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eds6ngel · 5 months

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✮⋆｡°✩⋆˙ a christmas miracle

a 'when i kissed the teacher' spinoff.

summary: you and steve were in a weird situation. you weren't actively trying to get pregnant, but you weren't exactly being safe either. so, how will steve react when he opens his final christmas present?

warnings: dad!steve. mom!reader. fem!reader. afab!reader. 90s!au. mentions and allusions to sex. mentions of pregnancy. pet names. kissing. tons of crying. alena being too young to understand pregnancy (kinda cute tho). alena being a cutie pie as always. some worries over steve's reaction. but mostly fluff and comfort!! [1.9k].

author's note: hi everyone!! i am back!! my first semester of uni is finally over, so i can get back to fic writing a little more! i couldn't neglect my happy family like this, so i've tackled a pregnancy fic! i've never been pregnant, but i do wish to be in my life, so all of my research has been for my own benefit and utilised in this fic. if i'm inaccurate in any parts, please let me know for the benefit of the readers and myself!! ♡

It was hard not announcing the news to Steve. Having to attend your first scan without him was heartbreaking, but the look upon the nurse’s face after you told her you were going to wrap up the ultrasound photo, along with a card saying “Merry Christmas Daddy” and a pair of small, cream, woolen socks, just confirmed your decision was the right one.

You and Steve were in a sort of weird situation. You had stopped using protection, but weren’t in a position were you were actively trying to get pregnant. You agreed that any time from now was an okay time for the two of you to have a child, but also weren’t bothered if the pregnancy tests came back negative.

But, a little Christmas miracle decided to form inside of you, the test showing two lines on December 11th, 1999.

Steve and Alena had gone grocery shopping for an hour, the perfect opportunity for you to wrap Steve’s gift.

Rolling out the wrapping paper, you placed a grey, fluffy blanket in the centre, before laying on top the Christmas card which read:

Hi Daddy.

I’m six weeks old today!

I can’t wait to meet you soon! I’m planning to enter the world on August 20th, 2000.

My mom is keeping me very safe right now as I grow, but I’ll still be listening out for you from inside my home.

See you in nine months.

Love, your future child <3

And as you were about to place the ultrasound photo next to the cream baby socks you previous put underneath the card, your eyes started welling with tears once more.

Was it the hormones? Maybe. But, something in you felt this was all natural. You were growing a human life inside of you, one that has half of your DNA and the other half the love of your life’s. That was something to bask in the intense emotion of.

With everything laid out neatly, you reached over for the sellotape, folding over the edges and carefully sticking them in place.

Wrapping the gift in a pretty cream bow, matching the socks inside, and adding a label reading “To my darling Stevie,” you added it to the pile of increasing gifts in the corner of yours and Steve’s bedroom.

Now, just a week to go until he gets his surprise.

You cradle your stomach, despite the size not increasing at all yet, and whisper to your unborn child “A week and he’ll know, my love. Your beautiful existence will be known.”

“Mom! Dad! Wake up! Wake up!”

You are awoken by the sound of your bouncing ten-year-old, aggressively rocking your fiancé as he groans loudly, his eyes adjusting to the light peaking through the window.

“Mornin’ pumpkin,” he murmurs, you opening up one eye as Alena’s full set of brand-new adult teeth smile right at you.

“And what are you doing up so early, missy?” you ask, the clock on the bedside table next to Steve shining a bright 6:00 in the morning, illuminating the room in a red glow.

“Mom” she drags out, rolling her eyes playfully, “You know what day it is!”

You tap your chin lightly, playing along with the joke, “Hmm… I feel as if I may need a reminder.”

“It’s Christmas Mom! And I may or may not have seen all the presents you left underneath the tree…” her vocal pitch increases, looking away in a guilty look as Steve reaches up and pulls her down into his body, the girl screaming as he ruffles her hair.

“Did someone be naughty and peak underneath the tree?” he grits through his teeth, Alena shouting in a reply, “I didn’t mean to, I promise! I saw it on the way to your room!”

You begin to tickle her sides as Steve holds her in place against his chest, making the girl scream in delight loudly, “Is someone now on Santa’s naughty list?”

“Mom…” she pouts her lips, a grumpy expression adorning her face as you sigh sadly, “I know sweet cheeks, you don’t believe in him anymore.”

“I’m sorry…”

You hold out your arms as you wrap her in a warm hug, “Don’t be sorry, baby. I knew you would realise eventually. You’re getting too old!”

She gasps and looks into your eyes, crossing her arms over her chest, “I am not old! You and Dad are old.”

You start giggling in shock as Steve just opens his mouth wide, “You better watch yourself, pumpkin.”

“Yeah,” you hold up a finger in warning, before pointing it over to Steve, “Dad doesn’t like being reminded he’s in his mid-thirties.”

And now it is Steve’s turn to attack you, but instead with aggressive kisses, littering them up your neck and across your face lightly, Alena now old enough to understand the playful love between the two of you. “You’re almost thirty as well, you know.”

“Two more years to go, babe. I’m still in my prime development decade,” you smirk at him.

And it wasn’t just you who was developing.

A loud gasp can be heard along with the shredding of paper as Alena holds up her latest gift, “You actually got me it?”

For such a small gadget, the Barbie Digital Camera cost you $70, the most expensive gift yet, but maybe not the one which will cause the biggest reaction.

“Of course I did! It’s the one thing you kept pointing at in the magazine!”

She giggles with a bright smile, “Thank you! Thank you!”

She launches herself at you, the motherly instinct in you clutching onto your stomach to protect your unborn child, hoping Steve didn’t notice the movement. The surprise would be known in the next half an hour.

“And after you’ve taken your photos, we can connect it to Dad’s computer and see it come to life! How cool is that?”

“Can I take it to school?” she asks, clutching the box in her hands.

“I assume you can! But, just ask Mrs. Critchley before you take it in, okay?”

“Okay!” she smiles, plopping herself back down on the carpet to open the rest of her gifts.

Your hands began to sweat. Alena was all done opening her presents, patiently waiting for you and Steve to unwrap yours.

Steve let you attend to your gifts first. Everything from a brand-new necklace designed with a rose quartz, matching your engagement ring, to the latest Nokia phone, you were thankful for everything he had bought you, praising him with many gentle kisses and warm hugs.

Now, it was Steve’s turn. You specifically told him to leave one present until last, leading him to give you an eyebrow raise and a shrug before simply agreeing, used to your weirdness by now. You got him everything from a new cologne to a new pair of Nike shoes, the soles of his old pair wearing thin from how much he was working over the Christmas holidays.

But, after one final kiss, it was finally time.

“Can I open this now?” Steve jokes, the nerves deeply settling in your stomach. You don’t even know why you were worried, you had stopped using protection in mutual agreement, knowing kids could be a possibility from that result. There was just a voice in your head trying to convince you an awful reaction would occur.

“Uh, yeah… Yeah, you can.”

“Hey,” he puts an arm on your shoulder, “Why are you so nervous?”

You lightly chuckle, “You’ll find out once you open the gift.”

Even after all of these years, Steve still wasn’t the smartest. Verbal cues were not his strong suit, but my God could he read body language like a champ.

He gives you a confused look before unwrapping the cream-coloured bow, delicately tearing apart the paper as his eyes immediately notice the ultrasound scan.

He may be oblivious, but he isn’t that oblivious. He has one very similar in his bedside table drawer of his sweet ten-year-old daughter sat next to him.

The tears form at his eyes before he can even recognise them. Small sniffles enter the atmosphere as his hazel eyes make contact with you, “Are you serious?”

And the tears follow suit for you, nodding frantically as he leans across the floor to collect you in his arms, crying into your shoulder.

“How far along?” he mumbles into your shoulder, tears dripping onto the red fabric of your dress.

“Read the card and you’ll find out.”

Steve was too drawn into the ultrasound scan to even notice the card you had gotten him. Releasing from the hug, he keeps a gentle hand on the small of your back, picking up the card and carefully opening it, reading the words you had written, the tears increasing as he noticed it was from the perspective of his baby.

“Wha— How? When did you get this done?” he stutters out, still in complete shock of the entire moment.

“Pregnancy test has been in the bathroom trash can for two weeks. I was scared you were going to notice it for a while, but then I remembered it’s you, and you don’t notice anything,” you giggle, Steve not even bothered by the joking insult, too caught up in his own emotions, “And two Thursday’s ago, I didn’t go to work. Went to the hospital and got the scan, and just hung around Starcourt until the time I would normally come home.”

“Well, you fooled me,” he chuckles, leaning in for a kiss which you gladly accept, cupping his cheeks as you smile into it.

“I love you so much, beautiful girl. And I love the baby who is growing inside of you. You’re so strong. Your body is so strong. I just— I can’t wait. I can’t wait to meet them.”

His hand had migrated down to your stomach, gently cradling the unborn child inside of you.

Alena had finally looked up from her Etch-a-Sketch, noticing the tears falling down both yours and Steve’s cheeks, your hands holding tightly onto each side of his head as your foreheads were leant against each other, kneeling on the soft carpet of the living room.

“Mom? Dad? Why are you crying?”

Steve turns around to face his daughter, you looking softly into her eyes, “Because Mom is having a baby, sweetie.”

Steve passes her the ultrasound scan, her face scrunching up in confusion as she points at it, “Why is it just a black blob?”

Steve begins laughing as his head falls onto your shoulder, sweetly rubbing up and down the sides of your waist.

“Because when a baby is first made, it starts out as a black blob and then grows into the full size baby we all know and love,” you explain gently to her.

“Hmm…” she takes in, before asking her next question, “But how did it get there?”

Your eyes widen as Steve’s hands stop on your waist, refusing to lift his head and look at his daughter.

