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jaehyunfirstlove · 4 years ago

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let me love you down

You’re a former idol trainee turned fashion designer, called back by the company to dress one of their groups for their next comeback. You assume it’s for one of their girl groups, but you’re surprised to see it’s for one of their boy groups. That’s when you meet him again, the one who’d had a crush on you when you were both trainees, except now, he’s no longer the cute boy with dimples. He’s a man now, and he’s determined to prove it to you.

Pairing: idol!jaehyun x noona!reader

Genre: smut (18+ only)

Warnings: noona kink (reader is a few years older than Jaehyun), nipple play, fingering, sex in front of a mirror, unprotected sex, rough sex, oral sex (m. receiving), dirty talk, swearing

Word count: 3.5k

Taglist: @jaehyunnie77 @mrg-jjh (send me a message if you want to be tagged in future fics)

A/N: purely self-indulgent haha

You walked the halls of the familiar building, memories of your trainee days coming back to you, both pleasant and not so pleasant. You smiled as you passed the practice rooms, remembering the endless hours of dancing you’d done in them, as well as the hours of sitting around and gossiping with the other trainees. You didn’t miss the grueling regimen, but you did miss the friendships you’d made along the way.

“Y/N!” One of those trainee friends, now turned idol, ran towards you now with arms outstretched.

“Irene!” you squealed, as you both wrapped your arms around each other for a tight hug.

“I heard you were coming today! It’s so nice to see you!” Irene wrapped an arm around your waist, looking you up and down, “and you look fantastic!”

You beamed at her praise, twirling around so she could see your outfit for the day, which you had designed.

“So, is it your group I’m dressing for the comeback?” you asked, thinking it made the most sense, as your style fit their concept the best.

“Nope,” Irene shrugged, “you’re in there.” She pointed towards a meeting room at the end of the hall.

“Oh, okay.” You were confused, but hugged Irene goodbye and promised to keep in touch. When you opened the door to the meeting room you were surprised to see the members of one of the company’s boy groups, along with their managers.

The concept was explained to you and you understood why they had called you in, and you were excited to work on something new, not having designed menswear before. As you listened to the pitch and took notes, you couldn’t help but feel a certain pair of eyes on you much more than the others. You remembered training with most of them, but they had been a whole lot younger back then, and you, being one of the older trainees, didn’t spend too much time around them. Out of curiosity you finally turned to them, studying their faces, until you came to the one who had been giving you looks.

He held your gaze for a moment, smiling, before he turned away shyly. You remembered him for sure, you could never forget those dimples. He had been the one that all the girls said had a crush on you, and teased you mercilessly about it. You smiled at the memory, and at the fact he had grown up well, the pudgy face of early adolescence transformed into the sharp cheekbones and jawline that made him the well-earned visual of his group.

With the meeting over each member came up to you and re-introduced themselves, asking you if you remembered them, talking all at once, bringing up stories and memories, some you remembered, some you didn't. Jaehyun, the one who’d had a crush on you back then, stood back a bit from the other members, just watching you with a shy smile on his face.

“And you remember Jaehyun, don’t you, noona?” Johnny suddenly said, pushing Jaehyun forward so he stood right in front of you. The other members snickered, apparently his little crush was well known amongst them as well.

“Of course,” you said, smiling at him, “it’s nice to see you again, Jaehyun.”

Flustered, he didn’t know whether to bow or shake your hand, so he settled on both, bending slightly towards you with his hand outstretched. You took his hand and shook it, noticing how cold and clammy it was. His ears were also a bright red, and he was aware of it, once you took your hand away he couldn’t help but touch them nervously with his hand.

“It’s nice to see you too, noona,” he said, and you couldn’t help but notice how much deeper his voice had gotten. He really did grow up well, you thought.

“I’m really looking forward to working with all of you,” you addressed them all, wanting to break the awkward atmosphere that had settled. There was a chorus of cheers, the members clearly happy about working with you as well. “I am going to need a couple of you to come by my studio tomorrow to do an initial fitting though.”

As the leader it was Taeyong’s job to assign people, so he looked around at each member. You noticed that Jaehyun looked at him hopefully. “Um, I think Haechan should be available, and…” he looked around again, and Jaehyun actually stepped up to him with his hand raised, “okay, Jaehyun can go too.” He chuckled, giving in.

“Okay thanks, I’ll see you two tomorrow,” you pointed at the two members who would be joining you the next day. Haechan smirked, side-eyeing Jaehyun, who just smiled widely at you.

---

The next day you got a text from Haechan saying that he wasn’t feeling too well so he couldn't make it to the fitting and that he was sorry, and he hoped that just having Jaehyun would be enough. You texted back saying it was fine, and that you hoped he would feel better.

You busied yourself around the studio while you waited, laying out the garments you were anxious for them to try. You had hoped for at least two members to get a better idea of sizing, but you’d have to make do with just one. You found it sweet that Jaehyun had clearly wanted to volunteer, and you were looking forward to catching up with him to see how he liked the idol life. Halfway through your idol training you had decided it wasn’t for you and had quit, deciding instead to go into fashion design. You didn’t regret your decision at all, loving your work, and watching idols perform onstage was enough for you, content that you hadn’t pursued that life. You had great respect for the trainees who’d made it, remembering how difficult it had been for you, and working with them again was definitely a treat.

In the middle of your reminiscence, Jaehyun walked into your studio. You almost didn’t recognize him, thinking he was a model from one of your other projects. He was dressed casually, in a black t-shirt and jeans, barefaced, his black hair tinted with streaks of blue, but he still exuded such a presence that you were taken aback.

“Oh, Jaehyun,” you said, startled slightly as he approached you.

“Noona,” he bowed gracefully, then smiled. There was an air about him that almost made him seem regal, like a prince undercover, and there were no traces of the shyness he’d exhibited the day before.

You couldn’t help but look him up and down, the change in his demeanor putting him in a whole new light. Your business brain observed the broadness of his shoulders, and how shirts and jackets would hang off them perfectly, how his narrow waist would show off the cut of a tailored coat, and how the proportions of his long legs and solidly built torso would make the perfect canvas for any creation you could come up with.

He saw you staring and smiled widely, his dimples getting deeper while his eyes crinkled ever so cutely. You remembered liking his face when he was younger, but the cuteness had morphed into a drop-dead gorgeousness that you couldn’t help but acknowledge. And the way he looked at you now, far from the puppy-dog eyes of youth, it was more intense, but somehow still playful.

“Um, shall we get started?” you cleared your throat, trying to clear your brain of the mixed emotions you were feeling, knowing you had a job to do.

You brought him over to a rack of clothes in front of a full-length mirror, showing him the different ideas you had for the comeback. He nodded now and then, giving you feedback when you asked and offering his own opinions here and there. You found he was very knowledgeable when it came to fashion and fabrics, and he had very firm opinions on what he liked and what he didn’t like. You appreciated that because it made your job so much easier, now you had a pretty good idea of what you wanted to do.

“Wow, that’s great!” you said, when he had finished giving you his detailed opinion on one of the outfits. “Why don’t you try it on, and then we can tweak any parts that you’re not happy with.” You handed him the outfit and pointed him towards a changing room in the back of the studio.

You sat on the sofa waiting for him to come out, and when he did your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him. He’d foregone wearing a shirt underneath the jacket, and had zipped it only halfway, so a good part of his chest was showing. The leather pants were skintight, straining against his muscular thighs, and showing too much of what was between his legs that you had to look away. He came and stood in front of you, so that you were eye level with his crotch.

“What do you think, noona?” he asked nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t currently a walking thirst trap.

“Um,” you cleared your throat, standing up quickly so that his crotch wasn’t in your view, “looks great!” you fiddled with the fabric, adjusting here and there, but you found that doing that made you touch him far too much. Brushes of your hands against his body, and you could feel the firmness even through the fabric. You were also so close to him that you could feel him breathing, feel the rise and fall of his chest under your hands. The worst part, however, was that you could smell him, a scent so intoxicating that it made your head spin.

He watched you the entire time, not saying a word, his eyes following your movements. You started to get nervous under his stare, with the intense way he was looking at you, and you fumbled with the zipper of the jacket trying to zip it up further to cover him up and salvage some of your sanity. Close to the top, it got stuck, probably because your hand was shaking and you couldn’t do it smoothly. You tried to unstick it, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Here, let me try,” Jaehyun offered, but it was stuck fast and wouldn’t move.

“We’ll have to cut you out of it, it’s just a sample so no big deal,” you said, turning around to get some fabric scissors to cut with. Just then there was a loud tearing sound echoing in the room, and you turned around in shock to see Jaehyun had ripped the jacket open, his chest now fully exposed, nipples perking from the coolness of the air conditioning.

“I got it,” he said cockily, a smirk forming on his lips as he watched your reaction.

Your jaw was probably on the floor, eyes bulging out of your sockets. Your hands reached towards him, whether to cover him up or touch his chest you really couldn’t tell. Your reaction seemed to embolden him though, because he stepped forward towards you, right into your personal space.

“Do you like what you see, noona?” he asked, his voice low but teasing.

You were now eye level with his chest, and you had to admit, you really liked what you were seeing.

“I know I had a little crush on you when I was younger,” he continued, his voice as sweet as honey, “but I’m older now,” he leaned even closer to you, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “bigger too.”

Everything he was saying and doing was going straight to your core, and your hands flew up and fisted into his torn jacket. He grabbed your hips and spun you around so that you were both facing the mirror.

“Do you like me, noona?” he asked sweetly, pulling your hair to one side so he could have access to your neck. You angled your head to open up more of your neck to him, falling hopelessly under his spell.

“Yes,” you breathed, and he didn’t quite kiss you yet, just his lips hovering over your skin. You could feel goosebumps forming as you watched him in the mirror, teasing you.

“Would you like it if I kissed you?” he said, breath hot against your neck.

“Yes,” you nodded, watching in breathless anticipation as he leaned further in. Just before his lips connected with your skin he locked eyes with you in the mirror and smirked.

Your knees went weak as he sucked harshly on your skin, there were no tentative or tender kisses, just all out sucking, teeth grazing, definitely leaving marks that you’d have to hide. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place, and soon enough you could feel his hard bulge pressing against your ass.

You tried not to moan out loud, but then his hands started to roam, one of them moving up under your shirt, up your stomach, over your bra. He groaned when he felt only the flimsy lace separating his fingers from your perked nipple. He pinched it, and you couldn’t suppress the whimper that escaped your lips.

“Oh fuck, noona,” he groaned into your shoulder, “I knew you would sound sexy.”

While you were too busy basking in the pleasure of his fingers pinching your nipples, you barely noticed that his other hand had moved down, undoing your jeans and slipping over the matching lace of your panties. You inhaled sharply as he cupped your pussy, gripping it almost possessively.

“Is this okay, noona?” he asked, and you could hear him breathing heavily.

“Yessss,” you breathed out, the word elongating because now he was tearing your shirt off and unhooking your bra, throwing the garments to a corner of the room. Your upper half was now bare to him, and he looked at you in the mirror, eyes hungry with lust.

“Fuck, you’re more beautiful than I ever remembered,” he said, awe in his voice, before he went back to pinching your nipples. He watched you in the mirror as you whimpered, tweaking and pinching and pulling lightly, and the louder you got the harder he did it.

“You like that, don’t you, noona?” His voice sweet like honey again. He pulled the hand out that was cupping your pussy and yanked your jeans and underwear down, so that now you were completely bare to him.

“So fucking sexy,” he groaned, pressing his obvious erection even harder against your ass. He was still fully clothed and you were completely naked, and for some reason that turned you on even more. You were sure you were dripping wet for him and sure enough, when you looked in the mirror you could see your arousal glistening on the insides of your thighs. This observation didn’t escape him either, his hand slipping between your legs, middle finger rubbing the wetness along your slit.

“So fucking wet for me,” he groaned right into your ear, and you moaned even louder, throwing your head back against his shoulder as his finger made a mess of you.

“Do you like this, noona?” he whispered, slipping two fingers inside you. You arched your back as his fingers penetrated you, a long drawn out moan the only answer you could manage to his question. “Does it feel good?” he asked, thrusting his fingers deeper inside of you. You could only nod vigorously, your limbs turning to jelly as the pleasure coursed through your body. You could feel the knot in the pit of your stomach starting to form, and you started panting as it crept up on you.

“Are you close, noona?” he breathed into your ear, picking up the pace, ramming his fingers so hard into you that you couldn’t help but cry out, clinging onto his arm as the knot in your stomach snapped, and you came, your pussy clenching around his fingers.

“So fucking hot,” he murmured, pulling his fingers out of you. He gave you a moment of reprieve, letting you rest for a moment against his chest as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. You watched his face in the mirror as he rubbed the tip of it against your wet folds, his lips pursed with concentration, his eyes dark and hooded. Once again he looked up and locked eyes with you in the mirror, a sexy smirk forming on his face before he rammed his cock into your pussy from behind.

You almost fell forward from the force of his thrust but he caught you, arms around your middle as he fucked into you. There was no gentleness in his movements, just power and raw strength, and that aroused you so much you thought you would pass out. You held onto his arms for dear life as he pounded ruthlessly into you, your throat already getting hoarse from the needy whines and whimpers that you couldn’t hold back.

“You like it, noona?” he growled into your ear, “You like my cock?”

“Fuck, yes!” you screamed, your eyes glazing over as the pleasure once again spread throughout your body.

“You look so good with my cock buried inside you,” he whispered, “look at how your pretty pussy swallows my cock.” He spread your thighs apart so you could see in the mirror, and you were mesmerized by the way his cock disappeared into your pussy. Suddenly he lifted you up by your thighs like you weighed nothing, and bounced you on his cock, opening up your legs even further for a better view.

“That’s better,” he said, pleased at how much more he could see now.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and you were a mess. Your hair was all over the place, your mascara was smudged, your lipstick smeared. Your jaw was slack and your eyes were glassy, you couldn’t believe how fucked out you looked. It only served to spur Jaehyun on.

“Fuck, you look so hot bouncing on my cock,” he said, voice raspy, gripping your thighs so hard you were sure you’d have an imprint of his fingers there. The way he was manhandling you, the filthy things coming from his mouth, all served to bring you to your second orgasm of the day, clenching hard around him.

“That’s it, noona, come for me, come all over my cock,” he growled, breath coming in short gasps, signalling that he was close, “you’re so fucking sexy when you come.”

You screamed when you came, his thrusts so hard and deep you could swear you felt him in your guts.

“I’m gonna come, noona,” he said through gritted teeth, and at that moment you had the overwhelming urge to taste him.

“In my mouth,” you panted, and he obliged, pulling you off him and setting you down on your feet. You were glad you didn’t have to stand, your legs wobbly as you knelt down in front of him. You couldn’t help but notice how beautiful his cock was, red and angry and glistening with your juices, and you took it into your mouth hungrily.

“Oh fuck, noona!” he cried out, his hands threading through your hair. He was watching you bob on his cock in the mirror, trying to hold out because you looked so hot doing it.

“That’s it, noona,” he encouraged, “your mouth feels so good,” he threw his head back, concentrating, but he slipped momentarily and rammed his cock down your throat. You gagged for a second, but the feeling actually turned you on, and you tried to take more of him into your mouth as you could.

“Oh shit, noona,” he moaned, “you like that, don’t you?”

You looked up at him and nodded, and the look in his eyes was almost feral. He took a hold of your head then, and started to fuck your throat, once again sparing you no mercy. He was rough on you and you loved it, pulling at your hair just hard enough that the pain mixed with the pleasure, and you could feel the wetness once again pooling between your legs. Your throat constricting around his cock triggered his orgasm, and he groaned loudly as his warm cum spilled down your throat. You took it all, swallowing every drop, and when he pulled out you swiped your tongue along the tip.

“Holy fucking shit, noona,” he swore, his eyes wide with awe as he looked down at you. He tried to keep up his cocky demeanor, but traces of the shyness from the day before were there too, and you couldn’t help but smile. He helped you stand up and gathered you into his arms, smiling somewhat shyly at you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Yes, very much okay.” You answered, although you knew you’d have marks on your neck and imprints on your thighs that you’d have to answer for. Either way it was worth it, as you finally discovered what that boy with the dimples was all about.

#jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun smut #nct imagines #nct smut

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rwbybutincorrect · 3 years ago

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I have some suggestions for your RWBY pokemon AU

I think Absol makes more sense as a pokemon either for Ruby, or, what I think is more fitting, for Qrow. Absol in the pokemon world is considered a harbinger of disaster because of its ability to sense oncoming calamities, and Qrow considers himself a bad luck charm and his weapon is called Harbinger, so I can imagine it being like, his signature pokemon, and maybe Ruby, wanting to emulate her Uncle, catches one for herself.

I also think Ruby and Yang's starters make more sense swapped around, Blaziken fits more with Yang (a hot headed fighting type) rather than Incineroar (a Dark type meant to emulate Heels in wrestling I.e the bad guys). Incineroar also fits better with Ruby's v1-v3 colours, though I also don't think a fire starter would fit Ruby, I think Sceptile fits more, as it's a fast pokemon that uses its leaves on its arms as blades, which I think fits Ruby better.

I'd also pick Rosarade over Florges but that's just my purrsonal preference.

Now for Weiss, my only suggestion would be changing Corvinkight with something else, and I'm thinking Glaceon. I love the idea that Weiss as a child finds an injured Eevee in the large family garden and secretly takes care of it, but her father finds out and forces her to take it back to the wilds, but while out there it saves Weiss from several Beowolves and in the artic climate evolves into a Glaceon which Weiss then adopts.

Blake, id replace Absol with Greninja for aesthetic, but otherwise I would change Gallade's past, Ralts' only show themselves to trainers with strong positive emotions, so I can't see Adam ever having one, but I like the idea of maybe Blake and Yang being helped during the forest exam at Beacon by two Ralts/Kirlia's who they then take (Yang saying its the sign of their new partnership), and otherwise I would change Gallade for Gardevoir for Blake and have Gallade be Yang's pokemon, since it's a pokemon with strong morals and I feel fit Yang better.

Now for Yang, and other than the previous suggestions of Blaziken and Gallade as hers, I would replace Tyrantrum with Hitmontop, storywise I'd say that, when she's recovering post Beacon and on her way back from visiting Summer's grave, she encounters a Tyrouge rushing headfirst into fighting a stronger pokemon and getting seriously hurt, so Yang saves it and takes it home to recover. Despite all its injuries it still insists on training, Tai seeing this starts encouraging Yang to train with it, hoping it'll help her out. As both Yang and the Tyrouge bond and train, learning not to rush headfirst into battles and to adopt a more balanced fighting style, it evolves into Hitmontop to symbolise Yang's recovering and training.

