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erodasfishtacos · 4 years ago

Text

#HendallReunited

prompt: request was to write broad but to write something angsty

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: language, sexual content, angst

Harry always had issues with saying ‘no’ to people. He never quite grew out of his manners even when he should have.

He said ‘yes’ to way too many things- signing autographs for rude fans and paparazzi, and agreed to way too many things Jeff suggested.

Saying yes to everything didn’t make his life any easier is the thing. Especially when it came to his wife. She was usually left with the aftermath of him being too nice.

The media painted Y/N in a negative light occasionally and so did the fans because she would stand up for Harry and not let him say ‘yes’ to every single request.

She would tell disrespectful fans he’s not signing autographs because of the way they were screaming and interrupting his work.

Harry wished he could do it himself - admired that his wife didn’t give a fuck what people thought about her. He cared entirely too much what the world would think.

The couple didn’t fight about much - no, not really. Normal couple stuff for the most part. But this was the exception, this is where Y/N found most of their turmoil.

Every few months it would rear it’s ugly head and they’d find themselves in the same position over and over again.

This time - it was really fucking bad.

The couple had been staying in their Los Angeles home for the last few months whilst the singer finalized his album and began promotion.

It was boring meeting among boring lunch outings to get all their ducks in a row. Jeff - his manager the main orchestrator.

He was a great manager and a good friend, but it was also business too which Harry didn’t always comprehend.

At the end of the day, Harry was making Jeff millions upon millions of dollars. But Harry didn’t think that way.

Harry was in a stuffy conference room at the The Late Late Show to work on the script and ideas for the show. Promo had been nonstop.

He was a bit tired as it was nearly just hitting eight in the morning and he had been up late with you - having some late night loving in the hot tub.

“As for guest - Kendall Jenner,” James Corden’s producer states. All the men agree but Harry is taken aback.

“Why...why would we have my ex-girlfriend as one of my guests?” Harry interrupts, confusion knitting his brows.

Kendall and him didn’t end on a bad note - not at all. They hooked up a few times after their ‘break-up’ but once he’d met Y/N she was understanding when he cut it off.

Y/N wasn’t necessarily jealous of the model, but didn’t love when they’d run into each other at events. She was still overtly flirty with Harry without much shame.

Harry also didn’t have an desire to see her or host her as a guest on the show. She was nice but he wasn’t interested in being friends with her. They didn’t have much in common and he was head over heels for his wife.

“The media will eat it up, dude. Harry Styles and Kendall Jenner reunited on a show after four years?” Jeff smiles, the others nodding in amicable agreement.

This is one of this times where Harry needs to say “no,” that it’s disrespectful to his significant other to use an old flame for promo for his album.

He already knows ‘hendall’ will be trending within minutes and he can’t imagine how that would make his parter feel.

“I just...this doesn’t seem like a good idea?” Harry begins hesitantly, making it sound more like a question than a statement.

“Why not?” Eric, one of the writers asks.

“Y’know, I’m married. I don’t think m’missus would appreciate if I did somethin’ like that just for promotion,” he states, scratching at his jaw uncomfortably.

“Look Styles, we’re not asking you to fuck the girl. It just a interview, c’mon,” The executive producer gruffs - wanting those guaranteed views.

Harry swallows - looking at his manager and then at everyone else at the table looking at him for an affirmative answer.

“Uh-sure,” Harry fumbles, feeling anxiety rise into his throat. Fuck, he’s such a god damn pushover.

He’s trying to find his voice to go back on his agreement but the meeting wrapping up and people are leaving with final handshakes.

Harry doesn’t know how to tell Y/N what is going on. He’d been keeping in stored in the back of his mind, not ready to have a blowout.

He never found the perfect time to bring it up and now it was too late. It was the morning of the show and he was due to be at the rehearsals this afternoon.

Harry had finally decided he was going to tell her this morning over coffee but forgot that she had a girl’s day planned with a few friends.

She was already out to breakfast with them when he woke up. His phone had one text from you.

Hi baby. I’m out with the girls. See you at the show tonight. I’ll meet you there around six! Love you!

He was fucked royally and he had no one to blame but himself. Maybe it’d be okay, maybe she’d roll her eyes and tell him he’s an idiot.

Realistically he knew that was just a sweet dream at this point.

—

Harry was fidgety and kept mucking up his lines during rehearsal as it got closer to the showtime and his missus arriving.

Kendall had arrived for hair and makeup without seeing her ex-boyfriend yet. He dreaded seeing the model.

Kendall and Y/N had met a few times at different events. It was always cordial. Kendall was always casual - their relationship was never more than a couple fun dates and sex.

They were kind to each other when they met but he couldn’t deny how much harder his partner kissed him on the mouth afterwards.

Before he know it, his wife is hugging him from behind as he talks to a producer about which cameras to look at.

Y/N noticed the way he tensed up at first and thought about how unusual that was for him. Normally, he’d lean back into her with his full weight causing them both to stumble and laugh.

He slowly, cautiously turns around and his face relaxes a little bit but not completely. “Hi baby,” he hums, leaning in for a kiss.

“You look so handsome,” she replies, admiring his brown pinstriped suit and her pearl necklace that he’d snagged awhile back. She thought it looked better on him anyways.

“You look even better, s’fuckin’ pretty, love,” he gushes, coming back in for another kiss - a little too sensual for the setting.

She was donned in a cropped white shirt, showing of the smooth expanse of her tummy. An oversized blazer of Harry’s, ripped jeans, and heels.

Harry thought fleetingly he couldn’t wait to fuck her after the show. Then remembered that mostly wouldn’t happen.

Reggie, the musical lead, slides up to you two. He smiles wide at you, saying, “Can’t believe you agreed to the guest this evening.”

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, Harry’s raise nearly to his forehead, but when she opens her mouth to ask him to explain they’re interrupted.

“Harry!” The leggy model trots over to the little group. Dressed in an interesting one-piece suit that has sewn in heels. She looked beautiful as ever, of course she was a model.

Both of them turn towards the oblivious girl, “Kendall,” Harry replies with a twinge of anxiety - eyes repeatedly looking at his significant other’s profile as multiple emotions flash.

“Hiya, you’re Y/N right?” Kendall smiles kindly, offering her manicured hand.

She accepts, “Yeah, uh-good to see you again.”

Harry knew she had connected the dots quickly in her head. The hurt, confusion, had hit her eyes before narrowing into full-blown rage at her partner.

“I promise I’ll go easy on him,” Kendall jokes before pinching at Harry’s cheek teasingly. The model was a natural flirt with everyone she got along with.

“Oh, sure,” she replies lamely, attempting to not let her feelings burst out in that moment with her husband . She knew it wasn’t Kendall’s fault.

“I’m going to go grab a bite to eat. I’m probably gonna puke when we do ‘spill or fill’. See you guys soon,” the model waves before trailing off with her assistant.

“Did you kn- of course you knew she was your guest,” Y/N seethes, turning to fully face the guilt-stricken-singer.

He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact, “I did.”

“How long have you known for?” She demands to know, keeping her voice at an angry whisper to not draw attention.

Harry wasn’t going to lie to his love, “About two weeks.”

Y/N replies with a laugh, “let me guess, you let Jeffrey talk you into this bullshit, again.”

His silence is all she needs to know it’s true.

“For Christ’s sake, of course,” She huffs bitterly, “what’s even worse is you didn’t fucking tell me. What the fuck?”

Harry bites his lip, not able to rasp out anything but a pathetic, “m’sorry, love.”

He wasn’t usually good at taking responsibility during a fight. He was stubborn at best but he couldn’t deny his way out of this.

“You will be, you-“

They were cut off by the staff, the audience was trailing in and Harry needed to get mic’d up now.

“This conversation isn’t over,” she points her finger at his chest before storming off to the side of the stage where she’d watch from.

Fucking shit.

Harry was a performer. It’s easy for him to push things to the back of his mind so he can entertain a enamored audience.

But tonight, he was struggling. Eyes flicking over to the teleprompter more than usual, his demeanor not as vivid and carefree.

Not when his wife was glaring daggers at him from stage right. Her hand constantly at her mouth, biting at her nails - a nervous tick of hers.

“Next up, the one, the only, the beautiful model and one of my good friends, Kendall Jenner!” Harry introduces when she walks out and waves at the crowd.

They hug and when they pull apart they step over to where they were playing the game. Either answer the question or eat a nasty food picked out by the other.

They weren’t allowed to see each other’s questions before the game started- both going on blind which put Harry more on edge.

“Okay, Kendall. Rank the members of One Direction on most to least attractive or you will be eating...” Harry spins the table, “Cow tongue.”

She flinched at the disgusting plate, smirking up at Harry before considering her course of action, “I think I can answer this one.”

He wasn’t looking forward to her answer. Neither was Y/N by the way she nearly shaking her foot off her leg.

“Okay, I got this. You - the most attractive, then uh- Zayn....Louis...Niall...Liam,” she laughs, “but all of you are hot!”

Harry fake laughs and acts like he’s impressed by her answer as the crowd roars and cheers.

When Kendall picks up her notecard - she laughs in surprise at the question before looking at him with bright eyes.

“Okay, um, bull penis!” She giggles before starting the question, “I’m dying to know this answer. So...your first album HS1 was released four years ago, correct?”

He nods, apprehensive.

“Which songs were about me? Especially was only angel?” She laughs at Harry’s pale expression before without another thought he shovels the rancid food into his mouth.

Harry looks off to the side to see that his missus is no longer sitting there. Just Jeff - who gives him a thumbs up.

The first thing he did when the show ended and the lights dimmed was bolt off to Jeff - ignoring Kendall who was about to say something to him.

“Where’d Y/N go?”

He thought she might have went out to get a breathe of fresh air but for the next hour and a half he hasn’t seen her once.

“She said she wasn’t feeling very good. She told me to tell you she’d meet you at home,” Jeff shrugs unbothered.

“Damnit!” Harry curses loudly, ripping out of the microphone and the little pack in his back waistband.

“Harry,” Jeff scolds at his unprofessionalism that was abnormal for him.

“No! Don’t fucking ever ask me to do shit like this again. You fucking knew what questions were on those notecards and you said it wasn’t anything about our previous relationship.”

“Harry-“

“Don’t fucking talk to me. You’re a real shit manager sometimes, you know that? Do not contact me tonight or tomorrow for that matter, you douchebag,” Harry barks before storming off towards the dressing rooms.

All the employees were standing around in shock, staring at the popstar as he ignored everyone around him.

Harry was famously known for being a kind, amicable guy. So it took everyone by surprise to hear him speak like that. Even Jeff was shaken up a little.

—

The house was pitch-black as Harry pulled up. The house’s first floor was lined with large, bay windows and not a single light was on.

He could find one room illuminated which was your bedroom. A dim side lamp must have been flicked on. He imagined her purposely turning off all the lights on the trek up the staircase.

Harry didn’t want to admit how much he was trembling with awful nerves and anticipation as he slowly turns the knob of the shared bedroom.

Y/N wasn’t laying in bed as he expected but found the bathroom door shut tightly. He noticed a little yellow bag with tissue paper off to the side by a dresser.

He knocks on the oak door, not daring to enter without permission.

“What do you want?” Y/N answers, tone flat and emotionless.

“Can I come in, baby? Please...” He wasn’t ashamed to beg for forgiveness at this point. Hearing the emptiness in her tone scared him shitless.

“I really could care less,” She replies coldly from her spot in the scalding water decorated with bubbles.

Harry had never felt more unsure in his life as he enters the bathroom. Y/N had gotten proper pissed at him or vice versa before - right before a concert, an award ceremony but she’d never left without him.

Her head was laying against the foam headrest and her body was covered by the soap water. She looked tired and her eyes were puffy from crying.

Harry kneels next to the tub, “look at me, please pet.”

Y/N takes a moment before turning her head and opening her eyes. They were distant, disappointed in the man in front of her.

“I should have told you about Kendall. I should have put up more of a fight to get someone else on instead,” Harry admits, his hands desperately wanting to reach out for her.

She shakes her head with a heart-wrenching sniffle, “it’s not just tonight, Harry. We’ve had this conversation continuously for three and a half fucking years. You try to please everyone, despite them giving no fucks about you.”

“Are you that much of a pushover? You let your ex-girlfriend flirt with you in front of millions. Do you know how embarrassing and unfair that it to me?” She wipes at her eyes to stop the tears spilling over.

Harry hadn’t thought of it like that - to be honest. But he agrees, it wasn’t fair and downright cruel to do that to her.

What? All because he couldn’t say ‘no’ because he didn’t want people to be mad at him? It was pathetic and ridiculous.

“I-I won’t let it happen again, lovie. I mean it, I truly do,” Harry whimpers reaching over to cup her cheek and wants to cry when she pushes him away.

“You’re a broken record. You’ve said that a million times before but don’t change,” Y/N points out, eyes boring furiously into his wife’s.

“I’m goi-“

She cuts him off with a sharp edge in her tone, “Just leave me alone, get out.”

The man’s face crumbles and for a second, she wants to just end the fight and makeup but then nothing would change.

“Baby-“

“Get out!” She finally bellows, tears streaming down her face steadily.

He obliges, head hung in defeat as he closes the door behind him. He stands there’s blankly for a second before going to the walk-in closet.

He’s pulling out a fresh pair of cotton underwear and a large sleepshirt for his partner, laying them neatly on the bed.

Harry doesn’t know what to do with himself while he waits so he pulls out his phone to mindlessly scroll.

He throws it against the wall when he sees #hendallreunited is trending number one on Twitter at the moment.

The singer strips down to his briefs and sits with his back against the tufted headboard, staring blankly at the wall.

His eyes catch a neon pink pair of his swimshorts tossed carelessly on the decorative vase in the corner of the room from the night before .

“Fuck, baby - no need to rush,” Harry groans into Y/N ‘s mouth as she pushes him until he’s sat on the edge of their California king.

She reaches impatiently for the tie on his neon pink swimshorts and yanks them off his slim, peach-fuzz thighs before throwing them onto the vase without a care that it was worth over twenty-thousand pounds.

After edging her in the hot tub with his fingers and mouth, she wasn’t waiting any longer before clambering onto his lap, pulling her swim bottoms to the side, and sinking onto him.

He felt guilty when his cock twitched at the thought of it. But when reality set back in, the arousal with the memory evaporated.

It isn’t much longer until the door is pulled open and Y/N’s padding into the room with a towel secured around her.

She looks at the clothes Harry set out for her and pointedly walks past them to pick out her own nightwear.

That really shouldn’t make his eyes tear up as he watches her slide on a similar pair of panties and an oversized shirt. Spotting a purpling bruise on her upper in thigh from his mouth.

Y/N silently walks past the bed and to the bedroom door, looking back before bleakly stating, “I’m going to sleep in the guest room.”

He frowns, wrinkles appearing on his forehead, “You can sleep in here, love. I’ll take the guest room.”

Harry doesn’t get a reply as she just shakes her head and closes the door loudly behind her.

It’s just - he’s never seen her this upset. She was usually fantastic at communicating her feelings and hashing things out.

She wasn’t one for the silent treatment or ignoring the topic. It had his chest rising faster than usual with anxiety. The serious of it overwhelming him.

He states at the wall for a very long time without wiping the fat tears brimming over his trembling lips.

He couldn’t sleep - it was half past three and he hadn’t even laid down or clicked off the lamp.

Harry accepted sleep wasn’t coming so he begins to tidy the already clean room. He picks up the shorts and tossing them in the hamper.

He refolds some joggers he’d carelessly shoved in a drawer and when he went to move the little yellow bag - curiosity got the best of him.

