#I’ve been meaning to try doing a cityscape like this for ages

[flamet-draws]

Mechtober 2024 Day 6: Song

Well obviously I’m gonna do something based on Trial By Song

[mae-i-scribble]

I’ve been thinking so much about how ASTV goes out of its way to set up Miles and Gwen as both parallel and directly opposing each other throughout the entire film and going just a little feral so now I am subjecting my essay upon the internet.

First off we have the direct comparisons that can be made between Miles and Gwen as people, the way they both use that awful fake low voice to disguise themselves. Both of them have fathers that are in the police force who were at one point staunchly against spider-man and to whom they have to conceal themselves from. Both of them started out as superheroes around the same age. Both are established as people who despite having support groups around them who support them (miles and ganke plus his parents, gwen with her band and her dad (here on a technicality)) to be desperately lonely people because they can never discuss who they are in full with anyone, and who in turn feel a special connection with each other because of all these similarities in their unique situations. Both of them are also painted as anomalies, with Gwen being a Gwen Stacy who exists outside of the ‘girlfriend who tragically dies’ role given to her other universe counterparts (this may change in BTSV based on some creator statements but for now its all we have to go off of). And Miles, the kid who was never meant to become spider-man but who excelled at the role. Both of them are extremely skilled superheroes who keep up with the older veterans despite their age too.

And then we have some of the hard hitting differences. The polar opposite relationship these two have with both their fathers and with family in general. Even as spider-man, Miles has kept a good rapport up with his father and the police, if met with a little more annoyance from the police. Gwen on the other hand, has been hunting down like a criminal for most of her vigilante life, doubly so by her own father who even when confronted with the fact that his daughter is spider-woman, tries to lock her up anyways. Something we know with absolute certainty Miles’ dad would not do. Gwen’s dad is also the only family she has left, and even before that it seems that her support group was very small and limited to Peter and Aunt May. On the other hand Miles has both his parents and a lot of people he can at least call acquaintances (we see this in the first movie as he has always been a bit of a people person, well loved at his old school). We also see a stark difference in how they would have handled being told they couldn’t use the watches to visit. Gwen, clearly afraid of losing the one safe space she has left, keeps in line regardless of her own feelings because she cannot risk it. Miles, on the other hand, had he been put in a position to join spider-society before Gwen, would have gone to see her by any means- he was already trying to see both her and Peter from his own dimension.

There are some other scenes and visuals that also continue this trend, screencaps and explanations of those below the readmore.

First off we have the visual contrast between Miles and Gwen’s respective dimensions. Gwen’s world is a blur of color, the cityscape blends together only to focus on the things Gwen cares about. It’s painted together.

Miles’ world, on the other hand, while having a slight blur that is reminiscent of older comics, stands out much more sharply. And while not as distinctly colorful as Gwen’s world, its a much brighter take on our everyday reality (mostly this one shot is not the best example).

When Miles and Gwen first meet and start talking on the bank building, this shot happens. As Gwen sits with a backdrop of shadows we pan up to see Miles standing, the archway giving him the bright backdrop of sky. Right here, as they talk about what could happen if Miles’ were to reveal his identity, visually they are on two opposite sides of one story to reflect how ideologically separated they are on this topic. There’s a physical divide between them. This is coupled by the way ATSV uses the imagery of people being oriented in different directions to show their separation. It’s used in the promo art for Miles vs spider-society, and twice in relation to Miles and Gwen specifically.

But despite their vastly different experiences, the way that their lives have played out so differently, they still have a connection, shown by the way that Miles gets down to match Gwen’s perspective. He literally meets her at her level, and by doing so they get a view that only the two of them can share. Miles is what brings them back onto the same parallel track by orienting himself to match Gwen. That divide doesn’t exist anymore.

This one is less meaningful I just kinda thought it was cute how they essentially had the same reaction to watching the Spot’s plan play out.

The most meaningful shot in this scene though once more brings back the separation via oriented in opposite directions though. The backdrop behind them is open, connecting them together, and they’re on the same level face to face. However, Miles is upside down. Rather than Gwen being the one in strong disagreement, now Miles is with the fact that Gwen would choose to abandon him without telling him anything. And unlike Miles, Gwen doesn’t have the chance to try and see it from his perspective.

The last point I want to bring up is two paralleled shots in the movie. The first being when Miles catches Gwen with his web when she falls in Mumbattan. Here, the only thing that makes the web snap is when Miles’ starts glitching, literally the only thing the could have made him drop her is the universe itself interfering.

Vs when Gwen returns the favor in Nueva York. Only this time it isn’t about the universe interfering, it’s about how she’s lost Miles’ trust so completely, so utterly, that he would rather break off this connection himself than have Gwen save him.

All these things come together to just break my heart over what’s happened to their friendship- I really want some solid resolution to just how much both Gwen and Peter have hurt Miles in the next movie. But also the levels this movie goes to show just how these two are connected to make their intense bond over such a short period more believable is just superior film making at its best. If anyone has more examples I didn’t point out here please let me know I would love to see them.

[hopelesshawks]

Love and Admiration Part 19- Goodnight Princess

18+ Bakugo x fem!pro hero reader

Summary: (Y/n) has known Bakugo since middle school, admired him since high school, and had a crush on him since the first time they met. Even now, a top pro hero in her own right, she can’t shake her school girl crush. Too bad Bakugo literally has no idea she exists. Well that’s not entirely true… He does know pro hero Mercury exists, but (y/l/n) (y/n)? Never heard of her.

Warnings for brief depiction of sexual harassment (not from Bakugo), unprotected sex, fingering, oral (female receiving), degradation, praise kink, dacryphilia (crying kink), overstimulation, and dirty talk

Masterlist Help Lulu <3

As you walk up to the AHA building you spot Aizawa talking to a man with his back to you in a black bomber jacket, a white hood pulled over the back, with a black baseball cap on. Curiosity drives your feet forward a little faster until you get close enough that recognition finally hits and causes you to slow down again. Even with his back to you you’d recognize Bakugo Katsuki anywhere. Part of you wants to turn around and run home, message Aizawa some half hearted excuse about getting tied up in a villain attack and no longer being able to help out. Before you can though Aizawa notices your arrival and waves you over. “Here’s who you’ll be working with,” you hear your former teacher tell Bakugo and just as it sinks in that Bakugo was also clueless as to who he’d been working with, he turns around to see and your heart skips a beat. Yes he looks unfairly attractive the way he always does but what really caught your attention is his outfit. Right there in the center of his white hoodie is a black Mercury symbol, the same symbol stamped somewhere on almost all your merch and the same one you’ve been using as your profile picture on social media since your debut. Bakugo follows your gaze down to the incriminating symbol, his cheeks going bright red. He mutters out an excuse about tossing bags in the car so he can turn away although you’re a little surprised when he extends his hand out to you expectantly. You consider the man in front of you who still won’t meet your gaze. Hurt still burns unpleasantly in your chest but you hand over your duffel bag and with little more than a sheepish glance and nod as acknowledgment, Bakugo moves to the trunk of the car to load it up. “You and Bakugo can handle this right? I saw the news call you a dynamic duo so,” Aizawa asks and you nod immediately. “Yea, we’ve got this. You got nothing to worry about,” you assure the older man. “Good. Get into town, get some rest, one of the local heroes will fill you in on the situation in the morning,” he explains. You nod your understanding and then go to join Bakugo in the car. Once you’re settled in, Bakugo starts up the engine and pulls off into the night.

The silence is awkward. You stare out the window as the cityscape slowly starts to thin out. Once Bakugo pulls the car out onto the highway it doesn’t take long before you’re leaving the city lights behind entirely. When the silence becomes too oppressive you pop open the glove box and root around until you find a USB port. You use your phone charger to plug in your phone, scroll through to one of your chiller playlists, and press play. Music floats through the speakers and you feel yourself relaxing although a quick glance at Bakugo reveals he doesn’t feel the same. He’d discarded his jacket in the backseat once he’d gotten in the car and, as usual, had pushed the long sleeves of the hoodie up to his elbows. As a result it’s easy to see the tense line of his shoulders and the popping veins in his forearms. His grip on the steering wheel is so tight his knuckles are almost white. You’ll be genuinely surprised if there aren’t permanent indentations of his fingers in the steering wheel by the time you two reach your destination. You’re tempted to just let him stew in whatever emotions he’s feeling at seeing you again for the first time since you’d hooked up, but then your eyes fall on where your hero name is written on the sleeve of his hoodie and you decide you’re feeling just generous enough to break the silence.

“You’re wearing the hoodie I got you.”

“Yea.”

“Why?”

Bakugo’s hands somehow tighten even more on the steering wheel before he bites out “Because I like it,” defensively. You roll your eyes and return your gaze to the window. No one can say you didn’t try. You’re about to give up and lament your fate to the groupchat when you hear Bakugo sigh next to you. “That’s not it. I mean I do like it but I didn’t think your dumb ass was gonna be here and it’s not the only reason,” Bakugo confesses. “Insulting me is not a strong start but what’s the other reason?” you ask. The pause is long before Bakugo speaks up again to admit, “I’ve missed you.” The incredulous look you give him almost makes him wince. “You’re the one who stopped messaging me you asshole!” “I know that!” “Then you don’t get to miss me!” “Well I don’t know what the fuck to tell you cause I do!” “Then why’d you ghost me?” “I panicked!”

Both of you go silent after that particular admission. This time it’s Bakugo who speaks up to break it. “Look I don’t date,” he sighs. “Who the fuck said I wanted to date you?” you ask defensively, your cheeks heating up the slightest bit. “Will you shut the fuck up? I’m trying to apologize.” “Apologize better.” “If you shut the fuck up I will.” “I don’t think apologies are supposed to include telling the other person to shut the fuck up.” “I’m trying here (y/l/n),” Bakugo growls and the almost desperate edge to his voice is enough to make you swallow your next retort, instead motioning for him to continue. “I don’t date and I don’t usually fuck people I enjoy having around. I already fucked up with you enough so I didn’t want to do it again. I panicked and that only made shit worse until I didn’t know how to fix it, ok? People care about me and I’m shit to them, that’s just how it goes. I’m sorry you got caught up in it,” he finally admits.

You weren’t expecting that level of honesty from him, nor were you expecting his answer to be so vulnerable. You turn to face him as much as you can within the confines of the seat of the car and take in his body language. Had he always been this insecure about his relationships with the people around him? Maybe if you hadn’t spent years cataloging his every move and expression from afar you would’ve missed it, but looking at him now he looks cracked open. You get the distinct impression that as small as his list of people he likes is, the list of people he’s allowed to see him like this is even smaller. “That’s not true,” you offer but that only makes Bakugo scoff. “It’s not!” you insist. “I don’t need your fucking pity,” he grumbles. “Jesus Christ you really are an idiot. Midoriya, Kirishima, and Denki all have plenty of other friends asshole. If what you said were true they would’ve dumped you a long time ago so cut the pity party bullshit and give me a real fucking apology so I can forgive you already,” you insist, and it reminds you a little of how he’d encouraged you during the reunion. The glance he shoots you is calculating, as if trying to assess how much you mean those words. “You’re going to forgive me?” he asks skeptically. “With an actual apology? Yea. I swear to god you’re the only one who still sees you as the same person you were when we first got to UA,” you reply with a roll of your eyes. “I’m sorry for ghosting you,” he grumbles out, cheeks slightly flushed as he does so. “Good. You’re forgiven. Now what songs should I play the rest of the drive?”

The ride gets a lot easier after that. You’ve missed Bakugo and it’s nice slipping back into the groove the two of you seem to have with each other. He talks shit about your song choices but you still catch him humming along or tapping the steering wheel to the beat a few times. He reveals he got around to finishing your favorite movie and so you guys spend a long time talking about that and your recommendations for other movies going forward. It’s comfortable and before you know it Bakugo is driving past the welcome sign for the tiny town the two of you will be working in. There’s only one hotel. It’s small and could probably use some updating but it’ll do just fine for the short duration of your trip. As the two of you grab your bags and start to head inside Bakugo asks “What are the odds the old man sprung for us to get our own rooms?” “Doubtful, you know the association is cheap as fuck. It has to be. You’re stuck with me,” you tease. “Guess that ain’t so bad,” Bakugo shrugs, which causes your heart to pound a little harder in your chest. “I’ll check us in if you wanna grab some shit from the vending machine,” Bakugo offers and you easily agree, the two of you heading in opposite directions to complete your tasks.

As you make your way over to the vending machine you catch the attention of a middle aged man, likely another guest, who follows you over that direction. “Well hello beautiful, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing around here?” he calls as he makes his way over. You roll your eyes but otherwise ignore him as you instead focus on selecting something from the machine in front of you. “C’mon hot stuff, don’t ignore me. I can tell you’re a big city chick, probably been around the block right? What’s one more?” he insists, sliding his body in front of you. “Do you mind? I’m trying to grab something,” you reply as levelly as possible. It’s moments like this where you hate the spotlight of heroism. You would love nothing more than to make the man blocking your way move but that would be unbecoming of a role model for future generations. “Aww don’t be like that doll, lighten up,” the man grins before having the audacity to move away from the vending machine just enough to smack your ass. You are livid, your hand immediately grasping hold of his wrist to stop him from touching you again. You whirl on him to tell him off but before you can he’s being wrenched out of your grip and violently tossed to the floor. Before you can even fully process what’s happened Bakugo stands like a wall between you, all fury and fire and brimstone. You haven’t seen him this angry in a very long time and even if the man who’d been hitting on you doesn’t know who Bakugo is, the glare and overall body language is still enough to have him cowering at Bakugo’s feet. “If you ever fucking touch her again, if you so much as fucking look at her, I will make you wish you were never fucking born,” Bakugo growls out and god maybe you do have a murder boner like Nejire said because you should not find any of this hot but you definitely do. The older man scrambles to his feet with a nod and runs off with barely a glimpse behind him and certainly not one in your direction, allowing you and Bakugo to heave a sigh of relief. “I know you had that handled but dude pissed me off,” Bakugo explains. His voice is still rough and anger-laden and you try to ignore the way it sends shivers down your spine. “Thanks Bakugo,” you reply, grateful both for his defense of you and his acknowledgment that you don’t need defending. “Katsuki,” he corrects you immediately. “What?” “You’re not mad at me anymore right?” “No?” “Then call me Katsuki,” he insists gruffly. You can only nod in response, afraid that if you open your mouth something embarrassing will come out of it like how incredibly fucking hot it was watching him defend you or how saying his first name right now is bringing back a few too many memories of when he’d first demanded you use his first name in the alley.

Bakugo leads you to your room as you try in vain to rein in your rampant thoughts. Even as you finally arrive all you can think about is the feeling of his lips on yours, the feeling of him filling you up, and what it was like to, for a moment, be the sole owner of his attention. He tosses his stuff on his bed and sits down as you move towards your own but your mind insists on picturing him fucking you relentlessly into it. “What’s up with your face dumbass?” Bakugo suddenly asks and the question makes you jump about a foot in the air, warmth filling your cheeks as you realize you’ve been caught mid-fantasy. “Nothing is up with my face!” you defend and you hope it’s the truth because you can feel how much wetness has pooled in your panties already. Bakugo rises up and stalks towards you and you can’t help but feel like prey, stepping backwards away from him until he’s got you crowded up against the wall. The similarity to that day in the alley is not lost on you and it only makes things worse. “What’s running through that head of yours princess?” he asks and the nickname is too much, a breathless curse slipping past your lips unbidden. You don’t have much time to be embarrassed by how obviously flustered you’re getting because one of Katsuki’s hands finds your waistband as if on instinct at the sound of you breathless. “If you don’t stop I won’t be able to hold back,” he admits and you can tell by the flush in his cheeks that he means it. “I thought you don’t sleep with people you like,” you reply with bated breath. “You’re the exception,” he growls out, pressing closer before seeming to think better of it and closing his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose as if trying desperately to control himself, before adding “if you want to be.” “God yes,” you reply and no sooner have the words left your mouth is he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips as if he’s been quietly suffocating and you’re the last bit of oxygen left.

Katsuki tugs you away from the wall and you go easily, allowing him to push you towards your mattress until you’re lying down on it and he can comfortably hover over you, his lips barely leaving yours the entire time. It doesn’t take long to get you both down to your underwear, the entire process a blur. “You’re such a fucking mess for me princess,” Bakugo practically purrs as he runs his fingers along the damp fabric of your panties. Your hips buck up into the attention eagerly as you nod your agreement at the statement. “Yea, it’s only for you,” you tell him breathlessly and it might’ve been embarrassing if not for the way it draws a deep, satisfied growl from Katsuki’s chest his mouth dropping to your neck and then your chest and working further and further down. “Think you deserve a better apology then I gave you in the car,” he says suddenly looking up the length of your body to find your eyes. “What do you mean?” you ask with what little breath you have in your lungs. “I’ve always been better at doing shit than talking. You thought that apology before was good just wait,” he grins up at you cockily and it already has your stomach doing somersaults even before his teeth find the waistband of your panties and start tugging them down your legs. The moan you release at the sight is completely unfettered as your already dripping wet pussy clenches desperately around nothing. Katsuki is nothing if not a tease so even once he’s done with your panties he doesn’t immediately head to the main course. He lavishes attention on your inner thighs, leaving countless hickeys in his wake but no matter how much you whine and squirm he shows no signs of moving his mouth to where you really want it. “Katsuki,” you finally whine desperately. “What is it princess?” he asks and you can feel him smirking against you, the bastard. “I don’t think apologies are supposed to be teasing like this,” you pant. “Oh really now? You got something to say about my apology princess?” Bakugo asks, the smirk sliding away. “I think you’re not much better at this kind of apology than spoken ones.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

“I didn’t realize my princess was such a whore. You want my mouth that bad? You want to cum that bad?” Katsuki asks and there’s an edge to his voice you’re pretty sure means trouble for you but you nod anyway. “Please Katsuki.” “Well if my princess wants to be a greedy fucking slut then so be it,” he agrees in that same lethal tone before diving in to devour you with an intense voracity you’re unprepared for. You moan loudly, hands grasping hard onto the blankets as he licks a hard swipe all the way from your twitching hole to your sensitive clit before pulling the nub into his mouth and sucking hard. He continues to lave attention on your sensitive clit even as he shoves two fingers into your dripping cunt and starts setting a brutal pace. Eventually he brings his free hand to take over for his mouth and stimulate your clit while he moves his tongue to join his fingers, stuffing you absolutely full. The attention is almost overwhelming and it isn’t long until you’re seeing stars, crying out Katsuki’s name. As you come down from your high you realize Katsuki is still pumping his fingers slowly in and out of you. “Katsu- ah!” you cut yourself off with a shout as he resumes massaging your swollen clit. “S-slow down,” you moan but if anything it only makes him move his fingers more aggressively. You grit your teeth, grasping the blankets even more tightly. “What’s wrong? Thought you wanted this,” he taunts as he pushes you into your second orgasm of the night.

