about finding his true self. “I got down to work in earnest in the beginning of 2018 for this album,” he says. “It contains various songs ranging from a song written two-three years ago to a song written two weeks before the album came out.” The rapper has written and composed each and every track, taking a dive into his own psyche to unleash several different sides of himself. In a video teaser right before XX‘s release, Mino explained he’d made the album by “grating [his] soul into it” and the result is an LP that is diverse, clever, saucy and undoubtedly one of the best hip-hop albums of 2018. Lyrically, he tackles everything from waiting for a lost love (“Fiancé”) to calling out obsessive fans (“Agree”) and bold eroticism (“Hope”). He gets emotional on “Alarm” and “Her,” exploring heartbreak, his relationship with his fans and self discovery. “I was getting to love myself, and everything [about that experience] is in this album,” Mino tells me. “I got a lot of thoughts and experiences from it and I am so proud of the production process.”

It’s clear from the get-go that wordplay is key; in the vicious introductory track “Trigger,” Mino uses syllables in its Korean title to play on the curse word ‘shibal,’ blazing through verses of self-praise with swagger, while on “Rocket” he drops references to art, Korean mythology and more. It’s the realest taste of what he’s truly capable of and it surprises and delights in equal measure. The impressive roster of collaborators on the record include YG Entertainment’s biggest in-house producers Choice37 and Millennium, comedian and actor Yoo Byung-jae and up-and-coming vocalist Blue.D, among others. There was one artist, however, that Mino was particularly excited to work with. “It was all fun, but working with YDG was extremely impressive,” he says proudly of his collaboration with the Korean hip-hop veteran on “Bow Wow.” “It was one of my dreams from my childhood.”

With XX being his first massive solo effort, Mino confesses there were hurdles along the way that he hadn’t expected. “The toughest part was familiarity,” he says, adding, “When I listened to songs hundreds of times to make a song, I always got confused. That’s the hardest thing to me.” Working alone means more pressure and he says he finds it more peaceful when he’s working with the members of Winner– Hoony, Yoon and Jinu. “When I work alone… I get sensitive because I am dissatisfied with any result. When I work with Winner, it’s really a load off my mind. Each member has their own roles, and I think we fit in nicely with each other.”

Mino’s journey has been wild, difficult, rewarding and a little messy–we’ve covered a lot of it over the course of the interview, but it still feels like we’re scratching the surface. He seems to agree; there’s a lot more he wants to consume and learn and a lot more he wants to show all his fans, old and new. “I am always thankful to fans who have supported me from the beginning and everyone who has known me since yesterday,” he says. “I will try to put a little more of my own personality and style on next album, and I also want to challenge something that no one expected.” While the search for the ‘real’ Mino continues, XX is a chapter in his story that marks a significant turn; he’s found a balance between the sexy rapper we see with Winner, the exuberant hip-hop dudebro he turns into with MOBB and the expressive poet he is as a soloist. It might not be lightning in a bottle just yet, but it’s pretty damn close.

#yg winner #winner #mino #t:article

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count-demonlord-of-decadence · 5 years

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THE NEW GIRL (She’s a Natural)

Ishtar Knoxville sat on the walkway one floor above and perpendicular to her family's three bedroom condo. Here she could observe her family's comings and goings discreetly. Not that her family took any notice of her except for when she was in trouble. But she learned early that the lack of attention provided ample opportunities to observe and learn. Ishtar wasn't like the other girls that attended her public high school. All they cared about was clothes, Instagram likes and what kind of cars people drove. When Ishtar was seven, her little brother Giuseppe Jr was born, erasing any presence she had in the family. Her school life was painfully ordinary until middle school when her friends wanted to act all grown. They were suddenly immersed in makeup, boys and social media. Ishtar tried to keep up but her “friends” quickly made it clear she was cramping their style. Ishtar rejected the conformist matriarchy her ”friends” embraced and they made her an object of mockery and ridicule. Ishtar took refuge in the school library, the last place any “cool kid” would be seen.