You smile through the awkwardness, remembering that her sex education lessons would start in a matter of months, “You’ll find out soon, baby.”

thank you ever so much for reading!! do you guys want any more pregnancy related fics? i really want to do some research into post-partum for myself, so do you want me to skip straight to that, or tackle other things like morning sickness, gender reveal, baby shower, stuff like that? feel free to let me know!! ♡

taglist: @livsters @bakugouswh0r3 @nix-rose @ihatepeanutss @suitelif3 @clincallyonline17 @crowssixof @starkeylover @eris-rose-86 @frostandflamesfanfic @tlclick73 @steveshairspray @superlegend216

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bettsfic · 7 months

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Writing q: do you/did you ever feel like there's a dichotomy between writing something fun and light and tropey & writing something good/that you're proud of? I'm trying to write a romcom-esque multichap fic that ends happily but I keep running into this mental block that it's not Serious Work so it can't be what i would consider good (which is hilarious because a) its all fanfiction none of it is serious?? and b) i know that's not true!) lmao. Was jw if you have any thots on this

i've got an analogy for you.

before i started writing, i was really into baking. back then i was not only a perfectionist but an extremist. i believed that REAL baking meant using the rawest possible ingredients. the idea of store-bought puff pastry or pie crusts was appalling to me.

and every year i baked a pumpkin pie for thanksgiving. to bake the pumpkin pie, i had to go out at early o'clock in the morning on a saturday to my local farmer's market and pick out the most perfect pumpkins. and i don't know if you've ever baked pumpkin pie with real pumpkins but it takes a long damn time. and it's hard. and so i baked the pumpkins for hours and scraped out the innards and made a puree, and i roasted the seeds for a snack. and amid all that, i made the crust from scratch too.

the pie always turned out! so i kept making it that way. until one year i just wasn't up to the task, and instead swallowed my pride and bought canned pumpkin and a premade crust.

and it tasted exactly the same as the pie that took me an entire day to make. it was also much cheaper, because in our era of industry, the processed stuff has become more affordable than the raw stuff unless you grow it yourself. (and believe me, i wanted to.)

the only difference i could discern was in the texture, because canned pumpkin is pureed more than i could puree real pumpkin. canned pumpkin also has other kinds of gourds in it, but that doesn't really affect the taste. i also felt bad for not supporting my local farmers. but it was worth it to be able to bake a pie from start to finish in 90 minutes.

for so many years i had it in my head that if a process is harder, the result is better. it was that mentality that kept me in a job i hated for a long time. it's hard and i don't like it, therefore it's more serious and respectable. it was unconscionable to me to think that something fun and easy could result in something good.

when you're writing fanfiction or anything where you're relying on the audience's knowledge of something else (like tropes), you can get it in your head that it's inherently easier and therefore worse. and because it's a skill, in order to become better at it, you have to challenge yourself. to challenge yourself, you have to make it harder.

but you're making something. you're putting words on a page in formations that have never existed before. that's hard, period. you don't have to make it harder. your readers will value it regardless of the challenge you give yourself. every thanksgiving, my family just appreciated that i had baked a pie. they didn't care how i'd baked it or what ingredients i used. yes, the longer and more difficult process created a product i was more proud of than the shorter, easier process. but you can't taste pride.

this is something i have to remind myself of all the time, because my instinct is to make everything more difficult than it has to be. you're always going to be your own worst critic, in part because you're the only one who knows your own process and the blood, sweat, and tears you put into it. but ultimately, nobody cares about the pumpkins. all they want is the pie.

#writing advice #process

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nocturnowlette · 6 months

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The Dragon

The dragon walks up behind me. I'm in a nondescript white room. The walls, floor, and ceiling are all the same material: something ethereal, almost seeming to glow but only when I'm not directly looking. The light emanating from seemingly nowhere seems to infinitely reflect off every surface, making it sometimes hard to tell if the walls are even there, or how big this space really is. Though I haven't turned around, I know it's the dragon. I've seen him before, but I forget where. More importantly, I've felt him before. It feels like it's something I've always known, some part of my DNA, maybe my entire lineage. This dragon's presence is known more to my instincts than my mind. His name is - translated to something I can understand - is Sunny. Though, honestly, I don't think there is a name that can accurately represent a creature like this. He's right behind me now.

I haven't turned around, in a way it doesn't feel necessary. I've known his ears, half cones tapering off to a point at the back. I know his horns, between the two ears, bowed outwards and bending in 90 degree angles. They rise until they're just above the ear, tilting gently forward just past the ears before sharply bending straight backwards, then bending one more time downwards, ending in a sharp point. I know his tail, seemingly large and yet ever-changing in its largeness. Dulled fins, equally spaced, line the top; the bottom half, a lighter pink than his short-furred purple everywhere else, runs with slight waves along its surface. They feel like waves frozen in time. I sense waves of something wash over me. Energy? Pressure? Like a dull droning hum without any sound. It's surrounding me.

As he kneels down behind me, the presence seems to double, then triple in intensity; the air feels tough to move through, and so I don't. Cutting through the invisible waves assaulting my mind, thoughts come flooding to me; Where am I? What is this? What's going to happen to me? A sense of danger starts to creep over me, the hair standing on my back, heart rate increasing- The dragon puts his arms over my shoulders, gently, and places his head over his arm on my left. He seems almost impossibly peaceful. A moving statue. The presence seems to have disappeared entirely, giving me room to think. And yet, I'm paralyzed. All I can really do is stare.

The dragon, whose gaze was near immobile and dull moments before, seems to have the shine of the room gently reflect in his eye. He takes a deep breath in, holding for a short moment, before breathing slowly, slowly out. His breath is a light purple. Due to his snout and head position, the breath is missing me entirely: likely a good thing, perhaps he's purposefully avoiding my nose? We sit there for a while. A few minutes, maybe. He breathes in, slowly, holding it for a moment, then out, slower. I find myself starting to sync with his breaths, so steady that it feels like a gentle rhythm. As much as I don't want to admit it, it's giving some comforting solace in the middle of the confusion. That, and the slight smell of lavender.

The contrast of the artificial coldness of the room and the smell of pure nature is dizzying. Or, something is dizzying. I close my eyes, trying to take in fewer senses and get my mind sorted. He starts to purr. Can dragons purr? Apparently, they can. The rumble has a strong feeling to it, like snoring, but I adjust quickly to it. It reminds me of game controllers and earthquakes and dryers. Definitely dryers. It has that slight rumble to it, like something light is tumbling, and the warmth. I'm surrounded by warmth, like a dense blanket.

The arms around my shoulders are like a scarf, the dragon seeming to be ever closer than before. When did he move? Wait, where am I? Why am I thinking about all of this? I open my eyes. The room looks different. I swear, it does. The color is slightly different, but only in the corners of my vision. A light purple? It smells like lavender. I look to my left again, the breath still steadily pumping out. Is there no ventilation? It feels harder to breathe, like the air is dense. I need to breathe in more, but I'm only getting dizzier. I need to find a way out-

"Breathe in, deeply."

I feel my lungs work on their own, taking a breath that feels impossibly large.

"Breathe out, slowly."

My lungs empty as if there was nothing there in the first place.

My brain feels heavy, exhausted.

"I'm sure it does."

What?

"Don't think too hard."

My thoughts are like molasses.

"Isn't that such a nice feeling?"

It's hard to disagree. It's actually very, very hard.

It feels like I've always loved this feeling.

"You have."

I have?

"Yes. You ask a lot of questions for a pet."

I'm a pet?

The dragon chuckles.

"Of course. Why do you think you're here?"

Why am I here?

"To meet me, officially. You've always known me."

I have?

"You have."

I have.

"There we are. Don't you feel lovely?"

I do.

"Isn't that all that matters?"

It is.

"Good pet. Let's go home, now."

Anything you wish.

#fanfiction #furry #hypnosis #for patricia taxxon

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ilanarose7 · 2 months

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Things I thought about when waking up this morning after watching c3 episode 90:

Last night post-game, I was thinking about how Bells Hells need to get off the moon ASAP. My brain focused on how FCG used the Staff of Dark Oddysey during Team Detonation's mission, so they just needed to sleep and then get out...

..but then I woke up with a bunch of thoughts

Ashton went Titan-mode to get themself and FCG to safety, which means not long after the next game starts, Ashton will be back to 2 points of exhaustion during a period of mass chaos while the Vanguard and Imperium forces are probably trying to hunt them all down. Also, FCG healed both themself and Ashton, but if anything else happens they are low on HP

FCG has been at a high stress level most of this entire moon run, so the chances of the murder-bot getting set off if they get into another situation before sleeping

Imogen sleeping is probably a TERRIBLE IDEA!!! The last thing she should be doing is taking a long rest because sleep leads to dreams and dreams lead to pissed-off Liliana probably trying to contact her daughter to find out if she knew about the assassination attempt. So in my opinion, Imogen should NOT sleep until they get her off Ruidus

We don't really know if Fearne's biological-dad was in the explosion/died. Yes, Gloamglut was out and about in the aftermath, but did he have his rider?

Two major conversations within the party need to happen following those last events: First, Imogen clocked Orym casting Hex so time to talk about Orym's secret deal. Second, Ashley was panicking last night when Matt was rolling damage for FCG and Ashton on a level that hasn't happened since Ashton's shard incident. Fearne, time to tell Ashton how you really feel

Thank you for coming to my post-Episode 90 TEDtalk. That was such a good episode and I had to remind myself to breathe multiple times throughout.

IS IT THURSDAY YET?!?!?!

#critical role #cr spoilers #bells hells #ashton greymoore #fearne calloway #orym of the air ashari #laudna #imogen temult #chetney pock o'pea #cr fcg #my brain was working overtime last night watching the chaos unfold #thursday can't come soon enough

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jvngkook97 · 2 years

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Can I request for Jungkook with boobs obsession. Kinda smut ?

I Love Boobies

pairing; vlive!jungkook x female!reader

genre; fluff, humor, smut, established relationship

warnings; menstrual cycle, mentions of blood, period sex, irritable reader, impatient reader, light exhibitionism, mischievous koo, handsy koo, boobie worship, praise kink, nipple play, oral (f receiving), penetration without a condom (reader has IUD), soft sex koo, attentive to your needs koo, only wants the best for you koo, aftercare

rating; 18+ minors dni

w/c; 3,414

a/n; thank you so much for the request! this is my first attempt at full on smut. i’m so sorry if it’s bad. 🫣 shout out to all my fellow 90s babies who were in the ‘I heart boobies’ bracelet craze. like + reblog if you enjoyed. feedback is always appreciated and keeps this writer motivated. <3

networks; @ficscafe, @thebtswritersclub, @kflixnet

Aunt flow has arrived and it’s kicking your ass.

All you want to do is curl up with a heating pad and eat your sorrows away. The only problem? What you were craving for, you no longer had, having forgot to go grocery shopping this week due to your boyfriend’s hectic schedule.

Said boyfriend was currently doing a vlive in his office, while you were cocooned in a heap of blankets on your shared bed. A new kdrama was on in the background as you tried desperately to just sleep off the day, hoping the cramps and intense burning you felt in your abdomen would ease up by morning.

Your stomach grumbling was telling you otherwise, reminding you of just how little you’ve ate today. The feeling only making you crave your favorite period foods even more, but you knew that there was no way you were going to get up right now to go to the store. That left only one option — Jungkook.

Glancing at your phone, you saw he had about 40 minutes left of the vlive before he normally cuts it off for the night. However, you didn’t know if you could wait that long. In fact, you knew you couldn’t wait that long. Especially when you were starting to get a headache from not eating enough.

Picking up your phone, you opened your messages with Jungkook and began typing.

Koooooooooooooo

Baaaaaaaaaby

Can you do me a favor, please? 🥺

Jungkook was in the middle of answering various questions, getting lost in the stories that would come up due to them, when his phone that was laying to the side off camera lit up with notifications from you. He unlocked his phone to read them, while still trying to speak to ARMY. He typed out his response quickly, before setting his phone back down, but left it unlocked on your conversation to make it easier for him to read and reply back to you.

Kookie 🐰: Hey baby. I’m still doing my vlive rn, can it wait until I’m done?

You groaned in frustration at his answer, knowing that’s what he would say. When a new wave of pain ran through your stomach, you clutched it with your arms and assumed the fetal position for a moment until it passed, whimpering quietly. Once it did, you came to the conclusion that no, it couldn’t wait. You were going to feel terrible at cutting his time with ARMY short, but you’re more than willing to explain on his behalf why it had to happen, even if it meant exposing your womanly woes for the entirety of the world.

