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oro-e-diamanti · 4 years ago

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The one where Ethan is pretending

Description | When you bump into Ethan in Paris, you fail to mention that you know exactly who he is. You’re not sure how long you’ll be able to keep it up when he asks you out for a drink.

Content | Fluff

Pairing | Ethan x gn!Reader (with the exception of one female pet name)

Word Count | 2071

Taglist | @ginny-lily @ethaneskin @tabi-toast @mywritingonlyfans

***

There was no way you were staying in the same place that Måneskin had just arrived at. There was no way, you kept telling yourself. Paris was a massive city, the number of available hotels in the hundreds, maybe thousands if you had to guess. And yet, somehow, you had managed to pick the one place one of your new favourite obsessions would spend their time. You knew it didn't mean much, the hotel had more than a couple of rooms and with your luck, you wouldn't even catch a glimpse of them. But as you kept scrolling through Instagram, seeing pictures of people meeting the four Italians in front of the place you had checked into mere days ago, you couldn't fight a little bubble of excitement forming in your chest.

Well, you told yourself you wouldn't get your hopes up. And you definitely wouldn't hang around in front of the hotel or in the lobby. You had booked your solo trip to Paris months ago, after dreaming about visiting the city for most of your life, and you would be damned if you wouldn't stick to your itinerary and enjoy your holiday. However - you had gotten up at what felt like dawn to go queue up for the Louvre and spent the last couple of hours there, so you decided that a nap was the way to go if you wanted to continue exploring the city in the evening. Fortunately, the walk back to the hotel wasn't long.

You had made it to the last corner before entering the street you were aiming for, when two giggling girls ran past you, unceremoniously bumping your shoulder and sending you tumbling. You were fully expecting to hit the ground, but instead, a pair of strong arms caught you and brought you back to your feet. A pair of strong arms belonging to a strong chest that you came face-to-face with, belonging to a gorgeous face, belonging to Ethan Torchio.

"Tu vas bien?" His broad French accent confused you, momentarily forgetting about the little detail that you were, in fact, in France, as you stared at the drummer in front of you, who was still protectively holding onto your upper arms.

"Huh?" Was the immensely intelligent answer that thus left your mouth.

"Oh, not French?"

"No, definitely not French." You finally said, taking a step back from him to avoid the increasing awkwardness you were feeling about being touched by him, while the two girls who had previously knocked you down were now lingering around the two of you suspiciously, not coming close enough to be rude, but obviously desperate to get their own piece of Ethan. "No, just a tourist."

"Me too," Ethan smiled. "A tourist, I mean. Well, kind of. I'm here with my band so it's not like we have time to do a lot of sightseeing."

He briefly turned around to look at the two girls who still seemed frustrated at you hogging his time and gave a small wave before turning back to you. It was the movement that made you realise he had the most gorgeous red rose tucked into the waistband of his trousers. Well, it used to be the most gorgeous rose - after your little crash, it had bent in the middle, the top hanging only by a thread, in the most miserable fashion.

"Oh, no I am so sorry!" You gasped, carefully grasping the delicate petals that were on the verge of breaking off. "I must have crashed into it when you caught me."

"Don't worry about it," Ethan said, softly, and pulled the stem from his waistband. The flower looked even more tragic now, in all its crushed glory. "A fan gave it to me a few minutes ago."

"Huh?" You surely proved yourself articulate in this conversation. You mentally hit yourself, angry at yourself for being so easily flustered.

"There are a few fans waiting in front of our hotel, because we're in a ... band ... and things."

Apparently, your awkwardness was contagious. Also, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Ethan thought that you had no idea who he was.

"Let me get you a new one," you suggested. "There's a flower shop just two doors down from the hotel - I mean, I am staying there, too, so I know."

He smiled at you with a serenity and calmness that had your heart soaring. You decided you'd be willing to buy him a million roses if only he kept smiling at you like that for a little longer.

"Well, I've got to go now, but it would be rude to refuse your offer. Meet you in the bar of the hotel at 8 tonight?"

No way this was happening. You almost gasped, but at the last moment managed to keep your cool, outwardly. On the inside, you were a mess. Bumping into the drummer of one of your favourite bands was a wonderful chance meeting as it was - but this almost sounded like a date. Now, of course, Ethan wouldn't be asking you out on a date. That would be ridiculous. But there was also no way you would miss out on a chance to meet him again. Preferably without those two giggling girls that were still standing behind him, watching every move of your interaction but luckily too far away to hear what you were saying.