There was no card and he wasn’t sure who it was for or if it had been a gift already give to Y/N that she had returned home with.

Harry really shouldn’t - but he does. Gently tugging out the paper and reaching in to feel fabric.

Pulling it out, it takes him a minute to identify what it is - two baby onesie. Who was having a baby?

He lays them in front of him, eyes widening in surprise as he reads what is printed across the black cotton.

The first one was the colors and font of his upcoming tour merch with the photo he used on his tour announcement with the heeled boot and white pants.

Love on Tour - Due Date: September 2025

With Special Guest Appearance from Baby Styles

The second one was simple and read across the chest:

I’m having your baby (and it is your business) with embroidered kiwis all of over it.

He frantically reached back into the bag to pull out a bundle of pregnancy tests tied with a silk bow.

They weren’t necessarily trying for a baby but they’re weren’t not trying either. Harry wanted a baby as soon as his missus was willing to give him one.

“No, no, don’t one,” she’d whined into his mouth when he’d reached over to grab a condom off the nightstand.

“Oh sweet thing, you want me bare? Fill you up?” He croons happily, coming back to grip at his thick base and tease at her entrance.

“Ye-yeah, H. Please,” (Y/N) whimpers, bucking her hips in the hope he’d slip inside her.

Harry hums, “Might give you a baby though, y’want me to knock you up?”

“Want it, wan-“

He cuts her off with a hard, blissful kiss as he thrusts all the way inside before pulling out to do it again.

“Gonna give it to you, whatever you want, lovie,” he promises.

The two had never used protection afterwards. It had start about seven months ago and from his knowledge she’d still been getting her periods regularly.

Occasionally, he would palm at her flat tummy and pout, “Haven’t put a baby in you yet, ‘ave I?”

He was so ecstatic but disappointed in himself for ruining everything and pleasing everyone other than who he should be.

Harry needed to fix this. He didn’t want Y/N to lose the excitement of having their baby over a dumb choice of his.

The man’s out of the room and not knocking before entering their guest room. His now pregnant love is laying on-top of the covers.

One hand subconsciously on her belly - which she removes and places next to her when her wife walks in.

The television was on but the volume was low and Y/N wasn’t watching it in the first place anyways.

Harry sits on the edge of the bed, “I opened the yellow bag.”

She looks at him with wide eyes, a little taken aback. she was going to surprise him tonight and forgot to store it away for another time after the fight.

Harry has happy tears dribbling down his cheeks, “you’re having my baby?”

Y/N nods, running a slight hand through his curls. She still had a nasty knot of anger and uncertainty in the pit of her stomach.

It pains her, wanting to share this moment of excitement with Harry but she just couldn’t. The uncertainty of whether Harry would put everybody’s needs before his own baby.

“Come back to bed, want t’talk and celebrate. M’so bloody excited,” Harry murmurs, a large smile decorating his face as he smooths a palm over the expanse of her tummy.

His wife shakes her head and places a hand over his, feeling the cold metal of all of them. “I want to be left alone.”

The twinkle in Harry’s eye diminishes to devastation as he realizes that he’s fucked up so badly that she doesn’t even want to celebrate.

“Pet, can...we just forget about it tonight and be happy ‘bout the baby?” Harry asks selfishly, knowing it was unlikely she’d agree.

She didn’t, a firm expression on her face, “no, I have a lot to think about.”

“Like wha’?” He asks anxiously, unknowing of quite the reason she was so furious.

“Like how you say yes to everything and everyone. We talk and talk about how you need to say ‘no’ and do what’s best for you - for us. You agree to and never follow through”

She takes a shaky breath and continues, “it’s affected our relationship before when you’ve had to cancel our vacation away from all this for a charity concert you’d agree to perform at last minute, dinner reservations because you told your friend we’d be at their art showing they wanted you at.”

Harry knew she was right. He did those things. He wanted everyone to be happy with him - to a fault.

“Tonight was just icing on the cake, you allowed your manager to talk you into hosting your ex on that show. Out of all the people in the world - her. With flirty questions and jabs from her. You let that happen. You care about making everyone happy but in return you don’t care how it affects me. That’s pretty shitty.”

“I’m...I’m really fucking scared you’ll do that even when we have the baby. I need you to put them first and right now...I’m not sure if you’re going to. You can’t put the person you want to spend the rest of your life with first now, how do I know you’ll do it with the baby?”

Harry chokes out a sob as he presses his forehead against the bed, his broad shoulders shaking. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried this hard - years ago maybe. He felt like his wife didn’t have any faith in him and he was to blame.

He looks up at her with swollen eyes - at a loss for what to do or say. He loved her so much and was over the moon that they were going to have a baby.

“How do I fix this, darling? You’re right, I really fucked up. M’sorry,” Harry cries, grabbing at her hands and she allows it.

“Just saying you’re sorry won’t fix it,” Y/N replies flatly, letting Harry squeeze and kiss at the backs of her hands.

“Then what do I bloody do to fix this?” Harry raises his voice in frustration, staring in bewilderment at his wife.

Y/N narrows her eyes at him, “Do not raise your voice at me, Harry. Actions speak louder than words.”

Harry swallows harshly, pressing one finally kiss to her hand. “Okay.”

“Okay?” She repeats.

“I love you, I’ll fix this,” he promises with conviction. He knew what he needed to do and do it tomorrow. So he and his wife could enjoy her new pregnancy.

“I need space tonight, I just...please”Y/N says quietly, rubbing at his shoulder.

It wasn’t the first time they’ve slept in separate rooms because they weren’t getting along but they normally found their way back to each other before sunrise.

Harry nods, lip still tremble with the residual anxiety of the conversation. She allows him to press a soft kiss to her mouth before leaving the room.

—-

Cafe Habana was busy - but no one was paying much attention to Harry and Jeff. It was the morning after and Harry had demanded a meeting over breakfast with his manager.

“Y/N pregnant,” Harry states bluntly after their drinks arrive.

“Oh? Congratulations, dude. That’s exciting!” Jeff leans over to pat him on the shoulder, a big smile.

“The baby is due in September. My next tour starts in next July. The baby will be about nine months. I want to be at home with them for the first year.”

Jeff doesn’t look pleased, “what are you getting at Harry?”

“Reschedule the July and August tour dates. Tack them on to the end of the tour,” Harry lays out flat.

He hadn’t talk to his wife about this but he knew this was how he could prove that he could say ‘no’ and not be a pushover.

“No Harry. Look I get you’re excited about the baby - but that will be such a fucking hassle,” Jeff frowns, sipping his mimosa.

“I’m not asking, Jeff. I’m telling you that’s what needs to happen,” Harry replies firmly, tone strong and unwavering.

Jeff is definitely taken aback by his client’s conviction.

“While we’re on the topic, do not ever put me in a situation like you did yesterday. It affected my wife and I. And I will choose her over this career any day.”

The manager nods in surprise, “Harry, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not asking for an apology but if you ever pull something like then I’ll be looking for a new management team. Are we clear?”

Jeff once again nods, unsure of where this is coming from but at the thought of losing his biggest client would be disastrous so he’d do whatever to accommodate him.

“Consider it done,” he tells Harry before clearing his throat in a slight panic.

—

Y/N woke up to an empty house. She was restless, she asked Harry to prove to her that he could be what she needed. However, it was a bit unfair because she didn’t know how he could do it.

It’s just…she had a baby to think about. They both needed to be put first and if it took a gnarly fight for Harry to realize it...so be it.

“Baby? Love, where are you?” She hears Harry echo through the whole house. She was sat in the kitchen, on a stool by the island, idly sorting through mail.

“In here!”

Harry jogs in, panting like he sprinted from the garage up to the kitchen. He comes to stand in front of the love of his life.

“I might have not completely fixed everything but...I tried,” Harry tells her, cradling her face in his large palms. “ I just got back from lunch with Jeff. I told him about the baby.”

He takes a deep breath before continuing, “I rescheduled tour dates so I can be with you guys at home in London for the first year. Then...maybe you guys can join me after?”

“Harry…” she’s at a loss for words.

“And I told Jeff that if he ever puts me in a situation like that again, I’m firing him.”

Y/N stares at him, in awe and admiration of the man she chose to marry and keep forever. His face was so sincere and vulnerable.

Harry didn’t know whether it would be enough. If it wasn’t he’d keep trying but all he could do was hope. He waited with bated breath as she processed his words.

“Baby, you-for me?” She murmurs as she stands up and crowds into his space. He instantly wraps her up into a tight hug, missing her touch.

“Of course, pet. I’d do anything for you, I mean it. I’d quit this whole career if you wanted tha’,” he tells her truthfully - lips brushing her forehead.

“I love you, so so much,” Y/N murmurs, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“We’re havin’ a baby,'' Harry sighs dreamily into her mouth, tongue sliding against hers. A large hand came to palm at her belly.

“Yeah, m‘having your baby,” She giggles as he begins to trail the kisses down her jaw and neck - pressing her into the marble countertop.

“Should we name it Kiwi?” Harry rasps as he slides the tank top strap off her shoulder so his lips can meet the cap of her warm shoulder.

“We are not going to be that celebrity couple who names their baby something weird,” Y/N groans as he grounds his hips into hers with intent.

THE END

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1kook · 4 years ago

Text

crunchyroll & rail

the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !

SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality, RATING m (18+) WC 8.7k

NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….

Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast.

Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.

In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office.

To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5.

He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”

Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses.

Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful.

You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.”

Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.”

“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.”

It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking.

You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever.

And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours.

Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together.

(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.)

Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be.

You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you.

Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber.

Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend.

The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary.

You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days.

But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.

(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.)

The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like.

According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites.

You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?”

You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.”

You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind.

Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”

For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into.

“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway.

He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin.

“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear.

“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass.

You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you.

The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.

The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak.

Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead.

And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat.

Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts.

They go like this:

Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really.

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively.

In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once.

“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you.

It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome.

Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve.

The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek.

His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts.

“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.”

He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles.

The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild.

“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums.

“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again.

But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning.

Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.”

Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“

“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment.

“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“

“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, “yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him.

His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned.

There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.”

Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.”

Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.”

A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.”

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“—

The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear.

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.

Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer.

Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”

“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”

It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole.

“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips.

“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise.

He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath.

Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.

“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes.

It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue.

It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger. “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…”

You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?”

He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles.

“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over.

Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”

The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.

It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more.

Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them.

You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub.

Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor.

Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face.

In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention.

Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?

“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock.

“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand.

His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane.

It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh.

Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be.

You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds.

With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter.

You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic.

“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock.

He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you.

Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip.

You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl.

It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”

You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully.

Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?

Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.

“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.

Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”

“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin.

Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said.

It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away.

Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“

“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself.

You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you.

He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”

Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”

You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once.

“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.

He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth.

“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets.

True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you’ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever.

You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries.

It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”

“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you.

Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”

Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question.

That’s how you know he’s a keeper.

It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest.

“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”

Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”

You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”

A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.

You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.

Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”

Definitely Namjoon.

#networkbangtan #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook #Jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader smut #bts fic #bts smut #mine

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neocatharsis · 3 years ago

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Ten on his new Represent capsule, grappling with creativity, and evading genre lines.

As Ten Lee - a vocalist and dancer in K-pop groups NCT (with whom he debuted in 2016) and Super M, and Chinese group WayV - is musing over his proclivity for partnering music or visual styles in a way that others deem strange, he veers off on a tangent. “Anything can be matched… except juice and coffee,” he says, suddenly. “Those two should never be.” Ten is infamously anti-fruit. It stems from a mistaken process of association in childhood where “I had the image of a spider and the image of fruit mixed up,” he laughs awkwardly, “so now whenever I put fruit in my mouth, I think there’s spiders in my mouth.”

Random abstractions such as this pepper his rapid-fire conversation, like small fireworks fizzing through the dark. Excitable, enthused and sharply alert, if Ten’s energy was visible it would be a shimmering mantle of gold and silver dust. As a dancer, he moves with a sinuous, controlled power that can shift from elegant to explosive on a single beat. As a visual artist, the Bangkok-born, multilingual 25-year-old recently added the title of designer to his growing list of achievements, launching an already sold out collaboration with the bespoke merch platform Represent.

Aptly, he named his collaboration “What is ??? THE ANSWERS”, for although being a chameleonic artist is one of Ten’s greatest strengths, the personality traits that enable this created within him question marks around how he saw himself fitting into the world. “People ask me, ‘What kind of music do you like?’ And I say, ‘I like R&B but hope it sounds rock’. And they’re like, ‘That doesn’t make sense’.” It was troubling to Ten that people began telling him who he was and how he should be, instead of accepting him as is.

In a recent Instagram Live, the myriad of Ten’s contrasts tumble forthwith. He’s the doting cat-dad. His inner emo, who loves rock music, shows off dried roses, with the stern, black, geometric lines of the large tattoo on his inner right arm sometimes visible. But he’s also delicate in a way, with his butterfly tattoo and hair lightly permed, who names daisies as his other favourite flower, and plays Fousheé’s breathy TikTok hit, 'Deep End'.

“Have you seen the image where I have my name in a cross in lots of different languages?” He pulls the image up on his phone. The design sits on his Represent long sleeve tee. “I was thinking [about this], like, what you’re saying... Ten has this luvvie flower side and a very ‘rawwrr!’ side. I’m always like, ‘Ten, what kind of person are you?’ I do ask myself that, too, because everything I like is so different [to the other].” He could have conceded, and reined himself in. He’s pushed back instead. “I thought, ‘I can be anything I want, I can be this in the morning and this at night. I can be any person I want to be’. And that’s what makes me comfortable and happy.”

On his Instagram, Polaroids feature scrawled messages, like “Don’t tell me what to do!” and “Whatever! I’ll do it my way”. The designs of his collaboration seek to challenge being boxed in by other people’s standards, thus limiting ourselves. The recurring symbol of a cross tipped with arrows is a nod to the Chinese letter for 10, but doubles as a plus sign. He’s added it to his Instagram, writing “TEN_+•10” in his bio. “A plus sign can mean that you’re adding on and growing.” He points to another version of the arrow-cross, one with short diagonal dashes between its points that symbolise light. It means, he says, “that I’m radiating. I’m burning, I’m active, I’m doubling myself.” He touches his forearm, where crowning his geometric tattoo is a blazing sun. “I have this, like, if you want to be the light, you have to burn. I relate to that.”

This isn’t to say Ten’s self-exploration is complete. While celebrating his strengths, the artwork also portrays parts of himself not yet conquered. He admits to being a chronic overthinker: “Even very small things that happen to me, I rethink a thousand times, and I get stressed out because of the things I do. Like, the main theme [here] is me overthinking but trying to find an answer even though it doesn’t have any answer.” Fittingly, spiral shapes dominate his designs, looming large amongst bright, bold shapes that evoke 80s Pop Art and graffiti, though Ten shies away from defining himself as “fully an artist, I’m not in the position to say things like that yet.”

“I’m still learning and trying new things. You learn by getting different elements from different people and I’m in that stage now.” He enjoys wandering the infinite halls of Instagram and Pinterest where he screenshots art that he likes, lost in the images, often for hours. He explains that he’s mostly influenced by whatever his current visual obsession is. “I’m interested in tattoos lately so my paintings look like tattoo designs. I’m that person who, when they see stuff, it goes into my brain and instantly comes out from my hands,” he laughs.