Typing out an ultimatum, you knew it was the only way that he would listen. Pressing send, you waited.

Noooo. I need you to go to the store and get my favorite foods, please. And some more medicine and tampons. I’m dying over here, I won’t be able to make it to the store myself. 😭

If you go right now, I’ll let you play with my boobs.

He was taking a swig of his drink, when he read your next texts. His eyes widened as he choked on the liquid that was already halfway down his throat. Hitting his chest, he cleared his throat, then smiled at the camera and reassured ARMY he was fine. Biting his lip at your offer, he pondered ending the vlive early. Sitting sideways away from the camera, he smirked to himself and sent you another text back.

Kookie 🐰: Your offer is very tempting. How about this? I’ll end the vlive right now, if you send me a pic of your boobs. <3

You scoffed to yourself at his response. That cheeky little bastard. If this was how he was going to play, then so be it. You were always up for a challenge. Rather than just send him a pic, you decided to go all out and do something that would make sure you’d win this battle.

Untangling yourself from your cacophony of blankets, your bare feet hit the cool flooring and you let out a hiss. Slowly standing up, you crept your way slowly out of your bedroom and down the hallway towards his office. His door was halfway open, incase you needed to yell at him for some kind of emergency. He was considerate like that, and he trusted you would be quiet otherwise.

When you peeked through the crack of the door, you saw him softly singing one of their songs that you’re positive ARMY requested him to sing. You closed your eyes momentarily to bask in the moment and savor the ethereal sound of your boyfriend’s voice.

Snapping out of it, you got a text ready to send by a press of your thumb. But before you hit send, you made sure to be poised and ready. Grabbing the hem of the bottom of your shirt, you lifted it up and over your chest with one hand, effectively exposing your boobs — hardened nipples from the cold and excitement of the semi exhibitionism and all — then pressed send and waited until he looked down at his phone before you gently pushed the door that was hidden off camera far enough for him to see you clearly.

Look at the door, baby. 🙃

Lost in the song, he didn’t notice his office door swing open, didn’t even bother to look until his eyes flickered to his phone and his brows furrowed in confusion. Finishing the last note in time, he took the opportunity to glance out of his peripheral towards the door.

His entire body tensed up at the way you were posed, just casually leaning against the doorway, the action squishing your boobs together as your arm pushed into one, making you look even more erotic. You bit your lip seductively, and smirked at him. Then you raised your phone up and silently told him to check it again, having sent another text shortly after the first one he didn’t notice yet.

Gulping harshly, his Adam’s apple bobbed. ARMY was none the wiser as to what was happening, only seeing as Jungkook kept himself looking normal for the camera, though his entire body was reacting to your curvy figure in the doorway, waiting for him.

Gaining the strength, he collected himself enough to look at your text. He couldn’t help the low whine that escaped from his closed, pursed lips.

You have one minute to shut it down, or I won’t give you a boob job before you leave for the store. The choice is yours, baby.

With a final wink at him, once he looked at you again, you gave him the peace sign and dropped your shirt. The action making him pout on screen, his eyes still trained on you off camera, as he watched your underwear clad ass bounce lightly as you walked away.

He loved ARMY, but he was still a guy. And he wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity you presented for him, especially when he knows sex is off limits during ‘hell week’ as he liked to call it.

Looking genuinely apologetic, he came up with an excuse to end early, promising to hold another vlive soon that would be longer than they already are now. Holding his hands in a prayer sign, he bowed as best he could while sitting down and gave a big, bunny toothed smile. Reaching off camera, he ended the vlive. Not even bothering to fully shut down the computer, he was bolting out of his office and down the hall into the bedroom.

Standing in the opened doorway, his jaw dropped, saliva pooling at his lips and threatening to fall at the sight laid out before him — you. If he thought you looked erotic before, you were absolutely sinful now. He took slow steps towards the bed, discarding his clothes randomly throughout the room, until he was left in nothing but his boxers. The bed dipped as his toned arms flexed deliciously to bring himself further up the bed until he was hovering over your now fully nude body, a large towel placed underneath your bottom in preparation of what’s to come. His knees parted your thighs as he settled himself between you, half sitting and half hovering over you.

“You’re a minx, you know that?” His head ducked down to capture your bottom lip between his teeth as he nipped at it lightly. You smacked his chest playfully, but kept your expression innocent. Trailing your hand down his toned chest that grew taught in reflex, you grabbed the hem of his boxers, only to pull it and abruptly let it go, hearing the ‘snap’ as it hit back against his hips. The slight pain only emphasized what was not so hidden and straining against his tight boxers.

“But you love it, baby. Don’t you?” He swears, you have the face and the body of an angel, but your tone of voice was laced with nothing but sin as you playfully teased him.

“Why is there a towel?” His brow raised in question, knowing it only meant one thing, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up if it’s not what you intended it for. “I thought I was only getting a boob job?”

Now sitting on the balls of his feet, no longer hovering over you, he did what he’s been wanting to do since he first saw you flash him. Taking a handful of your perfectly sized boobs, he gently massaged them, squeezing them at random intervals.

“You still are, but I recently read online that having sex actually helps lessen the pain of cramps. When you have an orgasm, the muscles of your uterus also contract. Then they release. That release should bring some relief from period cramps. Sex also triggers the release of chemicals called endorphins, which make you feel good. And right now? I need you to help me feel good. Can you do that for me, koo?”

Throughout your explanation, he switched his attention to your nipples, rolling the buds between his fingers. Leaning down, he gave open mouthed kisses around your boobs as he gave his response.

“Anything for you, baby girl. I’d want nothing more than to help ease your pain. I’m just glad I can help you through it at all. I’ve always felt helpless otherwise.” He admitted sincerely on your bare skin.

You ran your hands through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp as you did so, the way you know he likes it. You smiled softly at his response, your entire body filling with a whole other kind of warmth, other than being turned on. It made your heart happy knowing how he only ever had your best interests at heart, always wanting to help you in the best way he can, even now, in moments like this. How did you get so lucky? You’ll never know.

Feet coming up to his ass, you used your toes in an attempt to shimmy down his boxers, the action only causing a deep rumble in your boyfriend’s chest in the form of a laugh. You pouted at him with wide eyes as he paused his onslaught on your boobs to stare at your face, nothing but pure need and desperation is what looked back at him.

Understanding that right now, as much as he fucking loved your boobs, you needed to be top priority. Sitting back up on the balls of his feet, he made quick work or ridding himself of his boxers. A loud sigh of content came from his mouth as his erection sprung free, long and proud.

He was beautiful. He was perfection. He was yours.

Making grabby hands at him, he smiled softly and complied. Scooting himself up by his knees, his arms came to rest on the pillow on either side of your head. His open mouth hovered over yours as he asked you the one question he always did before penetration.

“Are you ready?” His eyes searched yours for any hesitation, any doubt in continuing. If he had to, he would stop and respect your wishes, no matter how much he wanted to do otherwise. To him, consent was important. Just because you two have been together for years now, and have had sex countless times, he always made sure to get your permission, knowing that it was a privilege to be able to make love to you, not something guaranteed.

“I’m ready, koo. Please.” Your lips graced his at your reply, that had him kissing you so delicately as if you would break at any moment. You deepened the kiss with a slight tilt of your head, pushing up on your elbows to press your chest again his. He moaned into your mouth, and you swallowed it wholeheartedly. Tongues fought for dominance, as he trailed a hand down your stomach and expertly found your bundle of nerves.

Your hips immediately rose up at the contact, and he had to gently press your hips back down into the bed with his own to continue his ministrations. The only beauty of being on your period and having sex, is it doesn’t take as long to reach your first orgasm of the night. It ripples through you in pleasurable waves, and he doesn’t let up on his assault until you reach down between your bodies in order to grip his wrist and push it away from you yourself.

As your body convulsed underneath him, he placed open mouth kisses along the side of your neck, waiting for you to come down from your high before continuing further. Just with that one orgasm alone, you could already tell the difference between how your stomach felt before and now, the cramps having lessened significantly.

“More, koo. More.” You whined breathlessly with half lidded eyes, grasping the sides of his face with your hands to bring his head up and lock his gaze with yours.

Placing a kiss on your forehead, his silent way of saying ‘okay’, he pushes himself back up to hover above your body with one hand, arm straining from the added weight. The other that was still caught between your bodies, now grabs his length to line it up perfectly with your glistening hole. Walls clenching around nothing, you started to get impatient with how slow he was going.

“Jungkook, I swear to all that is holy, if you do not—,” with one snap of his hips, he sheathed himself fully inside of you, cutting your words off as you let out a loud moan at the feeling of being so incredibly full. Pulling back out until the tip only remained, he gave another deep stroke that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head, mouth parted in an ‘o’ shape.

“Fuck–yes, koo. Just like that, baby.” You praised him in a gentle, yet sultry tone. One that had him swelling with pride, and restraining himself to keep with the pace and long strokes that seemed to do the trick for you. He sat back up, hands gripping onto your love handles, his deep strokes somehow hitting deeper with the new position. Your hands found purpose in stroking his abs with your fingertips that were tight and prominent with each thrust of his hips into yours.

His eyes were fixated on your boobs that bounced up and down, something you noticed and decided to give him a show. Grabbing both of your boobs, you squished them together, and pushed them up.

“God, you’re fucking perfect.” Now it was him praising you, his words only helping spur your impending second orgasm, as he chased his first. His thrusts still kept the same pace, but it wasn’t until you let go of your boobs to grab his hands and place them securely on top of your breasts, making him squeeze them harshly, did his pace change.

You were nothing but a blubbering mess underneath him, your wanton moans getting louder as you got closer to your release. He could feel the way your walls clenched around him, feel the way your boobs molded into his hands, hear the lewd sounds that came from both your arousal and being on your period, and it was more than enough for him to snap his hips into yours a few more times before stilling completely. You could feel him twitch inside you as he released, your own orgasm clenching him tightly and milking him for all that he’s worth.

Once he was finished, he kissed your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, and finally ended on your awaiting, puckered lips. It was a little ritual he always did after you were done. With a lazy, content, smile you gripped the sides of his face with your hands and rubbed his cheeks with your thumbs.

“That was incredible. I feel so much better. Thank you, koo.”

“No, thank you.”

“I’m too tired to top you right now, but I can still give you a boob job?” You offered him with a sleepy smile, feeling bad that he only had one orgasm over your two. Food being long forgotten after your tiring antics.

“It’s okay, baby girl. It can wait until tomorrow. Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah? Then you can sleep.” Your eyes were already beginning to close as he answered you. Your sleepy, content form, only made him laugh quietly to himself as he slowly and carefully pulled out and sat back up.

Thankfully, there wasn’t much mess to clean up. He used the towel that was laid underneath you to first wipe you, then took care of himself before shuffling off the bed to stand back up. He threw the towel in the dirty clothes hamper that sat in the corner of the room, and began searching for your underwear that was somewhere on the floor. Finding them, he bent to pick them up along with his own boxers that landed close, yanking them on.

