#but (and I feel this might be somewhat controversial) I think there's some fun angst here for Gali too

[thereadingaddic7]

[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 4

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

If you have been reading this series....things are going to start happening....

Title: Dreams, Chapter 4

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3773

Summary: For Sam and the reader, a winter night working together leads to an uncomfortable confrontation and a confusing dream.

Warnings: angst, fluff?, alcohol, swearing, slow burn, I think that’s it!

           The tree was still up a few days later when you were throwing together sandwiches. It was a gloomy afternoon, stealing from the already meager offering of sunlight you got each day, but at least you could see the Christmas lights as you worked in the little kitchen and listened to Me Talk Pretty One Day. Brushing crumbs off your hands, you ducked your head into the bedroom to tell Sam lunch was ready.

           He was sitting on the bed with his legs crossed under him, looking surprisingly young with his long limbs folded. He glanced over at you briefly with a noncommittal nod before turning his gaze back to the wall. You walked into the room when you understood; following his eyes to the photos where you’d taped them up. Toeing off each of your boots, you climbed onto the mattress with him and gently put your arm around his broad shoulders. “He would’ve loved this,” Sam murmured, and it was almost too low for you to hear.

           “Which part?” you asked, trying to match his tone.

           “This cabin, the bar, Christmas.”

           “I think you’re right.”

           You looked over at the pictures, a tight row intentionally placed a little too low so you could see them as you fell asleep. Sam tilted his head to rest on yours.

           “We had a lot of fun though, didn’t we?”

           You considered the memories and the heat coming off of him under your cold fingers. “Yeah, we did.” After a beat you opened your mouth again. “Getting that tree was fun.”

           Sam pulled back and you looked up at him. A sad smirk was tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”

           You curved your head back into him. “Dean would’ve liked that too.” He was silent for a moment.

           “There’s no way he would’ve worked at the bar and not made every night a party.”

           He was right. Even just passing through, bars like the one you worked at were Dean’s favorite—no frills, honest people, décor not so nice it couldn’t tolerate some spills in the name of a good time. In the right mood Dean would’ve been everyone’s best friend in an hour, taking shots with the owners and playing pool with anyone who had a spare minute.

           You sat upright and tucked your hair behind your ears. “Okay, then tonight’ll be a party.”

           Sam looked at you in surprise. “Uh, what?”

           “You heard me. Tonight, we’re doing tequila shots and dancing on tables and talking to people longer than to take their orders.”

           “It’s a Monday.”

           “Wouldn’t have stopped Dean. Now come eat this sandwich I slaved over, you’re a lightweight on an empty stomach.”

           Sam’s smile was tired, but he obediently untangled his legs and got off the bed to head to the kitchen. You padded after him, letting a deep breath out through your nose. Dean would be so pissed if he saw you weren’t being strong for Sammy, just a little tougher, come on. By the time Sam sat down at the tiny breakfast bar to eat, you’d screwed your face back together.

           In some ways, it was better that you’d had this sudden change of heart on a Monday, when there weren’t so many customers to watch you crumble if it came to that. You had a propensity for being a sad drunk even in the best circumstances, and this first time truly drinking around people since losing Dean was about the worst circumstance as you could imagine.

           A few shots in Sam’s cheeks were flushed and you could feel the heat in yours as you sucked hard on a lime wedge. He was pretending to know about some football controversy with the over-shoulder towel that was ever present when he worked, his legs crossed and accentuating the long, relaxed line of his body. It was an especially cold night and condensation clouded the windows of the bar where hot air met the freezing glass. You watched as a woman about your age—you were pretty sure her name was Megan but had only served her a handful of times—traced lazy shapes in it before replacing the moisture with a hot breath and starting over. It was almost hypnotic and you didn’t know how long it was until you snapped back to reality when Sam’s warm hands wrapped over your shoulders.

           “You okay?” he asked, low and private, straight into your ear.

           “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just tired,” you lied.

           Sam gently and half-consciously kneaded the muscles in your shoulders. Before you realized what you were doing, muscle memory bobbed your head to the side, kissed his rough knuckles, and pressed your cheek to his hand. You both froze.

           “Aw, so cute,” Steve sang out from across the bar top.

           You took your chance to step forward out of Sam’s grip. “Yeah, yeah. Refill?” Steve nodded, and you snatched another Miller High Life out of a mini fridge under the bar and popped the cap with a fluid practiced motion. About a week ago you’d realized that the twist-bottle callus you had just below the first joint of your index finger had come back, a recurrent souvenir that had lasted years after you’d quit bartending last time. You were thankful for it as much as the distraction from your bizarre reflexive step over the unspoken boundary between you and Sam. It wasn’t that the contact was unprecedented, obviously, you could only catch even chunks of sleep tightly wound around Sam and kept your fingers wrapped around his forearm as he drove, but Dean was the last person whose skin your lips had touched. Until now, you corrected yourself. It was a very specific kind of closeness in a relationship already stretching the limits of what appropriate intimacy could possibly be.

           You jammed a cold metal scoop into the ice machine to break up chunks and buy some time. The same grief-hungry part of your brain that searched Sam for facial tics and habits that Dean had couldn’t stop repeating how much those hands felt the same, dry and warm and firm under your lips, under your cheek, and you wanted to clutch at them, a phantom of Dean’s that first stitched you up in Bobby’s kitchen all those years ago when life was easy and bloody, so nervous to touch you his hands shook and the scar still remained to this day. You crashed through those thoughts with a solid thump of This Is Sam Not Dean Sam Your Friend Sam The Only Thing You Have In This World, and how cruel it was to triple distill him down to only the parts that were reminiscent of someone else. Sam, who chopped wood to keep you warm, who restocked beer in the little life you’d created here. Sam, who in his own unfathomable sadness let you latch onto him as a steady point in a storm and kept you afloat just as you had him.

           “Hello?” Joe repeated, a touch of concern peeking through his annoyance.

           “Yeah, sorry! What’s up?” you asked, hearing the shrillness of your voice as you tried to overcompensate.

           “I’m trying to buy you a drink, hon. 5 shots, dealer’s choice.”

           “You, me, Jake, Steve and who?” you asked, racking up 5 sturdy shot glasses.

           “Your Paul Bunyan over there, unless you’re trying to take his too. I’ve never seen you guys really drink before, gotta jump on my chance,” he winked.

           “Oh, okay. Uh, Sam—” you called out across the bar. He was wiping up a spill you knew didn’t exist from the way he focused too hard on the bar top, trying to look busy. He looked up at his name and walked over with his hands jammed in his pockets. His unease was palpable, and your heart sank as you let go of any possibility that he wouldn’t have registered the fleeting kiss and the shift was only in your head. “—Joe’s trying to get you drunk.”

           “Careful, Joe, you think you can carry me home?” Sam joked, and you thought you would be the only one who’d be able to detect the tightness in his throat underneath it. He rubbed a lime wedge on the web of his thumb and poured salt over it before handing you the shaker. You almost dropped it when your fingertips grazed his.

           “To the only people dumb enough to move up here in the winter,” Steve proclaimed, touching his glass to the counter before shooting it. You all followed suit, politely chuckling at the teasing. When you took the lime wedge out of your mouth, Sam had his palm open in front of you. You dropped the rind in his hand and let him take the stack of glasses to the sink.

           It didn’t get as crazy as Dean likely would’ve gotten which was probably good for the bar’s bottom line and your drive back to the cabin, but Sam did end up somewhat accidentally hustling Jake for $100 over a game of pool and singing along to Shania Twain when you put it on. You were careful not to touch him or stare too long the rest of the evening, and by the time you were flipping chairs up for the night you had almost convinced yourself that nothing was different save for a little softness around the edges of the ever-present bolus of sadness in your stomach.

           Sam had two cases of Miller Lite from the basement in his grip, the veins on his forearms popping out as he set them on the ground in front of the beer cooler and crouched to replace the ones that had been drunk that night. You double checked that the cash drawer of the register was even and hopped up to sit on a spare spot of counter.

           “That’s the last one?”

           “Yeah, I already did the Coors and Bud.”

           “Are you good to drive or do you want me to?” You wiggled your toes in your shoes, feeling the ache of standing for hours in the balls of your feet.

           “No, I’m good to drive,” Sam said, shaking hair out of his face. He looked up at you, hazel eyes hard to read with fatigue or fear or pity or some murky combination thereof. You drew tight spirals over orders you’d taken that night, feeling the pen press impressions into the small notepad. The absence of words spread out to close the distance between you, feeling cloying and claustrophobic even as the Nate Bargatze standup you’d cued up piped out through the bar’s speakers.

           “Hey, I—”

           “Are you—” Sam started at the same time. You held out a palm to signal for him to continue, not truly wanting to speak yourself. “Uh, sorry. I just…I—I’m not Dean. I can’t be Dean.”

           The words and deflation in his shoulders made you wish you’d been set ablaze. Stunned, you felt your mouth open and close around words that weren’t materializing, just collecting in your throat and hardening there, the backup starting to choke you.

           “I, uh—I know,” you finally managed to squeak past the lump.

           And part of you wondered if he was right in thinking you were using him as a stand-in. As atypical as the whole situation was, you couldn’t imagine that it was normal to sleep in the same bed and spend virtually every minute together. You began to feel sick at the thought that Sam would be out living up to his potential somewhere if it weren’t for you, back to law school or righting the wrongs of the world rather than in a Northwoods dive bar restocking domestic beers at 2:30 on a Tuesday morning. The selflessness of it seemed unfathomable and yet so entirely something Sam would do. Suddenly it felt like the walls were collapsing around you.

           The moment stretched out and Sam stood up, leaning on the counter across the bar from you. His jaw was set hard and he tilted his head the way he did when he was trying to stop himself from teetering over the edge of tears. “Sam, I—I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

           He cleared his throat but looked down at the nonstick mats on the floor. “No, ah, you don’t need to apologize. I just need you to know I can’t be him for you.”

           You didn’t dare look up in case you met Sam’s eyes as you nodded, so eviscerated and humiliated you were having a hard time taking a deep breath. After a long minute you heard the clink of bottles as Sam finished restocking, grabbed your coat to mumble something about warming up the car, and went to the small parking lot. You managed to make it into the Impala before your vision started swimming and the potential enormity of the situation crashed against you; was this the end of your carved out hideaway, full of grief and memories and comfort and little moments of affection and joy you had just barely started to accept? All for some stupid thought that Dean would be happier if you were out getting wasted, an idea that reduced him to a drifter barfly instead of the complex man who’d been more loyal and loved more deeply than anyone you’d ever met. The tears dried up quickly as self-disgust rolled over you and started ringing in your ears. You didn’t hear Sam coming and jolted when he opened the door, recoiling against the passenger side to give him as much space as possible. He glanced over at you with eyes so pitying that you couldn’t bear to look at them, staring out the window at the abject darkness the rest of the drive home.

           Sam didn’t turn on the stereo.

           Back in the cabin, you quickly shucked off your coat and snatched what you needed out of the bedroom before barricading yourself in for a shower. You didn’t bother taking your makeup off first, allowing the sting of mascara to get washed away in the water. It was too hot and you didn’t care; you only came out when you realized you were going to leave Sam in a cold shower in the last week in December.

           You brushed your teeth in the mirror and took a few deep breaths before sliding out, heading past the open bedroom door straight to the kitchen in order to gulp down a panicked glass of water. Mercifully, you heard the bathroom door lock when Sam entered it quietly. You took the opportunity to grab your pillow out of the bedroom, tossing it on the couch and pulling the throw off the sofa’s back to cover yourself. Your eyes were closed tight and ramming up against your racing mind when Sam came out.

           “You don’t have to sleep on the couch,” he said softly from behind you.

           You opened your eyes but didn’t move your head to seek him out. “It’s okay.”

           Sam appeared in front of you, legs bending severely to perch on the short coffee table. His bare chest still glistened a little from the shower and you knew the green flannel pants he was wearing were soft and thick to the touch. Earnest hazel eyes meeting yours, Sam braced his elbows on his knees.

           “Sam, I’m really sorry. It was a weird reflex and it was unfair for me to—”

           “No, I, it—it wasn’t that. It’s just like, sometimes when you look at me, you look like you’re seeing a ghost. I’m just—I need to know you’re not staying here because I’m the closest you can get.”