Your entire body is tingling now, thoughts filled only with Katsuki, but he still hasn’t stopped and you’ve never been so overstimulated in your life. “Kas’ki ‘s too much,” you moan, eyes watering as he continues to relentlessly massage your almost painfully sensitive clit. “Don’t tell me my greedy little slut is done already. I still haven’t filled you up yet,” he teases you as he finally removes his finger only to line his dick up with your entrance instead. “Come on baby, I think you’ve got one more in you. Don’t you want to be good for me?” he asks and every inch of your body is saying that you should tap out but instead you find yourself nodding. “Use your words baby.” “Wanna be good for you,” you pant and the devilish grin you get in response has your heart practically in your throat. Slowly but surely Bakugo starts pushing into you. It’s so much, too much, stimulation but even as tears start to run down your cheeks you can’t bring yourself to tell him to stop. He curses under his breath as he finally bottoms out inside you, taking a moment to collect himself so it won’t be over too soon. As he starts moving he lavishes you with praise while all you can do is whine and whimper, alternating between barely intelligible expressions of how fucking good it all feels and broken cries of his name. “God you look so fucking beautiful like this. You know that? Fucking gorgeous,” he groans as his hips move faster and faster. You can tell when he’s close, his rhythm starting to get sloppier. “You ready to give me that third one baby? Can you do that for me?” he asks and you nod frantically, coasting along that razor thin edge between pleasure and pain. He leans down to kiss you then, swallowing each broken sound you make, as he rocks into you harder and harder until you’re both too strung out to do much more than pant and breathe into each other’s mouths. You topple over the ledge first but Katsuki isn’t far behind, your walls fluttering and clenching around him. You sob out his name one final time as praises pour from his lips about how perfect you were for him. “Knew you could do it for me princess. So good for me,” he sighs as he continues to paint your insides white.

When Bakugo is finally spent, he rolls over and practically collapses next to you. You both have to take a minute to recover, chests heaving as you try to catch your breath. Unsurprisingly, Bakugo recovers first so he carefully pulls back the covers before bringing them back up to drape over the two of you. “You good?” he asks, eyes scanning over your body as if trying to catalogue any damage he might’ve done. “More than good,” you sigh contentedly. “Good. C’mere,” he commands and you’re more than happy to oblige, allowing him to pull you against his chest. He carefully wipes the tears away from your cheeks before wrapping you more fully into his arms. “I take back what I said,” you mumble into his chest, exhaustion creeping in as the steady beat of his heart starts to lull you to sleep. “What are you on about now?” he asks, but the fondness in his tone belies the harshness of his words. “You’re fucking amazing at apologies,” you mumble. “Shut up and go to sleep dumbass,” he replies but you can practically hear the pleased smirk in his voice.

“Goodnight Katsuki.”

“Goodnight Princess.”

A/N: Apologies are difficult for Bakugo. He’s a very actions speak louder than words kinda guy. Also as funny a trope as the whole “forced to share one bed at a hotel/motel cause there are no other rooms” trope is, it’s more meaningful to me if there are two beds and they still choose to share.

Taglist: @pixelwisp @oliviasslut @larkspyrr @heroacadema @kozukatsuki @captaincyberqueen @undead-nyx @ineedtofocusfr @i-heart-fictional-boys

[starkeristheendgame]

okay so i just got my first ever massage today and holy crap it was so sensual. and i was wondering if you could write something where like tony’s had so many massages in his life that he knows where the best spots are and peter is stressed cus of college or whatever and tony gives him a massage and peter cums just from tony giving him a back massage.

Ooohhh, yes! I’m not one for massages personally because I kinda hate being touched by people I don’t know, especially like that, but I’ve given a few to friends and received a few from past lovers, so I hope this is to your liking! Thank you so so much for the prompt! I added a little dry humping in this, too, because cumming just from a spinal massage seemed a lil too unrealistic.

Super healing was all well and good, but Tony knew well enough that it didn’t mean the absence of pain. He’d been around Steve long enough to know that in some cases, it even amplified it. What was feeling your bones and muscles stretching for each other if not painful?

Watching Peter wince and reach for his lower back for the fourth time since they holed themselves up in the lab, Tony knew the answer. The kid had taken a pretty decent battering on the field - No broken bones, but plenty of taut, aching muscles.

“Hey, kid” Tony called, setting down the holo-pen he was using and motioning for Peter to join him. The boy moved happily but gingerly, overcareful of stretching too much as he bounded over to Tony’s side.

“Yes, Mr. Stark?”

“You doing okay? You’re creaking more than I do”. Tony had just began to come to terms with the fact that his age unfortunately hadn’t slowed down. He was verging on fifty, greying at the temples and finding it harder and harder after each battle. He was by no means unfit, but age was unkind to even superheroes.

“I’m fine, Mr. Stark. Just kinda twinges a little” Peter shrugged, and visibly regretted it. Tony cast the kid a pointed look, and he deflated slightly. “Okay. So...It kinda does suck. But only a little! Like, a day or two and I’ll be fine. Hot baths help, too”.

Tony gave a considering hum and reached up to rub at his jaw. “What about massages?” He asked, and Peter blinked at him.

“What, like...Some stranger rubbing you all over while you wear nothing but a towel?”

Tony huffed a laugh. “I don;t know what porn you’re watching, kid, but the majority of places ask you to wear your underwear or a bathing suit”. Peter went a pretty shade of dusky pink, eyes flitting anywhere but Tony’s face as he died a little inside.

“Uh. Well. No to either. Both! I mean...I’ve never had a massage. Its just a little weird, isn’t it? And expensive” Peter rambled, gesturing meekly. Tony supposed it was a little strange, but he was also not ill-advised of the merits of a skilled masseuse.

“Cm’ere” Tony coaxed, motioning Peter closer. The boy frowned a little, but was mostly curious as he stepped forwards, and Tony grasped him by a lithe shoulder, turning him until the kid was facing away from him, and Tony could see the smooth lines of his back through his shirt.

He reached up and set his hands on Peter’s shoulders, brows furrowing as he carefully felt about the honed muscles. God, but Peter was tense. Not coiled like a spring, but he definitely wasn’t lax as Tony pressed his thumbs gently into the meat of his shoulder. Peter jolted in surprise but visibly forced himself to relax as Tony began to knead at him, and after several moments, let out a soft sound.

“Huh. That’s...Not so bad” Peter admitted, when Tony was digging into the space between his shoulders, paddling out the tension across his spine there. Tony gave a light smile and a hum, to show that he was listening to him.

“You feel like someone just caught you jacking off, kid” he chuckled, and then paused. Perhaps...Not the greatest choice in words, and he hurried to wipe them from immediate existence. “I know you got pretty beat up out there, yesterday. How about I book you in with my guy, huh? You can see him whenever you feel too...Tense”.

“I don’t know, Mr. Stark. I mean, I don’t think I want some stranger feeling me up” Peter replied, but it was quiet, distracted as Tony let his hands dip a little lower, to the point where his spine began to broaden out into shoulderblades, pawing at the meat and bone.

“Have a think about it” Tony urged, thumbs pressing against the dip of Peter’s spinal cord, and the boy gave a muffled, sharp sound. Tony almost, almost paused, but he knew pleasure when he heard it, and continued wordlessly. And he was kind of glad he did, because when he took the selfish opportunity to run his hands down Peter’s spine, the kid truly did feel like he’d been tazed or something.

“Jesus, kid” Tony whuffed, petting gently at the locked up muscles. Peter ducked his head and then looked over his shoulder at Tony, almost shyly. Tony greeted him with a small smile and let his knuckles graze the delicate outline of the boy’s spine, not enough to really do enough except indulge himself.

“Alright, here. Sit on this chair, facing the back” Tony instructed, motioning to his abandoned stool. It had a sloped back, and Peter twisted, moving cautiously but clearly interested to see where this was going to do. He took a moment to psych himself up as he watched Peter splay those toned, lithe thighs around the chair, watched the shirt hug his back when he leaned forwards.

But Tony was nothing if not a pleaser, and he stepped forwards, waggling his fingers and then driving the heels of his palms against the small of his back. Peter made another of those soft little noises, and Tony offered a smirk, brows furrowing as he focused on mapping the lines of Peter’s body, each slope and curve and each battered muscle.

Somewhere along the five minute mark, Peter’s head was lolling and on every other press of Tony’s hands he was uttering pleasured, sighed little sounds. It sang through Tony’s veins, catering to every nurturing and giving atom in his body. Peter was growing laxer by the minute, and yet...

“Hey, kid. If you wanna get the most outta this - And this isn’t a come-on, but you ought to be laying down, and I’ve got a perfectly working bed one floor up” Tony remarked, trying his hardest to word it so it didn’t sound like he was being a leech.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter sounded sleepy, but his voice was a little higher, too, hitched like he was trying to contain himself.

“Not a come-on” Tony hurried to reiterate, hands stilling but not leaving Peter’s body. “Massages are done with you laying down, right? So you’re all relaxed and...Easier to mash up like a potato, I suppose. I can do a little magic like this, but if you want the full effect...”

He was aware of how it all sounded, and he was about to take it all back when Peter shifted, and then nodded.

“Okay. Yeah. Um. Are you sure? I mean, its your bed” Peter uttered, Tony stepping back just in time for him to swing a leg around, standing and then sitting again, so he was facing his mentor. Tony snorted lightly, and eyed him.

“You say that like I’m a wolf and its my den”.

“Well. No. But its kinda...Private, isn’t it? Like, its your space”. And. Well, Tony could understand that. He was, in fact, rather comfortable with having his bedroom as his personal space. Especially with the majority of the Avengers living at the Tower now.

It was his space, yes. Even the rare hook ups he’d managed over the years, he took them to one of the spare rooms. But he wasn’t about to tell Peter that, and he certainly wasn’t going to analyse why he was so comfortable with the idea of Peter not only seeing it, but laying in his bed.

“Its not like you’re gonna be rolling around naked in it, kid”.

And.

This is why he didn’t talk to people. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, but a shuffle brought his gaze up and he blinked when he found Peter standing, smiling at him almost meekly.

“Okay, Mr. Stark. It’ll be nice to be able to move around properly again”.

Tony opened his mouth, closed it, and turned on his heel. He’d offered; he couldn’t back out of it now. It felt hideously odd to lead the way to his room, his skin prickling and his mind like a box of angry wasps. He was hyper-aware of Peter’s footfalls behind him, light and steady.

The stairs. The penthouse main suite. Up the short steps and along the balcony. And...Right outside his bedroom door. The actual penthouse was nothing new to Peter - The two of them had spent enough time in here, as had the other Avengers, though it was by far not as heavily populated as the ‘main floor’ of the Tower, now dubbed a communal space.

And yet.

Tony pushed open his bedroom door before he could think too deeply about all of this, and swung an arm out with bravado. “Ta-Da! Here it is. My humble abode. Or...The very top part, at least”.

Tony’s bedroom was...Indulgent. His bed was a super king, and then just a little bigger. Black sheets that adorned a mix of silk of teddy fleece, and snowy-fox style fake fur throws. Ample pillows. The decor was minimalistic but a blend of regal and cool, sleek modern. Steel greys and deep blacks. One entire wall gave a one-way view of the cityscape and could be projected into anything he desired.

Besides him, Peter audibly breathed out.

“I know. Pretty lame, right?” Tony could do with more than 6 blankets. And he could definitely do something more creative with the decor. Besides him, Peter looked affronted.

“My bed came from a garage sale”.

“Ah” Tony considered, then gestured. “Go ahead”.

Like a puppy being told it could get on the couch, Peter went bounding towards it, flopping down near the centre with a delighted sound. Tony’s heart did something that defied gravity, and he let Peter squirm about for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Alright, alright. Roll over”. And he was really gonna have to stop with the puppy analogies before he couldn’t walk down the same street as a dog anymore. But Peter co,plied instantly, rolling onto his stomach with a whine of satisfaction, nosing into Tony’s sheets and...And he took the opportunity to adjust himself briefly, cursing the fact his cock had pricked up in mild interest.

“Alright. I’m gonna avoid any ‘deep tissue’ kinda territory, because you’ve never had a massage before”. And Tony knew from personal experience that ‘flying before you could walk’ was not always the best approach. Peter was looking at him again, blinking doefully and entirely too trusting, and Tony gave a light cough before he set a knee down next to Peter’s hip.

He decided on safe territory, and went back to the boys shoulderblades and upper spine, kneading intently and applying more pressure than he had before, know he knew the boy was safely and comfortably relaxed. Beneath him Peter was pliant and soft, eyes closed, arms crossed as a pillow and doing something utterly unforgivable to Tony’s heart.

He let his hands naturally gravitate towards the centre of Peter’s back, pressing at the easy slope of his spine. Beneath him, Peter’s hips hitched, and Tony fought back a smile. Involuntary movements could be hilarious. He pressed the heels of his palms down, thumbs sliding along the gentle ridges of the bone, and Peter heaved out a breath, hips pressing down into the plush bedding.

It was relatively quiet, Tony focusing on his work and Peter reaping the benefits of it with cute little noises. It wasn’t until Peter moaned that Tony realised his hips were inching quite...Rhythmically.

Doing his best not to alter his hand movements, Tony let his gaze zero in on the boy’s hips, watching as they rolled languidly and minutely against his bed. Something feral opened its eyes within him, licking its great, gaping maw. Tony sucked in a sharp breath and let his weight drop a little more, pressing Peter’s hips against the bed.

“O-Oh” Peter stuttered, and Tony couldn’t help a sly grin.

“Good?”

“Mm” Peter breathed, lips parted. Tony watched, rapt and hungry, gravitating to the space between Peter’s hips. He did his best not to make it obvious, the way he manipulated how Peter rutted against his mattress, but before long the boy was shaking and a steady stream of moans were dripping from his tongue.

Peter seemed to catch himself at one point, stiffening, cheeks flushing, but Tony shushed him cheerfully. “Hey, its okay. At least you’re not screaming in agony” he teased, and Peter giggled, relaxing again.

“I’m sorry. Its just...Its good? I mean, it hurts a little sometimes. But it feels really nice”.

He wanted, so badly in that moment, to make Peter feel even better. To drive his hips down against the bedding until he came. It was possessive and greedy, and he tried to fight it even as Peter’s sweet, high little moans filled his ears.

“Its okay” he repeated, quieter. “How does...Do you feel any better?” He asked, keeping his voice light. Below him, Peter nodded, paused, and squirmed.

“I do, yeah. Tonnes, but...I mean, I’m still a little stiff? In the middle. Maybe...Maybe the muscle is too tight? Or its not the right angle?”

Something twisted within him, warping and bending until it snapped, and he was parting his lips before he could even muster the self-control to murder the thought. “I could...Its not common. For obvious reasons. And feel no obligation to agree, but I could change the angle? Just means kinda...Sitting. On your legs. A little”.

And...Fuck. He wanted to claw the words back in, especially when Peter’s breathing hitched and he whimpered, but...Fuck. Was the kid nodding? The kid was nodding.

“Okay. Yeah. Just...For the...Benefits” Peter near whispered. Tony stared at the back of his head for a little while longer, tracing the spirals of his curls before he sucked in a breath. Right.

“Right” he affirmed, and after a moment, he brought his other leg up, so, so carefully over the other side of Peter. He aimed it close to his knee, so that when he truly shuffled across he wasn’t quite reverse-straddling the teenager. The angle actually was better, because he could pay closer attention to the alignment of his back and the muscle layout.

And now that he had better access, he began to knead at the boy in earnest, drawing soft little ‘uh’s on each press that went straight, unfortunately, to his dick.He couldn’t help the thought that this was quite possibly what the kid sounded like, stroking himself to orgasm in secret, late at night in his room.

“O-Oh. That’s...Yeah, Mr. Stark” the boy half-moaned, shaky and almost surprised, like he hadn’t ever expected it to feel this good.

Tony’s own hips nudged forwards, irregardless of his own permission, until he was all but three inches away from grinding against the teen like a...Well. Like a teen. Tony remembered all those youthful days of rutting against his partners like a dog in heat, the teasing friction that layers of clothing offered.

“Can you...Could you go lower? Like, the bottom of my spine? It feels...tight” Peter sounded hesitant, but more in the way that he typically was when asking anything of Tony. It was still fresh on Tony’s mind that it had taken the kid almost a month of being at the Tower to even ask for a drink.

“Yeah, kid. Okay” Tony agreed easily, surprised at how little his voice strained or wavered. He shuffled on his knees to adjust his balance and lowered the placement of his hands, watching Peter’s spine bow under his touch, hips sliding in an arc against his bed.

The short little hitches had Tony tipping forwards without even really registering it, and when a shuffle from Peter had Tony’s hips just barely grazing his ass, they both paused. Tony was about to open his mouth when Peter relaxed again, fingers flexing then twisting in the bedsheets, and he wordlessly continued.

The squirming increased. The moans grew bolder, less held back. Subtle nudges became flat out grinds into Tony’s luxurious sheets, and each torturous movement nudged them together in bare touches.

One particularly heavy press of Tony’s palms had Peter letting out an honest to god whine, hips pushing back against his hips instead of down against the bed, and Tony breathed out heavy, thumbs digging into his muscles. “Good?” He rasped, and Peter whimpered below him, fisting the sheets tightly and grinding back again.

“Peter...”

“I’m sorry. It just...Your hands. The bed” Peter heaved, burying his face into his arms to hide his shame. Tony found himself squeezing Peter’s hips, swallowing thickly as he looked down to see where they were connected, the jut of his hips flush against that plump, round ass he’d been doing his best not to look at for the past fifteen minutes.

“Its okay” he was speaking before he could even think about it, fingers flexing reassuringly in their perfect, fitting hold before he ran his hand down Peter’s spine, pet at his flank. “Happens to the best of us. Just...Don’t ruin my sheets”.

God. What was he saying? This is why Pepper didn’t let him do things. Or meet people anymore. Beneath him Peter’s little body hitched and he turned his head slightly, blinking back at Tony with wide, vulnerable eyes.

“Wha-?”

“Just relax” Tony cut him off, hands drifting to resume his work on that tight little knot at the base of his spine. It looked like Peter was going to protest, but then he lolled his head back into the duvet, nuzzling it with a low groan.

“M-Mr. Stark” the boy dragged out, trembling just ever so slightly under his hold as Tony drove his hips down against the bedding, and pulled them back up against his hips, where his own cock had begun to swell into a thick rise.

“You’re...Hard” Peter squeaked, and Tony ground his teeth, thumbing at a stiff slope of muscle.

“Yeah” he agreed quietly, and was surprised when Peter’s hips drove back against him. His breath stuttered in his lungs and he folded over slightly, gripping at Peter’s hips as a spark of pleasure jumped through his pelvis.

He fucked forwards against it without thinking, pressing down on Peter’s bowed spine, drawing a moan from both of them. “How close are you?” He ground out, rolling his hips languidly to ride the slope of Peter’s firm ass. Beneath him the boy whimpered and rolled his hips in response.