Ten’s introduction to art and design was through his mother, who believed music, art and sport were more important in a child’s development than traditional academia. “She didn’t care if I got an A* or not, just don’t get an F or a D,” he grins. Like any kid forced to do something, Ten railed against spending his weekends at art school. He attended but he didn’t draw. He befriended his teacher and other pupils and, as they worked, he chatted. “I was a very talkative kid! When I came to SM Entertainment (in 2013), I had a lot of my own time because my parents were in Thailand and I was alone. I had to absorb all the new culture and adapt to a new environment.’” When he felt surrounded by “negative energy”, he began drawing, enamoured with the space and freedom it offered because in art, as he often says, “there’s no right answer.”

There is, however, sometimes a middle ground. His goal was to make the Represent collection accessible to his diverse fanbase. “I wanted to make things that people can easily wear because it was my first project to make something with clothes and it’s a collab. If you go too far out, no one will get it. If you go too far back, people won’t reach for it. So finding the middle ground is important but that’s the hardest thing to do. If it’s my own project, I’ll be like, ‘I’m the president of this brand, I’m gonna make all the weird clothes that I can imagine!’”

He sought second opinions to ensure his designs landed the way he hoped. “I have a lot of good friends around me - my choreographer, (SHINee and Super M member) Taemin hyung, my manager. I randomly ask people I’m comfortable with and have known for a long time, like Mark (Lee, of NCT and Super M). Mark has the same kind of perspective as me, but I’m a person who is arrghhh!” He waves his hands in the air. “And he’s very calm. I need a person who is opposite of me because when I’m in a mood, I talk nonsense - ‘I wanna do this, I wanna do that, I wanna make this!’ - and Mark’s like,’Bro, calm down’,” he says in a rather uncanny impression of the Canadian-Korean.

Ten works fast when he’s drawing. He has to. He describes his personality as someone who can't wait until the next day to do something. “I’m very impatient,” he smiles. “If I’m going to paint or draw, I’m going to finish it in, like, two hours. I can’t sit down for three hours.” When inspiration hits him, it’s off the back of deep contemplation, sometimes about the mundane - “Like, why do the cats come to me when they’re hungry only? Is it selfish or instinct? - at other times, something affecting him emotionally.

But whereas his job as a singer and dancer sees him project his energy outwards, art offers the opposite. He’s often alone in his room when he works. As is for many artists, the right mood is fundamental. “When I’m in a good mood, I can’t draw,” he half-sighs. It’s also a multi-sensory process. “Smell or the temperature of the room, that really helps me draw. I light three or four candles. And when I draw, it’s kind of heavy, the feeling,” he explains. “It feels like you’re sinking into something, into yourself, and everything seems so small. Everything narrows down into me, my pencil, the paper.”

The more work he does in different creative mediums, the less Ten’s desire is to keep them separate. His art, dance and music influence each other, whether it’s customising his own collaboration pieces, a choreography video in an art gallery or dancing underwater with a film crew. When someone tells him that something won’t work or match up well, he refuses to let the idea go until he’s attempted it.

“I’ve had that since I was young. I think everything is possible. If you don’t try, you don’t know. When people say it’s impossible, like dancing in water for three minutes, I’m like, then let’s make it possible. You don’t need to walk a straight line [in life], you can walk this way,” Ten says, pointing along an invisible line before switching sharply in direction. “Then go back on track, go that way, come back. No one should tell you to walk in a line, I don’t see the point of that.”

#nct #wayv #Ten

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pastelpaperplanes · 5 years ago

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Calling in a favor - Part 1 - Cops and Mob AU

A plot bunny got loose last night and after checking with Pastel, I wrote the first part of what looks to be a multi shot. Be aware two of my OC's are gonna be characters her alongside those already established for this AU.

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Slag was going to go sideways soon, and Megatron had borrowed time to try and prevent it.

It had all started with that new hire, that gorgeous siren with an aft that was just sculpted for high cut attire the entertainers at his nightclub wore.

Orion Pax.

A sweet, soft spoken mech who’d practically stumbled through the door one day in loose fitting yet still somehow fitting attire, and half begged for a job as if he was begging someone not to kill him.

At the time Megatron had thought little of it, he was young, the scene would scare him off in a day or two.

One night in and the young mech with lips perter than those he’d seen on some femmes, which became even more optic catching with that red lipstick, and he was the new favourite of his patrons.

Megatron hadn’t minded, more than happy to accept the uptick in patrons who wanted to see the new singer/dancer his club had to offer.

He’d joined his patrons more than a couple times now to admire the new view, and found his lap full of the young mech on more than one occasion, very eager to please his new boss this one, and the view was always so much better up close.

Once the patrons were gone, he’d made a habit of giving Orion one last drink on for the night, on his personal limitless tab, which he always got a rather timid ‘thank you sir’ from the bot who was always so much meeker and timid off the stage, from there just a couple words were exchanged before Orion was off for the night.

Megatron swore the mech shrunk when his stage persona faded away, or at least, he was always trying to make himself seem small, less likely to draw attention.

A good trait to have really.

Alas, it was hardly enough to keep Shockwave off the young mech.

Now again, Megatron was no fool, few tried so hard to get on his good side without ulterior motives, and there was a high chance he was a very dedicated to the act informant for the Elite Guard.

But there was equally a chance that he really was just a poor sod laid off from his old job by the current mess of an economy Iacon faced and in desperate need for the money to keep the tiny apartment that he lived in, the place had been scouted by some of his mechs to check the story, and everything came through that the mech was telling the truth about being just that desperate for a job.

Shockwave however, was not so easily convinced, and no matter how many times he’d warned the one opticed mech to not cause a mess with the new employee, it felt like he was pulling on a slipping lead, and Shockwave was the enraged hound he was trying to keep from slaughtering the poor innocent pup he had set his one optic on.

He’d caught the mech twice now threatening to make sure that no one would find Orion’s body right to the rightfully terrified mechs face.

He’d had stern words for the mech, but he could practically see them going in one antler and out the other as that one red optic glazed over.

Shockwave was unfortunately in that mindset of ‘he was right, and he’d prove it’.

A state that, in any other situation, Megatron more than welcomed, it certainly kept the spilt energon off his servos, but this time, when the mechs target was Orion’s fresh energon, well, he was having to put his pede down.

At the present moment he was locked in his soundproof office, he had shoved a slug of extra credits to Orion and told him to get a cab home instead of walking, using the credible excuse of the mild acid rain outside to get him safely back to his shoddy apartment as possible.

Then he’d kept Shockwave behind by giving him every menial locking up task he could, the shady dealings done for the cycle it was mostly cleaning up the nightclub.

Shockwave had vocalised his displeasure once during that time, a withering glare and Lugnut snarling from the main door the behemoth stood by swiftly shut him up.

Shockwave knew him hounding Orion had put him on Megatron’s ‘I tolerate you because you’re useful’ list, and he was going to have tread very carefully for a while to get back off that list… but it still stung to realise that his boss really was that far gone under the siren spell of that mystery bot claiming to go by the designation ‘Orion Pax’.

Eventually Megatron ran out of tasks for Shockwave to do, and finally released the mech for the night as well as telling Lugnut to go home, Strika likely had dinner ready for him, he passed them bot a slug of credits to pay for the over time before he retired to where he was now, in his locked office trying to figure out what to do.

He couldn’t keep this up, having to keep an optic on Orion and Shockwave each to make sure the later didn’t find a way to do in the former when he wasn’t looking. It didn’t leave much of his attention for everything else, and that could become very costly if he wasn’t careful...

He couldn’t get rid of Shockwave, he was too useful, and knew too much to just let go.

And he was not his brother, he would never kill a mech like Shockwave over something like this, it was a waste of use.

Orion was an innocent mech who just wanted to earn enough to keep his helm above the slag of this world, and he doubted he’d recharge well if he just let Shockwave have his way and offline the entertainer for the apparent crime of being able to do his job…

He brought the tips of his digits to his optics and rubbed, trying to get the residue buildup out of the seams around his optics.

As he pulled his digits away, his optics landed on the one picture frame he had on his desk.

It was a picture from his younger vorns, back when Megazarak ran the show and he was second in command.

Leaning on the back of each of his broad shoulders, where the two bots he knew that, through the molten slag of the pits, and the emptiness of space, would always have his back.

Sol and Neb, abbreviations of their longer full designations, split spark twins who he had befriended by happenstance when they had stumbled upon him beaten half into the slag of a gutter.

They’d been dressed all fancy, out for a night on the town to have some fun.

They’d been pulled into the fight Megazarak was still embroiled in when they tried to help him to his pedes, bleeding sparks he’d assumed at a time.

Then one of the mechs who’d way laid him had grabbed Sol by the neck and well…

That was the cycle he learned just how quickly an enraged femme could offline a mech with the heel of their shoe.

The stiletto had gone right through the optic and pierced the processor, dooming the mech to the Well right sharpish.

Neb hadn’t even missed a beat, put her shoe back on, just as her twin had pulled out a wicked looking switch blade that had some very nasty hooked edges to it.

The greying mechs friend didn’t take well to his friend being done in with a shoe.

He’d charged.

Now Megatron hadn’t been in the best state, and when things started to really move, it had become a blur he couldn’t follow, past a rather noticeable spray of neon pink as the mechs neck was slit across the front and sprayed all over a nearby wall.

He’d passed out completely from the helm trauma not much later, and had woken up in a very nice hotel room all patched up and Megazarak scowling and pouting on a very plush chair not far from the equally plush berth he was on, med-patches slapped on haphazardly, he had assumed as a result of Megazarak being a terrible patient and their ‘saviors’ not really having much experience with first aid.

They’d come in not long later, introductions had happened, and somehow, they’d never lost touch.

He quickly learned they were the all or nothing types, once they were on your side 100%, there was no wavering in their loyalty, and their morals were very flexible when they didn’t come to other femmes or sparklings.

Some of the things he’d seen them so easily do to mechs had floored him in a way that sometimes still put a chill down his back strut.

What really mattered was, when the time came to pick a side between him and Megazarak, they hadn’t even hesitated to stand by him.

Megazarak barely put up a fight, it would have just prolonged his death, and there was no point making the tragedy of the situation stretch out any more than it had to.

Not long after that though, they had come to them, and told him, rather flatly he remembered, that their sire, a famous starship captain, had been diagnosed with a terminal and rather fast acting disease he’d picked up when traveling with his mate and ship to one of the distant colonies.

They had at most an orn to spend with their creators before both returned to the well, their carrier would follow their sire’s spark at most a cycle after their mate passed.

He’d hugged them as tight as he could, and promised to stay in touch, they all knew what this meant.

The inheritance would come, and with it, the family’s starship fleet.

Saying the twins came from wealth would of been a laughable understatement.

But the facts stood.

Family meant too much for them, and it was their duty to follow the family legacy as the captains of the fleet, specifically the flagship.

A new one, built for them on orders of their sire.

They’d depart Cybertron within the orn of their creators passing, and likely only return to Cybertron, let alone Iacon, infrequently for the rest of their cycles.

He missed them dearly, but he was also happy for them.

They were the only two bots he knew, who’d been able to bow out in grace from the Mob, and not have anyone come after them.

Mostly because of how much terror they’d instilled into the sparks of those who lived through their time being his left and right hand.

The more he thought back on the good times, the more an idea formed in his helm.

He needed an outside opinion, someone's view of things that didn’t have a major bias in the current situation, but who still knew all the background context to understand the severity of the situation he’d found himself in.

He picked up his phone, and dialed the number he had long since memorised.

It rung twice before it went through, a bubbly, yet sultry voice coming over the line, if he was anyone else that voice alone would have had him smitten.

::This is Nebularburst, Co-Captain of the Transgalactic Flagship Polaris speaking, how may I… Mega! You called!::

He chuckled. “I see you noticed the call number.”

::Oh hush you caught me off guard! Normally you send me and Sol a com message saying you want to call first!::

That was true. “I apologise, I was in a bit of a hurry to call you… something has come up… and I need an outside opinion to help me make the right decision.”

Neb’s tone shifted from the happy babble she’d started with to a tone he recognised as her ‘down to business’ manner. ::I’m all audios.::

So, he relayed the situation, from hiring Orion Pax as an entertainer, to that night where he had to hold back Shockwave for over two joors to make sure the mech wouldn’t try and catch the poor scared half witless entertainer on his way home.

Neb dutifully listened to the whole sworded tale, and waited for him to finish before she spoke, and the moment she did, he knew she had an idea.

He’d known her too long not to know how to read her by her voice alone, they’d been able to do little else for decavorns now.

::You have his work contract in your office right?::

“Of course, I have it right here… why?”

::Is it the same kind of contract we’ve been using since Sol suggested it?::

Oh, oh now he saw where she was going, he checked the fine print, there it was, tucked away innocently enough. “It is… tell me Neb… I wish to cash in a rather large favour from you... when will the Polaris next be docking on Cybertron?”

::Within six cycles actually… we were hoping to surprise you with a dinner while Polaris is taken through the motions. But this situation is more important than a nice meal out to catch up…::

“Next time perhaps… if we do this, you’ll keep him safe?”

::Of course we will! Hmmm… wait… hold up… Sol’s just saying something over the bond… oh… oooh! Oh my Primus! Mega! We’re so proud of you!::

He wasn’t going to lie to himself, her sudden burst of excitement over the line startled him.

“What?! What are you talking about? Has something happened?!”

::Happened? … Oh… Oh Megaaaa… don’t you see what’s happened? No… no of course you haven’t… you’re pride and work have gone and given you a blind spot again... :: She paused to sigh. :: I guess I’ve got to spell it out to you over the com and not get to the see the face you’re about to make when I say it…::

That wasn’t good, he was already flinching back a bit, bracing for impact.

::Hmm… Mega, my dear old bricks for a processor friend… you’re… in… love…::

----

Hope you like it Pastel!

#I HAVE #NO WORDS #NADA #ZILCH #OTHER THANBBBRBRUH #this is perfection ommmmmmfg #you really REALLY out did yourself jesusFIVKINGCRHIST #you talent is just off the shits i hope you know that #god.DAMNB #THANK YOU #transformers #fic #submission #cops and mobs creations

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recentanimenews · 4 years ago

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IN-DEPTH: How Did Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba Become Japan’s Hottest Domestic Franchise?

At this point, it’s safe to say that Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba is one of the biggest franchises this decade. The manga series sold more than double what One Piece did at its peak in 2020, the Mugen Train anime film has outgrossed Hayao Miyazaki’s Academy Award-winning Spirited Away to become the king of the Japanese box office, and the franchise is estimated to bring in 270 billion yen to the Japanese economy by itself this year.

Looking at all of that, there is no question that Demon Slayer is the hottest domestic property in Japan right now. But how did it get here? Let’s examine how the little manga series from new author Koyoharu Gotouge became a cultural phenomenon in Japan.

Demon Slayer’s History with Jump

Before the Demon Slayer anime started, the series was running in Weekly Shonen Jump, one of Japan’s top manga magazines. The series started in Jump on February 15, 2016, and had modest success, with around 3.5 million copies of the manga series printed and sold as of February 2019, just a few months before the anime premiered in April 2019.

During Jump Festa 2017 — an annual exhibition for series being released by Shueisha in Weekly Shonen Jump and their other manga magazines — the first chapter of Demon Slayer was given out in a sample booklet alongside other new series that had started in 2016, such as THE PROMISED NEVERLAND. Outside that sample booklet though, Demon Slayer barely existed in the mind’s eyes of attendees, with gazes glued to NEVERLAND and BORUTO as the new hot series.

It wasn’t until Jump Festa 2020 (held in December 2019) that Demon Slayer got some time in the spotlight, with the Aniplex booth doing its best at showing off the series that had become such a hit over the previous summer.

Demon Slayer at the Aniplex booth during Jump Festa 2020 (photo: Daryl Harding)

Even though the collected manga volumes weren’t selling as much as one might expect from the now behemoth of a series, Demon Slayer was slowly gaining traction among fans, but wouldn’t really break out until just before the first episode of the TV anime aired on television in Japan.

