#I might come back later and paint him fully lol

[aballofbees]

When Viktor hasn’t slept in a couple of days:

[b0rtney]

ALL im saying is if u gave me fuck u money i'd write a fanfic where, for some reason i will come up w later, katniss doesn't/can't volunteer for prim during the reaping.

so we get prim and peeta in the hunger games, hamish and effie coaching them as best they can. and prim is, ofc tiny and scared and like. 11 or whatever (i forgor ages), and peeta is like ":) ok new plan: make sure katniss gets her little sister back!" meanwhile hamish is like "do i even know a kind of self defense that works for someone the size of perhaps a small potato or large hamster????" and effie is like "oh dear lord. oh jesus. she's just solidly gonna die huh??? oh god i need a career change???" and prim, after the shock has worn off, is like "oh shit i have a sister (and mom ig) to get back to. i gotta live thru this."

so prim is like solidly understanding she's not winning against careers in combat. she focuses on any other skill she can get-- medicine to patch herself up, camouflage from peeta, shmoozing for sympathy points (with incredible success, bc she knows who she is and what she looks like), and once she meets the other tributes she manages to worm some useful info on a few things out of a few other tributes who r like "oh poor thing won't survive the cornucopia" and, most notably, she becomes besties w rue.

and so peeta plays his angle of "i just wanna get back to the girl i love uwu," but doesn't bring prim into it as katniss's sister v much bc he knows that would put a target on her back, he instead paints himself as this big ol' sap that'll be easy pickings (if you can find him) so it looks like district 12 just spat out some softies this year (everyone back home is preemptively mourning). maybe he drops one line abt "i will do anything to get prim home safe" w kinda a looking-directly-into-the-camera-kubrick-stare moment.

meanwhile prim is like "rue. bestie. it might be great for us to play our friendship to the camera a bunch? for ratings?? ppl send us things for free??" and rue is like "aight sure yea lets do it" so they do it-- and if my lesbian ass has her way maybe they have little tiny baby crushes and like. hold hands or somn. idk ceasar would play it up and soon we've got the whole capitol like 'THE BABIES OH GAWD NO' and so the star-crossed lovers thing still happens, but with prim and rue. the capitol loses it's shit, bc they're on the way younger side, with baby faces, who have been playing up how tiny and defenseless they are to anyone who will listen for clout and donations.

with a push from peeta/haymitch/effie, ceasar's little-babies-who-will-never-even-get-to-be-fully-in-love-bc-there's-no-way-they're-surviving-the-next-24-hours shtick for prim/rue gets spun wildly out of control before the games even start and suddenly the capitol is demanding the games be called off since "so many of them are so young!" at most extreme, or wondering if the minimum age for the hunger games isn't too young at most moderate.

district 13 was not ready for such a prime revolution moment to happen so quick, but they make the best of it in a somewhat disorganized way. They sway public opinion into spinning this story up, up, and away from capitol control, which eventually (through difficult to succinctly summarize PR bullshit) has everyone calling for snow to step down, and he can't very well use the cattleprods on the supposed upper crust, can he? not when every other district is already twitching for an excuse to revolt and has been for a while. so he 'gracefully' steps down (repercussions to be written in fic). district 13 is like damn they r fr handing us this one wtf.

coin(? i forgor names lol) is just barely too slow to neatly slot herself into power, bc now the capitol+districts is like "WE should get a say *insert democracy/anarcho-communism/republicanism/alt-govt.png*" idk maybe panem fractures into smaller govts that stop being affiliated w one country idk. i havent written the fic yet bc i dont have fuck u money.

what i DO know is katniss is honestly too involved in watching the games and subsequent bullshit to notice gale breathing, and peeta comes home w prim who is like 'can we go visit rue in the spring?' and katniss is like '....... u just restructured the govt...... sure yea wtvr' and peeta goes back to pining bc i just dont think he knows how to make a move when not on a death-related timeclock. maybe prim throws him a bone and wingmans him in there.

[thedeal-if]

The ROs take it upon themselves to wake up the MC so they don't miss work or an appointment, how do they do so? (also hi! i hope you're doing great!)

Hi!! Aw thank you💕 I'm doing great! Hope you are too~!

(Dante is a fucking mess of a man I'd be shocked to see him waking himself up in time to help MC lol)

You wake up to the smell of burning food and the sound of a door snapping open. He’s not exactly running late, but Dante doesn’t have all the time he would have needed to make the situation as memorable as he’d hoped.

“(Name)~ Svegliati, mia gioia~,” Dante coos. English comes back swiftly when he sees you stir, the language switch always turns his pitch a little deeper “We’re running a teensy late and I don’t want to see you stressed~”

You mumble sleepily, “How late?”

Truly, a good question. Dante still doesn’t know how to use a phone, he doesn’t own a watch either, so he cranes his head to check outside, eyes meeting the clock on the hallway wall.

Oh, you really are running late.

“Em,” words are hard to find under pressure, but Dante’s hesitation probably speaks loud enough, and you sit up hastily, bleary-eyed “We should get going soon, gioia. Or now, if you can.”

Lilith, early riser as they usually are, makes sure that their alarm gives them all the time they need to freshen up, dress, and get their makeup done and on point. Getting you to your appointment means seeing you inside and picking you up if you wish them to. Lilith is responsible enough to handle the job, it also involves you, and you’re much more fun than the alternative.

You wake up to find Lilith by your side, sitting on your bed, graceful like a cat, they smile like one too, tentatively. Their care extends to the tender way their fingers graze your cheeks, the teasing touch makes goosebumps paint your skin. Lilith bites back an affectionate smile, they whisper your name instead—as if afraid to break the peacefulness of the early morning.

“Love, time to start the day,” they say.

Josh will end up confessing days later that, though he has always been sure about the time and date, he checks over seven times whether got it right or not. In all honesty, you wouldn’t have guessed he feels paranoid about being wrong, Josh wakes you up like he has done it a million times before.

“Hey, it’s time, Dot,” he says softly. And Josh is exactly on time as always—he will also confess, with a flush, that he waits for over ten minutes while staring at be clock just to do that—, a mug of coffee he brewed earlier in his hands.

Josh waits—he waits often, doesn’t he?—until you’re conscious enough to take the mug into your own hands.

“You’re going to do great today!” the pep talk Josh gives you might come a tad too early for you to fully register anything he’s saying, but Josh’s burst of energy is motivating enough either way.

Villanelle accepts naturally with a cheerful clap of her hands. She expresses some worry but promises she’ll wake up on time. No matter what. Villanelle delivers on her promise the next morning, and her bright smile greets you like the morning sun.

“Rise and shine~” Villanelle sets down a mug on your bedside table. The flowery scent of its contents fills your senses “It’s green tea. It always helps me wake up.”

It must work wonders if one were to judge Villanelle’s ever-bright presence, even so early in the morning. The witch coaxes you until you’re sitting up, she promises she made the tea so you would like it.

Last night Victor checked over the plan with you, he went over the motions and steps methodically. You felt like you were his partner, the two of you getting ready to hunt down some demon—except the only thing that happened was your request for him to wake you up for work.

Victor knocks on your door until you are well awake, he never crossed the threshold, giving you privacy and insisting through the wood only when he feels that you’re running late.

“You’re ready?” Victor questions once you join him in the kitchen. He eyes you briefly before he checks the time, and nods “I’ll drive you there once you’re done— I prepared a simple breakfast.”

Calling it simple is definitely acting up on his modesty. Victor seems to know, he smiles a little when you eye the feast he made. For you.

Despite Aliyah’s initial—quite strong, very verbal—refusal, the genie happens upon your room at the—what are the chances?—ungodly hour you once asked her to wake you up. Aliyah denies her interest in your well-being as is customary. Then, she proves it by being rougher than rough. She pulls up your curtains, rips the bedsheets off of you, laughs at your puffy, sleepy face when you turn to glare at her.

“You knew what you were getting into when you asked,” Aliyah shrugs, she always looks strangely smug when she’s right, but today seems to be an exception. The genie notices your eyes on her, and her self-satisfied smirk returns “Don’t look so worried, human. Confidence is key.”

You think that this is Aliyah’s roundabout way of telling you she believes you’ll do great.

As soon as you ask Nathan to wake you up it’s like a flip is switched, he takes the task as gracefully as he can, with a seriousness that dies almost as soon as it appears. Nathan is blind to your very human emotions, he automatically assumes you’re nervous about your appointment and tries to get your mind off it as best as he can for the rest of the day.

Nathan wakes you up like the two of you are going to a party, with a misplaced cheer that is strangely endearing given the situation.

“Morning, morning!” he beams—albeit a little forcedly—, yawns a couple times, tugs on your hand until you’re sitting up “It’s so… fucking early! What a joy!”

You remind Eden of your need to wake up early the day prior, she makes a note of it and dutifully shakes you awake the next day. Eden stares at you for a few seconds, puffy-eyed and shaking the haze of the morning, then she chuckles.

“Coffee/Tea/Juice?”

She asks like she remembered to buy/brew it, but you find out she didn’t quickly enough when Eden abandons the house to get it fresh for you. It’s an unspoken offer for you to shower and dress, one which you take, and by the time she’s back, you’re ready to go.

[mint-yooxgi]

you asked for predictions!!!

so i think everyone’s saying yeosang and i agree, this is personal for him especially since he’s the one she wants so i think he’ll go absolutely blood thirsty…. but….

jongho and hongjoong are going to lose their minds. i can see jongho getting incredibly protective and just fully take care of business- he can’t even spare a glance back at mc because he’s too focused on the fight in front of him but he’s not going to let her touch mc ever again. hongjoong i feel like would turn her knives against her, exacting precise matches of mc’s wounds or something intense and almost psychological. he’s completely incensed that this woman would come into their home, it’s so much more of a violation and he’s going to make her pay for it.

now as a yunho bias…. i want to see him go protective and berserk but i think in reality you’ve painted him (no pun intended) as more of an emotionally even character. he’s of course going to be angry and upset, but when mc was shot with the arrows he was focused and clear- one of the first to take actionable steps to help her. i think this will be the same, he’s more distraught than angry but he can put that aside to help her. i can also imagine a quiet moment later on in his art studio where he’s grieving that loss and mc comes to him, but that might just be my wishful thinking.

i would also put money on seonghwa going insane, and san being like blood thirsty but focused on helping mc first if she’s still gravely injured. mingi i anticipate being angry but more like yunho, he’s focused on her more than anything and i could totally see mc begging him to go check kuroo. wooyoung i can see on either side of the coin? either wildly blood thirsty and helping destroy miyeon or a bawling mess attached to mc’s side trying to heal her wounds.

sorry if this is the longest message ever and i might be off but i’m so excited and this is fun!! also if you accept emoji anons…. 🧸

oh one more thing (sorry lol) - i also kind of predict her to finally break through and pluck one of the strings- i’m not sure who’s but like almost a hail mary moment where she finally gets them and they blink home.

as far as who feels the guiltiest? there i picture yunho because he’s the one who taught miyeon and i can anticipate him regretting that and wishing he had better equipped mc to protect herself. i think hongjoong too will have a tough time after he’s done being bloodthirsty - he’s the leader and would take this all to heart in a different way.

okay i’ll leave your inbox alone now but thank you for this and the chapter 😅

I do indeed accept anon emojis, but sadly the teddy bear has already been claimed!! Just let me know of another one you’d like to use and I'll gladly sign off your asks with it in the tags!!

Yeosang is definitely at the top of berserk boys, I can confirm ehehehe

Funny you should mention Hongjoong and those daggers... One of them he is already quite familiar with... 👀

I’m literally loving this analysis of their characters, especially Yunho’s because you are absolutely right!! He is going to remain the most level headed out of all of them for the moment because his petal is suffering. Oc first, dealing with Miyeon second.

You’re also mostly right about the rest of them!! I don’t want to give too much away, but you’re on the right track for quite a few of them, and I'm so happy their characteristics are shining through!!

I love this so much, thank you for sending it in, I definitely enjoyed reading your predictions for the next chapter!! They were so detailed and interesting!!!

[volfoss]

Doll faceup/doll nudity under the cut 👍 this is a big project so word heavy

Dindrane, my poor Bobobie Apollo is in for his THIRD faceup because I just couldn't figure out the vibes of what I wanted to do with him until a day or two ago. I wanted to test how I could make burn scars seem realistic on a BJD, as I wanted to give him several, along with several scars on his body and head! This was in a way, preparing for my VERY big Frankenstein doll project, as I would be blushing that full doll in different colors with pastels. The mockup on this one was definitely a bit harder and I decided to not include it here for the fact that it would be way easier to just jump into the work!

First off, I used a watercolor pencil in burgundy to sketch out where I wanted my scars and a normal pencil to sketch the burns out. There's a LOT of spots I wanted the burns so I wanted to use a lighter color pencil but they weren't showing up on the resin at all 😭

^ first coat of blush (VERY faint. He's white resin so I have to do very pale colors unless I want it to overly stand out). The outlines are kinda hard to see here but they are definitely there!

Then I saw some peachy orange pastels I had mixed up for my last faceup on Theo, and realized that would be a perfect color for under the actual 3 dimensional burns I would be making later on. So I just jumped right into it, running out and then mixing up a color that I thought was the same but turned out to be more red. I would have to add more orange/peachy tones next layer.

^ not to Bob Ross here but I had a few happy accidents with this layer! My sealant had kind of been finicky in a couple places but really just added more texture/depth to the scar sites! You can definitely see where the burns are more vividly now! I obviously still have to do the regular faceup and the rest of it but so far so good! I keep the head right by to match with the body so I can really make sure that the scar is matching from the neck to the head. I had originally wanted to do something similar with Dindrane, with a scar instead of a burn but I feel that he is really coming together like this! A lot of the areas I'm not showing (ie the back) are still blushed but I can't go TOO picture heavy or I'll have to make this a 2 part post 👍

Next layer was adding more colors to the pastels, the method I use to seal (using a sponge on sealant) gives me really interesting edges when I do this so I'm really happy with again all the happy accidents of the pastels picking up on the sponge I'm using! When I switch to the rest of the faceup, I am definitely going to get a new sponge but for right now it creates a lot more natural edges on the burns imo!

I have the head and body separate here because they're drying (shocker i forgot to take a pic before sealing lol)

Burn is pretty much at the color I want! We did run into SOME technical issues with the eyebrows as you wouldn't guess that white pencil wouldn't show up on a white resin doll but it doesn't. So i had to paint the general shape on w acrylic paint lmao. They are BARELY visible but they're pretty even for what I'm working with rn! Next up is adding a lot of the really dramatic black eye makeup that he had before and then doing small burns and scars on the body! Also blushing the lips but I also might do a lipstick, it'll really just depend on how I'm feeling when I hit it 👍 the blushing is cracking a lot less in the joints than I expected which again is very good to know for my Frankenstein doll since 99% of the joints are going to be going through a similar treatment!

My favorite hobby is being like hmm ok this is where I'm going with this faceup ^-^ -> get into it and am like hmm. Ok whole different direction. This is definitely what happened here lmao. I had been struggling to pin this guy's character down for a month and while doing the eyebrows, it hit me fully and I knew what I wanted to do with this faceup! Which was a wonderful feeling tbh! So in my horribly terrible mistake fashion, I decided to do my acrylics and pastels on the same layer as I did NOT want to wait for it to dry and my inspo leave me in the meantime. This basically means I cannot make any mistake which is scary. Do not do this etc.

Brows still BARELY visible in pics but everything else turned out perfectly. By some FUCKING miracle my god. No clue how tho. So this now just leaves the burns and the scars, the latter of which I'm putting the red paint on rn bc i am um. Impatient so so bad lol. Very happy w this faceup tho like... It's him to me and that's a really good feeling :)

Realized the dark ass pencil was in fact a pain to cover up so mixed a kind of skin color paint with a tiny bit of my blood color to get a kinda middle shade between the skin and the scar which created a nice edge which will hopefully blend a bit better when I get to the glue and texture stage!