“Close”.

“That the skill of my hands, or the durability of my bedding?” Tony couldn’t help teasing, and Peter shuddered beneath him, head shaking slightly as he refused to answer. Tony couldn’t even feel affronted - He knew the pleasure of good bedding and sturdy mattress.

They began to move together in earnest, rutting with single-minded intent like Tony was eighteen and driven by his cock all over again (he might not be eighteen now, but the latter still largely applies). Tony braced himself, thighs tensed and body arched over Peter’s, riding his ass like it was all he was born to do even as he kept working on Peter’s spine, digging into the meat and bone until one of Peter’s arms bent backwards, searching.

Their fingers interlocked and Tony moved his arm forwards, bringing Peter’s hand back to a more comfortable position as the signs the boy was getting closer to completion became more apparent. Tony’s own pleasure was coiling through his body, taut like a spring about to release. He felt flushed, heady, cock hot and desperate.

“Mr. Stark!” It was pitched, a half-yelp, and then Peter’s body was jerking beneath him, arching and locking up, torn between fucking forwards and pressing back against Tony’s cock as the boy shuddered through his orgasm, coaxed through it by Tony’s hand on the centre of his back, pressing him down into the mattress.

Peter cums with the most breathtaking sound. A moan warped into a cry, shaking and rich with pleasure and emotion. Has the bite heightened everything? Peter’s senses are always so sharp, so raw. How did an orgasm feel, when even the sound of your own breathing could overwhelm you?

When the kid finally, finally slumps down beneath him, still pinned - allowing himself to be pinned - Tony can’t bring himself to chase his own, heat and guilt fighting an equal war in his gut.

“How do you feel?” He bit out, forcing himself to let up some of the weight. Peter had only consented to Tony making him feel good. And even then...Had it really been consent? He kind of felt like the guilt was winning out of the heat.

“I feel good” Peter breathed, head turned to blink at him lazily, sated. “Really good. I feel...Loose”.

The lecherous smirk is dazzling before he can stop it, palm sliding down the gentle slope of Peter’s spine the settle dead centre on that inviting, round ass, thumb pressing just a fraction into the dip of his cheeks, towards a wet, hot heat Tony knows awaits.

“Want to feel even looser?”

[happy-beeeps]

So Kriffing Smooth

Pairing: mechanic!reader x Poe

Part 1!

WC: 1.5k

Warnings: None I think? Maybe language? It’s v v v fluffy!!!

A/N: this wasn’t gonna be a part fic, I was just gonna do drabbles, but I thought it was unfair to leave you guys hanging on how their first date went!!! Let me know if you want this to exist in parts or in drabbles that vaguely float on a timeline.

* * *

“Rey, why is it that I own literally three changes of clothes and one of them is a flight suit?”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, so does Poe!”

“You’re lying and you know it, that man has the biggest wardrobe aside from General Organa in the entire Resistance.” Rey smiled and shook her head laughing as you adjusted one of the few outfits you had that wasn't for repairing ships. “You’re gonna be fine. He hasn’t stopped talking about this date since yesterday.”

“Stop saying this is a date or I’m going to break out into hives.” Who were you kidding, you’d already been antsy all morning. You had caught Poe’s eye earlier that day, and he had sent you a small wink and a wave and you almost choked on the meal bar you were eating. This couldn’t be real. You couldn’t believe this was happening to you, Poe Dameron, the best pilot in the resistance actually liked you. Never in your wildest dreams could you have imagined this. You checked the time and cautiously looked over at Rey. “I guess we should go…” she pressed the button to open your door and gestured in front of you “after you.”

* * *

You had found Poe leaning against the column outside of the mess, looking both effortlessly cool and utterly terrified. BB-8 was chirping away at his feet, rolling back and forth in anticipation. At the sight of you and Rey, it beeped with delight and rolled over to the two of you. “Hey buddy!” You called, crouching down to give him a gentle pat when Poe ran over. “Hey! You look, you look great!” He said, smiling over at you. “You clean house pretty nice yourself, flyboy.” You responded, sending him a playful nudge. Rey cleared her throat and gestured down to BB-8, “right well, the two of us are gonna go somewhere else that isn't here. You two have fun.” BB-8 sent a loud beep as a response, before the two headed another direction. Gesturing into the mess, Poe looked at you “shall we?”

You grabbed whatever food you could, and took your meal packs outside of the base to the lush forests of Ajan Kloss. You loved it out here, so different from the grey mechanical cityscape of Corellia, the greenery that surrounded you made being out here even better. You had to admit, Poe had timed it rather well, the suns were low in the sky, casting a purple glow on everything. It was light enough to see without assistance but dark enough that everything had a hazy warmth to it. He was smooth, really smooth. “Was Yavin-4 like this?” You asked as he leaned back on his palms to recline rather lazily next to you. You were seated criss cross beside him and rested your chin in your hand while you waited for his response. “Sort of, Yavin had more jungles, the thick and heavy kind that you get stuck in. I remember, one time I was flying with my mom, and I nearly wrecked her ship when I flew too low into some vines,” he laughed in spite of himself, and you blushed as you watched the way his eyes crinkled and his smile grew, “I’m shocked she ever let me fly again.” 

“I’m glad she did. I don’t know where we’d be without your fancy flying.” He gave you a small smirk before replying, “Gee, now you’re trying to make me blush. I thought I was the one trying to finally woo you.” You stared at him for a moment, eyes squinting in confusion. Surely you hadn’t been that shy around him. If anything, you thought your painfully awkward interactions made it abundantly clear that you were interested in him. “Poe… did you think I didn’t like you?”

“Well I mean, when you say it like that I get the idea that the answer is supposed to be no.” 

“You’re joking, oh my god I’m so embarrassed.” You said, laughing as you shook your head in your hands. “Hey hey hey, what do you have to be embarrassed about? I mean, if you didn’t like me, I mean, that’s probably a me thing. I’m pretty great but Finn says sometimes I can be a lot and-“

“No no, Poe, I just… I could never talk to you because I was way too awkward, I mean, kriff Poe have you seen yourself?”

“There you go again! How am I supposed to flirt with you when you’re doing all the heavy lifting!”

“I’m gonna be honest, you’ve got maybe another 30 seconds of this random confidence boost before I realize everything I’ve said and shut down again so, take advantage of it.” By now you too were sitting close to one another, mimicking his body language by extending your legs long in front of you. Poe reached out and softly grabbed your hand, before looking up at you before saying, “would it make you feel better if I said the reason I didn’t talk to you as much is because I thought you were way too smart and too beautiful to hangout with a guy like me?” Your cheeks burned a deep crimson before you looked down and back up at his eyes. You had to bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling too much when you replayed, “I mean, it definitely helps.”

* * *

Poe Dameron was smooth, you already knew this much, but as he led you away from your impromptu picnic towards the hanger, you didn’t realize how smooth. His arm snaked around your hips in an instant, and you hadn’t realized how much you had leaned into his side until he made a turn towards his ship and you almost tripped over him. You headed towards his X-Wing, complete with modifications you knew were definitely illegal, and watched as he opened the hatch and climbed in, he scooted all the way to the back of the seat, and gestured for you to follow him. “I promise it’s not as tight of a squeeze as it looks.” 

“No you’re fine,” you said, as you climbed into the space between his legs on the seat, “I've just never been in an X-Wing before.” As Poe reached around you to start working on the controls, you were starting to realize why. He was probably the only pilot with the capability, or straight guts, to do this. You couldn’t imagine it was an easy time. Still, with his arms wrapped around you and your head on his chest, you couldn’t help but admit, this was really a nice time. He took off over the tall green trees forests and into the oceans of the planet. You felt like you hadn’t seen them in years, you rarely had the opportunity to fly around as a mechanic. “Poe, this is beautiful!” You exclaimed as you watched the moonlight start to shimmer over the water, like the fabric of one of the ornate gowns General Organa wore on only the best of holidays. “You think that’s pretty, wait’ll you see this!” He steered the ship upwards, through the air of the planet until you were floating just outside of the atmosphere. Stars glimmered all around you like tiny crystals, and you could practically feel his smile against your head. “It’s… even more beautiful than I remember it being.”

“When was the last time you got to go off world?”

“Oh gods, it’s been ages. I’m a mech, ya know? We don’t really have a reason to leave very much.”

“I guess so, but that’s a shame,” he said, before reaching around you to point to a bright cluster of baby blue stars, “those right there are some of my favorites out here, there’s something about them I just really like.” 

“It’s almost like an ocean in the sky.” You said, before shaking your head vigorously, “I’m sorry that was probably the most cliche thing you’ve ever heard.” He crosses both his arms around your shoulders and chest and pulled you in closer to him, “nah, sometimes the most cliche words just make sense when you're surrounded by stuff like this.” He leaned closer and whispered in your ear, “like me saying that this is nothing compared to how pretty you are.” You beamed over at him before taking the ounce of courage you had saved and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “You’re smooth Dameron, I’ll give you that.”

“Maybe, but it seems to be working for me so far. I can show you some more next time we go out?”

You leaned back into his chest and nuzzled in before smiling, “yeah, let’s keep this up.”

[girlmeetsliv3]

Head Over Heels

Killing Me Softly Sequel!

Yandere Hoseok x Reader ; BTS Member x Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4,076

Release Date: December 5th, 2019 @ 12 am (GMT-4) 

Three years. It took three years for some semblance of normality to return to your life. It took three years for you to begin to see the world, not by it's bad but it's good. Three years and you were finally moving on. Three years wasn't enough to stop his obsession. After three years, he was tired of waiting - you would finally be his.

Trigger Warning: The following story contains mentions of manipulation, abuse, harassment, and child k*dnapping. The behavior and mindset of the characters in this will be incredibly yandere and toxic. This is a work of fiction and doesn’t represent the character of bangtan sonyeondan. Enjoy ~~~

 Hoseok's fingertips trailed soothingly across your bareback, as the two of you gazed into the cityscape visible through the large windows. The silk sheets that covered your naked bodies provided little warmth but eased your anxieties about what your body might look like. Hoseok turned his head toward you, but you chose to ignore it, focusing on staring outside. Things were calm and pleasant. A drastic change from a few hours ago, but you welcomed it. "Did I hurt you?" Hoseok whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple. You shook your head and leaned further into his embrace. "It was perfect."

 Hoseok chuckled and moved you so your head would be tucked under his chin. "You were perfect, Y/n." You were grateful that he couldn't see your reddened cheeks or the grin that had quickly spread across your face, but you were sure he sensed them. In moments such as these that are so serene and full of joy, one can't help but think the happiest of thoughts. Ones that fill you up with joy, and this feeling of invincibility, they make you believe that anything is possible - that anything can be achieved. Those happy thoughts can cause great moments of joy, but they are not without consequence. Especially if one doesn't take into account the gravity of their words. It couldn't be helped that in a moment as beautiful as this, images slipped into your mind: images of Hoseok and you together forever as a large family in a tiny house. It was all supposed to be a harmless delusion - the fleeting dream that one might conjure up in a passionate moment with a lover. Even though you and Hoseok weren't lovers - technically.  

 Still, it didn't hurt to dream. "What are you thinking of, Jagi?" Hoseok asked his fingers on your back stilling. He was sure to have his eyebrow cocked in the way he did whenever he asked a question. "About us." Your tone was light, too caught up in your daydream to notice the change in Hoseok. "What about us?" His words were chosen carefully as if he were threading over thin ice. Even his breathing had shallowed, a sign of his nerves. Maybe you made a mistake that night, answering his question. Perhaps you should've changed the subject or pretended your thoughts laid elsewhere. You turned around to face Hoseok, noticing the slight frown in between his brows, and you softly smiled.

 "How I want us to be together forever. No matter what." You knew that statement could potentially scare him off, you had only known him for two months, but everything felt so right with Hoseok. It was a glimmer in his eye, and the way his hold on you tightened significantly that should have warned you that Hoseok had taken the words to heart. This wasn't a mindless pillow talk to him; it was a declaration. "I agree." Was all he said. You turned back around and lay your head on his chest, snuggling into him for some warmth. Your eyelids were beginning to become substantial, your eyes fluttering shut every so often until you finally succumbed and closed your eyes. Falling asleep to the rhythmic sound of Hoseok breathing.

 "I'll always be with you, Jagi. No matter what."

 You didn't hate your job, but it did want to make you tear the hair from your scalp several times a day - some days more than others. You had managed to work yourself up to a management position, which was supposed to mean fewer hours, but whenever someone in your office decided to be incompetent, you were left to deal with the consequences. Like today when Yeri had abruptly taken a day off right before the monthly evaluation meeting and forgot to send you the presentation and documents which you would have to present to the CEO. Usually, this wouldn't have been a problem if you hadn't found out forty-five minutes before the meeting. Not to mention you were supposed to leave early today, Sun-Hi had a doctor's appointment, and you couldn't afford to be late. Thankfully the daycare you had placed her in was only a ten-minute drive from your workplace.

 The clock on your car's dashboard read ten twenty-seven am. With luck, you would be able to make it to the appointment by eleven. Maybe I’ll take Sun-Hi out to lunch? It was preferable to going home and attempting to cook dinner. The bright colors of the daycare stood in contrast to the copper and steels of Seoul's architecture, but it was a welcome change. You pulled into the parking lot of the building, quickly gathering your stuff before racing towards the entrance and front desk. It was a new receptionist this time, one you didn't recognize, but you hoped she wouldn't take too long. "Hello, what can I help you with?" She must've been around your age, but her sweet smile and bright eyes let you know that she still hadn't lost her naivety - lucky. "I'm here to pick up my daughter Sun-Hi, we have a doctor's appointment." The girl smiled, typing her name into the computer. After a couple seconds, the smile faded from her face and was replaced with a frown. "I'm sorry, but it says she's already been picked up," she further leaned into the computer, eyes skimming the text. "It says here she left early for an appointment...and her father picked her up.”

           "So, what do you think of it?" Hoseok had insisted on stopping by your cramped apartment during finals week. He had dragged you outside, insisting that if you didn't take a break from studying, your head might combust. You didn't exactly believe his words, no matter how much he swore they were real, but you did need a break. Plus, any excuse to spend time with Hoseok was a good one. He had practically kidnapped you, forcing you into his car and driving for almost an hour before showing you his "hideout." A quaint beach hidden between forestry and rocks. Where despite the gray morning sky, the sea and sand glimmered. "It's nice." You muttered, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. The air had gotten colder, the beginnings of winter making themselves evident. "I've always loved it here. Used to visit when I was younger to get away from it all." Hoseok rarely spoke about his past, even if the two of you were close. There was always a sort of barrier between the two of you. One that only seemed to weaken around his friends, or in moments such as these.

 Hoseok sat down on the large blanket he had brought, dusting off what little sand got onto it. He patted the empty space to his left, indicating he wanted you to sit with him. Once you did, he wrapped his arms around you, enveloping you in a warm hug. "Are you cold?" He asked as he felt you shivering. "A bit." you chuckled before leaning further into him. The two of you remained silent for quite a while, basking in the refreshing scent and lulling sound of the waves crashing into the shore. You tilted your head up to look at him, mesmerized by how someone could be so beautiful and kind. Though the relationship between the two of you was a transactional one, it never felt like that. You felt like he loved you, even if he had never directly said the words. When the others gave you presents or attention, it felt like compensation, a 'thank you for your services' kind of thing. Whenever Hoseok did it if felt like it was a way for him to show his admiration towards you. Who knows? Maybe you were just a fool, falling for a rich man with sweet words.

 "You're staring." He smirked, not even bothering to look down at you. "I'm gazing." You retorted, smiling a bit. "It's creepy," Hoseok said, rolling his eyes. A small scoff left your lips, "It's romantic." One of his hands crept up your face, covering your eyes. Both of you burst into laughter as you tried to uncover your eyes when you finally did Hoseok pressed a chaste kiss against your lips. "No fair." You whined, lips pouting somewhat exaggeratedly. You pretended to try to escape Hoseok's hold, but his grip tightened, and he pulled you tautly against him. "Life isn't fair," Hoseok said as he pressed another kiss to your lips. "You're not getting away from me, darling. No matter what."

           “And you’ve had no contact with any of them since the trial, correct?” Officer Park asked, the two police officers standing in the middle of your living room. "No, I haven't! You know this. How many times am I going to have to say this?!" You were exasperated, the snot-filled tissues clenched in your hand, and reddened cheeks a clear sign of it. After causing quite a show at the daycare, you had called Investigator Lee only to be told that he was out of town. Park shot his partner a look before crouching down in front of you, the case you had been involved in was infamous: seven of Korea's most prominent businessmen and figureheads all involved in a kidnapping and love affair that looked like something straight out of a drama. Your name had been changed to ensure your security, but that didn't mean that judgment hadn't followed you everywhere you went. Even now, in your own home, you could see the way the officer's side-eyed you. "I understand why you're reacting like this, Miss, but rest assured we will do everything in our power to locate your daughter and ensure her wellbeing." Inspector Park stood above your hunched over the figure, while his partner stood in the corner with harsh judgment in his eyes. "For the time being, please refrain from speaking to anyone about this. We will try to interview the men and see if they know anything." Yeah, right, like you were going to listen to that.  

 Gangnam's correctional facility was on the outskirts of town, barely classifying as Seoul but housing enough prominent individuals to bear that name. You had been sitting outside in your car for over thirty-minutes debating whether or not to come in. Whether or not to see any of them again after everything that had happened. The desire to locate your daughter had outweighed any sense of fear or survival instinct that willed you to drive away and forget the men. Taking a deep breath, you stepped out and stared at the bleak concrete structure, it's red bricks standing out against the desolate surrounding area. You noticed that some guards were staring at you, so you began to walk towards the front, trying to ignore their peering eyes. The prison was a long stretch of red brick and concrete; it was perhaps three floors high, including the ground-floor. There were small windows all along the length of it, and it was quite a distance away. That was because there was a large front yard area for inmates almost enclosed with high fencing, the tops covered in barbed wire with signs along the lengths warning that the fencing was live and that touching it could result in electrocution and possible death. Between the yard and where you currently stood, there was another building, a smaller building. This one was ground-floor only, and it was the entrance to the prison.  

 Visitors would be checked and searched within that building. Two other buildings were flanking each side of the prison, one in which there was an infirmary and presumably solitary confinement of sorts. The other contained a large visitation room and other things that you had yet to see while inside. Lastly, in two of the corners around the prison, there were tall towers on which guards would stay and watch everything from above. There were massive alarm systems stuck to the sides, and you briefly wondered what the siren would sound like before you dragged your eyes away. It was an imposing building, that much was sure, and the cold waves coming off it seemed to permeate and chill you down to your very bones.