The last day before winter break of her seventh grade year, Ishtar was exploring a box of used books donated to the school when she discovered a copy of Justine by Marquis de Sade. The librarian told her it was inappropriate for school but didn't mind if she took it home. She read the whole book that very night. She was enamored with the philosophy, violence and sex. For the first time in her life she saw a world free from the superficial bullshit and embraced a life devoted to the pursuit of pleasure. Of course at age 11 her pleasures consisted of reading, candy and masturbation. And read she did. By her first day of high school she'd read every book deemed pornographic and subversive she could download. Her parents were all too happy to get her gift cards as gifts because it was relatively inexpensive and readily available. When her family asked what she was reading she just responded with the current most popular young adult novel. She was packing a bowl of the low quality high priced weed 14 year old girls have to buy when a strange little man knocked on her family's door.

His facial features made him look like a rat, a rat wearing an expensive suit. He seemed out of place in a suit to Ishtar, more of a blue collar man. The cigarette he was smoking didn't seem out of place. Her father, Giuseppe opened the door recognized the man and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

“You outta your fucking mind coming here!?” He exclaimed in hushed tones, unaware that his voice echoed of the walls. “I got kids in there.”

“Oh sorry bother you at your home Giuseppe,” the French accent and added sarcasm made the man's voice slightly more pleasant than nails on a chalkboard, “But you don't return my calls, texts, e-mail or faxes.” Ishtar swallowed a chuckle at that line. “And we need to talk. We've gotten some complaints about your high prices. The Syndicate doesn't mind if you skim a little here and there but you've been marking up the prices and pocketing the difference. Other dealers do the same. And that was cool but now your prices are so high customers are thinking about going to other suppliers. Now the competition knows they could potentially corner the market by simply lowering their prices. Imma tell you the same thing I told the other guys,” he handed him a slip of paper “these are the new prices. Be a good boy and stick to them, or else.”

Giuseppe Knoxville being half black half Italian suffered no disrespect, especially from a man a foot shorter and 75 pounds lighter than himself. But it was the pat on the cheek that set Giuseppe off. He grabbed the little man by the throat and balls, threatening to toss him over the rail snarling, “Who the fuck you think you are? Come to my house, disrespect me, in front of my kids! You fucking worm! You're just a goddamn go for! A fucking bell boy! I've taken shits with bigger balls than you! Don't ever come at me with no disrespect! Next time your candy ass will be flying to the ground floor!” Giuseppe released the man and stormed back into the condo. The man took 70 seconds to massage his balls and throat before leaving. Ishtar noted it was the coolest thing she'd ever seen her father do.

A week later, Ishtar was sitting in the same spot when the same rat looking man appeared. He wore the “Canadian tuxedo” comfortably with a Dallas Cowboys hat on backwards. Behind him were four eccentrically dressed individuals. The first was an African American wearing a burgundy top hat, tailcoat, dark glasses, and cotton plugs in the nostrils, as if to resemble a corpse dressed and prepared for burial in the Haitian style. The grouped stopped so a rubenesque Asian woman cosplaying as Saya from Blood-C could paint an ornate skull on the Black man’s face. A 6'1" natural blonde woman wearing a Pocahontas costume watched the painting with visible signs of impatience. Ishtar mused that her breast had to be fake. Last was an is immensely tall and and bulky man. He has long, powerful arms and legs, massive hands and feet. He has shoulder-length slick black hair and imposing facial features. He was dressed like pro wrestler Pete Dunne. The face painting completed, the Big guy turned the knob and opened the door. Ishtar knew the door was locked, having locked it nine minutes prior behind her, and surmised he broke the knob with his hand. The five entered and closed the door behind them. Ishtar dashed home. The doorknob was indeed borken when she entered. Before she could take in the scene, the blonde woman closed the the door and stood guard in front of it. Ishtar noted the woman appeared to be in her 40’s and clearly worked out. The big guy had his foot on her fathers left cheek, pinning his face to the floor. He had her father’s arm left torqued up in a such a manner that guaranteed damage. Her mother, Jessie was holding eight year old Giuseppe Jr., covering his eyes and ears. Isis, her older sister had her face pinned against the refrigerator. A kunai pointed at her throat kept her docile.