Sitting next to your feet on the bed, he slipped your feet through the holes and swiftly slid up your underwear. He made sure to check if the pad you wore was still clean beforehand, which it was, before your underwear were once again secure on your lower half of your body.

He walked to his dresser and pulled out two clean shirts, a plain black one for him, and your favorite of his that you always liked to steal and wear because it was loose and comfy. Tugging his own shirt on, he opted to go to bed without sweats on and just his boxers, his body still cooling off from the strenuous workout he just had with you.

Walking back up to your half asleep form, he set the shirt you were going to wear on the bed next to you. Lightly shaking your shoulder so as not to startle you, he spoke softly.

“Y/N? Baby? Can I put this shirt on you? It’s your favorite~,” he quietly sung, coaxing you to sit up enough for him to slide it over your head and successfully getting your arms through the holes, before he laid you back down. Grabbing onto the blankets that got shoved towards the end of the bed, he pulled them up until they lay just below your chin. Reflexively, you snuggled into the blankets with now closed eyes, a quiet exhale emitting from your slightly parted lips as you fell asleep.

Tucking your hair behind your ear, he gazed at your sleeping form with nothing but pure, unadulterated, unconditional, love. Giving you one last forehead kiss, he turned off the lights and made his way to the opposite side of the bed — his side.

Lifting the covers, he carefully slid underneath them to lay sideways close to your body, making sure not to jostle the bed too much and awaken you from your peaceful slumber. Throwing an arm over your figure, his hand went to lay on top of your stomach as he rubbed soothing circles until his own eyes began closing from his own exhaustion creeping in.

Before he fully succumbed, he made a promise to himself to get up early enough in the morning to go to the store and get you everything you asked for so you can have it when you woke up.

A tired, husky, barely audible ‘I love you’ slipped past his lips, and he was out.

#jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #bangtan boys #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan family #bangtan #bts fic #bts army #bts fluff #bts smut #vlive #kpop vlive #jungkook vlive

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elly99 · 10 months

Text

Cool With You

Contains swearing and revolves around anxiety.

Kim Minji for Vogue Korea. She glowed through your screen, as she did in real life, in stark contrast to the shadows rippling on your walls as you scrolled through the article. Her new song was on repeat. Quiet, but enough to fill the emptiness of the room. She was beautiful, you thought.

"My grandma always asks if I'm having a hard time and if I'm having fun. I didn't think much of it before. It just seemed like a normal way to ask how I was doing. But now, whenever I hear it, I reflect on myself a little more and my heart warms up, too. So I also try to ask the important people in my life the same thing. 'Have you been having a hard time? Are you happy?'"

You hear the words in her voice. She was so sweet, you thought.

Then the end of the song. A brief moment of complete silence before it repeats. A brief window for another voice to cut through.

Have you been having a hard time? Are you happy?

Your own. In your head.

Yes, you are having a hard time. You haven't been happy in months.

"Not again! I was just reading a fucking interview! What the fuck is wrong?"

If you're so important to her, why hasn't she asked you the same thing?

"Just stop. Just stop."

You're losing it. I know you are. I know you.

The song starts back up. It goes, "You know me like no other," but you didn't know who was talking anymore.

"No, I'm fine! I'm fine. I swear I'm..."

Suddenly the darkness of your room felt suffocating. You stand up quickly to turn on the light. But when you do the clarity is equally uncomfortable. All your insecurities, your fears, your worries in plain sight. You just want to hide. Turn off the light again. Sit back down.

"Ok, this is fine! I know how to deal with this. Just breathe slowly. Deep breaths through the nose. And count. One. Two."

Three. Four. Five. All this counting but when will you get your life together?

"Three. F-f-our..."

You try to get the words out but your lips won't cooperate. You can't feel them anymore. Just a tingling over your face. So instead you scream. In anger. Where is this coming from? Why couldn't you stop it? This didn't make sense. Stop feeling this way. This is stupid. Just be normal, you thought.

Of course it doesn't make sense. You're fucked up. You know that. Everybody does. Don't try to rationalize it because you won't be able to. You're not good enough for that.

You can't feel your legs. You can't feel your hands struggle to pick up your phone.

Wow. Are you really going to ask her to come over now? She's busy. Probably exhausted. The album is coming out tomorrow. Why the fuck would you bother her?

"Hey, babe! What's up?" The sound of her voice tethers you to the ground for a moment. Holds you close in the dark room.

"Minji, I... Hi!" You feign composure. But your chest was aching. "I-I'm good! I just wanted to hear your voice. H-How are you? Are you busy?"

"Well, I just got back from work..." she trails off. "Are you ok, baby?"

You're suddenly aware of your breath hitching. And you know she hears it, too. There was no point pretending. You needed her right now.

"Min... could you come over, please? I... can't..."

"Ok, I'm on my way." You hear her voice jump. Then her footsteps. She's running. "Baby, listen to me, ok? I'm on my way. Count down from 100 very slowly. And breathe deeply. If I'm not there yet, just count down again but I promise I'm coming. I love you."

She was so sweet, you thought, as your hands lost their grip on the phone. You smiled with tears running down your face.

"100. 99. 98. 97."

You know that's pointless right? The more techniques you use to try and stop it, the more you'll just remind yourself that you're a mess.

"96. 95. 94. 93."

Look at you go.

You clench your fists. Then your teeth. You still couldn't feel either of them.

"92. 91. 90. 89. 88."

You focus on breathing. Slowly. Lie down on the sofa and stare at the ceiling.

"59. 58. 57. I like 57."

You heard no reply. You felt calm. But you could never be too sure.

"17. 16. 15. 14."

Almost there. Where is she?

Shit. Focus. You shut your eyes and start whispering forcefully.

"She'll be here. 13. 12. 11. 10. 9. 8."

You hear your door unlock. Open your eyes and quickly stand up. A little too quickly. Your legs are still numb and you stumble. But she's there to catch you.

"I'm here, baby. I'm here. I brought our bear, too. Look!"

You look up and there she was. Your girlfriend and your bear. And the stuffed toy you both loved. She was smiling but her eyes were drowning in concern. She was so beautiful, you thought. She came all this way, carrying a huge toy, in the rain, after a very busy and tiring day, just for you. She was so sweet. She was so good to you.

She's too good to you. She's too good for you. You don't deserve this. You're not beautiful like her. You're not kind like her. You'll wear her out.

You couldn't take it anymore. You burst into tears in her arms. Breathing short and shallow.

She wraps one arm around you to pat your back and uses her other hand to pull your head towards her, stroking your hair softly.

"Baby, it's ok! I'm here now. I'm here. You're going to be ok."

You feel the warmth of her words penetrate the chaos of your mind. But there was still so much to get through. So much you were still feeling. Still so far from the ground. You cling to her tightly in desperation.

"Just hold on to me, ok? I'll take you to the couch. Let's go. Take your time."

She lifts you slightly. Not enough to carry you but enough to aid your trembling legs. She lies down first and beckons you to stay next to her.

"Come here. Let me spoon you, baby."

You do as you're told. Anything to keep you grounded. You knew her arms were the safest place in the world.

"Let's look at the ceiling together, ok? We've done this before. Tell me five things you can see in the room."

"Well... there's the ceiling... and the walls..."

"Mmhmm..."

"The door..."

"Yeah... that's three."

"I see your hands."

"Ok. One last thing."

"But you have two hands."

You can't see her face but you could tell she was smiling. She kisses your cheek.

"One more thing, babe."

"I see... your music video still playing on my laptop."

"Great. Ok. How about four things you can feel?"

"I can feel your hands. Your breathing. Your voice when you speak. And your warmth."

"I'll always keep you warm, babe." She kisses your cheek again. "Ok, now tell me three things you can hear."

"I can hear you. I can still hear Cool With You. And the rain outside."

"Now two things you can smell."

"Umm... I can smell your perfume." You pull a bunch of her hair close to your nose. "And your shampoo."

"Do you like the scent?"

"I do. I thought you didn't usually wear perfume, though."

"I felt like it today." Another kiss on the cheek. "Ok, for the last step, I came prepared. I brought chocolate. It's my superpower after all." She takes a small bar of chocolate out of her pocket and puts it in your hand. "What's one thing you can taste?"

"I taste this magic chocolate bar made by my Powerpuff Girl. This is really good actually."

"You must be hungry, baby. Want me to order food?"

"Yes, please."

After all that you're gonna make her order food?

You flinch. She knew what that meant. She holds you tighter.

"Hey, you're ok. Nothing to worry about. Just your girlfriend buying her favorite bunny some dinner."

She holds her phone in front of both of you. "What do you wanna eat, bunny?"

Even making simple decisions was hard. You flinch again. She holds you steady.

"Ok, ok. I'll choose for you." A kiss on the other cheek. "Done."

You feel yourself melting into her. Her warm embrace calming the storm in your mind just a little.

"Minji... thank you so much for this. For everything. For just being you. I don't know what I'd do without you..."

"Anything for you, baby. You know I love you, right?"

"I do. It's just I... Sometimes I don't believe it. Like, I'm just..."

She sits up and turns you towards her.

"Shhh. I know what you're going to say. Don't let that part of you even have a voice, babe. It doesn't deserve any space in your beautiful brain. We need to shut it out. Whenever it gets in the way, just listen to my voice. And even when I'm not around, I'm right here in your heart. Remember my words. You just have to listen."

"Minji..."

"And remember, when you feel that anxiety building, find where it is, grab it and throw it away. Just the act of physically trying to pull that anxiety out of your body can help. Even if it's not something you can really feel with your hands, the effect is real. You learned this, remember? You can do it. I love you so much. Ok?"

"Ok..."

She hugs you tight again.

"Let's talk about something else! Did you like Cool With You?"

The shift in her tone briefly lifts your mood.

"I loved it! It was soooo good. So cool. You're so cool, babe!"

"Aw, thanks, honey! We worked really hard on it. Glad you enjoyed!"

"You always work so hard..."

The way you trail off lets her know what you're really thinking. What you were about to say. Again she knows just what to do and cuts you off with another question.

"Are you excited for the rest?"

"Of course! I'm excited for anything you do."

"And I'm excited to share it with you! I like sharing my life with you."

Slowly she was pulling you back down. You were almost there. You begin to remember what normal conversation was like. For a while you lie in silence. Nothing but the sound of the rain and the song still on repeat on your laptop. But you can still hear faint thunder in the distance. Both outside your apartment and in your head.

"Do you mind me asking what the trigger was tonight? You know I just wanna help."

"I was just reading your Vogue interview while listening to the new song and somehow it all just came crashing down. It never really makes sense when it starts. But I was just reading how you said you wanted to ask the important people in your life if they were having a hard time and if they were happy. It just triggered a spiral of thoughts. Immediately I was reminding myself I wasn't happy."

"So... it was me?" The sadness in her voice hits hard.

"No, no! Of course not, baby. It's all me. My biggest insecurity is that I'm just this ugly, unhappy person just dragging you down. Like, why can't I be happy like you? Why don't I have my life together the way you do? I can't help but compare cuz you're just so amazing and out of this world to me. And that's not on you. That's just something I have to work out myself."