           If your heart hadn’t been shattered and re-shattered over the last almost- two-years and today, the fear and resignation in his eyes would’ve sent you to pieces. You pushed up to sitting in order to give Sam the respect he deserved.

           “I can’t—I won’t lie and say you don’t remind me of him, but you’re my best friend—been my best friend since I first met you guys—and I am so, so, sorry I made you feel…I could never try to replace him, Sam.” You were barely making sense, having a hard time stringing together how you felt. “The only place I want to be is with you. You’re all I’ve got.”

           It felt desperate and needy but it was true and Sam deserved the truth. You didn’t shy away from him, stayed there holding his gaze until he seemed content having searched your eyes for anything hiding from the light. After a moment he nodded tightly against lips pressed in a firm line. “Okay.”

           Sam stood up, the broad planes of him catching the glitter of the Christmas tree lights. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and tentative. “Can you, uh, can you come back?”

           It took a moment to process before you nodded, standing up and snagging your pillow before following Sam into the bedroom. You climbed into your side of the mattress, close to the wall and your tiny precious gallery, and Sam folded around you, his warm skin seeping through your t-shirt onto your back. You felt tense and comfortable all at once, safe and uneasy. The two of you sat there for a long time, the relatively light weight of Sam’s arm over you betraying that he wasn’t asleep either. When drowsiness finally began to tug your eyelids closed, he pressed his lips to a spot on your shoulder exposed from the looseness of its sleeve. The last thing you remembered was his arm going heavy like an anchor across yours.

           The sun is hot and delicious on your cheeks, baking the cotton of your jeans and t-shirt into you and turning the roof tiles under you into a frying pan. Wispy clouds move with no urgency across the sky above you and you can’t think of anything better than this, glancing down to worn laces on Dean’s boots undone to give his feet some air as his t-shirt clings half-humid to him. You know his freckles are going to be darker by dinner and it makes you smile to think about it but you’ll never tell him—it makes him shy to be reminded of the spray of pigment that makes him feel alternatively feminine or juvenile but never stunning the way you think it should. You press up to your elbows, barely registering the sting of heat and grit of the roof underneath you and kiss the spot on Dean’s arm where his shoulder slopes into his bicep. He smiles down at you, a lazy half-open smirk perfectly framed by the blue sky behind him like a painting.

           “You’re so weird,” he chuckles. “Who kisses someone’s arm?”

           “Then come down here,” you toss back, exaggerated pout ready for him. He ducks down to you, the warmth of his lips on yours like a cookie fresh out of the oven, like sliding down the hallway on new fuzzy socks, like the summer’s first plunge into water.

           Sam’s head peeks out from under the gutter. “Bobby’s putting brats on the grill, do you want any?”

           “Hell yeah, extra onions,” Dean yells down, grinning smugly when you make a face.

           “Me too!” you call out, watching Sam squint up at the roof. 

           “No onions though, right?”

           “You’re the best, Sam.”

           Sam beams up at you, dimples almost high enough to reach the squint-crinkled skin around his eyes. He nods and ducks back out of sight.

           “Come on, I’m thirsty,” Dean says, standing up. He reaches a hand down to you and takes a half step back to brace himself, stepping on the lace of his other boot. He stumbles and it’s a quick shuffle and you realize he’s too close to the edge his next step is into thin air like Wil E. Coyote and you’re grabbing at that same thin air and you can see his face change when he realizes and some part of your subconscious that’s even deeper than this can feel it’s happening again and the sound is so final, such a wet crack but you scrabble to the edge anyway because you have to see and Dean’s lying there.

           He’s clutching his left leg bent against his chest like a stretch. “Son of a bitch, what the fuck!” he mutter-yells, and you hear the thump of Sam and Bobby running through the old house and skittering to a stop in front of him as you carefully shimmy down the porch post with your hands tearing on the gutter’s rusty edge, jumping down when you feel the railing beneath you.

           “Dean! Are you okay?” Sam yells over Bobby who’s cursing out the goddamn idjit told you not to climb up there it’s like having a bunch of teenagers in this goddamned house and Dean winces and nods angrily.

           You’re lifting up the hem of his jeans and gingerly taking off his boot and Dean hisses when you peel off his sock, but nothing is poking through the skin and that’s better than you expected. “Can you stand up?”

           He nods again and you can practically taste him biting back the string of expletives when you and Sam each take an arm and lift him to standing. You snake a hand into his pocket and grab the keys to the Impala, leaning behind Dean to say to his brother, “I’ll take him to the ER.”

           Dean doesn’t argue and it’s yet more evidence that it’s pretty bad, but you feel fine, elated almost, that he’s still warm under your palm and against your side, that he still smells like fresh laundry and domestic beer and a little bit of salt and engine grease. Sam’s long arm opens the door when you get there and slides Dean in and you promise to text when you know how bad it is as you round the car and get to the driver’s side. You turn the key in the ignition and throw your arm around Dean’s seat to reverse out of the driveway. Dean’s looking at you as you throw the car back into drive, staring almost, and his face is soft even around the broken ankle.

           “I’m always going to love you,” he says, smooth and sure of himself. You tug your eyes away from the road with half a question on your face but Dean doesn’t explain why he’s saying this now. “I’ll be okay and I’m always going to love you, no matter what.”

           It doesn’t make any sense and you open your mouth to tease this unexpected sappiness, remind him the ankle is just one more in a long string of injuries he’ll owe you for, and then Dean’s gone, the car’s gone, and the heat is coming from Sam’s chest in front of you. 

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 5

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

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[dappercritter]

Once More Unto the Bre-er, Black, I Guess:

Quick Thoughts on that Pacific Rim Anime

Having given into my curiosity, I have decided to start watching Pacific Rim: The Black.

While, I am still skeptical of the significantly darker tone and how much farther they’ll take it before it becomes unwatchable, I am pleasantly surprised that that’s not all there is to it. The series is going to some bleak places, make no mistake, and this will no doubt turn off those who want lighter and more uplifting fare from their Pacific Rim content. But I was pleasantly surprised to see that the series has a good dose of heart and wit—with colour to boot! So far the series feels like an enjoyable blend of the pathos and heart of the first movie, with the escalated stakes and saturated colour and sense of humour of the sequel.

In a way it feels like a welcome change of pace and a course correction of sorts: It learns from the mistakes of Uprising while building on the foundation the original set in place.

The characters and story already have me engaged. Right from the get-go, you get a sense of how dire this fight is, being plunged right into the action at its most intense. You feel the stakes even before anything that serious has happened yet. The Travis family already shows a healthy balance of resolve, charm, and angst that even at it’s earliest, you can’t help but care for these folks. Hayley already strikes me as my favourite for her spunk and her soft-heartedness. Taylor is a bit rougher around the edges and can feel bit like a jerk at times, but he’s got just as much of a heart, and you quickly learn why it’s hardened.  Loa is already stealing the show, as you can imagine a snarky mecha AI would. The first training scene gets special mention just for how hilariously inspired it feels.

When the tragedy does strike—and believe me, friends, it strikes fast here—you will be caught off-guard. I won’t ruin the surprise because I don’t want to overhype it or spoil it for anyone who wants to watch it too, but in short, you are lulled in a sense of secure tranquility. You get the feeling that things aren’t so bad where the story starts off. You get to know the other characters just a little bit, but you get a real sense of connection between everyone. Then just as when things seem to be getting fun, things take a drastically dark turn. There is a shocking loss, that while sterile in some ways, makes it clear right off the bat, that no one is safe in this world and it sticks.

Ordinarily, I’m not one for tragedies, but after Polygon’s last giant monster-based sci-fi tragedy, the infamous Godzilla Earth anime trilogy, it feels like a drastic even welcome improvement. In Gen Urobochi’s controversial high sci-fi take on the King of the Monsters, you got a barebones story where everything was either inferred, vague, or explained in an almost unbearable level of technical detail. You never got to see things at their best, or got an idea of what there was to care about or fight for. There was virtually no sense of connection between anyone, or a feeling that this universe was lived in. The characters had no real personality, defined almost entirely by their archetypes and positions, and some looked almost indistinguishable from one another. Here, the writing, art direction, and character design, all come together to create an undeniable sense of life. That’s right: not only is this an improvement over a Pacific Rim movie, but it’s an improvement over three whole Godzilla movies from the same studio. (Although having a Western writing team who is more accustomed to character tics and interactions probably helped in that regard.)

That said, the art and animation do leave some things to be desired. Again, while Polygon is clearly improving in some areas, this is pretty standard fare for them. While the character designs are nicely made and the cinematography easy on the eyes, with some shots looking beautifully rendered that I mistook a CG character for a 2D one at least twice, there are still some framerate and composition problems that stick out like sore monster thumbs. While only momentary, I did notice that sometimes the framerates for character movement would jump from smooth for a shot or two and then return back to Polygon’s normal stiff one immediately after, and while the backgrounds are beautiful sometimes it easier to tell there are CG characters walking on 2D pictures than others. Especially when it looks like the they are literally walking on a flat service at an angle.

Moreover, while the kaiju and jaeger design continue to impress in Pacific Rim fashion, they do feel like they suffer from similar problems as Uprising had. The jaegers you see in the opening and the main jaeger, Atlas Destroyer included, continue the trend of smoother and more vibrantly coloured mechas in the vein of Striker Eureka and G Danger/Avenger than the more characterized, robotic designs of the original, and if not for Atlas’s striking colour scheme and unique status as an unarmed training jaeger, probably would not stand out from any of the others. The kaiju are all looking good—and come from rifts that open on the mainland rather than the ocean this time—with distinctive new outlines and even new species for some added peril, but they do lack the monstrous alien aesthetic of the original movie’s monsters in some places, but not enough so to bother you. Although you will be wondering when the Precursors (or whoever made them, because Boy, does this show raise some questions fast) thought straight-up giant shrink-wrapped Dobermans were they way to go when it came to picking off humans, or when they decided to experiment with their colour palette. Most jarringly though, while the show does it’s best to regain that sense of weight and scale Jaegers had in the original film, they still feel lighter and faster like in Uprising, but with Polygon’s suddenly fluid framerate and stiffer range of motion, it might just stick out more here.

The music is alright. I’m not a fan of the subdued opening title music. I get it supposed to set the mood for the dire and dramatic tone and while it does, it also feels strangely too serious for a show from a franchise with as much punch as Pacific Rim. The main titles themselves are alright too, but they’re nothing too special. There’s some cool imagery and the stills of kaiju fighting jaegers remind me of the opening and end credits of the first movie, but some of looks less rendered than other parts and a lot of it feels just bland. (In short, my thoughts have improved since I first saw it, but not by much.) The series soundtrack itself is fine—it has a somewhat similar feel to the films’ scores but it’s also has some stock cues sprinkled throughout. So not much to talk about at the moment. The end theme is pretty good, since it reminds me the most of the original movie’s main theme. Hopefully we’ll get more of that.

I think my biggest gripe is one that simply cannot be overcome. The name: Why is it just “The Black”? Race-related jokes and unfortunate implications aside, it is just dumb. Bland. Uninspired. It reeks of trying too hard to seem nuanced and dark, but it just makes sound like it will be generic grimdark pretentiousness. Which is especially damaging when that is clearly not the case here. Even in the story, it makes no sense. From what I can tell about the plot and world so far, there was literally nothing stopping them from calling it “The Blackout”, which would have just been so much more appropriate. And don’t tell me “Pacific Rim: The Blackout,” wouldn’t sound even cooler.

(Or perhaps “The Mucky-Muck,” but maybe that’s just my Tenacious D fan-brain speaking.)

TLDR; the show definitely has it’s flaws and I’m concerned how far they’ll take the darkness with the series, but it’s pleasantly surprised me in a lot of ways. I look forward to seeing where it goes.

[mypoisonedvine]

Hi JD, I hope you’re having a fantastic day. Your sleepover was really fun yesterday and it got me thinking. I hope you don’t mind me coming to you.