The Black man squatted, his crotch inches from Giuseppe's face and spoke with an Eastern European accent, “Permit me to introduce myself; my name is Count Demon Lord, leader of the Black Magick Syndicate. It seems you ignored my instructions and disrespected one of my men.”

The big guy released some of the pressure on Guiseppe’s arm so he could speak rationally.

“Please I can get you the money! I’ll apologize! I’ll do anything you say, just don’t hurt my family!”

Demon Lord rolled his eyes and stood up, the big guy added more pressure to the arm until Giuseppe was silent.

“OH, please er… what was his name le Fou?”

“Giuseppe Knoxville” the French rat looking guy replied.

“Right. Now see here Giuseppe this isn’t about the money. We have plenty of that. Hell this isn’t even about the thievery or the disrespect. We’re big fans of that kind of behavior. The truth is we have money and power beyond your wildest dreams. and the boredom that comes along with it. So when le Fou told us of your altercation, we found what we always seek, a flimsy excuse to act on our most deviant desires. So spare us the pleading and begging, we’re not interested. We’re not here to scare you or teach you a lesson. You all are our prey, and no amount of money or words will change that. Accept your fate so that you might entertain us a bit. Teah…”

The big guy took his queue and loudly broke Giuseppe’s humerus. His scream was drowned out by the laughter of the eccentrics.

“le Fou, search this hovel for anything of merit. Teah, break his legs. Zara, bring me that girl.” The rubenesque Asian woman dragged Isis by her dyed blonde hair to Demon Lord. Isis was 20 years old and had the kind of body other women slave in the gym for. Her face has always been described as angelic. She had her own room, but was suppose to move out and college so Ishtar and Giuseppe Jr. wouldn’t have to share. Their parents never pressured her to do so though. Demon Lord had Isis down to her bra and panties with seven strokes of a karambit he had secreted on his person. Giuseppe had his protests silenced by Teah loudly breaking his left tibia, much to the delight of the eccentrics. Giuseppe groaned an idle threat which provoked Teah to break his right femur. Demon Lord was roughly fondling Iris while Jesse, their mother, continued to cover Giuseppe Jr’s eyes and ears; begging for God to deliver them from this ordeal. Isis took this moment to resist, clawing at Demon Lord’s face. His response was a right hook that landed just under her left eye. Isis hit the carpet barely conscious, the bruise already starting to form under her tears. He then sliced off her bra and panties and raped her. Teah held Giuseppe's head, forcing his eyes open so he could watch.

Before he could discharge, le Fou returned with a pillowcase full of items in one hand and a book in the other. Ishtar could see it was her copy of Justine. From the sudden tension in the room Ishtar assumed interrupting Demon Lord’s raping had dire consequences for the interrupting party. Le Fou apologized saying, “Please forgive my rude interruption but I thought you’d find this of merit.” and handed him the book. Demon Lord took the book, his face expressed shock as he stared at the cover. He stood, his erection pointed directly at Ishtar, still staring at the book, “Which one of you animals reads this filth?!” he venomously demanded. The only person who spoke was Jessie, reciting the book of psalms from memory. “Brynhild!” Demon Lord was enraged “Cut pieces off that little boy until I get an answer!”

The blonde woman moved, but Zara grabbed Ishtar by the back of her neck so she couldn’t escape. Brynhild snatched Giuseppe from his mother’s arms effortlessly. She produced a balisong and threatened to cut off the crying boy’s middle finger. Giuseppe was having his broken arm manhandled by Teah. When Demon Lord started to sodomize Iris with his lizard skin shoe did Ishtar proclaim the book was her’s. Demon Lord approached Ishtar, kneeling in front of her asking, “This is your book?”

“Yes.” Ishtar murmured.

“You’ve actually read this?”

“Twice.” she nodded.

“What did you think about it?”

“Well, I like how the characters do whatever they want without fear of any consequences.”