This is while it's still drying BUT. If it looks anywhere near this good when dry I'll be THRILLED. This worked way better than I expected and I am VERY glad I did such dark pastels under bc it set a really good foundation for the textured part of the burn! It's 7 am as I'm writing this and I am so so sleepy so I postponed the arm for another day but here's how the torso is looking! I'm letting it dry overnight, as well as the head and then will see if I need to do another coat tomorrow

^ very early on as I covered all the red on the torso but this pic shows it looking pretty dry so wanted to pick this one 👍

Faceup still drying here but. I added more definition to the scars on the body by doing another layer of glue + pastel and did the same on the face. Added piercings to him and it's basically all just waiting for a ton of it to dry now 👍

^ first pic is before the second coat but just showing how it all looked dry and second pic is faceup finished minus gloss! I will be posting finished pictures later but this was a BIG project so I hit max pic limit quickly. Obviously when I did the rest of the glue, I added the arm burns and the rest of the burns on the lower arms. I'm STILL not done with this body though. I need to do a lot of burns on the legs and add tattoos on the legs as well! This is definitely a very long project lol. The tattoo stuff is definitely going to wait for later because I have no clue what I want to do with him but this entire project has been a HUGE help with doing 3 dimensional modifications like this and it's going to be insanely helpful when I work on my Frankenstein body next. A lot of the techniques I used here are ones I will also use there so it should be pretty easy! Hopefully lmao.

[yelenasdog]

moving out, moving on (mitch rapp x fem reader)

genre: fluff

summary: mitch and reader are taking another step towards mitch moving on, and it’s bittersweet.

words: 2.2k

warnings: drinking wine, kinda suggestive at times, talks abt katrina, mitch being emotional, my writing being melodramatic LOL

a/n: so. this was written during an all nighter that went to 7 am where i was listening to nicki minaj and eminem (???) for a good duration of it so. i’m very sorry if this is wonky at times! i hope u enjoy either way! mwah 

🥍🥍🥍

The early morning rays streamed through thin fabric, draped above the assassin's window. Dust particles floated about, becoming visible within the section of light cast from the sun. The birds perched outside the small apartment tweeted happily from their branch, their songs beautiful. 

Though, they were quite pesterous to the pair that lay together, wrapped in gray sheets. They reveled in the heat provided by the soft blanket, but even more so by the warmth from their joint bodies.

A mop of dark brown hair stirred, bringing one hand up to softly rub his eyes with his knuckle, the other hand snaking around the waist of the woman peacefully sleeping beside him. He watched with fond eyes as she lightly groaned, rolling to face away from the invasion of bright, turning towards her love. 

Mitch smiled down at her sleepy behavior, reaching out and brushing stray hairs from her forehead. He reluctantly retracted it only moments later, forcing himself out of bed to go and prepare the two of them for their big day as best he knew how: Coffee.

His sock clad feet dragged across the hardwood as he went, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and groggy-ness (a word Y/n had donned as her own, and Mitch had caught on to) still very prevalent in his entire system. 

The Rhode Island air was frigid this time of year, Mitch allowing a grin to break out on his face upon remembrance of two nights previous, just how cold Y/n had been in the arena of the Providence Bruins hockey team. Nose pink, donned in a beanie proudly showing the team's logo, well, he had found himself a new lockscreen.

He shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of said groggy-ness, his body on autopilot as it made the beverages. He picked out her favorite mug from the cupboard (AKA a souvenir from Dubai he had picked up long ago) that she had adopted as her own, drinking out of it every time she would spend the night, almost like clockwork. He waited for his coffee beans to brew, scratching his stubble along his jaw. He flinched, though, when he felt two arms wrap around his middle. He quickly relaxed into the embrace upon realization of who the supposed assailant was, her head finding its way to rest on his bare shoulder.

“You scared me, there.” Mitch muttered, his larger hand inching towards her’s on his waist. He closed his eyes in content and she hummed in acknowledgment. Mitch allowed her to turn his figure to face her, still residing in her arms, seeing a bright smile plastered across her face.

“Only for a minute though, right?”

She laughed to which he chuckled in response, nodding in false surrender. “You’ve got me there, Y/n/n.” He mused, his eyes lighting up at the sound of the coffee machine beeping. He looked back to her, shrugging.

“I made you coffee, was gonna bring it to you in bed but, y’know.” He gestured to where she had now climbed up to sit on top of his counter, his sweatshirt around her that read “Brown University” across the front in large lettering pooling around her thighs.

“It’s alright, I need to get a move on anyway.” She smiled, hopping down to retrieve the mug, taking the warm ceramic from Mitch’s hands and sighing at the wondrous feeling that had spread through her whole body. She lifted it to her lips and drank, not surprised that her boyfriend had made it just the way she liked, to perfection. 

“Thank you, baby.” She commented, reaching up to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. Her lip curled as she pulled away, Mitch already knowing what she was going to say, a laugh bubbling up in his throat.

“Mitch! Go brush your teeth, for the love of God!” She whined, watching as he scampered off towards the bathroom, snickering all the way. She rolled her eyes, downing the rest of her beverage before following where Mitch had gone.

Once in the bathroom after rinsing her and Mitch’s mugs, she tied her hair up, undressing and turning on the water (practically scalding hot, of course). Mitch had no objections to the temperature, though, seeing as it was his last time showering with her in that apartment, and in that apartment, period. 

The whole thing felt very symbolic to Y/n, at least, seeing it as washing themselves clean for the next phase of their lives together, a sort of preparation. (Maybe not so much for Mitch, who really was just pleased for any excuse to see his girlfriend naked.)

They used generous amounts of soap, as not only were most of them nearly empty (in fact, a few were and if it weren’t for Y/n, they probably all would be), but also that they had decided to simply just buy new toiletries as a whole for their new place.

They giggled at the sight of each other, all lathered in bubbles and suds. Mitch reached a finger forward, wiping it from above her eyebrows and preventing it from falling into her eyes. Y/n brought her arms around his neck, her lips connecting with his. “Much better.” She regarded with a smirk, before leaning back in.

Nearly 40 minutes later, they both emerged from the shower, fresh faced and ready for the day ahead. He didn’t have a lot that needed to be packed up, given that his place came fully furnished, so it took all but 2 hours and 5 boxes to pack up Mitch Rapp’s life. It honestly might have taken even longer than originally would have been needed, as Y/n would stop every time she found something interesting, allowing Mitch to tell her all about whatever stories had been connected to the item.

It had started with the ridiculous bird lamp that sat on his bedside table, once belonging to Mr. Nazir, and ended with his lacrosse stick. (And, a promise that one day, he’d show her how to play. He swore he’d never seen her smile that big.)

They also threw away and donated a lot, some of Kat’s old stuff bringing a pained smile to his face as he would place it in a box simply labeled “Kat” in messy, thick letters. He wasn’t sure if the box would end up in his new closet, covered in dust and unopened, or back with her family. But either way, he wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to her completely, which Y/n was able to understand.

“Mitch? Did you pack away your coats already?” Y/n called out, opening up the closet near the front door. Her breath slightly hitched in her throat upon seeing all of the photos of Mansur, still pasted to the painted wood, the edges curling up. 

“Nah, not yet, I was gonna handle that while you worked on the cupboards” He responded, busying himself with a text from Irene on his phone wishing him good luck. He looked up and saw what she had been asking about, his phone quickly sliding into his pocket as he made his way over to where she stood, visibly distressed. 

“How long have these been here?” She questioned, feeling Mitch’s arms wrap around her shoulders. She brought her hands up to grasp onto his wrists, leaning backwards into him and biting into her lip.

“Since the beach, when I decided to go after Mansur. When everything happened with the CIA, it was kind of a whirlwind, I didn’t really have enough time to even think about taking it down when I was only even here for hours at a time.” He lightly chuckled, watching as she stepped forward and began to take the pictures down, crumbling them up in her hands. 

She ran her fingertips over the indents left in the door, feeling the splinters against them. She turned back to Mitch, quipping how “Mr. Nazir won’t be too pleased about that.” 

He smiled, joining her in taking all of the images down, ripping them or balling them up in his fists. All of them ended up in one of the old Target bags they had been using for trash, filling up an entire bag (minus a few Dunkin cups sitting at the bottom).

Mitch trailed a few tender kisses down the left side of her next, and though it sounds cheesy, a feeling of hopefulness flooded himself out of most of the bitterness that had been stuck inside for so long. 

She turned her head to catch his lips with her own, and smiled into the kiss, her hand finding the back of his head. She lightly tugged on the chocolate colored strands and he groaned in content, to which her grin only widened. She pulled back, ruffling the top of his head before beginning to pack away the remnants of what was left in the closet. He rolled his eyes, following suit.

They had piled all of the boxes into the back of Mitch’s old decommissioned CIA vehicle (which was obvious that is was such, given that the side was littered with bullet holes and metallic scratches), returned the key to Mr. Nazir (who was glad to see Mitch go), and with that, they were off.

The new place wasn’t too far away, the pair taking a page out of Stan’s book and opting for a wonderful sense of privacy. It was nestled in a rural corner of Massachusetts, where Mitch would be able to come home to a sense of serenity. Y/n had already moved in her possessions, Mitch’s items being the last step. They’d also furnished the cozy cabin, trips to IKEA and Urban Outfitters (along with several other over-priced boutiques) making the place feel like a perfect fit for the couple.

Mitch’s strange and varied knick knacks made the house feel like a home, his lacrosse stick finding a new home by the front door, right under a hanging potted plant that Y/n and Mitch had decided to affectionately name “Charles” after a drunken night watching the X-Men movies. The house was littered in plants such as Charles, in fact, with Mitch’s first response to seeing all of them being “Wow, looks like a greenhouse in here.”

(Still, he’d grown to love the plant babies. Trust me.)

Two tired smiles made their ways to their faces as they both sat on their new sofa, admiring a job well done. Though several boxes still lay on the hardwood, unopened, they felt accomplished enough to pull out a bottle of wine that they had been saving for the occasion. It was an early housewarming gift from Stan, to which they were unprepared to take advantage of, it seemed.

“Baby, did we unpack the wine glasses earlier?” Mitch questioned, his mind slightly foggy of the day's events and early start.

“No, I think they’re still packed up.” She replied, to which Mitch’s eyes lit up, an idea forming and an imaginary lightbulb popping up over his head. He got up from his seat, a wide smile spreading across his face. Her expression mirrored his own, with an added quirked brow at his antics.

“I’ve got a solution, wait here.” Mitch responded, padding over to where he had remembered the new home of the mugs to be. Upon realization of what he was doing, Y/n smiled, rolling her eyes and bringing a hand up to run through her roots.

He shuffled back over moments later, his girlfriend recognizing one of the mugs in his hands as her favorite. He sat down next to her, with the bare skin of her thighs touching his own, jean clad. He bumped his knee to hers with a giggle, pouring out the Pinot Grigio into the mugs. 

She gratefully accepted it as it was handed to her, smiling as she took a sip. Mitch did the same, the two of them leaning back into the soft sofa. Y/n brought her legs up, cuddling into his side and absorbing his warmth. He brought his free hand to her side, a strong hold giving them both a strong sense of comfort as she lay her head on his shoulder.

The box labeled “Kat” remained unpacked along with the others on the floor, dust already beginning to gather. Mitch had come across it a few times that day, each time more thoughtful than the last as he struggled to decide what it was exactly he was feeling towards the objects; or perhaps towards the memory of Katrina.

He had come to realize that it was acceptance he felt, deep in his stomach, settling down. It had been brought upon him in totality over time, today’s events being the final step. A soft smile spread across Mitch’s face, a single tear falling from his eye. Y/n looked up, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“Mitch, are you alright?”

He leaned down, connecting their lips in a watery yet nectarous kiss, his hand beginning to rub small circles on her shoulder. 

“Yeah, Y/n/n.” 

The fire they had built earlier was roaring, now, casting a warm glow across the pair’s features. The damp trail down his cheek was highlighted, nearly glistening on his skin like an amber. 

“I’m doin��� just fine.”

🥍🥍🥍

ok btw ik that wine in mugs would be a horrible idea but this is fiction so SHUSH

anyway i hope yall enjoyed! i love writing for mitch and i have lots of future fics for him, so if u liked this, please reblog and follow if ya wanna. mwah, go drink water and have some protein <333

 xx hj

[11queensupreme11]

JJK Cover Page Predictions

I... am absolutely BORED out of my mind so here are my predictions for upcoming cover pages. 

The cover for volume 20 has already been leaked! It’s Ryu Ishigori! 

A colored and finished version will be revealed later on, and I can’t wait to see it! I love how slutty he looks here 🥺💖

Volume 21 is definitely Kashimo. Hakari already featured in a cover and the only other characters that showed up in the Tokyo no. 2 Colony Arc were Charles Bernard and Panda... one’s irrelevant and the other got cake-popped within 10 seconds of a fight. So yeah, my money’s on Kashimo (I wanna see his official colors so baaaaad 😫)

Other cover predictions for future arcs

Uro: I think she’ll be an important character. She has ties to the Fujiwara and they had ties to Sugawara no Michizane. I believe that if there’s ever an arc centered around the Heian Era, she could be the one talking about it (so like a flashback arc or something).

Hana Kurusu: I feel like this is a given. Once we come back to Megumi, the arc will most likely center around Hana. 

Sukuna: I know we already had a Sukuna cover, but that was him while in Yuji’s body. I’m talking about Sukuna in his original form; two arms, a belly-mouth, and two dicks and all. This would probably come when Yuji eats all 20 fingers or if... if Sukuna were to fully take over Yuji’s body and regain his original appearance. Or... I don’t know. Basically, anything to do with Sukuna getting his old form back. 

Takaba: For those who don’t know, he’s the comedian guy who fought alongside Megumi. Anyways, I have this whole crack theory on how he could help unbox Gojo (you can read it here). Regardless of whether he actually frees Gojo or not, I feel like he could actually be a pretty important character either way. So yeah. He might have a cover

Sugawara no Michizane: Idk why, I just think it’d be cool lol

MAKI: Can’t believe stinky rat man Naoya got to feature on the cover and not her 😭😭 but this only gives me hope that she’ll come back for another arc where she’ll be the focus again 🤗

The other Death Painting siblings: Again, I just feel like it’d be cool. I really hope Choso manages to incarnate his other six brothers 🥺🥺 he and Yuji deserve to have a nice big family who love and care for each other 🥺💖

Miwa: I don’t know wtf is going on with this poor girl, but I feel like she’ll be important later on when we return to the Sendai Colony where she was last seen 

Geto: Like, the real one. Remember when Kenjaku approached Gojo and his hand suddenly went around his own throat?? There’s theories that Geto might still be fighting for control or his body’s been cursed to remember who Gojo was to him and that was what temporarily stopped Kenjaku. Idk, maybe there’s an arc that reveals this or something 🤷‍♀️

Tsumiki: Idk either, but it’d be nice 

[greenorangevioletgrass]

reasons wretched and divine (richkid!haz)

"Happy to lie back, watch it burn and rust. We tried the world; good God, it wasn't for us." - Hozier, Jackie & Wilson

summary: over a year later, at Harrison's birthday party, the two of you revisit the past as the future fast approaches.

pairing: richkid!harrison x richkid!reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: formerly enemies to lovers, established relationship, lots and lots of fluff, minor angst, bi!harrison, language, drinking, weed, SMUT! hate sex, dirty talk, oral (f), fingering, unprotected sex, cockwarming, choking, A Relationship Milestone lol

notes: i was fully planning to make this a quick birthday blurb, but you know me. i have no self-control lmao. soooo... enjoy part 4 of richkid!haz! 🌺🥂💕

***

With music blasting, drinks pouring, and guests mingling in every corner of the Positano villa, Harrison’s birthday bash is officially in full swing. It’s the complete opposite of his birthday last year --where you spent the whole week in his grandparents’ cottage, riding bikes around town, taking long walks around the fields all day, picnics by the lake, dorky dancing in the kitchen…

You don’t mind it, though. You love a good chance to dress up, and this is the first one you hosted with Harrison since you went ‘official.’ From close circles of families and friends, to famous acquaintances you met in passing… practically all the who’s who of the world are there.

But with a big shindig, comes a big consequence.