"Hey, no..." She tries to stop you but it all comes rushing out.

"And you're so pretty. You're so sweet. You're so talented and successful. Like, there's literally nothing to fault about you. You just feel so perfect and I just feel so inadequate next to you. That's why sometimes my brain gets in the way and doesn't believe that you could love me."

You notice tears start to form in her eyes.

"I really hate when you talk like that about yourself. It hurts. Cuz you'd never talk like that about me. Or anyone else for that matter. Why be so hurtful to yourself..."

"I know, baby. I just can't help it..."

"No. You can help it." Her voice was firm now. "We'll work on it together. Do it for yourself. And for me, too. Because it hurts when you refuse to see why I love you and why there's so much to love about you."

"I know you love me. It's just that I get so scared all the time that you'll get sick of me or I'll just drag you down because I've been a mess lately. I want to be good enough for you but faking confidence or pretending I'm ok doesn't really work."

"But you are good enough! I know you haven't been well lately but you've always gone above and beyond for me. The word inadequate shouldn't even be in the same universe as you. And it's ok to be a mess! It's ok to not know where you're going yet. I just found my career very young but that has nothing to do with how good you are and how successful you can be. We may have different paths but that's ok! We're in this together. I'm with you to the end, ok?"

You knew she was right. But it was just so hard. As you nod weakly in agreement, she pulls you in for another hug. She speaks more slowly now. Gentle and caring. You feel her voice reverberate in your chest.

"I'm so excited for your future. You may not see it yourself but I know you're gonna be amazing. Because you are amazing. You just need to trust yourself, baby. The real you. The one who knows all the reasons you're wonderful and why I love you. Do you want me to remind you?"

She pulls away with a smile on her face. Her smile that could outshine a thousand galaxies. Her smile that could comfort you a million times over.

"Actually, you have no choice. I'm going to remind you. Let me spoon you again."

You eagerly oblige, falling quickly into the safety of her embrace.

"Close your eyes and just listen to my voice, ok? So, do you remember when you first came to Korea? When we first became friends and you learned Korean in a year just for me?"

"Yeah."

"What does that say about you?"

"I don't know..."

"You do know. It means you're smart, hardworking and dedicated. And a sweetheart. Now you say it to yourself."

"I... um... what do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. Say it to yourself like you're complimenting a friend."

"I'm smart, hardworking and dedicated."

"Don't forget the last part."

"And I'm a sweetheart," you say, blushing.

"Yes, you are! Now remember when you started having a hard time and you reached out for help? You went to therapy and shared with me everything you learned there and what you talked about? You were at your most vulnerable and you still shared everything with me. That takes strength and courage."

"I have strength and courage." You pause. "This sounds cheesy."

"No, you're doing a great job, babe. Just keep going. Ok, now, remember when I was a trainee, whenever I'd have super long days, you'd come over to my place just to drop off some coffee or my favorite ice cream? What does that say about you?"

"I'm thoughtful and caring," you say, smiling this time.

"Good! You did it without me telling you. That's your confidence building! And do you remember all the gifts you got for me, my members and my family? There's too many to count."

"Does that mean I'm kind and generous? This feels weird. This just feels like I'm showing off."

"But who are you talking to?"

"You."

"No, you're talking to yourself. I've heard you give all these compliments to me before. And many more. Now you're just complimenting yourself. And it's not like you're lying to yourself. You know everything is true. You just need to be confident and admit it to yourself out loud. Take care of yourself like you take care of me all the time, ok? Be kind to yourself like you're kind to everyone around you. You need to be your friend, too."

"I'll try. But doesn't it sound like showing off? Like I'm too proud of myself?"

"You're just reassuring a friend! Telling them all the ways they're worth loving. It's not like you're going around telling everyone how good you are."

"Is this how you're always so confident, babe?"

"I guess!"

"You're incredible."

"So are you! Incredibly cute I might add."

You're blushing again. In the dark she couldn't see it clearly, but she knew you well enough to know that you were. Somewhere in the room the song repeats again.

"Do you feel cool with me, baby?"

"I really do, Min. You really do know me like no other. The way you helped me tonight - it's like you could read my mind. It's just like you said. 'What's the best?'"

"너의 옆에 내가 있을 때."

"Exactly. When you're here with me I feel safe."

You open your eyes. Saying those words out loud was the last thing you needed. You landed. She brought you all the way back. You were home. And she could tell by the way you were smiling.

"I'll always be here for you." She smiled in return. "Cuz I know you're always there for me, bro."

The first chuckle out of you that night.

"How are you feeling, baby?"

"I think I'm good, Min. Thanks again. You're the best. The best thing that's ever happened to me. I love you so fucking much."

"Then don't swear at me, bro!"

The first real laugh out of you that night. And she echoes it.

"Do you hear me, baby? Do you hear me laughing with you?"

"I do."

"You hear just me?"

"Yes. Just you."

"Do you see me? Focus on my eyes."

You turn around to look at her and see the way her eyes sparkle with encouragement. Her endearing smile pulling you out of the dark. Into the light with her.

"I see you." You smile. "But it's a bit blurry cuz I've been crying."

"That's ok! Can you feel my hands?" she asks as she gently takes both your hands in hers and caresses them slowly. "I've missed holding your hands."

"I can feel you. But my fingers are still a little tingly. And shaky."

She pulls your hands towards her and kisses both. "That's ok, too." She smiles again. "And you know, we listed reasons to love someone, but at the end of the day, love isn't a rational thing, either. The strongest love has no reason. Who knows why we fall in love? All I know is that I fell in love with you because you're you. And that'll always be reason enough for me."

#minji x reader #minji #minji new jeans #kim minji x reader #newjeans x reader

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copperbadge · 8 months

Text

I was thinking about proofing the latest novel this morning and some of the stuff I may have to shift around or alter -- I'm hoping nothing major, but it's evident from comments that I didn't do quite as much research as I should have in one or two spots.

Because this is a book that is in some aspects very much about pregnancy, while writing it and now while proofing it I've had pregnancy media on the brain, as I try to avoid the pitfalls that a lot of pregnancy arcs on sitcoms or in television dramas fall into. I tried as much as possible to put myself in the position of "If this was happening to my body, how would I feel? If this was my new cultural position, what would that be like?"

I've also been thinking a lot of a pregnancy arc from the TV series Seventh Heaven, and this has driven me to develop what I think of, humorously, as the Dziga Vertov-Seventh Heaven scale of realism. (I've taken to calling it the Vertov-Hampton scale, after producer Brenda Hampton. It sounds amusingly like a personality test, and in some ways it is.)

Dziga Vertov was one of the founders of the cinema verite movement and often combined documentary elements into his fictional work, or vice versa; I studied him in a documentary film class in college and again when I was working on my documentary theatre capstone project. Seventh Heaven, meanwhile, was one of late-90s "family" shows where you can practically chart the way it became more acceptable to be visibly evangelical right-wing in America; it portrayed a pastor and his family grappling with life's difficult questions like "How do I repent of premarital sex" and "why it's not okay for women to decide how they dress for themselves". It was one of many shows I watched during grad school because I was home a lot and only had network television, and I had a horrified fascination with it.

There's a pregnancy arc late in the series where the mother-to-be ends up going into labor while stuck in an elevator. That's tropey, but it's also tried-and-true (White Collar did a similar plot, for fuck's sake). It did give me pause that for the entire sequence of her giving birth in the elevator, she had all of her clothes on, including her shoes and a conveniently draped skirt. Still, you know, it's network television, there are sponsors and censors and such who get involved...

And then, after the big suspenseful "Push! Push!" and the cut to commercial, we return to them finally getting the door of the elevator open from the outside...

And the woman who was giving birth five minutes ago appears in the doorway, still completely dressed, not a speck of bodily fluid on her, and walks out of the elevator carrying her newborn. Like she just picked it up from the customer service desk. It's fucking bonkers. And it was such a definingly stupid moment of television that it cemented Seventh Heaven for me forever as the most ridiculous thing I'm ever likely to watch.

Anyway all of this is to say that while I try to stay as far towards Dziga Vertov as possible, I do sometimes drift towards Seventh Heaven, but I do my best to stop myself before I hit "Walking out of an elevator after giving birth" levels of absurdity.

And I remind myself that however implausible I think my storytelling is, it'll never be Seventh Heaven level bad.

#writing #storytelling technique #the vertov-hampton scale

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pinpinneon · 5 months

Text

I composed an original song for Inv/Enot!

Just in time for christmas day, heck yeah!

Safe to say, this is by far THE most extensive solo project I've ever worked on! The song took over 30 hours to compose, and the visual assets for the video took me another 55 hours or so.

Add the video editing time into it, and the result is about 90 hours of worktime! This is a HUGE personal milestone for me, and I'm super proud of tackling it all by myself!

Even if it's not that impressive compared to other music videos that have much more professional editing and stuff, I consider this a huge step forward for me as someone who's practicing arts!

[LYRICS]

Ah, the sting of being rejected

Familiar, but always hurt

Brandishing a weak grin, I let myself sinned

Lying to my heart yet again

Ah, there I went yet again

Making a fool of myself

On the outside I smiled, a facade of guile

(But inside...)

Another day, another chance

Another fail that would haunt my mind tonight

Another try to hold back these tears of mine from falling

Seasons passed, everyone kept changing

Yet as they moved on to spring I lingered in this winter

Because I couldn't find the fabled sunlight that everyone else could see

Undeterred, I put on the mask

Played the goofy clown whenever someone glanced at me that day

Because a romantic like me could only dream of being beloved

Gray skies looming above my head

Even while I was indoors

And they never stopped engulfing me in

Their constant downpours and thunders

I laughed to fruitlessly deflect

Levity faked and unseen

Laying in my bed, a tear had been shed

(Did they even care...?)

Another dawn, another sigh

Another smile that did not quite reach my eyes

Another lie that I told myself to hang onto

Seasons passed, from spring to summer

Yet as the sun rose its light did not shine its warmth on me

Because it couldn't see my pitiful presence underneath the shadows

Autumn came, bringing gentle breezes

And I watched the leaves fluttering in the wind without an end

No set destination, no direction at all

(It made me...!)

Sitting there, contemplating thoughts of things that weren't meant to be

Wishing to escape this prison of desires

Reminiscing of the past

Losing myself in this maze filled with nostalgia

But before I could be driven past the point of no return

Something reminded me of the spark of life

Within my soul that revealed the path I once walked

The same one that I had grown too blind to see

Seasons passed, it's winter again

But unlike last time, a warmth in my heart kept me going

For once the sight of snow did not invoke dark thoughts born of loneliness

Gazing at the stars in the sky

Often made me cry, yet tonight I just sat there and smiled

Admiring the beauties, as something within me had changed

Seasons passed, everyone kept changing

And as they moved on to spring I merely followed along

No more being bound by chains, knowing that all my friends were waiting for me

Undeterred, I let myself go

Embracing the part of me that just wanted to be healed

So that someday I could have another attempt at being...

A Romantic~!