“Have you read the sequel? Juliette, or Vice Amply Rewarded?”

“Yes, I finished it about a month ago.”

“What is your name Child?”

“Ishtar.”

“After a goddess of sex, desire, justice, and political power; perfection. Ishtar, our syndicate is full of libertines who follow the treatises outlined in de Sade’s books. Our money and power allow any action to go unpunished by law enforcement. That’s why no police are coming, none of your neighbors will check on you. I offer you an invitation into our syndicate, and a life of vice amply rewarded. Or you can watch us rape, torture and murder your family and luxuriate in it. But know that revenge and justice belong to the rich and powerful and none are as rich and powerful as us. We’ll never be arrested or tried for this. No one would deign to take our lives on your behalf.”

Ishtar thought it over. Her father was a successful contractor out of high school until three years ago, when he injured his back on the job. But because Giuseppe wasn’t following established safety protocols, the company refused to pay his medical bills. He exhausted their savings on a lawsuit he lost. All because he wanted the world to understand he was a real man, full of arrogance and machismo. In the seven years since Giuseppe Jr was born, Ishtar could count on one hand the number of times her father had a meaningful conversation with her; save holidays, birthdays, and half assed parenting during the commercials of baseball games. His son was the focus of his love and affection. Why should she act in the interests of such a man?

Jessie Knoxville wasn’t Ishtar or Isis’ biological mother. That honor belonged to Isabelle Flores-Knoxville, currently known as Prisoner #97S444. She was convicted 12 years ago for arson in the second degree and two counts of attempted murder for fire bombing a warehouse owned by an alleged racist. Two security guards were present with one dying, though she was found not guilty of one count of murder in the first degree. Sentence: 18 years, eligible for parole in five which was denied for amassing other charges while incarcerated. Jessie Knoxville was a woman who assumed her first two marriages to abusive douchebags were due to her lack of faith in God. Every ill and woe in this world was due one’s poor relationship with God, according to her. She became devout and seven months later she meets Giuseppe Knoxville. After a 298 day courtship they were married, which Jessie believed was God’s blessing on her. Ten months later Giuseppe Jr was born, another miracle she attributed to God because her first two marriages produced no children. God didn’t keep her from gaining 65 lbs from an increasingly sedentary lifestyle since becoming pregnant.

Ishtar wished her sister refused to move about just to spite her, knowing once her room became Ishtar’s, she’d never get it back. But the truth was Giuseppe squandered their college fund on that failed lawsuit, and Isis would throw this in their father’s face whenever Jessie wasn’t in earshot. But that was a smokescreen for Isis did not talent of any kind. Her grades have always been poor, since kindergarten. Jessie and Ishtar have openly pondered if she has an undiagnosed learning deficiency. She couldn’t learn high school cheerleading routines, sing to save her life or act her way through a high school play. She couldn’t paint, draw, sculpt or weave.

She could barely add an app to her phone without assistance.

Giuseppe Jr was only seven and understood his parents would never believe he could sin. Twice his school accused him of vandalism and both times they denied he was capable of such behaviour. Ishtar once accused him of stealing a pair of her panties, but their parents assumed she’d misplaced them. Isis accused him of stealing some money from her and nothing was done. He acted with impunity and at that thought Ishtar had her answer. Thinking upon characters from the books she’d read, she put her hands on her hips and replied, “Vice amply rewarded please.” earning an applause and cheers from the eccentrics.

“Excellent!” Demon Lord mused, “You may have the honor of orchestrating their fates.”

“Do we have to kill them?” Ishtar asked.

“Only if you desire it child. Some fates are worse than death”

“Good. I really want them to suffer and go on suffering. I assume no act is taboo?”

“My child, if one here will not commit the act you envision, we can have someone here who will in thirty minutes.”