And thats just RWBY, I have plenty of suggestions for JNPR, Sun, Ilia, Adam, Salem's forces, STQR, the Ace-Ops, Happy Huntresses and Neo~

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submitted by @ladydevoir thank you :EYES:

[for reference, this is about this post]

treating this like an ask because i assume that's why you submitted it, because of the text limit but :EYESY:EYES:EYES

my choice of absol for blake is because i knew about the lore implications of absol and thought it would be a tragic detail if an absol appeared before her trying to protect her from the travesties she's repetitively had to face. i might give one to qrow anyway because I'm not afraid of duplicates!!! i didn't think about any supporting adult pokemon teams quite yet!

i will be honest, the blaziken choice for ruby was mostly self indulgent :3 i love chickens and blaziken's aesthetic. notable moments in the anime stuck with me, like during xy's series when there was a vigilante "blaziken man" protecting luminous city - that's a big reason why i chose it for her, that kind of over the top kind of heroism i thought worked. as opposed to incenroar who fights dirty. early in rwby, yang is a very backhanded and not exactly noble kind of hero. just look at the "yellow" trailer, fucking shit up for self motivated reasons (good for her.) i thought it fit her! --- but i can absolutely see what you're saying with sceptile, that is another favorite of mine and i'd love to see her with a sceptile that could mega evolve!

roserade, yeah i can see that fitting too! i forget it exists sometimes- my bad - and i like the grass type a little bit more to some extent than the fairy type because ruby has less of an association to the balance of nature~ that fairies do

i like the glaceon idea a lot too!!! the concepts of potential and direct reflection of her cold home - not to mention it's my second favorite eeveelution :D corviknight, yeah, it's my weakest link and i wanted to add it purely on the basis i'd like the snow queen to have her knight - but i think a glaceon would be much cuter, considering she already has plenty of stand ins for her glyphs!

I'm also interested about the greninja for the aesthetic! I'm not all that attached to the kalos starters so i tend to forget about them a lot more, i leaned on the "dark" type for blake but definitely didn't consider the. actual ninja pokemon. but i also tried to hold off on giving her a proper starter because in this little hc concept of mine, starters come specifically from pre-huntsmen schools (like signal in yang and ruby's case). i liked having the narrative of some students being "othered" by lacking starters - a visual tool when displaying their teams that they didn't have the opportunity to start where others did. not to say greninja couldn't have been a wild encounter or something else - fun to think about and really fits!

i DID not know about the kirlia lore though, i thought it was pretty weak when i was coming up with it and that is so interesting to know. i enjoy the idea of a pokemon switching allegiances from adam to protect blake but with this new information, I'll probably rewrite it in a way where the bee duo's ralts evos are more exclusive to them :3 i do like your idea of switching them, though, i tried to switch them to divert expectations, right (yang being a bit more masc than yang yet having a gardevoir, blake having the more showmanshy evo) but i might switch them. or i can just say the pokemon are practically shared and will switch up who they're paired with by their own choice. gf things <333

the hitmontop concept is really interesting for yang! it really does fit her - and i never paid attention to the line because, i will be honest, it never aesthetically pleased me, but narratively it works super well. i liked tyrantrum because i loved giving yang dragons and i also thought if she restored a tyrunt herself, it would be a nice indication of yang's genuine intelligence and wisdom. i don't like people boiling her down to a bimbo, haha funny stupid lesbian, but i feel like people also fail to recognize her genuine technical and social intelligence that she's portrayed throughout the series. then again, a hitmontop could show that emotional and protective instinct and intelligence she carries. it's sweet!! I'm torn!!!

AAAAANYWAY LONG STORY SHORT thank you so much for your opinions!!! i love the feedback and second opinion. i did a little bit of brainstorming with few friends in our discord server and its nice to hear an unrelated voice's takes!

feel free to send us more ideas if you'd like!!! :D as of right now I'm working on (the original) jnrp's post, and have penny, oscar, roman, neo, emerald, mercury, and cinder's teams planned! (I'm not sure how to section them off atm so their posts are coming later!) I'm curious to hear your ideas for when i get around to these other characters

#rwby pokemon teams #rwby #submission #jinn's answers #petal burst #im tagging these things for mysake <333 #thank you #talk to me about pokemon @ everyone #mod weiss doesn't understand my pokemonwords enough #and i get judged for team planning when i should be sleeping!!!!#long post

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aspenflower17 · 4 years ago

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Finding You (Part Nine of ??)

Happy Thanksgiving everyone (even if you don’t live in the US)! Here is the update for this week :) This chapter was a little self indulgent. I do talk a tiny bit about music theory and Jane Austen in this chapter. If you have questions about either, just ask and I can try to explain/direct you to some good sources on what I’m talking about 😅

Edit: Totally forgot to mention! The whole Pride and Prejudice HC about Lucifer is not originally mine. I believe I read it on one of the Beel blogs. I think it was @taco-beel :)

For anyone new, here is the link for Part One. I hope you enjoy 😁

Tags for the Lovelies: @simpingforsatan @naimena @hachimochi @wrathandgreed @magi-minminxiii @rensphilia @a-dream-at-night @chloelikesobeyme @getbehindme-satan (If you’d like to be added to the tags list, just message me or comment below!)

Satan/ F!Mc

Trigger Warnings: possibly for depression?

Word Count: 2,322

After Mc shut the door, she slid down the door to the floor, head in her hands. Well, that couldn’t have gone worse. I would’ve rather had him ignore me or not remember me at all. I could’ve figured out how to interact with him in those situations. But what was with him being sweet in the beginning, and then just seizing up? Then he grabbed my wrist and seemed super worried about me leaving and then didn’t even say anything the whole walk?! That goodbye too! What was that?!

The more Mc thought about the whole thing, the more upset she got. She leaned her head back against the door, her brain replaying the beginning of the conversation trying to figure out what had gone wrong. Remembering the look in his eyes as he had fervently declared he remembered her. The warmth of his voice.

Then the progressive unease as she had continued talking until the abrupt emotional cutoff. He had obviously been uninterested in talking with her any longer, though she really couldn’t figure out why. He had been so dismissive. But when I tried to leave… She looked down to the wrist he had grabbed. He sounded so… desperate. Like he truly didn’t want to let me leave. So, why didn’t he talk to me?

“Mc? Are you alright?” Michael asked, stepping into the entrance hall with Diavolo.

“I’m… I’m fine. Diavolo, do you have a music room?” Mc asked, standing up as nonchalantly as she could.

“Yes, of course.”

“Do you have a piano, or similar instrument?”

“Yes…”

“May I use it for the rest of the day? I need to compose.”

“I… Sure. I’ll have Lil’ D No. 2 show you the way,” and as he said that, a small demon appeared and beckoned her forward, and she promptly followed.

“Oh dear,” Michael sighed, eyes following Mc.

“What’s wrong,” Diavolo asked, thoroughly confused by the whole encounter.

“She is definitely not alright. She can only compose when she’s really emotional about something.”

“I… Wait, is she going to let us hear it when she’s done?” Diavolo asked, eyes lighting up.

Mc sat down at the piano. It was an almost pure black grand, and the key colors were reversed, which was messing with her brain visually. The piano bench lid was made from a beautiful dark red wood, the rest the same black as the rest of the piano. The piano did not look worn, but it was obviously old.

Mc started playing her normal warm up scales, but quickly stopped when she realized they didn’t sound right. She tried again with the same result. It’s in minor…

Trying out all the keys, she realized the whole piano was in minor. You could play major chords, but it was like making minor chords on a normal piano. Interesting.

Mc continued playing and getting warmed up, wanting to explore the amazing opportunity that had presented itself. She started playing some of her own creations, marveling at how different her songs sounded. As she was playing, she remembered a song she had abandoned a long time ago. Though it should have sounded correct, she had never been able to make it sound correct. I wonder…

She started playing the song, and was amazed to find just how perfect it sounded. It was the same song, but it now sounded perfect. Encouraged, Mc tried to continue composing, but she couldn’t get past where she had already composed, no matter how much she worked on it. Discouraged and a little frustrated, Mc look at her DDD and was surprised to see it was almost time for dinner.

Standing up, she promised herself she’d come back later, and work on it more.

“I’ve decided to throw a ball in Mc’s honor!”

Michael and Mc looked up from their dinner at the proclamation from Diavolo. Luke seemed unphased by the announcement.

“A ball? In my honor?”

“Yes! You’re my honored guest after all.”

“He also loves throwing balls,” Luke added.

“Also that,” Diavolo admitted.

“Well, I’d be honored. Thank you.”

“Perfect! It’ll be held a week from today. Barbados! Make sure invitations are sent and food is ready.”

“Yes sir,” Mc jumped, not realizing Barbados was in the room, turning around to see him exit. She was starting to notice the butler seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

“Is a week too fast?” Mc asked worriedly.

“Nonsense! This is a lot more notice than I usually give if I’m going to be honest,” Diavolo laughed.

“For a whole ball to be planned?”

“Yes! Barbados is one hell of a butler,” Diavolo grinned over his teacup, before taking a sip.

Mc sat in her room and mused over the events of the day. Now that she had calmed down enough to think rationally, she started analyzing Satan’s behavior, and found she really couldn’t make sense of it. Unless he thought I was someone else… Wait. That makes a lot of sense actually. Like not a ton of sense, because he should have realized I wasn’t them before I started talking about meeting him before, but more than anything else I can think of. He may have also been a little… unhinged. He did look like he hadn’t slept in three days…

Satisfied enough that her brain could rest, she snuggled down into her blankets. Every time she closed her eyes however, all she saw was Satan’s face as he had grabbed her wrist. She brought her other hand up to her wrist and grabbed it. Now smiling, she drifted off to sleep.

Mc snorted, shifting a bit as she read. The bed was comfortable, the scent of its owner making her feel safe and comforted. Classes had been long and when the demon that sat behind her had gotten up, they had accidentally hit her in the head with their bag pretty hard, which had made Mammon nearly kill them. She had narrowly saved their life by assuring him it had been an accident and somehow calming her guardian demon down. This then had resulted in her being called into talk with Lucifer about what had happened, and so she had missed her Devildom History course.

She had come to Satan’s room to grab the notes he had thoughtfully taken for her, but when he saw how worn out she was, he had offered a quiet evening of reading and tea. She hadn’t been able to refuse, seeing as how she relished anytime she could get with him. The scent of old books and their caretaker was a surefire way to help her unwind from the day, the stacks of books throughout the room making her feel like they were in their own little world. The outside world glittered in the perpetual darkness through Satan’s large windows.

“What’s so amusing?” Satan asked from the armchair he had moved over by his bed once their reading sessions became a normal occurrence.

“‘We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort of man; but this would be nothing if you really liked him’” Mc quoted.

“Ah! ‘You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’” Satan said, a cheeky grin on his face.

Mc’s brain stopped functioning for a second, “Wai… Wha…?”

“Pride and Prejudice right?”

“Oh, hehe, right,” Mc laughed, trying to hide behind her book as best she could as all the blood rushed to her face, “It’s a good quote.”

“You know, when it came out, there was a rumor going around that Mr. Darcy was based off of Lucifer.”

“Wait… You’re joking.”

“No. He had been spending a lot of time in the human realm. Sometimes we wouldn’t see him for weeks at a time. Then, he just stopped going up as much. About a year later, Pride and Prejudice was released. After the rumor started, Lucifer would not allow it in the house for the longest time. He even went so far as to ask Diavolo not to allow it in the Devildom at all.”

Satan had Mc’s full attention at this point, “What was his excuse?”

“Something about a stupid romance novel ruining his reputation, and how we needed to be the voice of reason for the lower demons if they were going to allow themselves to be so easily swayed to believe the nonsense.”

“You had a copy though, right?”

“Oh, of course I did. I still do actually. First edition. I even went up to the human realm to get it.”

“Wow… That explains so much though. Lucifer is like the epitome of Mr. Darcy.”

Satan shifted in his chair, and looked down at his book, “You think so?”

“Yeah. Tall, dark, handsome,” Mc watched as Satan sunk a bit lower in his chair at each word, seeming to get fairly upset, “Standoffish. Rude. Conceitful. Overbearing.”

“Ah, so you’re not a fan of Mr. Darcy?”

“Hmmm… I wouldn’t say that. He is her most popular leading man for a reason. But…”

“But?” Satan was looking at her now, his eyes probably larger and more insistent than he meant them to be.

“He’s far too prideful in the beginning for me. We probably wouldn’t have gotten anywhere,” Mc watched Satan relax visibly before continuing, “While I enjoy Pride and Prejudice, I’d rather read Sense and Sensibility or Northanger Abbey. I would rather have a Mr. Tilney or possibly even a Colonel Brandon. Someone who I could sit and make jokes with. Someone who would read to me. Someone I could go on adventures with and who could tell me all about this or that because they’re so well read,” Mc was looking down at the cover of the book now, and she could tell her face was heating up, “I’d much rather have someone like that.”

There was silence after Mc stopped talking, and she dared not look up. She’d basically just confessed to Satan, and she hadn’t even meant to. She kinda hoped her words went over his head, but also hoped they didn’t. The silence stretched longer than Mc would’ve liked before the bed shifted.

There was another few moments of silence before Satan spoke, a bit haltingly, “Mc, will you look at me? Please?”

Mc lifted her eyes shyly looking a little sheepish. She only had a moment of Satan’s shocked look before there was a flash of gold and his lips were on hers. She was so shocked she couldn’t respond for a second, but then she returned the kiss, melting as her body was on fire. Completely focused on the moment while soaring through the clouds. Perfect. It was perfect.

Mc came back to consciousness, her alarm playing soft piano music. She reached out her arms grasping. Searching. Coming up empty, she cracked an eye open, disappointment flooding her body when all she saw was her own arms. Her vision blurred as a strong wave of loneliness washed over her. She blinked a couple times to clear away her tears, feeling them slide down her face. She had had mornings like this in the Celestial Realm, though this was the first time she had remembered the dream that preceded it. She hadn’t really felt lonely since coming to the Devildom, and hadn’t registered it. Now though, it felt debilitating. She sent a text to Luke explaining she probably wouldn’t be down for breakfast and asking him to apologize to everyone for her. She then turned on some soft music, and dropped her DDD on the bed.

She lay quietly, the tears falling openly. This is what she had to do those terrible mornings in the Celestial Realm when she felt like she couldn’t face the day. Eventually her tears gave out, and she was left with an apathetic empty feeling. She continued laying in bed, not remembering a bout this bad in any recent history. After a while, she drifted off to sleep again.

“Hey. You awake?”

Mc groaned, sore from not moving in awhile, “Is that you Luke?”

“Yeah. I got a bit worried when you also missed lunch. You okay?”

“I think I’m okay now. I just got a bit too upset this morning.”

“Are you sure? I can tell Michael you’re caught up in an artistic frenzy or something.”

“Nah. Thanks though,” Mc smiled, still sleepy.

“Okay. As long as you're okay,” Luke was looking at her worriedly, but leaning down and kissing her forehead anyways, “I’ll make sure some lunch gets saved for you.”

“Thanks Luke,” Mc sighed, sitting up.

“Anything for my little sister.”

Over the next week, Mc continued trying to work on her song, though she didn’t get any further, along with her other art. She also read all about the Devildom’s history and visited some historically significant locations to put a name to a place. The whole time, her mind worked on the enigma that was her dream. She supposed it was a product of her brain trying to work through the disappointment of how her first meeting with Satan went, along with how active she had been since coming down to the Devildom. She tried to convince herself of this anyways. The truth was, it felt exactly like she was reliving a memory. It felt real, and nothing about it had been weird, all details clear, nothing out of place. It even felt familiar, she’d even go so far as to say worn, like some of her favorite memories did.

She blushed even thinking about the dream, clearly recalling the warmth and softness of his lips. The feeling of his hand on the back of her neck....

“Mc, are you almost ready,” Luke called from the other side of the door.

“Give me a couple more minutes. I’ll be down soon.”

“Okay. The guests are starting to arrive.”

“Sounds good. Thanks for letting me know,” Mc took one last look at herself in the mirror before nodding and getting up, “Let’s do this.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading! Like, comments and reblogs are appreciated! I love discussing Obey Me so feel free to chat with me 😁

Part Ten

#obey me!#OBEY ME #obey me satan #obey me satan/reader #obey me! swd #obey me f!mc #obey me luke #obey me diavolo #obey me michael #obey me mc

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madame-fouquet · 4 years ago

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2020 Anime Retrospective

With the end of the year here, and all the anime that came with it now behind us, I feel like looking back and reminiscing on it. So, following the style of ANN's own yearly retrospectives, may I present my 2020 anime in review! Enjoy.

Best of the year: Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken

This is actually not the first time Yuasa and his crew of, let's be honest, visionaries have rolled something special out right at the beginning of the year in some weird power move against everything else that has to follow it. They did it back in 2018 with Devilman Crybaby, and then they hit us this year with Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken. You ever have one of those shows where you're just constantly in awe of everything it does? Where you never found yourself chasing merch or hunting after content based off it online, but you consistently find yourself thinking about it? Yeah, that's what Eizouken did to my brain after I watched it. It was such an earnest love letter to anime and anime production, to animation in general, that I couldn't help but get sucked into its imagination and enthusiasm. The way it was able to so perfectly illustrate that pure, boundless, childlike joy that one can derive from the simple act of creating, I'd be lying if I didn't say that it had a powerful effect on my own desire to continue creating. (Corny as that sounds, it's true.) The sheer amount of love it contains, and the equal amount it puts out into the world make it so I know I am going to be thinking about it again and again for a long long time.

Runner-up: Akudama Drive

I don't know if it's really quite a matter of my two favorites being opposites, but there are definitely some pretty sharp stylistic and tonal differences between my two top shows this year. Akudama Drive's cocaine-fueled bender of an intro episode made it very clear what it's intentions were and what it wanted us to be prepared for. That doesn't mean I had ANY idea of where it was headed narratively, but I did know I was in for one hell of a ride. And it delivered is spades on that promise. The twists and turns, no matter how insane, illogical, or steeped in tropes they were, were all such a colorful energetic spectacle that it would be hard to hold anything against the series. Every character was such a force that I didn't really consider any of them a weak point. Yeah, some of them were more or less cardboard cut-outs of antagonistic elements, but when the cardboard cutout looks REALLY FREAKING COOL, it's hard to get too torn up over the details. It's a show that oozes style and knew EXACTLY what it wanted to do and be, and I have to respect that.