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dukestewart · 1 year

Note

I actually have a question, I'm wanting to start a webcomic at some point in the future myself, do you have any recommendations or advice for me?

Okay, I have a million things to say on the subject but to save you a lot of scrolling I’ll cut it down to the main things I wish I knew when starting my webcomic.

Don’t overprepare

It’s easy to fall into the trap of perfecting your art style or developing your character arcs before you actually, like, make the thing. The truth is you get diminishing returns on the pre-production phase, and too much planning will just waste your time. I once wrote an entire script and sketched out 200 pages for a graphic novel version of my webcomic Roundhouse, 90% of which is now redundant or contradictory. Probably took me hundreds of hours. Whoops. Make a basic plot line and some concept pictures by all means, you gotta start with something, but you’ll be much more motivated to make the comic when you’re already making it.

Collect references

This might sound kind of contradictory to my previous advice but bear with me. It’s important to prioritise creation over planning but gathering a compendium of your favourite artworks and writing techniques will save you time in the long run. If I’m ever stuck on how to draw a certain expression for example I know I have a folder full of expertly drawn faces to remind me how nostrils work. Personally I keep separate reference folders for colour, anatomy and character designs. Fantastic cure for artist’s block, swear by it.

Get someone to proofread

You have no idea how important it is to get a second opinion. No one in the history of media has ever been better off without a different pair of eyes to catch a mistake. They’ll see the obvious things you missed, a typo, a pacing issue, a joke that makes no sense… if you’re embarrassed to show it to anyone in your life then get an internet friend to have a look. Hell, I’ll have a look. Send me a message, I’m easy.

Even the most talented creators struggle to be seen

A good comic will always have a better chance of success than a crap one but that’s only a part of the equation. We’re forgetting our two troublesome neighbours, Monsieur Marketing and Lady Luck. It stinks, but we operate in an algorithm-based economy, and getting things out there takes a lot of hard research. I hate the marketing side of things, personally. I’d much rather make a page every week and not care whether it’s seen or not but such is the nature of capitalism that I have to try and monetise my work any way I can. Knowing someone in the business can’t hurt either.

Look, I’ll never be able to condense everything I know about webcomics in a single post so consider this my declaration to give advice to anyone who asks for it. Got a specific question about comics? Message me.

#webcomic #webcomic tips #webcomics #webcomic advice #I should probably make a tag for these text posts

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ellieromanov · 7 months

Text

Vanilla, Pine, or cinnamon

Pairings: r x Natasha

Warnings: angst

Word count: 700

Summary: it’s been years since Natasha has made the sacrifice and memories only linger for so long before you start to forget.

I think I miss her more than I remember her. That terrifies me. I don't really remember what she looks like anymore... I know she had red hair and she had green eyes, but I don't remember the shape of her nose, or the color of her lips.

I don't remember what her laugh sounds like or the pitch of her voice, or you know... like the little phrases she would say. I can't remember what she smells like. I want to say vanilla but maybe she smelt more like pine or maybe cinnamon.

I kept all her clothes. I never wanted to wash them because I was afraid it would get rid of her smell so they would just sit in my closet. Sometimes I'd pull out one of her old sweaters and and I'd sleep with it on my pillow just so I could pretend like she was there.

Like it was just one of those gloomy days where we wouldn't get out a bed for ages because the comforter was just so warm and the mattress felt just right and the position of the pillows were perfect. And we'd watch old cheesy 90's movies all day long...

I don't do that anymore because her sweaters lost her sent from all the dust they've collected.

It feels like it's been an eternity since she was last here...

There was something my dad would always say to me and my siblings as kids and it went something like;

"you do not know time until you know how to dance. You don't know time until you know how to paint, compose music and have read Shakespeare. Once you know how to do those things only then can you complain about time."

I think about those words often. Since Nat has been gone I fill my days reading the tragedy's of Shakespeare, sitting at the piano, putting on my old ballet pointés, and most recently, painting.

I've been trying to remember her enough to put her on the canvas. I can't seem to get the correct shade of red for her hair, and I've had to repaint her her nose several times.

But I do remember how much Natasha loved the night sky. All the stars just seemed like magic to her. She also loved... daisies? Or were they tulips? I think they were daisies. So I've painted a field of daisies underneath the night sky with Natasha in the middle of the field.

But no matter how many pictures I have of her to use as a reference, they never captured what she really looked like. They never captured that gorgeous smile she had or the freckles on her nose, or the scars that littered her cheek or the depths of green in her eyes. These are all small things that I remember vaguely.

People don't often visit anymore. Clint and Laura stop by once every few months and Yelena once or twice a year maybe. I haven't heard much from anyone on the team since the funeral besides Peter. He's a good kid. Sends me a message once every few weeks to update me on he's life and he always asks how I'm doing. He keeps me up to date on the outside world.

I so often wish that I could go back to that day and trade places with her. I dream about it sometimes. They are the most vivid dreams I have. When I dream, I get to hear her voice again. But the longer I think about it the more I realize that it's better this way. Deep down, I know that. I know it's better. Because Natasha will never have to know what it's like to lose her other half, she will never have to experience the pain and grief and suffering that comes with losing me. She will never know what it's like to to forget me. And for that I am grateful.

So as I try to fall asleep tonight I just need to remind myself, it's better this way, and one day... one day I'll be with her again. But until that day i just have to accept the fact that the comforter is never warm anymore, the mattress is like a brick and the pillows are old and torn. I will try to remember her scent so I can go find it, try to make the house feel like home again with it and restore some of that comforter but I don't know if she smelt of vanilla, pine, or cinnamon .

#natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanov #natasha x you #natasha romanoff #angst #black widow #black widow angst #y/n #natasha x y/n #mcu x reader #mcu #mcu angst #marvel #marvel angst

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lokisgoodgirl · 4 months

Note

hi babe <33

let me tell you a very funny (slightly embarrassing) story that happened last week!!

so i was helping the english department at my school clean out their big and very outdated literature study books bc im best friends with all of them duh

anyway . im casually oohing and aahing at every book i see and stealing whatever poetry book i can find that they dont want anymore

until i come across this small pocketsized book! its teal and the spine is cracked and from afar the big S on the cover and the teal colour makes it look like fucking. Shrek. so naturally i was like ???? A SHREK PLAY???

and so i picked it up bc a gal got curious!! and i look closer and it turns out to be Henry IV part 1! and bc i cant keep my big mouth shut i yelled "OH M GOD ISNT THIS THE TOM HIDDLESTON PLAY???" and the entire office went. Quiet.

And they all turned to look at me. mind you these are women who ARE in Tom's age range so they pretty much grew up with his work!!! and ofc they KNOW him its tom hiddleston. and one of them was like " the??? the tom hiddleston play??" and trying to save my dignity (not that im embarrassed but also kind of) i was like yeah ? didnt tom hiddleston play in this?? to try and keep myself casual like no what im not an obsessed fan hello im So Normal about him!! i could feel my face burst into fucking flames bc how do i explain to these women that im obsessed with his work while they look at me like they know I read fanfiction (like THEY DONT. THEY DO. I KNOW THEY DO. BC THEY ALWAYS MENTION IT.)

and so then. the entire fucking department spent the day picking up whatever stupid Shakespeare book they can find and saying really loudly IS THIS A TOM HIDDLESTON PLAY?? and i guess they ALL assume now the ONLY WAY I KNOW ANY ENGLISH LITERATURE is through Tom Hiddleston.

absolutely embarrassing. but i got to keep the book so WHATEVER.

but oh my god i think a part of my pride died that day. it was REALLY FUNNY but oh my god. no i DO know english literature i JUST HAPPEN TO KNOW THAT TOM HIDDLESTON PLAYED IN A FEW OF THEM!!! leave me ALONE.

i cannot believe i had to out myself like that. no actually i dont care but its the fact that these women KNOW the sort of stuff going on out there i am 90% sure some of them HAVE WRITTEN FANFICTION BEFORE and i had to sit there and act like i didnt just finish reading the most filthy panty melting smut of some tom hiddleston character. like hello. oh my god. it was funny but also horrifying.

anyway so now the whole department knows me by association to The Tom Hiddleston Play and a) oh my fucking god but b) cant help but giggle a little if they MUST know i AM Crazy abt him and his work idc WHAT they say (they act like they dont have friday movie nights where they watch whatever play he's got.)

anyway. the end.

This is the stuff life is made of 😆❤️ I was laughing and cringing along with you omg. So funny🤣

"IS ✨THIS✨ A TOM HIDDLESTON PLAY?!" 🤣

It sounds like they were very sweet and jokey about the whole thing. And yes, fanfiction will be no biggie to them I'd bet😂

It reminded me of when I was casually explaining to my parents why exactly my football-allergic ass was going to Soccer Aid last year with @lokischambermaid - and I fumbled and said "oh, well there's an ac-torr that she and I are fans of and so you know we're just err-"

My Mum, who I have never mentioned TH too before in my puff: "Is that Tom Hiddleston?" 🤨

Me: 😵😵"...yes"

And that was all that was said about it 🤣but she knew. She has eyes. Awkward moments are so funny in hindsight. Thank you for sharing this with me🤣

#funny mutuals #funny asks

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melonteee · 9 months

Note

Do you think ur going to do a review or analysis of the live action? Because even tho i kinda liked it i think i have the same problem that you have with the characters, like zoro. It's weird bc i think that the characterization of the characters is kinda good, but also there's something laking, i think it's the removal of some core senes but honestly idk fully if it's that or something else. I know they had short time to adapt like 90 chapters, but i think the time they had would be better used if they didn't had the b plot be abt garp. Tho that's also not right, bc i think some of the scenes with the marines were fun? But in this case i think garp characterization is just not that great.

Idk its super weird bc i feel the world is really one piece and it was fun to watch but there's some things that are kinda :/

Okay uh, let me preface this by saying part of my degree had to do with adaptation - in terms of what it is and how it's really god damn hard. So this live action intrigues me not just as a one piece fan, but in terms of my studies, and I have no doubt my favourite teacher is getting a kick out of this as we speak lol.

If you don't want spoilers for ep 1, don't read under the cut. If you don't want to feel bummed out cause you super enjoyed the show, also don't read. I am analysing this in a very critical way because I was dead interested in how this was handled.

I have only watched one episode, I can only judge so far at the moment, so feel free to take this all with a grain of salt. There is indeed charm in this series! The only thing is, there's charm when it's trying to be itself exclusively, and it falls really flat when trying to replicate One Piece because...I didn't feel One Piece from this in any sense. Any 'faithful' shots I received felt like a cheap replica attempting to force some nostalgic emotion out of me with nothing earned.

And, from what I can see, that's the problem here. This series isn't sure how loyal it should really be, nor is it sure how much fidelity it should keep - but it's trying to remind me at every damn second "This IS One Piece, do you SEE One Piece?" And it's not just me saying this, the producers themselves admitted that they were TRYING to be loyal. A quote from them is;

“What we learned is the fans are expecting you to be true to the source material,” says executive producer Marty Adelstein, whose Tomorrow Studios produced “Cowboy Bebop” for Netflix before embarking on “One Piece....As we read the comments, it was always, ‘Well, they didn’t do this character the same as this and that.’ … It really taught us a lot of what we needed to do with this one.” “It became everyone’s goal to make sure that when you looked at the show, you thought this was a live-action version of the manga that just felt like another feather in the legacy of Oda,” (source)

So here's my question here, to myself and One Piece fans - did you FEEL like you were watching a 1:1 version of these characters? Did these characters FEEL like themselves instead of being TOLD they're apparently themselves?