You barely spend any time with each other.

Right now, you see Harrison’s out on the terrace with Tom and his brother Harry, laughing and smoking and drinking… looking out the distance, mind seemingly wandering further and further away from the conversation.

He catches your eye, and you raise your champagne glass from the drawing room. You fully intend to return your attention back to your friends, but you see him excusing himself and making his way to you.

“Ladies, I’m terribly sorry. Can I borrow this one for a minute?” he flashes a smile so dazing, you’re impressed none of your friends swooned at the sight.

They redden and stumble over their words a bit, but at this point, it’s a given. That’s the Harrison effect you so hated, but grew to find annoyingly endearing now.

“I’ll be right back. I need to know how the Cherry Bomb saga ends!” you call out to your friends even after he practically drags you away towards the hallway. “What’s going on?”

“I haven’t seen you all evening.” he simply shrugs, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Thought you and I should spend some quality time, no?"

His hand wanders down from the small of your back to the swell of your ass, which earns a side eye from you. "Don't go looking for trouble."

"Or what?"

"Or I might have to pull you into the closest room and put you in your place."

He smirks, concealing it as greeting guests. "I'm counting on it," he squeezes your hip playfully.

Not expecting you to make your move now, Harrison trips on his own shoe when you pull him towards the door on your right, stumbling into whatever room is there.

"Fucking hell…" he laughs as he realizes where they are.

The dusty red walls arch under the frescoed ceilings, Baroque paintings of gods and monsters and what-have-you fill up the space between bookcases and sconces. The window on the other side of the room faces the sea-- the water bathed in silver moonlight as dots of golden lights watch over them from the hills. And on the centerpiece, a striking, oak pool table.

Right where they started.

"Remember this?" he muses, pulling up an old, weathered copy of Pride and Prejudice and throwing it your way.

You swiftly catch it. “I remember you barging in and shouting at me.” you make your way to the end of the room, draping your body along the window seat.

It’s not unlike that fateful night many years ago, where you hid away from the festivities --the crowd, and the noise, and the heat. You just sat there by the window, seeking comfort in the cool breeze and a story you’ve read a million times...

“No, no. I remember you hogging my designated hiding spot, darling,” he retorts, reaching into the shelf. Retrieving a little jar of grass. "Finding my stash."

That night, Young Harrison was only able to breathe as the door clicked closed behind him. The party was suffocating. Why his mom didn’t let him stay in England, he had no idea. He had no use being there-- no purpose in wandering these halls, but to drain the wine supplies and piss off this peculiar, beautiful, infuriating girl.

Who was sitting in his favorite nook. Reading his favorite book. Smoking his fucking weed.

‘What the fuck?!’ he broke the silence sharply, although his death glares spoke volumes.

It didn’t deter you in the slightest. He was just a boy. A handsome one, yes. But also, what's a boy to rocks and mountains? ‘Finders keepers…’

“...losers can fuck off,” he quotes you back as he deftly rolls the joint, grinning to his ears.

"Yeah, you're laughing now," you point out in good nature. "You were practically steaming out of your ears. Though maybe that's 'cause you got the hots for me."

He opens his mouth to protest, but ultimately decides against that. "Fair. That's… fair. You did look hot that night."

"Mm. You had a funny way of saying it."

"What did I say?"

You hop onto the pool table before him, taking the blunt from his pretty lips. He scowls, but lights it for you anyway. "I believe you said… snooping fucking rat?"

He winces. "Shit. Sounds bad when you say it that way, eh?"

"You think?" you deadpan. "It's fine. Got my sweet revenge in the end."

'You wanna play for it?' Harrison echoed your words.

'Mm-hm. Winner gets the room and everything that comes with it,' you proposed, raising the book and the blunt, 'and the loser…'

'What, can fuck off?' he scoffed. 'It's my space. My shit. Just fucking give it up.'

'Aww, are you afraid of a little competition?' you took a generous drag, aggravating the hell out of him.

It worked wonders, because he grabbed the cue with a strong look of displease flattering his chiseled features. 'Do your worst, darling.'

"You played like shit!" the sound of your giggles fill the room; the party feels like miles away from your little corner.

His jaw drops like he's offended, poking at your side, which makes you laugh even harder. "I was drunk and you were--"

"Excuses, schmexcuses!”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You were not that drunk and you know it.” you narrow your eyes, shaking your head to call his bullshit.

The pleasant buzz of the Chianti was starting to wear off, although the sight of you bent over in front of him is enough to make him dizzy. Your boobs resting on the edge of the table, ass jutted out. The white of your dress looked angelic, but the way you looked up at him and smiled victoriously...

He was convinced you were the devil herself.

‘And there’s that,’ you announced, knocking the last ball into the corner pocket. ‘You know, Harrison, I wonder where that reputation of yours came from, since you barely know how to find the hole.’

And then it happened so fast.

First, you heard the clang of the tall wooden stick being dropped to the floor. Then his rapid footsteps approaching. Then his hands on your hips. You were spun around and faced with his blue eyes, face red with anger. Embarrassment. Frustration.

Lust?

“Harrison…” you shoot him a knowing look. “We didn’t lock the door.”

“Please. When do we ever lock the door?” he waves you off, lodging himself between your legs.

He pulls you closer with one hand under your dress, making himself comfortable in the crook of your neck. His other hand finds the bare skin peeking out of your thigh high slit, caressing you into a quiet invitation.

A bemused smile creeps up on your face when you feel his lips trail along your bare skin. “You are a bad influence on me,” you sigh, taking his chin in your hand.

He meets your gaze, the piece of ocean in his eyes gleaming in mischief. “Darling, I could say the same about you.” he returns your smile with his lips on yours.

Once. Twice. Deepening the kiss as you touch for the third time, luscious and languid.

Loving.

You were expecting to push him away (or hell, punch him in the face). Shut him the fuck up because you couldn’t take another single word of insult or whining out of his stupid mouth. And yet, as he stood before you, mere inches away when you wanted him far, your first instinct was to pull him in. Shut his mouth with your own.

Frankly, surprisingly, it was… not terrible.

Harrison kissed hard. Like he had something to prove. There was no moment of hesitation, no question in his every motion. He just dove into the deep end, taking you along with him.

And you swam in those deep, uncharted waters like you were born for it. Kissing him back, just as fervently. Just as relentlessly. You were not going to let him win… whatever it was you were fighting over now.

‘Guess that mouth is good for something after all,’ you mused when you both eventually came up for air.

He squeezed your hips tight. ‘I’ll show you what my mouth is good for, darling.’

You hopped onto the pool table. ‘Do your worst.’

And there you are, a bizarre reflection of your younger selves. Harrison placed you right in the middle of the pool table, smothering himself between your thighs, devouring you like a dog at the feast. Slobbering and sucking and fucking your pussy-- knowing every single thing that makes you sing.

Your hand flies onto the back of his head the moment he massages your clit with his tongue. Fingers digging into your ass like he can't get any closer to you, despite you grinding into his face with zero shame.

"Harrison…"

"Yes, darling?" he murmurs into your inner thigh, pressing a gentle kiss as he slides a finger into you.

The soft metal edge of his ring brushes against your opening as he enters you a second time. He fucks you with ease-- fingers moving in tandem with his ravenous mouth, and it almost infuriates you if he weren't doing such a fine job eating you out.

"Harrison…" you mewl in desperation, needing more more more of him.

"I know, darling. I know." he curls his fingers that makes you moan like that, knowing exactly where to stroke and lick to make you come apart under him.

He was pushing all the right buttons, surprisingly observant and accurate, and that scared you. Above all else, you did not want to lose. Did giving into your orgasm meant that he had power over you? Would he hold it against you? Was he not gonna let you hear the end of it forever?

'God, you taste so fucking good, it's stupid,' he muttered to himself, licking his stained lips as he watched his fingers pump in and out of your pussy.

If you didn't know any better, you would think he was just as close to his height of bliss as you were.

In your haze of inner turmoil and bodily pleasure, you saw him, rock-hard and grinding against the pool table for some release, and you thought…

Maybe, just maybe, he had just as much to lose.

'You gonna make me cum or what?' you sneered, steering his wrist to hit your g-spot and fucking yourself into his digits.

He replied with a growl, biting your inner thigh in a way that would definitely bruise you. He spat on your nether lips as if saying, 'fuck you,' and used it to slick the quickening motion of his fingers and his tongue on your throbbing cunt.

Your want clouded your worries, your judgement, your everything. The whole world narrowed down to the ache in your core. The ebbing and bursting incited by the hands and mouth of this despicable boy. And if you so happened to come apart at his mercy, then… let him have the privilege to taste your sweet release.

Your trembling, intoxicating release. Cursing his name in the face of God and the sky.

His dark blond curls and bright blue eyes faded back into focus as he straightened up, tall and handsome and alluring. For a moment, you forgot why you were pissed at him in the first place.

‘How’s that for a good use of my mouth, darling?’ he drawled, cocky smirk plastered on his stupid face.

Nevermind. Your memory was refreshed.

The distance between the pool table and the window is barely a few steps apart, and yet the trail is littered with discarded clothes. Your dress. His silk shirt. Your silver heels. His white trousers. And on the red chaise longue, Harrison holds you in his lap, impossibly close with his cock inside you. Kissing you and roaming every inch of your delicious curves.

“We should probably move,” you chuckle, pressing a kiss on his temple.

He shakes his head almost petulantly. “We’ve had enough moving around today. Let’s just… stay for a bit.”

In truth, you have been on-the-go with the party planning for the week. In all honesty, you want nothing more than to revel in his touch and keep him warm in your core. And in that moment, you allow yourself to indulge yourself in it. The party outside goes on without you just fine, and you're perfectly content with the little party you're having right here.

He nuzzles his face in your chest, lazily laving his tongue around your pebbled nipple, while he thumbs the other. Sucking those filthy moans out of you and grazing the sensitive tops with his teeth, making you squirm and clench around him.

“Fuck, Harrison…" you moan.

He will never get tired of you saying his name. In whole and full, even though sometimes the last syllable cuts off into a ghost of a whisper. He loves how you beg for him when his other hand finds its way to her clit again, drawing infinities with his fingertips. Moving your hips in sync with his motions.

You watch his head lull back, groaning at the feel of your walls grip his length like a vice. His witty mouth hangs open, and you can't help but trace your hand along his jawline. His eyelids are heavy, but they flutter open for you anyway. Blueish greenish eyes gazing up at you.

He looks beautiful like this.

"Fuck, you look beautiful." He kisses your wrist and guides your hand around his neck.

You pull him into a soft kiss, squeezing the sides of his throat, slow and steady, as those very same eyelids flutter closed for you. His voice is losing ground and the words die out on his tongue. But again, there's nothing he needs to say that you don't already know.

He is completely-- wholeheartedly at your mercy, and you gladly spend the rest of your days sparing him.

Your fingers curled around the edge of the pool table as Harrison thrusted deep inside you from behind. If the persistent pressure against your clit wasn't enough to finish you off, the erratic convulsing of his cock as he came sure did. His mouth was hungry on your shoulder and his hand…

Rested heavy next to yours. His little finger barely touching yours.

'You can take the room, it's fine.' you pulled your hand away.

There was a split second of pause before he removed his body weight on you. 'What?' he sounded groggy and confused.

'Yeah, it's…' you straightened up your dress and fixed your hair haphazardly. 'Whatever. I'm gonna go.'

He was about to say something, you could see that. But nothing he could say would clean up this new mess both of you had made. So you bolted out of the room quicker than he could stop you.

Half an hour later, and you're still holed up in that little room, snuggling by the open window as you pass the blunt back and forth. Your head rests on his shoulder, your legs folded over his lap. Clothed again (begrudgingly so, in your opinion.)

"Hey, I've always wondered what this little quote of yours was about." you point at the little scribble on the bottom of the very first page of the book that started it all.

‘Odi et amo. Quārē id faciam fortasse requīris. Nesciŏ, sed fierī sentiō et excrucior. 8/17/2014.’

Harrison peers over at the book. “How’d you know it was me?”

“Please. It was dated 2014. Who else in here would write some pretentious quote in Latin in their novel, your little sister?” you roll your eyes. “What does it mean, anyway?”

He gives you a look of feigned annoyance, but indulges you nevertheless. “‘I loathe and I love. Why I do this, perhaps you ask. I don’t know, but I feel it happening and I’m tortured.’”

The two of you fall quiet for a brief moment. The irony is not lost on you. How painfully funny that he wrote that about the boy who broke his heart that summer, only to go through years of that torment with you.

“I was… pretty dramatic back then,” he admits.

“I know. I was there,” you confirm matter-of-factly.

Harrison barely remembers his face now. All he can see is you. Your commanding wit and irresistible smile, in your white dress, in his arms…

“Don’t go anywhere.” he hastily stands up, setting your legs off of him.

“What?” you frown in confusion.

“Just… stay there. One second.” he picks up his jacket off of the floor and reaches into the pocket.

“Oh, I have something for you, too!” you beam, scrambling back to the pool table, where you put your little square clutch.

“No, no. Wait. Darling, hear me out--”

Meanwhile, you’re already taking out a sleek little velvet box. Turning around towards him, you open the box and say, “Happy birth--”

“Marry me,” he says at nearly the exact same time, with nearly the exact velvet box in his hand.

In your hand, a fashionable white gold ring in spiky patterns --Cartier’s unannounced new collection. And in his, a round brilliant cut diamond in rose gold.

“Harrison.” your breath is all but knocked out of you.

“I was planning to do this tomorrow, after all these… shenanigans, but-- I don’t know. I…” he stammers. The emotions seem to rise faster than he can find words, and he’s struggling more to keep the tears at bay. “I am… unreasonably in love with every single thing you do, and you--”

A tear escapes his eye anyway, and you fight back a sob threatening to come out.

His mind hurtles through thought after thought, millions of complexities that make up your relationship. Eventually, he simply goes with, “You make me better.”

And there it is. Your heart is full, and you’re bursting with happy tears as you gather him in your arms. Kissing him intimately. Urgently. As if trying to wake yourself up and ensure this is real.

“Hey,” you call out to him so softly. You don’t say the word, and you don’t need to. Everything about this-- your embrace, your loving gaze, your subtle yet certain smile… it’s enough of an answer for him.

He takes your shaking hand, himself also shaking, and puts on the ring. Your ring. And in turn, you put his ring on his finger --somewhat amused the ring you got him had a new meaning.

Harrison looks at your joined hands, two new adornments glinting in the golden light. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You simply kiss his knuckles and rests his hand over your heart. “Oh, what a way to go, right?”

***

hey! if you reached the end of the fic, i hope you enjoyed it! please consider reblogging and sending me asks for feedback bc i'd love to hear what you think! 💖💖💖

[somnianus]

On Chinese and Eastern Dramatic Acting vs Western

Part 1    Part 2

Mostly in ref to the Untamed/Word of Honor, but applies to a lot of East Asian works-

I’ve been getting the sense that people I know from the west (also being Asian-American myself) often interpret Chinese/Japanese/Korean drama and theatre to be too corny/cheesy/over-acted. A quick search on some internet forums confirms this. Maybe it’s because I used to watch a lot of C-dramas when I was a kid (Legend of the Condor Heroes/Return of C Heroes/Journey to the West/The Reincarnated Princess/etc), I personally did not notice that the acting was over the top. 

I don’t really speak for the quality of acting of these actors because I barely follow them in their careers, but I do know that some of them are immature actors or don’t have much formal training (which may cause the cheesiness above). However, Eastern dramatic acting in general does seem like a common complaint, so I decided to look into it - this is all coming from someone who JUST recently got back into watching C-dramas btw, doing my own research so don’t mind me if there’s some incorrect things down here, I am by NO means at all an expert in drama and theater (lol):

^Villains are often depicted with very exaggerated facial expressions (Above, Xue Yang, The Untamed)

Part 1

1. Chinese concept of mo vs western equivalent of “mimesis” or “imitation”

From this, an excellent chapter on Chinese theatrical concepts vs Western concepts.

Mo plays a significant part in traditional Chinese theatre, usually held to be antithetical to the realism of Western theatre because of its emphasis on theatricality. 