Runner-up-up: Toilet-Bound Hanako-kun

The next few entries aren't really in any sort of order, I actually found it near impossible to sort anything below my top two. Hanako-kun however does hold a bit of a special place for me though because, at least from a stylistic standpoint, it hits so many of my buttons. Just visually this show is the exact kind of thing my younger self would have latched onto immediately, even before knowing anything about the actual content. I suppose not much has really changed though. I'm absolutely in love with the animation style of Hanako-kun, and I got really lucky that there is an interesting story and delightful cast of characters underneath that visual splendor. Along with the sharp lines, intense colors, and soft characters, I'm also a sucker for contemporary supernatural mysteries. That's a fancy way of saying one of my favorite shows as a kid was The X-files, but both make the point pretty well. The world of Hanako-kun has a lot to offer, and I can only hope it gets a second season so we can continue to delve into it's beautiful and terrifying mysteries.

Runner-up-up: Kaguya-sama: Love is War Season 2

I know a lot of people will be talking about this one when it comes to “Best of” lists. I know a lot of people were talking about the first season when it reminded us just how funny anime can be back in 2018. Absurd high school comedies (Is that a genre?) could definitely be considered my favorite. Hell, of my top five favorite anime of all time, THREE of them fall under that category. So believe me when I say Kaguya-sama absolutely deserves the deluge of praise it receives. For what describing something as “laugh out loud” is worth, this show had me constantly needing to pause it just so I could finish laughing at whatever ludicrously funny misfortune had just befallen it's cast of lovable morons. The thing is though, Kaguya-sama understands that you can't just earn love and goodwill on laughs alone, there needs to be a beating heart at the center of all the shenanigans. And when this season had me actually cheering on and feeling sorry for Ishigami of all people, I knew that beating heart was present and accounted for. Look, the cast are all self-centered idiots, but I'll be damned if they aren't also my dear children who I delight in watching slowly grow and become slightly less self-centered idiots.

Runner-up-up: Dorohedoro

When the Dorohedoro anime was first announced, a lot of my experience was watching a group of people online scream about how they were so pumped that it was finally getting an anime. I had never heard of it before, but the excitement was very real and tangible. And I gotta say, sometimes you need to believe the hype. I've never been one to shirk a series just because it was CG animation, (Watch ID-0 dammit!) but Dorohedoro makes a strong case for why people shouldn't sleep on something based solely on it's animation. The dirty, grease-encrusted world of Hole is brought to life with plenty of flair and style that, I feel, the CG didn't hold back at all. What I had seen said was that for a long time Dorohedoro was kinda considered “unanimateable” but I think MAPPA did the iconic manga a fair amount of justice. Even if pulpy ultra-violence isn't normally your thing, I still highly recommend giving Dorohedoro a look, it might just end up being a hole worth going down.

Honorable Mention: Show By Rock!! Mashumairesh!!

I know what you're thinking, but hear me out. The first Show By Rock!! was definitely an indulgence for me. While not something I considered a high level series by any stretch: messy plotting, shallow characters, a weird isekai angle, a lackluster finale, and an even MORE lackluster second season, it still got is hooks into me with its sheer energy and fluffy charm. So despite the, as mentioned, rough second season, I was more than happy to check out the new series in the franchise. And boy was I glad I did. Mashumairesh!! takes all the heart and sweetness that worked for the first series and dials it up. It then took a hard look at a lot of what DIDN'T work in the first series, and manages to fix most of the issues. Removing the isekai angle and the whole existential threat thing, and just letting the series be a “slice-of-life but in an electric animal filled music world” did wonders for the direction and consistency. Add to that more properly fleshed out characters, and you get a series that is far stronger than it's progenitor. The next series, Show By Rock!! Stars!!, will be adding back the cast from the first series, and that could very well be a sign that it will be falling back into its old habits, but the presence of the Mahumairesh!! girls gives me hope that it might have a chance of staying the new, far better course.

Worst of the Year: Digimon Adventure:

This one really hurts to say. What hurt more was how quickly I knew what show I'd be electing for this position. One thing to clarify is that I would not nominate a series that I'd only watched one or two episodes of, that's just not fair. So the award was bound to go to something I had at least dedicated a decent amount of my time too. And in any other year this may have gone to something that was more my “least favorite” or had an ending that disappointed me. But unfortunately I have to be honest and sit here and tell you that the newest entry in the Digimon franchise was easily the worst thing I watched this year. I have been a long time Digimon fan. Ever since I was but a wee lass watching the original Digimon Adventure premiere on Fox Kids at a family reunion, I have always considered the franchise a sort of cornerstone of my anime fandom. So please understand the excitement I had felt when I found out they were doing a full on remake of that flagship series. Imagine how absolutely pumped I was when the bombastic movie-like premiere of Digimon Adventure: wowed us with everything it delivered, and all the promises of what was to come. And then imagine my disappointment, my despair as the show devolved until it showed us what it really was during the finale of the Fake Tokyo arc. I would call it a production meltdown, but considering the precedent that got set back in episode 10 during the already shaky Ultimate Evolution arc, has been so clearly informing everything up to the current episodes in the early 30s, I have to be honest with myself and admit: this is what we were going to get all along from day one. All of the heart that had made the original series so endearing, despite its own flaws, just isn't present here. What you get here is just a non-stop (and I mean non-stop) string of barely related fights with poorly-defined stakes, or sometimes no real stakes at all. It's just one ugly set piece fight after another as the children chase after vaguely implied evils. I think the most damning thing is how much more I could say about just how much this series has let me down. Like I said, this one hurts.

Best Theme-Song of the Year: Night Running (BNA)

My opinion of BNA as a series is complex. But my opinion of its ED, Night Running, is simple: Its a god-damned bop! I could spend this whole section talking about the artistry of the ED animation itself, its fun and creative use of color, the slight variations for certain episodes, the focus on character, or the fact that it was done by an American animation team. I could even talk about the song's importance to the series as a whole and its place in the narrative. I won't though. The fact of the matter is that even without all that, I STILL probably would've picked Night Running as my best of the year because as a song it is just that much my jam. This is the kind of shit I could listen to on repeat for hours, days, weeks, and still keep coming back to it. Don't get me wrong, Ready To is a damn powerful and catchy tune that goes hard, but at the end of the day, I'm a sucker for a soulful pop tune like Night Running. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WWTFfEnMCCc

Best Character: Sayaka Kanamori

This was actually probably the hardest category for me to decide on. It was stuck hard between Eizoken's Kanamori and Akudama Drive's Doctor. I know those are a powerfully different pair in basically every way, but it was specifically for their startling differences that both characters stuck out to me so much. In the end though, it was the poignant rounding out of, and emotional hooks of Kanamori's character that let her triumph over her delightfully two-dimensional opposition. Kanamori already had me from episode one. In a show that I wasn't really worried about the usual diversions of anime ingestion like picking a favorite character, Kanamori sealed herself as “Best-girl” from the word go. I have mad respect for a girl who knows what she wants, and has a clear idea of how she's going to go about getting it (See also: Doctor.) But Kanamori was more than a driving desire for success and money. Underneath her unstoppable ambition there was a very real, very relatable driving impetus. She stood apart, and yet still believably vulnerable and invested in the people she associated with. It was always a blast watching her suffer as the only thing keeping the more creative minds on track, and yet she was never reduced to a simple task master; her love and respect for her friends was always clearly visible. I could go on and on about how Kanamori is a nearly perfect character, but I hope I've said enough already without having to resort to senseless rambling.

Best Moment: Howan confesses her feeling to Himeko (Show By Rock!! Mashumairesh!!)

By the time episode six rolled around, Mashumairesh!! had already shown marked improvements over its progenitor in basically every area. Not only was the story in a better place by focusing on what had worked in the original series, (Ya know the BAND part of this show about bands) but the cast was also doing a good job of standing out from their seniors and feeling more equally rounded out. Where the original series had just kinda been the Cyan show with guest stars, I felt like I had an actual grip on all four of the main girls now. There were however the usual issues that come with a cute-girls-doing-cute-things series, chief among them the “ambiguously gay member of the group who constantly reacts with clear romantic interest towards the main protagonist but the writing will never actually do anything with those feelings” trope. Retoree had spent the better part of the first two seasons fawning over Cyan only for nothing to come of it and, despite the increased focus on all of the girls this time around, it looked like we were going to get the same old song and dance with Himeko's feelings towards Howan. But then the climax of episode six hit and, midst a really intense subplot about Himeko's abandonment complex, Howan comes out with a straight up love confession. And I kept waiting for the usual dead-ends these moments always seem to have. The “I love you! I love the girls too! I love the band!” Or a “I love being with you.” and the dreaded, “I love having you as my most precious friend.” But none of that happened. It was a full on heart-felt, “I love you, Himeko. I want to stay with you forever!” I'm just not used to getting that sort of straightforwardness from my silly little band shows, so I was shocked, but also completely overjoyed. And frankly the series just kept getting better from there. The evolution of their relationship built off that moment, no dreaded resetting of the status quo. I daresay it was on the power of this moment alone that I wanted to include this series in my top five at all. If there was anything I would want other anime to take from Mashumairesh!! it's that it's okay to introduce radical changes to character relationships partway through a season, and it's okay to let characters unequivocally state their feelings for each other. People will respond positively to that earnestness, I promise.

#anime #keep your hands off eizouken!#sayaka kanamori #akudama drive #toilet-bound hanako-kun #kaguya sama wo kataritai #kaguya-sama love is war #dorohedoro #show by rock #show by rock mashumairesh!!#howan #mashima himeko #digimon #digimon adventure:#BNA #Brand New Animal #Night Running

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writingwife-83 · 4 years ago

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My 2020 Sherlolly Self Interview

Thanks for organizing this fun activity @sherlollyappreciationweek! 🎉 I’ll start out with a very brief “about me” section-

I live in the northeast area of the USA, I’ve been married for seventeen years, have one teenage son, and I’m in my *gulp* late thirties now. I do volunteer ministry work and also work part time from home. Among other leisure activities, obviously I love writing! I started writing original fiction when I was a preteen, but I’ve been writing fanfic under the pen name “writingwife83” for over six years now. I discovered fanfic and the world of online fandom after becoming obsessed with BBC Sherlock in 2014 after s3 aired. I read The Full House, fell in love with the whole concept of fanfic, specifically for sherlolly, and couldn’t help but give it a go myself. And as they say, the rest is history!

Below the cut I’ll talk about some of the topics and fics suggested by followers/readers. Buckle up cuz it’s a lot lol...

Ok, first up to be kind enough to give me some feedback is @readstoomuch. You said- “what inspires you. Any story (I love them all!). Who do you love writing? Who is hardest for you? And which is that one story that you had fun doing?”

As for what inspires me, first and foremost it’s the show and characters itself. Watching those two on screen, it’s not hard to be inspired! But beyond that, I find a lot of inspiration in music and art, and just generally in other creative works and people. I think for a while I had my own internal inspiration and no lack of it, but as months dragged into years lol, I have found that the rest of the shippers are invaluable in filling the gaps when I lack inspiration and motivation. Some prompts I’ve gotten from others have taken on a life I never would have expected, and that’s pretty great. I honestly don’t think writing works best as a purely solitary activity. I know myself and although there is an aspect of my writing that will always be “for me,” that’s absolutely not all it is. It’s the fun of creating with others and it’s the fun of sharing with others.

As for who I love writing and who’s hardest, I think I’ve always felt pretty comfortable writing the main characters in Sherlock. I probably especially love writing Sherlock himself because he’s fun to break down and really dig deep into his emotions and thought processes. There have definitely been times some of the side characters have overwhelmed me and made me nervous about conveying their voices accurately. For instance, Mycroft can be tough if it involves pulling him out of his shell in a way that still feels believable and true to character.

That one story I had fun doing? Well there’s no way I can say just one. 😆 As far as reader response, there’s no other fic that can compare to the fun of I Told You So, that’s for sure. But as far as the actual plotting and creating, I think the fics I’ve had the most fun with are the multi-chapters I’ve done since becoming good friends with @thisisartbylexie. Having her as a sounding board, plotting buddy, and editor has absolutely increased my creating fun and has definitely also made me a better writer.

Thanks so much for asking @readstoomuch 🥰

Alrighty, @thisisartbylexie, you asked- if there's a fic that you ever wanted to go back to change in some way, which one would it be and why? Which one do you feel "oh wow, did I write that?" in a super positive way?

Idk how to choose just one fic. There are plenty that could use some changing lol! One I’d like to fix though, would be Pleased to Meet You. I know (because I’ve been told) that there’s inaccuracies in that one seeing as I’m not personally familiar with university settings in the UK. I did actually attempt research and I thought I got the idea, but apparently it didn’t work out terribly well. But the plotting and progression of that fic is one I’ve always been happy with, so I guess I feel like it’s a shame if it came off messy in some general ways and distracted from the rest of it. I like how I was able to weave that one into the canon of the show up to that point. And tbh it actually still fits as a uni backstory for them without any conflicts to the canon. As much as I enjoy canon divergence and AU, I also have a big soft spot for fics that simply connect seamlessly to what we’ve already been given.

As for “oh wow, did I write that?” I think one of my proudest accomplishments has been Zephyr. That fic kinda has it all lol. The tropes, the pining, the romance, the Victorian setting...ugh I love it. And there’s a climactic kiss moment in that fic that’s one of my faves I’ve written. I’m so glad I wrote it because of the Sherlolly Remix Challenge in ‘16, and at your suggestion, Lexie. But I will also be forever sad that I had to release that fic all at once on AO3 once completed. That fic would have been great fun to be writing and posting as I went along! And on top of being happy with the fic itself and how it came out, I’m awfully proud of the fact that you were excited enough about the fic to illustrate it, and that @goodshipsherlolly enjoyed it enough to record it as an audio fic. Honestly, what more could a writer ask for? 🥺

@mizjoely, you said you’d like to hear anything about The Queen’s Man. Okey doke, you got it lol!

I actually went back and read through most of that fic when I got this because it had been a long time since I’d looked at it. I gotta be honest that in hindsight...I’m a little surprised it did as well as it did.😂🙈 As some may remember, it started because I saw a magnificent manip and wanted to write something to go with it, and then because that was well received, somehow it just kept going. I did very little world building and development of characters in that fic. It was largely just one shippy, romantic, pining scene after another lol. At the end I did kinda tie it all in and wrapped the story up ok, but it was definitely one of those self indulgent fics where I didn’t feel like doing the hard parts and really just wanted to write the fun stuff. Don’t get me wrong, I loved writing it, and I’m so glad it got the positive reception that it did! But it just kinda makes me laugh because it goes to show sometimes you don’t know what’s going to do really well. You could agonize over clever plotting and world building and character development etc, and be so super proud of the finished product and all your hard work, but then you share and the response is like “meh.” And then other times you legit just throw something together with barely any careful thought, and the crowd goes wild! But aside from all that, the visuals in my head of that AU are just too drool worthy to me. Molly in Medieval royal attire? Sherlock in dark armor with a Purple Tunic of Sex™️ underneath? The two of them lingering in the dimly lit hallways and rooms of a castle and gazing endlessly in mutual pining? Yes to all.

Thanks for asking @mizjoely 😘

Ok wow, see what I mean? That was long! 🤣 If you read all the way through this whole thing, *Moriarty voice* thank you...bless you. Honestly, this ship is amazing and I don’t think I’ll ever have a writing experience anywhere else like I’ve had here. I’ve seen the other side of things in another fandom now, so I can all the more so confirm that there’s no ship quite like sherlolly. The warmth, reception, and longevity is mind blowing and I’m just awfully happy to have played a part in creating for the beauty that is Sherlock Holmes and Molly Hooper. 💕

#sherlolly #sherlollyselfinterview20 #I spent too much time on this lol #hope some of you enjoy reading it!#I hope I remembered to link everything #there were lots of links to be added lol

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reeesea · 4 years ago

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Something Sweet: Part Eight

~something special~

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

pairing: minsung, han jisung/lee minho

warning: mild language, some alcohol consumption

words: 4.4k

summary: Jisung gets his night out and a new birthday buddy

a/n: This au isnt dead! yay, I hope you enjoy the mess <3

ao3 link

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“Hyung, where are we going?” Jisung tried his best to sigh as loudly and dramatically as possible. “Today was already so long, you could've just left me on the couch tonight.” His whining was largely ignored by his friends to much of Jisung’s despair. He was feeling a little bit drained at the fact the trio had all spent the day in meetings with groups of people, and now was being dragged, his introverted ass to be exact, was being dragged out of their apartment to be around even larger groups of people. Damn his members for both being charismatic bastards with extrovert tendencies.

“Ji, you're literally always complaining that we never go out. Aaand you're right. We never do sooo, here we are.” Changbin had all but peeled Jisung off his blanket pile on the couch and into his nicest pair of jeans and his “least offensive” shirt. According to Changbin of course that meant a sleek black button up, that he's pretty sure Changbin had gifted him some Christmas ago. But of course being Han Jisung he had found a few of his favorite accessories to complete his look.

“Plus something tells me you won't be complaining for too long, once we get there”

“What's that supposed to mean Channie-hyung”

He continued on without giving him a response. They had been walking for only a few minutes, neon filling the street as streams of people made their way through to the various bars and restaurants on the block. The glow of the nightlife was electric, Jisung couldn’t deny it, but he still didn't find it to be what he would call a comforting atmosphere. It definitely had nothing on his blanket cocoon he had going on the couch. Spacing out as Chan led them through the streets, the oldest took an abrupt left into an entrance of a bar, almost hidden by the largest store fronts that occupied either side of it.

As soon as Jisung stumbled through the doorway, a sense of deja vu came over him. Well maybe not deja vu because he had definitely been here before. The mirrored walls and the low lit space was now full of weekend patrons that breathed life into the place that he hadn't realized it was missing the first time he visited. Wait, when had he visited this place?

“Jisung!”

Minho!? Before he could spend any more time traversing his thoughts he looked over to the bar to find Minho smiling brightly at him. Unlike his first visit, Hyunjin was un-uniformed, seated on a stool alongside a giggling Felix, and not behind the bar. Chan and Changbin both shared a look before gently shoving Jisung to move out of the doorway and toward their friends.

“What are you doing here?!” Jisung somehow didn’t think he would be seeing the older this weekend, they had shared similar sentiment over the past week that they were looking forward to a no-plan-weekend.

“What do you mean I work here.” Hyunjin mused sarcastically. Felix hit him, and got up enthusiastically to greet them.