Of course, it's an adaptation! It's supposed to be different! But this statement directly contradicts that, and so does everything else. After all they apparently hired Oda to 'check off' on it, they used the Japanese VAs for the Japanese audio version of it, they even have the manga/anime version of Luffy sitting there in the One Piece logo - constantly reminding me OF the original no matter what I do.

So with all these comments, and with all these decisions, what else to expect but "Oh, so they're planning to stay loyal and not deviate from the original? This is clearly their goal."

And that's where the problem ensues for me, because they try DESPERATELY to ham fist in original source material, they really want me to point at the screen and go "JUST LIKE THE MANGA!", but they're not going all in on it and, as such, the changes become increasingly obvious that this ISN'T the same. Because, if you only have a BIT of Zoro's character implemented from the original, but not ALL of it, what else am I to see but a bastardised version of the original here?

This script does this thing where it's giving me beats of Zoro, but not all of Zoro, and suddenly I'm left with a guy who's a weird, bizarro version of Zoro. He's not quite original enough to feel like his own being, and he's not quite loyal enough to feel like the original. And of course, it's not just Zoro, but it's this way for the other characters too.

The 'loyalty' the producers are talking about, and the lesson they've seem to have learnt here is; "We need to unnaturally shove in as much fidelity as we can in an exposition-dump, so we can get it out of the way, make everyone feel like we're respecting the source, and get on to the original scenes that add nothing but a laugh."

And...it's a shame! It's weird to say this series would, so far, be better if they weren't TRYING to replicate One Piece's energy, but from everything I am seeing, it's clearly what they are trying to do. This show has charm when it has its OWN charm, but cutting from a fun little original scene to an exposition dump of lore is so incredibly jarring I don't even really know what to make of it.

For example, we were shown Zoro being tied up to a pole. We are going to point at it and go "I remember that!" but then...the whole reasoning is different, the motives are different, and...the time is all different? In all respect, this series is doing what Disney live actions are doing, where they are giving me MORE scenes with LESS information - and due to seemingly TRYING to be loyal, it feels like the original scenes are fun, but a waste of time due to the exposition dumps being incredibly rushed and lacklustre.

In a complete ironic twist, their desperation to be loyal has them falling flat, so instead I'm seeing a hollow replica of what One Piece is - when it could've been an original live action that's trying to work on its strengths of BEING its own live action.

All in all, the first ep would've been fine if I turned my brain off, but I don't...watch One Piece to do that. I don't ever feel numbed by One Piece, and by all means I was given the expectation that this WOULD be the story RETOLD but with BIGGER action and LARGER characters because they just LOVE Oda and respect him SO MUCH!

But at the end of the day, for a first impression, I got another Netflix live action that COULD work on itself, but ultimately is making me appreciate the original a lot more. It's making me appreciate Oda's writing more, the Strawhat's original characters more, and the world more. It seems great as a digestible family show, which I'm sure is what Netflix wanted, but it's already got me feeling uneasy.

Of course, this could very well change the more I get through, and I'm very open to it, but the first episode in itself makes for a fascinating case study on the fidelity of anime live action adaptations.

And just in case anyone gets up in arms because there seems to be a weird forced positivity crusade on this series right now, Oda himself has said he intends to happily take criticism, because he knows it'll come from a place of love. This by no means is a disrespect to Oda, and is more a look in on how Netflix operates.

#ask #long post #i will tag this under #melon speaks #this is a brutally honest review of what the first ep alone has given me so like #if you don't WANT to see criticism of the series just don't read this please lmao #opla spoilers

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loserlvrss · 5 months

Text

꒰ 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐀 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 ꒱ 김정수

summary : pool day with your boyfriend and his band

genre : fluff, jungsu x afab!reader, comedy, drabble, oneshot tws : language, skinship, kiss author notes : sigh it was pouring rain when i was writing this — anyways, happy new years 𓆤 word count : 1.2k

the sun was sweltering, the heat actually getting to your head and making it feel fuzzy. you felt an incredible amount of relaxation, that bordered laziness, as the harsh rays warmed your skin. you could hear the distant splashing of water against the familiar voices of your friends; jooyeon making a fuss because jiseok had just splashed him so hard that his nose was now stinging.

your boyfriend had dragged you out of your air-conditioned apartment a couple of hours ago, seconds after he had accepted the offer to go swimming over text… for the both of you.

you knew the heatwave was bad, but after not going outside for what seemed like days — saved for the couple of times to water your balcony plants, which you ended up taking in anyways — you thought you could melt into a puddle right on the chair where you reclined. plus, you've applied so much sunscreen you were convinced your blood was being diluted with it; drank so much water your 73% was closer to 90%. however, you knew it was bad when you would just sweat it all out, skin damp like you've already taken a dip into the pool with them.

you had adamantly pleaded for him to cancel on them, to stay and finish money heist with you (for the nth time). you didn't want to risk sun-sickness for either you or him, who you kept reminding to drink more and more water — though sometimes he was so caught up in playing around that he didn't even interpret what you were saying — so you mothered them all, telling them to take hydration breaks as a fun group activity.

“y/n! come in.” the youngest, jooyeon, had shouted in between taking sips from a water bottle.

your boyfriend beckoned you over with full-support from his friends, “c’mon! it’s cooler in the water.”

“jungsu… you know i don’t really like the water.”

and he nodded because he knew that, almost like he knew pretty-much everything about you — you wouldn’t be surprised if he knew the way your bones were shaped at this point.

“junhan! act cute, you know she can’t resist you.” jiseok yelled, surprising the guitarist so much so that he choked slightly, “please!”

gunil laughed, sitting at the edge of the pool and watching the chaos of the younger boys trying to get junhan to make you play with them.

eventually, junhan put his fingers to the back of his head, creating cute ears. he put on a smile that instantly made you mirror it, “please?”

you sighed, a smile breaking across your boyfriends face as he knew you’d been won over. “used your secret weapon already? know i won’t fall for it twice, boys.”

before you had a chance to get from the chair, jooyeon was running over, cheers erupting from the group. with the help of seungmin and jiseok, the three had gotten you up and were now pushing you toward the edge of the pool.

you fought back, to no avail, eventually faced with the crystal clear liquid that you’d sooner than later become accustomed to.

“jungsu, throw her in!”

“what?” you all but shrieked, “no, no, no, no! please don’t do that — what if i couldn’t swim? you’d let me drown?”

“in a four foot pool?” gunil asked, “you’re short but not that short.”

jungsu had begun to fling your limbs over his shoulder, you shooting the oldest a disappointed look, “that’s rich coming from you!” you replied, though he just laughed at your compromised situation, “what are you, 4’11?”

“5 foot actually!” he stuck his tongue out at you, and you scoffed, now fully on your boyfriend's shoulder without realization.

“w-wait, jungsu put me down.” you laughed nervously, the gravity hitting you at once, “i can jump in by myself, no need to get handsy.”

at this point, the four youngest were chanting ‘toss her in’ repeatedly, swinging their arms above their heads like you were being sacrificed to poseidon. you giggled because as all this was happening, you still found them incredibly cute, and as much as you didn’t really like the water, you knew anything would be fun with the six of them involved.

before you were met with the cool water, you pointed to jooyeon, mouthing ‘you’re next’ threateningly. however, he just jumped in after you resurfaced, beginning to playfully splash you, to which you returned more than gratefully; after all, this was his idea.

jiseok had joined his team, seungmin and junhan yours as jungsu pressured the oldest to join you six. he eventually gave in, joining your team while your boyfriend chose the opposite. you gasped offendedly, hand to your chest watching him swim to face you.

“top ten anime betrayals.” you joked, sending a light wave at him, “you get to sleep on the couch.”

“in the doghouse,” gunil laughed, “that’s crazy.”

you turned to him, “you need to stop watching love island — no one says doghouse.” his eyes narrowed, “w-what? i’m just letting you know, unless you’re a early-thirties british woman, doghouse is crazy.”

“okay!” jooyeon yelled, “no team kills!”

“and he needs to stop playing so many video games — he’s not even that good.”

“i heard that!”

you replied quickly with a series of hearts, and then motioned for him to continue. he explained the rules of the game — messily might you add — causing you to give your boyfriend a look of confusion that he mirrored. however, you just imagined that it was going to be fun nonetheless, even if you were the first person out by jooyeon's standards, whatever those were.

you protested that it was just a practice round, but he pretended he couldn't hear you, childishly singing over your voice.

"you're just scared i'd actually beat you, huh?"

you went to the edge of the pool, pushing yourself out and into a seated position, legs dangling in the water. you watched the boys play-splash, and even though you had a front row seat, you still couldn't understand what the rules were; you just prayed if a second round was played, he'd re-explain for your sake.

after another minute of the game and screams were erupting, catching your attention to the man who would be joining you on the sidelines. jungsu protested (just like you had) to no avail, gunil and seungmin pushing — with no assistance from the water — over in your direction. he looked annoyed, jokingly of course, as he joined you with crossed arms.

"wow, if i didn't know any better, i'd say we've been set up. is this how they get the guy and girl to start dating? real original."

your boyfriend stood in front of your legs, an eyebrow cocked with amusement. "baby, we're already dating."

you faked a shocked expression, "and you didn't think to tell me that?"

"shut up!" he replied, playfully swatting your knees, "you know there's no one else i'd rather be with."

"i don't know, ice spice is kinda hot."

both his hands now rested on your thighs comfortingly as he directed all his attention to you — and despite the chaos behind him, all you could see was him.

"you ruined the moment, y/n."

"what!" you exclaimed, lacing his fingers with yours, "you know i'm only joking — she is hot — but i love you."

he jumped up, lips hitting yours momentarily; you could barely even call it a kiss, but nonetheless it made your cheeks tint a light shade of pink you'd just blame on the sun.

"i love you more."

you faked disgust, dropping his hands back to your legs and moving them to his cheeks. "cringe." you stated before pressing a proper kiss to his awaiting lips.

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

#kpop #kpop requests #kpop writing #kpop imagines #kpop oneshots #kpopidol #kpop bg #romance #xdinary heroes #xdh x reader #xdh #xdh imagines #xdh fluff #xdh scenarios #xdh jungsu #kim jungsu

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headingalaxys-spicy · 11 months

Note

Hello darling

Can I ask for yan france, england, america and Germany with a darling that's using them to get citizenship/green card?

America: Kei….No, don’t you dare write this while watching and making references to 90-day fiancee.

Me: Too late bitches! This ask demands it! *laughs maniacally while typing like an absolute maniac*

Germany: “Oh nein, Sie hat vier Espresso-shot getrunken…”

France: Mon Dieu

🇺🇸 America 🇺🇸

In short, he’ll bring on the hellfire like Danielle and he has actual power, so that makes it even worse for you.