“In that case, I want one of you to sodomize my little brother.” Ishtar chose her words so the Giuseppe Jr wouldn’t understand. The eccentrics all looked to Teah, who released the father, licked his lips and took hold of the son. Brynhild took over the job of guarding the father while Demon Lord resumed his raping of Isis. Jessie became hysterical and tried to rush Teah, but Zara stopped her with a quick kick to her liver. By then Teah had the boy naked and on the carpet in front of his father. Teah removed his own clothing, revealing an uncircumcised member as large as Ishtar’s forearm. Using only his spittle as lubricant, Teah violently forced his prick into the boy, pulling his hair to keep his face in his father’s line of sight.

Jessie began to scream about the wrath of God and how vengeance will be his and how they’re all going to Hell. “Le Fou was it?” Ishtar asked of the little man to which he nodded, “Go into my bitch sister’s room, find her dildo and stuff it into my STEP mother’s mouth.”

“I thought these would come in handy.” Le Fou replied producing Isis’ John Holmes Realistic Dildo and a roll of duct tape from the pillow case. Zara zip tied Jessie’s hand behind her back as Le Fou approached. Between the two of them, it only took 50 seconds to get the dildo secured in her mouth.

Ishtar used the basting brush from the kitchen to paint an inverted pentagram on her father’s face with the blood leaking from her brother’s continually violated anus. She then kicked him in the ribs six times before asking someone to castrate him. Brynhild was happy to oblige. Le Fou brought her a fillet knife from the kitchen and helped Ishtar strip and restrain Giuseppe while Brynhild did the deed. Ishtar took her father’s genitalia and put them in the microwave and set it to cook on full power for 29 minutes. Giuseppe fainted from the pain, much to the disgust of the eccentrics.

Ishtar then approached Teah, staring at Jessie as she said, “I want you to discharge in my mouth so I can show these cunts I’m in for well more than a pound.” Teah intensified his thrusting to expedite orgasam. When on the verge, he pulled out so swiftly splattered wherever possible. Ishtar aimed the blood and shit covered member to her mouth. Ishtar was startled by the kinetic energy of the discharge; it’s thickness made it impossible to swallow in two gulps. What she couldn't swallow, she spat in her little brother’s face. Taking this cue, Demon Lord pulled out and discharged his thin, yet plentiful semen all over Giuseppe Jr’s face; the eccentrics applauded.

Ishtar went to the kitchen and returned with a can of insecticide. She handed it to Brynhild and ordered her to shove it in Jessie cunt. Upon hearing this, Jessie offered the fiercest resistance she could, which was futile given her condition. Brynhild laughed as dodged and blocked Jessie’s kicking as a diversion, Teah grabbed her by the neck, picked her up and slammed her back into the armchair only Giuseppe was allowed to sit in. Before she could recover, Brynhild tore her cheap sweat pants and cheap panties off and Teah grabbed her heels and spread her legs as wide as possible. Ishtar took the cap off and opened her mother’s vagina for penetration. Brynhild lubricated the spray can with juices fingered out of Jessie and herself and used both hands to shove it in. She simply whimpered through the ordeal, until the spray activated; then she screamed and thrashed about as best she could. This amused the eccentrics. Teah and Brynhild released her so she could fall to the floor and give birth to the spray can.

Isis began to stir and at Ishtar's command Zara stood her up by her hair and cuffed her behind the back. Ishtar caressed her sister's smooth skin with the flat of the fillet knife as she spoke, “How many times did you call me lesbian, dyke, creep and retarded?”

“Please Ish…”

“How many times did you punch, kick and slap me? Why did you hate me just for being your sister?”

“I'm sorry Ishtar. Please stop…”

“YOU'RE ONLY SORRY TO SAVE YOUR MISERABLE LIFE YOU STUPID FUCKING COW! But I have no plans to murder you, yet. I want you to experience the lesbianism that disgusts you so. Zara, can you make this bitch cum like she never came before?”

“Not my bag babe, but Brynhild can.” Zara shoved Isis into the armchair and spread her legs like Teah had done Jessie as Brynhild knelt and began cunnilingus. Meanwhile Jessie began to make coughing and choking noises in between random spasms. Demon Lord lacerated her left cheek while cutting the tape. He removed the dildo from her mouth and she vomited violently. This brought Giuseppe back to consciousness, who could only wail in pain and despair.