“WE’RE BIRTHDAY TWINS, we HAVE to celebrate” Felix hugged him immediately. Jisung was surprisingly comfortable in his clingy embrace. Something about the disarming nature of the boy made it feel almost natural, and maybe it was. Clearly a bit tipsy already the freckled boy talked animatedly about how excited he was to finally have a friend that was “LITERALLY” his age. Jisung admittedly could relate, and found himself beaming right back at his new companion.

---

Minho hadn’t taken his eyes off the youngest rapper since he ‘walked’, stumbled, through the door. He was initially afraid that Jisung would feel sore about celebrating his birthday with Felix but the bright look in his eyes when they met his, smoothed any of those anxieties.

Last week, Minho was more than surprised to get a text from an unknown number. It turned out just to be Bang Chan looking to plan a get together between the lot of them for the youngest’s birthday. Tragic backstory and all, Chan was sure to elaborate on Jisung’s dreams of going out with his friends.

“He really just wants to be a normal kid ya know, well not a kid exactly, and not normal by any means, but you get my point. To be honest, as hyungs we feel bad for taking that away from him. He's so pure at heart really, and he works so hard, and I know he doesn't sleep enough, but does anyone really? hahaha, anyway...” Minho found that Chan rambled just like Jisung, it was painfully endearing.

Of course, Minho had agreed to let them help coordinate a get together. It was mostly Chan who had his own work cut out for him. Negotiating with their company about last minute free time was a challenge but he just had to reassure their management that everything was in place and promise that they wouldn't do anything “newsworthy” to potentially hurt their debut. Minho reassured them that dispute the host club’s reputation, Sweet Lotus was probably the most secure club in town.

Chan had been frantically messaging Minho just an hour ago, about how they couldn't find Jisung, only to get a message ten minute later apologizing and reassuring him that he was actually just buried on the couch. Chan gave off single parent vibes so strongly, Minho can’t help but let his guard down, and found himself warming up to the 3RACHA leader quickly. He looks rather relieved to have made it to the Sweet Lotus with Jisung in tow. Jisung’s loud but warm laugh filled the air and Chan’s shoulders visibly relaxed with a gentle smile stretched across his face. Minho found his heart settled comfortably in his chest as well.

---

“EXCUSE ME EVERYONE.” Although the statement was only for the ears of the six of them, a few surrounding victims were pulled in by Hyunjin’s dramatic exclamation. “I require a toast for this evening! Even though we haven’t known each other long. THIS night, is a night of celebration, of birthdays, of new friendships, of potential one nigh-”

“Hyunjin!”

“Sorry… Anyway, first ones on me boys lets get it.” dramatically distributing shots of clear liquid they all did a inaugural cheers simultaneously downing the shot. Jisung made a disgusted face that triggered some subtle harassment from Changbin, who pinched his cheeks fondly.

The night now officially blessed by Hyunjin standards, Minho decided it was probably time to actually begin the night’s planned festivities. “While I do enjoy shots of free soju, that's not exactly why we're here. Is it?”

“It's not?” Granted Jisung had no clue why he was in most situations, but he was especially lost having been told nothing prior.

“Come on Sungie, it’ll be fun” Minho took his hand subtly, and led them up a set of stairs near the back of the bar. Soft magenta light flooded the stairwell as they made their way to the second floor. Minho nodded at the tall handsome host at the entrance, allowing them to enter the lounge freely. Upbeat music flooded the room, bodies dancing under other multicolor lights seemed so content it was almost like a scene out of a movie. Pairs of couches laided with expensive looking fabric, and even more expensive looking patrons lined the walls. A light fog dusted the floor, and everything about the room felt intoxicating and indulgent.

Jisung looked up to find Minho’s gaze already on him, warm and inviting as ever. He looked like a perfect match to the pink haze and sweet scents that surrounded him. Minho led the group with such confidence and grace he matched his beautiful environment, it was very clear why he was so popular when he had worked at the Sweet Lotus. He embodied the very image. The self conscious part of his brain wouldn’t let him enjoy the image long though.

Something about him couldn't help but feel like he stuck out. Sure Changbin had dressed him up for their outing, but he still couldn’t help but feel like he didn't belong to be surrounded by people as beautiful as his new friends. 3RACHA wasn’t exactly known for their beautiful charms or dainty visuals. Minho, Felix with his whimsical smile, and Hyunjin with his undaunting charisma were all in their element here. Jisung always had a rough time figuring out his image outside of 3RACHA.

Apparently sensing his anxiety he felt Minho's hand hold on to his firmer, and even Chan left a gentle pat on his head. Already situated themselves in a secluded booth near the back, Changbin had already gone off to order drinks for their table with Hyunjin, Felix was talking to Chan about their shared home town, Sydney. And then there was Minho. Looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a questioning look.

“What, is there something on my face?”

Minho’s giggles somehow sound like bells, Jisung can’t explain why. “No, no you just seem uneasy. I just want to make sure you're actually happy to be here”

“I am I promise! I'm just really surprised, I had a long day and I didn't really know what was happening until we got here, and I’ve never been to a place like this before, and I haven't seen you in a while and, wow let me tell you it's really good to see you.” Suddenly he felt like his face and hands were on fire. His connected hand with Minho’s burned with the realization.

“Also you're still holding my hand! Did you know that? In case you didn't know I just wanted to make sure you knew. Not that I want you to stop I actually really enjoy it, but just in case you like forgot or somet-”

“You're adorable Sungie.” Minho’s eyes remained locked on Jisung with overwhelming fondness. Just ask Jisung, he was definitely overwhelmed. His face continued growing hotter until he saw a hand outstretched with a glass of liquor in front of his face.

“Ji, take the drink and close your jaw you'll thank me later.” Chanbin coaxed the flustered brunette to drink the bitter alcohol he had brought. Tearing away from Minho’s intense stare, he accepted the drink and took a sizable sip from the glass.

“LEE MINHO.” The 3RACHA boys all practically jumped out of their skins at the booming voice. While subtle grins formed on the unbothered roomates.

“Ope, Who told on me?” Minho asked, completely unfazed, looking at his roommate accusingly.

“It wasn't me….” Hyunjin’s lists of excuses died in his throat, as a woman dressed in a sparkling purple dress made her way over to their corner booth, finger already pointing accusingly at Minho.

“How dare you show your face in this place after 3 months, without a WORD.” The woman almost sounded betrayed and hurt through her voice. Still it was obvious that the threatening woman immediately demanded respect with the way she held herself. Although her words were sharp her graceful features didn't deliver much real malice other than signs irritation at the oldest dancer.

“I’m sorry, Noona time got away from me~” Minho flashed his innocent puppy eyes and added a subtle charm to his words that the beautiful woman seemed to be completely immune to.

“Uh huh, and I'll pretend I believe that excuse.” Something akin to a standoff seemed to be occurring between the two.

“But ONLY because I missed seeing your pretty face around here.”

“...Guys, this is Momo-noona she owns Sweet Lotus.” Hyunjin’s attempt to provide the bystanders with some context broke the light tension in the air. Momo shifted her expression to a bright smile that suddenly screamed gentle kindness, void of all the intensity it had previously held at Minho.

Seemingly hoping to aid in the situation Chan jumped in to respond, “Oh well, it's great to meet you, I’m Ch-”

“Oh, don't worry, I know exactly who you are.” The eldest member’s eyes widened and a nervous laugh escaped his lips, not expecting to be recognized. Especially by the semi-threatening woman.

“You're the hometown heroes around here, the next big thing in the music industry hmmm?”

The trio seemed to only be more cemented in their stunned silence. Momo’s smug expression did not last long before transforming into a large smile and welcoming expression. Her aura radiated a welcoming feeling, unmatched, even by her employed hosts.

“Truly, it's my pleasure that I get to host the 3RACHA boys, you'll always be welcomed here.”

“I- uh um, Were flattered really, Thank-” Changbin stumbled out.

“You don't have to Thank me any sweet Changbinnie~ as long as you enjoy yourselves and promise to visit again. I’m happy.” Changbin’s ears glowed red at that, thankfully hidden by the colored lights.

“How do you know us so well? Is Hyunjin gossiping more than he should be?” Jisung poked some fun at the bartender.

“Hey! Confidentiality is our highest priority. I would NEVER!” Hyunjin crossed his arms defensively, sinking further into their booth.

Momo giggled, content with her employee’s loyalty, “Thank you for that Jinnie, but no a friend of Sana is a friend of mine”

“Wait you know Sana-noona?” Jisung was surprised that Sana actually talked about them to her friends, a part of him hoped she was proud to be associated with them.

“Mhm, believe it or not your sweet Sana-nonna is my closest friend. We’re thick as thieves, we were even roommates for a few years when we first arrive in Korea”

“Woah” Changbin was definitely glowing with some pride now at the implied indirect compliments and recognition. Meanwhile Chan was still trying to connect the dots in his head from all of the new information, a cute confused look on his face.

Momo took a moment to lean closer to Jisung’s face. Acknowledging their hands that were still joined. Directing her attention back on Minho with a smirk, “He’s a cutie Lee Know. I’ll give you a pass on abandoning me for months, if this one is the one stealing away from my establishment.”

Minho grew red at the use of his past host name, and personal nickname from Momo. Minho’s nervous laugh erupted out of him. “Aaahhhhh okay Momo-noona thanks! it was great seeing you, ah would you look at that I need another drink. Come with me Hannie.”

Minho was slightly scrambling to escape the booth in embarrassment at Momo’s dramatic encounter with them all. Jisung was pulled in tow from their joined hands.

“Oh okay, it was nice meeting you Momo-ssi.” Jisung used his free hand to wave at their booth before they disappeared into the dancing crowd.

Hyunjin had revived himself from the booth, giggling at his retreating roommate. Felix joined in too, and enjoyed seeing the flustered side of their hyung.

“Is he always that precious. I just have the urge to pinch his cheeks.” Alluding to Jisung, Momo turned to the remaining 3RACHA boys for confirmation.

“We all do.” Chan’s full charming smile and older brother's pride visible on full display.

---

The night continued as “planned”, once the unofficial couple returned from the bar. More alcohol was ordered to sustain the drinking games that Hyunjin had spearheaded into teaching the rest of them. Being the current university student apparently was enough qualification for the rest of them to follow without any resistance.

“Okay and so once your turn is done you pass your glass to the next person and they have to go.” Although full of enthusiasm the rules didn't make sense, nor could anyone properly follow them, so it ended up just being Hyunjin yelling at the each of them when they should or shouldn't drink.

“CHANGBIN they won on your turn, so that means you do a shot!”

“What I- Okay hand me the bottle.” Without even pouring a glass, he shot back an acceptable amount of soju for Felix to drunkenly cheer from beside him.

“Yay Changbin!!! Join me on my journey to blackout.”

“Lix baby, that should not be your goal.”

“It never is.” Felix sighed at his hyungs concerns, but not before taking a sip from his fruity cocktail he had ordered earlier. Jisung had an identical cocktail one that he had finished quickly. Felix had originally ordered them so they could “match for their celebration”. No one could ever say no to Felix, and that remains the only thing that makes him truly dangerous.

Overall, it was a mess, but all of them finished the game substantially more tipsy when they started. Jisung was definitely starting to feel the effects of the empty bottles and glasses around him. He felt a little numb but just enough to be more comfortable and accepting of the new atmosphere. Having not expected any of this tonight, he definitely found himself surprised that they all had gotten through the large number of bottles that the uniformed waitress had brought them not even an hour ago.

The buzzed feeling in his body didn't make him any less aware of his company though. Felix's bubbly personality comforted and uplifted the whole group. Changbin ended up being a relatively heavy drinker, having lost the most rounds during their games, and became more animated as the night went on. Chan was smiling almost non-stop and it made Jisung glad to see his oldest hyung relax and enjoy a night out, after working so hard for so long. Hyunjin’s laugh would echo through each conversation making the environment warm and fun. Jisung never would have thought that the fabled “night out” trope would actually feel relaxing. He couldn't help but smile to see his hyungs and his new friends become closer. So much of his life has shifted since meeting Minho.

Minho’s hand had been disconnected from his still they returned but they still sat knee to knee in the booth. The shared warmth of their legs and the mindless fiddling of fingers when Minho would reach over to play with the frayed strings on the holes of his jeans, kept the content feeling of butterfly wings steadily in his stomach. Jisung felt full of bliss as well as soju.

Minho was mostly focused on all the group’s conversations and the liquid level of his glass, but every so often would sneak glances beside him to make sure Jisung was still smiling. Sometimes staring back, sometimes not but Minho wanted to make sure the other was enjoying his birthday celebration. The smile that had been plastered on Jisung’s face and his infectious laugh that flooded the room, was enough to reassure the older.

Minho managed to stay just relatively tipsy for most of the night but the rest of his roommates did not seem to be as in control of their drinking as he was tonight. Hyunjin had descended into his sleepy contemplative state of drunk while Felix was practically buzzing with electricity as he talked off the 3RACHA members’, and anyone who would listen’s, ear off.

Drawing back in to see how Jisung was doing he found that the younger boy’s eyes were already on him. A heart shaped smile spread across his face as their eyes met.

“Before you give me those dopey eyes again. Yes, Minho-hyung I am having a good time and have been since the last time you checked.”

Minho forced his mouth to close after being caught. He was about to deny his accusation when Jisung just reached for his hand and held it smiling, actively shutting the other up. Suddenly very distracted by the way the neon lights bounced off the others' faces to leave it practically glowing. Minho had always found himself curious of how Jisung could be so breathtaking and still act like he didn't know it. Jisung laughed at Minho’s expression, and who was he to not join him. He would never be able to deny that the younger’s laugh was irresistible.

“Oh my god I love this song, come dance with meeee” A loud, very drunk Felix shouts, as the sunshine boy practically pulls Changbin, also a rather enthusiastic drunk, and Minho toward the dance floor. The inhuman strength of the younger when he is intoxicated is enough to somehow get his other two companions to their feet. Minho flashes an apologetic glance and an extra squeeze to Jisung’s hand at being physically yanked from their little moment.

Jisung, understanding enough, just laughs at Felix’s drunk antics and motions for them to go ahead. Leaving him at the booth with a drunk Chan who is currently holding some “deep” conversation with a very tipsy Hyunjin. Seems Chan’s dad-like charms had gotten the princely boy to open up to him. This night had definitely ended up different than Jisung had first though but he'd be lying to say he wasn’t enjoying all of it.

“Han Jisung.”

Jisung looked up to find Sweet Lotus’s owner giving him an inviting expression. He couldn’t lie that Momo did not scare him a little. But he would say that if anything he just respectfully found her to be intimidating.

“Oh hai.” Jisung tried his best to sober up and put on a friendly face.

“Would you come with me for a moment?” Jisung nodded and got up from their table following the woman to a somewhat quieter area of the clubs open concept near some standing tables.

“So. I’m happy to see you are what's keeping my Lino so busy.” Her friendly smile grew wide.

“What me? No Minho has just been working hard on his other job. He also has auditions and dance and everything.”

“Hmmm, I don't know. Minho has always had a lot on his plate, but I’ve never seen him actually look this happy.”

“Really?” Jisung had never really considered how much Minho could have changed because of him. He didn't know much of Minho’s past. Before they had talked he was simply the nice attractive waiter he had given his number to.

Jisung’s shock was clearly evident on his face, and Momo’s eyes softened at the confused, small, and slightly tipsy boy in front of her.

“Really I mean it, and if anyone would know it's me.” Jisung relaxed visibly, but still held on to his apprehension.

“Jisung, I know you're a good kid. Sana’s told me a lot about you boys and she really swears by it. That you're something special, and I can see it too.” Jisung’s heart lifted in his chest a little with pride for his group. But Momo’s expression remained serious.

“But to me, Minho is truly something special, and I feel like you already know that”

“I knew immediately.” He nodded aggressively, and spoke freely with his filters gone due to the alcohol. Momo giggled at Jisung’s honesty.

“You're such a sweetheart Jisung, but I want to give you some advice about Minho.”

Jisung nodded enthusiastically.

“Minho may be the shining gem he seems to be, but he's also fragile. He's not always as confident as he appears, and can be really stubborn.”

Momo’s expression grew somber for a moment before continuing, “What I’m trying to say is look out for him. Please. He’s placed a lot of faith in you already. So be sure to take care of him, and don't let him push you away. He's a fool with his emotions, especially when he's scared.”

Jisung could feel the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders, but it was a weight he wanted to be worthy of bearing for Minho.

“I’m trusting you here Jisung-ah, Minho stopped letting me take care of him a long time ago, and I'm afraid he's been on his own for longer than he should to be. I would love to see you continue to make him happy.” Momo’s smile was full of fondness now, but something about it was still slightly somber.

Jisung didn't want to let her trust in him go to waste. “I always want to be by Minho-hyung’s side, I promise to do my best Momo-ssi”

Momo laughs with her slightly disarming giggles, her expression visibly relaxing back into a friendly smile. “Sana’s right you really don’t know how powerful you are.”

“What do you mean?” Jisung was confused at the sudden change in conversation but he found Momo’s change in demeanor to be comforting that she believed in him, at least a little bit, to heed her warnings.

“She means you're too cute for your own good.” Minho voiced from just behind Jisung, making his head turn quick enough to catch Minho draping his arm around the younger’s shoulders.

“Noona are you done terrorizing my Sungie now?”

“I would never! Right Jisung~” Momo winked her eyes playfully in response.

Jisung tried his best to cover up his confusion, and flashed his most convincing innocent puppy dog eyes, “Yeah hyung we were just talking.”

“About me I hope.” Minho giggled at them both, only slurring his words slightly. Turning his head toward Jisung, leaving barely two inches between their faces. But alcohol has a funny way of erasing their usual personal boundaries.

“Well I'm stealing you away now, less talky and more dancy for the birthday boy.” Minho giggled more and Jisung felt his heart leap in response, as he moved the two of them toward the dance floor.

“Have fun boys~” Momo waved and watched them disappear into the crowd with a hopeful smile on her face.

---

The night progressed full of dancing, longing stares, and being too close to each other for it to be considered friendly. Eventually the pair’s roommates had headed home or disappeared off for the night, leaving Minho and Jisung alone in the pink neon lights of the Sweet Lotus. Jisung’s night out had been everything he could’ve hoped for and more. It took more effort than either of them would like to admit to let go of each other's hand once they had to depart for the night.

Almost every part of Jisung was screaming for him to not let the other leave, and that he should stay. But both of them knew that the morning would just bring them more work, that sadly didn't leave room for long morning’s together.