"It's a d- uh, deal," you quickly recovered before almost spitting out the word date instead. Ethan chuckled.

"Right, see you later, then, for our... deal."

He had seen right through you anyway, you thought. But he was still laughing, so it wasn't all that bad - right?

With another quick touch to your upper arm, Ethan walked past you, turning around just one last time.

"My name is Ethan, by the way. You can tell me yours tonight."

Oh, you would.

***

The rest of the day was... well, restless. You couldn't nap because your mind was a whirlwind and your stomach was twisting with excitement. So instead, you had made sure to get the prettiest red rose you could find in the flower shop down the street - while slightly wincing at the price that a shop in the center of the city of love demanded - and put it in a glass the hotel receptionist had been nice to give to you. Then you had decided that there was no way you would manage to relax before 8, so you allowed yourself a few hours simply wandering through the city, no real destination, no itinerary for once, just a nice long stroll with nothing but your thoughts.

At five past eight - being slightly late was still cool, right? - you did a quick check-up in the mirror, realised you were not going to get any happier with your appearance whatever you tried to do at this point, grabbed the rose from its makeshift vase, and left your room.

It only took you a second to see him when you entered the little bar on the ground floor of the hotel. Even in the dim light, the white blouse that he had already been wearing when you met for the first time stood out like a sore thumb. Long dark hair fell over his back in a silky fashion. You had never wanted to touch anyone's hair more.

You took one more deep breath and then walked over to Ethan, smile on your face and rose in your hand.

"A rose for the handsome gentleman?"

Ethan almost jumped, apparently not having heard you coming, but quickly a smirk spread over his face while he stood up.

"I'll take the rose and your name, then."

"It's Y/n."

Ethan greeted you with a soft kiss to your cheek, before taking the rose, pulling your chair back, and inviting you to sit. It was almost ridiculously romantic and if it had been anyone else it would have seemed over-the-top and off-putting, but with Ethan it seemed sincere and fitting.

"Glass of wine, Y/n?" He asked as he casually waved the waiter over to your table.

"Just one. I want to get up early tomorrow for some more sightseeing."

***

It didn't end up being just one glass. It ended up another one and then a bottle shared. But it also ended up with three hours of talking, laughing, teasing, and slowly moving your chairs closer together until you were basically sitting on the same side of the table. You had asked him about his band - still trying to cover up that you knew exactly who they were out of pure fear that he'd reject you for being a fan - and he has asked about your job, your life, your family. In fact, you only left the bar when the waiter had started throwing you annoyed looks while demonstratively cleaning the tables around you.

"I'll bring you to your room," Ethan chuckled lightly as you waited for the elevator. His hand was on the small of your back and it was spreading tingles all through your body. You were standing close enough that you could smell his perfume, a light yet musky scent that encapsulated everything about him.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, he lightly pushed you inside and you found yourself not minding him leading you like this. You pressed the button for your floor, leaning against the wall as you studied the man in front of you. He was a thing of beauty, no question about it, and when he smiled down at you the way he was right then and there, he made you feel like one, too.

"I had a lovely evening, Y/n. Is there any chance I could get your number?"

What a question, you thought to yourself. You'd be mad to refuse him!

You dug your phone out of your cluttered bag. You had switched numbers just a few weeks ago and had not yet learned the new digits by heart. Quickly, you switched it on - and your heart sank. Oh crap. You had completely forgotten about this.

The lockscreen of your phone was a picture of Måneskin.

As you looked up, you realized Ethan had seen. And, contrarily to the reaction that you were anticipating, he was wearing a massive grin.

"Ethan, I am so sorry, I should have told you immediately when we met but I kind of just stumbled into this and you were explaining you were in a band and I didn't know how to say-"

"Dolcezza, calm down. I've known all along."

"Wait - what?"

He didn't explain. Instead, he pointed to your bag - your tote bag - your Måneskin tote bag.

You truly felt like the least intelligent life form on earth.

"I've been carrying that around all day, haven't I?"