The Outside Influences Brought into Demon Slayer

When the Demon Slayer TV anime was announced in June 2018, it was revealed that the studio Ufotable would be adapting the series. The Aniplex-affiliated studio is widely praised for their work on the Fate franchise, which has culminated with the Fate/stay night [Heaven’s Feel] film series. Ufotable-produced works are known to already be event-type series, and with Demon Slayer being their first Weekly Shonen Jump adaptation, it was a series to look forward to on that point alone.

First Demon Slayer TV anime key visual (source: Anime Eiga)

Just before the series premiered in April 2019, it was also revealed that popular singer LiSA — who was then mostly known for her work on the Sword Art Online openings, including the wildly popular theme to the Ordinal Scale anime film “Catch the Moment” — would be singing the opening theme for the series, with the first preview of the song at Anime Japan that year. LiSA went on to have a solo concert at the Yokohama Arena on the last days of the Heisei era in April 2019, selling out the 17,000 capacity hall.

youtube

AnimeJapan 2019 Trailer

Music can be a huge element in propelling the popularity of a series in Japan. Some of the biggest anime over the last decade was supported by their opening and ending themes, which kept the anime in people's minds. Demon Slayer’s opening theme “Gurenge” became such a hit in its own right that it dragged the rest of the series along with it. This formula worked to bring Your Name to the forefront of Japanese pop culture in 2016 — you couldn’t go anywhere in Tokyo without hearing Radwimps. And the double whammy of “Gurenge” and “Homura” (the theme for Demon Slayer: Mugen Train) has helped the series achieve even more success.

Rounding out the series was the star-studded voice cast who all have their own fan bases. Voicing Tanjiro is Natsuki Hanae, who was best known at the time for Ken Kaneki in Tokyo Ghoul; Zenitsu is voiced by Hiro Shimono, who voices Connie in Attack on Titan, and the boar himself Inosuke is voiced by Yoshitsugu Matsuoka, who voices Kirito in Sword Art Online. Nezuko's voice actor Akari Kito, who largely played side characters up until her casting in Demon Slayer, would become a well-known name and go on to play many more lead roles after the series became popular.

On paper, the breadth of talent involved in Demon Slayer far exceeded that of just any TV anime series. The production committee, led by Aniplex, was banking hard on people giving the series a try before the first episode had even aired. And it worked.

Topping the Film Charts before the First Episode Even Aired

Demon Slayer: Mugen Train has topped the film charts since it first premiered on October 18, 2020, but it’s not the first time the series has been in theaters. Prior to the TV airing of the first episode on April 6, 2019, the first five episodes were shown in eleven theaters across Japan starting on March 29. The screenings were dubbed “The Bonds Between Brother and Sister” and topped the mini-theater rankings, with over 10,000 people going in just the first three days.

Ironically the press release from Aniplex announcing that the screenings were being extended in early 2019 said the “excitement for Demon Slayer is at its peak!” If those screenings were anything on the mountain of the popularity of Demon Slayer, they’d be right near the start of the trek.

“The Bonds Between Brother and Sister” Visual

Due to the immense popularity, the two-week special screenings were then extended for another week at all eleven cinemas, which were coming in at Number 1 on the mini-theater rankings (for screenings in less than 30) for the two weeks it was originally scheduled for.

It’s no surprise then that just after these screenings had finished, and during the early broadcast of the anime on TV, that the production committee ordered the Mugen Train arc — which directly follows after the ending of the first season — to be produced as a film, according to industry sources.

Demon Slayer’s Evolving Popularity Throughout Its Airing

Hiroyuki Nakano, the editor-in-chief of Weekly Shonen Jump, spoke to Nikkei Entertainment in the March 2020 issue of the magazine on the slow success of the manga series, explaining that “normally the number of sales of a series increases gradually during the broadcast, but the number of copies sold of Demon Slayer exploded when the broadcast ended.” Nakano alluded to streaming services helping the anime series escalate the popularity of the original series by giving people the accessibility of being able to catch up on the show the next day via services like Amazon Prime and Netflix, who streamed the show weekly in Japan.

Gone are the days where an anime fan would have to record an episode of a late-night anime series because it aired early in the morning. With streaming services on the rise within Japan, that night’s episode of Demon Slayer could be watched the next day on the way to work or school, on the train, or on the toilet.

“I felt that the way people interacted with anime had changed and that we had entered a new phase,” Nakano explained, discussing how Demon Slayer’s rise in popularity was due to the evolving ways of media consumption.

This helped the series when the famous Episode 19 aired, blowing away all expectations of what an anime could do in animation. If Demon Slayer wasn’t already part of the modern anime zeitgeist, that one episode — which trended worldwide on Twitter after airing — propelled the series to the forefront by word-of-mouth. Inside Japan, people couldn’t help but talk about the latest episode of the series, treating it like prime-time event television in the same vein as Game of Thrones would have been in the west.

Demon Slayer’s success has also been well documented since the anime finished airing on September 28, 2019. The manga series has broken all records to become the most-sold series for a year, the Mugen Train sequel film is now the highest-grossing film of all time in Japan, and has given Japan the honor of being the third country to have a film reach US $300 million in a single market during its initial run.

Why Does Demon Slayer Resonate With Japanese Audiences?

How Demon Slayer became popular is one thing, but why did this one series, when many others have the same level of talent behind them, become the cultural phenomenon it is today? In December, Oricon released the results of a survey given to Japanese people on how well they know the series, and if so, why did they like it so much.

An astonishing 97.6 percent of the 3,848 respondents, who ranged from teens to the elderly, said they knew of the series, with 40.5 percent of people saying they knew it well. Of those who knew the series, they described how they liked the world setting and had sympathy for the characters. A male teenager said that he “was fascinated by the story of the main character growing up while struggling with various difficulties,” while a woman in her sixties enjoyed “the storytelling and LiSA's powerful voice.” A woman in her thirties remarked that she “never thought I'd be talking about anime at my age with my 60-something mother.”

All through the responses, Demon Slayer is bridging the divide between generations, with each generation taking something out of the story that Gotouge has crafted.

The top-notch action scenes and relatable characters draw in the younger crowd, while more middle-aged people get a kick out of the family bonds that weave throughout the story, and the aesthetic of the entire series gives older people a sense of nostalgia, also known as “Taisho romance,” but without it being overly melodramatic about the era. Even kids are going to the schoolyard to reproduce the breathing techniques seen in the series. Japanese Prime Minister Yoshihide Suga joined them when he made a cheeky reference to Demon Slayer’s breathing techniques while speaking to the DIET in November.

The accumulation of these points has made Demon Slayer a cultural touchstone, one that could only be born out of Japan. Even if the world wasn’t in the current state it is in, the Shonen Jump series would be just as big in its homeland, if not bigger, with more people going to the theaters and traveling to the areas that influenced the series.

Living in Japan at the moment means living in a world surrounded by Demon Slayer. From billboards promoting the film to masks people wear, you can’t go outside (not that people should be!) without having the series in your eyesight. And with how good the series is, and how many people are enjoying it, Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba deserves its time in the sun.

Demon Slayer masks being sold in Harajuku in December 2020 (photo: Daryl Harding)

Daryl Harding is a Japan Correspondent for Crunchyroll News. He also runs a YouTube channel about Japan stuff called TheDoctorDazza, tweets at @DoctorDazza, and posts photos of his travels on Instagram.

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features.

By: Daryl Harding

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

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renee-writer · 4 years ago

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Highlands and Horses Chapter 25 Sunday Dinner

AO3'

She is a mass of nerves as she rejects one outfit after another. First impressions are important. Ellen Fraser must like her for she loves her son. Finally she settles on a dark green dress that, she knows, brings out her best features, her eyes and legs. It ends just at her knees and shows no cleavage. Perfect.

His eyes just about pop out of his head when he sees her. He is a sight himself, with a suit on and his wild hair tamed and pulled back. “Okay?” she asks when he had stood for a full minute just staring at her.

“Very. You are a masterpiece Claire. A living breathing master portrait come to life.” She blushes.

“You are a flatterer and quite handsome yourself. Shall we go while I still have the nerve.”

“Aye let’s.”

The main house is magnificent. Standing three stories of old brick, it raises against the setting sun and takes her breath. Jamie smiles when he sees her reaction. “She is a sight, isn’t she.”

“That she is.” He comes around and helps her out. Keeping her hand, he leads her towards the front door.

“Uncle Jamie!” Claire sees a flash of tartan and red curls before the little girl has her arms around her waist.

“Maggie!” he hugs her one handed. “How is my favorite niece.”

“Your only niece.” She returns, her blue eyes flashing with humor.

“True enough. Margret Ellen Murphy meet Claire Beauchamp, Miss Claire to you.” Claire kneels to be at her eye level.

“Hello Maggie.”

“Hi Miss Claire.” She holds out her hand. “Are you going to be my auntie?”

“Ahh..”

“Maggie!” A loud laugh from behind them. Turning, Claire sees a tall red haired lady. Ellen she presumes.

“Isn’t she a pistol?” She comes up. “Maggie, go join your brother. We will be in soon.” she scurries off. “I am Ellen Fraser. You must be Claire, the lass my Jamie can’t stop talking about.”

“Yes, I am Claire. It is nice to meet you.” She offers her hand and is enfolded in a hug. Okay then. Jamie grins at her over her shoulder.

“We are huggers.” They hug for a while then Ellen leads her in, her arms over her shoulder. Jamie follows with a chuckle. “You know everyone else but Maggie, who you just meet and wee Ian. Ian, come meet your uncle’s friend.”

The little blond boy steps out. He has the same flashing blue eyes of his sister and uncle. “Ian James Murray, ma’am.” He presents his hand. Charmed, she bends down to greet him.

“Claire Beauchamp, you may call me Miss Claire. It is nice to meet you Ian.”

“She is beautiful.” He whispers in an aside to his uncle that everyone hears. They all laugh. Yes, Claire is comfortable with his family.

“That she is, and smart, kind, giving, sweet, strong, and the best horse whisperer I’ve ever known.”

“Told you she is to be our new auntie.” Maggie says to her brother.

“Margret Ellen, stay out of adult issues!” her mam warns.

Jamie comes up and wraps his arms around her. “Sorry, they are a bit overwhelming.”

“They are wonderful. A true family.”

Over dinner, where the bairn’s entertain their elders with talk of school and their many mates, Claire watches as Brian is so sweet to his wife. Tender looks and touches. Focusing on her even as he listens to his grandchildren. Ian is just as attentive to Jenny. As this are Jamie’s examples, she knows he is in good hands. She turns at one point to find his eyes on her. The love and lust she finds in them has her all tingly. She reaches under the table and finds his hand.

“Okay bairn’s, let’s get to know a bit more about Miss Claire. She is our guest.” Their granddad’s command silences them and they turn their eyes to her.

“Well, I grew up in the city. My dad passed when I was young so my Uncle Lamb stepped in. He and my mum raised me to be all the things your uncle sees in me. The horse I am working with most is Amazing Grace. She has some trust issues but,” a quick glance to Jamie, who is drawing patterns on her hand. “we are working them out. It is funny you know, when I was you guys age, I didn’t even think about working with horses, though I loved them. It took time to find my true passion.” Another quick glance at Jamie, “ but when I did, I never looked back.”

“I wanna be a singer.” Maggie declares.

“I will be a Laird. Will own all kinds of houses, a farm, maybe a store or two.” Wee Ian says.

“My children have big dreams.” Ian looks at them with affection. “but now it is time for night dreams. School in the morning.” There is a fair amount of grumbling but Ian holds firm. So, after they bid all good night, Maggie singing it, they go up the stairs to their rooms.

“I love them, nae doubt but it is good to see the day end.” Jenny settles back into the chair and something about her posture or how her hands lay on her stomach, draws Claire’s attention.

“Jenny are you..?”

She nods. “Aye, and I told my man this will be the last. One reason I am glad to have Annalise there.”

“She is working out well then?” Brian asks as he stands and starts to clear the table.

“Aye. Quite well. She is a fair keyboardist and takes excellent notes. She has incredible organizational skills and is making my office easier to navigate.”

“Wonderful. What you and Jamie are doing there, and Claire and all the others too, is so wonderful. With the horses and the teens.” Ellen says.

After the table is cleared and the dishes placed in the dishwasher, they retire to the great room. The fireplace is inviting and they all gather around it. Jamie entertains his family by telling them about John’s nephew.

“Oh he really is spoiled. The lad is learning valuable lessons. He isn’t allowed to get by with nothing. John is a hard task master but needed one. Young William Ransom is no king at Restoring Trust and he is learning it. He was upset Friday because he saw Fergus and Marsali working with the horses. Thought it better then mucking stalls and laying hay. Oh when John told him he must earn the privilege, he threw such a fit. Threw himself down on the ground and rolled about.”

“Gracious, what did John do?”

“Ignored him mam. When he stopped, John just told him to rack back up the hay he had scattered. He did it too.”

They all laugh. They talk for an hour more before Brian and Ellen and Ian and Jenny, head up to bed. As it is late, Jamie and Claire will be spending the night too. But they sit and enjoy the fire a bit longer first. He kisses the top of her head as she snuggles into him.

“They like you.”

“I like them too.” She says.

“Good.” He leads her to bed a bit later.

#my writing #outlander fandom #highlands and horses #sunday dinner #outlander fanfic #cannon divergence #jamie and claire #modern au

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lizacstuff · 4 years ago

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Bunch of anons about Carina and Roswell NM drama

Under the cut because it’s long and gossipy...

Anonymous said: Whatever nonsense Carina may have been up to with Jeanine and Nathan, both the leads have seemed to keep their private issues to themselves by not telling other cast or friends. That's why it angers me that the person who leaked the information disregarded Jeanine as a person and victim.

I’m of two minds on this. On one hand I totally agree and I hate that Jeanine’s name was drug into this and her involvement was shared by the multiple inside sources, but on the other hand I do not like Carina, I think she was awful to work for, and I think it’s a good thing if it’s know in the industry that she created friction on set and was investigated by HR.

She was so unprofessional, just from what we could see as fans, that she should NOT be put in charge of another show any time soon. So I think for the sake of people she will work with in the future, it’s a good thing it’s out there. She has a whole lot of growing to do before she should ever work in television again.

You make a good point about Jeanine and Nathan keeping their business to themselves. Carina is out there over-sharing constantly, putting every neurosis on full display, and forcing half the cast to be out drinking and entertaining her on a regular basis. While those two, kept quiet and out of the spotlight. In interviews/panels they’ve both been completely professional, doing their jobs while also being charming, funny and eloquent.

It was obvious to those of us watching closely that all was not well between J/N and Carina when the season started shooting. Carina was bitchier when she talked about them and those characters than she had been before, and J/N were nowhere to be seen in her braggy out-partyin’-with-my-cast IG stories and posts.

As you say, it doesn’t look like J/N tried to drag any other cast or crew into whatever the issue was. I’m not sure the same can be said for Carina, that speaks volumes about the character of all involved.

Anonymous said: I saw that abnormallyadam is doing a live social media thing with Jeanine and Vlamis soon. I guess we might get more information then and if Jeanine decides to say anything.

How hilarious would it be if Adam gets the scoop of a lifetime!?

I’m guessing this chat or whatever it is was set up before Jeanine and Vlamis knew the studio was going to swoop in and make their lives a whole lot better by firing Carina. So it will be interesting to see if it still happens on schedule or if it’s postponed for awhile.