Mo means mimesis or imitation, but in a very different sense from the Western concept. One of the first Chinese scholars to use this term, Fu Sinian, used it to compare Western theatre to Chinese theatre:

Presenting a real event and performing an entertaining show are not compatible. The former emphasizes imitation (yige zhong mofang^b); the latter stresses spontaneity and entertainment. The former performance produces a lifelike image; the latter has nothing to produce. The former puts emphasis on the plot; the latter puts emphasis on theatricality. Therefore they are completely contradictory to one another.

This guy actually goes onto critique Chinese theater, saying it should be more like Western realism, so that there will “be no singing, and the acting will imitate people’s real gestures.” However! Other Chinese critics tried to approach Western vs traditional Chinese drama as two DIFFERENT but still valid forms of art. For example, Yu Shangyuan (1927) said western performance is “writing realistically” (xie shi) and chinese performance as “writing suggestively” (xie yi). Western dramas really rely on an accurate/semi-accurate representation of life and realism. Traditional Chinese drama and acting relied on the “symbolic and imaginative.”

Then what is mo? It is the emotional display, the emotional revelation, that is shown on stage. Starting from the Yuan dynasty, the Chinese drama was thought to be a continuation of poetry rather than its own independent stage art.

Poetry is where the intent of the heart goes. Lying in the heart, it is “intent”; when uttered in words, it is “poetry.” When an emotion stirs inside, one expresses it in words; finding this inadequate, one sighs over it; not content with this, one sings it in poetry; still not satisfied, one unconsciously dances with one’s hands and feet. [anonymous, 1975, from Shi Daxu 200 BCE]

Chinese drama with dancing and singing, was the most expressive product of poetry. The importance of mo cannot be stressed enough - it is the measure by which traditional Chinese drama was judged, how well this drama make you feel? Love, pain, loss, guilt, happiness? Plot becomes something that doesn’t matter as much (more on that later).

^Beijing/Peking Opera - highly stylized, emotive, “unrealistic” performances

To emphasize how central and important this concept is, it’s thought that a good Chinese playwright never fails to “seize a highly dramatic scene to stage an elaborate presentation of an emotional state.”

Love is of source unknown, yet it grows ever deeper. The living may die of it, by its power the dead live again. [Peony Pavilion, Mu dan ting]

This quote really shows how important it was to show these emotions on stage, to inspire the audience to feel deeply. Chinese critics believed that the best part about drama was how efficient it is to display emotion. Playwrights should “depict extreme bitterness, extreme happiness, extreme silliness, and extreme sobriety; imitate these feelings to the utmost (miao mo jin xing^p).”

Such performances are not necessarily accurately mimicking reality, but they are obtained through the “revelation” of a character’s internal emotional world.

2. Mo vs the depiction of reality or theatrical truth

The Chinese concept of aesthetic truth relates a lot to theatrical truth. In a lot of traditional Chinese art, painting, poetry, etc, aesthetic truth is not empirical, and doesn’t have to be accurate to life, or realistic. It’s a “truth that lies beyond mere superficial likeness.”

To the Chinese artist, an accurate resemblance between art and reality is not only superficial but often distorting. Chinese artists hold a dialectical view on the “form” (xing) and the “spirit” or “content” (shen) of an artistic object. According to them, xing  and shen are not always complementary. On the contrary, they often stand in opposition to one another. (referenced in the chapter above)

Traditional Chinese artists would rather represent the object with the wish that their representation matches its spirit, or abstract identity, than its actual form because a “photographic image is a shallow image.” It’s easy to draw a picture of something realistically, but it’s much harder and more satisfying to depict its nature, its feeling, its spirit.

This also naturally affects theater and dramatic performances.

Dramatic writing can be divided into two types: “a painting-like work” or a “transformed work,” in which the latter has higher artistic value because it reaches more towards the essence of dramatic object. Realistic imitations are fine, but they’re not really enough to reveal the mo or true feelings of something.

In addition, traditional Chinese dramatists believe that “all dramas are nothing but allegories. One need not ask about their origins in actual life.” You might be able to see, then, that these older playwrights and critics really fancied the overdramatic depictions of emotions.

a. The Chinese notion of theatrical truth/aesthetic truth vs European

Onto what we, as part of the Western audience, are more used to:

For Italian neoclassical critics, the pleasure of a drama hinges  on how accurate, how realistic, the depiction is. Castelvetro, the leading Italian Neo-Classical critic and creator of the concept of “the three unities,” claims thus:

We cannot imagine a king who did not exist, nor attribute any action to him.

Another Italian critic, Robortellus, said that a creative/imaginative story with no “verisimilitude” (truthfulness, in this context, realism) is less appealing than one that imitates a real-life event:

Thus if a tragic plot contained an action which did not really take place and was not true, but was represented by the poet himself in accordance with verisimiltude, it would perhaps move the souls of the auditors, but certainly less.

So basically, it’s fundamentally the opposite of Chinese theater. Italian dramatic works prized being realistic, being properly adapted from reality and real events. Chinese dramatic works, however, enjoyed the emphasis on heartfelt emotional demonstrations, or mo. Even in critical writings, the word “truth” is used, but it is usually used to modify the word “heart” or “emotion.” It is very concerned with the internal, the truthfulness of heartfelt emotional expression.

Taken these contexts, you can see why the Chinese stage/dramas are wholly “unreal” as Tao-Ching Hsu puts it. Everything, the makeup, the costumes, the props, is expressive and suggestive rather than imitative.

b. Bejing/Peking Opera, jingju

A famous example is the Beijing/Peking Opera, jingju. The makeup and costumes themselves are fantastical representations. The colors and patterns suggest different moods, temperaments, characters, and even changes in emotions. Actors would make distinct movements to depict distinct emotions with varying levels of energy. The stage itself may be sparse, because it is not as important as the expression of emotion and drama. 

The stage is sparse not because of the lack of technology or funding, but because it leaves room for the actor themselves to fully express their internal thinking/feeling/emotions. Characters can cross hundreds of miles in a few steps or may take the whole stage to cross a supposed road. This representation looks “unreal” to a realistic-minded audience, but it is very genuine to a Chinese audience.

Summary (so far)

This crucial understanding of the concept of mo (the emotional revelation), and the way traditional Chinese drama depicts life and stories, informs how their modern works are also portrayed. Coming from a Western dramatic background, where realism and plot are the most important aspects of a work, it can be very confusing, right? Even Chinese scholars began to judge their own dramatic works through a Western lens.

How does this traditional background affect modern Chinese dramas and works? I think it still has a very large effect, even though much of Western ideals about dramatic works have been heavily integrated into modern Chinese dramas.

Part 2: On Theatricality and how it transfers into Chinese Cinema

[writing-in-april]

Cinematic Coincidences

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

(Spencer’s POV)- listen I just love his POV lol

Summary: Spencer can’t bring himself to go on another date that’s been set up for him- so he stands his date up. Spence seemingly can’t catch a break and runs into the date he stood up.

A/N: Hey heyyy- here’s my seventh fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April!! This one was requested by @andiebeaword (I added a reference for your love of hallmark movies in this hehe)- this is the original request- I tweaked the characters involved just a small bit lol I accidentally end up defaulting to using the people on the dream team lol- im going to start working in later characters in the show into some stuff in upcoming works (I’m also rewatching the later seasons so that’ll help get me inspired) Im always looking for feedback on my fics or really to talk about anything with my followers so feel free to drop into my inbox- here!! Thanks for reading- y’all have been so sweet 🥰 and hope y’all enjoy!!

Warnings: Insecure Spencer, Getting stood up for on a date, Morgan and Garcia (just the team in general) not really understanding Spencer fully, one tiny sexual innuendo- I think that’s it nothing too bad this time around

Main Masterlist Word Count: 2.4K

This was not what I wanted to be doing today. Garcia had once again inquired about my love life- along with Morgan of course, wanting to find out about all the juicy details. I didn’t know why they continued to ask when it was obvious that my love life was about as exciting as watching paint dry.

I gave my normal response to these types of inquiries, brushing them off without sounding too hurtful. Unfortunately Garcia would not be satiated by my response, apparently she was now fed up with my dull love life and felt like she needed to be personally involved. Garcia was very near and dear to me, just like Morgan, but I couldn’t deny that this grated my nerves.

“We’ll make you a dating profile too! Maybe you’ll find someone cute to date- or maybe get some?!” Garcia was chipper as usual, with her eyebrows wiggling at her suggestion that I should have a one night stand. All that I felt from her words was dread.

The dangers of online dating swirled in my mind and I tried to protest, it came out more like a stammer though. Morgan then patted me on the back and piped up, giving his own opinion, “Yeah- I think it’ll be good for you, pretty boy.”

Again I wanted to protest, beginning to stammer out another reason why I didn’t think it was a good idea. I sighed heavily when I was cut off again, by Morgan and Garcia already planning on what pictures they were going to upload of me. At least I knew that they had my best interests at heart, they wanted me to be happy with someone- or get some like Garcia had mentioned earlier. Still, it didn’t change the fact that there was no way I’d ever want to go willingly on a date with someone I had met on the internet.

—-

My thoughts had not changed since Morgan and Garcia had set up the dating profile for me. There hadn’t been any person I had been on a date with that had successfully been able to keep me interested beyond a few conversations.

“No luck with the online dating?” Morgan had teased when I had walked in with my head held low. This endeavor was just making me realize how picky and undesirable I was. Why couldn’t I just find someone pretty and be happy with it?

Morgan’s face twisted from a smile into a frown when I didn’t answer him, making my way silently to my desk.

For the rest of the day the team tiptoed around me, sensing my sadness. There was part of me that was angry at them for thinking that I couldn’t handle a few bad dates. But, they were right. I couldn’t handle the sting of rejection or the disappointment of a date that didn’t live up to my expectations.

Emily always seemed to know how to cheer me up, so I did attempt some small conversation in the break room while we were both getting our coffee. She never gave me any pity like the others who just flashed me sad looks, unwilling to make any effort to help- or like Garcia and Morgan, they helped in the wrong way even if their intentions were pure.

Her solution to my problem did make my ears perk up a bit, “Hey- I saw that you’ve been down and that it’s been about the online dating Morgan and Garcia made you get into.” I nodded my head in confirmation then gesturing for her to continue while I poured copious amounts of sugar into my drink. Emily opted for mostly cream instead of sugar, stirring her coffee a little, then continuing her thought,”I wondered how you would feel about being set up on a blind date. It’s someone I know so maybe that would make you feel better about going on it? Instead of having to deal with technology that I know you despise.”

Emily had a way of seeing exactly how I was feeling and not just spitting out facts without solutions like the others. Her solution made me nervous of course, there would probably never be a date that I wouldn’t be nervous for. However, this option made me feel a little bit more hopeful about my prospects in the dating pool. It was someone that she knew and trusted enough to suggest them as a potential match for a coworker. Emily didn’t trust easy, I could trust her judgment on this despite my nerves.

I gulped down a large sip of my overly sweetened coffee, collecting my thoughts before then answering, “Alright- I’ll go.”

—

The date that I was supposed to go on was at a quaint cafe near work. Emily had even made the effort to make sure that I had been there before so I might be more comfortable.

At first I had been extremely excited for the date, even going so far as to pick out my outfit. I would have worn my purple button up, that was the one I got the most compliments in. Emily had told me some stuff that my date was interested in so I made sure to brush up on my knowledge by reading about the topics. I had even called back to the restaurant menu in my mind, preparing myself by picking out what I wanted beforehand. On one of my dates set up through the dating app I had stumbled on my choice for food, making the person unnecessarily snappy. I had to cover all my bases to minimize potential awkwardness on my part.

Self doubt began to creep in after I had gotten fully dressed. I had gotten ready way too early in anticipation for the date, now sitting on my couch tapping my foot impatiently. I looked at my watch that sat over my long sleeves watching the clock tick closer and closed to when I was supposed to leave.

Biting my lip in worry, my mind couldn’t help but wander over into my self doubts. I couldn’t help but ask myself why anyone would want to date someone as tall and lanky as me- or why would someone want to go on a date with someone that couldn’t keep their mouth shut about random topics that no one cared about.

My self doubt swallowed any confidence that I had begun to build up in preparation for the date. I knew Emily would be furious with me tomorrow when I went into work, I didn’t want her to find out through her friend though. Deciding to get it over with I pulled out the phone I never used and texted her, telling her that I wasn’t coming. I told her to give my regrets to my date, who at this point was probably waiting patiently for me at the cafe. Sighing in defeat I then retreated into my bedroom again, crawling under my covers.

——

Emily hadn’t been furious with me- well that was a lie, at first she had stomped up to me the next morning to chew me out. She became more disappointed than anything when she found out my reasonings. She hadn’t mentioned anything about how the person I was supposed to be going on the blind date with felt. Not that I really wanted to hear about it, it would only make me feel worse. All I got from her was a small remark mumbled under her breath, “Idiots- the both of you…”

For the next few weeks I tried in vain to push thoughts of my failed blind date out of my head. I had avoided going in the general direction of the cafe. Luckily I took the metro everyday to work otherwise I’d have to drive by it every day, and I already hated driving.

I was at the bookstore for used booksjust around the corner from the cafe that was supposed to hold my date a few weeks ago. This was the closest I dared to go near it in a while. Since then I hadn’t been able to go there anymore, even though I loved the coffee there. Immense guilt had wormed its way into my brain when I had tried to order something there a week ago. All I had done was stammer at the cashier before bolting out of there, just another addition on the list of embarrassing things that I’ve done in my life.

I was flipping through an old edition of pride and prejudice out of boredom, there hadn’t been anything interesting stocked on the shelves since I had last been here. Then a voice piped up through the air that had a bit of dust flying through it,

“Excuse me, sir- if you’re still looking at that book would you mind if I looked at the ones on the shelf behind you?”

It took me a second before I realized the person was talking to me. I then removed my eyes from the book to blink up at them a few times, then registering what they had said to me and moved out of the way.

Their eyes were still glued to mine, the bookshelf behind me that they had wanted to look at forgotten. An awkward chuckle was all we both could seem to manage as we looked each other up and down. Emily had shown me a picture on her phone of my date so I would have been able to spot them at the restaurant. My cheeks flushed hard once I realized who was standing before me. There was no doubt who this was, the date I had stood up the night before.

Silence then fell between us and not the pleasant kind, it was most definitely awkward. I couldn’t imagine how they must have been feeling after I hadn’t shown up last night. They probably had sat

“Um- hi…” They spoke hesitantly, wringing their fingers in trepidation. My jaw opened and closed a few times, trying to come up with anything to say.

“Hi!” Was all I could manage to squeak out, plus a small wave in their direction.

They wrung their fingers a few more times, seemingly trying to come up with a response. I was surprised they hadn’t hit me with one of the books near them out of anger. It would be a normal response to being stood up for a date, the trepidation and silence just served to unnerve me further. Eventually they spoke again, saving me from anymore awkward silence which in my opinion was worse than awkward conversation, “Um- sorry for um, standing you up uh- a few weeks ago.”

That made my eyes bug out of my head- they had done the exact same thing as I had? Insecurity soon swept in, trying to tell me exactly why they had not shown up without hearing their side of the story. I looked down at the book I was holding, reading a few words for a moment of reprieve. Taking a deep breath I asked quietly, not admitting to my own faults yet, “W-why did you um- not go? If you don’t mind me asking…”

A deep sigh was what I got at first, one that obviously had a lot of stress in it. They then did provide me with an explanation, despite their obvious embarrassment, Well- It had nothing to do with you- a simple explanation would be saying it was my insecurity’s fault.”

Not that I would ever want anyone to feel insecure, but I would admit that them saying that did make my own stress melt away. They had not gone for almost the exact same reasons that me. I decided to be upfront, giving them my own reasoning- though I wasn’t even sure they realized that I hadn’t gone as well. “I don’t know if Emily told you, but I um- stood you up as well. It wasn’t because of anything bad! It was really for the same reason as you.”

They then broke out into giggles after they had processed my words for a second, which were much more relaxed than the awkward ones from before. I didn’t blame them, it was a pretty funny coincidence that we’d both stand each other up only to run into each other not knowing what we had done.