But If Jisung was only able to let go of Minho’s hand after the older had to let it go in order to cup his cheek instead, and give him with a gentle kiss goodnight, that was between the two of them as far as Jisung was concerned. And if Jisung went to bed smiling like a fool with red cheeks and red lips then that was for only him to know. And if Minho’s smile mirrored Jisung’s while he stayed up thinking about pink lights and heart shaped smiles, then that was only his to know.

-----

Thank you for reading ily <3

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

#skz fics #stray kids au #stray kids fic #stray kids #minsung #han jisung #lee minho #leeknow #skz leeknow #skz han

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pens-swords-stuff · 5 years ago

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Happy STS! Can I ask you as a famous fanfiction writer, how do you go about capturing characters you like and want to write but can't seem to capture right on the page?

Oh my gosh, me, a famous fanfiction writer? I’m really not, but I’m super flattered that you think I am!

I’m actually not too great at writing existing canonical characters — I mostly write OC fanfiction for purely self-indulgent purposes, and avoid writing canon characters as much as possible.

That being said, now that I’m writing a fanfiction with no OCs in sight, I have a few strategies to help me when I’m struggling!

This definitely turned into more of an advice post than a Storyteller Saturday ask, whoops!

Re-engage in the source material

Obviously, one of the easiest ways to get a refresher on the character is to re-engage in the source material. Rewatch that TV show/movie, reread the book, replay that game, etc.

I find that it’s helpful to actively engage in the source material, rather than passively. Instead of just enjoying it, engage in it in Writer Mode. Really look at the character and how they interact with their surroundings and the people around them. Take note of their habits, their speech patterns, and how they move. How do they act around people they like, around people they don’t like, around stranger? Examine the important points in their character development arc, and dissect it. What worked? What didn’t work? Why did it have such a large impact on that character? Try to figure them out as if they were your own original character, back when you were still piecing them together.

Make a character cheat sheet

Some larger fandoms have really great resources, like massive, detailed wikia pages with every single detail about everything that’s ever happened. Other fandoms are smaller, or are just not as wikia-oriented as some others so information online might be sparse.

Regardless of the availability of information is available in that fandom, I find it really helpful to make my own personal cheat sheet full of information that is important to me.

Here are some things that I include in my cheat sheets:

A general timeline of their life, with quotes and page numbers/time stamps when appropriate

An inventory of general items that they carry around that has been mentioned in the source material

A list of physical character traits that have been mentioned/shown in the source material, including common articles of clothing

Quotes from the character that they say a lot, or I feel really captures the way they speak, or who they are

Excerpts of scenes that I feel are really important to look back on

Other details from the source material that I think are important

Practice writing them in the source material

When I say this, I mean actually go through the source material, pick a scene with that character and write it out in your own words.

If it’s a TV show, movie, video game, or some other visual medium, transcribe that scene into words. Write it out like you would in a novel; add their inner monologue, describe their quirks, add dialogue tags to whatever they say.

It’s a little bit trickier if the source material is a book since the prose is already there. When the source material is a book, I swap perspectives. If the perspective in the original story is from the character you’re practicing with, I write the scene from another character’s perspective. If the perspective is from someone else, I rewrite that scene from the perspective of the character I’m practicing with.

This is a really good way to practice getting the canonical character in your own words, because you’re using actual canon to practice — they literally cannot be out of character here.

Read other fanfictions with that character

Everyone has a different interpretation of existing canonical characters, and that’s really cool! It’s totally okay to have your own version too.

If you’re feeling stuck on how to write a character, try reading some other fanfictions for that fandom and see how other writers portray that character. Their character interpretation might be different from yours, but it can definitely help open you up to new possibilities! At best, it might make a light bulb go off in your head. At worst, it can help diversify your idea of that character, and maybe make your idea of them a little bit more flexible.

Also I find reading other fanfictions in that fandom can really inspire me in general, so bonus points for that.

Practice, practice, practice!

Write drabbles about them, even if it might not end up in your fanfiction! Put them in a completely different AU. Have them interact with your own original characters. Find some prompts you like and write them with that character. Explore them like you would explore your own original character! The more you write them, the more you’ll be able to make them your own. Sometimes, all it takes it a lot of practice until they ‘click’.

Good luck!

I now have an updated FAQ and Ask Guidelines for Writing Advice, please check those out first if you have a question about writing or Writeblr!

Ask Guidelines | FAQ | Advice Masterlist

#writing #writeblr #writing advice #writing help #writing tips #fanfiction #fanfiction advice #fanfiction help #undine answers stuff #storyteller saturday #undine gives advice #writingonesdreams-main

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lucarioisinthevoid · 4 years ago

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Oh henry! im here to help you a bit on this journey through hell. have you heard about a death coin? they cost 10 faztokens! here, lets just set Golden freddy to 1 so you can get used to this mechanic. I believe you can get used to this very quickly! also hi luci ily platonically v much.

(If you were Impostor in Among Us, I’d let you vent in front of me and never tell <3 Also while what you’re going after is totally canon, it’s a red herring, will make sense to literally nobody except one specific friend and is pure self-indulgence, so uuuuuh, feel free to skip this one)

“Yes, I have already heard of those.” Henry raised an eyebrow. “I even used one of them. They are rather intuitive in their design- though I suppose I appreciate your help.” With only Golden Freddy out and about, it was a rather quiet night, time for him to think. Frankly, he would feel bad about harming Fredbear. Even in this odd suit form, it was still… his suit. … yes, indeed, it was hardly even Fredbear at all, at least not how the children had portrayed their savior. Just a dirty, mistreated suit. But it was STILL his suit. Hell, how abandoned it was- it was quite upsetting to him, despite everything. Part of him wished he could make the being stop being hostile in order to give it a good scrub- Well, perhaps the coin could aid with that. He wasn’t even sure if it did the same thing for every machine, so trying it out would be worth it. The coins were quickly gathered, seeing as as long as he was looking at the screen, the suit left him alone, most of the time… and even if the creature entered, it would not attack. At least it kept its mainly peaceful nature from before. A lot else about it had changed- not visually, but in the atmosphere it gave off. Old and dusty, it was soulful, but so tired and washed out. No child he had ever met had a soul like that, no matter how battered and bruised they have been by the marks of fate. And if they did, they weren’t attached to anything for long, melting into the walls, finding their peace. This creature held offensive abilities on par with Charlie’s psychokinetic talents, as well as the defensive ability to vanish at will, as Fredbear always had and he was as silent as- The dog. Alas, for now it seemed to be his prison warden. Maybe eradicating it would even give him the chance to leave… Finally, enough coins were together. The procedure was as easy as confusing- he bought the coin and it showed up in the corner on the screen, as always. Great. Now how would he use it in the office…? Pulling down the monitor, the suit was nowhere to be found, yet- A silver coin on his table. Huh. Slowly he picked it up, letting it sit in his hand. It felt hot and every second he held it, it was getting worse and worse, to a point where Henry wondered if he was the one who would be disintegrated now. Dazed he watched the coin shine and glow, not really capable of lowering his hand and putting it down- It was as though he wasn’t in control of his own body anymore, as though he had accidentally left it in every way except the eyes, completely enraptured in the silver shimmer- Until he snapped out of it. Peeling off the coin from the palm of his hand, he looked at the brandmarked, crossed out D that was now visible within it. A chuckle broke out of his throat. Almost hysterical. Friendship with Dave ended. Now murdering is my best friend. God his head was a dizzy mess, even though ventilation was doing fine. A hat. On the table. Black. Reaching out, Henry put it on- it felt like the only right thing to do. Time to get this thing done. Pulling the monitor up and down, he waited for the bear to dare show his face- There he was. For a split second he looked into its tired, black eyes, filled with nothing, nothing that he would be able to recognize, then flipped the coin towards him. “Fetch.” To his surprise It did. Easily grabbing the coin out of the air. The creature stood up, shining golden- No, not SHINING. The- the opposite. It seemed to consume the light around it, plunging everything into darkness, so that only the golden fur seemed to be there, a burning contrast to everything else- However, Henry couldn’t really make any judgement more than that, as he was abruptly picked up by the throat and screamed at, a scream that he had never heard a machine make before. Loud enough to shatter eardrums, primal enough to send cold fear through anyone’s spine and abnormal enough to echo- as though there was NOTHING around them, nothing but tall, cold, smooth walls- As if nothing he saw was real- Abruptly he had been flung downwards, his head painfully colliding with the floor and dazing him for a moment, while the giant figure loomed over him, leaning down to him, finally speaking. Hoarse and deep, it sounded like a growl, yet it was barely more than a weak, jumbled whisper. “… THERE WAS MORE FANTASY AND FUN WHERE I CAME FROM…” Struggling to keep his mind together, Henry stared up into the glowing small dots above him. What- What was this creature? It was- Unfamiliar- Strange- “You are… not… from here-“ Coughing, he tried to sit up, his arms feeling weirdly numb. “You are from- elsewhere. How. Who brought you here-“ The voice was too adult- and it wasn’t the detective, the detective had been the only case of an adult human managing to remaining without any outside help- so, WHO was this?! And where did it come from?! Once more Fredbear picked him up, the body shaking with rage, grabbing him right by the head carelessly. “Say it- say what you are- where you are from- are you some sort of- angel!?” The creature paused, but it was hard to see what its- his- face looked like. “No, no, you are too far- away from god in this place- are you a demon?” The grasp around his head instantly tightened, turning into blinding pain, enough to make him bite off the tip of his tongue in an attempt to suppress of any sort of noise. Blood, pain and numbness made his words less understandable, but his mind was buzzing loudly, filled with thoughts and concepts, that he wanted answers to, that he wanted to test, that he HAD to speak out- The only one in THIS suit, the only true Fredbear that had ever been around- “Are you- me-” From somewhere else?! Again there was a small pause- Then the bear growled once more. “YOU CAN GO AND REST NOW. I WILL ASSUME YOU HAVE BEEN CURIOUS, NOT MALICIOUS. IF YOU WILL TRY TO HARM ME AGAIN… IT WON’T BE SO QUICK.” As Henry faded, a child’s offended voice sounded. “What?! Goldie, that’s all?! I thought you would-!” When Henry woke up, he abruptly breathed in, a sense of panic shortly covering his mind, as for a second he thought he was underwater, drowning- But as his eyes started to focus on the tv screen in front of him, the rest of his body managed to calm down too, enough that he could stand up, with shaky legs. The fear disappeared quickly, only confusion remaining. Nothing bad had happened. Or rather- nothing too bad. Turning he eyed the suit who was sitting on the couch, eyes empty- not shining anymore- and dirty once again… but this time radiating a sort of intense anger. For a moment Henry considered trying to pick up where they left off- … however, for now he didn’t feel quite… ready to risk that rage once more. His actions had been calm. But there was something, something that none of the five senses could perceive, regardless of how hard they tried, not together, not alone… … and it was warning him STRONGLY against approaching this being. Regardless of what it was- it surely wasn’t him, he wouldn’t do this to himself, he just hadn’t been thinking- it was not something that should be taken lightly. The threat had been real. And it seemed to at least partially capable to influence the world around him. Fall back, overthink. He would figure a way out to use this. Somehow.

#henry miller #Henry in hell #cameo from #NOT my AU #but once you die timelines dissolve very fast #At least I have the excuse that this cameo character is basically just a minor guard and not the big mastermind so-#'mastermind'#pft

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mbti-notes · 5 years ago

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Hello mbti-notes. I'm a very, very unhealthy INTJ. I have come to the realisation that I constantly try to deny and repress my emotional needs whenever I face obstacles in the world. As in, for example, if people find me unattractive, I detach from that triggering context and try to hamper down my need to be loved. If my mother treats me in a nasty way, I detach from her and go on a corner and try to hamper my need to feel approved by her. (continues, this is part 1)

[con’t: If I see that my classmates are better or more competent than me, I avoid contact with them & avoid going to class, and I don’t try harder with the materials or try to be more competent, I repress the need for that as if “I didn’t want it anyway” and “it doesn’t matter”, “makes no difference”, “it’s not meaningful”, but actually, and I can see it now, these things mean the world to me. I notice myself constantly thinking about what people have that I won’t have, like a successful high paying career. I dropped out of law school (I got into a good university) and can’t deal with the fact that I chose to switch to a more low paying, less competitive career to pursue. I feel like this choice was also the same dynamic of me pushing down my need for high achievement in the face of insecurity and obstacles. People around me see me as a wimp, someone who doesn’t contribute, doesn’t take responsibility, doesn’t integrate to the group, honestly it feels like people see me as a child and completely incapable, despite the fact that they do sometimes say I’m very intelligent (they mean academic intelligence, but not “real” intelligence). I feel like people treat me condescendingly and don’t take me seriously. I also feel an utter lack of life direction, I have no goals and no plans, and I’m at a point where I don’t give a sh*t and I’ve been more socially impulsive (like jokester behavior, class clown) and reckless about my reputation, missing deadlines, appointments, loosing track of what’s going on around me and what I need to do. Is this congruent with Fi loop and Se grip? I still don’t see how I can use Ni+Te to grow out of it, I can see it in the abstract, but not concretely.]

No, it is not at all congruent with Fi loop and Se grip, which is why Te is not the solution, in fact, trying to develop Te is very likely to exacerbate the problem. Your thought patterns fit quite perfectly with: unhealthy Ni (faulty/perfectionistic beliefs), overindulgence of Fe (constant focus on impressing/approval, low self-worth, guilt, shame), Ti loop (harmful rejection of feelings, lack of self-awareness, destructive attitude), and Se grip (extreme loss of control, recklessness, superficiality). Why do you believe that you are intj? Did you undergo a proper type assessment? If not, you should. There is a clear warning in the Type Dev Guide that you should not take advice of the wrong type.

Every decision you have made is part of Ti loop in denying your true feelings, to the point that life becomes meaningless, i.e., you must come to reject everything in the world because everything eventually serves to remind you of your “worthlessness”. If you are F, constantly acting contrary to your feelings is the direct road to despair. You don’t understand the difference between feelings and emotions, so you end up ignoring important feelings that would guide you in the right direction and then indulging the resultant negative emotions in the wrong direction. Do you honestly believe that your decisions have been rational? If you are in Ti loop, you will believe it for quite some time, and it will require hitting rock bottom or a personal disaster for you to realize how irrational you’ve really been. You say that you have a need to achieve (Ni), why do you not respect that need and even fail on purpose? You say that you have a need to be loved and approved of (Fe), why do you purposely act in ways that destroy social connection or get disapproval? You keep trying to lay the blame “out there” in how people judge/perceive you when it was actually your own bad decision making all along that brought you here - this is the hallmark of deep-seated Ti loop.

The way to get out of Ti loop is to finally take responsibility for your life instead of blaming something/someone else for your feelings of guilt and failure. Oftentimes, unhealthy INFJs don’t want to try because they are afraid that they’ll fail to live up to their self-imposed “ideal” and then have no excuses left to ward off the shame/guilt that they’re running from. It’s very easy to think highly of yourself when your success/greatness exists only in your own mind and you’re able to fool yourself into believing that it’s the world holding you back (Ni-Ti loop), but it’s hard to keep up the arrogance when you’re constantly slapped with hard evidence of your social failures (Fe-Se reality checks).

In many ways, you still have the mentality of a toddler. You expect that everything should be like your fantasy, i.e, the one place where you don’t have to feel bad about yourself. You haven’t yet realized that the reason you feel bad is precisely because you wrongly believe that being “special” is the answer to your low self-worth, so you fish for praise/approval by proving your “specialness” in childish ways, only to fail often because your motives are fake or superficial. A truly successful person is HUMBLE and works hard to build a good life for themselves. They don’t waste time thinking about being “special”, rather, they simply work hard to actualize their potential because they want to make the most out of their life. You are arrogant, not humble, because you fear being ordinary/nothing and thus mistake humility for mediocrity. You are obsessed with feeling “better than” because you judge yourself as “less than”. Successful people don’t waste time with these sorts of petty “status” calculations because they’re not chasing empty markers of success to cover up low self-worth.

To find purpose and meaning in life for infjs is a simple matter of nurturing loving relationships and making positive contributions to whatever environment they happen to be in. Perhaps you live in a socially/emotionally harsh environment, which is not your fault, but you can either choose to play the dog-eat-dog game, or you can choose to live a good life for the sake of your own well-being. So far, you seem to keep choosing the former, which means that you must try to be “top dog” in order to call yourself “worthy”. Do you not realize that “worthiness” isn’t about proving yourself better than people? Do you honestly think that something as pure as true happiness can come from something so impure as judging and categorizing people according to their lack of “worth”?

A truly worthy person is one who actually lives a morally good life. Living a morally good life is hard work and it isn’t likely to get you immense praise and recognition. If the only reason you want to be “good” is to alleviate the shame that you feel for low social status, then you’ve missed the point entirely. A mature person takes responsibility for their life by asking themselves what kind of person they want to be and then they work hard to become it. Their sense of good comes from the self and emanates positively out into the world through morally congruent action. An immature person asks what behaviors will get them praise/approval and then they try to be like that (i.e. level 1-2 ego development). Their sense of good is easily twisted and destroyed by social pressures.

Looping infjs often look down on others for being superficial in craving social status, but it is they themselves who actually care about status the most due to low self-worth - that’s why they must work so hard to convince themselves that they don’t care, which only makes them care even more. Ti loop turns you into a barking hypocrite and that is where the self-loathing actually comes from. You harm yourself by denying yourself and your goodness to chase after feelings of superiority - very common problem among NFs. To chase after feelings of superiority necessitates that you constantly think of yourself as inferior, which makes it impossible to have healthy self-esteem. How can you be happy when you constantly treat yourself so badly? As long as you think in terms of oversimplistic dichotomies of superiority/inferiority or strong/weak, then you also cannot have healthy relationships. Healthy relationships are based on equality between people and mutual respect and appreciation. In short, you sabotage your own happiness with your obsession on being “special” (read: superior), because this makes it impossible for you to develop Fe properly.

All of your functions need development. Healthy Ni means to always act with your mind attuned to visualizing future implications - yet you choose not to care about the consequences of your decisions nor fight for your future self’s well-being. Healthy Fe means to carve a space for yourself to belong and contribute everywhere you go - yet you choose not to because you can’t tell the difference between praise and love and then chase after the wrong feelings to cover up your insecurities. Healthy Ti means to make rational judgments and decisions according to the facts - yet you stubbornly hang on to faulty beliefs about “how the world works” and even take twisted pride in flouting the rules you don’t like, intent on believing that they don’t apply to you despite negative repercussions. Healthy Se means to adapt well to change by embracing it and making the most of what you have - yet you fear change and run from it with all your life. I’m not a magician, I can’t wave a wand and change you. You can’t depend on others to tell you what to do. You have to commit yourself to being a better person and make better decisions by making better use of your functions, starting from top to bottom, because you care about living life well for your own sake.