He will figure out that it was all a clever ruse when you’re not giving the relationship your all when it comes to emotional closeness. The way that you refuse to cuddle with him, don’t kiss him with passion, the looks you give him are devoid of warmth that someone in love would usually. Don’t worry you’ll get your green card with strings attached.

“Y/N, I have a surprise for you.” He guides you along a cobblestone pathway down some winding pathway. You pretend to have fun with his antics until he pulls the blindfold off your eyes. You were staring at a dressing room and a few ladies who were covered in pins, measurement taps, and needles.

“Hello, Y/N, we’re going to be preparing you for tonight!” The eldest lady with a nicely made-up bun states to you with glee.

“What do you mean?” Confused, you’re sure you didn’t want the answer to it. But you try to have an air of excitement around you.

“Your surprise wedding to Alfred! You’re going to become Mrs. Jones tonight!”

‘Oh shit I thought I had like 45 more days to figure this out.’

“Aren’t you happy! We’ll be married Y/N, and that means you’ll be an American and mine. Well, I’ll leave you ladies to it I have to get ready myself!” He gives you a peck on the cheek and tauntingly whispers, “You’re mine.” in your ear as you see a glint in his eye that you’d never seen before he walked backward for a few seconds before dashing off from the place where he’d brought you.

You knew you were fucked if you didn’t because for the last week or so he’d been telling you about his exploits of having to hunt down people who were here illegally and had been convicted of fraud, robbery, or some kind of crime they committed while in the United States. This conversation always seemed to pop up after the two of you discussed how long you’d be staying in the States from (country name), saw an ad for 90 Day Fiancee about a mystery couple or something that remind you of the shortening time for you to make a decision about the future. And since it was close to impossible without it being illegal (under the table) for you to find work, you really had only two choices: go home or depend on Alfred. You, of course wanted to be in the States, so you choose the latter but since a surprise wedding, and Alfred showing his far more dangerous tendencies, you wondered if heading back home to try a different way was possible. After all, you weren’t at the altar yet!

You decide that being with Alfred wasn’t worth the green card and you decided that you didn’t want to be under someone's control for it. So you decided to make a break for it. The red flags were blaring in your head, and you were not about to be a part of this! America is going to suspect that you’d do something like that so he did have agents of his ready to tackle you as soon as you tried to make your way from the wedding venue. They’ll hit you with some heavy sedatives so that the dressmakers, stylists, and make-up artists can get you ready for the big moment. This will be televised in and marketed as a Special Episode on 90-Day Finacee where the mystery couple is you and him tying the knot.

He did this so that his nation and others will know who exactly you belong to. He will also make sure that you renounce your citizenship in (country name) so that it will be virtually impossible for you to escape back home.

🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 England 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿

He has friends on the other side that will help him in his endeavors to ensnare you.

He’s the king of manipulation and shit-starting. So of course, it only takes him a few days to figure out that all you wanted from him was the green card.

‘If that’s all you want from me love I’ll give it to you under a few conditions.’ He will mention it causally while the two of you are having high tea at Theatre Royal Drury Lane.

“So, Y/N love I know that your visitor visa is about to run out in about two weeks' time, right?”

You do your best not to choke on your lavender tea, as you dare to gaze into those toxic pastoral green eyes that held back all of the disdain that he had for your betrayal. They also brimmed over with something else you couldn’t quite place.

“Yeah, what of it, I mean you have recommended getting married soon and I’m excited about it albeit, kinda weary.” You had begun to notice some of his red flags and the fact that he never really wanted you to leave his home so that you could be at your hostel. It was so much so to where you were never allowed to be on your own without him or one of his royal guards dressed in civilian clothes. You just wanted to be able to roam the British Isles and take in the sights on your own without having to worry about a time limit, but the only way that you could do that is if….

“Well, why not? You’ll get your Green Card and become a natural British citizen. After all isn’t that all you want?” Outright accusing you of what he knew was true by your demeanor and desire to do things without him involved.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You put down your porcelain cup. You didn’t want him to try and argue with you in public and expose you.

“You know exactly, what I mean, Y/N; you only want that. Don’t lie to me. I do have the upper hand since I have connections throughout the whole government, and I’m myself a special agent and part of the royal family. There are things I can do right now that will make you tremble in fear.” He whispers-shouts at you lowly as not to attract the attention of the whole tea room.

Your throat is tight from holding back the forming tears.

“I….” Some of them fall, but you were quick to wipe them from your face so that you wouldn’t make a spectacle of yourself. “Yes.” You decide to be honest, knowing that lying would only escalate the situation further. You were surprised that he gently grabbed your free hand that wasn’t trying to wipe up tears with his black leather-gloved hand.

“I have some paperwork for you to sign. You’ll get what you want, and I’ll get what I want.”

It’s, of course, marriage registration forms and some other documents that forbid you from leaving the U.K. unless you have explicit permission from him or that he’s with you. You also have to give him your passport from (country name) and visitors visa, and it’s engulfed in flames right before you. Ensuring that you’d never see your country again. With that he will be nice in the beginning of your marriage but once the honeymoon phase is over he will start his training for you on how to love him properly.

🇫🇷 France 🇫🇷

Oh he goin use his beautiful tears to make you regret trying to use him. Sparkles. Sparkles everywhere.

Like England, France is more upfront about confronting you for your trickery. Although the way in which he does it is tame, romantic, and emotionally manipulative.

As the two of you traversed the Pont d’lena to the Eiffel Tower on a brisk cold Fall night Francis wastes no time in talking about the future that he wants with you in great detail.

“You know Y/N I never thought that you’d use me.” Caught off guard by the sudden statement all you could respond to him was with a “huh?”

“What are you talking about Francis? I thought we were in a good place in our relationship.” Trying to gauge how you’d maneuver out of this conversation and onto something else.

“You just want me for the Green Card so you can stay admit it! You’re not like Jenny to my Sumit! You don’t care for me in the sweet way that she does for him!”

“What has you like this Francis?! It’s so random!” You stated, frustrated that you have to mitigate yet another dumb argument. You brace yourself for the downpour because Francis's now shaded blues covered in massive rainclouds was about to be released in the next few minutes of tears and the realization that he’s caught onto you and your scheming.

“You don’t treat me like a lover! You don’t tell me I love you ! Like you mean it. You’re almost lifeless when we make love and you don’t eat my expertly prepared food that is made with LOVE and COMPASSION your eyes don’t spark up with joy! You look like I’ve just given you some awful canned American or British food. Plus you’re always stiff whenever I hug you! Your LIKE A ROCK!” He will just allow himself to let tears flow freely down his face like a river that's broken out of a dam.

All you could do is let the French man cry his eyes out while passersby wondered if you were tormenting the poor man. There were many raised eyebrows that looked on at you in judgment.

(Yes, I’m referring to Jenny and Sumit because I really do believe that even thought the odds are well interesting. I really do believe those two love each other despite the difficulties they face. Also, this was the best example I could think of in the moment while typing this.)

“Francis can we please talk about-“ He swiftly cuts you off dramatically by forcefully grabbing your hands as he gets down on one knee.

“If you love me Y/N then prove it, marry me!” A sudden burst of sparkles appears around everywhere along with red roses. You didn’t really have the time, energy, or headspace to question how in hell those things apppeared from thin air because you were stuck between a rock and a hard place currently.

“Fra-“

“If you want to save your own face right now and have a chance of ever coming back to France you’ll say yes mademoiselle.” Although he said it sweetly you knew that was a threat.

“Okay, I’ll marry you Francis.” You know full well there would be a much longer conversation later along with not being able to leave his bed for a week straight.

“Wonderful and I even have your engagement ring pick out which will go so well with the outfit you’re wearing!” His sudden change back into being extremely happy was jarring to you and for a few moments you did have to wonder if anything that was happening to you currently was real.

He grabbed your left hand with force and slid it onto the fourth finger. It’s glow radiated a harsh light of malice although a stunning diamond signified your permanent entanglement with him. He placed a gentle kiss on the back of your hand and it sent a shock through your nervous system. You were in danger for sure but it would be disguised as a charming prison with lace, chocolate, wine and other luxuries flowing without any other connection to anyone else on this earth.

🇩🇪 Germany 🇩🇪

He’s going to make a perfect darling out of you one way or the other and he’s going to do it through ruthless training and reprogramming your brain.

Since he’s asked Italy for help after hanging around you for 6 weeks and you still haven’t treated him like a true lover but someone who doesn’t act like their in love. He plans how he will confront you and the best way to do that is be underhanded. He overheard one of your conversations (he’d set up microphones all through your living quarters) with your friend back in (country name) that you were only sticking around so you could obtain your green card and get into the Masters Program you’d been eyeing for quite sometime. “Since you want to be a snake! I can also pull a reverse uno on you Y/N!”

Lately since you’ve been hanging around Ludwig you’ve felt sick and he’s been having to take care of you during these long sick spells. You’d feel horrendously fatigued, weak, and even somewhat nauseated. He’s been strangely sweeter to you and doting. You don’t question it since he did love helping you out with your green card situation. You never did start to question him since your brain was foggy and you were too disoriented to think about the underlying danger you were in with him. You never questioned why he suddenly became sweeter towards you and why he was so hellbent on making every meal for you.

“Y/N?” He gently placed a hand on your forehead to see if you were running a fever of sorts.

“Yeah?” You say groggily. The nap you took on his couch somehow made you feel much worse than you did before you took a nap.

“Are you really sure you’re up to the task of getting yourself home? I mean it’s across the city and it’s nighttime it’s not really safe for you to be outside anyways.” He states sternly. You could already tell what he’s about to suggest.

“Just stay here Fraulein. It would be foolish for you to get home in this state. And I can’t allow you to get hurt or sicker than you already are. I’ll go get some better blankets and pillows. I’ll be right back.” He’ll diligently march away and prepare his next round of poison for you to ingest. It’s not deadly but it saps you of energy and makes you disoriented. If your this way for long enough you’ll accidentally miss your date to exit Germany and return to (country name). He can pull a few strings with his government and say that your in his care and would be 100% unfit for international travel of any kind even on train you wouldn’t be allowed to leave. He’d have you right where he wants you. You’d be unaware the entire time.

“If Y/N wants to be in Germany wish granted Fraulien. But you’ll never be able to leave I can’t allow it there are so many men who’d hurt you!” He mutters to himself as he laces your Bavarian Griessknödel with crushed up sleeping pills.

You’re essentially going to be in a zombie like state due to all the drugging that he puts in your food and drink. After a few months he’ll light up on it and gradually hint at the fact that you no longer are a citizen of (country) and that it’s thanks to him that you’re safe. He’ll gaslight you a ton and make you believe that he’s doing what’s best for you after all you wanted a green card to his nation so badly he arranged it with the caveat that you have to be with him whenever you leave the house, you’re going to have to learn German, and you’re eventually going to have a tracker on you that will be connected to his phone at all times. You’ll be his sweet Fraulein that obeys him…. Eventually.

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