“I feel like we’re in one of those cheesy Hallmark movies right now…” Their comparison only confused me, I had no clue what they were talking about.

“What’s a Hallmark movie?” More giggles came from them at my questioning, though for once I didn’t feel like I was being laughed at. I felt like they were laughing at the whole situation, not at me specifically like so many people had often done. Also, I couldn’t help but admit to myself that their giggle was very cute.

Once their giggles had subsided a little they asked me something that almost no one would ask the person that had stood them up, “Maybe I could tell you over a coffee? If you want to of course- Emily told me about how much sugar you like in it.”

My interest was peaked, making me further regret having stood them up in the first place. Though I tried to push that thought out of the way considering we had both done the same thing. It was time to let that go so I could go on a date with them finally. Seeing them in person and being able to glimpse part of their personality made me want to know more.

“Alright- sure.” I set down the book I had been passively reading, now completely disinterested in it. There was something far more interesting in front of me now compared to a classic book I had read over ten times.

We both walked around the corner, to the cafe that we had originally had our date scheduled at. Conversation flowed easily between us, showing me that Emily had been totally right to set us up initially. Her words now made sense to me, we were both a couple of idiots.

We then got our coffee, which had been much smoother of a transaction compared to the last time I had been here. I took note of how much sugar and cream they liked, just in case we were going to do this again. Sitting down at the closest booth I then asked, “So tell me about Hallmark movies?”

Ask Me Anything

—-

Tag lists (Message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith 😡😡😡

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey

[haleigh-sloth]

Hey! So I have more of a question and it’s got me thinking… and if you’ve answered this before then you don’t have to reply to this ask. But, with the recent chapters and the heroes dehumanizing the League calling them crazy/insane as well as S&S almost killing Shigaraki. Do you think HK will ever justify the LOV’s POV? Or do you think it would be just brushing it off when they get saved acting like their actions meant nothing? It just worries me sometimes cause we don’t get much acknowledgment of the LOV actually being right in particular circumstances of society, but the heroes never seem to want to learn. I know HK could be just building it up and I’m just getting ahead of myself, but the heroes don’t really seem to get consequences and there actions aren’t addressed for what they’ve done (hence E/Hawks situation, Nagant suddenly changing POV because Hawks “jumped in,” etc.) I mean, AM called Shoto’s brother insane and I doubt HK will have Shoto challenge others on that. This got long winded, so hopefully what I’m trying to say comes through. If it doesn’t you don’t have to answer like I said!

Oh man. Honestly---yes and no.

Horikoshi paints the heroes in a really really bad light one chapter, then puts them back into the righteous light two chapters later. He's really really inconsistent with the heroes and it's whiplashy.

Horikoshi is consistent with his villains, and that's it. Lol.

He paints the villains as victims constantly. Victims that ARE causing pain on a wide scale for other people, victims that DO need to be stopped from destroying everything because, in Shigaraki's words "violence perpetuates violence". Hori paints the villains as people who really just didn't have other options, but he has never stopped from painting them as people who are causing pain for others. They are still "villains". He holds the villains accountable in the story. Hori has just....never ever held the heroes to the same level of accountability. He's never fully followed up on painting them as perpetrators, at least very explicitly. When we're getting the villains' POV it's obvious who is causing them pain. But the problem is, this story is NOT being told from the LOV's POV. It's not. It's not supposed to be, and it's not going to be. Shigaraki--yes--but his plot line is really personal and I'd say focuses way more on the pain AFO and his dead family causes him rather than society. Although, him talking about All Might again is a call out to society.

So, with what All Might said---I honestly...don't expect Shouto or, anybody really, to tell him that was shitty. I don't expect any kind of call out. I don't. Unfortunately. But I'd love to be proven wrong.

What I think WILL be addressed, is each of the LOV members' personal pain.

Shigaraki's pain will be addressed through Midoriya. His hatred for hero society because nobody saved him, because everybody worships All Might like a god when he's not really any better than the other heroes (on the surface), will all be acknowledged by Midoriya. What I think will happen is Shigaraki isn't going to change his view on society (he shouldn't), but rather be given hope for society to redeem itself. In the same way Midoriya is going to be hoping for Shigaraki to change in the upcoming chapters, I think Shigaraki is going to change because Midoriya is giving him hope. Not because "the heroes were right and I was wrong", but because, "someone saw me as a human being worth saving despite everything I'd done, so maybe there is hope for change after all".

Touya's pain will be addressed through Shouto. Touya's family loves him. And he doesn't have to exist as an extension of his dad. Shouto had to learn the same thing, and he'll be the one to help Touya realize this. I'm not worried about Touya's personal pain being addressed because it will be. Where I get a little shaky here is whether Touya's criticisms of a society that allows his father to exist and STILL be a hero will be addressed. I think, to an extent, yes. People in the streets are blaming Endeavor, as they should. But....that's it. That's all we've gotten so far. Not the pros, not the UA kids, not even All Might! is saying SHIT about it. So, THAT is where I'm not so sure just HOW accountable Endeavor is going to be held simply because the story isn't doing it right now. But Hori is so unorganized, so so unorganized. He nails his points when he does, really he does, but the follow up is never there. It always comes back into play at the weirdest times it seems, but he doesn't seem to forget things he's introduced into the story. So, I have hope for this to change on the Endeavor front.

Toga--her story is less fleshed out, but Ochacko will eventually show her unconditional acceptance. Ochacko I think will think back on what she said (because she keeps going back to that specific moment with Toga) and be able to show Toga how she thinks differently now through her words and actions. Toga's family rejecting her---I doubt we'll get much there tbh. Where I get a little shaky on TOGA's POV is demonizing quirks. Yes I do think Toga will get to show that her quirk doesn't make her a deviant, how she can actually help (and save!) people using it despite how uncomfortable it is on paper. But idk if that'll be addressed on a large scale.

Spinner--oof. His stuff is deepy rooted in a societal issue and idk how it'll resolve itself within the story. Discrimination isn't something that just goes away after a few words so, tbh idk. I think we'll get to see Spinner be the face of a movement though in the end, since he has a fuckin fan club of cosplayers lmao.

TL;DR: I 100% think the LOV's personal pain will be addressed. I am NOT sure if the wide-scale societal issues will be addressed. Or rather, addressed well at least.

I don't think Hori will be so lazy as to make the villains all think "oh, we were wrong, darn". I think it'll be more of "We had no hope for seeing anything improve, but now we do."

Which acknowledges that there MUST be change, there HAS to be, but that in order to make that change happen, the endless cycle of violence has to stop. And the heroes (kids) are gonna be the ones to put a stop to it by showing compassion to those who hurt them. And they'll put a stop to it by giving them an opportunity to live normal lives in society.

I don't think there will be any mass destruction of society. It was never going to go that route because anarchy isn't the answer lol. And at the end of the day, the heroes are going to win. But the heroes are going to win by saving, not by perpetuating more violence.

[1997devil]

deals with the devil

pairing: mingyu x reader

w.c.: 2.8k

includes: incubus!mingyu, mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex, dirty talk & degradation, daddy kink, oral (fem receiving), fingering, creampie

a/n: this is me being self indulgent because that’s what got me 1k after all 🥵😛 i promise i’ll work on requests after this! i just needed to get this out of my system 🖤  also to clarify some things that may appear dubious, the drink the reader is holding is a potion by mingyu that he uses to lure her towards him! a lil fantastical touch i added to upkeep the demon theme lol

-

you mutter expletives under your breath when the dj hollers and shuffles to the next song on his shitty playlist of trashy holiday remixes. 

you’re only here because your friend had begged you to come along with her, pleading with such vigor she might as well had just dragged you by your wrist. she ditched you the second she set foot in the house, latching her arms around her boyfriend’s neck, the one throwing the party and the one who hired said dj. it really just reaffirmed how your best friend had a shitty taste.

when you entered what appeared to be a bar area someone had shoved a solo cup into your hand, the inside sloshing with a liquid you knew was strong, would blow your mind away from the scent that wafted from it, and would leave you with a killer hangover tomorrow morning. you didn’t dare take a sip from it, though you held onto it so that your hand wouldn’t look so lifeless, hanging by your body.

the shitty music didn’t pound against your still sober mind on whichever floor you were currently on, which you were thankful for. you wander through the house – perhaps the one thing your friend’s boyfriend was good for was the expansive mansion his family lived in – stumbling past locked bedrooms and powder rooms. people who were already trashed, no doubt from the same drink that remained in your cup, lingered about in the hallways. you gingerly stepped beside them, getting further away from where the party was mainly situated, not really having a concrete plan in mind or any sense of direction in what appeared to be a labyrinth standing as a house.

a bedroom you happen to pass by left its door ajar, and something called you from within to look in. it didn’t hurt to take a rest for a bit from the killer heels your friend shoved your feet into. you’d call a cab from there and you’d finally return home, within your safe space underneath your duvet.

there appeared to be no one, and you braced yourself to let yourself in fully. your heels sank into the carpeted floors as you slowly headed towards the bed. it was still clean and neatly made, and you wonder how no one has stepped foot in this bedroom amongst all the other ones you just passed by. you heave a sigh as you gently sat down on the plush bed. you hadn’t had a single bite or drink since night befell and painted the sky pitch black. the cup that’s in your hand still remains untouched, and you take a small sip, the alcohol burning like fire down your throat as you swallow.

something in the corner of your peripheral vision catches your attention, flickering, appearing transparent then returning to opaque in a moment you’d miss if you blink. it appears strange, fascinating, and you sense a stirring sensation throughout your body the more you rest your eyes on it. a voice that begins to resonate in your mind beckons you to come closer.

it feels like you lose all your senses as you face the man standing before you, and your brain eventually feels more muddled when you try to recall just where and you’d seen him before.

“had my eyes on you since you walked in,” the unnamed man hums, stepping closer to you, an arm circling around your waist. it presses you closer against him, letting out a soft gasp. your arms seem to move on their own accord, resting on his chest as he looks down on you. “wanted to taste you so bad,” he mutters, voice dropping to something lower than a whisper like you were the only one meant to hear him.

“w-who are you?” the lump that’s lodged in your throat since you swallowed whatever had been in that cup clears up just enough for you to brokenly rasp out words. you meet the man’s eyes, dark as midnight, glows and keeps your attention on him. you feel as if all your senses are heightened as he runs his warm hands on your body.

“call me mingyu, angel,” he smirks, a wanton intonation lacing his voice, “though you’ll call me many other things later.”

“l-like what?” you whimper when his head drops to your neck, gently sucking on your skin, fierce enough for you to feel but not enough to leave marks yet.

“are you gonna stay to find out?” his lips tickle at your ear, nibbling on your earlobe, placing a kiss to the skin right below it. it hits a spot you didn’t know felt good, a high pitched whine leaving your mouth. you nod frantically, and mingyu lets out a dark chuckle at how desperate he’s already gotten you.

it feels like mingyu controls all your movement, taking over your senses as he leads you around the bedroom and slams you to the door. his hand places itself firmly on your waist, and the other hand goes to circle your neck, almost like a priceless accessory that decorates the clean space of skin, like an empty canvas. it’s tight, hot, and you’d happily die like this, under his hands.

tears line and spring from your eyes, rivulets tracking your cheeks and dripping from your jaw. mingyu laughs, a snarky sound that is lined with fire and hell.

“haven’t touched you at all, pet,” he purrs, leaning closer to you, his tall figure towering over you. it is only fitting that the title of the king and ruler of the underworld is crowned to someone built like him. he commands attention, creates control in any space and room he enters, and right now he was playing with yours. “what’s making you so needy?”

he gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ears, a contrast to just how rough he’d been with you before.

“you,” you whisper in response. the smirk that remains on his lips is taunting. “what about me? i haven’t done anything to you.”

he continues. “what would you like me to do with you, angel? would you like me to make you feel good?”

the affirming nod you give is all the permission he needs as he presses his lips to yours, licks on your bottom lip as you easily grant him access.

–

“you wanna know a secret, angel?’ mingyu teases, slow and relaxed, unlike you who’s the spitting image of desperation and need for him. he’s been teasing you for what feels like hours now, reducing you to putty in his hands, just begging with whatever energy you have left for him to fuck you already.

you nod, masking your sounds as the pillow underneath you swallows your whine. you feel mingyu’s hand return to your body, slowly tracing a path of its own on your thighs, inching closer to your wetness but not quite reaching it yet.

“i’ve known you since before tonight, darling,” he mutters as his legs bracket your legs, fingers carding through your hair. “i’ve seen and watched you, even when you thought no one could see you.”

his gentle touch on your locks turns into a searing grasp as he pulls you up by your hair, making you stand on your knees. your hands try to grasp at something, until it travels to behind you, pressing your back to his chest.

“even when you thought no one could hear you as moaned and whined until you made yourself cum.” he bites out directly against your ear, hot breath fanning on your skin until the hairs on the nape of your neck arose.

“so damn pretty when you got your fingers fucking yourself fast and hard, hm?” he continues, punctuating every few words with a wet kiss to your jawline. “or when you think that dumb little toy you have can make you come. it’s comical, darling, that you think anything can make you feel as good as i do. you’ll come to know it, angel.” his hand comes down to your ass, gentle for a start, though mingyu knows you’ll beg for him to go harder. you let out a little yelp at the contact, and mingyu just feels even more fired up as he sees the red mark deepen on your skin.

he pushes you back down onto the bed. “m-mingyu-ah, d-do it already, pl-please,” you brokenly mutter, and mingyu delights in the way your voice cracks at every other syllable.

“do what, angel?” your hands firmly grasp on the sheets as you feel his lips travel downwards, tracing down your spine and the small of your back. he moves back just a bit so he isn’t sitting atop your legs anymore, then holds you by your hips to pull you up. your knees are barely strong enough to hold you up, and mingyu scoffs at what you’ve become under his touch.

“this?”

he runs a finger on your sopping wetness, and you loudly keen at his touch, finally. you momentarily remember that you’re nowhere near your own bed, yet you continue to release loud noises, not caring if anyone can hear you from outside. 

his mouth falls onto your pussy next, accompanying the ministrations of his fingers weaving in and out of you while he sucks and licks until you’re shivering. the anticipation that finally erupted with him pleasuring you produces moans and groans that mingyu absolutely revels in.

“what do you want, angel?”

you keen loudly with your eyes shut, taking deep breaths to not come early even though it seems mingyu wouldn’t even mind.

“w-want you in me, gyu.”

you feel mingyu’s grin deepen as he eats you out. “good girl.”

he lifts his mouth from your wetness, though his fingers don’t pause. he adds another digit, your wetness coating them up to their knuckles, dripping down to your inner thighs as well. you whine, impatient, and mingyu calmly shushes you, his other hand traveling up your body to pinch and play with your nipples.

“need to prepare you first, angel. you need to be able to take all of me, right?” he quickens the pace of his fingers, three of them now fucking you. your response is cut off by a whine. his feels better than when you do it yourself, going in deeper than you ever would’ve reached yourself.

“look at you,” he mutters in disdain, “can barely even take my fingers. d’you think you can take my cock?”

“pl-please, no more teasing, f-fuck me already!” you snap at his teasing, though mingyu seems unbothered, barking a familiar mocking laugh as he slowly pulls his fingers out, sucking on them, letting your sweetness coat his tongue and whole mouth, savoring your taste. he smacks your ass once more for good measure.

“demanding. be fucking grateful i’ll let it slide,” he growls, running the head of his cock on your entrance, as he slowly pushes in. he chokes on his own moan as he can barely push in up to the head of his cock. you’re so tiny underneath him, barely even fitting his dick, yet your pleading drips out of your mouth so easily.

your impatience takes over as you fuck back on him, and mingyu groans at how more of your tight cunt is enveloping his cock, warm and feeling so good. a gasp leaves your lips at how big he is, and mingyu’s hands bracket your waist, seemingly trying to stop you from going further.