I’m a writer who has done somewhat of a variety of genres in my work with lots of different themes (from fluff to angst to soft!dark/dark). I love your writing because you always create such depth of character, setting, and situation—it’s really something special. I especially enjoy your step/foster/incest fics because I feel like the narratives you create around it explore some very dynamic relationships and emotions. It never really feels sleazy or shameful to indulge in the stories you create with these themes, and I really appreciate the beauty of you writing them like that. I have my own idea for an incest fic, but I keep changing my mind and reworking it so it doesn’t involve the incest themes—though doing so takes away some of the initial inspiration and motivation to actually write it. I’m kinda scared to delve into it in the story, though I really think it could be compelling, and in general, even though it’s something that I really enjoy reading. The story itself is set in a historical period where I think incest narratives can fit more ‘appropriately’ (sorta, if that makes sense?), and it wouldn’t be forced upon the reader character. But then I worry I’m romanticizing it since I envision it being a loving, somewhat healthy (if fraught) relationship.

I’m sorry if that’s rambling, but do you have any advice? How you go about writing your incest fics, the thought process behind them, or how you go about posting them? You’re the only writer I follow that writes stuff like this. And you do it in such a nuanced and romantic way (when the story calls for it). I know the story I wanna write, but I guess I’m hesitant based on the taboo nature of the topic (even though I haven’t shied away from other darker topics in previous works). I would really appreciate your thoughts on the subject.

okay first of all, THANK YOU for this very sweet compliment, i take it very seriously.

I very much relate to your struggle because I have a massive wip that explores similar themes and I worry sometimes that my attempt to explain why incest happens (in an admittedly fictionalized and fantastical way) will be confused for an attempt to justify that incest happens. but my stories are not about morality. they're about feelings.

personally I think the term "romanticize" has basically lost all meaning at this point. if you talk about anything negative suddenly you're romanticizing it, in some people's minds.

I always think about a scene in "fast times at ridgemont high," one of the first scenes, where a high school aged girl loses her virginity in an abandoned baseball dugout to an adult man who is a bit pushy and creepy. it's sick and awkward and makes your skin crawl, and they play a cheesy romantic ballad over the whole thing. there's an argument to be made that the filmmakers romanticized a clearly inappropriate and less than ethical encounter, but I always interpreted it as a way of showing how the main character herself was romanticizing it. as adults we look back and see how disturbing that is but she's been manipulated by a predatory culture to think this is some romantic, sensual experience.

I have a similar approach in my writing. I don't really make anything romantic, but the characters themselves might do so.

one of the first novels I read as an adult, and one that I couldn't put down, was flowers in the attic. perhaps the most famous incest fiction of all time. and I think it similarly walks this line very well where we see how the characters are creating their own false narrative as a response to such deep trauma. and that book is very controversial so take this all with a grain of salt but, try to focus on what your characters are going through and present their story without prejudice or agenda. your goal is to make us understand them even if you may or may not want us to like them, agree with them, support them etc.

that was a massive info dump so I apologize but yeah I hope any of this was useful.

[lady-griffin]

I Became Engulfed by Desire...

This was a super cute episode and absolutely hilarious. Mary and Maria were the true MVPs of the episode. I loved that these two brilliant and accomplished ladies are absolute dumbasses when it comes to one specific dumbass.

Mary is just comedic gold. She is so goddamn funny and ridiculous. I love her so much.

I’m still laughing at this. Look at this desperate dork who just wants to be with her precious Lady Katarina. 

Maria was also pretty funny, but she was really more of the straight man to Mary being amazing.

Alan was also a great delight. His and Katarina’s scenes were very sweet and endearing and just made me smile. I mean really, how could anyone not smile or have their heart warmed by those two at the end.

ALSO LOOK HOW STUNNING KATARINA WAS!!!!

This episode in general had some stunning scenes. I particularly love this one image.

Beautiful.

Overall, I enjoyed the episode.

-

It is just filler episode, so I will admit a part of me wants to gets back to the actual plot and get to certain scenes. As I am a bit worried that some of favorite scenes will not get the full-attention they deserve.

And I get a bit more concerned when I notice that there is still a sleepover and possible gardening shears extra to be explored in the anime. Based off these images.

While I absolutely love the extra Manga Ch. 17.5 (it’s an absolute delight and just so adorable), I am curious and nervous to see how they will do everything that they have to do in the remaining time they have left.

Though, perhaps the anime isn’t going to adapt the whole Ch. 17.5 plot, but take the essential core of it for a future scene. Similarly, to how the anime adapted Alan’s extra chapter in Vol. 5 (LN) to the last scene of this episode.

I have confidence in the anime, but I’m still a bit nervous.

SPOILERS BELOW

Plot Heavy Future

The anime does have a decent amount to cover in the next four episodes.

Bully Accusation Scene Maria Disappearing Katarina learning about Black Magic/Nightmare Katarina confronting Raphael Infirmary Scene – Everyone upset/why they love Katarina Katarina Revisiting her old life Raphael’s backstory Confronting Raphael Raphael and Katarina talking on her farm Graduation Party

To be fair, some of these scenes won’t take that much time and some could be excluded or combined. But still, it’s a lot.

We’ll have to see how the Gardening Shears and Sleepover Scenes happen and when. But if we only had a choice between the two, I’d picked the former. I really do love Ch. 17. 5 with all my heart and would love to see it adapted into the anime.

Angst

I do hope the next four episodes will do justice for future events. I want my angst and I want it now.

I particularly want Ch. 18 to get so much attention and love from the anime.

It’s one of my favorite chapters. 

I love how everyone is thinking about how much they love Katarina while at the same time are at the horrific realization that Katarina might die and their helpless to stop it. I want that. Give me that angst and more.

I want to suffer.

Alan and Katarina 

If you ship Alan and Katarina, then this episode was a godsend. I personally really enjoyed these two here. 

I loved how the anime  included Alan’s extra POV chapter and Manga chapter from Vol.5 (LN). in this episode. It was well done. 

Their scenes were very sweet and romantic. 

There’s something I quite like about Alan and Katarina. I think it’s because their relationship is based in a genuine friendship.

Alan is really the only one I can see who would take his shoes off and join Katarina up in a tree. So, it’s just nice seeing them interact.

Also, Alan at this point, is the most normal one. And I think to a certain extent he brings that out in Katarina…particularly in this scene. Katarina was just a lovely, normal girl. It was nice.

It was lovely. Absolutely lovely.

Despite no one thinking of him being a real threat in the race for Katarina’s heart, due to him being oblivious of his own feelings, he’s made the most headway.

Also look at him blushing.

Alan x Katarina have certainly moved up in my rankings.

The colors and scenery of the last scene were really stunning. Just gorgeous.  

Katarina’s Desire

She just wants sweets and I love that. Also, she’s like legit eating the Witch’s house from Hansel and Gretel, so that was fun.

I know it’s not that kind of episode, but I would’ve also liked to see Katarina’s deepest desire – avoiding her doomed endings.

While the other characters (and sometimes the narration) believe there is nothing more to Katarina than what’s on the surface, we know that’s not true. Or at least not 100% true.

And I may be looking into this way more deeply than I should.

But since Katarina was essential to everyone else’s desire and she was actually in the book with them, that makes me wonder if Katarina wasn’t there – would they have been satisfied with a fictional Katarina?

Or would they be like Katarina and not be satisfied with their fictional sweets?

The Harem’s Desires

This might be controversial, but I didn’t think their desires for Katarina were honestly that bad as some people have made them out to be. When I had crushes, my ideal situations and fantasies were just as ridiculous and over the top.

That being said, they could’ve definitely improved on how they showed them with one simple fix.

Have Katarina blushing and eyes sparkling, more than what they showed in the episode. That would have easily worked – Katarina is a huge fan of romance. She is so into it (which is why it’s so hilarious she’s oblivious to what’s happening in her life).

I don’t think the desires were awful or even bad, but they were somewhat off-putting for me. And I did feel like they missed the mark.  

Geordo

All I can think about is the weird Matrix moves in his fantasy…what a fucking dork.

But at the core he wants to get married to Katarina and have her all to himself without anyone interrupting them (for one night)…which yeah, I get that. Every time he’s alone with Katarina for more than 3 minutes, Keith breaks down the door.

I have mixed feelings towards Geordo saying he likes the uncomfortable face of Katarina’s. On the one hand, we’re seeing that so-called sadistic side of Geordo that we keep hearing about but never really see. 

But still…bad Geordo. Very bad. I’m rooting for you, don’t make me regret it.

For me, that statement is a darker take on what Geordo’s desire are stated to be in The Light Novels.

There’s a difference between this –

And this- 

It’s the difference between a cabin in the woods vs. a cottage in the forest. Essentially the same concept, but the words make all the difference.

Changing that line from uncomfortable to embarrassed or flustered would’ve been a huge improvement. But there’s nothing we can do about that now and in the end, I did find the overall scene funny.

Though I feel like the anime is a bit of a let down when it comes to Geordo, so there is that. 

Keith

I liked Keith’s desire the least. Surprisingly enough, it really had nothing to do with the pseudo-incest.

It was just the most off-putting for me. I did not like the weird lip-licking thing he did… I wasn’t a fan at all.

Sophia

She’s very bold; I’ll give her that.

But also, poor Sophia. Katarina has no idea that Sophia (or the other gals) has any romantic intention towards her and just thinks it’s fully platonic

…because slamming your friend against a wall is super platonic Katarina…

Nicol

This one was probably the funniest fantasy to me. The sounds Nicol made when he was jumping around the city were so funny to me. It was like they were out of a video game.

Also, Nicol’s desire to be The Devilish Count means that either Katarina or Sophia (definitely Sophia) told him that Katarina sees him being similar to the Count. And I guess after he learned that, Nicol read the entire book series and wants to be that way for Katarina.

He wants to be confident around her and have the freedom (and no guilt) in romantically wooing her.

Which is nice, but also what a dork.

Also, Katarina’s dress in his fantasy is either the same as Katarina’s birthday dress, but in a different color. Or at the very least, very similar.

Possibly because Nicol got to dance with Katarina on her birthday and his fantasy did involve dancing with her. A nice bit of detail.

Mary’s reaction to his fantasy, was a gem among gems.

Alan

He wants to play a recital for Katarina. Which is just so touching. Seriously, Alan is killing me with his sweetness.

If I’m not mistaken, Katarina is wearing the same dress she wore to his recital during their summer break. So, it seems very likely he’s playing “Dedicated to You, My Beloved” to well his beloved.

I’m assuming there was more to his desire, but Mary shutting the book was hilarious.

Also, Alan got pretty damn close to his desire in the real world, so good on him.

-

I feel like it’s safe to say that Mary and Maria’s desire if they were amplified by the book, would be at the same level of everyone else’s’. 

Which is fun to imagine. Especially Mary’s desire for Katarina. 

Also, everyone realizing that not only did Mary and Maria sees their desire for Katarina, but Katarina experienced their desire was so funny. They all just stood up and left. A+ comedy.

The Study Session Growing

It was fun seeing everyone join in on Mary’s alone time with Katarina, one by one, and Mary’s frustration building up.

Evil Harem.

If we ever wanted to see the Harem as “evil,” this is not a bad reference point in terms of visuals.

 Raphael

I love the red herrings surrounding him. It appears he’s just falling for Katarina, which technically he is, but that’s just scratching the surface of what’s actually going on.

-

Overall, it was nice and cute episode and really funny and ridiculous.

We got a bit more of a look into the characters and their desires for Katarina, but really the main development was between Alan and Katarina. Who would’ve thought?

Oh, and Mary being the funniest character alive.