**If you suffer from serious depression and/or anxiety and it hampers your ability to live life normally, I strongly suggest that you get professional help.

#infj #ti loop #se grip #guilt #shame #nf #ask

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dahniwitchoflight · 5 years ago

Text

yeah that didnt last long LOL

“I... You know what? You've convinced me. There's no way I'm fucking with this shit. I'm nobody's puppet, of course. But this was going to be a little fun we had together. A callback to simpler times. I just wanted to play a game, and you were going to be part of it. That submission box was my olive branch, dipped tentatively and at arms length into the trash furnace of creative potential known as 'Online'. But I should have known better. People think you can run a story like this? This must be just about the stupidest idea anyone has ever come up with. I'll just have to make up the commands myself from here on out. Seemed to work ok for the other guy. “

at least hes sort of self aware that hes doing anything different from the guy he thinks of as a villain

“Plants are basically the ideal friends. They don't constantly question your decisions, or try and undermine your authority, or suggest that perhaps you should try talking about your feelings every once in a while. Plants lie down in the dirt and take it, metaphorically speaking. “

Yeah in case you fooled for a moment, definitely villain

Oh :D at least Terezi seems to be joking and a bit of a foil for Dirk as she can also control the narrative a touch it seems, i hope anyway, so hard to tell with these narrative controlling types

No it seems to be impying that Terezi as a Mind player is on the same sort of narrative Turf as Dirk here, but that this is sort of home base for her, while Dirk is in actuality out of his element in controlling words and narrative

Probably because it has been seen to be a purely mental state in terms of the characters who experience it, and even in Homestuck1 Terezi did have little nods that she was sort of aware of the text

“4ND WH3N 1T COM3S TO TH3 4SP3CTS, OPPOS1NG P41RS 3FF3CTIV3LY D3FIN3 34CH OTH3R ON 4 FUND4M3NT4L L3V3LTEREZI: M1ND 4ND H34RT, T1M3 4ND SP4C3...TEREZI: TH3YR3 4LL TWO S1D3S OF TH3 S4M3 CO1NTEREZI: OR I GU3SSTEREZI: TW3LV3 S1D3S OF TH3 S4M3 S1X CO1NS?“

:DD I somehow feel like I’ve been almost half quoted! lolno

But really I LOOOOVE that its being clearly stated the nature of opposing Aspects, if one aspect is one thing, then it’s opposite simply is not that thing.

12 sides of the same six coins, Easy Peasy, very simple to get

hah yup Dirk’s Homestuck2 Opposite day story is gonna be mostly long rants with smatterings of panels, in opposition to how Homestuck was a lot of panels with smatterings of text

“ For the sake of precedent, I'm saying that we can cloak the visuals entirely and continue with narration alone, replacing the panel with a block of text like this, which we can call a “prattle” from now on. “

yeah Im not doing that lol these are just self indulgent rants

“DIRK: Terezi please stop talking right now.

TEREZI: D1RK HOLY SH1T

TEREZI: W

Terezi stops talking immediately, her mind suddenly free of any and all inclination to take a look at what's behind the curtain. What curtain? In fact, she is quite certain there have never been, and never will be, any objects covered by fabric located anywhere in the storeroom.“

well that was uncomfortable as fuck but still quite in character for the guy who said Plants were the best kind of friend because they didnt fight back.

Give your friends juuust enough free will until it becomes inconvenient to you then force them to do what you want, yeah thats not repulsive at all.

So, theses kinds of abusive behaviours are just inherent to Dirk then, even if simply because he’s just the kind of guy who prioritizes himself and his own comfort and control above others and feels like he can force other people to be and act like the kind of people he wants them be whenever he feels like it, no consideration at all for if they want to do shit that has nothing to do with him or worse, go against him.

“ Terezi stops talking immediately, her mind suddenly free of any and all inclination to take a look at what's behind the curtain. What curtain? In fact, she is quite certain there have never been, and never will be, any objects covered by fabric located anywhere in the storeroom. “

I like how its really hammering it in through all of these references that the exact same outcome would have been inevitable in this scenario no matter who was the author of homestuck, it always would have been a communal work that turned into a story of one mans design, and no matter how good that design would be, one man is simply not the sum of an entire fandom, and if he were, he would be formless and identityless with no consciousness of his own.

“ DIRK: Is there nothing I can say that'd take the weight off your mind?”

you mean is there no thought i can insert into your narrative that would make you stop caring about what you acre about

ohh and now im distracted by juicy lore bits

“ DIRK: We scanned for Sburban technology, so we know for sure this is the right planet. Wheels are already in motion and all that. “

they been scanning for sburban tech on distant planets, so they ARE planning on doing some sort of session, another sort of universe remake, but to what end? you already did that with earth, whats so different about this time you ask?

Well, theyre gonna remake the story (or try to) not just a universe by using or enhancing the sburb tech

That was good :D im excited to see more!

I am however, not excited to devolve into random midnight updates that interrupt my sleep schedule because im too old for that shit and also i have a steady job with regular hours now so i have an actual sleep schedule now (so hopefully thats another thing that Not!Homestuck^2 decides to be all opposite day on...hopefully..)

but ive already ruined that for tonight >.>

#Homestuck 2 #Homestuck #Homesquared

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chiseler · 5 years ago

Text

Mitchell Leisen: How’s About It?

Mitchell Leisen was a major American film director. He belongs in the first rank, not the second tier, where he has often been placed by those who value the scripts he was given by Preston Sturges and Billy Wilder and Charles Brackett more than what he actually did with those scripts. Leisen’s name was usually written in sloping cursive in his opening credits, and that set the mood for what he had to offer. His was a gentle style, a deliberately unobtrusive style, smooth and gliding, attentive to nuances, visual and emotional.

Leisen made a point of nearly always moving the camera only when it is following a character who is moving right along with it, and the edits in his movies are as invisible as possible. He made three films that are undisputed classics: Easy Living (1937), written by Sturges, Midnight (1939), written by Wilder and Brackett, and Remember the Night (1939), written by Sturges. All three of these classic Leisen movies are partly about pretending to be something you’re not in order to move up or over into another social atmosphere or class and take on a new identity, and this theme is something that always interested Leisen particularly.

He got his start making costumes and dressing sets for Cecil B. DeMille, and he also made costumes for Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks. That training shows through in his later work, that sense of fantasy and beauty for its own sake. Leisen had a fetish for absolute authenticity when he did period pictures, and he took this fetish to nearly Erich Von Stroheim lengths if he had the money to spend. Remember the peacock headdress that he designed for Gloria Swanson in DeMille’s Male and Female (1919), or the sexy harem pants he put on Fairbanks for The Thief of Bagdad (1924), or the barely-there garments he designed for Claudette Colbert in The Sign of the Cross (1932) and you can get a first sense of Leisen’s aesthetic: hopeful, fantastical, erotic. And he was a pretender himself on some of these early movies because he was very skillful at making sets and crowd scenes look more opulent than they actually were given some of the budgets he had to work with.

He took the reins from nominal director Stuart Walker for two films that proved his range: Tonight Is Ours (1933), a high comedy that begins with a sexy masked ball, and The Eagle and the Hawk (1933), as grim and concentrated an anti-war film as you will find from this era. Leisen next graduated to prestige pictures like Cradle Song (1933) and Death Takes a Holiday (1934), with its high-flown Maxwell Anderson script. Leisen was fond of Death Takes a Holiday all his life, and he even wanted to re-make it in the late 1940s, but it has not held up as well as some of his lesser-known pictures from the 1930s.

After Murder at the Vanities (1934), a backstage movie with some odd musical numbers, Leisen took flight with three pictures that demonstrated the full scope of his talent. What makes a really great director, a major director? The ability to take a poor script, like the one Leisen was given for Behold My Wife! (1934), and make it into something that moves like a dream and seems inevitable. While you watch Behold My Wife!, there is a double consciousness of how outlandish and slapdash the plot and dialogue are and how Leisen transcends this through pacing, framing, and staging, so that there is always something to delight the eye. Leisen movies generally have a difficult-to-describe kind of creamy look, as if every person and table and chair were covered in the same sort of protective satin sheen.

He used a similarly fast, super-controlled pace for Four Hours to Kill! (1935), another backstage movie where Leisen himself plays the orchestra leader but you never see the numbers on stage. A kind of musical proto-noir, this movie depends on Richard Barthelmess, who is playing a criminal waiting to be taken to jail, and Leisen is alert to Barthelmess’s needs and sensitive to his big scene, where his character talks about his unhappy past. And then Leisen was given a script (by Norman Krasna) and two stars, Carole Lombard and Fred MacMurray, that were particularly congenial to his style, and the result was his first classic, Hands Across the Table (1935), a rather anguished comedy about love and the urge for security. Leisen had mastered form, and now he mastered the content that interested him, good-bad people navigating their own wants and desires and what they will do for them. For Leisen, mixed emotions are really the only emotions possible.

In all of his most characteristic films, Leisen’s characters are at a crisis point and need to decide to take a chance and see what they can get away with to become another version of themselves. There is lots of comedy in a situation like this, of course, but Leisen always hints at the dark underside of pretending. There is an American urge in these pictures that says, “What I say I am is what I am,” and that urge is usually naïve (think of early Joan Crawford heroines). Leisen looks at this urge from a height of sophistication, almost always warmly and tenderly, but sometimes he lets a really grim insight slip through. Think of Carole Lombard’s anti-social asides in Hands Across the Table, or that harrowing scene where Barbara Stanwyck goes home to her grudge-holding and cruelly puritanical mother in Remember the Night and you will feel the hurt that animates Leisen’s search for a created world of his own.

In many ways, the 1930s were Leisen’s best creative period, where he turned out beautifully balanced and finished entertainments like 13 Hours by Air (1936). He was a romantic who had a special way of visually enfolding the lovers in his movies that is almost Frank Borzage-like, and he glorifies very different women in what must be the best close-ups of their careers: look at some of the close-ups of the melancholy Sylvia Sidney in Behold My Wife! and then look at the close-ups of the wised-up Joan Bennett in 13 Hours by Air and see how Leisen gives them the same glamorizing treatment without ever losing what makes them so individual. Even pure assignments like Artists and Models Abroad (1938) glow with a kind of dreamlike assurance, as if to say, “Why shouldn’t a comedy look beautiful?”

And when Leisen had a meatier script, like Swing High, Swing Low (1937), which also starred Lombard and MacMurray, he was capable of virtuoso work that blended comedy and drama so seamlessly that it’s difficult to tell where one leaves off and the other begins. He did some Sturges-like slapstick for Easy Living, including the famous automat scene where the windows fly open and everybody grabs at the food, which was his idea. But for Remember the Night, Leisen pared down the Sturges script, cutting unnecessary scenes and verbose dialogue until he had what he wanted, a portrait of a hard-boiled woman who starts to long for the warmth of a “why not?” idealized mid-West home. Remember the Night is probably Leisen’s finest film, and a peak in his career, a comedy-drama or a dramatic comedy all whipped together until the consistency is exquisite and just right.

After the very sensitive Hold Back the Dawn (1941), a Wilder-Brackett script about a hard-boiled male gigolo (Charles Boyer) pretending to love a sheltered, repressed girl (Olivia de Havilland) until his feelings actually become genuine, Leisen’s career settled in for a few years to minor comedies, as if wartime austerity had affected his budgets, his scripts, and his imagination. In 1944, he did two movies in color, Lady in the Dark and Frenchman’s Creek, one anti-feminist and one feminist, and both rather nightmarishly disconnected and self-indulgent.

Leisen was going through a crisis in his personal life by the mid-1940s, and it showed in his work. He was mainly gay, but he didn’t want to be, and so he had married a fledgling opera singer (“a horror” according to the sharp-tongued Ray Milland) and he was carrying on a tortured affair with costumer Natalie Visart while also pursuing men. Leisen’s loyal secretary Eleanor Broder told David Chierichetti, the author of the definitive Leisen book, Mitchell Leisen: Hollywood Director, that her boss tried taking hormone shots at one point because he thought they might eradicate his homosexuality, but of course that didn’t work. Leisen lived with the pilot Eddie Anderson in the late 1930s, and Anderson left him for Shirley Ross, the actress who talk-sings “Thanks for the Memory” with Bob Hope in The Big Broadcast of 1938, an unusually sentimental scene within his work that Leisen insisted on. When that picture finished, he had a heart attack, and his health was never quite the same afterwards.

In the 1940s, after Visart had gotten pregnant with his child and lost it, Leisen took up with the dancer Billy Daniels, and his unhappiness grew. Daniels dances in what has to be Leisen’s worst feature, Masquerade in Mexico (1945), a semi-remake of Midnight that is so distracted and poorly timed that it would seem to give credence to Billy Wilder’s many complaints about Leisen over the years in interviews; if you were to watch Masquerade in Mexico right after Midnight, it would seem like a mark against Leisen as an artist in his own right rather than a servant of superior scripts where he could get them. Daniels is actually the only thing this movie has going for it: he’s an exciting dancer, and an intriguing screen presence, sexy, petulant, a little dangerous. Many in Leisen’s inner circle disliked Daniels, but maybe Masquerade in Mexico might work if it could just be Daniels dancing as Leisen watches.

The blandness of the décor in something like Suddenly It’s Spring (1947) is a real comedown from his Art Deco 1930s pictures, but Leisen rallied in this period with some of his best and most personal films, starting with Kitty (1945), a sumptuous Gainsborough period piece with all the trimmings and a Pygmalion subject that activates all of Leisen’s interest in pretending and “passing” as something you are not. Best of all from this time is Song of Surrender (1949), an uncommonly severe movie about a New England girl named Abigail (Wanda Hendrix) who finds a way out of her repressive environment by listening to music. What Abigail feels in Song of Surrender is surely what Leisen himself must have often felt as a young man growing up in the mid-West at the turn of the last century, and so this picture, which he said he didn’t much like, is his secret movie, his confession movie. It’s a great film, daringly stark and stripped-down, and it is as unerringly paced and controlled as all of his best 1930s work; there are moments when it feels like a precursor to Jane Campion’s The Piano (1993) in its insistence on the will power needed for a woman to find aesthetic and sexual fulfillment.

Leisen did an intriguing noir with Stanwyck called No Man of Her Own (1950) and an overlooked, charming adaptation of J. M. Barrie called Darling, How Could You! (1951), which is filled with longing for family life that Leisen certainly knows is a fantasy like any of his others. (How poignant it is when Joan Fontaine says in that movie that if her children are going to love her they mustn’t “think me over first.”) He spent twenty years working at Paramount Studios, and he was a creature of the studio system; when the studio system went, so did he, but not before one more diverting small musical, The Girl Most Likely (1958), which was the last feature made at RKO. “When the studio decided we no longer needed a certain department, it was shut down and if we needed something after that, we had to make do ourselves,” Leisen said. “It was really eerie.”

Ill-health and an unwarranted reputation for spending too much money kept Leisen mainly working for TV in his last years, so that he was back to low budgets and bringing in his own furniture to dress his sets. He had been fired from Bedevilled (1955) for hitting on one of the straight actors he was working with (the actor complained to MGM), and this put another shadow over his reputation. He had made Fred MacMurray’s career, but when he tried to get work as a director on MacMurray’s hit TV show My Three Sons, it was no go. “He sent me a telegram asking for the job,” MacMurray said. “He was, well, you know, a homosexual and he had gotten into some trouble on a picture he was making in Europe. With the three young boys we had working on the show, I just didn’t think it was right. So I never answered the telegram.”

It was his women who stayed loyal to Leisen in his final years, both his secretary Broder (who was a lesbian), and his old lover Natalie Visart, who had never really gotten over her love for him and came to stay with him toward the end (Visart’s son Peter was killed in a gay-bashing in the 1970s). Leisen’s responses to David Chierichetti’s questions in their interview book are unfailingly candid, insightful, and juicy, but his standing has never ascended to the level of that of Preston Sturges or Billy Wilder, even though his visual style was far more developed than theirs, and his point of view arguably more sophisticated and certainly more kind-hearted. He was a romantic with an edge of disquiet, and this made for matchlessly rich pictures, pulsing with hope and with pain.

Leisen knew about all aspects of picture making, and he has the requisite number of classics for entrance to the pantheon, plus a whole slew of other pictures of interest. He made Remember the Night and Song of Surrender. He made Midnight and Kitty. And he made Easy Living and Darling, How Could You! Those are all heights, and from different periods, and they prove the consistency of his inventiveness and the distinctiveness of his talent. His creativity came out of personal unhappiness on the one hand and unprecedented creative license and support under the old Hollywood studio system on the other. We will not see that particular combination again.

by Dan Callahan

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warlock-enthusiast · 4 years ago

Text

Waking up slow

The Wayhaven Chronicles

Adam du Mortain x female Detective (in the future)

Detective Kat Kingston faces a murder, Unit Bravo and her mother.

Chapter 2: a second murder makes Kat doubt her abilities as a Detective

AO3 link

Chapter 1

-----

I was unaware You were lighting flares Now I'm runing scared How did it come to this?

Kat rested her head against the steering wheel.

Another victim.

Another one, she didn’t protect. Garret Hayes lay dead and cold beneath the harsh lights of Verda’s lab, neck mauled and eyes milky. The sight alone made her stomach turn, though having to deliver the news to his mother took her number one spot of upsetting experiences of this day. Kate had started to cry immediately and she’d got down on her knees to pull her close and comfort her.

Even with the help of Adam’s erie, professional abilities, nothing much had come out of questioning the grieving woman afterward. Kat didn’t blame her, but she couldn’t help but wish for even the smallest trace of their killer.

Garret’s death seemed more personal somehow, closer to home than Janet’s, and Kat hated herself for lacking objectivism.

She tried to breathe and to ignore the memory of Tina’s face when suspicion had become reality. How her warm eyes filled with tears, how she firmly pressed her lips together to suppress a sob.

Kat felt exhaustion grip her whole body.

Where to go with this investigation? A vicious murder ran rampage in her town and left almost no evidence but some blood and saliva and more questions than answers. Motives? Profile? A link between the victims?

Her hands shook, as she fumbled for her keys.

Maybe she wasn’t meant to be a Detective. Maybe all of this had been a pipe dream from the beginning or an attempt to impress her mother. She’d started this career to help and to protect and frankly, Kat currently sucked at both. Good grades and tests held no value, if you couldn’t handle a real situation and failed at solving two murders. Especially, if your body crumbled beneath the first symptoms of stress.