 "Who are you here to see?" The guard asked, his voice being slightly muted through the glass pane. You took a deep breath, "Jeon Jungkook." You handed over your id and emptied out your pockets before you were patted down. The walk through the aisle was uncomfortable, to say the least, inmates lined their cells peering down to catch a look. You couldn't help glancing up, trying to meet any of the six familiar pairs of eyes - not knowing whether to feel gratitude or regret when you were unsuccessful. The interview room was vacant, with only you in a room lined with glass, chairs, and black phones. You chose to sit in the third chair, deeming a reasonable distance, though what you measured you didn't know. It was a few minutes until the other room's door was open, Jungkook stepping forward while a guard lingered behind. His hands were handcuffed in front of him, and even though the white jumpsuit, you could see the way his muscles flexed. He had gotten more significant, if that were possible, not having much to do except workout after being locked up for so long. Jungkook seemed disinterested until he glanced up, and his eyes met yours.

 Jungkook began to laugh, a childlike glee filling his eyes; beneath that, however, you could see the swirl of wrath and regret. The guard uncuffed him and whispered something to him, possibly telling him to behave or the amount of time they had. Jungkook walked to the third chair and sat down, his eyes slowly trailed down your body. Now up close, his features had aged and hardened, but they remained with a youthful glow that sadly you had lost. Not wanting to waste any more time, you picked up the phone beside you holding it up to your ear. Jungkook smirked, leaning back in the chair as he continued to stare at you. Clearly, he had no intention of picking up the phone, at least not anytime soon. Even now, he still found ways to torment you. "Please." you mouthed, hand coming up to rest on the glass. It had been years, but people didn't change that much, and you knew that you still meant something to them. Jungkook played along, his palm coming up to meet yours. Maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, but you swore you felt some of his heat come through the thick bulletproof glass. Finally, he picked up the phone.

 “Long time no see, Y/n.” His lips curved slightly upward.

 “...Hi Jungkook.”

 "Aren't you going to ask how I've been?" Jungkook teased, leaning forward. When you refused to, he answered anyway. "I've been good, you know. I didn't think I would ever fit the prison life, but it isn't too bad - at least I don't have a long time left." Your eyes widened, shock evident in the way the phone between your hand trembled, "What? But I thought -" Jungkook chuckled, "Didn't they tell you about the appeals? All our sentences got decreased, not to mention all of us have been on our best behavior." He emphasized by making quotations with his fingers. You wouldn't believe the cruel hand fate had dealt you with as if once wasn't enough. You opened your mouth to speak, but you were unsure of what to say. What would work? What would make the men give up on you?

 “Jimin’s already out. I’m sure he’s planning on coming to visit you soon.”

 With those few words, Jungkook had robbed you of your breath. You had been so sure it was Hoseok, but if Jimin was out, that means he might know about Sun-Hi. If he knows that means… Your eyes trailed up to see Jungkook smiling sadistically, madness in his eyes. Maybe he didn't know. Perhaps he did. All that mattered to you now was finding your daughter. Along with making sure to protect her from her father, even if it cost you your life.  

 "Have you thought about what you want to do for the rest of your life?" You asked him as you turned around. A small giggle escaping your lips when you noticed that he had been staring at you this whole time. "I'm looking at her right now." Rolling your eyes, you playfully hit his shoulder. "I'm serious." Jimin pouted, "As am I." His arms wrapped around you and pull you towards him, the book on his chest long forgotten. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you." It was a cute thought, one that caused blood to rush towards your cheeks.

 "Why do you always say such corny things?" You accused him, as you hid your face in his neck. Jimin could only laugh, "Someone has to." Then he lowered himself until the two of you were at eye level on the soft carpet floor. Jimin's hands combed softly through your hair before cupping your face. There was a faint glow in his eyes, almost like golden flecks that danced in the light. Jimin looked like an angel that had fallen from heaven. Slowly you leaned in to brush your lips along his, but the sound of a phone ringing interrupted you. You had forgotten to turn off your phone.

 "What is that?" All the joy had disappeared from his voice. "How many times do I have to tell you to turn off your fucking phone?!" In the blink of an eye, Jimin had crossed the room to where your bag was. He took the leather bag in his hand, combing through it until he located the mobile device. "Jimin… I'm sorry. It's almost out of battery, so I thought it would die out." He wasn't listening, or he didn't care to. Jimin smiled, turning around to face you, the phone in his hand. "You know I've told you that I hate this phone. It's so old. How do you think it reflects on us if you're walking around with a dinosaur for a cellphone." When you didn't answer, it only made him more upset. Even if it was clear, his statement was rhetorical.  

 "Don't worry, I preordered the newest model. Think of it as a gift." The phone between Jimin's stiff fingers slipped - or that's what he claimed hours later once he had calmed down - to you, it looked more like he slammed the fragile device with all his force against his marble table. It didn't matter. No point in bringing it up, you had a new phone, and Jimin was happy. That's all that mattered.

 The ringing was what woke you up. It had already been over six hours, the news had yet to be dispatched, but so far the police had no luck in locating your daughter or a single trace of Jung Hoseok or Park Jimin. When the police visited the prison to interview the other five men, they'd been notified of your visit. To say they were displeased would be an understatement; the two officers insisted that your involvement would only slow down the process of the investigation. All you could think about was how audacious one must be to tell the mother of a lost child to "relax and destress."

 The phone on the nightstand next to you shined a bright blue. The caller identification stating 'foreign.' It couldn't be your family, investigator Park had warned that contacting your family might not be helpful as it could cause an intense commotion. They'd be the last person you would tell: your family had shut you out after what had happened three years ago. Not that you blamed them, no one wanted an 'escort' for a daughter. Hesitantly you answered the phone, placing it next to your ear.

 "Hi, mommy."

 You leaped off the bed, "Sun-Hi. Oh my god. Are you okay? Sweetheart, are you hurt?" Tears were spilling from your eyes as you rushed to the living room to find Investigator Park's number that was on the card they'd given you.

 "I'm fine, Mommy. Daddy says not to call the police."

 You froze. "Da-daddy? Is he there can I speak to Daddy?"

 There was slight static in the background, so you couldn't make out the voices. Only your daughter's soft tone when she returned, "No. Sorry." A dry sob escaped your throat, "Sun-Hi. Baby, please. Tell me where you are." Your daughter didn't respond; there was only more background noise until "I'm sorry, Mommy. I have to go." No. "No!" The call ended, and with it, you collapsed onto the floor. Your knees coming up to your chest as you rock yourself back and forth. Desperation began to fill you as a single thought settled back into your mind: it isn't over. Their game. It's just started.

 Sun-Hi played with the monster truck until she had just about crashed it into everything and quickly become bored. Then she decided to explore her room once again. Daddy had said that everything inside was either bought by him or her uncles. It was beautiful and distracted her for a bit, but she missed Mommy. She wanted her mommy. It was only after throwing a tantrum and screaming for a while, that Daddy finally let her talk to Mommy. Mommy sounded upset, but Daddy said that soon she would join them, and they would be happy together. All of them.

 "Sun-Hi." His voice called out, a sing-song tone to it. When he peered his head through the door, she burst out into giggles. "Oh, my baby. You're so adorable." He cried, running over to her and lifting her up into his arms. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, in awe of how he and you had ever managed to create such a beautiful creature. In the corner of the room, next to Sun-Hi's bed was a nightstand with a framed picture of him and you in it. Taken on that oh so fateful day. "Good news, sweetheart. Mommy's coming to meet us soon…" His voice trailed off as he looked deeply into his daughter's eyes. As he gazed into them, he saw your eyes staring back at him. The ones that used to gaze at him with so much love and fear. For a fraction of a second, he felt guilty at the damage he might be causing; how much pain he might be inflicting onto you, all because of some deep-rooted need. However, that sentiment didn't last very long.

 Sun-Hi was a reflection of the love he and you had, he would be damned if anything stopped him now after having waited such a long time. He would have you now. The world is damned.

 The last thing you knew you had passed out on the living room floor. After the call, you had suffered a panic attack that left you hyperventilating so much the lack of oxygen triggered a 'reset' switch to go off in your brain. Knocking you unconscious. Your mind likely needed such a thing after all the stress it had to undergo in twenty-four hours. The former, of which would look like a stroll to the park, considering what you had to face next. It wasn't until you tried to move and felt the tight cord digging into your flesh that you realized you were tied up. Looking around, you realized that you were still very much in your house - the bedroom, to be exact. Even it didn't paint a pretty picture that you were curled up with your wrists and ankles tied together. It left you in an uncomfortable position that at best only allowed you to roll over and off the bed, but didn't allow for much else. In the corner of the room, a shadow moved before it seemingly melted back into the wall. You weren't easily deceived.

 "Who's there?" You called out, knowing that the person wouldn't necessarily answer, but hoping to elicit some type of reaction. That way, you could narrow down who it could be - even if there really were only two contenders. "Who do you want it to be?" Spoke his angelic voice, before he stepped out into the moonlight - a maniacal grin on his face.

 "How I've missed you, darling."

[rideboldlyride]

A much delayed Chapter 4 - Celestial

Seal My Heart and Break My Pride <--- AO3 link

“The shipment of Jasmine is delayed again.”

Across from him, in the seeming anonymity of stainless silver and terra cotta, his uncle moved around the industrial kitchen with the grace of experience. At that moment, they could have been in any kitchen anywhere in the world. Since the morning crowd had long dispersed, and the lunch crowd still working, they were the only two staffing the shop, with just a spattering of customers in the dining area. The illusion remained fully in place, and Zuko could almost imagine walking into the dining area, only to see a Fire Nation cityscape in it’s windows.

At his proclamation about the jasmine, his Uncle Iroh had his stolid demeanor broken.

“How can we call ourselves the Jasmine Dragon, when we have no Jasmine ??” If Zuko didn’t know any better, he may have thought that his uncle sounded emotional.

A sigh escaped him. “I told you, Uncle. Our supplier is citing droughts in the region, stating that all of their customers are suffering shortages.”

As the older man turned, he produced a steaming pot, and two cups, clean and prepared, and set them down on the steel top between them. Before Zuko, papers were scattered in an organized chaos. He had a grasp on keeping books, but there were times that his focus was a beast incapable of being reigned in. His growing headache hadn’t helped. And then there was the cause of the headache- that borderline nausea, characteristic of a mild hangover. Absent-mindedly, he scratched at the spot on his inner forearm where ink had sat overnight. He had been mortified to find it smeared beyond recognition upon waking up. One of the many downsides, he found, of sleeping hot, included the fact that it was rare to wake up without a sheen of sweat. Between the normal motions of sleep, the sheen of sweat, and the gel qualities of the pen she had used, it was rendered illegible. He had been beyond frustrated. It didn’t, however, keep her off of his mind.

“I would offer some from my stores, but I’m completely out.”

Katara. She kept trying to swim before his open eyes. There was so much that intrigued him, and he was like a thirsty man in a desert, with just the hint of water in the air. If he just could taste, get a little bit on his tongue…

“I understand, Nephew. We will have to press on, even in this time of trial.”

Zuko nodded, barely noting his uncle’s words. This was not missed.

“Usually, my fiery tempered nephew would protest about my melodramatics at this point.” With a raised brow, the older man poured the tea, offering the steaming cup to the younger, who seemed engrossed in one particular line on a singular page among the throngs scattered in front of him. Unseeingly, Zuko retrieved the cup, and instantly brought it to his lips. Far too hot, it scolded, and he jumped, brow furrowing in frustration. Jarred from his reverie, he drew his lips into a thin line, the remaining parts of the sip jumping away at the motion, and splattering upon the paper. In irritation, he snagged the page, using his pant leg to dab at the liquid, in an attempt to salvage the ink.

“You seem very distracted, Nephew.”

A glower set over his brow. “I just spilled scalding tea on an important notice. Can’t imagine what you’re talking about, Uncle.”

His own tea resting in his fingers, Iroh studied Zuko intently, seeing more clearly than he cared for. Finally, he broke the silence.

“How did your evening go?”

Now flustered, the younger man shuffled the pages anxiously, attempting to herd them like polar cats. His uncle’s question stilled him instantly, and he brought his gaze round to bare,

“It was… good.”

“Eventful?”

“Surprisingly,... yes.”

A hum escaped Iroh’s lips, and he sat back, knowing that when Zuko was ready to speak, he would, if at all. Instead, he watched his nephew once more return to his attempt at organization, this time moving more steadily and slowly. In a moment of startling clarity, Zuko could hear her laugh. A hot sigh escaped his lips, frustration and irritation at the lost number returning to his mind. Then he heard it again.

“Oh!” Zuko was startled when his uncle jumped with sudden vigour. “It seems one of my favorite customers is here.”

As he passed, Iroh stuck a gentle elbow into his nephew’s ribs.

“This is the one I’ve been talking to you about.”

Rolling his eyes, he watched Iroh exit out of the kitchen through a traditional curtain. Instead of following, he peeped out of the pass through at the young woman Iroh spoke of. This mysterious woman, her back turned to the counter, was unheeding of his gaze. Half pulled back, a cascade of dark brown tresses fell to her waist line. Headphones crested over her head, and evidently currently active, since she seemed unaware of his uncle’s appearance behind the counter. Zuko’s breath caught in his throat when he heard the voice behind the curtain of hair.

How could he cross paths with her two days in a row?

“... Sokka. I haven’t heard from him.” Pause. “You, of all people, should know how this works. Isn’t there some kind of stupid rule about how long you’re supposed to wait?”

She was evidently on the phone. His uncle paused before interrupting her, letting her continue her conversation.

“Listen, I’m going to see you in just a few minutes… No! Of course I don’t want to talk about it with Dad around! I just…” She sighed. “Fine. I’ll see you. Did you want me to order you anything?... Alright, I’ll see you then.”

Zuko slipped a little further back into the kitchen, trying to keep hidden but still being able to keep an eye on her. It was surprising how daylight made one a coward about what one

was comfortable at night. But as his uncle gently tapped her shoulder, he held his breath. She turned with a bright smile on her face, and he couldn’t stop the matching smile pulling at his lips.

With a single motion, she evidently ended the call, and removed the headphones from her ears.

“Good morning, Iroh!”

“Miss Katara! I must say that your definition of morning seems very fluid.”

Her laugh comes easy, and Zuko soaks in the sound.

“I am a complete night cat-owl. You know that!”

“Yes, my dear. But it brings me great humor to see you emerge at the break of dawn one morning, and then scuttle in here just shy of midday the next.”

“I had a long night. My friends all wanted to go out. I think we all forgot we’re near our thirties.”

“An eventful night?”

Her smile stayed planted, but her eyes seemed to be looking far away. She hummed an affirmative. His uncle only laughed.

“Nearing your thirties, but still starry eyed, my dear?”

That mischievous glint- that damn mischievous streak - in her eyes, struck again, and it took all of his willpower not to round the corner. Instead, he started to plot.

***

“What can I say, Iroh? I’m a closet romantic.”

“There are worse traits.” A warm smile peered up at her. “Is there something I can start for you?”

“Yes!” She was broken free of her reverie, and she perked up. “I meant to ask, do you still brew lapsang souchong?”

A brilliant smile lit up his face.

“Only for my special guests. And you, my dear Katara, are a special guest.” He turned to the passthrough window, but he spotted the younger man already in motion, his back to the customers, preparing the tea. She watched the older man as he took a small glance back and forth between them. “Are you expecting anyone, my dear?”

“Actually, yes. My brother and my Dad.” She knew where this was already going. It wasn't the first time he had brought it up.

“It’s a shame- My nephew is here and you are here. You know how often I have spoken about him to you…”

She raised a brow. “And told me nothing about him.”

Blue eyes met his amber ones, mirth reflecting between each other. “Touche.”

In between their banter, a steaming mug was placed on the pass-through unseen.

Iroh was the first one to break away, spotting the mug. As he turned back to her, tea in hand, a brow rose to her contemplative look. Absentmindedly, she fiddled with the charm at her throat. A devious smile pulled at her lips.

“I have a proposition for you, Iroh.”

“Yes?”

“I’m going to be working on a study in the lower ring, since our work is in the Serpent’s Pass. From what I hear, you have two more shops, now.”

“Yes, one is--”

A hand rose to stop him. “No, don’t tell me. We’re going to let fate play the stars, alright? Tutega is known for her capricious ways.”

Known to be well-versed in the lore of many nationalities, she was not surprised that Iroh showed no confusion over the name of the spirit. Tutega, the mercurial spirit woman was known to move the stars and thereby the fates, according to her desires. While growing up religious, Katara held a certain respect for the deities, even though she was not as devoted to the rites as she might once have been. Either way, she was more than willing to blame the spirits if this idea of hers went south.

“So here’s the deal. Your nephew runs those shops, right?”

A nod, along with a growing suspicion in his eyes, but he kept silent.

“What if, in exchange for this perpetual discussion, we make a deal that if I find one of the shops, I’ll go in to talk with him?”

“I would propose a caveat: you go on a date together.”

Hesitation paused the young woman. “I don’t know....”

“Unless there is another?”

“Well, no, I mean… I guess not really.”

“Then this: if you are free at that point, then go.”

The hesitation in her eyes dissolved, and she smiled again. “Then I’m going to need more than just silence, Iroh.”

“Free tea?”

Her laugh sounded out again. “Deal!”

***

When Sokka arrived, it was a raucous event, (‘Home’ Katara?! That’s the text you send??; What was I supposed to say?; How about ‘the guy wasn’t another Jet, I’m safe and he’s gone’?; What if he wasn’t gone?; He wasn’t?!) but it quickly settled, before a third individual arrived- this one seemingly an aged up Sokka, with the same striking features as the siblings. Katara was quick to her feet, enveloping him into a firm hug.

“Welcome home, Katara. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Dad.”

When they pulled away, the three of them fell into a comfortable banter, rapidly falling into the normal ebb and flow, being chased by warm tea. Finally, after a bout of pleasant ribbing of her older brother, Hakoda turned his attention to his daughter.

“Did you get that notice I sent you?”

A sigh escaped her. “Dad, I already told you, I’m not going to apply for an ambassador role with NOAA.”

“Why?”

“It’s politics. It’s making friends with people I can’t stand, be friendly with the assholes who are screwing up all of our oceans.”

“How do you think that they get their funding?”

“So you’re saying that I should be willing to ‘work’ with these pricks- pricks like O Corp-" she spits out the name with venom, "just to get funding?”

“No, I’m saying you should be willing to work with them to protect the oceans from them.” He leaned in, his blue eyes bright and eager, dropping his voice to inject calmness into the conversation. “You could be the saving grace-- the conscience people need.”

“These people that don’t see how important the sea is to life- without it, the world would fall apart! What you do to the ocean will always be visited back on you. It's what feeds us, lets us breathe. And those fools who see profit over living beings sicken me. I take from the sea, yes. But I also give back.”

A smile lit up his face. “And that’s why you should be an ambassador. Your passion, Katara, it can be such a force for good!”

His vigor set her back for a moment, and she took in his words. Slowly, she leaned in and placed a hand upon her father’s.