[hewwo-fwends]

you gonna be okay? - pjs + zcl (NCT)

hello. I wrote this to help myself out of a mental funk kinda ting, which is really depressing in itself, but it did help. I thought it would be a waste if no one saw it, ya know? it's a bit controversial. fun fact: I made a whole new account to post this so no one I know can find me here.

so um for context, both jisung and chenle are quite a bit older than me, and I'm over a year legal in my country. anyway. here we go yeehaw.

warnings: angst (⚠️⚠️TRIGGER WARNING⚠️⚠️ MENTIONS OF SH AND PANIC/ANXIETY ATTACKS), kinda smut (like a little bit of grinding and marking and tongue salsa), jisung has anxiety or smth idk, chenle misses jisung, ends with fluff and stuff it's kinda kyoot

word count: 4.4k

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

the recurrence of these emotions should have been the first warning sign. how he had felt this way so often over the past 3 years. maybe the first time he marked up his own body should have been the second warning sign. the numbness within him fading to a euphoric stinging sensation within seconds, then to guilt and anxiety. no one could know. then maybe the third warning sign would have been his growing dependency on things that kill you from the inside. drinking and smoking to feel anything but numb or anxious or like he wanted to be crushed under a car. but none of the above felt like warning signs to him, because between the worst lows and the happy period right after, he would forget anything happened. he would ignore it. he would tell himself it wasnt a big deal, and that no one should know. so no one did.

jisung was seen as the funny, nice friend in this way. he would listen to others' problems and help them as much as he could. he would give people his things to make them happy, not expecting to get anything back himself. he wouldn't try to make others laugh, but would feel proud when he did. people liked him in a casual way. he was a good guy, a kind guy. jisung thought that too sometimes, before he stopped himself. "don't get too into your own head." he would think. "show these people how nice you are. be the happy person that people like. that will make you happy all the time." clearly, that didn't always work. but, to fulfill his purpose, he ignored and forgot the times when he didn't live up to his happy persona. it didn't happen. he was happy. always happy. nothing but happy. and he prayed to any and all gods that he would never get caught out.

°•°•°•°•°•°•

"Jisung. Talk to me for a sec." Coach spoke from across the gym. Whilst still laughing about a joke with his friends, he jogged over to the coach, smiling brightly. "What's up with you today? You get enough sleep? You were all over the place. I swear I saw you trip over your own feet a couple times." Jisung's smile almost faltered, but he caught himself before it could.

"Ah, coach. You know me. I may have spent a little bit longer on Overwatch last night than usual but it's only because of this one guy that kept busting my nu- killstreak, man! I had to get him back or I wouldn't have slept at all!" Coach laughed at the teen's obvious rage thinking back to this other player and his tone softened.

"Yeah, yeah. I do get it. But don't let it happen again, alright? You're my star player and I'm counting on you for regionals. You won't let me down, right?"

"Sir, no, sir!" Jisung projected.

"You cheeky brat. Go on. Get outta here." the coach laughed as Jisung jogged back over to where his friends were joking and packing their bags.

"Hey, Sung. What was that about?" questioned Jeno, whilst spraying himself with deodorant and suffocating the rest of the group.

"Watch it, fuckface!" exclaimed Renjun, coughing up his organs.

"Oh, nothing. Just talking about regionals." Jisung replied after clearing his throat of Lynx Africa.

"Ahh, star player Jisung! But you were a bit slow today, huh? I might just steal your spot up the coach's ass, you get me?" Jaemin nudged Jisung, making the group laugh at the boy's teasing remark.

"Never in a million years, Na." Jisung shoved the boy before grabbing his bag and sidestepping away to avoid reprisal. The other boys followed this action and started walking towards the door, talking between each other.

"So, do y'all wanna get some food or something?" Haechan asked the group, hinting that he definitely did want to get some food. The group all murmured in agreement, apart from Jisung, who replied "Ah, I would love to but my mum wants me back for dinner with the family tonight."

"Aww momma's boy Jisungie. How cute." Jaemin teased before reaching to squeeze the youngest's cheeks. Jisung backed away, making sounds of fear whilst smiling at his friend's show of affection. Jaemin eventually backed off and Jisung rubbed his now red cheeks. He drifted to the back of the group walking through the school's empty corridors. A few seconds later, Chenle found his way next to him.

"Hey, are you gonna make it on the PlayStation tonight?" he asked excitedly.

"Ah, I don't know, man. Depends if my mum lets me." Jisung replied whilst rubbing the nape of his neck.

"What? But she didn't let you play last night! That's child cruelty, I swear!" his shrill voice rang through Jisung's ears, making him flinch to the side.

"Yeah. I know it sucks. But you guys are great without me, too! You'll be fine, man."Jisung reassured the loud boy. They continued to talk about the game that Jisung had missed the night before until the group reached a crossroads. They waved goodbye and Jisung split off from the group who were heading to a diner around the corner. As he walked down the pavement towards his house, he realised how dark it had gotten in only 10 minutes. It made sense as it was December, and he sighed as he looked at the expansive sky with greys and whites mixing with dark blue. As he approached his house, he noticed that the Christmas lights had been put up, white and orange fairy lights strung across the bushes outside and over the front door. He smiled to himself. As he stepped into the house, his fingers tingled from the contrast of the freezing winter air outside and the cozy central heating inside. "Mum?" Jisung shouted down the corridor whilst taking off his shoes and putting his bag on the floor.

"Hey, Sungie! How was school?" her voice appeared from the living room and Jisung walked towards it.

"Ah, same old, same old, you know?" he shrugged.

"Are you not hanging out with your friends today?" she asked as she paused her TV programme. She had been watching Rick and Morty and Jisung couldn't help but think how much she would fit in with his age group. The thought made him cringe.

"No. They were all tired and had to go home." He said whilst looking at the paused TV screen.

"Oh, well. I hope you don't mind but me and dad are going out tonight with some friends so do you mind making your own dinner? Your sister's staying at her friend's house so don't worry about her and your brother's in his room with his friend and they're doing their own thing." Jisung's mum explained. Jisung's face almost dropped but, once again, he caught himself and smiled.

"Of course, that's fine. I'll make myself some ramen. Have fun tonight!" he said as he walked out of the room and grabbed his bag.

"You too!" his mum spoke before the sound of the TV started playing again. Jisung jogged upstairs and down the corridor to his room before walking in and locking the door behind him, as was his routine. He sighed and dropped his bag on the floor, standing still by the door. Next in his routine was the sudden wave of cold that rushed over him, so much colder than the rest of the house. Then his lip would start quivering and he may have let out a whimper or two, before dropping onto his bed and sobbing with no tears, just the feeling of hopelessness running through his veins. His body curled in on itself and his hands clawed at his bedsheets as his face dug into his pillow. He would then rock back and forth for the next half an hour, chanting such phrases as "I wish I was dead" or "I'm horrible" or maybe "I hate this". What it was that he hated? He couldn't tell you. He just knew he didn't want to be there anymore. Or anywhere really. He would contemplate carving into himself like a Halloween pumpkin again but would always chicken out just before, remembering how tiring it was to hide it the first times. He didn't want to add anymore stuff to his plate. Also, his physical appearance needed to match his social appearance. No one could know what he was like on his own. It was his own little secret. However, he needed to feel something. So he would curl up on his floor, his head against his carpet, and scratch all down his arms, as hard as he could. The sensation made him feel something, and feeling something felt euphoric. After maybe managing to shed a few tears and falling asleep, he would wake up feeling drained and somewhat annoyed for not being able to see the scratches on his arms. But of course, he would then think of himself as an attention-whore, and make himself forget anything had happened. His day then continues from then with him being the happy social butterfly he was known to be. And the cycle would repeat.

°•°•°•°•°•°•

"Hey, you better come hang with us tonight. I feel like I hardly see you anymore!" Chenle spoke to Jisung in what he would call his "quiet voice". Luckily, they were in the canteen and there was hardly anyone around.

"You know I would love to, but I've got a lot of homework to do! Mr Suh is being a real bitch lately, you know?" Jisung spoke back as he played with the rice on his plate. School food really did nothing for his constant nausea.

"But you've been working so much lately! You've had to do homework almost every day after school for the past month! And before that, your mum needed you to come home for dinner every night! I miss you, Sungie." Chenle's typically loud and screeching voice fell at the last bit, and Jisung looked up at the boy through his fringe. What did he mean by "I miss you" when he was right there in front of him? He hadn't gone anywhere.

"What do you mean "you miss me"? I'm right here, Lele." Jisung almost reached his hand out for Chenle's on the other side of the table, but ended up deciding against it and just leaning forwards slightly.

"But you're not though. I only see you in school now. And you hardly talk to me anymore. You used to tell me about stuff that's going on in your life. Now I have to talk to you first to get you to notice to me." Jisung's eyes began to get hot as he looked down at the table. He could feel his heartbeat in his stomach and his muscles begin to twitch. This wasn't good. "Do you even like me anymore? I thought you were my best friend, Jisung. What's happened to you?" Chenle's voice held an apprehensive and somewhat emotional tone. Jisung couldn't breathe. He needed to get out of there.

"I've gotta go." he rushed out his words in a hushed tone to stop his tears from falling, whilst pushing up from his seat and speeding out of the canteen as fast as possible without running. His eyes stayed trained on the ground and the tears welling up made him feel like he was about to throw up. He pushed open the door to a toilet block he knew no one would be in before rushing into a cubicle and locking the door behind him. He broke.

His sobs rang against the walls of the cubicle, no matter how much he tried to repress them. He slapped his hand over his mouth in attempt to quieten himself, and his tears fell like torrential rain, down his face, his hands and to the floor. His back slid down the wall of the cubicle until he was curled up on the floor in a puddle of his own trembling limbs and tears. He stayed in that state for 5 more minutes, neither his tears nor his emotions subsiding. Then, he heard the door of the toilet block crash open, promptly followed by a shout of "Jisung?". Chenle.

Jisung's eyes clenched shut so tightly that he was seeing stars, his nails now digging into his cheeks with how tightly he was covering his mouth. The tears didn't stop but at least they didn't make any noise. "Jisung. I know you're there. I won't break down the door. Just let me in." Chenle's voice turned softer, but now with an added hint of concern. Jisung dreaded to think that Chenle was concerned about him. He tried to stop the tears so he could face his friend, but they wouldn't stop, and he couldn't even move. He felt trapped where he was. His body had given up. "I'm not going anywhere, Jisung. I promise."  Chenle's voice sounded close, like his head was against the other side of the door. Hearing him say that somehow made Jisung break even further. He didn't know that was possible. His sobs could suddenly be heard again even through his hands tight grasp on his face. "Jisung?" Chenle's voice sounded panicked now. He didn't want to do that to him. He needed to let him know he was there, even like this.

"Chenle-" he rasped out between sobs. His voice clearly sounded tired and weak, with a hint of desperation.

"Please, open the door, Sungie." Jisung sobbed harder, feeling incapable of moving whatsoever, but his best friend's distress gave him an ounce of motivation, but not without added guilt and shame. He hid his head in his arm against his knees and blindly reached for the lock on the door. He felt it unlock and immediately curled his other hand around himself, hoping to not be seen. Of course, that didn't happen. He heard a gasp from above and then felt the brush of air against his arm as his friend dropped down next to him. His sobs had still not stopped and he felt the smallest he had ever felt in his life right at this moment, curled up on the toilet floor next to his best friend. He didn't know what he had expected to happen, but it certainly wasn't the warm feeling of his friends arms wrapping around him, and the warmth of his breath against his neck. They didn't usually do that with each other. This only spurred on more tears, but slightly fuzzier ones. With some sensation back in his body, he twisted his hand upwards to hold onto his friend's arm, a small message to the other boy in an attempt to translate how grateful he is to him and that he's the best friend anyone could ever wish for. It may have not translated that whole message, but he hoped that it got pretty close.

"You're gonna be okay, Sungie." Chenle spoke into the crying boy's neck. The warmth tickled him and caused a hot shiver to run across his spine. Wait. Was he blushing? In shock about having just blushed at the actions of his best friend, he managed to lift his head up and open his eyes. His sight was blurred but he could see the wavy outline of his small friend through his unrelenting tears. He could feel hands upon his cheeks as they turned his face towards him to wipe at the tears under his eyes with the soft pads of his thumbs. He hoped so much that his face was red enough from crying to cover up the ever-growing blush that adorned his cheeks. He bit his lip and looked down in embarrassment, but Chenle didn't allow it. With his hands still resting on his cheeks, he lifted his head back up and pressed his forehead against the others. Out of surprise, Jisung's right hand shot up to hold onto the other's elbow, before sliding up to his hand against his cheek instead. He rested his hand on top of Chenle's and leant into it slightly, enjoying the feeling way too much than he should have felt okay with. His eyes fell shut again as he released a sigh that fluttered against Chenle's cheeks. They sat there, sharing each other's space, for what felt like years. Jisung wished the feeling would never stop. But as long as Chenle was with him, he felt like it never would.