If it does go on, I think they will probably cover it really quickly and superficially like Vlamis did when he was schilling his merch the other night and then move on. They won’t deep dive into it, that’s for sure.

Anonymous said: Carina has been tweeting incessantly today! Like tweeting about other meaningless things won't make people forget lol. Also about that anon message you received about unfollowing nathan - wowwww she used to be up his butt.

Yes, remember the days when Carina used him as her social media crutch (every post she makes like that with a hot actor or country singer is basically her rampant insecurities saying: “hey look at the hot guy(s) who hang out with me and take pictures with me, it means I have value ya’ll!”) before she moved onto Trevino and then Vlamis. So sad.

They were clearly friends after The Originals and she invited him to audition. I’m glad she did, he’s great in the role. Although it sounds like he was lucky that the President of the CW saw him and told her he was a leading man, since she didn’t see him as a lead. Sometime a friend’s preconceived notions might actually hold a person back...

Who knows what happened, but just knowing human nature and Carina’s energy, I’ve always wondered if she thought she was going to have her friend on set and he was gonna be her social crutch, her go-to to entertain her and party with her, but right off the bat he and Jeanine got together so during the first season filming he wasn’t so much interested in the single, going-out partying lifestyle that she’s clearly addicted to and that rankled her a bit. Perhaps she lost her party buddy to her leading lady, and the loss of that attention “displeased” her. (to quote Kamran who said Carina told the writers to punish actors who displeased her by reducing their screen time. Interesting thought, no?)

Anonymous said: Well the interesting thing is some of the other people she follows don't post much either and she continues to follow them. Interesting interesting.

I know. She didn’t unfollow him because of that. That was definitely a show of cutting ties with him. It was probably in a fit of rage because she can’t unfollow Jeanine (because that would look terrible). Also she has been so humiliated between being unceremoniously fired and losing her development deal with WB, the Hollywood Reporter article making her look terrible, and that writer spilling tea, that my guess is she’s hoping to shift focus to someone else and she knows unfollowing him will make us all wonder why.

Anonymous said: Well shoot, maybe it was Nathan and not Jeanine who went to hr? And Carina found out? Or Nathan took the fall? Sorry I'm just going down a rabbit hole of conspiracy.

In my opinion there’s no reason to think those sources got it wrong. I would guess that Jeanine was involved, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t also involve Nathan. Those two are a self-professed team, so no reason to think they wouldn't be in this instance as well.

Anonymous said: Does this mean she'll unfollow Jeanine too??

I’m sure she wants to, but she can’t unless she wants to confirm that, yes, there was friction on the set and, yes, there was a specific problem with her leading lady.

Carina went out of her way to try and combat the “rumors” about her and Jeanine not getting along, addressing the situation in her goodbye post-- drawing more attention to it in the process-- so unfollowing her now would just make her look foolish and like everything she said was a lie and everything from the inside sources is true.

Anonymous said: Carina will definitely do something stupid. She can't help herself. But even though there's no reason to follow Nathan, he's been inactive on Twitter for over a year and for her to unfriend now during this drama and mess...how is that a coincidence?

As I said above, I know it’s not a coincidence. She’s dumb because by doing that she pretty much confirmed that there was friction on the set. If there wasn’t, she wouldn’t be unfollowing the person in the main cast who she was closest too prior to the show.

Part of me wonders if, as an old friend, she asked him for something (to defend her or a show of support) and he wouldn't do it. Perhaps she’s most hurt by him not supporting her since they were friends before and she did give him a lead role on a network show (and also accidentally introduced him to his girlfriend.) Maybe she thought he owed her and he didn't step up to defend her or even just give a tacit show of support by responding to her social media posts on leaving??

I’m guessing if he had come out of social media hibernation to give her one of those paltry “Thanks for everything” responses to her IG post like the other actors she wouldn't have unfollowed him.

Anonymous said: Someone said the writer deleted all his tweets about Carina.

Not surprising, it was a crazy spree he was on, who wants to bet that he got contacted by a lawyer late Friday night?

I’m sure Carina was doing everything in her power to threatened him and to get him to stop.

Anonymous said: I remember the writer also referring to Nathan as Carina's "friend." Is it in quotations because they are not actually friends? Frenemy? Carina was recently saying nice things about Nathan so based on her perspective, she thinks they were still on good terms?

Well they were apparently friends before he was cast, what happened after that is hard to say. They seemed fine during the promotion of season 1, but as soon as season 2 started filming, Carina’s tone when talking about him and Max got ugly and Nathan and Jeanine were staying far away from her socially. I mean Jeanine hosted a ladies Friendsgiving at their house, where 40 women from the cast and crew came over for a Thanksgiving feast, but the female showrunner wasn’t there. Hmmmm...

However, this spring things seemed to have thawed a bit. Jeanine and Carina would occasionally like each other’s IG post (someone pointed out to me that had stopped during summer of 2019 and they didn’t engage with each other’s posts much if at all during S2 filming) Jeanine and Carina did that IG live and Carina was talking positively about Nathan and Max and seemed to be setting him up for a big season 3 with the dual roles and talking excitedly about that, so honestly, to me, it seemed like they had made their peace. Perhaps Carina getting fired (and the straw that broke the camel’s back on that was clearly her idiotic tirade against the UK distributor) brought back up all the issues??? Or maybe Carina blamed them because of the prior issues? Or maybe they didn’t support her with the studio when she was trying to salvage her job? All I know is that Carina’s public behavior on social media is enough grounds to fire her, so she has no business blaming anyone but herself.

Anonymous said: Someone said to the writer that jeanine, amber and nathan are staying silent on the matter and kamran replied that "Silence speaks louder than words." just above that they also were wondering who Carina harassed and bullied into silence? was it nathan?

Who knows... ask the writer.

Anonymous said: Carina going from Zapit straight to writing for TVD is peak white privilege. After that THR article you could tell she believed a little too much how far that privilege would get her. Good riddance. Good luck getting another job for being such a big liability. I don't see any corporation hiring her again.

I think the only way she’s getting another job in TV anytime soon is if Julie gives it to her. She’s talented, once she grows up maybe she’ll be capable of running a show, but it was clear from the peanut gallery she should never have been given that amount of responsibility that she had on RNM.

#anti carina #carina fired #fandom wank #asklizac #anonymous

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 5 years ago

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Psycho Analysis: The Sanderson Sisters

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

Ah, Hocus Pocus, everyone’s favorite campy Halloween cult classic. Objectively speaking, the movie is probably no better than a made-for-TV cheesy 90s Disney movie – and funnily enough, this film’s director would go on to make plenty more of those, seeing as he would do the High School Musical movies and The Descendants – as it has all the hokey writing, late 80s/early 90s cliches you’d expect, and some truly boring main characters.

But, thankfully, it has three of the most charismatic women you could imagine camping it up and firmly cementing their status as Halloween icons for all time: The Sanderson sisters, Winifred, Sarah, and Mary. These three are the reason this movie is held so near and dear to people’s hearts, and frankly, without them this movie would just plain suck. With them, it still sucks, but in a fun way, elevating it beyond “so bad it’s good” and into the realm of endearing camp alongside such masterpieces as Venom.

But enough of all this; just like when you’re watching the movie, you’re here for the girls, so let’s talk about them.

Actor: The leader of the bunch is Winifred, and she is played by Bette Midler. Bette Midler has called this her favorite role ever, and seeing how she acts in this, it really shows. A running theme with these three is that they just absolutely ham it up, and Bette Midler goes above and beyond with Winifred – she’s not just a ham, she’s the whole damn hog. In fact, in a lot of ways, she hogs the spotlight, what with her hamminess being so magnetic and the fact that she is clearly the brains of the operation. But that’s not to say the others are bad.

Sarah Jessica Parker plays… Sarah. Funny how that worked out. She is the hot and dumb one, and boy oh boy does she play that role to perfection, though of course she does manage to be creepy and sinister when the scene calls for it – that song of hers has become iconic for a reason.

Finally we come to Mary, played by none other than Peggy Hill herself, Kathy Najimy. Najimy does a great job, she plays her role well, but out of the three I feel like she has the most trouble standing out. Which isn’t to say she’s bad, far from it – she doesn’t have the bombastic personality of Winifred nor the complete ditziness of Sarah.

Here’s the thing, though: if any of these three weren’t here, or weren’t portrayed by these specific actresses, they’d fall apart, the movie would fall apart, game over man, game over! The film only works because these three have such great chemistry, such great interactions, and such great weirdness to them that if even one of them were gone or they just weren’t in synch, things would be a lot less fun.

Motivation/Goals: Like most evil witches in fiction, these three want children, specifically so that they can drain their vitality with a magic potion so that they can be young and powerful forever. This gets them hanged 300 years before the main story starts, and when they come back, they reuse this goal with a bit more urgency: they now need to drain the vitality from children before the sun rises and turns them to dust, as their resurrection is set to only last a single night otherwise. Frankly, the fact that their goal is killing and sucking the life out of children is the only thing that’s keeping the audience from rooting for them, because the actual protagonists of this film are so unremarkable and cliché that it’s pretty hard to want to see them stop the funny and charismatic witches,

Personality: Winifred is clearly the one who got all the brains, which makes sense as she is the leader. She’s a lot quicker on the uptake and realizes things more quickly than her ditzier sisters, as well as a lot more proactive and pragmatic in general. She does the spellcasting, she brews the potions, she just inhabits the role of leader naturally. It helps that of the three she has the most outwardly intimidating presence.

Mary is the middle child, and her personality is somewhere between the two sisters: she’s ditzy, but not to Sarah’s level, and she’s got some common sense and wits, but definitely not on Winifred’s level. This is kind of why I said she has a hard time sticking out personality-wise before, as she’s the epitome of the awkward middle child. However, she does excel at her role as a predatory child tracker, able to sniff out their victims with ease. It’s also implied, but not outright stated, that she’s a much bigger eater than her sisters; she is noticeably chunkier than the others, after all. And considering their diet… it’s definitely not a good idea to undersell that Mary is definitely a wicked witch.

Then we come to Sarah, who is an absolute ditz and the epitome of a dumb blonde… and yet, she is also one of the most dangerous, as she has a sort of siren-like power to draw children to her with her singing. In fact, while she does come off as a ditzy goofball for the most part, her interactions with children paint a rather… uncomfortable picture, one that reveals her true nature.

I think it’s worth noting that despite how ditzy both Mary and Sarah are, both of them also have the common sense to point out to Winifred that, when Sarah has called numerous children to their house, they really don’t need to bother with the protagonists anymore. In this moment, Winifred decides to reject common sense and go after them because one of the heroes called her ugly. It sort of highlights just how petty and irrational Winifred can be, and how despite her disdain for her sisters, she’s really not so different from them in the end. It’s also worth noting that Mary and Sarah, while clearly evil due to their association with Winifred, are actually pretty nice and mostly harmless otherwise, to the point where you could make a case that without Winifred around, they’d probably not be villains at all.

But if that were the case, we wouldn’t have a movie, and then we wouldn’t be here, huh?

Final Fate: Of course these three fail to suck out any vitality by sunrise, with Winifred’s stupid little vendetta damning her and her sisters. The rays of the sun turn Winifred to a statue and cause Sarah and Mary to explode, with Mary even getting a moment to wave goodbye in resigned sadness as she bursts into a dust cloud. After her sisters are gone, Winifred’s statue explodes spectacularly.

Best Scene: I don’t think there’s really anything that comes close to the sister’s spellbinding performance of “I Put a Spell On You,” at least in regards to all three of them together. I mean, if you get a singer like Bette Midler to star as a villain in your movie, why would you not have her sing? Only a complete hack who doesn’t know how to properly utilize actors would waste a singer in a role where they don’t sing.

The thing is, these three are together all the time, so there’s not much room for individual moments for them to shine otherwise… or there wouldn’t be, if they didn’t showcase Sarah’s absolutely terrifying power, leading her number “Come Little Children” to being her standout moment, and the moment that really drives home the incredibly uncomfortable undertones she exudes.

Best Quote: I think Winifred gets the best quote in the whole movie, which occurs when her zombified ex Billy Butcherson (played by Doug Jones, who you may remember for his critically acclaimed role as Mac Tonight in the McDonald’s ads). Billy tells her to go to hell, and she retorts with: “Oh! I've been there, thank you. I found it quite lovely.”

Sarah, of course, has her villain song: “Come little children, I'll take thee away / Into a land of enchantment / Come little children, the times come to play / Here in my garden of magic.”

And, unfortunately, in this regard I think Mary gets the shaft. Despite her definitely being funny and entertaining, she just doesn’t have the same level of standout quotes as her sisters.

Final Thoughts & Score: So as I was writing this, I was thinking of what their score could possibly be. I thought I’d probably have to lower their score, because aside from them, this movie is just corny early 90s cheese… but then I thought, what’s wrong with that? And why should these three suffer a lower score due to the rest of the movie’s failings? That isn’t their fault. Hell, these three are the reason to watch the movie. If anything, the movie’s failings are drowned out by just how charismatic and enjoyable they are to watch.

Much like their fellow child-hating hag the Grand High Witch, the Sanderson sisters are blessed with fun, funny, charismatic actors who aren’t afraid to ham things up and know just what kind of move they’re in and absolutely revel in it. They saw they were playing three stereotypical fairy tale witches and decided to have a blast with it, and in doing so they managed to transform an otherwise corny Disney film into the Halloween legend that this film is. I wouldn’t say these three are particularly deep or complex, but they have a very fun dynamic and add a lot of spice to an otherwise bland plot. Between them and Doug Jones, they give you a lot of reasons to come back and watch this film over and over.

Obviously, these three are getting a 9/10, only held back from a perfect score because yes, sometimes the camp can be a bit much, even for me. But I’m just not heterosexual enough to give these three ladies anything lower. I still have to unfortunately say Mary is the weak link here, but it’s only comparatively speaking, and I’d probably bump these three down to a 7 if she wasn’t here. I really can’t stress enough that there dynamic is so utterly important that even one of them not being there would spoil things. They just don’t make evil trios like this anymore.

#Psycho Analysis #The Sanderson Sisters #Winifred Sanderson #Bette Midler #Mary Sanderson #Kathy Najimy #Sarah Sanderson #Sarah Jessica Parker #Hocus Pocus #Disney

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themxlodyofmiidnight · 5 years ago

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Aizalea’s bio { for mobile }

FC: Ksenia Solo.

Fandom? - Fandomless; can be put nearly anywhere.

༻ ♫♪ ༺

BASIC INFO.

Full name: Aizalea Elizabeth Nevermoore.

Pronunciation: (EYE-ZAIL-YAH)

Nickname(s):Ai-Ai, Ai, Aizzy, Lizzy or Izzy, She-wolf, Crazy bat, Ruby Red.

Stage name: “Izzy Moon.”

Race: Supernatural.

Specific species: Hybrid.

Heritage: Vampire and Werewolf.

Age: 242 years old. { She appears to be around 19 }

Relationship status: Single.

Preference? - Males. { Though she prefers those who behave like they have sense, and don’t assume she is going to sleep with them; or assume that they know everything about her. }

Job: Lead singer in her band, ‘BloodMoon.’

Likes: Hanging out with her friends, snacking on plasma fruits, hamburgers, singing at the top of her lungs, being crazy when no one else is around to know, drawing on herself with eyeliner, black cats, and her fans.

Dislikes: People assuming they know everything there is to know about either side of her biology, vampire or werewolf stereotypes, inaccurate portrayal of vampires and werewolves in pop culture (movies, books, songs, etc.), being in the sun too long and feeling sick because of it, days when she can’t get her voice to cooperate, people who mistreat others or who find it fun to abuse animals, the insulting implication that vampires sparkle in the sunlight, and garlic - it upsets her stomach.