While your embarrassment grew, face heating up, Ethan grabbed your shoulders and pulled you into his body. His arms tightly wrapped around your body and you could feel his giggles in his chest, as your head was pressed against it. You didn't hesitate in reciprocating, clinging onto his torso, slowly swinging from side to side. Both of you caught in a tipsy stupor.

You only stopped when the elevator arrived at your floor, both of you stumbling out and dragging each other to your door while clinging on. When you reached your room, you let your back lean against it, pulling Ethan along so you were standing face to face, smiling at each other shily and yet never breaking eye contact.

"Why didn't you say anything?" You finally asked. He stroked your cheek, leaving goosebumps. He had now gotten so close that you could feel his breath on your, drowning in each other.

"I liked pretending."

And then he kissed you. Boldly, unafraid and passionate. You melted like putty under him, letting him take control while letting yourself fall, as his lips moved against yours.

You only pulled away enough to get another glance at him, before once again searching your bag, now one-handed, so you never quite had to let go of him. A small triumphant sound escaped you as you located the key card. Holding it up next to your face, you shot the man in front of you another smirk.

"Why don't we keep pretending? At least for tonight."

It wasn't an offer he was going to refuse.

#ethan torchio #maneskin #ethan torchio imagine #ethan torchio fiction #ethan tochio x you #ethan torchio x reader #maneskin imagine #maneskin fiction #fluff #my writings

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sarahjkl82-blog · 4 years ago

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Artistic Instinct Chapter Eight

Header thanks to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty

Summary: Marcus Pike and OC Anushka Pierce have been selected to work on a 5 eyes (Australia, Canada, NZ, the UK and US) intelligence team to track down art forgeries as a part of taking down an international white terrorism cell. Marcus is trying to escape his broken heart, Anushka is just trying to escape what the world expects of her.

Word count: 5,600

Warnings: Language as always, mentions of drinking, alcohol and drunkenness, mentions of sex OH AND HEARTBREAK

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader (OC)

This comes with a MASSIVE THANK YOU to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty , who read, re-read, pointed out the constant flipping between tenses and gave me the confidence to try to write something. This is the first thing I have written since angsty poetry as a teenager. Apologies if it is shit!

The right person, the wrong time.

The right script, the wrong line.

The right poem, the wrong rhyme.

And a piece of you

That was never mine

K Towne Jr.

Chapter 8

The black topped streets of Lewisham radiate the day’s spring sunshine as if intent upon sending the heaven sent warmth back up through Marcus’ soles. The evening’s golden light creates a love song in his heart - one that morphs from the irritation and melancholy of the morning to a happier more uplifting tune.

When did that mood change? Oh yes, that embrace.

Nush.

Marcus hadn’t realised just how low his battery was for touch until you threw your arms around him. How much much he’d needed your body close to his again. Feeling your softness against him, inhaling your intoxicating scent. How he’d longed to kiss your forehead and stroke your hair in that cuddle. Remembering the pain of breaking that contact, plastering on a smile and kicking himself for it.

Constantly having to watch his need for your touch and tempering it within the normal parameters for a working relationship, Marcus has found himself reaching out for you- making excuses to touch you as you passed him, finding imaginary eyelashes on your face. Being around you felt like a breath that he was unable to release, continuously having to dampen down his natural instincts to hold and stroke you.

Kiss you.

Taste you.

Had he been back in the States, he would have said fuck it and asked you out, but that didn’t exactly go well last time. The pain of knowing exactly what he wants and it just being beyond the reach of his fingertips plagues Marcus daily with the dream of coming home to be loved, nurtured and protected and offer it in return. How do you ever allow yourself to become vulnerable to that risk of failure again? One thing he is certain of, is your current ignorance of the true level of his feelings. The kindness you show others - so much care for everyone around you, albeit through a thinly veiled layer of sarcasm and swearing- and the love your friends show for you, demonstrate that you would be nothing but clear if he was to reveal his true feelings.

Squeezing politely through the crowds, between the narrow shack-like stalls of the fairy-light illuminated market, Marcus heads towards the Highline where Andy had told each of you to meet him. Before he could start climbing the staircase up, a large hand grasps his upper arm, another patting the space between his shoulder blades. Marcus spins, slightly surprised by the touch, to be greeted by Andy’s grinning face.