“I’ll… consider it.”

“And that’s all I ask.”

She smiled as she leaned back as the moment passed. “I have to say, Dad, most fathers don’t ask about ambassadorial opportunities…”

“Oh? Then what do they talk about?”

“‘Anybody I need to know about, Katara?’” Her voice dropped to imitate the older man. “‘When are you going to give me grandkids?’ You know, stuff like that.”

The look in his eye made her instantly regret her words. “So, then, Katara, is there anybody?”

“Ugh, Dad!”

Sokka interrupted, a mischievous look in his eye. “Maybe after last night, there was…”

A pink tongue darted through her lips at her brother, her nose crinkling. Before she got out a word, her phone went off. It was Toph.

Hey sugar queen. The text was obviously transcribed, but solidly in Toph’s typical direct manner. Zuko says something happened to your number. He refuses to get it from me. Says he’ll surprise you. He just didn’t want you thinking he ghosted you.

She couldn’t hold back the smile on her lips.

***

Outside, Zuko paced beside the truck.

“Thanks Toph.”

“You got this, Sparky?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Ugh- don’t ever call me that again.”

“What? Ma’am?”

A disgusted sound echoed in his ears, and he smiled.

“You got it, Toph. I owe you one.”

“Yeah, you do.”

***

With all of his willpower, he maintained his work schedule over the next few days. He refused to alter his schedule, truly leaving it to the stars, as Katara had mentioned. But when he walked in on the Tuesday after the fateful weekend, he was hopeful. The morning passed rapidly, as the breakfast crowd of the Lower Ring lasted much later into the day than his uncle’s shop. However, as the lunch crowd slipped in, he stepped back, allowing the shop’s employees to take up the slack. Instead, he mingled, confirming his customer’s comfort. Falling into his rhythms, he seemed to force his preoccupying thoughts away. A new group entered, and he greeted them with his customary small smile. It wasn’t until one of the members of the group stopped directly in front of the door, staring up, that it caught his attention.

It was only the beginning of autumn, but she was draped in a sky blue hoodie, oversized, and the hood pulled up. Dark tresses fell out from the side of the hood, and her dark chin jutted out from behind the hood’s cowl as she stared up, frozen still. With a shake of her head, she dropped her head. In that moment, he recognized her before she recognized him. With as much dignity and nonchalance as he could manage he made his way towards the kitchen to wait.

***

Of all the tea shops, in all of Ba Sing Se, she thought… The sign above her colleague’s lunch choice was emblazoned with a white lotus, the name proudly alight: The Jasmine Dragon.

Upon entering, she broke away from the group to move straight towards the counter. Better just to get this over with. A young woman met her there with a pleasant smile.

“Welcome to The Jasmine Dragon! Are there any teas you’re curious about?”

“Yes, but that’ll wait. Quick question:” Katara laid her hands flat upon the countertop, leaning on them. “Is your district manager in?”

“Oh, yeah, he’s usually here on Tuesdays.”

“Of course he is.” A bitter chuckle pulled at her lips, followed by a sigh. She dropped her voice a little. “Listen, I’m going to ask something weird, but I’ll explain once you answer, okay?”

The young woman’s eyes grew wary, but she nodded.

“Is he… Ya know,” she gave a vague gesture, “I don’t know… not fifty?”

The girl laughed. “No! No, he’s in his thirties.”

“Oh good.” The words escaped Katara like a sigh. “Iroh’s been after me to meet him, but you know how that can go sometimes…”

Her response was a knowing laugh. “Would you like me to go get him?”

“Yes, please.”

“Ok, hold on--” she stopped in her tracks as the dark haired man stepped out from behind the curtain blocking off the kitchen, a puckish grin on his face. The young employee gestured pleasantly. “There he is.”

“Zuko?”

***

@zutaraweek

[paperclipninja]

Lucifer post-ep ramble 5x01

Hi there, long time fangirl, first time Lucifan. After devouring all 4.5 seasons of this magnificent show in an impressive/alarming (all a matter of perspective) amount of time, I have very quickly found myself well and truly obsessed dedicated to all things Lucifer. And when a show grabs me like this one has, I tend to have a lot of thoughts and feelings that I can’t help but share, and so the post-ep ramble was born. It will probably contain many words, it may or may not be particularly coherent, there will definitely be over-analysing, but I thought I might indulge in re-capping the season 5 eps as I re-watch, so this is the first ramble off the rank. 

‘Really Sad Devil Guy’ (A+ ep name btw) kicks off as we’re still scrambling to pick up all our heart pieces after the season 4 finale, which is why Mr. Said Out Bitch (aka Lee Garner) being in Hell is such a cracker of an opening. Lucifer just waiting below deck on Fishizzle II (wth happened to Fishizzle I??) to greet him with his trademark ‘hello’ made me disproportionately happy, mostly because he was on my screen but also because his encounters with Mr. SOB are always great and this was no exception. Getting an insight into ‘life in Hell’, the way the characters in the Hell loops are played by Demons and Lucifer in action as the King was fab at this point in the series. And does anyone else have a visceral reaction to Lucifer stopping that bullet? I know it’s brief, I cannot explain it, it might be the command he has, the fact it’s awesome, but it makes me FEEL things. Just me? Cool.

I think what really strikes me in the way Lucifer just has to pop in on Mr. SOB upon hearing of his arrival, is the fact that he is a link to Lucifer’s life on Earth. They’ve existed in the same places there, breathed the same air, it’s a way for Lucifer to make that connection to his home more tangible. And when he realises where Mr. SOB’s hell loop has them moored, at Marina Del Ray, the way Lucifer says 'Los Angeles' with such yearning makes those heart pieces I had started cobbling back together really begin to ache. What this episode pulls off so brilliantly is the way Chloe and Lucifer remain connected despite being apart, and it’s all set up when Lucifer tells Mr. SOB, ‘You know, there's a good chance I know who's on your case. To them it's only been a few months, a blink of an eye, but here it's been much much longer’.

What’s happening ‘below deck’ in Hell (sorry...or am I?) is of course mirrored at the crime scene, where Maze is still calling Ella Ellen (never change Maze ILY) and Ella is banging on about Lucifer not responding to her DM’s and texts and it’s all so on brand and the thought of her sending Lucifer a clip of a parrot dancing to techno and him finding it funny is just too perf. Maze having Chloe’s back from the get-go and telling Ella to ‘read the room’ just shows how far this Demon has come. And of course Chloe saying that she hasn’t even really thought about Lucifer since he left...(spoiler alert: she has).

Seeing Maze and Chloe out drinking and dancing, somehow they're kinda dorky together and I love it, but it’s also really clear that they’re both leaning on each other pretty heavily and being there for one another and honestly, I love literally every combination of characters on Lucifer, you put any two together and the dynamic is 100% their own and these two are up there. It’s so weird seeing Amandiel running Lux, I big L LOVE Amenadiel but it’s just...wrong. Plus hats off to D.B. because his delivery of ‘No one sells drugs in my place...without me getting a piece of the action’, not gonna lie, I was THROWN.

So are we assuming that the number of months Lucifer has been gone = the number of times Chloe has rocked up to work with a hangover? Lol at the sunglasses but also, you do you Chloe, whatever you gotta do babe. Just like Amenadiel running Lux is like watching a slightly off AU version of the show, so is seeing Maze and Chloe as partners at work. Don’t get me wrong, Maze clearly supporting her and when they’re interrogating a lead, seeing Chloe and Maze have such a groove that they’re finishing each other's sentences and communicating without talking, I dig it. But I love that while it’s great, it still doesn’t feel right. Because that there is why this show is so clever, as an audience we crave the return to the way things were just as the characters we are watching do.

Linda being a completely OTT mum is so fab. I could write an entire essay about my Linda love. Her adamance that ‘Charlie’s special’ and Ella’s ‘every child is special in their mum’s eyes, huh?’ sums it up perfectly. Did I mention I adore Ella? I definitely get the distinct impression Ella is doing a bit of self-reflection, her comment about being drawn to the bad boys for some reason clearly foreshadowing, but also her reflecting that she deserves a good guy for once (just not this ep when there is a bad boy/potential suspect to be hooked up with). I am curious to see the ‘darkness’ Ella has alluded to in earlier seasons being explored further and feel like this is sowing the seeds and I’m also waiting for a significant Linda/Ella D&M at some point. But clearly not this point, because 'science lesson Wednesdays...I checked your schedule and that's your day off' Linda is NOT about deep and meaningfuls (or anyone who isn’t a 2 month old baby), you need to DIAL IT DOWN friend.  I love that it takes Trixie pulling some funny faces and Dan offering some sage parenting advice as he returns the self-help books (love the irony there) for Linda to begin to chill a bit.          

So Dan has gone all new age with his oils and self improvement and you know what? I love it. And then of course we have Amenadiel needing to help make the world a safer place, he just needs to make sure for Charlie ya know and ugh my ovaries. I must say, I was relieved to realise that the club life had not in fact corrupted the delightful warrior we all love after all - it’s all a ploy to catch a REAL BIG TIME drug dealer (nooooo I can feel the second hand embarrassment already...)! Amenadiel setting up the ‘drug bust’, telling the dealer, ‘looks like gooood drugs’, oh you dear sweet naïve Angel you. We of course discover that the bust is, well, a bust, because the ‘drug lord’ is actually a kid trying to offload his mum’s pain meds *insert facepalm emoii here*. But rather than ridicule or be angry, Dan is so understanding and supportive of Amenadiel and once again offers up advice and I really am so into this friendship on every level and the care and openness it models.

Meanwhile, the genius parallel between what is happening on Earth and in Hell really takes effect as Chloe and Maze go undercover (I mean, they are a glam couple lbh) to the poker game while Lucifer is at a game hosted by the same suspect in Mr. SOB’s ‘exquisite’ Hell loop. His exclamation that it’s exquisite reflects that Lucifer and Mr. SOB are not that different, that it’s the kind of place Lucifer might manifest as well, but I also feel that Lucifer could be admiring his own Kingdom’s handiwork at creating LA with such accuracy from someone’s subconscious. He allows himself to be absorbed in it, ‘City of Angels, I’ve missed you’, and I can’t help but get the impression that hearing Lucifer call LA this for the first time is confirmation that his Heaven, or place of Angels, is in fact there with Chloe.

Chloe remains firmly in the forefront of Lucifer’s mind this entire episode, with him asking ‘what would she do?’ and wanting to replicate the life he had with her at the precinct. But of course he is soon reminded of his reality, as he tries to get more information from Mr. SOB who is being useless. Lucifer incorrectly calling him ’Detective’ shatters the illusion that he is any closer to Chloe, and this is impressively emphasised as he erases the LA cityscape to reveal the Hellscape. For a moment he’d let himself believe he was back there. Back home. His, ‘you’re not her’ making some of my heart pieces fall out once again.

But then the messenger arrives, ‘Lord Morningstar, there’s someone you should meet’ and lo and behold it’s guy who just got hit by car up on the Earth-side of this investigation and I.am. loving. it. Also, did Lucifer put out a Hell-wide memo that if ANYONE arrives from LA they are to be bought to him so he can send messages to Chloe through their bodies??? NO REALLY I'M FINE. Having a Demon possess the dead dude’s body to pass on the tip from Lucifer was just TOO MUCH. His, ‘hey is that Mazikeen?’ made me actually lol but also, look how far we’ve come! Chloe doesn’t even flinch when the dead guy wakes up possessed to pass on Lucifer’s message. I’m so proud. 

'It's safe where you stored it' caused me way more amusement than was perhaps intended, but Ella, Maze and Chloe together, trying to figure out what it meant, it's such a great moment and the comedic timing is gold. Also, the fact it actually helps the case, ugh, Chloe and Lucifer are still connected and working together even though they are not on the same plane of existence and I’m just going to need to curl up for a minute because feelings.

You know who else is having a lot of feelings in this ep? The Devil himself. After he is satisfied he has passed on the message, he’s done with Mr. SOB, sending him, ‘back to your torture. And me to mine’. Any remnants of my heart are now once again shattered all over the floor in case you’re wondering. Lucifer doesn’t even try to hide the fact that being away from Chloe is so painful, almost revealing more than he ever usually would when Mr. SOB asks if she’s ‘somebody important?' to which he replies, 'more than you could ever know'. 

He only just stops himself before telling Mr. SOB her name, when he realises he's trying to manipulate him. And I'm so glad, Lucifer so sparingly uses Chloe’s name, it's always significant when he does and I feel like he reserves those moments for only between them. But Mr. SOB really does sum it up when he observes, ‘you just seem like a really sad Devil guy’, BECAUSE HE IS A REALLY SAD DEVIL GUY (can we just take a moment to appreciate how not at all scared of Lucifer Mr. SOB is, he doesn’t even refer to him as THE Devil, just ‘Devil guy’. It’s kind of nice that he sees and accepts him as both Devil and human without really questioning it). 

The parallel continues as Chloe and Lucifer are talking to a sister and brother  and the way this highlights the place they're both in. It's just brilliant writing and execution. Chloe is talking to Meg about her brother’s death and both her and Lucifer's yearning for one another is palpable. At the same time, Maze telling Chloe that they don’t need Lucifer and kissing Chloe highlights Maze’s desire for connection and love. She wants it so badly and the way she shuts down when Chloe suggests they stop working together breaks my heart.

When Lucifer takes Mr. SOB to the root of his Hell loop, yes, it’s about Lucifer projecting his own guilt and lack of self worth onto him, but his assertion that, 'it is inevitable sooner or later you're going to disappoint them all over again. So you'd rather stay away for all eternity’, really feels as though it carries multiple meanings. As a self-referential comment, is Lucifer talking about Heaven or Earth? Is it his fear of disappointing and letting down Chloe and the other humans or is it his belief that he disappointed his family? And if Angels self-actualise does that mean he was never 'stuck' in Hell at all and could have returned to Heaven? I certainly feel there is some sort of realisation occurring here. Or could be completely over-analysing it. Why not have both 🤷‍♀️

You know the line that just up and got me though? ‘Whose hell is this anyway? Are you sure this is my hell? You just here torturing yourself’- Mr. SOB calling Lucifer out is A MOMENT. And I can’t help but wonder if a part of it is Lucifer wanting Mr. SOB to come to terms with his own guilt, wanting to help him because he knows he’s not evil and he is trying to reconcile his own guilt too. If he can help Mr. SOB face and let go of the guilt then he has a chance of it too. And that’s when Mr. SOB challenges Lucifer, pointing out that he missed his chance, ‘but what about you?’ 'The self-centred simplicity of you humans never ceases to amaze me...I am here out of responsibility, I had to protect humanity, I had to protect HER', the delivery of this line, the frustration of being misunderstood, of ppl thinking that he acts for himself when his very reason for being back in Hell is for others, I can feel it through the screen.

The dead guy we saw get shot in the kitchen appearing at that moment with news about ‘the Detective’ and then cutting straight back to the shoot up in the house, file under: how to brilliantly edit. “Lucifer” appearing; the whistle, the casually strolling in, the ‘hello bad guys’ = I was FOOLED. I mean you have to admit, the ‘thought I'd give you a hand' pun was well played, classic Lucifer, very convincing.  My shipper heart was SO FULL for the split second Lucifer and the Detective kissed, until Chloe realised that something was off and her open eyes told us something was up. The cut back to Hell and seeing Lucifer still standing there with Mr. SOB...you may have heard my ‘noooooooo’ from wherever you are. ‘She’ll be just fine without me’...said every Devil who has a dick twin brother who’s going to try and destroy, nay STEAL, his life and love of his life ever.

Michael, you're an evil bastard but damn you nailed that villainous smirk over-the-shoulder pose in the final shot. Whatever you have in store, I will no doubt revel in your awfulness and be confused about whether or not I hate you. 

[thebiasrekkers]

Fragmentation 0.1 - JHS

Plot: How does one measure freedom? Are our choices truly our own, or are they part of a preset design outside of our control? We all have a question burning inside of us, though few speak it out. It is the question that drives us forward, seeking purpose in our lives. What is The Matrix?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | The Matrix!AU | angst | sci-fi | action | drama

Pairing: N/A

Warnings: Strong language, allusions of suicide, extreme angst, graphic violence

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,008

AN: It’s finally here! I know that I am still in the process of updating Make It Right, but I have been dying to get this series off the ground. Especially since no one in the fandom has written in this Universe from what I can see. So I’m super excited to share this with you all. This is the prequel to my upcoming series, Defragmentation, which showcases everyone’s origin stories and how they managed to escape from The Matrix. Because this universe is so extensive, I strongly suggest that people utilize the official Matrix Wiki as a reference point because there will be much in this world that I will not go into in-depth explanations for. Again, if anyone would like to be added to the tag list, please feel free to message us!

Tag List: @aroseforyoongi​, @prisczero​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​ (I’m adding you because I purple you; don’t @ me)

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Sabine saw The Code first.

Just after his fourteenth birthday, Hoseok met up with his best friend after school for their traditional birthday shenanigans. The funny birthday card, the sweet cupcake with a single candle on top, and a handmade present that he  knew Sabine spent the better part of three months putting together. That was supposed to be the plan. Nothing changed in the ten years they knew each other.

Instead of meeting on the roof after school, Sabine told Hoseok she would be waiting for him at the abandoned playground on the edge of town. He didn’t understand why she wanted to meet there, of all places. Kids didn’t go there anymore because of a major accident and the lack of upkeep made it look creepy. Going there after the sun went down just gave it eerie vibes.

When he arrived, Sabine was idly moving back and forth on one of the swings. Her eyes looked focused on something just behind him. When Hoseok turned to see if there was anyone there, he felt a chill slide down his back when there was nothing. He wasn’t sure if Sabine was trying to scare him, but it was working.

“Hey, Hobi,” she called to him, standing from the swing to meet him, “you haven’t been using your inhaler lately.”

He tilted his head slightly. Now that she mentioned it, he hadn’t been. The doctor told him to only use it when he felt it was necessary. For the last year, he didn’t feel a need. P.E. wasn’t as hard for him as it used to be and he could run four full laps around the track without feeling winded.

“No, I haven’t,” he replied, meeting her gaze, “but why bring that up, Bean?”

She smirked, brushing past him to stare out across the road. The street lights flickered to life, illuminating the pastel green landscape around them. Hoseok knew that look and it almost always meant trouble. He really didn’t want to get involved with another of her hair-brained schemes on a school night.

“Can you see it?”

He turned to look in her direction, her back still facing toward him. “See what?”

He watched Sabine’s back muscles tense slightly until she craned her neck to look at him. “You can’t see it?”

“See what?” he repeated with a sigh. “I don’t see anything except you being weird.”

For a while, Sabine said nothing. It wasn’t like her to be silent for this long and Hoseok was consciously aware of how hard she was looking at him. He was about to tell her to say something, anything, instead of staring at him like he’d grown a second head. Just then, she let out a defeated sigh and began walking away, leaving him behind.