༻ ♫♪ ༺

OTHER FORMS

WOLF

As a wolf, Aizalea is very strong. She is prone to attacking people if she sees them hurting someone else, and is fiercely loyal to those she befriends. Her hearing is amplified more than usual, as well as her sense of smell. She has a talent for sniffing out peoples’ intentions, and she isn’t very nice if she knows that what they’re up to isn’t any good.

Given that she is not like normal wolves in this form, she is able to jump much higher and longer distances than a born wolf is. Her jaw strength is harder, and her teeth are easily sharper. Her howl is louder, bigger in size than a female wolf usually is, and her bark carries a lot more bite. Aizalea can easily lead a pack if she needs to, but she doesn’t go looking for the position of a leader.

Around those she is close to, this form renders her as much more of a big puppy than anything else. Unless a guard dog is needed, of course.

She can be trusted to care for small children and other pets in a home, and likes to cuddle with her friends. Aizalea has been known to switch to this form when her friends are unhappy, so she can comfort them. Often choosing this form if she has to babysit, she enjoys giving ‘wolfie-back rides’ to little kids.

In appearance, she is a black wolf; with the occasional shine of red in her fur. Her eyes are bright, and vary in color depending upon her mood. Her fur is very soft, and is also very sensitive to touch. If danger is sensed, it often bristles up and stands on end.

Notes

- Calling her a ‘mutt’ will get your arm bitten.

- She loves to eat meat of most any kind, but her favorite things are hamburgers.

- She can communicate with most other canines, and the occasional feline, if needed.

- The ability to speak is held, though she will choose not to around people whom she does not know well.

- Certain howls or barks mean different things; quite a few sounds from her are those of warning, though she has an assortment of affection and happiness as well.

VAMPIRE BAT

In this form, Aizalea has all the advanced senses of a normal bat. She has the same disadvantages as a normal bat does, albeit they are not as troublesome to her; in the way that they are not quite as bad as would be those of a normal, everyday bat.

She is prone to eating plasma fruits when she needs to feed, if there are no other sources around. While she will threaten to if she feels the need, Aizalea will not actually feed off of any other animals or humans. She prefers to drink from blood pouches, and can often be seen perched up near the ceiling with a little bag of it, when travelling around with her friends.

Notes

- She is able to communicate with other bats.

- She can speak, but prefers not to if she is around people she doesn’t know.

- Plasma fruits are a good way to get on her good side.

- Aizalea has only attacked someone once before, and it was because it was someone who she couldn’t stand.

- Much like in her wolf form, she is bigger than most normal female bats (depending upon species, of course) and has very soft, sensitive black fur, with the occasional red shine to it.

In-Between

This form can take shape as either a wolf with bat wings, or a bat with a very fluffy tail. Most often, it is the former, not the latter.

Notes

- She can communicate either via howls or echolocation like a bat.

- Fruit and meat are both good ways to get her to like you.

- Her fur, like in her two main forms, is still black but with a red shine in the light.

- Aizalea’s hearing is far more sensitive in this form, and so it is easier for her ears to get hurt.

- If she speaks, it is mostly only with or around those whom she knows well.

༻ ♫♪ ༺

Backstory.

Early on.

Aizalea and Aelazia were born to their mother, Lady Eboneth Thorngrave; a woman of high respect and class, who had more than one secret lover after her husband’s disappearance. Believing him to be dead or to no longer love her, Eboneth did her best to move on.

While the majority of her loves were within her own species, she ( as many of her ancestors had before her ) strayed more than once, crossing the lines between other species and her own. Forbidden unions, as with many, do not often end well.

Aizalea’s father, a werewolf who Eboneth had fallen in love with, turned up missing as her first husband had. Leaving her pregnant and in need of solace, a night with a friend who offered her comfort ended with her pregnancy becoming that of not only one child, but two. Two girls, with different fathers.

As the genes of most ‘fantasy’ or ‘myth’ races are widely misunderstood and quite strange to humans, explaining how it is that Eboneth birthed two girls who looked the same - but had different genes - is no easy task. Chalking it up to her own family’s history of mixed genes, Eboneth has done her best to take care of her children ( of which, she has many ) to the best of her ability. Since the loss of not one love, but two, to mysterious circumstances - Eboneth has become quite tight-lipped about her romantic encounters. She has shielded herself from the idea of finding someone and remarrying, but has had more than a few children since the twins.

“Twins run in her family,” is her excuse often given, if ever asked about Aizalea or her sister Aelazia. Her reasoning as to why she named them as she did, varies from time to time. Often, she asks the person in return, if they do not think her daughters’ names are beautiful - given her powerful and intimidating presence, this usually ends the discussion if she doesn’t feel like going into it.

The truth being in part that Eboneth was under much duress during her pregnancy, she could not think very clearly when trying to come up with names for her children. She is embarrassed by this, but does think their names are pretty - as she did come up with them and their spellings on her own. ( Aside from some help from her sister. )

Growing up.

As the two girls grew up, they learned what it meant to be different. While their siblings loved them and did not care that they weren’t of ‘pure’ blood, there were those who posed a danger to them both. In the world of Supernaturals, hybridizations of certain beings is strictly prohibited. Such hybridizations as what Aizalea - called ‘Izzy’ by her family, and later, her friends - is, is one of the ones most severely sought out and destroyed. So much so, that she is one of very few that remains alive - even after the turning of the centuries.

Aelazia - called ‘Ally’ by her family - is one of the ones most often not spoken about. It is a hybridization of species so rarely occurring, that most Supernaturals do not address it. Those who do, find it an uneasy topic. Some, however, simply enjoy the hunt and the thrill gained by killing anything that isn’t seen as pure - thus putting her in danger as well.

Over time, Izzy showed an aptitude for singing. She spent a lot of her time doing so, when not learning from her mother or her aunt. Izzy loved to sit and make up songs out of nowhere, off the top of her head; Ally, however, liked to dance. She could sing too - but didn’t think she was very good at it, so she and Izzy played off one another - helping one another get better at either skill.

Both smarter than one would have expected, they eventually developed their own separate personalities from the other: Ally was not so apt to stand up for herself; Izzy, on the other hand, was. Soft and caring, and fierce and loyal. Izzy and Ally were inseparable for the longest time. If they weren’t learning from their mother or their aunt, they were having fun running around the mansion with their siblings.

They kept each other entertained for as long as any of their ( rather huge ) immediate family could remember.

However, a free spirit like Izzy’s couldn’t be tamed for forever.

Young adults.

After pleading with her mother to let her go, Izzy moved out of her family’s old mansion and headed to the city. From there, she traveled around trying to get noticed.

This caused both good, and bad, results.

Not having thought about the possible ill consequences of being open about who she was, Izzy ended up meeting her two best friends ( and later, bandmates ) after they came in and helped her get away from rude purebloods. Since then, Izzy has stuck with them - and learned, over time, who she could trust and who she couldn’t.

Ally has stuck at home for the most part; she is far more timid and less sure of herself than her sister is, and has spent a lot of time at home learning new skills. She has given up what she used to do with Izzy when they were growing up, and doesn’t mention it often. There is a lot of times when she wishes that she had been able to leave with her sister and regrets that she didn’t.

What she wants most, is to unite with her twin again. But she’s afraid… What will happen if she leaves?

This is what she asked herself many, many times - before she too, finally left home in search of her sister.

#Aizalea Nevermoore bio #{ for mobile }

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mashitandsmashit · 6 years ago

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America’s Got Talent: Season 14 - Auditions 1

Hey.

How’s it going?

So there’s this show called “America’s Got Talent”, have you heard of it?

It’s a reality talent competition...

And...

...yeah...

I got into this show ten years ago! (And yes, I’m feelin’ hella old now!) Sure, I have my issues with this show and its manipulative nature, but even with all of these other big reality game shows, this is the one that I’ve been sticking with for all these years! And the main thing drawing me in is just the variety of talents that compete! Sure, there have been other shows lately trying to copy what it’s been doing...But has anyone been hearing from them lately?

I don’t know...I’m not paying attention...I think AGT is enough for me! (Hey, that rhymes!)

All that said, I have been growing cynical about it in recent years, and something about all the promotional stuff for this season didn’t help matters, as almost everything I saw in it looked like something I’ve seen before...

Hell, they even replaced their previous black female and blonde female judges with another black female and blonde female...So far, neither of them have shown anything that helps them stand out as judges, but since it’s only their first episode, I’ll give them time to help me get to know them (because these are the first two judges in the history of AGT I know nothing about beforehand!)

That being said, the new host Terry Crews is growing on me, so that’s a plus!

But I don’t watch this show for the cast of celebrities that have little else to do in their careers...I come here for the contestants! And while almost every act making up the first audition tonight clearly seem to be some spiritual successor to other acts we’ve seen in recent seasons (primarily the previous one), I gotta admit that almost all of them legitimately impressed me!

So let’s rank them!

9: Jackie Fabulous. I said ALMOST all of them...I found this lady to be more...cute than laugh-out-loud funny...She was by no means bad, but so far she’s looking to be the black (somewhat younger) version of Vicki Barbolak, who I ALSO liked more for her personality than her jokes...But I’m willing to give her a chance...She’ll probably make some decent progress regardless...

8: The Human Fuse. On a weaker night than tonight, I would gladly rank this guy higher, because launching yourself a great distance in the air while ON FIRE is definitely worthy of some props...But I think the main reason why these acts never get far in this game (aside from the whole going outside thing) is because instead of a few minutes of a performance with various highlights, it’s just a moment of suspense, and then they do the thing...It all just lasts a few seconds, and it’s not that much more dangerous than other acts that do multiple stunts while onstage...I wish this guy the best, but there are other more deserving acts looking to do something more productive with their million than...retire...That’s a very 1% thing to do!

7: Greg Morton. When I heard his smooth, buttery voice, I thought to myself, “He BETTER not disappoint!” And I must say, for a guy just standing there doing voices, he sure can put on a show! Far more entertaining than the “Star Wars” movies that aren’t the original trilogy!

6: Sophie Pecora. As usual, any singer that writes their own songs is okay in my book! Some personal lyrics, nice singing voice and...interesting rap verse, which seems to reflect the anxiety being expressed, make this a pretty effective ballad on par with the likes of Grace VanderWaal and Mandy Harvey...And she definitely seems to have graduated from the Chase Goehring school of acoustic guitar rapping!

5: Patrizio Ratto. Okay, there’s misleading us, and then there’s straight-up false advertising! I was wondering if this guy might pull a Tokio Myers or something, but I guess I’ll settle for some robotic body-popping...Nothing super-unique about his moves so far, but he’s talented enough that I look forward to seeing what else he can do!

4: Gingzilla. So let’s see, a guy from Australia taking on this flamboyant singing diva persona? Where have I seen this before, dahlings...? Also, my reaction to this character was quite similar to my reaction to Hans: Enjoying the personality, hoping the talent and entertainment live up to said personality, and then getting exactly what I wanted and then some! While so far I would say that Hans was slightly superior in the entertainment department, this chick is definitely a superior singer, and I look forward to seeing what she brings in later rounds!

3: Kodi Lee. I think it was inevitable that I was going to share a link to this SNL sketch that aired last fall sooner or later, and this seems about as good a time as any: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uysHtpAijpY...This felt just like what that sketch was joking about! But I do really like this guy, and while nothing’s certain yet, he does seem very much like a potential winner for this season!

2: Eric Chien. I think we all knew that there was going to be a magician this season piggybacking off of Shin Lim’s double-victory over the last year, and I guess if anyone can follow in his footsteps, it’s another attractive mid-20s Asian guy! (It also helps that he’s fresh off of a victory on Asia’s Got Talent!) He has a VERY TALL ORDER on his plate, and I definitely can’t say I’m rooting for him to win since he’s too similar to last year’s winner...But for now, it was an overall solid trick, and I think he deserves a chance...Who knows? Maybe he’ll make it all the way to the finals as well! But again, let’s maybe give something different a shot at the win this year...?

1: V. Unbeatable. Weird nipple-showing outfits aside, this group does show a lot of promise, even though Zurcaroh is a tough act for ANY dance group to follow! Like the previous two entries, this act could very well make it all the way to the finals, so long as they know how to up the ante! (And as yet another recent champion of a reality competition, I have no doubt that they can!)

So to sum it all up, this was like the Bruno Mars of AGT acts: I’ve generally seen it all before, but it was still just different and entertaining enough that I had a good time nonetheless! Not a bad start to the season, but I guess now would be a good time to exercise caution, because the promos still promise more soulful girl balladeers, at least one Light Balance successor, and other familiar AGT staples...And unless they can bring something fresh and new, I...do...not...care!

See you next week!

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idolizerp · 6 years ago

Photo

LOADING INFORMATION ON HEAVEN’S MAIN DANCE KIM MINHEE…

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: Rina CURRENT AGE: 27 DEBUT AGE: 20 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 15 COMPANY: 99 ETC: This member is often in the news for her creativity, artwork, and vlog content

IDOL IMAGE

rina is no princess. she’s not what the public would consider a perfect example of what its supposed to be a proper woman or an idol, in this case. she’s not overly sweet nor she’s surrounded by flowers and politeness. she’s as flawed as any other human being but that exactly what ends up selling her in the end.

they tried to make her sweet and sexy and nice at the beginning. tried playing her in a way that could make the public look up to her. she’s a pretty girl, her small facial features and easy smile are great and beautiful and they could actually make it work, but one year passes and then two and then they realize that this isn’t working and that perhaps asking her to be the perfect girl wasn’t the best way to address this. she was an idol yes, and she’s a woman, so there’s more pressure there, correct, but not giving the public something to make her relatable wither her image somehow. it doesn’t work for her.

they change strategies then. instead of playing her up as someone flawless, 99 allows her to act a little more freely, a little like herself. it was a good thing, in the eyes of the company, that she had to deal with her surgery right at that time because it helped to hype up the image they wanted for her. she started with small things; more relatable stuff that could make people peak their interested in her. she talked about her younger brother and the bickering they used to have, and about busan and the school she went to when she was little, of the classes she had while she was a trainee and the drawings and doodles she has in a notebook.

easily but steadily she created this persona. not quite the girl next door kind of person, but near enough, not exactly the big sister image but she does look after people publicly to give her the right to that title too. sexy and fond and just generally nice could work well enough. but also because of her little slip in their earlier years when she stagnated, there were rumors surrounding her lack of want to still be an idol and although untrue, she still tried to compensate for that fact. she didn’t want to look lazy or unprofessional, so they had hard-working to add to her list.

she became known for being friendly. not only with idols or their staff, but fans too. she created a heavily crafted relationship with the people who followed them, either for the sake of maintaining them interested or simply because she enjoyed talking to some of them. after a few of years in the business, being pleasant and charismatic paid off and that close relationship she built became nicely seen by the public. the fact that she started to build a community on youtube also helps her to show that off, she tries new things and does stuff that usually, for tv shows wouldn’t be interesting but she gathers tips and laughs off her mistakes.

she became the usually nice idol with good reputation, but she knows better. she knows it can easily be tarnished if she doesn’t take care of her image, that there are people waiting for her to fail and to fall.