After his tears had slowed and his breathing had evened out, Jisung felt Chenle's hand slide away from his face. He felt himself almost starting to cry yet again, before Chenle's fingers slid between his own and his thumb started rubbing his hand. Chenle's head pulled away from Jisung's and tilted against the wall they were both leaning against instead. "Is this okay?" Chenle asked in a genuinely hushed and soothing voice, one that Jisung didn't know he was capable of. He couldn't tell what Chenle was referring to until he squeezed Jisung's hand ever so slightly and Jisung blushed yet again.

"Yeah. It's fine." the corners of his mouth tilted ever so slightly before he realised and stopped himself. But Chenle didn't even try to stop himself. He had already noticed Jisung's mistake and smiled back widely himself. This only made Jisung feel shy and bashfully smile at the floor.

"Your smile is so pretty." Chenle stated, as if it was the most obvious fact in the galaxy. Jisung's eyes shot up to the other boy's face, who was now giggling at Jisung's reaction. Jisung quickly looked back down to the floor as he felt the flustered feeling spread all over his head.

As Chenle's giggles quietened down, Jisung tilted his head against the wall, before realising just how close their faces were. He could feel Chenle's breath against his lips. He felt an involuntary sound creeping up his throat, but swallowed hard to keep it down. "Are you feeling any better?" Chenle spoke in a deep voice, quiet and gentle on Jisung's currently sensitive ears.

"I do feel better right now." Jisung responded, his voice still weak and raspy.

"Right now?" Chenle's eyebrows curled in confusion. "Why right now?"

Jisung couldn't stop the words from coming out. "Because you're here." His eyes widened the second after he let it slip from his lips, having shocked himself with the obvious "line". He didn't know how to repair that. So he just stayed silent, red in the face and frozen. He only barely noticed Chenle's small smile before he registered that they were somehow even closer to one another. He felt their noses brush together and this time, he didn't think fast enough to stop the involuntary sound falling off his lips. A hushed whimper spilled into the shared breathing space between them. Chenle's head was back where it was before, pressed against Jisung's, and Jisung couldn't stop himself from glancing down at his best friend's lips. His best friend, he thought. This was not normal, and he knew it. But he didn't care. It felt so much better than anything he had ever done before. So much more natural. He wanted this. So bad.

His mouth was slightly open, trying to maximise his air intake as the air around him suddenly got so hot.

"Can I?" He felt Chenle's breath against his tongue, and his nose brushed against Jisung's once more.

"Please." It came out much more whiny than he had expected, but he wasn't even ashamed anymore as his best friend's lips melted into his own, their synchronisation making Jisung feel like he had been missing this his whole life. Chenle. Just Chenle. They seemed to fall into a trance as the taste and feeling of one another became addictive. Jisung only realised what was happening when he felt a hand sliding up his arm and towards his neck, the thumb rubbing against his jugular. Another hand had slid up his leg and was squeezing his thigh. Jisung couldn't help but grab onto the front of Chenle's shirt and pull his body even closer as he released yet another whimpering noise. That was a cue for Chenle to lick at Jisung's bottom lip, subtly asking for permission to take this further. It wasn't even a question for Jisung. He let his mouth fall open and Chenle was immediately there, lapping at the other's tongue with his own. The feeling made Chenle groan slightly, and Jisung's fist clenched tighter on his shirt in response, another whimper falling from his occupied lips. He felt breathless in the best way, so didn't even attempt to pull away to breathe. He didn't want to stop and could tell that neither did Chenle.

A few minutes later, Chenle had explored Jisung's entire mouth and wanted to find out some more about the boy, so his hands fell to his hips and pulled slightly, inviting Jisung to come closer. Jisung took this offer with delight, climbing onto the other's lap and leaning back onto the other's knees as Chenle slid his back further up the wall for a more comfortable position. They both quickly found each other's lips again and got right back into the flow of the situation. Chenle's hands had drifted from Jisung's tiny waist to his hips, just above his ass that was sat in a place that he didn't want to dwell too much on, though he found that to be extremely difficult with how fidgety Jisung could be. Jisung's hands found purchase against Chenle's chest again, occasionally grasping at his shirt when he felt to overwhelmed, so the entire time really.

After a few more minutes, Chenle leaned his head back against the wall, looking up at Jisung with so much adoration. Jisung felt hot under his stare and missed the feeling of his lips.

"You're so hot, baby." Chenle spoke in his low voice, like he was talking to himself. Jisung whined and leaned in, hoping to find Chenle's lips again, only to be stopped by the feeling of a hand around the base of his neck, not holding him, just applying light pressure, enough to stop him in his tracks and make him roll his hips. The feeling made his head fall back and he accidentally released a moan. He felt embarrassed, but also really, really hot. He heard a growl from below him but before he could look back down, he felt Chenle's hot mouth against his neck, right next to his jugular. His teeth bit into the skin and his mouth sucked around the mark, making Jisung involuntarily move his hips faster against Chenle's torso, looking for any friction whatsoever. Like Chenle was reading his mind, he ground his hips upwards into Jisung's own, right as he bit into the other side of his neck. "Fuck!" Jisung exclaimed, the breath being knocked out of his lungs at the sensation.

"Close already?" Chenle teased. Jisung suddenly realised how weird it was to hear that from his best friend. The best friend he would play games with as a child. the best friend he would talk about girls with in his early teen years. The best friend he would vent to when he was stressed, and who would do the same back. The best friend he had talked about getting a house with in the future, somewhere in a big city. The best friend that was now making him feel so fucking good on the floor of the school toilets when they're both supposed to be in lessons. The best friend he wants to scream the name of for the rest of his life, disturbing the neighbours and almost getting kicked out of several apartments. He's not even mad.

°•°•°•°•°•°•

Them walking out of that toilet block must have been the most comedic moment in either of their lives. To set the scene, they both styled matching red faces and disheveled hair, with Chenle rocking a creased shirt and Jisung showing off his abundance of blossoming purple and red bite marks, trailing all over his jaw and neck and deep down into his collar line and, to top it all off, their non-chalant "we did not just fuck I swear" facial expressions. Glancing up and down the corridor to avoid any other unsuspecting students, they made a bee-line for Chenle's locker where he knew he kept a hoodie to hide Jisung's Vincent Van Gogh "Starry Night"-lookin' neck. The only problem was that it was on the other side of the school.

Why Jisung decided to come instead of waiting, Chenle didn't know. He just thought he was too cute and didn't really want to leave him alone either. But luckily, it was still lesson time, so there was hardly anyone in the halls. So there they were, running through the halls Breakfast Club-style, dodging teachers and the odd student, until they reached Chenle's locker. He made quick work of opening it and grabbing the hoodie, buried underneath about 5 textbooks, 3 folders and a bag of snacks. "You're a mess." Jisung joked.

"Look, do you want the hoodie or not?" Chenle reiterated, his eyes wide as if he were scolding a child.

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry!" Jisung giggled, taking the hoodie from Chenle's hands. Chenle jabbed quickly at Jisung's stomach, making him bend over and jump backwards dramatically. He pulled the hoodie over himself, surprised that it was kind of big on him.

"Not as big as you thought you were, huh?" Chenle quirked his eyebrow and Jisung blushed, once again, at his remark. He pulled up the hood and tugged the strings tight around his head, making Chenle coo at him. "You baby." And Jisung swore he could somehow hear the star emojis and "uwu" emoticon in his voice. Chenle walked closer to him, holding his sweater paws and then looking around to make sure no one was there. He then leaned in to quickly steal another kiss, lingering too long for it to be classed as a peck. "What lesson have you got now?" Chenle asked, still holding Jisung's sweater paws, now leaning against the lockers.

"I think Chemistry?" Jisung puffed out his cheeks in thought. Chenle was enamored.

"You okay to go? I can stay with you if you want me to." Chenle reasoned. Jisung's eyes dropped to the ground as he smiled.

"I'm definitely feeling better right now. I might even learn something in Chem." Jisung chuckled.

"Wouldn't that be a miracle." Chenle smiled. The other then pushed his shoulder lightly, making him giggle.

"I'm gonna miss you." Jisung mumbled towards his feet. Chenle leaned in further, smiling.

"That's cheesy and disgusting but you're cute so I'm gonna miss you too." He punctuated his statement with a kiss on the other's lips. Followed by another one. Then another. And another. They were both really lost in each other. And they didn't want to be anything else.

[locked-behind-the-walls]

Reviews of Some Nova’s Fics

I have been on the (non-fiction) writing kick as of recently, which finally lead to me writing some fic reviews. I've been planning to start writing reviews for B7 fic for a long time, but those plans mostly involved some highbrow "New Wave" gen in the vein of the stories published in The Aquitar Files. Of course, this means that when I did write some reviews, they were about the stories of the classic slashfic author beloved by the fandom. :D

Why Nova? While I like her, she's far from being my favorite B7 author, in slash or in all the fic. I think she's just easy to write about, for me at least - there are a lot of things that I like about her, and a lot of things that frustrate me, and they often are in the same story. Her writing has a lot of clearly discernible patterns and tropes, and I find it much easier to write about them than about the subtleties and nuances of relationships between the characters; I may say that while I like reading both gen and shippy fics of all types, I may tend to write about even the shippy fics in the same way I write about gen. I also probably tend to "accentuate the negative", not because my feelings about this author are mostly negative, but because I find it easier - and more entertaining - to write about the things I dislike than about the things I like.

Let's start? Be warned, those reviews contain spoilers and discussions of heavy subjects. The fics I read and reviewed here: Delinquent, Avon at the Window, Five Easy Pieces and a More Difficult One, Town Mouse, Country Mouse, Love Means Never Having to Say You're Sorry, Before and After, Why I Can't Stand Vila Restal, Prime Suspect, Time and Fevers, Outlaws and In-Laws.

Delinquent

This was the first Nova's fic that I read and one of my favorite ones so far. It has some problems - while I like good boy/bad boy pairs, I think she sometimes tries too hard to shove Blake and Avon into these roles; the way Avon regains his rebelliousness after getting together with Blake felt too abrupt, almost comically so (I know that Magical Healing Cock is a thing; perhaps we should come up with the B7-specific version, Magical Class-Consciousness Rising Cock); and, of course, "undesirable associates" gets repeated ad nauseum. But I just find the idea of Avon being Blake's childhood hero so adorable, and it's for sure one of the most original takes on "they knew each other pre-canon" trope in this fandom. It's interesting to review it after reading other Nova's fics - now I can clearly discern some tropes and headcanons she used in many other fics, e.g. exploring characters' backstories, accentuated differences in Blake's and Avon's upbringing, love restoring the fighting spirit in characters and so on.

Five Easy Pieces and a More Difficult One

I... frankly don't remember that well the more psychological parts of this one, even though I read it not so long ago. What I remember well is all that sex and the bit with the uprising, which sums up my priorities quite accurately. (The sex was damn good. And so was the uprising.) In my defense I must say that it's one of those "faux-casual sex turns into emotional commitment" fics, so sex and romance are interwoven very closely here, even by the fanfiction standards. It's also quite trope-heavy, going through several slash cliches, and as someone who's not a fan of many slash cliches I can say that it's done in pleasantly non-cringy way (except the first part, which was somewhat cringy. I think nothing can redeem Visiting a Gay Planet and Trying to Fit In for me, except maybe outright parodies).

Town Mouse, Country Mouse

Another story about Blake's and Avon's very different upbringings, the one that probably got the most stylized, most deliberate and most extreme about emphasizing these differences. I found the sordidness too sordid and the cutesiness too cutesy, but it was probably the point.

Love Means Never Having to Say You're Sorry

Oh right. One of my least favorite tropes of all times is using other people as cannon fodder to showcase your Great Romance, and this fic is this trope in spades. Nova clearly likes it - she uses it in several fics, sometimes with several people. That's where we would't agree, I guess. Avon killing himself is another thing which we would't agree on. I get it that Avon have seen (and done) some shit, but the only case in which I can imagine him killing himself is, ironically, if he shared Blake's idealism - it would make such a hellish mix with his personality that it might get just too difficult to bear. This one is not the major point of disagreement and I think can be written convincingly, but here it just comes off as too dramatic. I liked the Vila voice, though, it was pleasant to read and created interesting interplay with the grim backstory and not exactly sunny main story.