“Hey,” he called, already starting after her, “what am I not seeing?”

“Doesn’t matter,” came her dejected response, “no point if you can’t see it.”

He wanted to keep bugging her about what it was she was seeing and he wasn’t, but Sabine clearly made up her mind about something. 

Hoseok just wished he knew what that “something” was.

“Sabine, wait!”

Hoseok watched his best friend continue her ascent up the fire escape without him. He tried not to be too loud, considering that their neighbors were middle-aged office drones who worked nine to five hours and had 2.5 kids. The last time it got rowdy in their complex, the local authorities were called almost immediately. Add the fact that they were sneaking out after curfew and it was easy to see why Hoseok was a little nervous to be raising his voice.

But Sabine kept going, as if she hadn’t heard him.

Pouting, Hoseok quickly ran up the stairwell after her - his legs feeling much lighter than they usually did. Normally he would feel winded trying to keep up with her, but today it felt easier to breathe. Which was strange, considering he’d been diagnosed with asthma since he was a child.

Then again, a lot of things were different for the past two years.

His parents told him that it was the normal adolescent hormones that popped up at the age of thirteen. “Puberty” and all that nonsense. He’d learned about it in school and, at the time, it made sense. He figured that it was just “growing pains” and nothing more.

Ever since his fourteenth birthday, however, he knew that things were changing at a pace that almost didn’t seem natural. Things were getting weirder and weirder every day. Hoseok even had a weird case of déjà vu when he thought he saw the same cat go by twice. 

That couldn’t have been the case, though. That sort of stuff wasn’t real.

Hoseok mentioned it to Sabine just a few days before his fifteenth birthday. He remembered the way her eyes almost seemed to light up - a look he hadn’t seen on her face in almost a year. The truth? Their friendship was strained and Hoseok was confused as to why. He couldn’t remember doing anything to upset her and she was the sort of person who was blunt and honest about her feelings at all times.

Though she had been surfing the net more and more. There were days where Sabine would skip out on their normal hangout time to stay glued to her computer. Her parents said she was studying or doing homework, but he knew Sabine was extremely intelligent and rarely had to put any real effort into her school assignments. Hoseok was no dummy either, but even he needed her help from time to time when it came to classwork.

The days bled into weeks and then the weeks into months. Before long, he was beginning to dread that things weren’t going to be the same between them anymore.

Then Sabine showed up at his door, telling him to come with her to the roof of their apartment complex. He wasn’t about to question her reasoning. Hoseok was just glad that she was talking to him again outside of class.

When he finally reached the top, Sabine was standing on the edge of the roof on the other side. Her dark curls whipped around her head as a sudden gust of wind blew through the air. Hoseok shivered, feeling the cold bite go straight through him. He crossed the roof to where she was, rubbing at his arms to warm them up. 

“So,” he said, trying to ignore the awkward feeling in the air, “what’s up?”

She continued to stand on the rooftop’s edge, her hands stuffed into the large front pocket of her hoodie. Sabine didn’t answer him right away and while that would have bothered him before, he was just glad to be able to be close to his friend again. If he was admitting anything to himself, it was that Hoseok missed her. A lot.

“Do you feel that?” she asked suddenly, causing him to look up at her.

“Feel what?”

Sabine sighed, turning to look down at him. “C’mon, Hobi. I know you feel that.”

He really didn’t understand what she meant, and was about to tell her as much. Suddenly, she reached down to grab his arm so she could pull him up onto the perch beside her. Hoseok almost squawked, losing his balance slightly until she tightened her hold on his sleeve to steady him. 

“Bean, I really don’t know what you’re talking about…” And he felt bad about it.

“No. I think you do.” Sabine gave him a pointed look. “You feel it, but you just don’t want to admit it.”

He sighed. “What is it I’m supposed to be feeling, Bean?”

“That this,” she said, stretching her arm out toward the cityscape, “isn’t real.”

Hoseok balked at her. “Wait, what?” He blinked once. “What?!”

This time she scoffed. “You haven’t had to use your inhaler in the last two years. You run the track regularly during P.E. and you’re able to keep up with me now.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself because he wasn’t sure if he wanted to argue with what she was insinuating. It wasn’t like any of it was a lie. But to say that none of it was real? That was just crazy.

“I’ve been reading up on these forums and there are whispers about this place. About how it’s not real.” Sabine’s brows furrowed as she bit her lower lip, averting her gaze from his. “How our whole life is one giant lie.”

A soft ache welled in his heart. Had she been battling with these feelings of depression alone all this time? Was that why she’d pushed him away? 

“Hey,” he said gently, reaching out to grasp her hand, “that’s not true. How can you say that?”

“Because it’s true. I’ve seen the glitches. I’ve seen the code.” Her tone was a mixture of hurt and indifference, like she couldn’t decide what emotion to display to him. Sabine turned to look at him. “And you have too. You just keep pretending that you haven’t.”

Hoseok frowned. “Sabine, come on…”

“You just want to keep being blind to it, but I know you’ve seen it too!”

The truth? He had. He had seen weird things - almost like flickers and after images. He figured it was because he was overworking himself or that his body was continuing its weird pubescent changes. What other reasoning was there? If he saw the same cat twice, it was just a coincidence. If he felt lighter on his feet, it was because he was taking the time to exercise properly. If there were ripples in the glass reflecting a person that was both him and not him, that had nothing to do with anything. It didn’t mean that their world wasn’t real or that their lives had no meaning.

...right?

A rush of movement reclaimed his attention and he screamed in horror as Sabine jumped off the roof. Hoseok reached out, grabbing at her wrists. The force of the jump coupled with gravity pulling her weight down in a rush caused his knees to crash into the concrete perch. The pain was immediate and he gripped onto Sabine with all of his might. Tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes as he looked down at his best friend, unable to fathom why she’d had the sudden urge to want to kill herself.

“Let go,” she said, causing him to sob.

“Are you crazy?!”

“Just let go, Hoseok.”

When he looked down at her, she wore an expression he couldn’t place. It seemed almost peaceful; resolute. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was a level of acceptance plastered over Sabine’s face that was profound. It caused his heart to leap into his throat and for a moment, the landscape dissolved into an array of black with strings of green numbers and letters in every direction. Even his best friend’s image was shaped around these numbers and letters.

His knees scraped across the concrete, causing his grip to slip a little. And then everything returned to normal. Or, at least, the normal that he believed himself accustomed to.

When Hoseok’s eyes met Sabine’s once again, he saw her crying. He didn’t have to ask why. Because he already knew the answer. 

“...it’s not real,” he mumbled.

Sabine nodded, smiling up at him. “So let go.” Her fingers tightened around his wrists. “Let’s go.”

He smiled at her, leaning down a little further, and gave a small laugh. “Okay.”

Hoseok waited for her to close her eyes first. Then he closed his. When he felt her thumbs pressing into his wrists, her silent way of saying she wasn’t going anywhere, he let gravity take hold of them both. The world rushed around his ears - the wind howling from the speed of their descent. At some point, he groped blindly until his arms wrapped around Sabine in a strong embrace.

And then everything went dark.

“Welcome to the Real World.”

[brekkingthebedwithbuckybarnes]

I See You

“Hey, you okay?” 

Bucky’s voice snapped your attention back to the meeting you were sitting at, his face creased with concern.

Your presence was useless, none of them ever bothered to ask you anything, so it was just a gesture of courtesy that you continued sitting there, doodling on your notepad.

“Yeah, just thinking things.” Your doodle was taking on an aimless design, but you couldn’t stop it. Even your hands seemed to be ignoring you. Great.

A break was called. Nobody even noticed that you’d slipped out after calling out a soft “Need some fresh air, be back in five” to no one in particular.

As you headed to the balcony opposite the conference room, it took all of your willpower to see through the haze of tears threatening to spill over.

Voices flitted to you as some people wandered off too and you quickly moved to a side no one would spot you from. Like anyone cared.

As you gripped the balcony rails, a thought came into your head, fleeting but impressionable. Would anyone care if I jumped? Would they mourn me? Would they even notice?

You knew it was not a sensible thought but it remained with you as you stared out at the cityscape. How you envied the ones who could fly. They could soar and soar, have people cheer them on from below, saviours, Avengers. Who were you? Just another in the sea of people working for the real deals. No, slightly more valuable than them, or you’d have not been on the meetings at all. But just that, slightly.

You were done with being the slightly better worker, slightly better researcher, slightly better everything. Ever since your parents had been gone forever, you’d never been ‘the best’ or ‘exceptional’ or whatever for anyone or at anything. Perhaps you’d only been that in their loving imagination. You missed them, talking to them. They wouldn’t have liked the emotional wreck that you’d become in the wake of the tragedy but it seemed so difficult to find one ray of light out of the gloom.

You didn’t notice the man coming up behind you, too caught up in your vicious cycle of guilt and sorrow. “I know it is a wonderful view, but I think you should let that railing go. It needs to see the light of another day.”

You’d almost jumped out of your skin at Bucky’s voice. “Oh, Bucky, I uh I didn’t see you there.” Your rush to wipe those stupid tears away wasn’t missed by him.

“Tell me what has happened instead of staying away from all of us and crying on the balcony alone, sweetheart.”

“I can’t.” You looked away and didn’t see the heartbroken look in his face as he took in your hoarse whisper, the tears now streaming freely down your face.

“Can I help in any way?” He turned you back towards him but you didn’t look up.

“I just...I feel so lost!” And you lost complete self control as a sob racked through your frame. “I feel like I’m drowning and I know I can swim but I’ve forgotten how and I’m drowning and nobody hears, nobody sees, I’m nobody, I’m no one, I scream but no voice comes out and I’m drowning and I can’t breathe and everyone is there and they see me but nobody helps and I’m just drowning and it’s all so black and I can’t breathe and...” Your knees give out then, but Bucky catches you before you fall to the ground. 

He holds you tightly in his arms, stroking your back, saying “I’m here, Ana, I see you, I hear you, I’m here, I’ll always be here, always.” Over and over again. 

It takes a long while to cry yourself out, and Bucky stays there the whole time. Whispering words that sound so soothing, holding you steady. It felt so safe in his arms. Like....like home.

As your tears finally dried up, you realised you’d kept the both of you out of the rest of the meeting. You weren’t surprised if they didn’t wait for you to return, but Bucky was important. 

He released you from his embrace and sat back. He let you look embarrassed and straighten your skirt but stopped you before you could open your mouth.

“If you’re going to apologise, I’m going to stop you right there.”

You shut your mouth.

“Now, I want you to listen to me. Look at me.” You couldn’t, wouldn’t meet his eyes. How stupid and childish he must be thinking you are. It was mortifying.

He had other plans. Putting a finger under your chin, he tilted you face up so you could look nowhere but at him.

“Know this, you ARE valuable. I see you. I see how strong and kind and smart and intelligent you are. I know you have been through hideous time and you think that you’re trauma is not on par with ours. You think you’re nothing because the people who you were everything to are dead.” He let go of your chin. You couldn’t meet his eyes now because it was the truth. Everything he said was true.

“We don’t do things so formally here. Just, raise your voice a little. Demand their attention. You deserve it. You get me?”

You nodded, trying to process what he was saying.

“Anything you need, hon, you tell me. I’d normally throw people out to California if they disturbed my beauty sleep, but I find I want to make an exception for you. Call me when you like, for whatever little thing. Okay?”

It was the kindest thing anyone had done for you and you felt that weight lighten a bit. You were enough. He thought so. You could relearn to think so. You could.

Wiping your nose with your hand, you let out a small smile. Bucky’s crystal blue eyes seemed to sparkle with relief at it.

“I hope you mean that, James Buchanan Barnes. I might take you up on that offer too many times for your comfort.”

“Darling, if you want midnight liaisons, just speak the word. As for the number of times, I won’t blame you. I AM irresistible after all.” His wicked grin made you slap his arm as you laughed at his atrocious words and he swung his arm over your shoulders to lead you back into the meeting.

It was the first time you’d laughed in ages.

[horrorboydyke]

ten for ten for ten

answer 10 questions, come up with 10 questions, tag 10 people to answer them

1. If you had the chance to reconsume any book, film, show, poem, anything, without knowing anything about it, what would it be? Why?

So for TV shows, it would be druck for obvious reasons, I don’t think I’ve ever felt more alive than when I was watching druck live. 

For poems, I would die to read  The Glass Essay by Anne Carson again it’s a really long read but I feel like I’m truly seen when I read it. 

For books, it would be Leah on the offbeat, it’s just an incredible read with really good bisexual rep. 

2. What is something you’ve learned in the last couple of years that’s most enjoyable to you?

A while ago I taught myself a lot about the history of aboriginal people in Australia because my school didn’t teach me and i felt that to me because a large majority of my friends are aboriginal, it was important for me to educate myself with their history. So much of aboriginal history is so interesting, I talked to the elders of the Yorta Yorta tribe (my town is Yorta Yorta land and it will always remain their land) and I heard their stories of the Mimi Spirits, featherfoot and Wandjina.

3. Describe your ideal day off/weekend.

Probably just staying in bed and playing animal crossing, that's all I’ve been doing during quarantine besides from course work. 

4. What’s your favourite scent of a candle?

I really like the scent of artificial cherry or this one specific cheap ass candle from Kmart and I’m pretty sure its fig & papaya or fig & passionfruit but it’s like 2 dollars and its the best candle I’ve bought. 

5. If you could see one thing behind your window every day after waking up, what would it be?

I just got back from going to the city with my brother cause the lockdown is lifted and we went to his endocrinologist and I just always end up falling in love with the cityscape so I would love to wake up and look down on the city below.  

6. What is something special about someone you love?

Though my brother makes me want to bash my head against a wall, he’s the strongest person I know. He’s trans and he is the reason I was able to be open with my family about my sexuality, his courage is something special. We are very close in age and literally have the same political beliefs so I feel at times that we feel very distanced from our parents who don’t really know/care about politics and that's made it easier for us to be so close. We are able to have conversations for hours about our beliefs like on our way to and from the city we were in the car for about 4 and a half hours and we talked non stop just about anything. 

Like yesterday a few of the conversation topics that were talked about were: American politics, Australian politics, abortion rights, a discussion about a book we had both read about intergenerational trauma and that topic continued into us talking about our fucked childhood and reading out an argument one of us got into online. 

That was a super long answer but in conclusion, just the bond we have is super special. 

7. Do you prefer lined, checkered, dotted or plain paper? Why?

Definitely lined. I have atrocious handwriting that slopes if I wasn't writing on lined paper lmao.

8. Do you have any tattoos? Do you want any?

I have really shitty stick and poke tattoos from when I was 13, here in Australia you have to be over 18 to get a tattoo and I was so desperate to get one I did it myself and I wish I hadn't because now at 17 I'm cool with waiting for another 12 months to get a super well done and proper tattoo.

Yes I definitely want tattoos lmao but i’m so glad i wasn’t able to get tattoo’s when i was 13, 14 and 15 because i would have shitty tv show tattoo’s like teen wolf tattoos that now at 17 i fucking hate that show. 

9. You publish the book you’ve always dreamed of publishing. Did you imagine it with hardcover or paperback? What colours do you see on the cover? Do you know what kind of book it would be?

i honestly have never thought about this but I just know my book is a hardcover. I think my book would be about a girl living in a cottage in the woods and a Princess comes along and they go on adventures together, they adopt several cats, they both practice witchcraft and pray to aphrodite or Freya and they fall in love (low-key kinda like tangled but without the long hair, tower, evil witch and oh yeah, no men, no violence, the only time they fight is when they are choosing the name for their cat) on the cover, it would be a background of a forest with the two main characters walking in a single file line with two cats following them. The main colours would be green, white and at times, grey. 

10. What song do you have stuck in your head now?

I had yummy by Ayesha erotica stuck in my head like 5 minutes ago and now it's perverted by Elita 

The questions I have are: 

1. What do you personally think the meaning of life is? Why do you think that? 

2. Is there any social media content creators that you hate-watch? 

3. The last time you felt seen? was it when you read a certain book or heard someone say something that deeply resonated within you?  

4. What do you associate the word “Ethereal” with? 

5. What do you find the hardest about living in your country? explain why? 

6. What are some political beliefs that are extremely important to you? (eg, abortion rights, immigration laws etc) 

7. Is tom nook capitalist scum? or just a kind tanuki just trying to help out? 

8. Do you listen to asmr? if so what type of asmr is your favourite? if you don’t, why not? 

9. Skins or Euphoria? 

10. Shows you used to like or fandoms you used to be in but now find just really cringy? 

thank you for tagging me @sweterki 

I’m going to tag @wormoffthestringg @florenzim @shysunsetlover @your-local-bi @yadomik @jewishdavid @doriangayjpg @swordfisherking @letsbegolden @bistan 

[chrismalcolmhnd2c]

Geometry Club

©Dave Mullan

©Adrian flickr

“Embrace nature’s brutal perfection”  Boyd Rice

Research the Narrative

The research required for this brief is simply to gather inspirational images from other practitioners. Add this to your blog/workbook with clear information as to where the images were sourced and who the copyright belongs to.

Tell the Story

Shape and form in environmental photography underpins the overall aesthetic, considering the underlaying composition of an image allows the photographer to explore the subject in new and exciting ways and help you see the photograph as a unique representation of the subject you choose.

Simple geometry can be found everywhere, the shapes formed by the play of light, structures intertwining, objects passing each other… training your eye to look out for strong shape to compose your subject is an important part of constructing strong, bold photographs. Waiting for the correct moment to press the shutter release is a skill in finding the right moment.

Look around your environment to find strong geometric images. Shoot 100 photographs with the main focus being on strong geometric shape, within an outdoor environment.  

Edit and refine: Complete worksheet

Make a contact sheet of the best images.

Study and ‘mark-up’ the contact sheet, making aesthetic decisions on your final selection.

Optimise your best TEN images Describe your decision-making process.

Submit: Series of TEN images on ONE A3 canvas 300ppi. Upload to my city.

Geometry Club Research

What Makes a Great Fine Art Architectural Photograph?

JUNE 22, 2018 · SHARON TENENBAUM

Every person you ask might have a different answer to the question, what makes a great fine art architectural photograph? However, in my experience, there are a few key factors that are necessary for transforming a good image into a great one.

Great architectural images often follow these 3 features:

·       Composition. In architectural photography, you need to use the language of geometric lines and shapes. These elements must create a harmonious balance within your frame. Without this component, not much can be done to salvage an image.

·       Simplicity. Once the shot is made, ask yourself: “What elements in the image are not adding to the story?” In other words, try to simplify your scene by eliminating unnecessary details.

·       Post-processing. Once the two factors above are covered, the work on post-processing begins. If you are familiar with my work, you might be aware that I’m a strong advocate of ‘creating’ an image and not ‘capturing’ one. This means accentuating and exaggerating the compositional elements mentioned above, and creating depth, volume, and balance through selective lighting.

Image 1 – BEFORE: cluttered, unprocessed and without a person in the frame. Even though the compositional foundation is present, there is still much work to be done on decluttering and gradient lighting.