“Detective Kingston?” Adam crouched down to look through her window. “It’s late. You need to go home.”

“Eh.” Kat sat up straight, feeling herself blush with shame. “Yes, of course. I was … I.” She stumbled over her own words and saw his green eyes squint against the streetlights.

“You need someone to take you?” Adam’s face remained passive and unreadable and she heard a note of impatience . Somehow his presence only sparked another bout of self-pity and anger towards her lacking abilities concerning this investigation. Frustration bubbled in her throat, ready to erupt.

Oh look at you, Mister super Agent, always so sure of everything, always so strict, always lacking empathy, always so handsome. Kat bit the inside of her cheeks. “No, of course not. I can handle this.” Adam raised a brow, which clearly stated that he didn’t believe her statement. Not one bit.

“You must focus, Detective Kingston.”

“I know, Agent du Mortain. Good night!” She started her car and drove home.

Home meant her small and messy apartment, with heaps of books stacking up everywhere, and a whole collection of dirty coffee mugs, adorned with clothing and hastily written scribbles. She should really clean up her place (maybe on the weekend), but Kat’s body just longed for a hot shower and sleep.

She indulged it.

Her dreams seemed to be inconsistent and dark and awoke a feeling of dread in her stomach. Kat’s subconscious replayed her failing at her job, pictures of the murder scenes, and threw in some traumatic experiences of her teenage years.

Morning arrived to soon and yet not soon enough.

Kat hit the snooze button and crawled beneath her blankets. Just five minutes of peace, before everything came crashing down around her. Pure bliss. Hidden in her bed, she felt reminded of her childhood and how she’d waited for her mother to come home night after night, wrapped tightly in a blanket, which still smelled of father.

“Ugh.” With five minutes to go, Kat decided on just picking up clothing from the floor and putting her hair in a small bun at the nape of her neck. No makeup today, just bare exhaustion and pure professionalism.

Kat adjusted her driving mirror and caught a glimpse of her pale reflexion. “This is a new day! Be better, be smarter, Kat.”

She needed to solve this and to grant the families and the victims closure.

Douglas seemed to be missing from the frontdesk, probably late or taking a break, and she sighed in relief, because one less person she had to face today.

“Detective Kingston! Good morning, it’s good to see you.” Nate watched her entering the room, but his smile suddenly froze.

The attention of the whole team focussed on her, gazes drifting from her neck to her midsection.

“Eh, your buttons.” Felix, obviously the most helpful agent, pointed at her blouse.

“Oh, shit.” Some buttons had come undone, or probably hadn’t been closed earlier this morning, and offered a view of her sports-bra and too much skin. Kat quickly closed them, making the mistake of meeting Adam’s eyes, who didn’t meet hers, because he stared at said failed buttons.

Her heartbeat sped up and pressed against her rips. The moment stretched and stretched and Adam’s shoulders looked tense.

No no no. Close your stupid buttons!

Neither time nor place to act like this.

You haven’t dated in a while and are probably hormonal and vulnerable.

With her head as red as a ripe tomato, Kat sat down behind her desk. “We have a murder to solve, not witness my wardrobe malfunctions.”

She reached for a pen, just to hold something in her fingers. “But I’m sorry for… that.”

Felix handed her an Agency folder and patted her shoulder. “No offense taken, Detective Kingston.”

With that, the tension seemed to leave the room. Nate got up to offer her a bit more space, while Mason excused himself for a cigarette break (finally not vanishing in a cloud of smoke any more). Douglas had rolled the whiteboard into her office earlier and she clipped Janet’s and Garret’s pictures at the top. “Lets visualize our evidence.”

Kat carefully wrote down the basic informations beneath their pictures. Names, ages, occupations, social groups, families, a blank space for the lab report.

“So, what do we have?” With her hands on her hips, she knew that it wasn’t much. The nagging feeling that somehow Unit Bravo withhold information got stronger with the passings minutes. Nate and Adam exchanged glances too often, Felix tried to charm away her questions, and Mason did was he was told without any sign of interest.

Maybe she’d call Rebbeca later today, if she got a hold of her.

They discussed for a few hours, slowly going over the evidence again, moving in circles until early afternoon. Kat dialed up Verda three times, but the hospital still hadn’t examined the blood samples. Cutting funding to a necessity would do this.

Another wasted day. More lives on the line.

Kat rubbed her temples, as she began to feel a headache build between her eyes. Her phone vibrated on her desk and she gladly excused herself.

“Bobby. Not the best time.” She’d hoped for a call from Tina or Verda, but no, it had to be him, a whole nother cause of headache. Kat brought some distance between her office and herself, but still managed to watch Unit Bravo at work. Everytime, Kat left there seemed to be some kind of argument? To be a mice in that room now.

“Is it ever, angel?”

When Kat didn’t reply, he continued talking. “It’s your last chance to give me a statement.” Kat needed a moment to process his words and shook her head in disbelief. “Are you actually threatening me?” “No, of course not. Just gathering information to form a better picture. The people of Wayhaven deserve that.” “I know, but we follow strict guidelines.”

“You sure?” She heard his smile and her suddenly her body turned cold. Kat rubbed her hand against her hip. “Yes, but we can set up an interview in a week.” “Nah, too late.” Bobby chuckled. “Bye, Kat.” “Bye, Bo..:” But he’d already hung up.

Combat training had always been the hardest discipline for her, but she surely would’ve kicked some punching back this very moment. How did he manage to get under her skin so easily? After all those years, Kat still fumbled for words when talking to him.

“Grow up.” Kat whispered beneath her breath. She held her back a bit straighter and returned to her office.

“I’ll head to Verda now. You guys are better equipped than us. Is there a chance that your forensic experts may take a look at their clothing? Look for traces of DNA, hair?” Mason shook his head. “We’re not CSI.”

“Sadly, I don’t really know what you guys are, because no one ever told me exactly. And for all your expertise, nothing is going forward.” Kat’s cheek reddened again. This time, because anger made her irritable.

“Detective Kingston.” Nate crossed the room to stand at her sight. He smelled clean and fresh and rather unobtrusive. “We’ll take the SUV and look at that warehouse again, if it fits with your plan.” “Of course. Call me, if you find anything.” And Kat left the office and Unit Bravo to their own devices.

She shivered from the cold room and put her jacket tighter around her, while sitting at Verda's side. They examined the blood anomalies again and the traces of saliva, which they'd found on Garret. Nothing new there, but a welcome distraction from being locked in a small office with Unit Bravo and clashing with their personalities. They'd probably thought her a total failure. Overly emotional and not able to get herself dressed in the morning.

In comparison the pathologist was kind and soft and far more bearable.

Verda and she'd quickly become friends, because both of them loved a good book and shared a knack for the science side of police work. Not to mention that he'd made her feel welcome at the station from day one.

"We'll call the hospital tomorrow. All of this takes too long." Standing up, she corrected her reading glasses.

Verda followed suit and switched his pc off. "We'll do that."

"Don't stay up too late, though. We all need our sleep."

"Back to you. I can see your dark circles."

Kat laughed and waved his concern away with a quick eyeroll.

"Bed, here I come."

Her office was blissfully empty as she returned and the sun had already set, so Kat closed her eyes, enjoyed a deep sigh, and collected her things.

She took her phone and opened a chat with Tina.

you free this evening?

- I might be? depends on what you offer

walk, talk, coffee and muffin?

- shit day?

yes.

- mine too. can’t fathom what happened to Garret

- ... - pick me up at 7.

will do.

Something to look forward to then.

#the wayhaven chronicles #wayhaven chronicles #adam du mortain #femdetective #kat kingston #headcanons

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cryoculus · 6 years ago

Note

soulmate au wit oikawa where soulmates feel each others pain and oikawa isnt the one who hurt his knee, his soulmate is a soccerplayer and got slide tackled. i really love your work, tysm!!!! 💐

» Word Count: 6,080 wordsCross-posted on AO3

Omg i was looking for references on what to base the scene where the soulmate gets tackled from and this is what i imagined! Just scrub the video to 0:14! I know jack SHIT about soccer though. Everything in this work was purely based off research, so feel free to leave me a message if you spot some errors!

And MAN this was meant to be a short scenario with quick transitions but it turned into a whole drama bomb. You can keep scrolling if you’re not up for a 6000-word oneshot ++ as usual, my shit is terrible on tumblr mobile pls bear with me.

Oikawa loved the thrill of the game.

The incessant beat of his heart against his chest, the adrenaline that surged through his veins, the buzz of confidence that washed over him as he hit powerful serves at the other side of the court – he was enamored with his own capabilities, so to speak.

Today was like any other day. Seijoh was hosting a practice match against Datekou and Oikawa was in top form. They were already down to a match point in the second set. But just before he could land the killing shot that would decide the winner, he halted mid-air as a searing sensation ripped through his knee.

The volleyball bounced aimlessly for having been forgotten. Oikawa fell on his side against the hardwood floor, clutching the afflicted knee to his chest as agony bloomed across his nerves. He bit his lip, not allowing himself to utter a single sound as everyone else on the court crowded around him.

“Coach, Oikawa’s injured!”

The sound of your knee popping from its sockets from where the enemy defender, Yamanaka, kicked you from the side was sickening. Even through the incessant cheer of the audience in the stands, you could hear it loud and clear. The moment the sole of her shoe made brutal contact with your knee, Yamanaka even brushed her torso against yours, roughly toppling you off balance and forcing your kneecap to absorb the impact of your fall.

For a moment, your vision darkened from the agonizing pain that flared up your right knee as you fell onto the grass. A scream ripped its way from your throat, your hands scrambling for purchase to alleviate the mind-numbing sensation that burned through your nerves. You’re sure that your leg was twisted in an unnatural angle, too.

The distant sound of a whistle rang in your ears. Even through your current state, you were hyper aware of everything that’s happening around you. Players from both your team and the opposition flocked around you with concerned stares. Your best friend, Harada immediately crouched beside you, careful not to move your injury.

“Hey, (Name)!” Her eyes were wide with dread. “Can you hear me? Can you stand up?”

You shook your head with minimal effort, groaning as you did your best to remain still to avoid inflaming your knee. A few moments later, a couple of medics arrived in the scene, telling the others to give you some space to breathe. You wanted to tell them that you could breathe fine, but your voice failed you.

As you were being carried onto a stretcher, you could see one of the referees giving Yamanaka a red card. She only shrugged, as if getting penalties was a regular thing for her. But before she could step off the field, she took the liberty to cast you a self-satisfied smirk.

A sob unknowingly made its way from your lips, gaining the attention of one of the medics that was about to bring you to the first aid station. He murmured something about everything being okay in the end and that you’d get to play with your teammates soon enough.

Today really wasn’t your day.

“So,” Doctor Yamano began, “what seems to be the problem here?”

Iwaizumi nudged Oikawa, who was fidgeting nervously under the professional’s gaze. For some reason, he harbored an inexplicable discomfort around doctors. Whenever he visited one, it was either because he was sick or sustained an injury. Frankly, he wasn’t a fan of both.

“While we were playing a practice match against another school earlier today, I…” His voice trailed off. How the hell was he supposed to explain it to him?

Yamano hummed. “Yes?”

He sighed. “…I felt my right knee give out.”

“Did you apply the proper first aid procedures, Oikawa-san?”

Oikawa nodded, recalling the urgency in Coach Irihata’s voice as they lugged him to Seijoh’s infirmary.

“Is it severe? It probably isn’t if you’re not in the emergency room, I presume?”

He scratched the back of his head, laughing nervously. “It felt serious. I really thought my whole career was done for just because of a practice match.”

Yamano nodded in understanding. “Did you have your knee x-rayed already?”

“Uh, no.”

He sighed before lacing his fingers together. “Well, I’ll be needing a clear image of it so I can make a proper diagnosis, Oikawa-san. I’ll write you up a request form to show the radiologists.”

“Ah…” Oikawa wanted to tell him that it really wasn’t necessary. That maybe going here was a mistake because his knee still looked pretty much intact, save for the dull throb that pestered him throughout the day. Iwaizumi even jokingly berated his soulmate for getting such a severe injury. But Oikawa didn’t really know how doctors reacted to that.

So when he was given the green light to get an x-ray, Oikawa told Iwaizumi that he’d be all right on his own and that he should get going. There was obvious apprehension in his best friend’s eyes, but he indulged Oikawa’s request, regardless.

He was glad. If there truly was something wrong with him, he wouldn’t want Iwaizumi to be there to see how bad it was. He already worried about him far too much than Oikawa deserved.

“You go here often?”

You shot the guy that was sitting a few seats away from you in the waiting room a bizarre look. If you could recall perfectly, you were in a radiology center, not a bar.

“I’m not even from here,” you explained gruffly, pressing your legs closer together. They exchanged your uniform with a hospital gown to minimize the pressure on your knee as much as possible. The injury was beyond what the stadium’s first aid medics could manage, thus the impromptu trip to the Sendai Medical Center. But before the doctors could assess the severity of your condition, they needed a visual.

“Hmm, so am I.” The stranger sighed miserably. “I live in another district, but this is the only hospital that covers my insurance. So, where you from?”

Your brows scrunched up at his nonchalance. Did you not look distraught enough for him to just leave you to your own devices? Maybe he was just like that as a person?

You exhaled. “I’m from Hyogo.”

His noticeably brown eyes widened in surprise. “What’re you doing all the way here, then?”

“You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”

A soft-hearted laugh escaped his lips as he flashes you a cheeky grin. “When I see cute girls looking like their whole world just ended before their eyes, it’s kind of my thing to swoop down and comfort them.”

“Like a knight in shining armor of sorts?” you snorted.

He shrugged. “Take it as you like. All I’m saying is that I’m a pretty good listener. It’s not like we’ll cross paths again for me to hold anything you tell me against you, right?”

You managed to give him a lopsided smile. The gravity of everything that’s transpired today was slowly beginning to weigh down on your shoulders.

When the coach’s assistant arrived in the hospital, the game had already been concluded. Without their main offensive player, Mikage Shihan had to surrender their title to Aomori High for this year’s tournament.

When the news fell upon your ears, the sting of loss almost rivalled the throbbing ache in your knee. But before you could get emotional about your own hastiness, the nurse that attended to you in the emergency room informed that they needed an x-ray so the doctors could treat you accordingly.

Your eyes trailed back to the chatty stranger. He’s gazing at you expectantly and though there’s something about that sympathetic look he’s giving you that’s making warmth dance across your skin, you weren’t really the type to confide in people you just met.

Just as you were about to reject his offer, the door to the room where they conducted the x-rays swung open. The person inside called out your name, saying the machine was up and running. Talk about being saved by the bell.

You gave the stranger a curt nod as you tried to stand up from your seat, almost crumpling to the floor when the sharp pain from your knee shot up in your leg again, but you resisted it. Too many people have seen you in this sorry state already. You didn’t intend to add more to the list.

When the door closed behind you, you completely missed the way Oikawa Tooru clutched his own knee in a deathly grip as the pain, that he’s now realizing really wasn’t his own, came to life once more.

His knee was fine, but he’s pretty sure he accidentally stumbled into his soulmate in the process. At first, Oikawa didn’t know if Iwaizumi would understand, but thankfully he did.

“It happens,” he told Oikawa as they were heading home from practice. “Not everyone experiences it though.”

Iwaizumi told him about how Hanamaki and Matsukawa used their own bond to grate at each other’s nerves. Oikawa did a double-take on that one. He asked Iwaizumi why they didn’t bother telling him, their most trusted friend, about their status as soulmates. Iwauzmi smacked his head, reminding him how much of a chatterbox he was and that Makki and Mattsun wanted to keep it private.

“Ow!”

The woman that’s overseeing your therapy shot you a concerned look. You’re in the middle of doing the exercises that aid in rehabilitating the torn ligament in your knee, and you were on the last of your reps when suddenly, you lurched forward as if a ghostly hand had smacked you upside the head.

“You doing all right there, bud?” your therapist asked, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You rubbed the side of your head, still stinging from the contact (or lack thereof). “I feel like my head was spiked by a volleyball player.”

She laughed. “Really now?”

“Yeah, I’ve been feeling it really often. One time, I was eating and my face nearly pummelled into a bowl of ramen.”

“Your soulmate must piss a lot of people off, then.”

You stared at her, but laughed it off as one of her jokes. Surely, she didn’t mean you actually had a soulmate right? Only a few people were blessed enough to be given one. Besides, whoever got stuck with you as a soulmate would be damned to the achingly slow healing stage of your knee for an indefinite amount of time.

But a hopeful part of you wished that, if you did have a soulmate, they wouldn’t be an athlete like you. Your own tribulation would only weigh them down in ways you can only imagine.

Oikawa could bear with the pain.

On good days, it was just a faint throb in his knee that he could ignore for the most part. His performance wouldn’t be easily affected by a twinge of pain. He had a pretty high tolerance for it, after all.

But there were also times like these when he’d wake up in the middle of the night, clutching his leg as he stifled a scream. What were you doing in such an ungodly hour?

He laid in his bed until the agony subsided back into the usual telltale throb that reminded him that though it’s no longer volatile, the sensation was still there. You were still in pain. He didn’t like the idea; not one bit.

That was the first time he looked you up. He clumsily spelled out your name on the search engine in the way that he remembered the x-ray technician from nearly a month ago pronounced it. He expected to see links to social media accounts you probably owned, but instead he was faced with a bunch of news articles from online high school sports magazines.

Curious, he clicked on the first link.

“Hyogo’s Own (Surname) (Name), Out of Commision for Good?”

Oikawa vaguely recalled you mentioning that you were from Hyogo and nothing else. It was a district far off on the other side of the country. It would take more than twelve hours to drive there, yet he had found you sitting in a hospital in Sendai with a dead look in your eyes. He always wondered how exactly you wound up waiting to get an x-ray of whatever was afflicting you so far away from home, but the pieces slowly came together as his eyes grazed every word in the article.

“The coach of Hyogo’s Mikage Shihan is yet to release a statement with regards to their star player’s condition. But from what we’ve gathered from the team’s captain, Matsumoto Hiyori, she sustained a severe injury in her right leg. Some speculate that it was a dislocation, but others insisted that it was just a torn ligament. Whatever the cause may be, the football scene would be having scarce glimpses of one of Japan’s top three high school strikers, both in the male and female divisions.”

Your back collided with the wall as Harada roughly pressed you against it, holding you by the shoulders as unveiled fury burned in her eyes.

“Do you really want to end your whole career because of your own stubbornness?” she spat.

You have half the mind to tell her that your career would end sooner if you didn’t practice, but Harada would only remind you that you were given a three-month probation from any sporting activities. You hated that your doctor was right, that Harada was right, but could they blame you?