“Yes! Oh my gods yes!” Ishtar shouted. “That sound is what I wanted to hear! The sound of a man being devoured by is despair, his anguish!” Ishtar stripped off her clothing and began frigging her hairy cunt. “Teah,” she commanded, “fuck my father up the ass. Lube it with his whore’s vomit. Le Fou, fuck his whore up the ass. Have them face to face so they can kiss each other. I wish to discharge my fuck upon their faces.” Demon Lord to position behind Zara adding, “This cunt craves prick, and prick it shall have!”

It was arranged and performed as described.

When all save Giuseppe and Jessie had discharged, Ishtar packed a suitcase with her meager belongings. She dressed and departed with the eccentrics. Teah Demon Lord, and Le Fou were in one car, Zara, Brynhild and Ishtar in another. Demon Lord’s group had sped off ahead, and as Ishtar’s group followed the spotted Giuseppe Jr three blocks away. He walked like a zombie, naked and dripping blood from his rectum. Ishtar bade Brynhild pull over and she opened her door saying, “Junior! Thank God you got out of there too! Quickly, get in before they find out we’re gone.” Giuseppe Jr was apprehensive, also seven and in a lot of pain. No one answered any door he knocked on, no passerby offered him help or listened to his pleas. This was the only help offered him since leaving the condo. He took Ishtar’s hand and got in the car. Ishtar closed the door behind him and told Brynhild to drive. The doors loudly locked and they sped to catch up to the other car.

“Relax little brother, everything is gonna be alright from now on.” Ishtar smiled. This brought a cackle from the driver seat. Giuseppe Jr got a good look at Brynhild in the driver seat and panicked. He tried to open the door but couldn’t, the doors had childproof locks.

#Evilcorey's pointless fiction #fiction #pointless fiction

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ohn1m · 5 years

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The Art of Being Mino

The South Korean hip-hop star wowed critics and fans alike with his solo album ‘XX’; but is he any closer to discovering who the ‘real’ Mino is?

Mino's journey is an ongoing one and 'XX' is a chapter that marks an artistic coming-of-age on this wild ride.

Understanding Song Minho is kind of like catching lightening in a bottle; impossible to do but the idea itself is so dazzling, you need to give it a shot anyway. Tall and blonde with bleached eyebrows and sharp features, Song–better known mononymously as Mino–cuts quite the intimidating figure. He’s intelligent, polite and forthcoming on every answer and there’s an elegance to him that’s instantly appealing. There’s one little thing that proves to be more charming than any of this, however, and it comes in the form of a little note he sends on email after the interview; “Thank you for your interest!” it reads cheerfully, accompanied by a smiley emoji. “I hope we do it again when Winner’s back!” It’s simple but sweet and suddenly there’s yet another dimension to the chic, fierce rapper we’re used to seeing onscreen.

Over the past year Mino has embraced the avant-garde with ease, stepping away from his swag-heavy hip-hop image and slipping into a more elegant avatar.

“I was getting to love myself, and everything [about that experience] is in this album.”

Mino at a press event for ‘XX’ in November 2018.

Mino’s journey has been wild, difficult, rewarding and a little messy–we’ve covered a lot of it over the course of the interview, but it still feels like we’re scratching the surface. He seems to agree; there’s a lot more he wants to consume and learn and a lot more he wants to show all his fans, old and new. “I am always thankful to fans who have supported me from the beginning and everyone who has known me since yesterday,” he says. “I will try to put a little more of my own personality and style on next album, and I also want to challenge something that no one expected.” While the search for the ‘real’ Mino continues, XX is a chapter in his story that marks a significant turn; he’s found a balance between the sexy rapper we see with Winner, the exuberant hip-hop dudebro he turns into with MOBB and the expressive poet he is as a soloist. It might not be lightening in a bottle just yet, but it’s pretty damn close.

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#⟨ ✕ « info »▕ ▏ʏ'ᴀʟʟ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇᴡꜱ? ⟩#/ it's so damn long.#a l e!!! musiałam bo to ważny wywiad.

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