“angel, y-you’re too tight,” he choppily huffs, a light sheen of sweat perspiring on his skin.

it appears to be your last straw. “please, please, i need you! n-need your cock,” you gasp once more, “please, d-daddy!”

you don’t even seem to notice the name falling off of your lips, but it reinvigorates the fire within mingyu. all his composure, the control he’d worked so hard to maintain so he doesn’t just fuck and break you, ebbing out of him and traveling far.

“you asked for it.”

he finally fully pushes in, his cock fully inside of you, your ass pressing against his hips. you gently swivel your hips, easing the stretch when it feels like his dick is splitting you.

“sweetheart, you’re driving me insane. what a greedy ‘lil slut, huh?” he grinds up against you once, and your arms feel like they’re about to give out. “getting off on daddy’s cock like this.”

his hands leave your waist, traveling to your nipples, flicking and pinching down on them. your whole body feels like jelly, letting out what you think are the most pornographic moans you’ve ever heard in your life. all your senses have been overtaken by the demon hanging above you, reveling in all the energy he’s feeding off of your pleasure.

mingyu bends over to press his body against yours, then straightens back up, bringing you with him. his hand tangles into your hair, keeping you upright as he finally begins fucking you, building up a pace. the sounds of skin slapping against each other resound in the room that feels larger than life, like no one can bother you.

he feeds dirty praises to you, and every syllable he bites out is almost competing with the noises you make. he tells you he loves how dirty you are, how wet and warm your pussy is, how soft your breasts feel, how you’re such a whore who so easily breaks when daddy fucks her.

his words tether back and forth between praising and mocking you, telling you that you look so gorgeous like this, brokenly sobbing at the pleasure, wetness dripping onto the sheets.

“do you like it, angel?” it is an understatement, and you can only express it through your dirty whimpers. “i l-love it, daddy. love it so mmm-much, ah, daddy, m-mingyu, ah!” you hate how mingyu keeps his composure so well, a sharp contrast to you, ruined and wrecked beyond comprehension.

“fucking you stupid, hm?” mingyu taunts.

then, in a smooth stroke, he pulls out of you, and you gasp at the loss of contact. mingyu leaves no time for regret. he moves back, turning your body around, letting you rest on your back. his fingers wrap around your ankles, pushing your legs up until he’s got you practically bending in half. he enters you again, easily picking up the pace he set beforehand. the new position easily leads him to the spot that makes you see stars.

your jaw falls as he continues to prod at the spot, hitting it perfectly every time. “right there, baby?” you deliriously nod, head lolling to the side.

mingyu’s lips on yours are soft and gently prodding, overwhelming you with the different sensations he’s subjecting your body and mind to.

“f-fuck, break me, daddy!”

mingyu’s lips stretch into a devilish smile.

mingyu slams even harder into you, pushing you to your limits. you see red, hot, and you know you won’t last much longer. you whimper, trying to work your voice up to warn mingyu, though you fail. he reads through you, his pace unforgiving as his hand comes to play with your clit, and you howl at the surge of pleasure that throbs through your body.

mingyu tightly grabs onto your thigh, pressing it down to keep you in position. “where do you want me, angel?”

“mmm, inside. f-fill me up, yeah, feels s-so good,” you’re completely out of it, slurring your words, not registering anything but mingyu’s warm hands running on your body and wetness, completely enveloping you until you’re teetering off the edge, ready to let the winding coil in your stomach burst.

mingyu groans, long and drawn, and makes the tension in your boy snap. you come from him coming, feeling him fill you up with hot spunk and pushed in deeper from how he doesn’t stop thrusting. sparks and sensations overflood you until you’re left with a gaping mouth and dripping pussy, as mingyu finally pulls out.

he coos as he watches you clench around nothing, his come dripping out of you. he bends down, using his tongue to clean up whatever had spilled out of you, then fucking the remnants back in with his finger. the overstimulation makes you keen once more, and mingyu finally takes mercy on you.

his lips gleam in the dark light, coated with the liquids dripping from your wetness. he kisses you again, and you taste the way yours and his come mix together in your mouths. your eyes flutter shut, feeling as if you’re suspended in mid-air as mingyu transforms from the ruthless dominant earlier to something much more gentle, lazily clashing his tongue with yours and pressing his digits down on your thighs to soothe the strained muscles.

it takes a while until he separates from you, and you can barely keep your eyes open as he smirks at you.

–

(you wake up the next morning in your bed, a sated soreness plaguing your entire body so great you feel like such pain would’ve only erected if you had thrown yourself off of a cliff.

a sigil that would’ve been invisible to anyone else but you brandish itself on your right pinky finger.

a feeling sinks into you, one that tells you he’d return soon.)

[keilemlucent]

hands on

(r18+)

ao3

eraserhead | aizawa shouta x reader

word count: ~2k

anon asked: You could write something with Aizawa about how the reader might have just had their first kid or gained a lol weight/ their body has changed a lil and Aizawa just can’t get enough of it/ can’t keep his hands off you anymore??? 👀

oh say LESS (this was one of my baby warm up pieces, so unbeta’ed. enjoy!)

warnings: chubby reader, just smut, just nice cute p*rn

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Wintertime was somewhat miserable, that was a given. Snow and cold would roll in, making the outside somewhat unbearable for any length of time. It was far easier to cozy up inside, especially when it was with you.

Shouta had called off patrol, having gotten injured enough the night prior for it to be warranted.

(You also bribed/nagged him with a new, warm recipe in exchange for self-care and an evening in, but that’s beside the point).

He’d spent most of his day off napping, lying on the couch half asleep. You hardly minded, working away in the kitchen and whispering idly to the cats. You both knew he needed the rest.

It was later on, in one of his more wakeful moments, that Shouta noticed something.

You had gotten... thicker.

It was probably your more sedentary tendencies during winter, and the fact that you had been cooking more, but it was undeniable that you had gained a bit of weight.

Shouta watched you from the couch, feigning sleepiness so he could drink in his new discovery.

You were only wearing one of his big t-shirts, soft with use, and a cute pair of panties from an older lingerie set, colored a cute baby pink. With so little on, it was easy to see the new roundness of your middle. Shouta felt his dick twitch at the thought of leaving the plushness of your inner thighs painted red and purple by his mouth. He just loved the way your skin bruised so well for him.

Fuck.

You stretched up to a cupboard, a high one. Your shirt slid up as well, showing more of your winter weight and God, Shouta was losing it. How had he not noticed?

The meat of your hips was thicker, love handles more prominent, maybe carrying a few extra stretch marks. Shouta swore he could see the extra chub of your stomach.

All he wanted was to worship your new flesh and skin while buried in your cunt.

The thought made his cock leak.

He was up in an instant, sliding behind you as you moved down from the cupboard.

You jumped a little when you felt his hands sliding over your hips through your shirt.

Turning, you flashed him a cheeky grin, “How are you doing, sleepy?”

“Very good,” Shouta practically purred, squeezing you. “Need any help?”

You leaned back into him, tilting your head to press a nip and a kiss into his jaw, “I’m alright. Food should be ready pretty soon.”

Shouta very much wanted a different sort of meal than the one you were so diligently preparing. He had other appetites to sate.

“How long?” He pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear, relishing the way your body fell back into him.

“Mmmmmm,” You hummed, looking back at the oven. “Maybe half an hour. Why?”

Shouta was already lifting your shirt to get to your squishier bits.

His hands went to cup your ass, making him damn near moan at the feeling of his fingers sinking into the warmth of your skin.

Had you always been this soft? It was winter, your skin should’ve been far drier. Then again, Shouta had been busy lately. Perhaps he hadn’t been tending to you and your body like he should’ve been, making it all the easier for your incredibly cute weight gain to pass him by.

He doesn’t waste any time, hauling you up by your ass, forcing your legs to wrap his waist. You let out a shocked gasp, hands going to clasp behind Shouta’s neck to keep some semblance of balance. It’s not like Shouta would ever let you fall, but the sensation of suddenly getting dumped onto the kitchen island was a bit jarring.

“S-Shouta?” You asked as he gently pushed you down onto the icy granite of the countertop.

God, his dick twitched at the slight tremor in your voice. Your shoulders hit the countertop as he licked a stripe up the fragile skin of your neck. Your hands were wound into the back of his shirt, legs trembling around his waist.

His hands were all over you.

Your shirt was pushed up to your neck, the cold air biting at you just as much as Shouta was. His worn hands couldn’t stop finding new places to touch. They sought out and claimed every bit of new flesh they could, squeezing and leaving crescent imprints.

The way he already sunk into your body made him melt. You were all warm sounds and keening moans that certainly hardened his cock just the same.

His hands skirted over your tummy, feeling the extra fat and squishing it between his fingers. Shouta was surprised as stuttering, low whine came from your mouth.

Oh.

Your head turned bashfully to the side bottom lip caught in teeth while you absolutely trembled.

Shouta ran a hand over your curves once more, taking careful note of how your eyes squeezed shut and your thighs clenched around his waist.

You were very into this too, weren’t you?

Shouta gave a low chuckle, leaning to lick and kiss up to your tummy and chest, hands all too happy to keep up with your mutual desires. Dinner be damned, snow outside forgotten; you were to be fucked well and proper.

“W-what brought this on?” You managed to ask, breath hitches as Shouta slides his hand over your sex.

He toyed with the elastic at the seam of your panties, humming, “Just noticed how cute you are.”

You rolled your eyes at that, half-snorting and tangling a hand in Shouta’s dark hair, “I think you notice that most of the time. Why jump me during dinner?”

Shouta hummed to himself for a minute, thumb rubbing over your clothed clit. You shook against him, head falling so prettily against the island beneath you.

“I just really love all of you,” Shouta’s voice came out husky and low as he left a sharp bite on your collar bone. “Just realized there’s a little more to love, hm?”

That made a blush of pure crimson dance over your cheekbones as you turned your head from him. Just bashful enough to be cute, and still very into things if the pressure of your thighs on his waist was any estimate.

Your attention was quickly brought back to him as he pulled your panties to the side to slip two thick fingers into your sex.

“Fuck, Shouta!” You cried out, back arching as his fingers curled.

His free hand took to massaging any part of you that it could. Your nipples were rubbed raw by toughened thumbs and your love handles would certainly be bruised the next day.

His fingers pumped slowly in and out of your cunt, stretching and spreading you just enough to be ready for his cock. Shouta truly wanted nothing more than to be buried within the plushness of your thighs and pussy, but he wasn’t about to prepare you half-assedly.

You melted over the counter for him, breath coming out in cute puffs and gasps. Shouta lavished you with kisses to your tummy and thighs, drowning in every part of you.

He withdrew his fingers with a pop, sucking them clean. You whined so sweetly for him, starting to sit up, eyeing his obvious bulge with hungry eyes.

“Not today, kitten,” Shouta purred, rolling your shoulders back into the island. “Maybe later if you want a snack, hm?”

The high, sweet noise that came strangled from your lips made him fuckingmelt.

Shouta didn’t even bother fully taking off his sweats. He just pulled the fabric down enough for his fully hardened cock to pop up.

You visibly gulped.

“I’d love to give you a taste,” Shouta licked his lips at the thought of your pretty mouth stretched around his cock. “But, you do have dinner in the oven, hm?”

You could only frown for a moment before Shouta hiked your legs over his shoulder. Your feet hooked behind his head, trying to drag him closer to you.

You whined, slicked lips parted, “ P-please, Shou’ ”

“Hmmm?” Shouta hummed, pressing a stray kiss to the underside of your breast. Your legs were pressed against your heaving chest as you shook (already) for him. “Want my cock, kitten?”

You nodded quickly for him, shifting your hips with impatience. You normally were more well behaved than this, but Shouta decided to indulge you this once. You were certainly indulging him, letting him throw you up over the countertop while in the middle of cooking.

Shouta was sure you'd complain a little bit about whatever slick and sweat was left on the countertop. He was also sure that you’d have no qualms with licking it up yourself if he gave the incentive of getting his cock down your throat.

But, that was for later.

Shouta teased along your folds, laying a hand flat on your pudgy stomach. He eased in slowly, letting out his own shaking cursed as he felt you physically fill up for him through your tummy.

“ Fuck,” It was all he could push out as you clenched down around him, pulling him closer.

You pulled him into a sweet kiss, one hand loosely cupping his jaw as he slowly pulled back.

He left hand-shaped bruises on your hips as he squeezed down your rounded hips, eyes rolling back in his head as he thrust quickly and harshly back into you.

You let out your own lovely, keening stream of sounds as he began to pound into you.

It was almost overwhelming to Shouta, how much of you he wanted to feel and hold of you at the same time. One of his hands stayed constantly clutching at one of your love handles, while the other greedily felt up the rest of you.

He gave soft encouragement to you, pouring like sweet cream from his lips; all loving remarks and sentiments about your body, the way it looked, and felt against his own.

Sweat dripped down the bridge of his nose as your slick dribbled (as prophesized) onto the countertop below. Your back arched so well for him as his thumb drifted over your clit a few times.

“Do you want to come, baby?” Shouta’s voice oozed over you, all low and rumbling. Your hold on his shoulders tightened as you nodded, pulling at him to press your lips together.

Shouta obliged.

You kiss him with everything you had. He could tell by the way your hands tugged in his hair, tongue licking into his mouth as you moaned and cried for him.

His torso pressed down into the meat of your own, squishing you in the counter as he fucked you without rest. His hand felt and squeezed whenever they could, drinking in every morsel of your figure. It just made his dick get harder even as he was plowing into you. He was only spurred by feeling the way your cunt fluttered and dripped for him.

The pads of his fingers circled your clit, pressing and keeping rhythm as you so beautifully came undone.

Shouta’s free hand gripped your hip as you came for him, bearing down on his cock as he stilled in tandem. He couldn’t help his own release when you just were so fucking stunning. Having you spread out for him, slick skin pressing to his own, already had him halfway from the start.

You kissed Shouta again as he fucked into you once, twice, and a third time as your shuddering sex milked his cock dry. With a soft sigh, you pulled away, eyes shiny.

You gave him a cute smile, breathlessly kissing the corner of his mouth.

Shouta did his best to help you lean forward, sitting on the countertop.

“So,” Your voice was scratchy as you beamed at him. “Dinner?”

As fate would have it, your timer went off a moment later.

Shouta could only chuckle, smothering you in kisses, unable to keep his hands off you for long.

[kookiepredictions]

Jungkook Current Energy

Jungkook has a... little skip in his step right now. He’s in LOVE. There might be a person in the picture but more than anything else, he is in love with LIFE. He is gracefully twirling out of mental and emotional binds that have been keeping him captive and he’s never felt freer! He feels like he has wings and he can fly and he wants to share this flight with those he loves. His heart space is overflowing with bliss and he wants to share this joy with everyone. Yet, he also realizes slowly that this is not something he can just give to someone— the other person has to be ready to receive it as well. So he is also safeguarding his bliss from those that might try to distort it with their own doubts or agenda. Outside, people might not even realize that his inner world is changing rapidly. After years of living life from external programming, Jungkook is now writing his own rules for his own life. There is a tsunami of rebellion inside his heart, but this is not the restless, chaotic kind— it is peaceful and stable, but also kind of a middle finger to external control programming lol. His bliss is not just confined to him either; I see a bevy of angels, guides and ancestors dancing around him in joy— it feels like a celebration! His heart chakra is spinning in a vortex of power that is soon going to be radiated all around him. Soon, his life is going to feel like a treasure trail where everyday he wakes up, each day feels like a diamond he has found on a walk— full of endless possibilities and rewards.