Before and After

The only thing I liked about this fic is that Avon got put against the wall for killing Blake. (This review will surely gain me a lot of friends in the fandom.) It was bold and quite cathartic. But of course, here it was because he wanted it - he's too cool to just be shot, apparently. I can also add half a point for the homophobia thing - I don't mind exploring this subject matter in slash, and don't even mind portraying main characters as homophobic, it could be done in an interesting and nuanced manner, but here I felt like it was only somewhat interesting, but mostly felt forced and just made them too unsympathetic. Apart from that, it's just way too similar to Love Means Never Having to Say You're Sorry, except now Deva is also dragged into the Not As Good As performance.

Avon at the Window

Ouch. I guess we are supposed to read this one in non-quite-serious, kinky way, because otherwise the situation described here becomes just way too appalling and overshadows any enjoyment one could derive from characters getting together. On the other hand, at least here Avon's Horrible Past is not as jarring as in Outlaws and In-Laws, because this fic is much more angstier and here it's more a center of the story. Nova is very unsubtle at laying out the angst here, crude even - and effective, considering that from all her fics, I remember this one the most and it provoked the strongest emotional response. It's a controversial trope, and I'm not a fan of how she engages with it, but in its own way, it worked.

What I dislike, however, is that Blake is basically mischaracterized for the sake of angst. I can see him to be uncomfortable with prostitution, but I can't see him react in such over-the-top judgemental and aggressive manner. I think it would be more realistic - and more interesting - if he tried to be understanding, but was making such poor job of it, being so clearly not okay with the whole situation despite trying to be, and it eventually lead to falling out between them. I believe he at least would bother to learn more about it and would knew how old Avon was at that time! And then I would be able to buy his more bitter and aggressive behavior PGP because well, Avon shot him, he has the right to be upset, and besides he did seem more bitter and aggressive in general in the last episode. As I said, Nova is very unsubtle here and sometimes it hurts the quality of the fic. Also, while treating domes and space stations as ordinary cities under the open sky is a very common trope in Blake's 7 fanfiction, it also one of my least favorite ones and here it's truly egregious in the bits set in the Space City.

The part I liked the most is the one where they are discussing the book about the prostitution. Nova can be very good in sociopolitical stuff, and those ARE the themes where I wouldn't mind her to be unsubtle, but alas, there is too little of it in this fic.

Why I Can't Stand Vila Restal

At this point it started to read like several other fics, some of them Nova's and some of them not. I don't have much to say about this story - it's easy to read and the sex is good, but there is just nothing new about it. Also, Blake is too paternalistic in this one, which can be done well but I just don't dig it, especially in sex scenes.

Prime Suspect

Another fic that I mostly forgot soon after reading. Blake playing detective was fun, and the resolution was deliciously wacky - but what I love about Nova is that she's not afraid of wackiness. Orac bashing is probably the only sort of character bashing I can stand, and no, that's not because it's not alive, it's because it's such an asshole. (I like Orac anyway).

Time and Fevers

Other characters are dragged into Blake's and Avon's love lives to make a point about their love - again! Deva, this time, and Jenna, somewhat, and while I like Blake/Deva, but definitely not like this. At least some time is given to explore their relationship, though not much. I would have preferred if Jenna either got a larger role or wasn't mentioned at all - as it stands now, it's just too creepy. Did she also die? I think we just are not supposed to care. :(

I liked quite a lot of things about this fic. I have a weakness for the washed out, beaten down Blake, and this fic portrays him rather well. Characters are older than usual in this story, and it is also handled well. The theme of love giving you back your mojo is developed better than in Delinquent, even though it involves unfavorable comparisons with other relationship (but not explicitly so, thankfully). The angst is good and not overdramatic, but rather more muted and melancholic, which goes better with Blake's 7 fics. The stuff about sexual histories of the character was, like almost always in Nova's fics, one of the strongest points. However, some bits gave off the vibe that was too romcom-y, especially Dayna and Soolin acting like matchmakers - it's just so not my thing.

Outlaws and In-Laws

One of my favorite Nova's fics and so quintessentially her - very good and hot mess at the same time. It has a lot of themes which I like and most of which Nova generally does well: explorations of characters' pasts and their sexual histories; political themes, including sexual politics; quite a lot of worldbuilding and interesting original characters. That first time is one of my favorite ones, the sex is original, hot and not unrealistic at the same time. Even the cheesier parts didn't feel that bad (or maybe my love of the Gothic genre helped me to get through them). However, the mood of the first and the second part of the fic was just way too different, which again might have been the point, but I don't think that it works that well there. I agree with Aralias' review that Blake is too damn passive in the second part, and this that just felt like him abandoning Avon. I think it contributes to the sudden drop of temperature in the story, figuratively speaking. I also wish we spent more time with Blake's mom - she seemed like a fascinating character, and yet most of her arc was spent on wackiness and being an obstacle.

So, those are my reviews of Nova so far. Maybe I'll write more in the future after reading more fics, or maybe not. Of course, all those fics are also well-written, and easy to read, and have good characterizations, but other people already wrote about it. At this point I can describe Nova as an author who sticks strongly and noticeably to the tropes and headcanons that she likes, and some of them I like too, while others not so much. Her fics also have a lot of mood whiplash, some of which probably wasn't intended as such. I also got the impression that she's better in more lighthearted stories than in straightforward angst.

[hopeworldfan]

good things come in threes (2)

summary: you had a unique relationship with hyuna and hyojong, one that gets even more complicated when min yoongi gets involved.

pairing: yoongi/reader, hyuna/reader/hyojong

word count: 2k

rating: 18+

genre: fluff, smut, angst, idolverse, idol!reader

warning: sexting, yoongi pops a boner, implied masturbation 

Beads of sweat were cascading down the side of your face and your muscles were screaming in protest with every move you made. You didn’t stop though, you couldn’t stop. The choreography had to be second nature to you, to come as easy as breathing when you were on stage. No matter what happened, what distraction there might be, what complication might occur, your performance couldn’t falter for a single second. You always had to give your fans your absolute best, no exceptions.

“We can take a break (y/n).” Your choreographer, Taewon, offered with a knowing smile.

He already knew what your answer would be, what it always was. “Nonsense. Let’s run it again.”

Your heart was pounding as the music started again. Sparing a glance at the mirror in front of you, you noted how much of a mess you looked. It had been three hours since you stepped foot in the dance studio and your messy appearance attested to that.

Despite your somewhat laidback, uncaring persona in the public eye, you cared a lot. The persona was a carefully crafted one that worked wonders for you. The controversial queen, multiple tattoos, sultry outfits, lyrics littered with profanity, and a very empowered attitude in general. You were the ‘darker’ version of Hyuna in a sense, and that came into play in your collaborations. She was the light to your dark, the sun to your moon, and people ate it up.

Your legs were shaking by the time you finished the song and it took all of your willpower not to collapse on the ground. Just in time, Minsun strolled in. “Good news (y/n)!”

“I love good news.” You sighed, plopping down on the floor and gratefully taking the water bottle Taewon handed you.

“You’re collaborating with Suga, just one song, for now, BigHit wants to test the waters before committing to more.”  

You froze, the bottle of water just touching your lips. “Are you serious?”

“Of course, I am.” Your manager sniffed. “You can thank me at any time.”

In the next beat, you were on your feet, your arms wrapped around the taller woman.

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you.” You chanted, a wide smile on your face.

“Oh gross! You’re getting sweat all over my suit!” She protested, trying to shove your sweaty form off.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.” You teased and she just huffed in annoyance, but you released her, finally chugging the bottle of water. “So, what are the details.”

“The two of you have free reign on the song. We want it released before the start of your tour, something to kick it off with a bang. Since your first performance is right here in Seoul and it’s being filmed, you’re going to bring Suga out for the song. It’s a secret though, very under wraps.”

You nodded thoughtfully. Your tour kicked off in three months, you’d written songs within a much shorter time span. “This is going to be so much fun.”

Minsun’s face morphed into something more serious and your stomach dropped. Uh oh, that expression never meant anything good. “Listen (y/n), the Bangtan boys have a much cleaner image to uphold than yourself. The BigHit executives have voiced…concerns about your relationship with Hyuna and E’Dawn. If it were to be revealed while you were working with Suga, it could have a backlash on them, and they don’t want that. If there is any whiff of the three of you, they’ll pull out of the collaboration without a second thought.”

Annoyance coursed through you. Everything always came down to your relationship –not relationship- with Hyuna and Hyojong. It’s not like the three of you were doing anything wrong. You were all adults, it was completely consensual, why did it have to be some big thing? Why did society have to consider it taboo? Why did it have to affect your career?

“I get it Minsun.” You breathed and she sighed.

“Look, you know I don’t understand what you have with them, but maybe some time away would do you good.” She was only trying to help, you knew that, so you ignored the flare of irritation at her suggestion.

“I’ll be careful.” You promised before turning and getting back into position. “I need to get back to practice.”

A week later and you were finally meeting with Suga. The two of you had agreed to just meet in his studio since that was the most logical place for what the two of you were doing. You were so excited, you’d been a fan of his work for so long, really connecting to the emotion he injected into his lyrics. This was your dream collaboration.

“Wah! (Y/N)?! What is (Y/N) doing at our dorm?!” A panicked voice exclaimed when you strolled into the dorms, security having let you in.

“What are you talking about-oh my god!”

“What’s the commotion?”

You just giggled at the scene playing out in front of you. It was Jungkook who screamed first, and he was still staring at you like you had sprouted an extra head. V was next, having looked up from his position on the couch to also gawk at you. Namjoon was the last one, walking into the room at the boy’s exclamations. The three of them were just staring at you so you hesitantly raised a hand in greeting. “Uhh, hi? I’m here to see Suga.”

“Oh!” Namjoon exclaimed with wide eyes. “Yes! We knew that! We totally knew that. I’ll go get him!”

He was gone before you could reply, and you were left awkwardly standing there. Jungkook and V looked to be arguing about something before the younger of the two finally approached you. “Hi, um, I know we’ve technically met before, but, uh, I just wanted to say that I’m a huge fan.”

“Thank you! I’m a huge fan of you too!” You smiled and his eyes shot up to meet yours.

“Really?”

“Of course! Euphoria is a gorgeous song, I listen to it a lot.” A blush crept up to your cheeks at your confession and you noticed a similar thing happening to the boy in front of you.

“I! Uh, I’m a huge fan too (y/n)!” V shouted, scrambling to stand next to Jungkook.

“Your solo track is also amazing V; your voice is so comforting I adore it.” His cheeks flushed a light pink at the compliment. They were both so adorable. You loved seeing the contrast from the sensual guys you had watched on stage to the shy guys standing in front of you.

“If the two of you are done harassing (y/n), we have work to do.” A different voice commented and the two boys in front of you paled.

“We’re not harassing her, Hyung!” Jungkook protested.

“We were just talking!” V defended and you couldn’t help but giggle at the display. The dynamic was hilarious, both boys were larger than Suga, but it was obvious they deferred to him.  

“It’s true, we were just chatting.” You chimed in with a kind smile and his eyes flitted to you. Your gaze only met for a moment before he looked away, his expression unreadable. Panic shot through. What he saw at MAMA had been on your mind since that night. Sure, he didn’t have any concrete proof about what happened, but you knew that he knew and if he let anything slip, the paparazzi would run with it. However, there hadn’t been a single whiff of it.

“You can follow me to my studio.” He said and you obliged immediately, waving goodbye to V and Jungkook.

What if he asked you about it? You had to lie, there was no way you could just tell the truth, that was too dangerous. Not that you thought Suga was a shady person, but you only knew him from what he showed the world, that wasn’t always the real deal.

“I’m really excited to work with you Suga, I’ve admired you for a while now.” You said honestly as the two of you walked into the studio.  

“Ahh, thank you,” He said somewhat shyly, and you noticed the slight reddening of his cheeks. “And you can call me Yoongi.”

Cute.

“Alright, Yoongi.” You grinned, setting your backpack down and taking a seat on the couch. Maybe his personality was just more reserved, and he wasn’t treating you differently because of what he saw. “So, do you have any ideas for the song, I have a few WIP’s that we could pull from, but I haven’t been able to come up with a fitting theme.”

Yoongi took a seat in front of his keyboard, facing you and putting a hand up to his face. He looked more confident than he had ten seconds ago, and you had to will yourself to keep your mind from wandering. He was an extremely attractive male, but you’re constantly surrounded by attractive males that didn’t make you feel the way you were feeling.