Image 2 – AFTER: ‘cleaning’ the image of unnecessary details and implementing gradient lighting.

Until recently, this is where my creative process stopped. I don’t want to elaborate too much on the features listed above; instead, I want to talk about an element in architectural photography which I’ve only lately begun exploring.

Creative Shift

As architectural fine art photography is my passion, it’s been the subject of my images for over a decade now. My path of creating this body of work was a path of self-discovery. Even though some of my earlier architectural images are stellar and I would not have done anything different with them today, in my newer work, I am embarking on a creative shift. This shift is taking my architectural images in a different direction, so now, they are not just about celebrating form, but also about human interaction with the architectural environment.

Architectural structures, by their nature, are designed to serve a purpose for people. By eliminating people out of the composition, the photographer is celebrating the art of geometry and engineering above anything else. As magnificent as the design might be, by including a human element in the composition, the image takes on a new (and different) life form. The benefits are three-fold:

First, it adds a sense of life and warmth to an otherwise cool scene. An architectural image is naturally cold, comprised of concrete, steel and/or wood. By including even a single person in the image, we are warming up the scene and crossing the boundaries from the inanimate to the animate.

Second, it gives a structure a sense of scale and comes closer to the architect’s original intent in design, which is serving people for a specific purpose. For instance, Middle Age Gothic churches were designed to dwarf the scale of a human in comparison to the House of God they were entering. A church was designed to be of an enormous scale to give the parishioners an ‘otherworldly’ experience. If you walked into a Middle Age church and did not get that feeling, then the architect did not do his job right. This was done with the intention of making one feel small in the presence of the Almighty God. Likewise, an image of a church that depicts the sense of scale by including a human reference would convey that concept whereas the image without one would not.

Lastly, by adding a single person, we are giving the viewer’s eye a resting point. The psychological reason for this I can’t say, but it’s a fact. We tend to first spot the person in the image and use the rest as a background. That makes the image more intriguing on a few levels. First, as the photographer/artist, you now have the power to direct the attention of your viewers. You are saying to them: “Start here.” Second, it helps to simplify a scene that otherwise can be too busy with lines and shapes (as in the image below). Third, and maybe most important, it adds asymmetry or shifts the ‘center of gravity’ of an image to create a more intriguing composition.

Looking at the image below, we can see all the points I stated above exemplified, as the image without the cyclist is lacking warmth, a sense of scale and a resting point.

Image 1: With Cyclist

Image 2: Without Cyclist

Sharon Tenenbaum teaches Fine Art Architectural Photography Workshops around the world. To learn more about Sharon’s work and details about her upcoming workshops, please visit: SharonTenenbaum.com

Source: https://www.thephotoargus.com/what-makes-a-great-fine-art-architectural-photograph/

Matthias Heiderich

A self-taught photographer, Matthias Heiderich (b. 1982) explores urban environments, finding surprising angles and colours within cityscapes. His shots are framed in a distinct way, focusing on corners, sides and small sections of buildings. Consequently, he does not just record what he sees; rather he transforms the ordinary into dream-like spaces that suggest a futuristic universe. The minimalist images bring attention to symmetry, lines and patterns prevalent in the urban landscape. Primarily working in the realm of fine art, his pieces have also appeared in architecture and travel publications, such as Wallpaper* and Cereal. Since 2011, Heiderich’s images have been exhibited at galleries in Berlin, Barcelona, San Francisco, St Petersburg and Zürich. In 2014 Spektrum Berlin was published with the Parisian publisher Editions Intervalles. The images selected are an overview, illustrating how exploring lines, structures and space rejects the banality of city scenes, reforming them into an awe-inspiring collage of geometric shapes. www.matthias-heiderich.de.

Source: https://aestheticamagazine.com/geometric-architecture/

Architecture photography corner – in pictures

In 2014, Sheffield-based photographer and graphic designer Dave Mullen Jr started Geometry Club, a collaborative Instagram project in which people submit images of buildings forming carefully composed triangle shapes. Mullen is now creating an app to simplify the meticulous formatting process, and says the project is “a test of building an audience based on curating the same thing”. The account has attracted more than 25,000 followers and welcomes contributions by professional and amateur photographers. “I quite like the fact that sometimes you look at the photos and it’s not obvious that it’s architecture straight away,” says Mullen.

Photograph by @grg_mlll (US).

Photograph by @ferrypasschier (Netherlands).

Photograph by @mismaria (England).

Photograph by @davemullenjnr (England).

Photograph by @jagamac266 (Singapore).

Photograph by @marcclish (Scotland).

Source: https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/gallery/2017/jan/28/architecture-photography-corner-in-pictures

7 Tips to Spice up Your Photography Using Geometry

MARCO DE GROOT

October 9, 2017

Finding yourself in a photographic rut? Add value to your images by keeping these geometric principles in mind.

SYMMETRY

Symmetry lies at the heart of the laws of nature. It’s calming and pleasant to the eye when an image features a symmetrical composition. But a photo doesn’t necessarily need to be split directly down the middle to successfully incorporate symmetry. When an image feels balanced, you can achieve the same (and sometimes more interesting) result.

Look around on your next trip; you can find symmetry everywhere.

SHAPES

Using shapes is another way to creatively frame the subjects in your photos.

Squares and rectangles suggest conformity and order. Keep an eye out for these shapes and use them to enhance that feeling.

On the other hand, the circle represents unity, completion, and perfection. When used in an image, circular shapes can help draw the eye inward and keep the viewer’s attention on the subject.

Finally, triangles are a good way to focus attention toward a certain point. And, depending on the way a triangle is angled, it can evoke a calm or energetic feeling for the viewer.

CONVERGING LINES

Converging lines can be used to add depth and guide the viewer’s attention in a specific direction. These lines don’t need to be physical, per se, but can be created using a pattern that directs the gaze forward.

PARALLEL LINES

The use of parallel lines evokes order and rhythm in photography. Parallel vertical lines give the illusion of growth, while horizontal lines give the impression of calmness or tranquility.

INTERSECTING LINES

Diagonal or angled leading lines can make an image seem more dynamic. By highlighting these lines, photos become more active. Depending on your angle, intersecting leading lines can also help connect more than one subject or add depth to a photo.

PATTERNS

Patterns are a useful tool for both framing and composition in photography. When a frame is filled with shapes it can add to a photo’s drama or, when aligned, its order.

You can find patterns in window arrangements in buildings, shapes of tiles, pebbles on a beach, bricks on a wall etc.. When you know what to look for, you can find them all around you.

PERSPECTIVE

Sometimes, even a perfectly-composed shot can end up looking a bit boring. If that’s the case, try changing the perspective by flipping or rotating the image to find the view that makes it most intriguing.

Source: https://passionpassport.com/spice-up-your-photography-with-geometry/

Shoot 1 Contact Sheets

Contact sheets marked up with images chosen for optimisation 

I feel the above selected images could work well when optimised as they contain strong and repeating geometric patterns. The images are high contrast and colourful, while the ones chosen from the contact sheet below contain intricate patterns in the shadows created by the strong sunlight.

Most successful optimised images from shoot

Marked up contact sheet from 2nd shoot

Most successful optimised images from shoot

[eyesaremosaics]

4, 11, 15, 27

4. do you like your name?  is there another name you think would fit you better?

Not really. I’ve always thought Megan was a little boring and ordinary. It means “soft and gentle” which to me—sounds like a detergent. I always wished I had a more exotic name like Andromeda.

11. describe your ideal day

Hmm... wake up in the arms of the love of my life, make a healthy breakfast together and eat it out on a beautiful veranda overlooking a beautiful cityscape or green horizon. Listening to music, talking and laughing over mimosas and coffee. Doing yoga together. Then meeting up with a huge group of friends for a celebratory lunch of some kind. Going shopping afterwards, and then to the theatre to watch something spectacular in New York or London. Going out to a swanky place for dinner, and attending a glamorous party that goes all night afterwards. I like my life to be full of beautiful things and good hearted people.

Alternatively: I would love to wake up on the road, heading to Disneyland with the person of my dreams. Singing songs out the window, driving down the long stretch of highway. Stay at the grand California hotel (which I’ve always wanted to stay at), and leisurely go around the parks, taking breaks to swim at the hotel or have cocktails in the piano lounge. Sitting around the tiki bar, shopping in downtown Disney, having dinner at the blue bayou... on our way back staying at the Madonna inn, in the blue suite I’ve always wanted to stay in. Hanging by the pool... going in for a spa treatment in the morning. Then going out horseback riding through the hills in the afternoon.

Basically I just need to be rich lol pretty much, I just want to find my person, and travel the world with them in style. Acting on stage and in films, living in a modest bit nice apartment or home, having guests over for dinner parties... I love to host. Wish I had a space and the resources to do so.

15. five most influential books over your lifetime.

“Brave new world”—Aldous Huxley

A dystopian world that revolves around science and efficiency. In this society, emotions and individuality are conditioned out of children at a young age, and there are no lasting relationships because “every one belongs to every one else”. As a devout monogamist, the main character reflected my deep feelings of horror at losing ones individuality in this changing world, and also losing the sense of intimacy and connection that makes human relationships so special. His disgust at the casualness of sexual relationship, and interchangeability of ones loyalty is exactly how I felt. Like the last unicorn.

“Ishmael”-Daniel Quinn

Ishmael is a 1992 philosophical novel by Daniel Quinn. The novel examines the hidden cultural biases driving modern civilization and explores themes of ethics, sustainability, and global catastrophe. This book changed my life, and made so much sense to me.

“Frankenstein”—Mary Shelley

This book is so beautifully written, and of powerfully affected me as a teenager. This pervasive feeling of isolation and abandonment by those who were supposed to guide and protect you. Feeling outcast and condemned by society. The themes of feverish obsession and madness, met with the harsh cruelty of life. Death and loss... it’s a beautiful book. And a warning that when humans try to play god—disaster strikes. It’s a story of revenge, of longing. I related most to the monster, and wept many times reading of his experience.

“Interview with the vampire”—Anne Rice

Anne Rice influences my style of writing immensely. There is a lyrical, and descriptive quality to her writing that is so sensual. Really evocative but also layered with meaning. This book was a metaphor for her child who died of leukemia. The vampirism represented the blood disease, and Claudia a child who could not die. The book was her response to her grief. An empty echo at the ghastly nature of eternity, what exactly it would mean to live in hell on earth. Watching everyone and everything die around you. The fragility of life is what makes it beautiful by contrast when one is immortal. Yes of course I related most to Louis lol. But also to Claudia. Trapped for eternity in the body of a child. Forever helpless, but so vindictive and bitter in heart. What lies ahead for those who follow that spirit. The tragedy of letting your anger control you.

“The great Gatsby”—F. Scott Fitzgerald

F. Scott Fitzgerald is a major influence on me, his birthday is the day after mine, and his romantic idealism has always resonated with me. This novel in particular showcases the hypocrisy of pretense. How it’s what inside that counts and shows your true character. Basically everyone in the novel is a piece of garbage, except for Gatsby and Nick (though they end up participating in bad things as well, they are essentially good at their core). The scene at the end... when no one comes to his funeral.. just breaks my heart. This man who wanted so much to be loved, who wanted so much for people to like him... ended up all alone at the end of it all. This book highlights the cruelty and frivolity of the upper class, how people with privilege don’t recognize they have it, and so smash up other human beings as though they were merely toys that can be replaced. I remember crying and crying at the end of this book. Also, I related to holding someone in my heart so deeply. That they were all of life to me....and to have them throw me over for someone else. Ugh. Poor Gatsby. I just really related to him.

——-

27. do you feel like your outside appearance is a fair representation of the “real you”?

I think so... I wish my features were less crooked, and that I was less gangly and awkward, but I try very hard to take care of myself and my body. Especially my skin. I moisturize everyday, using multiple products. My purple contacts are a reflection of wanting to be unique, unlike anyone else. Also purple is a very spiritual color, enhances my mystique to others (or so I’m told). My aesthetic is witchy 1930s-40s. Occasionally 90s grunge or 70s secretary. I like classy simple clothing, very influenced by Audrey Hepburn, Vivien Leigh, Greta Garbo, Gene Tierney, and Katherine Hepburn’s style. Also a little bit of Tim Burton thrown in there, Wednesday Adams, Lydia Deets. Winona Ryder has been my hero since I was little. Also Dita Von Teese since I was about 14. They gave all lent influence to my style and presentation.

[dragonfics]

What’s in a name?

Chapter 2: Evening Visitors

Ship: Spicyhoney

Tags: Doctor Rus, patient Edge, LV issues, discrimination, dehumanisation, asylum-style setting, institutional captivity, forced institutionalisation, needles, minor medical procedures, unethical medical practice, angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: There isn’t much that can rattle Rus. But patient twenty-two, it seems, is an exception.

Notes: Small warning for a short, non-explicit sex scene between Rus and an original character. I’m also hoping to have the next chapter out within a couple of days! ^_^

Read on AO3

OR

Below the cut

Rus pulled on his gloves, locking the door behind him once Jackie had wheeled the med cart into the patient’s room. The old turtle looked up from his bed, squinting through milky green eyes. “Ah, my handsome doctor. Good morning, sweetheart.” His voice was brittle and croaky, and he gave Rus a toothless smile. Though his LV was above ten, Rus found it difficult to see him as a threat. He could barely stand on his own.

“hello, gerson” he said, returning his smile. “sleep well?” Jackie eyed him but said nothing, taking a pair of disposable gloves out of the box.

“Ahhh…” Gerson waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “They won’t let me play my music past ten. Hard to get any sleep without my music.”

“maybe i can talk to them,” Rus said.

“Forty-six,” Jackie sighed. “You know there are other people on the ward trying to sleep too.” He grumbled as she helped him off the bed.

“Gerson! My name ain’t forty-six, and you know it.” He pointed a crooked finger at Rus. “He knows it. The nice doctor knows it. Besides, if they don’t like my music, get them earplugs! Open the curtains for me, will you, boy? I don’t like living in a cave.” He tapped the shell on his back. “I have my own.”

Rus pulled open the curtains and red morning light spilled into the room. He could see the rocky mountains in the distance, black shadows on the horizon. “Step onto the scale for me here,” Jackie said, pulling it off the bottom shelf of the cart. She let Gerson lean on her for a few seconds before letting go, and Rus quickly recorded his vitals before helping him off.

“You know, doctor,” Gerson said, leaning on Rus as he guided him back to his bed. “When I was your age, I was as handsome as they come. Lots of ladies and gents knocking on my door, let me tell you. You must know all about it.” Jackie was rolling her eyes, but Rus laughed.

“less than i’d like, i’m afraid. open your mouth for me, please.” He took a swab of Gerson’s mouth and Jackie bagged the sample. “ready for your meds?” He helped Gerson onto the bed and he lay back, closing his eyes. “gerson?”

“Can I sleep now?” Gerson opened his eyes. They were unfocused, his expression vacant. “That’s all I get to do here, you know. Sleep.”

Rus nodded, moving his pillow under his head. “you can sleep.” Jackie ground his pills into a cup of water and Rus helped tip it down Gerson’s throat. He switched on the old radio before leaving the room, and soft piano drifted through the speakers.

Rus took a deep breath after shutting the door, swallowing thickly. He brushed the wet away from the corners of his sockets. “Hey.” Jackie patted his arm. “You shouldn’t get attached to anyone here, you know.”

“i know,” Rus said faintly. “who do we have next?” He flipped over the sheet on his clipboard and his chest jolted. Room twenty-two. “right. let’s get this over with then.”

When they opened the door to room twenty-two, the patient was sitting in his armchair next to the window with a book in his lap, as he always was. He turned around and cracked a smile, his red eyes simmering. “You smell nice, doctor,” he said, breathing in deeply. “Date tonight?”

Rus smiles wryly. “just you.”

“Lucky me,” twenty-two said with a chuckle. He allowed Rus to administer his tests and medication without complaint. After drawing a vial of magic from his arm, Rus checked the sample.

“the consistency is improving,” he told Jackie. “just at a glance. how long has he been on the new dosage now? two weeks?” Jackie nodded. “that’s good progress.” Rus made a few notes on twenty-two’s sheet. “how have your headaches been?”

“As headaches are. Painful.” A smile flickered across twenty-two’s face when Rus gave him a dull look. “A little less painful than they were, I suppose. But perhaps I’m imagining it.”

“have you been sleeping okay?”

“I’ve never been very good at that. Mostly I read and try not to dream.” Rus glanced at Jackie, frowning. She offered him a shrug, folding her arms. Rus cleared his throat.

“you have nightmares?”

Twenty-two’s smile was distant and lacking in its usual humour. “I’ve been here for almost ten years, doctor. I think you should be more concerned if I wasn’t having nightmares.” Rus’s soul shrivelled and his shoulders suddenly felt very heavy.

“okay… we can prescribe you ginger root, or—”

“No, thank you.”

“no?”

“I don’t think my problem is that I’m not getting the right medication, doctor.” At Rus’s silence, he grinned. “But by all means, if you’re dishing out free prescriptions, perhaps you’ll prescribe me someone to keep my bed warm. It gets very lonely here.”

“Alright, bud, I’m going to get you your lunch,” Jackie said. “Make sure he doesn’t get too lonely, doc.” Rus almost wanted to ask her to stay, still fearful of being alone with twenty-two. Better not to tip him off to the fact though.

He remained a safe distance from the bed while Jackie was gone, hovering by the door. Twenty-two watched him from his chair, his eyes never straying. “You can come closer, you know. I don’t bite without consent.” Rus peeled off his gloves and tossed them in the waste bag. He didn’t humour the quip. “So are you seeing anyone, doc?” Rus sighed and gave him a flat look. “Not asking for myself,” twenty-two said with a smile. “Just making conversation. There isn’t much else to do around here.”

Rus rolled his eyes. “no. this job doesn’t give me time for life.” Twenty-two laughed. “that’s funny?”

“It’s ironic. All I have is time. But no life.” Rus stared at him, and through his smile he could see that glimpse of what he saw in every patient here… defeat.

The door eased open and Jackie returned with twenty-two’s lunch—a bowl of porridge with a side of chopped carrots. Twenty-two looked at it dismally but accepted the tray. Rus watched him nibble on the carrot sticks as Jackie wheeled the med cart back out. “do we have any other food here? something a little more palatable? like chocolate?”

She shrugged. “That’s what’s on the menu. We don’t keep chocolate.” She locked the door and pushed the med cart away. Rus could see twenty-two’s silhouette through the curtain. He put the tray aside and returned to his book. Sighing, Rus returned to the break room and found his satchel. He dug out the chocolate bar he’d been saving for lunch and returned to twenty-two’s room. Twenty-two glanced up when he opened the door, lifting a brow bone.

“Couldn’t stay away?”

Rus slipped the chocolate bar from his pocket and placed it on twenty-two’s tray before quickly backing away. “don’t tell anyone, i might get in trouble.”