“Looking good, Sir. Bit sharper than at lunch today,” Andy observes, giving Marcus’ leather jacket, Henley and indigo jeans a once over, “and before you complain, I am going to get you a beer because of the day you’ve had. You can do your management thing of buying the first round in a bit, and I won’t take no for an answer.”

With Andy’s face explicitly telling Marcus not to disagree with him, he nods, definitely needing that drink. As they head together towards the bar, they are both absorbed into the throng of a hundred voices holding loud conversations as they compete with the soundtrack from the decks. The crowd is a mixed bag of teenagers, students and families - the children chasing or trying to catch the sparkling spotlights as their parents reminisce over large gin and tonics about lie-ins and late nights not hunched over a crib.

Winding their way through the laughing and dancing bodies, they head in the direction of the alcohol to order some locally brewed ales, bumping into an already buzzing Kiritopa at almost the front of the queue. After a round of handshakes, back slaps and hearty laughs, they edge ever closer to their goal of amber nectar. Before their drinks are poured, Marcus’ eyes scan the market for the rest of the team when they are caught by a flash of colour. Bright turquoise stockings, a mustard corduroy pinafore, red and white striped T-shirt - oh, it isn’t you. Your wildly coloured legs bring so much colour to his day and they are the first thing he checks as he enters the office. Elbow nudges and a pint glass from Andy brings his attention back to the men in front of him for a quick cheers-ing of glasses before heading out of the melée.

The table on the Highline that Andy had reserved was utterly perfect. It afforded a bird’s eye view of the market - a true dream come true for any avid people watchers, whilst also allowing everyone to talk and be heard by each other with its one storey elevation from the thronging crowds. Andy and Kiritopa are animatedly talking with each other lounging amongst the piles of cushions and blankets on the pallet seating, while Marcus leans against the walkway, clutching his beer, staring off into the urban sprawl of concrete car parks and fried chicken restaurants but only looking for one face.

“Hey, what time do you call this...Whoa - Nush, is that makeup? On your face?” Andy’s eyes are utterly saucer-like in this discovery.

“Hush your mouth - she did it to me,” you jab your finger in Dian’s direction, pouting your lips at the indignation and as Andy goes to make another quip, you add- shoving some chips in his mouth, “Dirty masala fries- thought we’d need something to line our tummies this evening. Although equally, they’ll do a wonderful job of keeping some people’s mouths shut!”

“I think I did a great job- she looks stunning!” having put three portions on the table, Dian steps back to admire her handiwork as you pull a duck face pout at her.

She always looks beautiful.

“So, what’s on these fries?” Marcus asks as he desperately tries to avoid the other thoughts running through his head of how that pencil skirt runs along the curve that falls and rises from your waist to your hips beautifully or the horizontal stripes of your t-shirt - an outfit winning in its quest to distract.

As for that goddamn red lipstick…

It would leave a mark all around my-

“Ok, so they’re skinny French fries with spices shaken over them and a dollop of channa masala on top. Oh and that white shit is garlic mayo to dip them in,” you grin broadly as you pass him a portion - the picant vibrancy of the food telling stories of the fresh, bold flavours to come. Always being a believer in food being one of the ways that you can love a person, the mouthful of potatoes, spices and chickpeas envelops Marcus in an all encompassing hug. His belly sings with happiness with each mouthful he consumes, his tongue delightfully tingling from the chilli powder.

“Y’know Nush. Not had one of your curries for a while,” Andy not-so gently hints.

Marcus can’t help but raise his eyebrows, “Nush, you make curries? How many other hidden talents?”

“She also plays the piano and did ballet until she was fifteen,” Andy adds, ducking as you lob a cushion at him - your face reddened with a mixture of embarrassment and rage.

“Badly according to my mother,” you say, rolling your eyes as you shove another mouthful in, “Mine aren’t particularly elegant but they are edible. Well they are now anyway - there was one, a keema matar, that I made as a kid where I didn’t realise that chili develops over time. Put in roughly five tablespoons by the end. Could have been used for chemical warfare. Never lived it down but it got me out of cooking for a while.”

The table explodes in uproarious laughter, earning several odd looks from the patrons nearby.

“Well, I’m considering this an invitation to try one of your edible curries as you so eloquently call them,” Kiritopa rubs his belly in anticipation, chuckling at your modesty, “When can we get a date in the book?”