The last few years has felt like going through a series of doors where he opens one door which leads to another and then another... endlessly, and he was getting tired of it. Now he is at the threshold of the door that opens up to infinite space— it’s such a beautiful picture you guys I wish someone paints it— he will be standing on the edge of the earth with the door opening up to the stars where he will feel one with the cosmos, his bare feet planted firmly on the earth with long roots growing and connecting right to the core of the earth— he is placed perfectly between the physical and the divine realms. Right at this moment though, he is at the point where he is still ever-so-slightly hesitant. As I had mentioned in an earlier read, Jungkook attributes his spiritual journey and lessons and basically all good things to his Divine Feminine. There is an overwhelming gratitude that he feels for her and wants to share every beautiful experience and emotion that he feels with her. He is in a space with here where he trusts no one else with his happiness more than her. This is why, in happiness or in grief, in pain or in pleasure, he inadvertently wants to reach out to her. The “twin”, “I am you and you are me” aspect of this connection is dawning heavily on him and he can’t wait to experience this miraculous existence with her in the physical realm. This beautiful feeling when stretched out to the extreme, results in him being overly dependent on her which in turn makes the connection co-dependent which ultimately results in them repelling each other. This is why the more he tries to hold on to her tightly out of fear-based beliefs, the more he seems to be getting further away from her. This was the energy of the past, and Jungkook is slowly learning to let her go and ever since he has started to let go, she seems to be magically drawn to him. Right now he is in the energy of stepping into the realm of infinite possibilities and yet is just that bit hesitant and fearful where it’s like he is holding on to the pinky finger of her hand lol, unsure and fearful of what lies on the other side— kind of a “1 bird in hand is better than 2 in the bush” mentality. But what he is holding on to is only an old and outdated version of her; his Feminine has long since crossed over to the other side, so he’s only holding on to ashes, an illusion. It’s safe for him to fully let go and surrender. The upcoming theme for him is “sovereignty”. He is being led into direct connection with the Divine, who I see as his ultimate Guardian overseeing his whole life and his Twin Flame connection, where the Divine is like the father ushering in both of them into a life of bliss— I see 2 kids, a girl and a boy, frolicking in the fields— this is their inner children stepping out to play. His Feminine is already there and she and the Divine are waiting for him to let go of the past reality and step into this new one. For this, he has to go through the phase of spiritual sovereignty. He is being guided to be independent in his thoughts, beliefs and decisions— not just independent from those who he thinks are harmful, but also from those who he thinks are helpful, including his Feminine. Here, the point is not who is helpful, who is harmful, or who is good and who is bad, the point is only he can decide for himself from now on. Anything else will be rendered useless in his life. At this very moment, Jungkook is not entirely confident he can do it all by himself, plus as a perfectionist, he is extremely scared of making mistakes and putting himself and everyone else connected to him in jeopardy. But with energy, stagnation is more harmful than mistakes. In the bigger picture of the grand scheme of life, there are no mistakes. For every action is a step forward, so you can never really go backwards or do “harm” from a future perspective. The only harm therefore is to not make a choice, because if you don’t make a choice, someone else will and then you are in someone else’s reality rather than your own reality that you created from your own sovereign choice. There is also no rush or missed opportunities or moments, so take as long as you want, but be mindful that your life is a product of your own sovereign choice. Jungkook is being guided to step into the confidence of being a Creator, and is being encouraged by his guides and ancestors via synchronicities, rewards and surprises and of course, his intuition. In some recent happenings, he has had a taste of truthful sovereignty and he wants more. He is tuning into his intuition and realizing he is a lot more capable and connected than he has ever given himself credit for. He is slowly but surely learning to trust himself to take control over his thoughts, emotions and ultimately his life. Like I said, a tsunami of changes, but this tsunami is clearing away his old beliefs and programs and therefore, creating more calm and peace within him, that has also been gradually radiating outside where there will be visible changes in his aura and his beingness.

Nonetheless, Jungkook is happier than he has been in a while. Now on your spiritual journey, you will be met with a lot of happy moments and as a traveller that feels weary, it’s natural to want to settle for these happy moments and a lot of people make the mistake of doing so, not realizing that these are only the oasis in the desert. The actual goal is to cross the desert, because an oasis will not sustain you forever. Sooner or later, you will feel that this happiness is not enough and you need more, and that’s because as fulfilling as it is, it is limited. Jungkook is kind of wanting to settle in this moment of happiness because Lord knows how scarce this has been for him. And so, from time to time, he wants to hold on tightly to this, from fear that this might be taken away from him. But what he doesn’t realize (or know) is that the Divine has plans far, far bigger than this. This happiness will not be taken away from him, it will be magnified— should he dare to dream bigger. Right now, Jungkook’s conscious dreams and goals are not at par with what his soul had planned prior to his incarnation. He keeps limiting his goals from a lack of self worth and fear of the unknown, but he has been coming out of this energy for quite a while now, which has led him to this door of limitlessness. I’d say most of his hesitation is surrounding his Feminine because he fears if he lets go of her and focuses exclusively on himself and his life, he might lose her and mistakenly create a life where she is not with him. But the irony is that as Twin Flames, their souls have made a promise to each other: to only be with each other’s highest selves. This is why, when in their lowest selves, they repel each other and are stuck in the runner-chaser dynamic, but when operating from their higher selves, they attract each other. So to be with each other, they must be their true sovereign selves— devoid of any fear or doubts and instead, full of faith and that unconditional love that doesn’t seek to control or own but shares their own wings and flight with the other so both can fly free in a sky of infinite possibilities. Therefore, what Jungkook sees as letting go of her, is just him letting go of her illusion— she does not exist in that limited realm anymore. This is why Jungkook feels his fear of losing her slowly fading. As their souls are connected, it is simply an energetic reaction to her levelling up. This is the beauty of this connection— if one sets themselves free, the other will feel that urgency to follow suit, whether it makes sense or not. As his Feminine surrenders herself to the Divine, Jungkook is feeling this sense of surrender washing upon him too. Yet, his mind continues to challenge this phenomenon, wanting to stay back just a bit longer. However, given how long he has been in the healing, his mind is only putting up a weak fight; the surrender looms stronger. He is answering to his inner call, trusting that what he wants will not pass him by.

Another upcoming theme in his life is “explorer of the world”. In the last few years, Jungkook has been, knowingly or unknowingly, in the process of integrating 5D energy into his being. As this integration is complete, he will feel a strong urge to explore life, because this integration will feel like a rebirth or as if he has been transplanted with a new set of eyes and the world as he knew earlier, seems so different. Where previously, the world was a dull, colourless existence full of misery and struggle, now the world will seem bright, colourful and full of possibilities. When he has this new eyesight, he will want to re-engage with the world in a new way and re-experience it all over again. Therefore his call to “sovereignty” is a preparation for this new life. As I said earlier, his soul believes that his conscious plans are not at par with his unlimited capabilities, so this upcoming stage in his life will be about re-imagining his goals and dreams. If he could have ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING in this world, what are the things would he truly want? So far Jungkook’s goals have been very practical and dare I say, from a lack mindset where he focused more on what is practically possible and what is not. Still, it’s because of his sincerity and purity of heart that the Divine has blessed him with so much more than what he had originally expected. Therefore so far, his achievements have been more of a Divine intervention than a conscious creation on his part— kind of like, wow, big things happened and let me just roll with it and work hard to keep them going. That reality is now ending for him. Through his Twin Flame connection that gives him so much happiness, the Divine is now asking him to be a conscious creator. It’s like holding up a shiny toy in front of him like, you want this? You want to have exactly what you want? Then get comfortable being a sovereign creator. Of course, he will still be supported by the Divine because his soul has literally signed up to be in this role. The only thing that is standing between his present self and the self that gets everything he wants is Faith— faith in his own abilities to navigate his own path to his own highest self, and faith in a higher Divine guardianship that is always, always watching over him, protecting him, guiding him, always ready to give him whatever support he needs. As long as he places his faith in any other person of this world, no matter how capable they are, he will keep hitting a wall, because it’s now time for him to be his own guide with support straight from the Divine. This includes his Feminine— powerful as she is in her spiritual abilities, she can never replace the Divine in his life; in fact as his Divine counterpart (it’s in the name), she will always nudge him towards the Divine. The more he tries to get close to her for guidance, the more she will push him away and guide him towards the Divine. She won’t even have to do it consciously; this will happen energetically.

Jungkook has been yearning to manifest his Twin Flame connection into an earthly relationship as fast as possible, but the Divine is like, are you sure you know exactly what you want? Because it’s not just about a person, it’s also about everything else in the relationship. And what about your life? Do you know exactly what you want in life? Jungkook’s manifestations are actually being delayed because his soul had made far bigger plans for his life and is like, nah uh, your earthly plans are wee compared to mine, and is egging him on to expand his consciousness beyond his perceived limits. His connection is not manifesting because this alone time is meant for him to re-evaluate his goals and plans. Like I said, so far, Jungkook has been in the habit of planning practically. This time, armed with an open heart space and a limitless consciousness, he will be able to foresee his life more clearly and more in alignment with his soul plan. His manifestations are being delayed not because the Divine doesn’t support him, but because the Divine refuses to let him settle for anything less than he deserves. To top it off, the Divine wants him to have the pleasure of co-creating all of this as a conscious creator. This is that unconditional love that he has been seeking from his Feminine and yet is rejecting from the Divine, not realizing that that is where this love flows from.

So, as soon as that final door opens, he will find himself in an exciting adventure of literally creating and building a new life for himself— all from what he wants and what makes him happy, rather than what he was told was possible or impossible. As they say, the sky will be the limit for him— the sky will be his huge canvas for him to fill with every colour and pattern that he wants his life to be filled with, right from the tiniest, silliest things to jaw-droppingly grand ones. It’s an open ended question with unlimited potential: what does he want? Does he want to be the king of the world? Or maybe he wants to go to a small seaside village, swim with the sharks, sleep under the stars and write poetry by the fire? Or maybe he wants to dive into world music, make little playlists and fall in love with the idea of love itself? It’s a main character energy he will be getting into where he explores life again, but this time with joy and bliss in his heart instead of fear and limits. Maybe he doesn’t see it yet but this “alone” (I mean separate from his Feminine) time is crucial because 1) how disappointing it would be if he ended up manifesting a life that doesn’t have everything that he would want, simply because he did not put in the time to think of everything he wants, and 2) this little adventure will lead him to himself like no one else ever can. Okay, so flashback, one of the first things I noticed about Jungkook is his self denial. I mean in a world full of narcissists, it is refreshing to see someone who doesn’t think he’s all that lol, but it is also sad because self denial is not the same as humility. Jungkook doesn’t have imposter syndrome either, much less even being an imposter, no, he’s always himself, but it’s more like he doesn’t completely put himself out there. Ad I don’t mean in the privacy kind of way, that is different, but Jungkook holds back from a very deep sense of something like “I’m not all that amazing to be putting myself out there so much”. Maybe he even thinks that he’s “too much”. It’s a miracle that even after holding back so much, what we see of him still impresses and amazes us, but it’s like, there’s so much more where that came from! I always feel like I have to look at him through a magnifying glass because of how much of himself he holds back, and yet it’s contradictory because his energy is so strong! Therefore I believe it’s more of a conscious habit to constantly “hide” even when he is in full show. This definitely stems from his harsh self judgment. I do see him coming out of this mindset, but the flip side of this is overgiving and overdoing to a point of being performative. So even when you think he is giving his 100%, most of the time he is performing. What I mean by this is, he might DO 100% (or even 200%), but he isn’t BEING 100%. The problem with this is that no matter how much you do, you will come across as “not enough” because you’re not being your whole self. In spirituality these days, there is a lot of emphasis on being and rightly so, because being a 100% will naturally attract things to you that doing a lot more than that won’t. This is why this upcoming phase of his life where he exclusively explores his own mind and his own life will help him gather all of his scattered bits and pieces so he can be a 100% wherever he goes and whatever he does. Because the only time he is able to be 100% is when he lives from a place of joy and bliss. This is also why he craves his Feminine so much— doing even the littlest, most random things for and with her makes him feels whole and complete, because he does these things straight from the heart, with joy. But this is only a temporary fix and also toxic because she can’t keep making him complete; it’s draining for her if it turns into her responsibility. Instead, if he focuses on making himself whole, whatever she does for and with him will feel even more joyful because it’s freeing. And also, no matter how amazing your goals and plans are for life, the most important element to enjoy life is you— if you do not feel whole and complete, no matter where you go, who you are with, and how great of a person they are, you will still feel empty. The Divine said that’s not going to happen with Jungkookie lol. So yes, in the near future, you will find him focusing on this area of his life. The era of “holding back” Jungkook will soon be over, and given that he has been so entertaining and endearing already, God save us when he steps out in his full form, without doubts, questions, denials and also without the need to people-please an instead just being his whole complete self, secure and peaceful in the knowledge of who he is and that he always gets what he wants. It is this self-assured beingness that will give him the confidence to step forward knowing that any outer problem or resistance will have to fall back because when you’re on your Divinely destined path, literally hell and heaven both support you. Of course this is not to say that he will never face problems, that is not the point of life at all, rather he is working on being centered in himself so that no matter what the external situation is, he always knows exactly what he wants and doesn’t stop until he gets it. Jungkook 2.0 is coming soon you guys! Of course I say Jungkook 2.0 but it’s more like him going back to the point of starting his career, because that’s where he sort of started living this life. He’s going back to the wide-eyed wonder he had about this career— a place of art, beauty, creativity and love from millions. He’s going back to re-discovering the fun aspect of this life as it used to be back in the day when they were at point 0, where they had nothing to prove, no one to please and nothing to lose. Just a path of endless possibilities and the excitement of trying out new things and the pure joy they received from the love of their first batch of Armys when none of the big shots in the world was looking their way. Although that exact external situation won’t come back, he can still recreate the freshness of the inner mindset. The demand of the moment is to let go of expectations regarding outcomes and dive into the joy of creating. The Divine only has the best of rewards in store for him and won’t budge unless he aligns his conscious wants with the best. That’s all folks, I wish him well in his what I know is going to be a magnificent journey. The Feminine is just the cherry on top, but also like, the cake and the icing needs to be ready first :)

[gardenerian]

Okay, obviously I know this is all going to be subjective, but in your opinion, what were Ian's various states during s8? I tend to believe he was taking his meds and he wasn't lying when people asked him, they just weren't working anymore. At some point he stopped because he does the classic Ian evasion technique when Fiona asks about them in the beginning of s9. But when do you think they started to lose efficacy and he started showing symptoms?

whew okay. i got carried away and went all in on this - it’s longer than my 4x11 post so don’t feel obligated to read it all. let me start by saying that i have…. many gripes with how ian’s disorder is portrayed in s8/s9, but i won’t get into that here. i can only do so much in this post 😅 i’ll be examining this as if i did not have those gripes. (edit: having reread this, i could not fully commit to that…)

second - i am always down to talk about this aspect of the show but i don’t want to say that i am absolutely right! others may have different ideas/experiences/interpretations - shit, maybe i’m totally wrong and yall can correct me. let’s talk. 

with that said:

you’re right that he begins the season taking his meds and i went through the season (it was a journey) to take a closer look at when that might have changed. i think we can divide s8 into four stages for ian: stable, hypomanic and rising, manic, then delusional manic.

it’s crucial that one of our first looks at ian this season is him taking his meds, and that he’s doing it in front of his family. it’s quick and casual, a non-question for him at this point. ian’s pretty good at the start of the season (strictly in bipolar terms, lol). he’s preoccupied with trevor and monica, but he’s lucid. we see his typical petty, goofy, somewhat-naive self. the way we see him working in 8x02 - gentle, clear. and he’s introspective, aware of himself. he questions himself about monica and his feelings of grief. he knows the chub bar was… not the way to handle his emotions (not gonna go off on the other aspects of that but… yeah.) his agitation with carl in 8x02 is a manifestation of grief rather than mania - and we will see a contrast with his agitation later in the season. he’s present and capable in dealing with the meth situation - 8x03 is about the grief. 