Twenty-two picked up the bar, slowly turning it over. “I’ve never liked chocolate.”

“well then i’ll take it back.”

He clutched the bar to his chest. “No.” He smirked. “Thank you, doctor.” Rus nodded stiffly before unlocking the door. Twenty-two peeled back the purple wrapper and glanced up. “You know, if you keep pulling stuff like this, I might start thinking you have a soft spot for me.”

Rus only spared him a second’s glance before locking the door behind him. He thought he could hear laughter on the other side.

***

After a hurried microwave dinner, Rus lay back on his bed, still in his work clothes. His apartment was on the seventh floor, and he could see right over the twinkling lights of the cityscape to the desert. The sun had set, and the sky was deep purple.

It was seldom that Rus left the house for a non-work related reason. At this point, he’d normally go straight to bed in the hopes of catching a few hours before he had to wake up for work again, despite the early hour. But tonight, he found himself scrolling through his contacts in search of a number he hadn’t called in months.

It only rang once before the recipient picked up. “hey hal… it’s rus. don’t suppose you’d like to catch up tonight?”

Sex had always been something of an occasion for Rus. Something he needed, from time to time, but not something he often had the opportunity to indulge in. Certainly not as often as he’d like. He had a few contacts he’d call upon when in need. Tonight, it seemed, was one of those nights.

Hal was one of the longest enduring casual relationships he’d had. Rus would even go so far as to call him a friend, though they hadn’t seen each other in months. Come to think of it, Rus couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept with anyone. Not since before his training started, certainly. So yes. This was much needed.

They agreed upon a bar in the food district, not a ten-minute drive from Rus’s place. It was happening at his, then. He ordered water and sat at the bar to wait. He’d changed out of his work clothes and damn if it didn’t feel good to wear jeans. Even on the weekends, he was more of a stay-at-home-in-sweatpants kind of guy.

It was a nice quiet Tuesday night, though in a city this small, the bars seldom filled up. There was a small group of elderly monsters playing cards in a booth, and a few having dinner at the tables. Rus was alone at the bar.

The air had a pleasant woody smell to it, accompanied by the ever-present undertone of desert dust. “Sure I can’t get you anything else, love?” The bartender asked, glancing over her shoulder from the sink. Rus shook his head.

“just waiting for a friend, thanks.” He startled when someone wrapped their arms around him from behind.

“Friend, huh? Well consider me flattered, darlin’.”

Rus sagged with relief, twisting around. “hal.”

Hal grinned, his leathery skin stretching around his snout. “Good ta see ya, Rus. Man, it’s been too long, hasn’t it?” He slid into the seat beside Rus, tipping his horned head at the bartender. “Two whiskeys, neat.”

“oh, i’m not drinking,” Rus said. “early shift tomorrow, and i drove here.”

Hal lifted a brow, his ear twitching. “So yer still doin’ the doctor thing, huh?”

“yep. still doing the doctor thing.”

Hal took a sip of his whiskey, rolling his thick shoulders. “Well if you ain’t drunk, how am I supposed ta get ya into bed!” He laughed raucously, patting Rus’s shoulder when he gave him a bemused smile. “Oh, lighten up! I’m just kiddin’. Y’know, yer not who I was expectin’ ta hear from tonight. It’s been a while.”

Rus grimaced, picking at the woodwork on the bar. “yeah, you know… work is busy.”

“So how’s the whole doctoring thing going fer ya?”

“it’s… interesting.” Rus’s work at the facility was strictly classified, so he went with the admin-prescribed cover. “i’m working with terminally ill patients.”

Hal’s brown eyes went wide. “Shit, that’s gotta he rough.”

Rus took a sip of his water, suddenly wishing it was alcohol. “yeah. so uh, how about you? how’s the construction project?”

“Ah, same old. It pays the bills. Usually.”

Rus swallowed. “and how is your mother? any better?”

Hal’s grin faltered. “Ah… actually, we lost her a few months back.”

“oh… hal.” Rus squeezed his arm, leaning in instinctively. “i’m so sorry.” He let Hal draw him into a hug, patting his back.

“Aw, s’alright. We’ve had time to mourn, y’know.”

“i had no idea. you could have called me, or—“

“Well you were busy, weren’t ya? Always trainin’, always workin’. It’s hard ta catch ya, Rus.” He smiled though, squeezing Rus’s shoulders. “I get it. Work’s important. An’ this was never meant to be more th’n casual anyway, right?”

“i’m sorry… i wish i could be around more often. i still think of you as a friend.” One of his only friends, come to think of it. He’d lost touch with most of the others over the past year.

Hal chuckled. “Even though all we do is fuck?” There was a glint in his eyes, his pupils dilating.

Rus turned his face away, hiding a smile in his drink. “come on, we do more than that.”

“Yeah?” Hal leaned in, and Rus could smell the faint hint of whiskey on his breath. “Like what?”

“like…” Rus cleared his throat, self-conscious of the eyes on them, few as they were. “like friend things.”

Hal chuckled. “We headin’ back to yours?” He guided Rus’s hand between his legs, where Rus felt growing hardness. “‘Cause if we are, now would be the time. Or we might have to find a comfy spot in the bathroom.”

Rus snatched his hand away and gave Hal’s pierced ear a flick. He slid off his stool and picked up his bag. “yeah we’re heading back to mine, come on.”

  Even at night, Rus could see the desert dust swirling through the city streets. During the day, the sky had an orange haze to it, washing out the blue. And whenever he left the curtains open before leaving for work, his apartment was stuffy by evening. He’d turned the air conditioning on the moment he’d arrived home, but it was still hot.

He could feel a trickle of sweat running down the back of his neck. He reached up to wipe his forehead, gasping in Hal’s arms. The bed springs creaked beneath them as Hal moved his hips. “i’m close, hal,” Rus groaned. “oh—fuck, i’m so close.” A coil of pressure built slowly inside him and he dug his fingers into Hal’s biceps.

“Fuck yeah, yer gonna make me come, baby. You want it inside ya?” Hal groaned, nuzzling Rus’s neck.

“yes—yes, inside me.” Rus squeezed his legs around Hal’s waist, drawing him deep. Outside, he heard the horn of a car, and the faraway cry of an eagle. An image popped into his head, an image of red eyes, a deep scar, a complacent smirk—

Rus’s pleasure stuttered and faded, just as Hal grunted and warmth trickled down his thighs. He gasped and gripped tight onto Hal, trying to banish that image, that voice, deep and rich—stars, why now?!

Hal rolled off him and he stayed glued on his back, staring at the ceiling. “Mmm…” Hal leaned over and kissed his skull. “Fuck, I’ve missed you. You got yers, right?” Rus nodded mutely, swallowing. Hal chuckled. “Yer lookin’ a little shaken up. I rock yer world that hard?”

“you…” Rus finally broke out of his daze and sat up. “don’t flatter yourself.”

Hal grinned. “Oh I will. Mind if I use yer shower?” Rus nodded and Hal disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Rus to try and fathom how he’d let patient twenty-two get so deep into his head.

***

“How did your date go, doctor?” Twenty-two smirked, eyeing Rus from his armchair.

“what makes you think i had a date?” Rus asked blandly, pulling on his gloves.

“You’re not walking straight. That means it went well, I take it?”

Rus froze for a split second, heat creeping into his cheekbones. He quickly recovered, taking the needle from Jackie (and pointedly ignoring her smirk). “can i have your arm, please?” he said, and twenty-two complied. He allowed Rus to test his vitals and take a few samples without complaint, but not once did his smirk falter. 

“Forgive me, doctor,” he said as Rus and Jackie packed away their supplies. “Things are very boring around here, and I’ve read the books on my shelf so many times already I could recite them to you.” He grinned. “Anything for a good story.”

Rus peeled off his gloves and tossed them in the waste bag. “well i’m afraid i have none for you.”

“Pity,” twenty-two said, his red eyes glowing. “I’m sure you have plenty of interesting secrets that would make for very entertaining stories.”

[popwasabi]

How some stoners named “Harold & Kumar” made Asian Americans proud

Being Asian American can make you feel invisible at times or worst, the butt of every bad joke.

Sure, lots of Americans love Asian things like sushi, kung fu, anime, and tacky calligraphy tattoos that don’t mean what they say they mean but they don’t particularly care about having the people themselves present or even represented.

And typically when we are represented it tends to look like this.

Or this.

Or this.

(I said what I SAID!)

Now Asian Americans are not by any stretch the most marginalized or even the least represented people in the larger American cultural diaspora, but they’re fairly consistently forgotten or grossly stereotyped in our media regardless and this has larger consequences. Representation is important because it makes a people’s presence known to the larger majority.

Our pop culture has unfortunately played a role in erasing, appropriating, and misrepresenting Asian folk. An action movie may feature a white actor with extreme martial arts skills fighting in Hong Kong but might not have a single prominent Asian voice throughout the plot and those that do are typically gross caricatures. The Cyberpunk genre loves Asian aesthetics from its Tokyo inspired neon lighting, futurist cityscape, and ramen carts abound but boy, is the populace typically dominantly white.

(I love this movie but considering how many Asian things and aesthetic choices there are in it would it have killed Denis Villeneuve to have at least ONE background Asian person??)

It’s not shocking then that 2004’s stoner comedy classic “Harold & Kumar” starts with a pair of white dudes beginning their own adventure by leaving one of the titular heroes in the dust to do their dirty work because “Asians love math” or something. Despite not being a stoner, at the time at least, I related hard to this movie and its characters as the film touched on a number of triggers I had growing up.

2004 was a formative year for me as an Asian American. For the first time ever, my history classes were touching on Asian culture with discussions on Japanese feudalism which awakened a deep sense of pride I didn’t know I had at the time. I was watching NHK samurai dramas about Miyamoto Musashi and later the Shinsengumi which led to me begin training in kendo. Anime had suddenly become more mainstream with the premiere of Shonen Jump and pirated subtitled anime littering all of YouTube. But more importantly, and distressingly, I became more aware of my identity because it was increasingly getting called out as I was getting older.

I’ve been labeled a number of different pejoratives growing up through my teens.

“Nerd.”

“Weirdo.”

“Loser”

But none cut deeper than “Chinese boy.”

I’m not Chinese, of course, in fact I’m half white and half Japanese but try telling the various ignorant lunkheads I knew growing up to respect and differentiate between them all. Hell, better yet tell them I’m just as American as they are too.

Being labeled “Chinese” hit a very personal chord with me. To lots of Americans, unfortunately, we’re all “Chinese” and the various qualities that make each of our cultures unique are inconsequential to them. We AAPI’s all individually take a measure of pride in those unique qualities and to have it all sequestered under a blanket “Chinese” label was beyond insulting.

(And I don’t care what you tell me or how much you hate China’s government, this is a THOUSAND percent a dog whistle.)

For Asian Americans, there have been various ways one reacts to these insults. Some of course, who learned confidence at a younger age, would shrug it off or ignore it, some would outright resent it but for me at least it only made me dig my heels in deeper. Yeah, I’m Asian, so fuck you!

That energy is deep “Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle” as these two Asian American characters not only navigate a crazy night of searching for an open White Castle to satisfy their stoner cravings but also confront various microaggressions from outside and within the Asian community.

Harold, of course, struggles with his confidence. He can’t stand up for himself when the aforementioned two white bros from the start of the film saddle him with extra work. He laments doing the typical Asian thing of being too passive when confronted by authority. He can’t find the will to ask the girl next door out because again he sees himself as an impotent Asian guy unwilling to make the first move. The whole movie he struggles with his inner feelings because he’s been taught and programmed to a certain extent to be timid because that’s the Asian identity.

Meanwhile, Kumar’s character is about resisting conformity to those same stereotypes but in the worst ways. He co-opts black and hip-hop culture as seen in his messy apartment room. He fights his dad who is forcing him to take his doctor's exam, something he doesn’t want. Generational pressure is common in all cultures but it’s an entirely different animal when it comes to the Asian upbringing. Kumar embodies this resist from beginning to the end of the film and though he does decide to take the test, it’s important that he chooses to do it, not his dad, and certainly not because he’s Indian. He decides that choosing to be a great doctor doesn’t mean he is becoming a stereotype because his identity is not just about being Asian.

(Every Asian kid has heard their parent make an unintentional innuendo.)

Harold and Kumar’s differing approaches create a charming pair for the film to bounce off as Kumar’s brashness often lands them in trouble and Harold’s timid demure keeps them down in its own way and the two finally come together when Kumar learns to understand the difference between conformity and choice and Harold learns conformity doesn’t define him.

Both characters confront all kinds of microaggressions against their identity throughout the film. Cops making fun of their names. The extreme sports bros making every racist joke every Asian kid has every heard growing up at them. All Asian Americans have grown up wanting to deliver the perfect comeback or “fuck you” moment against these types of people and when our heroes triumph and put them all in their place there is undeniable catharsis as it happens for everyone who has seen this movie.

(Seriously, there isn’t a more satisfying good triumphing over evil moment in film for me than the conclusion of this particular plot.)

The movie confronts stereotypes in more ways than one though. Throughout the movie Harold and Kumar are confronted by a situation that makes them think it’ll go one direction but ends up (usually comedically) the opposite. Harold and Kumar try to hook up with two beautiful transfer students who turn out to have horrible bowel issues. Harold is reluctant to go to the Asian American club party because even he believes in his own ethnic stereotypes of them but it turns out it’s a banger of a party with plenty of weed to boot. Harold and Kumar are picked up by a lonesome, disfigured tow truck driver and are shocked to find he’s married to a beautiful woman. And the aforementioned extreme sports bros turn out to love cheesy pop music and romantic songs.

Basically, the whole movie is about giving a big middle finger to all our preconceived notions we have about identity and it's brilliant.

(Nothing wrong with cheesy pop music, of course.)

“Harold & Kumar” is great for other reasons too. John Cho and Kal Penn still play greatly off each other. There’s plenty of great one-liners sprinkled between each scene. The entire journey to find White Castle burgers in the middle of the night is a fairly genius premise for a stoner comedy still. And Neil Patrick Harris playing “himself” is still iconic.

Parts of the movie haven’t aged, well of course. There’s some bad gross-out humor, some lazy gay panic jokes and not to mention some sexist quips that don’t land well in 2020. Also, let’s just not talk about the sequels.

(I still find this scene amusing though.)

That said, “Harold & Kumar’s” first film in this munchie saga is not only a grade-A stoner flick but simply one of the best films ever when it comes to bringing that much needed representation of the time to Asian Americans. Watching Harold & Kumar stick it to their annoying white antagonists while delivering a “fuck you” to every racist joke I ever heard growing up is still cathartic as hell and made me feel proud to be Asian American during a turbulent time for myself growing up.

Though it’s not Masterpiece Theater by any stretch, Harold & Kumar will always hold a special place in my heart and remains forever “high” on my list of favorite movies of all-time.

Happy 4/20, y’all!

[luvdsc]

i think its always so weird to meet someone your age who grew up completely different from you? i feel like thats when you really notice the difference and omg youre so brave haha i would never dare to go on a motorcycle 🤧 id rather just walk hehe oh, my parents told me similar stories!! even tho they grew up there and everything, they barely recognise the city anymore which is kind of sad to think about :( and, yes, that was my first time meeting my grandparents!! it was kind of weird (1/4)

because i had never met them before, but it was really exciting and great to meet them for the first time!!! and, NO, i have never visited farms before for school lmao we dont really farms around and SAME, my relatives just had chickens everywhere!! it was so weird and funny afsadfa and, no, there are barely any asians around me 🤧 its weird because i just always grew up feeling incredibly out of place at times and i dont know, i felt so at home in vietnam 💕 and i LOVE b99 too!! (2/4)

ive only watched the first five season of it tho because the other seasons arent available here!! but ive watched b99 soooo many times now that its truly insane haha and, yes!! you should definitely watch rpdr 🤧 its sooo dramatic and fun sdfsdfs oh, sad to hear that the ghibli films arent available in your country :( i hope they will be soon because the ghibli films are truly great! and, yes, the heir is the one with krystal!! whatd you think of it? and youre right, asian dramas are a (3/4)

whole new level of drama, but i feel like that makes it soo great? and, yes, id take that money any freaking day!! i mean couldn't they just use that freaking money and elope or something like that?? and im trying to get into painting because i used to do it a lot more when i was younger and i wanted to pick it up again!! what about you? and the last book i read was all the bright places!! im looking for books to read!! youve got any recs ? have a great night/day too 💕💕(4/4)

✿ ✿ ✿

ooo yeah i get it! i really love meeting new people and learning about new cultures and differences in growing up! and it’s also really cool to hear about the similarities too :’) the motorcycle was a wild ride, literally, but i was like “when else will i get to experience this?” jaslkjfdhasaf i did enjoy walking around though because it’s so beautiful 💕 omg yeah it’s really sad to see that so much has changed in the city that it’s unrecognizable for them, but meanwhile, the villages have basically stayed the same after all these years ): and that’s awesome!!! i hope you had a good time with your grandparents 💛

ahh i think i’m just used to seeing farms if we drive a bit outside of the cityscape, and quite a few of my school field trips were to farms, but omg you should visit one sometime maybe! it’s really fun meeting all the animals and interesting to learn about how to run a farm. did you get to collect eggs from the chickens in the morning? that was the fun part for me LOL and oh gosh, i can’t even imagine ): i hope you get to visit vietnam again soon 💛💛 do you want to move elsewhere after college? or will you stay in your hometown?

omg well season 6 and 7 are just as amazing and funny as the previous seasons!!! they won’t disappoint :’) i see all the memes from rpdr and i’m like yes, i must watch this. ah yeah, unfortunately, i have to go through those sketchy websites to watch studio ghibli. i’ve never watched it before i came to college surprisingly aksdjfhlkasjdf one of my suitemates made me watch a few with her when she found out LOL omg it’s been so long, but i remember thinking “damn they’re supposed to be high schoolers????” aslkdjfhalskf i also really like rachel in the drama and the actress that played her, so i watched fight for my way because of her :’) also i liked the friendship between the two main characters’ mothers! and minhyuk was such a good friend, and i thought the on air radio confession between krystal’s character and his was really cute akjdsfas

omg i think they’re a bit too dramatic for me asjkldhfalsjkdfas like if some guy grabbed my arm real hard like that, i’d be like “get tf off me now before i pepper spray you”  oh, but i really liked age of youth!!! i preferred the actress from the first season for eunjae though. and yes!!! also they were barely in a relationship to begin with? as yuta says, i can find love but i can’t find money. omg i love painting! what subjects do you like to paint the most? which medium do you use? i’ve been busy with painting for my quarter project and working on my coding assignments for class rip. and oooo i just searched for that book and found its pdf online; i’ll bookmark it to read later! ahhh i haven’t read a book in so long, but i really love fangirl by rainbow rowell and any poetry books by lang leav! i hope your week has been going well, honey bee 🌸