“I love a good curry, so count me in,” Dian chimes in as she pops the chickpeas like sweets into her mouth.

Marcus watches you shift uncomfortably in the spotlight of demands from your co-workers, “If I do this, I need a bigger space to work in as I can’t fit you all in my flat. I’ll need to borrow somewhere that can fit more bums.”

“Could use my apartment to cook and host, if you like?” Marcus proffers, secretly hopeful at trying some of your dishes and perhaps more than a little excited at the thought of spending some one on one time with you.

“Shall we do Sunday evening, if nothing turns up from work?” Kiritopa asks hopefully.

Marcus shrugs by way of confirmation, catching your gaze, drinking in the swirl of colours in your iris, to give you a nod.

With a sigh and a roll of the eyes, you exclaim, “Andy- what the fuck have you started? You’ve all grossly overestimated my skills, and now I am going in search of alcohol to dull my senses and make poor decisions,” you dramatically announce with a theatrical bow, “What can I get everyone?”

Seeing an opportunity open up, Marcus touches your arm as you go to leave, “It’s my round. Help me carry them?”

“Deal,” Marcus feels his heart grow as he sees your smile reach every corner of your face.

Before reaching the top of the stairs, Marcus moves himself around to walk in front of you. His body on an autopilot of manners. On reaching the bottom step, he reaches back - unthinkingly - to grab your hand so as not to lose you amongst the multitude drinking, eating and dancing the night away. The momentary panic that spread at the thought of you rejecting him recedes as your fingers thread between his.

Sending a warm smile at you over his shoulder, you follow in the wake of him quietly.

The people near the bar are flowing like rivers, never stopping for obstacles but twirling, swirling around them nevertheless Marcus guides you through, never letting go. The noise of the chatter and throb of the music surrounds you, not allowing for much verbal communication so he settles for small movements and gestures with the hand that is holding yours. When you finally arrive at the queue by the bar, that is when you can speak a bit more freely albeit in theatrical whispers in each other’s ears.

Marcus watches how the evening breeze kisses you, blowing the strands of your growing-out fringe into your face. How you gaze around and observe people whilst also managing to make him feel like he’s the only person there. The way your eyes crease into crescents when you laugh or smile and how much he wishes he could thank all those people jostling you into him. But like all moments with you, it ends too quickly as soon you’re both heading upriver against the current with your trays of drinks.

“Nush, I’ve always thought it was some kind of miracle that you never spill alcohol,” Andy teases you as you bring the drinks to their owners.

“Hah! I don’t waste the good stuff,” you mutter indignantly, “Although perhaps if we want to protect the office carpets, I should…”

“No,” Marcus mock-sternly interjects at the thought of you being drunk and the chaos that would bring, “No day drinking at work, Nush. I’d prefer the coffee stains.”

Your pout and subsequent upward glance through your eyelashes, makes Marcus turn towards the railings, hiding his thoughts in his beer.

Fuck, Nush.

If you only knew what you do to me.

“Hey Kiri, isn’t it? You playing in the tourney tomorrow?” a deep, cut glass accent calls out, cutting through the crowds surrounding them. Marcus turns towards where the sound is coming from and as he does, he catches a strange look cross your face.

“What the fuck are you doing here and how the fuck do you know Kiritopa?” The tone of your voice, narrowed eyes and furrowed brow makes Marcus turn back towards the group inquisitively.

“Nush! Haven’t seen you in a long time but you are looking amazing,” the voice is attached to a face, the kind that would stop anyone in their tracks, “can barely recognise you with makeup on- you should wear it more often.”

You breathlessly mutter, “Fuck off, that’s never going to happen.”

Good girl. Don’t put up with that BS. You’re better than that.

“I know Seb through rugby training,” then tilting his head quizzically, Kiritopa asks, “How do you know him?”

“Since school isn’t it, so what? Roughly twenty years? Through her brother, Adam as we played rugger together. Although, despite such a long time friendship, you wouldn’t let me in your knickers until more recently,” Seb shoots you a wink from over his beer.

The words burn through Marcus as he considers your connection with this man - his eyes narrowing, lips thinning. Loneliness echoing through his racing heart. He hadn’t considered you seeing anyone else- even for the briefest of dalliances but then not everyone is a serial long term monogamist.

Of course you’d have needs, you are an adult woman.