IDOL HISTORY

busan was nice and neat, her life wasn’t complicated, it wasn’t chaotic. they lived their lives as they were supposed to. her mother and father were both partners in their law office, they had two beautiful children who did well at school and never gave them much of a headache. they weren’t interested in gossip or trends as long as their reputation as reliable remained untouched. they kept the same pattern for years. no scandals to stain the family’s name, no unexpected situations to throw them off the tracks. it was all peaceful. too easy. too boring.

as kids, they were angels. there wasn’t much they could do besides playing and studying and following their parents like ducklings. minhee wasn’t one to mind the quiet and stillness of everything. she was older, she learnt to be more contained, to look after her brother, to look after their apartment if her parents were away. her brother was another story. the youngest of the house, the first son, the messiest and the loudest, the one who made their mother laugh and who was taken to go fishing with their father.

as they grew up and their interests started diverging from their shared games and mutual bickering, the house wasn’t so peaceful anymore. two preteens growing up under the same roof, they were just waiting for the hurricane to come. they fought way too much, said words they shouldn’t too often, there was always a disagreement. she always loved music classes, her parents could afford that monthly expense and minhee took them with the utmost pleasure, her brother in the other hand didn’t show any interest for anything she did, almost stubbornly so, just to be contrary of her. even at school they pretended not to be related, which was stupid because everyone knew the kim siblings.

she was fifteen when she told her parents she wanted to become a singer and they were against the idea as strongly as they could. she was too young to follow something so foolish, that she shouldn’t think that because she had a couple of dancing and singing classes that she was good enough to become a professional and lastly, if she did become an idol, who’d take the family name seriously. despite the promises that she’d hit big no matter what and that she wouldn’t bring shame to them, they were unbendable. at least, until their favorite spoke up, telling them he’d do the same and take care of minhee while they were at it.

she was boiling with fury still when she auditioned, first to msg and then 99 entertainment. both are great names, both have their respective reputations and she’s excited and anxious, still angry, but she forgets that for a second when she performs. she never goes past the first stages for msg but 99 keeps her on their grip. she keeps performing and keeps giving her best in what she believed to be good, until she’s finally accepted. the young girl who got in because she was a decent and hard-working dancer and not simply because of her looks and charm. in contrast to her, there was her prodigy brother, with his perfect styled hair and killer smile that put him in without breaking a sweat.

that became her fuel. become better and work harder to surpass him even though she felt she was the only one competing. she’s so young and so naïve. she wants to impress others, but she also wants to exceed herself, push herself to her own limits, do what she’s told. do singing classes, go on diets and present dance performances, she does it all, she wants to be perfect and wants to be the best but she’s not competing against others, she’s competing against a shadow.

four years pass and all she worked for starts to pay off.

it’s not fair to say she’s fulfilled. even now, she’s not certain if the nights she spent sleepless were worth it, if the meals she skipped gave her any positive result. even when she had a serious injury on her knee and had to go under surgery, she felt she was lacking yet the incident happened because she was overworking herself to, literally, the breaking point. she mourned her incapability of performing fully, and even then, against the doctor’s orders, she went back on stage, too scared of what could come if she remained behind.

she’s more scared than she lets out. she was never the most popular girl in heaven, she came to terms with that a long while ago but accepting that didn’t mean she could ignore everything so easily. thoughts that she wasn’t enough. she did think that. of not being good enough, debuting for the simple reason of being available. in the back of her mind, she reasoned with herself, saying it was a ridiculous statement, that 99 wouldn’t be a fool to do as such and if she managed to debut, it was on her own merit, it meant she was worth of it.

she was stagnant. for a little while she did the bare minimum to improve herself and it showed when she went back on the stage. she was the same as the previous comeback, and then again and again until it was all but an endless cycle. it wasn’t until 2015 that she started working at full force again. her brother was improving, heaven was improving, and she wasn’t following, she was pulling them back and she didn’t want that.

working too hard has good and bad results and that saying was proven right when ‘um oh ah yeah’ preparations started. she paid no mind to the discomfort at first, but it wasn’t long after that problems started showing and there was nothing else, they could do besides resorting to surgery. it happened just after they finished the shootings for the mv and a couple of weeks before they started promoting, but recovery is not something that happens in a blink of eye; it didn’t mean she didn’t force herself (literally) back to her feet. despite orders from the doctor to not work and just take her time at resting, minhee still showed up on the stage, sat on a chair with a leg immobilized, but she still sang. it took her longer to recover, that was certain, but she still felt slightly good that her efforts were noticed. people praised her for her commitment and that was a needed boost to her work plans even though, in the long term, the fact she worked while she was supposed to rest didn’t bring any new lights or high praises, she was doing her job and things went back to normal after a while.

in 2017, minhee lived a turn of popularity though. she started her own youtube channel in january that year, but she had no big expectations. she noticed as the platform became fairly popular and as it was an easier way to communicate with fans, both internationally and in south korea. their fanbase, despite small, was loyal, and keeping them with content was needed but ended up being quite pleasant for her as well. there she could do everything and anything. from silly things like decorating cakes to things evolving her work as an idol. news started to pay attention to that. she wasn’t a hundred percent sure of the reason, mayhap because they were impressed, she could do more than just dancing and singing, or because the way her accent slipped sometimes was simply amusing or she was just a charming idol in the end. her easiness to speak to a camera and be charismatic while doing so was noticed by variety programs that started taking interest in her. the important part is that it worked, so she kept doing it.

even now things are not as bad as it used to be for her but still, there are issues to bother her during the night. in all those seven years since heaven debuted, she’s still of where her career will take her, if she’ll have a spot if they ever came to an end or if they’ll remain relevant. most importantly, the question is if she’s finally comfortable enough to admit that her little rivalry with her brother despite helping her craft her own start of career, was childish.

#id.bio #id.heaven #id.99 #id.yoon bora

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ghoulboyboos · 6 years ago

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Inspired by doppelgangers i saw on my cruise. Ryan is a performer in the musical shows and shane is one of the photographers on board

Oh boy, nonnie! I have never been on a cruise ship in my life, all that I have is Google and my imagination. I hope I can get the scenery across

Thestage of the Calliope isbigger than any cruise ship’s Ryan has ever been on. He and thetroupe get a little lost in blocking and re-blocking the show for thenew venue. The director has already slipped out for his seventhcigarette break and it’s getting a little concerning. Ryan looks athis co-star who just shrugs. She is twisting in the cute blue dressthat is part of her costumes and Ryan snorts and pulls her into aspin. Somewhere behind the stage, “The nicest kids in town” isplaying and everyone else seems pretty chill with the new place.

Theyeventually figure all of it out. Hairsprayis still well liked, because it’s bright and happy and positive.Ryan isn’t sure if the rich and mighty are the crowd who gets mostexcited about the show, but they definitely seem to like it. Whenhe’s not on stage, he glimpses out through the curtains and frombehind the backstage door. Most of the guests are dressed in allkinds of expensive outfits, but they keep it pretty tasteful. Ryanswipes the lock that is half-plastered to his forehead to give himthat I’m trying to keep my hair in linelook Link Larkin is rocking outof his eyes and looks around. The waiters and waitresses are prettybusy and Ryan knows alcohol is flowing on these cruises like mad. Hehears a click and looks to his left.

Aman is standing nearby. He’s dressed in dark chinos and a blackHenley with a jean jacket over it. Apart from that, he has severalbags and pieces of equipment strapped to him, all of which seems tobelong to the camera he is holding in his hands. They’re nicehands, Ryan notices. Long fingered and lean. The man isn’t exactlywhat he would consider conventionally attractive, but in a weird way,he’s sort of cute. His face is long, his nose is big and his eyeskind of droopy. But he has soft, fluffy brown hair and a nice stubblecovering his chin and jaw. He’s also tall. Really, really tall andRyan licks his lips thinking about someone that height pinning him tothe next wall to kiss him senseless.

OkayRyan, chill your bi little brain. It’s just a photographer.

Saidphotographer stands up to his full height – and Ryan can’t helpbut gulp a little at that – and removes the lens of his camera,swapping it for another one with quick, practiced movement. When helooks up, his gaze brushes Ryan and Ryan can’t help it, he lifts ahand in greeting and smiles a bit. The guy pauses and then grins andwaves back.

Somewherebetween high school and college, Ryan has learned to always followwhat’s happening on the show even if he was paying attention tosomething else. He knows he’s going to be on stage in five, so hejust smirks at the tall guy, gestures towards the stage and shrugsapologetically. The photographer seems amused and just nods and giveshim a thumbs up. Ryan chuckles as the thumbs up turns into fingerguns and a wink. He pretends to swoon and sees the guy’s earspinken. Interesting.He smiles at the man before he ducks backstage and gets ready for hisnumber.

Afterthe show, he finds the photographer again. He is ambling about,offering people at the tables to take their picture on the Calliopewith the show’s scenery in the background. From what Ryan can see,the guy is joking a lot, making people laugh genuine laughter whilehe is taking pictures. Afterwards, he shows them the tablet he iscarrying in a bag under his arm, probably showing off their pictureson a big screen. He hands out business cards and Ryan can see himcollect the odd tip, always humble and grateful. Ryan is hanging outat the bar and buffet. He normally focuses on buffets and stacks hisplate with a bunch of fried food, but tonight, he is distracted. Ryanisn’t sure what exactly draws him to the guy. He is neitherparticularly hot or charming, but there is just something about himthat seems friendly and comforting and, as embarrassing it feels,Ryan could use someone who is just supportive and nice.

Luckily,his interest doesn’t seem as one-sided as he has feared, becauseeventually, the guy passes the bar and just quickly grabs a sausageroll to stuff his face with before he is heading straight for Ryan.Ryan knows he should probably fall into a pose that makes him lookaloof and charming, but he is sick and tired of all the flirting tipshe has gotten over the years. He feels a genuine attraction to thisman, so he decides to be genuine in return.

“Uh.Hey.” The man smiles down at Ryan and Ryan feels his stomach flip alittle. “I saw you earlier, remember me?”

Ryanchuckles. “Yeah, uh. I do remember. Did you think I wouldn’t?”

Thephotographer smiles thinly.

“Itdepends on the person. There are some who consider the staff kind of…replaceable. They don’t recall our names or faces. Not that yourcrew did that, but some other show folk have done that. Sorry.”

Ryanwaves him off.

“Noworries, you’re not insulting me or anything. I know some peoplehave huge egos.”

Theman nods.

“Isit okay if I hang out here a bit?”

Ryanblinks.

“Ofcourse! You don’t have to ask that.”

Theguy leans against the wall next to Ryan and he seems to relax alittle as he looks over and smiles. He has a nice smile and Ryanfinds himself mirroring it.

“Iguess I got in touch with too many… uh, complicated people.” Theman says and laughs. “There are some people who don’t want to beseen with me.”

Ryanfrowns.

“Whythe fuck not?”

Theguy shrugs.

“Classicism,I think? I’m just a dudetaking pictures of people who deserve having their picture takenbecause they are rich and beautiful.” He sounds a little bitter andRyan feels himself nodding.

“Yeah,I get it. The kind who wants entertainment but treats entertainerslike dancing monkeys. I know what you mean.”

Hecatches the guy shoot him a look, measuring and unsure.

“I’msorry you get that shit, too. If it helps, I thought your show wasreally amazing.”

Ryansmiles.

“Itdoes. Thank you.”

Thephotographer laughs and it sounds of relief.

“I’mShane, by the way.”

Heholds out his hand and Ryan shakes it.

“I’mRyan.”

Shanesmiles back at him and Ryan could swear he sees a sparkle in thosehazel eyes.

“Well,Ryan. I took a bunch of pictures of your show… wanna help me pickthe best ones?”

Theyend up at a table in the back where they go through the picturesShane took. Ryan is impressed. Whatever Shane did to take and editthem, the colors are popping wonderfully, which has always beensomething that was very important to him in this show. Shane alsoseems to be able to capture movement very well without causing thepicture to blur. Ryan smiles down at a picture of the main actressand him and he feels great.

“Isthat your girlfriend?” Shane asks.

Ryanknows that tone. That actively by-the-by behavior. The question thatwas really a different one: “Are you single or are you taken?”

Hedecides to go easy on the guy.

“No,no. She’s a great friend but we could never fit together likethat.” He laughs.

“Ihad a boyfriend a while ago, but it didn’t work out so I’ve beenliving the single life ever since.”

Shanelooks over at him, eyes widening and Ryan smirks at him.

Theydon’t push anywhere that night. Instead, they talk about picturesand Shane explains to him what adjustments he made to capture thecolors so well. Ryan listens intently but still instantly forgetshalf of it. He admits it to Shane, who just laughs and promises toteach him again and again if he wants to.

Afterthat, they are sort of glued at the hip. Some of Shane’sphotographs are just for Ryan. Moments during the show where Shanehad zoomed in to take a picture of Ryan looking especially good. Ryanfeels flattered, but he also is worried. He doesn’t want this guyto believe that he is just talking to him so he gets the bestpictures.

Hemakes a plan. On one of the nights they don’t have a show, he hangsaround the dining room until Shane is done taking pictures. He wavesat the other man to catch his attention and his heart flutters whenhe sees that face split into a smile. They hang out in the kitchen.The cook lets them, because they are technically staff and each ofthem is sitting in the back with a filled plate while talking.

“Iwas wondering.” Ryan starts, pushing himself to continue. “Do youmaybe want to hang out at my cabin later? Each of the actors got abottle of Champagne as a gift from the captain. But drinking alonesounds like a stupid idea.”

Heis laughing for good measure, but the way Shane’s eyes widen almostmakes him laugh even more.

“Uh,I mean. Are you sure you don’t want to keep it for a betteroccasion?”

Ryanleans in, not too much, but enough to insinuate something.

“Ican’t think of a better occasion than sharing it with you.”

Thereit is, the clear breach from fun flirting to serious flirting and hedoesn’t miss Shane swallowing.

“Imean… I feel really honored…”

Ryan’sheart starts to beat faster and faster as he is waiting for the“but”. It doesn’t come, however.

“Areyou sure?” Shane asks, eyes wide and stunned. Ryan frowns at him.

“Ofcourse I’m sure! Why wouldn’t I?”

Shaneblinks and actually blushes.

“Imean. You’re a pretty popular actor and singer and dancer. I’mjust a dude who takes pictures.”

AndRyan understands. His heart melts a little as he looks at Shane.

“Youwere never just a dude who takes pictures to me. I would love to hangout with you whichever way you want, Shane. Okay?”

Shaneonly nods, face pink.

Theyshare the Champagne and talk about shows and pictures and filming.Shane explains a bit about his camera to Ryan. He picks throughsome adjustments and talks about exposure and light with Ryanslouching on the bed next to him. Ryan doesn’t quite understandwhat Shane is getting at, until he catches a certain sentence:

“See,most people on these cruises are rich, privileged white people.Photographing them is easy because many cameras are made to taketheir picture. But when someone has brown or olive or black skin, youhave to fiddle with exposure a bit.”

Ryanwatches him with interest. They are about half way into the bottleand Ryan has taken off his blazer. He is still wearing the pink shirtand maroon pants after discarding the tie. Shane picks a lens andsits up to point the camera at Ryan. Ryan looks up, champagne flutein one hand, eyes wide and the flash goes off, less blinding than heexpected. Shane takes his tablet and swipes across the screen a bitand Ryan sits up to look over his shoulder. He sees himself, leaningon the bed, slightly surprised… and his skin glows.The brown tint fits the reddish outfit so well he feels his breathstop.

“See,babe?” He hears Shane say. “I told you. You’re a sight tobehold. Living, breathing art. I’m just some dude who takespictures.”

“Ah.”Ryan empties his flute and puts it away. He is familiar with thefeeling of inadequacy.

“Youthink I’m just hanging with you because you take good pictures?”

Shane’seyebrows twitch upwards.

“Uh…I don’t want to sound like I have a bad impressionof you- It’s just-”

Ryansmiles.

“Iget it. A bunch of people in the business have seduced you for you totake nice pictures of them?”

Shanechuckles.