It had been so long since you’d felt real desire for anyone but Hyuna and Hyojong. Even with Hui, he was attractive, and you had a lot of fun, but the thought of him didn’t particularly excite you though. Yoongi though, he excited you, and you’d only been in the same room for five minutes.

“I think the most logical thing would be a darker themed song, it would fit both of our images. I uhh, I started working on something when I was told about the collaboration.”  

Time flew by while the two of you worked. Yoongi was a genius, there wasn’t a single doubt left in your mind. The two of you would be done the song in no time at the pace you were getting things out. You worked so well together, any time one of you got stuck the other jumped in immediately with a solution. In all your years as an idol, you had never felt such a creative connection with someone.

“I’ll be right back.” You smiled, jumping up to take a bathroom break.

Yoongi watched you go with a look that could only be described as in awe. He’d wanted to collaborate with you for so long, ever since the first time he heard your voice. There was just something so poignant about it, something that drew him in. He told himself how breathtakingly beautiful you were had nothing to do with it. Even today, you were dressed so simply, sweatpants and a t-shirt, hair in a messy bun, a black face mask and not a trace of makeup, and he thought you looked gorgeous.  

The only problem he was having was that he couldn’t look at you without picturing how you looked that night at MAMA. You had obviously just been having sex, there was no doubt in his mind. Everything about you was screaming it, the hickeys on your neck, your still blown pupils, your swollen lips, your inside out shirt. You had still looked so fucked out and holy fuck Yoongi couldn’t help but wish that it was because of him.

A buzzing noise drew his attention to the couch, and he noticed you had left your phone when you want to the bathroom. Curiosity got the better of him and he leaned forward, seeing that not only did you leave your phone unlocked, but open to a message thread.

His eyes grew to the size of dinner plates when he saw the picture, and the message attached to it. Your face wasn’t in the picture, and neither was the girl’s whose pussy you were eating, or the guy’s who was fucking you from behind, the one holding the camera. So, he couldn’t be positive it was you, but he was pretty positive it was you. The girl had the same shoulder tattoo and that was your current hair color.

It was the attached message that really solidified it.

we didn’t get enough of you noona, come play

Yoongi wasn’t oblivious to the rumors surrounding you, the whispers about your relationship with Hyuna and E’Dawn. He knew that’s whose dressing room you were rushing out of when you ran into him, but seeing the picture, seeing the proof, Yoongi felt his pants tightening. Fuck.

He whirled around when you strolled back into the studio. “Sorry I took so long, I may have gotten a tad bit lost.”

“It’s cool.” He replied nervously and you tilted your head in confusion before plopping back down on the couch and grabbing your phone. He watched you out of the corner of his eyes as you scanned the message, he noticed the way your lips parted slightly and your tongue shot out to wet your bottom lips, he noticed the way you squeezed your thighs together.

“Do you mind if we put a pause on things for the night? We’ve made a lot of progress.” You asked and Yoongi kept his back towards you, unable to kill his growing erection. Holy shit. You were going to go, that’s where you’d be headed when you left.

“Yeah that’s cool, I’ll stay here and just add a few tweaks.”  

“Alright! I really enjoyed working with you today, I’ll be in contact!” You grinned, grabbing your stuff and bouncing out. His eyes followed your form, getting up and locking the door the minute you were out of sight.

[damtoti]

Ask Meme

I spent so much time formatting and writing this and it disappeared when I tried to post :’( Should have copy-pasted it somewhere just in case, especially since you were having issues too. But like an idiot I forgot.

Anyways, thanks for the ask! @snowywolff​

re: this thing

Fandom: Hetalia

Favorite character: North and South Italy, slightly leaning South Italy

Least Favorite character: None really, there are some that I’m less interested in, but in most cases I change my mind about them depending on the way they’re written

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): Prumano, Germano, Itacest, 

Character I find most attractive: Turkey, actually, even though I never write him. Germany and/or Prussia close seconds.

Character I would marry: Maybe Prussia? Otherwise no offense but none of them, lol

Character I would be best friends with: Canada

a random thought: my opinions have changed soooooo much from when i first got into hetalia

An unpopular opinion: Idk if it’s really unpopular, but I guess I’ll go with Vene not being incompetent. I suddenly forget all my controversial opinions when it’s time to talk about them, lol

My Canon OTP: ...Romano and his trash

My Non-canon OTP: Prumano

Most Badass Character: I’m sure all of them at some point in time

Most Epic Villain: Vene, because he’s just so much fun to write. Runner-up is America, who I imagine has a very black/white worldview, and justifies his own shittiness with at least being better than The Villain, but in many cases he has to create a villain or exaggerate villain’s crimes in order to stay in the moral highground. And I know Russia is very overused, but I still like the idea of him getting people to do what he wants entirely through threats and rumors, meanwhile he doesn’t actually use violence against anyone. (Villain ramble because I love writing villains)

Pairing I am not a fan of: There are some I find boring, and they’re usually those where the characters are too sweet or reserved. I like characters with little filter between their minds and their mouths.

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): Hmm maybe just the ones who got less development, then again most development seems to come from fanon.

Favourite Friendship: ROMANO AND VENE, idk if it counts because they’re more family than friends, but idc

Character I most identify with: Like a weird mix of Romano, Canada, and Russia

Character I wish I could be: Greece, I want cats and I want to nap

Ship: Prumano

When I started shipping them: I ran out of fics to read for popular ships so I looked up this pair by chance and came across Seeing is Believing by VampireNaomi, and compared to other ships I like, the way prumano was presented here was just so realistic and believable

My thoughts: I think they’re somewhat similar characters who express things differently, which leads to a pretty fun dynamic

What makes me happy about them: They feel balanced together, and they’re both a weird mix of no-filter and repressed feelings.

What makes me sad about them: I love angst, so I guess fics where they share similar insecurities in the present day canonverse.

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: WEAK AND HELPLESS ROMANO

Things I look for in fanfic: Banter

My wishlist: I like things with just a bit of that melancholy atmosphere, where they’re a bit gruff with each other but not really mean, if that makes sense.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: For Romano, literally everyone? He’s quite the charmer. For Prussia, BFT, England, Canada (lowkey still like foreveralone!Prussia tho, haha)

My happily ever after for them: Bantering into the sunset

Character(s): North and South Italy (You read my mind, how could I pick just one D:)

How I feel about this character: I love them both but I might have a teeny tine preference for Romano

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: For Romano, literally everyone, but top 5 in order--Prussia, Germany, Spain, Greece, Luxembourg. For Vene--Japan, Germany, America, Romano

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: I absolutely love Romano and America being buds, and I also like Vene and Germany as a platonic thing

My unpopular opinion about this character: I can see strangers being drawn to Vene at first, but for people/nations who know them well, Romano can be more approachable because he’s more upfront, whereas Vene is more guarded and always smiling, and therefore unnerves some people.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I wish we got to see a snippet of Romano and Prussia’s movie. Or just more of them being buds?

Favorite friendship for this character: Basically the same answer as non-romantic relationship

My crossover ship: ...

[runaway-train-works]

11/11/11 Tag 📝 again...

I was tagged by @ham-palpert and @halosboat to do this (thank you darlings!) and they had some great questions so I picked a few from each list to create a list of eleven. And yes, this is my third one but they are fun💕

I realise you are probably all sick of this tag by now, so feel free to ignore this but I’m going to tag eleven different people to answer my questions this time around because I’m nosy and I do genuinely love seeing everyone’s answers to things like this. 

@beau-soleil-louis, @pocketsunshineharry, @kingsofeverything, @crinkle-eyed-boo, @helloamhere, @yourpricelessadvice, @bottomlinsons, @forreveries, @flicker-album, @lightwoodsmagic and @larrymaybe22 😘

My answers and my questions are under the cut.

✍🏻 What trope is your favourite to write?

Hate to say it but enemies to lovers. A healthy dose of sexual tension and angst before the love and fluff, always a winner.

✍🏻 What are your methods for getting rid of a writer’s block?

Writing drabbles. Working on something small and fun that doesn’t really mean anything or require a lot of thinking and plot helps me clear the cobwebs.

✍🏻 Do you consider tags necessary for fics or are they just spoiling the content?

Urgh, I have a serious love/hate relationship with tags. I completely and utterly understand why triggering tags need to used, people need to be safe, but I hate how I feel obliged to tag everything about my fic so people can decide if they are going to read a 40k fic based on a few, possibly out of context, tags. And yes, they are spoilers, sorry that’s a fact. Like my ridiculous fic has a big twist in it and I know I’m going to have to tag what it is because I will get so much shit if don’t and that really annoys me. Also, I think tags are good to be able to find fics again but some tags are completely unnecessary and no good to anyone. You don’t get tags on normal books or movies or tv shows. You get a summary or a trailer and you have to decide for yourself if it’s what you are interested in. People need to be more adventurous and less reliant on tags in my humble opinion.

✍🏻 Was there a fic that made you cry?

Not that I recall, but I don’t read much sad stuff and with happy stuff, I’m more fist bumping the air to myself in bed like the single loser I am than crying with happiness.

✍🏻 Are you participating in any exchanges/fests?

Yes! I’m doing an anon fic for the ridiculous fic exchange (I’m also a mod) which may include a controversial for the fandom trope (👀👀👀), then I’ve got a fluffy mpreg one planned, then my 28 proposals fest fic and then I have an idea for a fic for the royal fic fest which I am super excited about! Basically got the next nine months of fics planned out.

✍🏻 Have you ever been burned by a WIP that never updated?  If so, describe that traumatic experience.

Yes!!! OK so there was a Narry fic ages ago where Harry was a secret admirer of Niall’s but like kinda lowkey stalking him from afar and it was a bit dark to be honest but I got hooked and the writer kept leaving little clues as to who the person might be in Niall’s life and then they stopped updating and then deleted it and I NEVER FOUND OUT WHO HARRY WAS!!!! It was very upsetting. 

✍🏻 Speaking of WIPs, do you like writing (or reading) them?  Why or why not?

Most of the time I avoid them, unless it’s a writer I know is pretty safe to depend on and regularly updates. I worry I’ll get burned AND I also have a shit memory so if they don’t update pretty regularly I forget what’s happened. I’ll be releasing my ABO fic as a WIP but I’m writing the entire thing first so I know it’s good to go.

✍🏻 Do you enjoy writing smut scenes?  Does it make you feel super awkward?  Do you need to have a cigarette afterwards?

Hmmmm. This is hard one (no pun intended). I don’t think I’m very good at writing smut for a start. I read other smutty fics and I’m like ‘jesus, i need a cold shower that was so good’ and I don’t have the talent to make mine like that yet. I do, however, like writing smut in the sense that I love writing the chemistry between the characters and having them be intimate and tender with each other or just go to town and be wild with it, depending on their dynamic and the plot. I hate it because it takes me so long to write a scene because you have to be like ‘shit where was his hand? Are they still in their underwear? Would that position be possible on a sofa? etc etc etc and it can be tedious. I also always want to try and be at least somewhat original somewhere with a smut scene with the way I write it, but there really are only so many ways you can write ‘they fucked’.

✍🏻 Do you click through the recently updated list on AO3 or read exclusively fic recs? Or a bit of both?

I’ve only been on tumblr since last summer, so before that, I literally just had to trawl through Ao3. If I found a fic I liked, I’d then go through the writers back catalogue, then start again with the most recently updated. Now, I go pretty much off fic recs on tumblr. I bookmark a fic I want to read when I see an interesting mood board or people are raving about a fic. my bookmarks are ridiculous at the moment because I’ve not been reading nearly as often since I changed my job and no longer travel for an hour there and back every day.

✍🏻 Are you someone who comments on the fics you read (and liked)?

I’m so bad at this. I don’t know what to say other than ‘i loved this it was cute/hot’. I know I should comment more because I know how lovely it is to receive them, but I guess I’m just too self-conscious about it or something stupid.

✍🏻 Of all the fics you’ve written, which one came to you the easiest?

My camboy one No One But You Got Me Feeling This Way. The whole thing popped into my head fully formed and I literally wrote it in a day.

✨Here are my 11 questions:

What fic/trope do you really want to write but haven’t yet?