Soccer was all you had – it’s all you’re good at. You wanted to feel the rush of running through the field, the sun glaring at your skin, and the sound of grass crunching under the soles of your shoes. You ached for it.

“Just one month more, (Name),” she whispered, her fingers trembling. “One more and you’ll be free to play again. But right now…your knee still needs to heal.”

You knew that. You knew it far too well more than Harada or anyone else could ever understand. The burden of waking up every morning, feeling like your knee was going to snap off its sockets at any moment was already fair enough of a warning. But you couldn’t help yourself. You needed to move, to constantly be doing something because you’d rather incapacitate yourself entirely than spend another second feeling worthless. Seeing everyone do their drills on the field as you watched them between the barrier of a chain-link fence ate away at your sanity more than you expected it to.

The door to the locker rooms abruptly creaked open as your team’s goalie, Suzuhime, and your captain, Matsumoto, made their entrance, shattering the tension that nearly suffocated you.

Their gazes, oh how sick you were of those pitiful gazes they sent your way. Why did they always look at you like you wouldn’t be playing alongside them anymore? It infuriated you to no end and the frustration that’s been building up in your chest for weeks just…burst.

“Why does everyone have to keep deciding what I can and can’t do for myself?” you snapped. “It’s my body, it’s my career, why do you have to meddle with what I want to fucking do with my life?”

Poison might as well dribbled from your chin at the sharpness of your tone. The two newcomers shot you wide-eyed stares, unused to your seething behavior, but Harada remained unfazed. She’s known you since you were children and even if you were a collected person for the most part, she’s borne witness to your rage a handful of times. And she knew how to handle the situation accordingly.

You were armed with an arsenal of even more hurtful things to say, but before any of them left your lips, the sting of Harada’s palm smacking against your face snapped you out of your haze of indignation.

The frown you didn’t know you’ve been making loosens as your lips parted in surprise when tears fell from Harada’s eyes.

“You’re not the only one who’s hurt by this, you know?” she interjected with a shaky breath. “We hate seeing you in pain. We hate it when you try to push yourself to limits you can’t reach anymore. So please just–” she exhaled, “–try to understand why we’re keeping you from training.”

Matsumoto came forward, pulling the two of you in a tight embrace. Suzuhime muttered something about unwarranted affection, but joined in regardless. You couldn’t react. You never really thought of it that way until Harada slapped you with the truth (no pun intended).

“Can you promise me one thing, as your captain?” Matsumoto pressed her lips in a thin line.

You nodded.

“Focus on getting better. The field won’t disappear, but your career can. Wasn’t that one big shot university in Tokyo eyeing you for a sports scholarship? You can’t lose that.”

And she was right. There was more to your life than this measly little slip-up. In five years give or take you’d be laughing at this whole thing like it was an inside joke. Everything was going to get better.

With that, you wiped the tears that ran across Harada’s cheeks, mumbling an almost inaudible apology.

“Man, you guys are too uptight,” Suzuhime whined. “Let’s all just get some pork buns like we used to!”

The idea never sounded better.

“What’s up with you?” Iwaizumi spared Oikawa a mindful glance. Their captain was rubbing his cheek instead of warming up for practice.

“I think she got slapped,” he muttered.

Hanamaki, having found out about Oikawa’s newly discovered soulmate bond, cackled. “You want to return the favor?”

“Shut the fuck up, Makki.”

“A soulmate?” Harada cocked her head to the side. “Don’t you have one, Suzu?”

Redness crept up Suzuhime’s face for having been singled out. “Um, yeah. It’s my childhood friend. You don’t know him. He goes to another school.”

Matsumoto scoffed. “That’s just high school girl-talk for ‘my soulmate doesn’t exist’.”

“Hey! He does, too!”

Harada waved away their impending banter, her attention solely on you. “So you think you have a soulmate?”

You nodded, eyes drifting towards your half-eaten pork bun. “They get hit a lot. I’m worried they’re in an abusive environment.”

“How sweet,” Suzuhime sighed. “My soulmate doesn’t care about his health at all. He always gets into scuffles and the bruises take ages to heal. When I talked to him about it, he just shrugged it off!”

“If he exists, that is,” taunted your captain.

“Matsu, I am going to tape your damn mouth.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Ignore them,” Harada told you. “So, what do you plan on doing about it?”

You’ve been asking yourself the same thing. Soulmate bonds are a surefire way of determining that someone was out there fated to be with you. But the tricky part was finding them. They could be anywhere in the world and the only means you had to contact them were the shared sensations of pain you felt on both ends of the bond.

Your eyes drifted onto the black knee brace you’ve been coerced to wear for the duration of your therapy. It served as a visual reminder of what had happened. But then again, the dull ache that made itself known every now and then still haunted you. Did your soulmate feel that slight ounce of pain, too?

“I think,” you sighed, “I’m just going to wait it out.”

This was bad.

Oikawa Tooru was known for his exceptional talent as a setter and a jump server. He wouldn’t have the audience from the stands hyping him up when it’s his turn to send a merciless blow towards their opponent. But jump serves were the only serves he made, since he refused to settle for anything less. This put an unnecessary strain on his knees that he knew, from the start, he would pay for when the time comes.

That time was now.

He hissed as Iwaizumi soothed the taut muscles in Oikawa’s legs. Matsukawa handed their ace an ice pack, which he placed over their captain’s aching knee.

“Is it yours?” Iwaizumi asked.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

Matsukawa snickered at the side. “Of all the soulmates you could have ended up with, they just had to be an injury-prone idiot, too.”

Normally, he would’ve told Mattsun off for being mean, but honestly, he couldn’t have been more right.

“Shouyou’s playing volleyball now?” you clarified to your mother, who was giving you your afternoon massage.

She hummed. “Your aunt told me their school’s fighting to qualify as Miyagi’s representative for nationals. They got us tickets to watch their semifinals game.”

You couldn’t ever picture your little cousin, Shouyou, being able to touch the top of a volleyball net. He never even showed the vaguest interest in any kind of sport! Whenever his family visited yours in Hyogo a few years back, you always tried to get him into soccer one way or another. But he was as stubborn as an ox. Now, you’re hearing he’s playing to qualify for a national-level tournament for their prefecture?

“Miyagi, huh? That’s where I…” You frowned. No, you weren’t going to dwell on it any longer. “When’s the game?”

“This Friday, but we’re leaving on Thursday night. Your father’s driving.”

School wasn’t particularly hectic this time around, so you shrugged, agreeing with your mother to go all the way back to the place where some of your dreams were crushed. It wouldn’t do anyone harm, right?

Things were looking pretty dire for Seijoh. The little chibi – no, his entire team wasn’t letting up at all. It annoyed Oikawa more than it should. How did they still have that much determination left?

Oikawa’s breath came out a little shaky as Mr. Refreshing and the little shrimp attempted to send the ball back to Seijoh. But Oikawa saw through the feint. Sugawara set it into the ace’s direction instead, who promptly slammed it down with unparalleled precision. Hanamaki was quick to react, diving for it without a second’s hesitation. The receive was off and it was flying away from the court, but Oikawa’s feet moved before he could even set a plan in stone.

He forced his legs into sprints as he snapped his arm and pointed an index finger in the direction of the person he trusted most. His eyes flashed with fiery determination and the flames spread to Iwaizumi’s as well. It seemed impossible. It would be one of the riskiest sets he would have to make in his whole career thus far, but if he didn’t take it, he would just be admitting defeat.

Oikawa launched himself into the air, twisting his torso in the direction of Seijoh’s ace and put the ball back in play all the way from where he set it from outside the court. Iwaizumi nodded in understanding, bending his knees for the sole purpose of connecting it. Naturally, the rules of physics still applied in a volleyball game and gravity eventually brought Oikawa back on the ground, at the cost of his back colliding with some of the metal chairs set aside.

But Iwaizumi didn’t disappoint. He was already flying, arm pulled back in a spiking stance before the ball could even come to him. He trusted Oikawa’s accuracy enough to make this shot possible. There was no one else that could pull this off.

The captain grit his teeth, struggling to get back on his feet, but a sheet of black cloth was on the floor, making him lose traction in his shoes. The urgency in his action made him slip, his bad knee – your bad knee – colliding with the floor. The familiar sting in his bones flared back into life, but he couldn’t afford to pay it any mind.

He was running. Running even if his knee screamed for him to stop. Running even if his lungs burned for a breather. Running because even if Iwaizumi connected his set with a beautiful spike, that blasted Karasuno delinquent was definitely going to receive it–

A pained scream momentarily distracted him from everything happening on the court. It was strange. He never let what was going on in the stands distract him from a game, whether it be Seijoh’s supporters egging them on or some other matter than didn’t require his attention.

But he could see it. The way you crumpled on the stairs a few levels above in the stands, clutching your knee to chest as you howled in agony. His heart stopped at the sight.

What were you doing here?

“It hurts! It hurts!” you sobbed into your father’s shirt, fingers clamped around your aching leg. The all-too familiar pain erupted in your knee at the very same time that familiar face slipped on the court. You knew it wasn’t just a coincidence that the chatty stranger from a few months back was in the very same match as Shouyou.

“Shh, we’re going to get your meds, baby,” your father cooed as he carefully hooked his arm under your knees and supported your back with the other. “Just hold out for a while.”

You could vaguely hear your mother apologizing to your aunt, but all your mind could focus on was how beautiful his eyes were. They were looking straight at you with crackling intensity. But before you could spend any longer drowning in those hazel eyes, your father carried you out of the stands, whispering words of consolation in your ear.

“Oikawa-san!”

Yahaba’s shout pulled Oikawa back into focus and he could clearly see Tobio running about on the court, going into position for their freak quick. A menacing smile graced Oikawa’s lips. That’s what he wanted – for his junior to use their ultimate weapon and fail.

But something was wrong.

Iwaizumi, Kindaichi, and Kyoutani – the three of them, at the same time, lunged in an attempt to sully the ball’s trajectory. But they shouldn’t. The chibi’s arms were angled too obtuse. The shot was definitely going outside. He was about to bark at them to stop being a couple of idiots, but there was no reversing it.

Even if you can’t stop it, touch it, that’s what Oikawa always told them. He shouldn’t go back on his own teachings now.

The chibi’s spike grazed Iwaizumi’s fingers. Out of instinct, Oikawa pulled his arms to the side in a pathetic attempt to receive, but he knew it was in vain. If only he stood a few feet at the back, maybe he could have had better odds.

But fate has always been cruel to the ordinary.

As all eyes were on the outplayed volleyball, none of the players dared to draw a breath. But seeing that Oikawa was already their last line of defense, it collided with the floor, the echoing sound imprinted in his mind for the rest of his days.

Seijoh had fallen.

“When I find that boy, I’m going to beat him to a pulp,” your father flatly proclaimed when you finished your story. The three of you were back in the Hinatas’ living room, your mother having soothed your knee with her otherworldly massage.

“Dad, no,” you pleaded, but knew he didn’t mean the threat. At least, not entirely.

“I’m going to have to agree with your father, sweetie,” your mother caressed your hair. “He must know what’s going on with you by now. He should be more careful.”

You rolled your eyes. “Mom, I should have been careful. Who knows what he went through when I got slide tackled in the Aomori game.”

She hesitated before sighing in defeat. Your parents then shared a look, presumably having a telepathic conversation as to what your next course of action should be.

But before they could make that decision for you, Shouyou emerged from the hallway.

“You’re…soulmates with the Grand King?”

You didn’t know who this ‘grand king’ was, but he probably meant the chatty stranger turned volleyball player you met eyes with earlier today. You shot Shouyou a pained smile.

“Yeah.”

“Iwa-chan, I don’t get why we’re in rival territory. Why won’t you just tell me?” Oikawa simpered as Iwaizumi dragged him along further inside Karasuno’s campus. A few girls they passed by shot him knowing glances, which was odd. Most females would swoon at the sight of Oikawa Tooru.

“Shut up, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi dismissed before letting go of his best friend’s collar when they arrive at the school’s gym. “Someone wants to see you.”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes. “If it’s Tobio-chan, tell him to forget it! As if I’ll let him gloat about their victory in my face.”

“Dumbass, it’s not him! None of the players are looking for you!”

“Then why are we even here in the first place?”

“Uhm, hello?”

It’s been months since Oikawa’s heard that voice, but even now, he could still associate your face with it. You peeked your head from inside Karasuno’s gym. The sound of volleyball shoes scraping against the polished floor spilling from inside almost made Oikawa nostalgic, but he was preoccupied with something else entirely.

You grinned at him, but your eyes held a hint of shyness in them. Oikawa didn’t know whose breath hitches, but he’s definitely having a hard time taking in oxygen at the sight of your face, more vibrant than the first time he saw you in Sendai. His eyes glazed over the knee brace slapped on your right knee – it looked painfully similar to the one he needed to wear in games.

“I’m sorry I gave you such a hard time,” came your sheepish apology. “If I’d been more careful back then, you could’ve beat these guys… But I was rooting for Shouyou from the start, so…”

Oikawa didn’t know anyone named Shouyou, but he must have been someone close enough to you that you’d go all the way from Hyogo to watch their game against Karasuno. He made sure to shower whoever Shouyou was with infinite affection for finally, finally bringing you back to him.

Shit, he’s hot.

You didn’t remember mister chatterbox from the hospital being this attractive. Maybe you just had such a terribly pessimistic view of the world at the time that you missed how unfairly good-looking he was.

You could feel the warmth spreading all over your face at apologizing profusely for your past mishandling of your current predicament. But he dismissed all of your concerns with a lighthearted laugh that sounded like a symphony in your ears.

“(Surname) (Name), Japan’s number three striker, is apologizing for an injury she didn’t even mean to get? You’re quite the saint, are you?” The way your name rolled off his tongue tugged at your heartstrings more than it should. Stupid soulmate bonds, making you lose composure all the damn time.

“You know who I am?” you queried, rather amused with this revelation.

He offered a nonchalant shrug. “I do my research.”

The two of you stood there, carefully taking in each other as much as you could. You almost felt bad for the friend he brought with him, who stepped aside as to not interrupt your first meeting with your soulmate. But knowing that he’s the boy who’s always getting smacked in the head, the one that made you feel the sting of a service ace on the tips of your fingers, and the very same guy that powered through the burden you unknowingly shoved into his plate all with an award-winning grin on his face, it was all worth it.

This was Oikawa Tooru, one of the most amazing setters in the high school volleyball scene.

But why did he look like he was about to cry?

Oikawa couldn’t help it. He threw his arms around you and took a long whiff of your scent. Ever since he ensured your identity, he couldn’t help but think of all the times your pain was transmitted to him. Those days were difficult for him, alone, already, what more for the person actually suffering the affliction?

Gentle fingers tangled themselves in your hair as he pulled you as tight as he could into his own body. His arms shook with the sheer emotions coursing through his veins and–

“Why are you crying?”

He sighed, placing his hands on your shoulders. You eyed him bizarrely, but concern was lining your features, nonetheless.

“I hurt you.”

You snorted.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve hurt you more times than the other way around,” you retorted, smiling up at him. “What kind of athlete would I be if I had a shitty pain tolerance?”

His eyes widened, taken aback with your reply. Admittedly, he already planned his first meeting with you in his imagination dozens of times. Only he didn’t expect for it to be in Karasuno, a day after his last volleyball game in high school. But he imagined himself letting his emotions lose, apologizing for hurting you, and you clasping his hands in forgiveness. He didn’t exactly write it in the script for you to take the blame, yourself, too.

You were simply full of surprises.

You spent the rest of the afternoon talking and talking until the sun was beginning to bleed into the horizon.

Oikawa Tooru was an interesting person. He loved volleyball, had a penchant for milk bread, and admitted that he may be quite the narcissist at times. He told you that Tobio-chan, one of Shouyou’s teammates, was a junior that finally surpassed him. (There was a bitter undercurrent to his voice as he told that part.) He was going to Tokyo for college and–

“For real? I’m headed for Tokyo, too,” you chuckled, lacing your fingers together on your lap.

Oikawa quirked an eyebrow. “Do you happen to be on a sports scholarship as well?”

You hummed, smiling playfully. “I dunno. Could the number three high school striker of Japan be able to land a scholarship even after this shitty injury?”

“Hmm…probably not.” Oikawa shook his head.

That reply garnered a pout. “Why not?”

He shrugged. “I haven’t seen her play yet. She’s seen me play, and we both know that my skill is already university-tier.”

“Yet, you still lost,” you sighed dramatically.

The offended look on his face was priceless. “You didn’t have to go that far!”

You bellowed a hearty laugh, clutching your stomach at the puppy eyes he’s sending your way. Never could you have imagined that same boy from the radiology center being gifted with a whimsical persona so in tune with your own. Weirdly, you’re thankful for the injury that linked you to him.

But as your laughter died down, the sun had already set. Your mother told you to be back with Shouyou and from the looks of it, the boys were already cleaning up inside the gym.

You glanced at Oikawa, who was contently gazing at you with a small smile.

“I’m going back to Hyogo tonight,” you imparted.

He gave you a curt nod. “Have a safe trip.”

“What, you’re not going to proclaim your love for me and force me to never leave your side again?”

Oikawa wrinkled his nose at such a bold statement. “You’re pretty, but not that pretty.”

“Hey!”

“I jest. I jest,” he chuckled, tucking in a lone tuft of your hair behind your ear. The graze of his fingers against the skin of your cheek made your lips part in a mute sigh.

“All I’m saying is what’s there to fret about when we have–” he gestured towards your knee, “–this bonding us?”

“You saying you want me to get injured again, Tooru?”

“Oh, say my name again.”

“Pervert!”

“No! It really sounded nice in your voice!”

“(Name)-neesan!”

Your heart almost sank at the sound of Shouyou’s voice. He emerged from the entrance with his gym bag slung across his shoulder. With a polite smile, he asked if you were ready to go.

You almost told him that, yes, you were, but that’s until Oikawa hissed at him like a cat.

“You’re the Shouyou that brought us together?” he accused with thinly veiled apprehension, to which Shouyou laughed.

“That’s right, Grand King! You owe me now!”

“I owe nothing to any of you Karasuno folk!”

You rolled your eyes to pull Oikawa into an abrupt embrace, which effectively snapped him out of his hostility towards your younger cousin. He stammered with his words, but they remained forgotten when you whispered in his ear:

“See you in Tokyo.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! headcanons #haikyuu x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru hc #oikawa tooru x reader #im crying #soulmate au #this was so much fun to wrITE #I LOVE HIM #the grand king of mY LIFE #hqscenario

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