“No,it never actually gets to the seducing. They just hang with me a bitand I take a bunch of pictures and then I leave.” He seems to sigh.“It’s okay. I’m doing it for the art. Not justso someone… I don’t know.Owes me affection, I guess.”

Ryanchuckles.

“Clearlythey don’t owe you anything. But in return, you don’t owe themeither, okay?”

Shaneseems to frown.

“ButI’m not an actor. My job isto take pictures of people like you.”

Ryansmiles softly.

“Andthat makes you a great person. You put so much thought in what you’redoing. Your photographs are beautiful. And you put so much work intothem. Work you really don’t have to put in just for a couple ofshow photographs.”

Hesmiles softly at Shane and it seems to work, because the other man isflushing and moving in his seat.

“I’m…I’m not doing it for attention.”

“Iget that.” Ryan whispers. He reaches out and runs a hand throughShane’s soft hair. “I guess you just caught mine. Do you… notwant it?”

Despiteeverything, Ryan wants to make sure. Shane could simply beintimidated by sitting next to someone who is kind of a “celebrity”,even though Ryan never saw himself that way. He doesn’t want Shaneto go along with something, just because Ryan is popular. Butapparently, his fear had been absurd.

Shaneblinks and laughs and leans in a little.

“Ofcourse I do. I have to admit, I kind of felt drawn to you from thesecond I saw you at the backstage door. But I’m just- And you are-Ryan are you even aware of how gorgeousyou are?”

Ryanchuckles.

“Well,that’s convenient. Because while I’m not sure what about youradmittedly strange face is so interesting to me… I have to admitI’m pretty smitten with you.”

Shane’seyes widen. Ryan sees him swallow hard and shuffle back a little.Ryan feels a sting of pain and discomfort.

“Imean… I’m sorry if that was too forward. I guess I just wantedyou to know that I’m not just some celebrity who wants nicepictures or is bored. I actually like you. And I’m happy to havemet you.”

Ryanmeans it. They have talked about a lot of random things and duringthat time, Ryan has realized that he and Shane fit togetherperfectly. Almost all of their interests overlap, they have the sametype of humor and the same taste in movies. The only thing theyreally disagree on is the existence of the supernatural, but their“fight” had quickly melted into an excited talk about theirfavorite Horror films.

“Ryan…you don’t want this. Me. You don’t want me. I’m a hugemess. I wanted to be someone and now I take pictures of richpeople on cruises, sucking up to them so they will leave me a nicetip. I’m a fucking failure. You have seen me. You know it.”

Ryanalmost laughs, but he doesn’t because Shane seems honestly upset.He takes the man’s hands.

“Listen,Shane. I really don’t have a negative opinion of your job. I’m abit upset about how little confidence you have in it, because I thinkit’s cool and you are really good at it. I still hope you will sendme that picture you took earlier. And if you don’t like me thatway, it’s cool. But if you are interested, I would like you to…well, stay here. Tonight.”

Shane’seyes seem huge in the low light of Ryan’s cabin.

“Really?”He finally manages.

Ryansmiles and leans in to press a kiss to the corner of the other man’smouth.

“Iknow you’re sometimes around a bunch of douches with too muchmoney, but just because I work on a stage doesn’t mean I sharetheir views on things.”

“No.”Shane says softly. “I mean… I didn’t think you would.”

Heglances at Ryan. It seems like he is trying to get across an apology.

“Iguess I was just worried that someone as magnificent as you wouldsettle for someone as average as… well, me.”

Ryan’sbreath stops for a second.

“Please.”He whispers. “Please don’t think you’re ever less thanperfect, okay?”

Shanechuckles a bit as Ryan leans in.

“Aren’tthose song lyrics?”

Ryansmirks, their lips almost touching. “Maybe?”

Shane’ssmile widens and Ryan feels a huff of laughter.

“Iwould love to stay with you, if you let me. And I will allow you totry and proof to me that I am nice to look at.”

Ryansnorts and cups the other man’s face in his hands.

“Ipromise I’ll do my very best, love.”

Shaneblinks and stares at him and then his tongue darts out to wet hislips. Ryan can hear the sound of Shane’s camera turning off as theman puts it aside.

“Okay.”Ryan feels the whisper more than he hears it. Shane’s breathtickles his lips. “Show me.”

Ryandoesn’t let him ask twice.

#shyan #skeptic believer #ask #anonymous #prompts #this was a cute prompt and i hope i did it justice #i'm sorry for writing so much insecure shane #i guess it's a coping mechanism #ffffff

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oliverherschel-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Summary:

Young high elven wizard and traveling minstrel, Talon, and his troupe arrive in the bustling city of Nerath. The king’s army stands at the brink of war, and the citizens wait anxiously for the shoe to drop, but the troupe is greeted warmly by the town as a source of respite.

Talon soon discovers that his arrival in Nerath has begun something much older than himself when the strings of fate begin to work tirelessly bringing him together with a soldier from the king’s army. However, as he and the soldier grow closer, he becomes increasingly stricken by guilt as his past comes back to haunt him.

Chapter One

The streets of Nerath were cleaner than the minstrel troupe had ever seen before their arrival. Having played exclusively in smaller towns and villages prior to this, it was the first time most of them had seen such a large city. The leader of the troupe, a stocky human man called Wallace, attributed it to vanity and presentation – the same way the minstrels would practice any new choreography they had at night or on the road between shows, rather than during their stay for any bystander to witness. He liked to maintain a visage of ethereal professionalism. A person could see their show in five cities and never see the same act, nor see how they came to be. Wallace’s troupe was changing and evolving, so much that the places that booked their shows were never sure if they had the coin to pay for the entertainment.

That much, Wallace had pride in. Though he thanked much of their most recent growth to their latest addition, the wizard Talon. They were lucky enough that he had skill with illusion magic even before he joined their ranks.

For what it was worth, Wallace had faith in Talon. Though he was a high elf, he was quick to learn his place among them, and even quicker to make that place useful. Wallace loathed to admit it, but Talon had an allure about him that drew the crowds in. On one hand, with the visions he could weave in a single deft stroke, but on the other, with the way he worked through the choreography of their dances. His stark golden features and slender form were common among high elves, but to the impoverished human villages they tended to visit, most of which had never seen an elf before, Talon was a living and breathing visual marvel. The illusions he cast did nothing but capture his audience’s awed gazes. He could make the world brighter or darker. He could twist rays of the sun to shine on their performance at will, as though the eyes of the Gods were watching along. And with the way he moved, Talon could make even his fellow minstrels forget about his magic and think it all just nature’s reaction to Talon’s dance.

With what they could do now, Wallace felt it was time for them to try their might at a higher stage, so with a letter inviting them to perform at one of the busiest inns in Nerath, the capital city of the human kingdom, Wallace packed up their wagons and headed out.

The streets were busy but wide. The wheels of the troupe’s wagon bumped over a few uneven rocks, but overall, their trip further into Nerath was uneventful. The crowds were easily navigated, and the few members of the troupe were uninterrupted in their vacant plucking at their instruments.

The self-proclaimed “busiest tavern” in Nerath was a tall and square building. A few twisted nails were pressed flat against the boards of stained wood. Its double doors were short and stout, and the windows at its front, from where the minstrels could see, seemed hastily cut into the wood before being filled with a bloated and misshapen glass. The sound that spilled from the slats in the wood was not a low jovial roar the minstrels were accustomed to hearing when they arrived in towns. Instead, they heard the crashing and yelling of uproarious drunks and needless violence.

Wallace glanced to his troupe. Along with the high elf, there were three women and another man. The youngest woman, Annette, had craned her head to catch a glimpse at the tavern from inside the wagon. Her teeth bared with a long hiss as an older patron came through the doors, knocking one of them off an unsteady hinge. She called something up to Wallace, but he couldn’t hear it past the sudden roar that came through the tavern’s now-open doors.

He took in a long breath and dropped himself down from [the driver’s bench]. Dusting off his clothing, he made his way inside the tavern and to the front bar – a task easier said than done. The crowd inside the tavern reminded him of tar that had filled a room. He couldn’t easily push through it, and every move he made offered results slower than the speed he had intended. After nearly treading on the legs and feet of a few patrons, Wallace got himself to the bar and clung to it.

“Bartender!” He called out over the raucous din and was quickly greeted by a brawny, dangerous looking man. “My name is Wallace. I was invited here to perform for your crowd, with the offer of food and lodging for myself and my troupe.” Reaching into his pocket, he displayed the letter to the man. “Here is my proof. We’re all here and prepared for our show if you’d like for us to begin immediately.”

Something close to gratitude flashed in the man’s eyes as he nodded – though his mouth remained set in a stern line and his brow furrowed deeper. Wallace returned the nod and offered his hand, which the man gave a firm shake before Wallace was back to carving through the crowd and out the door.

He returned to find the doors at the back of the wagon thrown open, and his troupe waiting beside it for his return. Talon, who had seated himself at the edge of the wagon, caught his eye first, and gave a hearty wave, drawing the other minstrels’ attention to him.

“They’d like us to perform now,” he said to them, walking closer. “Are your instruments unpacked?”

Annette grinned at him and nodded, though he mostly ignored it. She was one of the singers, and a dancer, and Wallace had grown used to ignoring her jests. Franklin, the other human man in the troupe, picked himself up from the cobblestone road. His tambourine was tucked beneath his arm, and he offered Wallace a quick nod to answer. The oldest woman, Lorelai, held her violin close to her as she approached Wallace. Bea, Franklin’s sister, leaned out of the wagon from over Talon’s head.

“Then shall we head inside?” Lorelai said, tapping Wallace’s temple with her bow. “Perhaps we can tame the crowd with some splendor.”

Smoothly, under Lorelai’s guidance, the troupe carved their way through the tavern’s crowd and to an empty corner of the main room. Wallace muttered to each of them briefly before he took his place by the wall, watching as they prepared to begin their song. For this particular set, Talon joined him. Glancing down at the elf, Wallace saw him raise a hand, his eyes already set on the other members of the troupe. As Wallace nodded to Lorelai, she raised her bow to the strings, and played the first note in the song. Yet, as she did, the crowd grew quiet, watching as sparks of light erupted from her violin as she played. Almost soundlessly beside him, Talon muttered out an incantation that grew increasingly complex with the music. As Lorelai played, and Franklin joined in, blasts of various lights and colors burst forth from their instruments and hung in the air around them.

Then it was time for Annette and Bea to begin. The colors that had been placed in the air by the instruments expanded throughout the tavern as the women sang. Thick clouds of yellow, pink, and purple painted the walls and ceiling of the inn, until it had seemed like the minstrels and the patrons stood in a field of lilacs that waved in a gentle breeze. The patrons were still, silent as it washed over them. Wisps of light spun between them, and they stood perfectly still, as if they were afraid to touch any of it, until the song ended.

With the final gradual clatter from Franklin’s tambourine, the crowd in the tavern began to rile up again, with their attention focused on the minstrels. However, it wasn’t the same reaction as the group had come to expect from their audience. The patrons of this inn were infuriated, enough that a few tankards of beer came flying toward the troupe.

Frowning, Wallace met the gaze of the bartender near the back of the tavern, who shook his head and pointed behind himself before gesturing to the rest of the troupe. After a brief moment of processing, Wallace nodded and pushed himself between his minstrels and the patrons as they slipped through the crowd and toward the bar, where they were let through by the bartender and into the backroom.

The cook of the tavern gave them a bright grin when they slipped through the door with the bartender behind them.

“I’ll clear things up out here,” the bartender said, nodding to Wallace. “Michel, give ‘em a warm welcome. They earned themselves some food and bed.” The cook, Michel, turned the smile to the bartender as he slipped his way back into the main room of the tavern.

“I’ll bet y’all were responsible for those lovely tunes out in the main hall,” Michel said as he turned back to the pot he was stirring before the troupe had come in. “Don’ know why y’all got booed so harsh out there. I thought it was beautiful. And, ‘s been a while since I heard any music played out there. Norm’lly, those scoundrels drown it all out.”

Lorelai shook her head. “Our songs are always beautiful, but apparently, those drunks out there can’t take our splendor as well as the ones in villages can.” Michel laughed at that.

“Splendor, eh?” He prodded, and Annette pitched in.

“We use magic during our songs. Normally, it’s just small stuff like colors and lights or smells, but the spell was really big today.” She said with a sly glance over at Talon. He didn’t meet her eye.

“Well, no wonder they all screamed you out. Ain’t no natural magics in this city, and there won’ ever be natural magics. All magics come ‘round here been unnatural – elf magics.” To punctuate, Michel brought his spoon up and audibly smelled the concoction.

“What’s wrong with elf magic?” Franklin spoke up, stepping slightly in front of Talon.

Wallace was the one to answer it, slowly closing his eyes and shaking his head as he did. “Well, I could have told you that, Frank,” he said, before looking up at his troupe again. His gaze only briefly skirting over Talon. “The smaller towns we normally visit – they don’t get touched by this war quite like a place like Nerath would. Especially since the army’s stationed here, and these people most likely hear nothing but propaganda about it.” He laughed, something that was more of a weak puff of air escaping him.

“I’ve kept you all in the country for too long it seems,” he said. “And frankly, I didn’t think the spell would be that big today. But I understand why it was, so I’ll explain why it shouldn’t have been. Luckily, it seems we can stay here for at least tonight, thanks to the deal I had already made with the barman.

“Tomorrow, we’ll need to pick up some more coin. I don’t know if we’ll be able to play here again, but if we can’t, we’ll need to find something. I’ll try to make another deal, but I’d rather we be safe, housed, and fed while we’re here.” He paused for a moment and noticed the cook nodding along, listening along with his troupe.

“The human world is at war with the elves. This city, as the base of military operations, feels the brunt of that war. I had hoped… I had hoped the reaction wouldn’t be this extreme, and I regret not warning you all beforehand. The illusions tonight were not as practiced, and we have to be careful with that, especially during times such as these.” Wallace met Talon’s gaze. “While we’re here, we cannot use magic during our performances, unless we want to be run out on the street or labeled as elvish sympathizers. Our integrity must stand through use of song and dance alone. Though it is not what makes us unique, it is the safest path. Do you all understand?”

The troupe was quiet, but their affirmations didn’t require sound. At this time, Michel spoke up again.

“I’d say that’s th’ safe road, too. And ‘m sure my brother’ll keep y’all around if ya don’t do any o’ that hocus pocus shit while yer here.” With a few loud clangs, he tapped his spoon against the side of the pot. “Ah, well. Supper’s done. I’ll get y’all set before I tell Pike ‘bout it. ‘m sure it’s been a time since any o’ ya had a fillin’ meal.”

Setting her violin down against the wall, Lorelai bowed her head slightly to him. “Thank you, sir. And Wallace,” she glanced over at the man. “The spell today was my idea. I wanted to impress the audience and must have forgotten the politics. I am sorry.”

Wallace turned his gaze to Lorelai and nodded. “We learn. I’ll speak to the barman… Pike before eating. If anything, it will put my mind at ease.” With that, he slipped out of the backroom again.

A silence fell over them as Michel handed them each their bowls. His eyes hung for a moment on Talon before he turned back to his work.

“So…” He started with a forced casual tone to his voice. “Why d’y’all have an elf with you?”

Uneasily, the younger members of the troupe exchanged looks, while Lorelai and Talon’s gazes met. He opened his mouth to speak, but Lorelai held a finger to her lips before she answered for him.

“He’s a wonderful dancer,” she said, turning her silver eyes to the cook. Michel nodded, echoing the finality that had been in her voice.

“’m sure he is.”

#the ethics of kings and gods #ethics wip #chapter #my writing

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