8x04 sees ian fiddling with his meds in the kitchen - i can only assume he’s taken them. the cap is off when we first see the bottle, then he screws it back on. he’s also doing some introspection in this episode. those red shoes are the only thing i cannot explain, he’s clearly lost it with those and iM KIDDING. 

if i had to pinpoint where his meds start going off kilter, it’s 8x05/8x06. all the earlier upheaval is catching up. he’s…  intense in the second half of 8x05. ian is naturally kind of intense, but it’s clearly being amped up a little, especially once we get into the church feud. i think he’s moving swiftly into hypomania - his reaction and hesitance with the donor’s wife kinda tell me that he’s still in a pretty rational frame of mind. but. intense. a somewhat inflated sense of self. it’s starting. that rage with fiona at the end of 8x05… fiona is uh incorrect here at first but ian takes it to a v high level. he doesn’t do much in 8x06 - but that scene with fiona in the ambulance is very telling. he goes 0-100 real quick. you see his jaw twitch when she’s talking. the agitation is coursing under his skin. again, this kinda reaction comes naturally for ian but it’s like. idk, super ian?

i don’t know how to explain the ice water stuff in 8x07. idk what the fuck that’s about. but ian clearly thinks he’s in the right. and that trend continues throughout this ridiculous episode. the egging/spray painting/occupy stuff - i watched this one twice to try to decide if he’s hypomanic or manic, and it’s a tough call? he’s elevated in a noticeable way but i don’t know if i would call him impaired, which is kinda the qualifying factor for mania. either way, he’s up. obsessive thinking is a symptom of hypo/mania - and this is different from ian’s one-track mind re: trevor from earlier in the season. people who know him are starting to notice (i have a bone to pick with fiona but that’s for another time). this is not a rational way to react to anything. and his hair looks like trash. 

i think you’re right that ian is taking his meds when he’s asked (twice) - he’s offended when he’s questioned, bc he doesn’t see how things have shifted. and, to him at least, if he doesn’t notice the shift, why would anyone assume he’s unmedicated? that confrontation in the lot is enough to know that he’s on a very rapid upswing and it’s kinda hard to watch. i am once again reiterating that we have to allow agency for mentally ill people and the way he treats fiona here is unpleasant to witness. a real sign of this meteoric rise is the conversation with fi at the end of this episode. he’s latching on to what will become gay jesus (kill me) and the lucidity is slipping a bit. 

he’s moving into more severe mania in 8x08/8x09/8x10 where he finds a new hyper-fixation. the way he comes charging into the house asking for a bible and dives right into it. he probably stops taking his meds somewhere in here, too distracted by what’s going on, or too invested in the sense of purpose the mania is giving him. it’s not delusional or psychotic mania, but it’s impeding his ability to function in his day to day life, which is a key and crucial aspect for an episode to be considered mania. he’s got an incredibly inflated sense of himself here. he’s rambling, tripping over his thoughts. he’s unable to concentrate on anything else (except sex, although i would not call him hyper-sexual). the fact that lip can look at that charlie kelly style map of his and not notice that something is wrong is BONKERS. 

but... he’s not fully on board with the gay jesus thing yet. the delusion hasn’t quite taken hold. he’s manic and getting higher but he’s a little skeptical of all the attention, flattering though it may be. he knows it’s getting to be too much. he doesn’t yet have the god complex that often comes with full-blown delusional mania. holy shit but then he gets up at the end of 8x10 and delivers that rambling, cringey speech - i don’t know if it’s the high from this moment that triggers it, but it’s all over after this. like you see it in his eyes. and it’s upsetting. it’s like watching kanye west talk about anything - how are the people in the audience not horrified?

8x11/8x12, whew. your life is no longer your own, that dude says. uh, yeah. reality is over. we all know what happens next….. and the people that enabled him… what the fuck. lip, trevor, and fiona all asking each other if he’s off his meds………………………………….. um. no shit. and he doubles down on the whole thing. i feel good. and alive. that is the saddest shit ever to me. so we know he’s Straight Up Manic now. and it continues into s9 which…. i won’t go there today. and that’s s8 ian.

fin. 

(side note: watching these episodes made me homicidal but the 8x01 scene with all the gallagher brothers in the hot tub together was nice. the bar is low.)

[thedeathdeelers]

anyway so i finally finished another Juke drabble (at 12:45am on a Tuesday when I have to be up for work in 5 hours lols) based on the word prompt “Dancing” sent in by @nervousmiracletrash

the word mostly just inspired the idea for this fic - but ya. still counts :) enjoy!

(also this fic refers to a movie about a friendly ghost from 1995, so i hope it still makes sense to you even if you haven’t seen it)

Now also up on my AO3

————

childhood crushes

“So you’re sure it’s in one of these?”

Julie’s eyes remained focused on the notebook balanced on her knee, skimming through the never ending lines of poems and lyrics covering every page as she answered Luke.

“Yes! I swear, I remember working on something similar with my mom a few years before she- A few years ago. If we can find it, we won’t have to start from scratch.”

Feeling a little stiff, Julie leaned back, her eyes never leaving the pages, as she rested against the foot of her bed, stretching her legs out in front of her. They had been sitting on her bedroom floor all morning, surrounded by piles of scattered old notebooks of varying colours.

“I know, but we’ve been up here for ages and we haven’t even taken any breaks yet.” She could almost hear Luke’s pout as he continued, sitting cross legged and leaning against her closet door. “I’m nearly done with my stack. Maybe we should just consider focusing on one of our other songs for now? Come back to this one later?”

Julie shook her head as she looked up, her eyes needing a second to readjust.

“I’m telling you Luke, we’ll find it. I won’t be able to work on anything else unless I get this melody out of my head. I know I can find the lyrics. They’re definitely here. Plus we’ve pretty much gone through the majority of my notebooks - there’s barely a few left. We’ll be done before it’s time to head down for band rehearsal, chill.”

Without waiting for a reply, Julie lowered her gaze back down, quickly finding her spot on the page she was in and resuming her search. Luke shook his head at the stubborn girl sitting across from him, a small smile touching his lips. He knew there was no point in arguing with a Julie that had already set her mind to something. Adjusting his sitting position to avoid cramping (who knew ghosts still had to deal with pins and needles, eh?), he dived back into the book in his lap.

It stayed quiet for a while after that, only sounds of paper crinkling under fingers, and soft whispers of words being spoken disturbing the peace.

That is, until disaster struck.

“Uh, Jules, why does this notebook have “Julie hearts Casper” written all over it?”

Julie was so focused on the poem she was reading, that Luke’s words took a few good seconds to fully sink in. But when they did, her head snapped up while her heart sank, the blood draining from her face. It would have been funny if she wasn’t the one panicking right now. Her eyes, now as wide as saucers, zeroed in on the offending journal, balanced on Luke’s left knee. She had completely forgotten about that.

“It’s nothing! Nothing just a- a- a pet’s name! Yes! We had a dog named uh Casper and I really loved him.”

She scrambled up, the notebook she had been so focused on only a few moments ago hitting the floor with a soft thud. She quickly reached Luke’s side, swiping the journal off his knee and out of his reach.

“I thought you guys never had any pets? What with your dad’s allergies?”

Julie froze on her way back to her spot by her bed, having completely forgotten that her dad, who she’s literally known her whole life, was allergic to dogs. Trust Luke to remember that tiny, throwaway detail, but completely “forget” that her dream box was out of bounds.

She slowly resumed her half hop trek to her spot, avoiding the minefield of papers and journals, making sure Luke couldn’t see her face for as long as possible. Her mind, on the other hand, was busy hastily trying to come up with a plausible excuse.

“Yeah, we uh- we had Casper for a week before we found out Dad was allergic. Had to give him away after that.” Julie held the journal tight against her chest as she turned back around to face Luke now that she was at a safe distance.

Luke’s eyebrows lifted, disappearing under his beanie. The disbelief on his face was palpable. He could always see straight through her.

“So you’re telling me that your dad didn’t know he was allergic to dogs until he was in his thirties?”

“He was still in his late twenties, thank you very much!”

“Jules, you know that’s not my point.”

“The point is we had a dog, I loved him very much and then he was gone. It was a sad time, can we just move on?”

He was still looking at her sceptically, but nodded his head regardless, diverting his attention to the dwindling pile of notebooks yet to be explored, spread out on the floor next to him.

Julie was just glad Luke hadn’t noticed the little ghost doodles decorating the spine of the notebook. She plopped back onto the floor, sneakily pushing the accursed nightmare under her bed.

It was only half an hour later however, just as her heart had finally reached a normal tempo, when Luke spoke up again.

“So, Casper huh? You guys really named a dog after a ghost?”

Trying hard not to groan out loud, Julie forced her features to adapt a natural expression, before lifting her face towards her band mate.

“Yes. Mom had just introduced me to the movie, and the name was still fresh in my mind.” She could see that he was still not buying her story, but there was nothing she could do. She was definitely not about to spill the truth to him.

Luke scratched his head, his beanie shifting with the movement.

“I see. So the little ghost doodles down the side there, have nothing to do with the actual friendly ghost? The one from the Casper movie released in the summer of 1995?” He was pointing in the general direction of where she had thought she had managed to carefully dispose of the journal. Apparently not.

Julie could feel her cheeks getting warmer, and curse it all, Luke had definitely noticed. That damn smirk.

“Not to mention the ghost painted on the back pocket of your favourite pair of jeans.”

She threw her head back, bouncing slightly against her mattress as her hands flew up to hide her warm face. Luke chuckled.

“Fine! This is mortifying, but fine! I had a crush on Casper as a kid, okay? Happy?” Her voice came out muffled, her palms pressing hard against the horrified expression taking centre stage.

But not even a few seconds later, did she feel hands wrapping themselves around her wrists and pulling her fingers away from her face. She hadn’t even heard him move. She kept her eyes closed, scrunching her eyelids together as tightly as she could. Maybe if she thought of it hard enough, her carpeted flooring would eventually swallow her up?

“So, you had a thing for ghosts, huh?”

She could hear the barely suppressed glee in his voice, making her eyes pop open in disbelief.

“Ugh! This is why I don’t tell you everything!” Now that her eyes were open, she didn’t know where to look. Maybe over his left shoulder?

A soft chuckle made its way out of his mouth.

“Aw, come on Julie! This is actually pretty cute. Kinda feels like fate, huh?”

“Really?” She deadpanned. Her eyes diverted to his face of their own accord.

“I mean, he’s a ghost from a movie from the 90s, the girl has the hots for him even though he’s clearly dead...I’m getting similar vibes here.”

“He was just a floating orb!”

He tried to cut her off with a sly “As opposed to cute air?” But she continued speaking over him, wanting to defend her old childhood crush.

“It was an emotional connection. A deep connection, exploring different emotions and representations of love, resulting in some pretty iconic lines and moments in the movie.” She sounded a little hysterical, a little ridiculous. But the whole situation she currently found herself in was ridiculous in and of itself, so there really wasn’t much pride left for her to hold onto anymore.

Luke hummed at her reply, his eyes brimming with humour.

“Thought about it a lot, have you?”

“Ugh! You’re impossible. Fine. You might as well know. It was my favourite movie for a long time. I’d watch it whenever I was having a bad day or whatever.” She shrugged, casting her eyes downwards towards her lap where their hands lay; his fingers still locked around her wrists. She knew she wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Was?”

“Yeah, well...It started hitting too close to home a few years ago so I just.. stopped.”

Understanding dawned on him, as she felt more than saw, the energy leave him in one fell swoop. She chanced another look at his eyes, and saw that the humour previously taken up residence had now shifted to something softer.

“Julie I- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that, I-“

“No, no Luke really. It’s fine. I’m okay now. I haven’t felt the need to watch any comfort movies or shows lately anyway. Maybe I’ll even revisit it sometime soon, who knows. See it with a fresh set of eyes.” She gave him a small smile as she tilted her head to the side. “Honestly, don’t worry about it.” After a beat of silence, Julie grasped at the chance to steer the conversation away from anymore embarrassing questions.

“Do you think we could stop looking through these for now? I’m getting hungry, and it’s nearly time for practice so...” She gestured towards the mess on her floor.

“Yeah, of course.” Luke looked at her for another second, checking that she really was okay, before letting go of her wrists and jumping up. He then extended his hand down to her, waiting to pull her up with him.

As she got up, she couldn’t help but appreciate how sensitive Luke could be when it came to her feelings. She reached up on her tiptoes, and sneaked a quick peck on his cheek, before pulling him along with her, leaving the mess of notebooks (and hopefully that whole topic of conversation) behind them.

A few days had passed, and Luke hadn’t brought up the movie again. She had assumed he had forgotten, or at least accepted the fact that he wasn’t going to get much more out of her concerning that topic. Or maybe he even felt bad. But then a week later, while Julie was sat in the studio on her own (a rare occurrence), she was proven wrong.

She was sat on one of the armchairs, scribbling away furiously in their songbook, inspiration having finally struck. She was so focused, her hands gliding through the page as she hurried to get every word down, that she barely glanced at Luke when he popped into existence to her right.

She didn’t even notice when he moved to stand in front of her, knees nearly knocking into hers.

“Okay! So I finally figured out the second vers-“ Julie looked up, stopping mid-sentence as she finally took in the sight of the boy standing in front of her.

“Can I have this dance?”

“Luke? Why are you dressed like that?”

“Humour me, Julie. Dance with me?”

The fact that there was no music currently playing was on the tip of her tongue, but Julie held back. She takes a few seconds to reply though, too busy drinking in the sight in front of her. He had his hand outstretched towards her, dressed in black pants and a white dress-shirt. She was hyper aware of the fact that he was dressed in the near exact way she had imagined him during her imaginary Perfect Harmony routine. The only difference was his hair - but she had to concede to the fact that he looked better this way. It was 100% Luke, and she wouldn’t have him any other way.

Putting her notebook with the pencil tucked inside on the coffee table to her right, she reaches over towards Luke, taking his proffered hand.

He pulls her up, just like he did in her bedroom the other day, and guides her to the centre of the studio. They stand there, staring at each other for a few seconds before a song starts playing on the old garage stereo - the same one that had brought them, him , to her in the first place.

every now and then,

we find a special friend,

who never lets us down

who understands it all

reaches out each time we fall

you’re the best friend that i’ve found

I know you can’t stay,

a part of you will never ever go away,

your heart will stay

Luke reaches over to grab her other hand, lifting both up to his shoulders. Once settled, he lets go and finds her waist, pulling her in a little closer. Following his lead, Julie wraps her arms around his neck, her eyes focused solely on his. She listens to the song that is playing, gently swaying from side to side with the boy in her arms.

She cocks her head to the side as she tries to figure out why the melody and words sounded so familiar to her.

“This song sounds so familiar? Like I’ve heard it so many times but I just can’t place...” As her sentence dies on her lips, a small gasp is heard escaping her. Julie’s eyes widen as memories of her younger self listening to this song and swaying along in her mother’s arms flood her mind.

cAll the while, Luke’s eyes are intent on hers, reading her reactions. His hands resting on her hips, slide past her hips towards her lower back, his arms fully wrapping themselves around her, pulling her closer to his chest.

“You didn’t!” Her eyes still wide, still unbelieving.

“I figured of all the things I could actually accomplish as a ghost, any childhood dreams you might have had - this might actually be it.” He shrugged, his shoulders moving under her hands. His grin turned boyish. “Plus I didn’t like the idea of another ghost having a hold on your heart.”

Julie has to try hard to focus on the questions she wanted answered, and not on his sweet confessions.

“But- I assumed you guys never got to watch the movie? It came out around the time you were too focused on the band and the gigs, and then...” She let the rest of her sentence trail off, never too comfortable mentioning their early demise.

“I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.” She felt his shoulders shift up and down again. He shook his head at her as he continued. “I gotta say Jules, you really know how to pick ‘em.” She could see the mirth brimming in his eyes, his lips twitching as he tried to keep his amusement under control.

Julie’s eyes narrowed at him, even as she tried to keep her own smile from forming on her lips.

“Girls are all about that star crossed lovers’ life. Add in a dash of supernatural? Absolute dream.” She moved her hand, gesturing wildly to convey her (ridiculous, but secretly truthful) point.

Luke chuckled at that, the laughter finally spilling out of him.

“Lucky for me then, eh?”

Julie’s eyes softened, her mouth curling into that special smile she only ever reserved for him. She stood on her tiptoes, her lips a hair’s breadth away from his.

“Who said I wasn’t the lucky one?”

They stayed that way for a few seconds, still moving slowly from side to side as they stared at each other. They were so close they were breathing the same air. And just when Julie was about to close the distance, Luke shifted, tracing his lips across her cheek, her jaw, until they hovered by her ear, warm breath sending shivers down her spine.

And then he whispered to her the four words she had been dreaming of hearing ever since she was a little girl.

“Can I keep you?”

FIN