What was the first ever fic you wrote and what made you decide to take the plunge and write it?

Is there a writer that you love that you think needs more attention and kudos in the fandom?

Have you got any long abandoned WIPs lurking?

Do your close family/friends outside the fandom read your fics?

Do you ever re-read your own fics after posting them?

If you had to write a sequel to one of your fics tomorrow, which one would it be and why?

What kinds of fics/tropes do you think we need more of in the fandom?

How often do you spend writing in an average week and is there a certain time of day/day of the week you do it?

What are your tips for getting out of a writing funk?

What can people expect from your next fic?

[overthinkingmatsu-blog]

S2E7 Redemption?

As expected, S2E8 did not offer much reassurance over last week’s troubling episode, aside from handing us the carrot of a glorious mixed world mash up. But back to the stick that I’m stuck on. S2E7 was controversial and not exactly in the fun, playful way that made other hilariously bold scenes a success. There was something truly dark and unsettling about that episode. While some fans were able to look past this new low in Osomatsu’s character to fully enjoy the awkwardness of his failures, others were taken aback by the frivolous treatment of what should have been a more serious subject. For me, this episode was distressing enough to seriously reconsider my dedication to this anime. I felt bewildered, if not a bit betrayed, unsure of where the Osomatsu-san staff was going with this or how they could have thought this was a good idea in the first place. Sexual Harassment Oso is not ok! And today’s episode doesn’t paint him any better. Obviously, he hasn’t learned.

After much soul searching and working through the five stages of grief over the death of Osomatsu’s moral decency, I thought I had finally come to terms with S2E7, that maybe I could keep watching this show but with somewhat less joy whenever that creep Osomatsu shuffled on screen. (I’m sorry, I just can’t get over it. That stuff is really dark.) Then I came across this post by crtter, on the parallel episode theory, that helped put things in perspective and restored my faith in the Ososan staff. It’s been widely noted that S2E7 has much in common with S1E7, just as season 2’s premier obviously borrows the same gimmick as it’s first season counterpart. However, as crtter and probably others have pointed out, there are several other subtly obvious connections between like-numbered episodes of the two seasons. (I’d like to add that S1E3 does include a rare Nenchuu sighting in “Pachinko Police.” *nudge nudge*)

What does that mean for our boy, Mr. Oh-So-Suave? I’ve seen some people express doubt that the staff is going to grant Osomatsu any real character development on this front. This show is so abstract yet so simple, you just have to roll with the punches. But that kind of attitude never made sense to me. I fondly remember the first season being rich in character development, a very smart anime with fine command over every detail on a time and space level. While at first glance it feels like there is too much going on for there to possibly be any method to this madness, there frequently is a great deal of craft and intent working slyly below the surface. Which may be why I was so baffled and dismayed by some of these newer episodes. With the parallel episode theory in mind, I’m going to bet that we’ll see a new development relevant to S2E7 and that it will likely happen during season 1’s other mixer episode, episode 22. In case episode 22 seems a little too convenient, other contenders may be episode 9 and episode 13 for their complex connection with porn. It might be a hard wait as we potentially watch our protagonist sink to deeper depths, but I hope it’s worth it.

The angst lifted, I think I can enjoy Osomatsu-san again. Like back in the sweet and innocent days. Osomatsu-san staff, I’m sorry I doubted you! I’m sure your intentions are good! I hope.

To be continued with further insights and parallels on the seventh episodes.

[rohza]

be my mistake / somebody else

the 1975

that’s the last time i want to do it, i swear. i think? i hope so... i mean the reason why i’m typing this is to give myself some peace, hoping to reach a final closure. i told myself, “ah i wanna say something one last time, because i noticed something rather amusing and kind of pathetic...”

closure, huh...?

i already tried that before and honestly, it only made things worse for me. it made me want to find out more, made me say things that are, despite being true, are the opposite of nice. a part of me doesn’t regret the things i said, because they’re true after all. i have had some second opinions too. but i cannot deny that there were times when the things i said haunted me in my dreams. i thought i was being confronted and it made my heart pound like one of those times when i thought i was in trouble, expecting a lot of beating from my parents. thankfully, it was only a dream. i thought to myself, “it’s okay, there is no way in this world they could ever reach me and they have no reason to.” surely, even this little memento they won’t ever witness to read? i truly hope so.

but let me start from the beginning, where this unnecessary mess began. i’ve always struggled with letting this go, letting them go, letting him go. i don’t know why...

a new decade has begun, a fresh journey yet to happen. about 3 months before the school year was about to finish, the most unexpected happened. a friend wanted to spend more time with the person she liked. i accompanied her. to my awkward surprise, perhaps that’s a good way to describe it, this person was also often accompanied by his own friend. a person who then becomes a particular person.

particularly significant.

by and by, those two faded into the distance, both the particular person and myself growing enamored with each other. until the day came when we exchanged contacts. day by day, we talked of many things. i remember referring to him, at least to myself, as a bit of an older brother figure. i don’t know why, but i’ve always had a thing about having an older brother. as time continued to pass, i was aware about my growing feelings, until the day came.

i will never forget that day, the hesitation in his voice when he first spoke, as if any moment he might change his mind and say something else. he always had a soft voice, it was generally gentle. maybe a little friendly at times.

“i -”

“i... what? i don’t get it.”

“i -”

“can you speak up? i’m not sure what you’re trying to say.”

“i love you.”

“...”

“...”

“you’re kidding, right?”

“i’m not.”

out of all this mess i like to think that that’s my favorite memory, at least. the one thing i want to keep and think of pleasantly, because the rest are rather bitter. at school, we would try to spend time in between classes. recess, lunch and after school. we often sat by the library, outside, next to each other. i remember how tenderly he would look at me often, sometimes brushing my hair from my face. it was nice to be looked at like that. i don’t think i gave those moments much thought until now. eventually, all those little instances of our time together became controversial for my friends.

my best friend at the time, god-knows-why a thirteen year old thought it was his responsibility to convince his friend that she’s with the wrong guy... to this day, i cannot think of any comprehensible reason as to why, but he did anyway. i remember crying that day, it felt unfair. why was i, a 7th grader, being asked to choose between my friends and a person i liked?

as the final exams lurked around the corner, out of concern for my studies, my parents took my phone’s sim card. having noticed how much time i’d spend texting him. it wasn’t very long until one day, he got me a new one to use. at first i refused, but the second time he gave it to me, i reluctantly accepted. unable to resist, i used it and so we continued everyday, every night, until we would fall asleep with our phones in our hands. then every next morning, i was always greeted with the nicest messages.

but all good things must come to an end; and so the day came when i was found out. summer vacation had just begun when it happened. i had to make a choice. honestly, what surprised me, even now when i think about it, was how fast i made a decision. despite not wanting to, my fear won over my own desires. and so, i abruptly said good bye. the way i reacted and how i made a choice so fast can both be explained by how my parents raised me. specifically, my mother. i was raised to fear. i was terrified at what they would do to me. it felt like emotional torture, having to endure how my mother spoke and treated me throughout summer.

as i entered 8th grade, a lot of days i would almost breakdown in tears. he always tried to approach me. he pleaded, crying out my name. all i could do was quickly distance myself from him and try to hide, holding back my tears. things went on like that for a while. and as things kept happening, mundane things, i was convincing myself that i hated him. i don’t know why i did that. the only reason i could think of was that, if i hated him then that would put more distance between me and him, between me and what had happened. aside from being completely terrified of my mother, i convinced myself that i hated him, when it was myself that i hated for being involved with such a person. mostly because of his physical appearance, which my family enjoyed poking fun at.

there was also a time, i cannot quite remember when, i talked with his youngest sister. i’m not sure if it was him using her account or if it was genuinely his sister, but i was told that he spent all summer locked in his room, crying and letting him starve. i felt bad, i knew it was because of me. but i really couldn’t do anything.

i avoided him a lot and hid from him at school. i was able to focus on my studies during 8th grade. my grades went up and i was top of my class, though deep down i felt miserable because of what happened. then came along 9th grade. i vividly remember the early school dance that year. he invited me to dance and i said yes. clear as day is memory of that day. his cold, shaky hands barely touching my waist. his timid voice, despite his height of 5′11. it was dark and slow romantic songs played. typical for every highschool dance. it felt nice, but the strange thing was, i did not feel the same nervousness as he did. i was rather calm and trying to converse with him to lighten the tension. after a few minutes, i decided i wanted to sit down. as i said good bye, turned around and faced my classmates sitting together, they all shrieked. i immediately looked back and he was gone. there was no one in the space where we stood just a few seconds ago. my classmates rushed to me, “is he alright? what did you do to him?”

at that time, i wasn’t sure what they meant. but now, i can recall well that they said, that he seemingly collapsed on one knee, before disappearing into the crowd. i’d like to think of that incident as my second favorite memory of him. i guess it feels flattering to think about how i can bring a person to his knees in distress because of my presence. it’s just kind of sad that he doesn’t that feel way about me anymore. i think, around this time i also tried to be more friendly towards him again. i would smile at him sometimes in the hallway or the canteen. surprisingly, i was invited to join the school newspaper and another surprise, he was there too. there were a few times when the two of us would be left together during club meetings because everyone was always busy running around getting things done.

then prom came. this was my only regret. i didn’t dance with him. i wanted to. a part of me badly wanted to. but i didn’t. my parents promised me a telescope if i reject his invite. so i did but, i never got the telescope nor the praise i was waiting from my parents for doing a good job resisting. i am somewhat glad, that at moment my friend took a picture when he was inviting me to dance. another thing is how that night, i spent most of my time looking around, checking my phone and wishing for another particular person to be there.

not much happened when i reached my senior year. he’s a year ahead of me, so by this time he was already starting in college. at times, he visited the campus and i would see him. one thing i remember well, that i wish i did not do because it’s just embarrassing, is how i approached him during one of his visits and i told him something. i can’t recall everything i said, only the part where i said to him, “keep an open heart, you’re gonna find someone too someday and find happiness with them.”

funnily enough, when i said that i was wholeheartedly wishing him good luck. i genuinely wished for him to be happy with someone. but when he did find someone, i became... bitter. unaccepting. jealous, maybe? at first, i was simply curious. but curiouser and curiouser, ‘til i fell down the rabbit hole of angst. as mentioned earlier, i said things that, despite being mean, are true. honestly, i find it difficult to admit that i simply had done something distasteful because a big part of me is aware that the things i said were and are still true.

i think i want to keep this part short, because i thought about it so many times already; discussed it excessively, even. he said some things that gave me hope, gave me this feeling of superiority over the new girl. he expressed his constant searching for what we had, a yearning for what it felt like when it was me, saying that he found neither with her. unconsciously, i latched onto those words with such a triumphant joy. “truly, no one can love more than they have loved me.” a voice at the back of my mind snickered. i longed and hoped everyday that his words still remained true. but how utterly foolish of me and hopelessly self-centered.

for a long while, i tried to search for a valid reason. perhaps there was a deep meaning as to why i so wanted him to reserve most of his heart for me, despite me already having the entirety of someone else’s? the more i tried to look for a reason, the deeper i fell into the hole i dug. my bitterness justifying it’s rotten existence. there were a number of times when i decided that i would try to stop and focus on the present, but i always receded; as constant as the ocean’s waves crashing back and forth.

currently, he seems rather happy. he looks as if he finally reached his conclusion; found his closure. i’m not sure i can say the same for myself. and now here we are, in this chapter. i now understand that curiosity is driven by our feelings, because we care. we have this need to know. i really want it stop. i want to stop caring. i want to stop being curious. i don’t want to think about it. i try not to dwell, but even a little glimpse sometimes drives me all the way back.

i am praying, hoping, desperately pleading myself that this is truly the last chapter where after the remaining pages, i will close the book. but i would be lying if i said i am not doubting my own words right now as i type this. i don’t think i’ll ever stop caring or feeling things at all. something will always remain. i also cannot stop being curious, but what i can do is resist.

resist and look ahead.

look far ahead.

where am i going?

who am i going to be with?

what am i going to be doing with my life?

as i try to think of my answers, his name does not come up. rather, someone else’s. i should focus on that and whatever i want my future to hold for me; however that future turns out.

it gives me strength knowing that i have you here. that much i know.