I just wish you’d explore them with me.

“Every now and then it’s nice to have an orgasm attached to a pulse that isn’t delivered by a battery,” you deliver, utterly deadpan.

Seb pretends to be mortally wounded by your words, playing dead into the chair next to yours, languidly flopping his limbs around. Oh, how Marcus would like to wipe that stupid smug smirk off his face!

For fuck’s sake, Pike. Why didn’t you sit next to her when you had the chance?

White knuckles wrapped around his nearly empty pint glass, Marcus silently watches as Seb desperately works to get your attention whilst you chat animatedly with Dian and Andy while Kiri downs the rest of his beer. He hasn’t noticed the pretty young woman with bouncing corkscrew curls observing him from amongst her friends on the next table along.

“Hey. You look like you could do with a drink, can I get you one?”

Abruptly removed from his poorly concealed glowering, Marcus raises his eyebrows in surprise at this question, pausing for some time before realising that it was aimed at him.

“Oh, look don’t worry. It was just a silly thought...” the beautifully tight curls go to withdraw from view and return to their friends.

“No, I’m sorry. I was lost in thought,” Marcus offers apologetically, “It’s been a day from hell. Let me get you a drink.”

“Wanted to talk to you as I was a bit concerned that you were about to break that glass with how tightly you were gripping it. Glass is an arse to get out of wounds so thought it better to save your hands before you come visit me in A&E,” she gently proposes, “There are better places to spend Friday nights!”

Welcoming the pretty distraction from his destructive thoughts, Marcus’ cheeks dimple as he nods, “I can imagine. Are you a doctor?”

“Yeah, for my sins,” she amusedly huffs, “And on a rare night out, so shall we go get that drink? I’m Kemi, by the way.”

✪✪✪✪✪

Oh, how you long to rip the makeup from your face! As a child, it had been a form of let’s pretend that turned into a mask to hide behind as a young adult as you experimented with finding your true self. Now, that you are established in your womanhood, you feel no need to add layers to your face other than when you are convinced it would be fun by a fast-becoming firm friend.

When Sebastian made a remark about how pretty you looked with the makeup, it made you want to run to the loo right then and there to claw it from your skin.

And what the ever loving fuck is he doing here? Fucking Sebastian of all fucking people, who you accidentally keep finding yourself fucking. You’d just come around to the idea that it might be ok to occasionally go out with people from work but when they meet people from your everyday life - your home life - that isn’t ok. Especially when that person is just a hate fuck. Great in bed but an odious human being as you can’t be that handsome and a decent person, it seems.

Unless you’re Marcus Fucking Pike.

Who is now grabbing a drink with an absolute goddess of a woman.

You couldn’t quite pinpoint why it had hurt so much when he’d walked off with her but there was such an ache deep in your tummy that could not be ignored. Between that and the appearance of fucking Sebastian, you just want to jump on the 178 home and throw on your jammies, curling up under the shit crocheted throw that you’d made during your leave - more holes than stitches. If it wasn’t for Dian, you would already be on your way there, demolishing something unhealthy from UberEats, glugging a wine or two.

Dian seems to pick up on your drop in mood and decides that it’s time for a trip to the tequila bar. With Andy’s husband now joining your rag-tag gang, you agree to chase some bitter hits of alcohol. As you wind your way among the dancers and drinkers, you see him standing by one of the upturned kegs, laughing at something she has said. You catch his eye, plaster on a smile and send him a wink in the hope that your wish for him to have fun seems genuine.

You sign to him whether he wants a drink but a small shake of his head tells you all you need to know before Dian tugs your hand back in the direction of the bar. Standing in front of the bartender, a moment of sadness washes over you until Kiri passes the salt, Seb licks your hand and the rest of the evening finally takes a softer tone after one, two, three.

The tequila in your tummy makes it hard to concentrate on what Dian and Kiri are chatting about while the three of you curl tipsily upon the comfy cushions as a large fluorescent pink, plastic sign declaring TREAT YO’SELF looms large over your heads. Excusing yourself to the loo, you walk past Marcus - steadfastly refusing any eye contact but ensuring he sees you. As you go to repeat the action on the return journey - not entirely sure as to why you feel the need to seek your boss’s attention - a hand goes to balance you as you walk down the final step.

“Whoa - steady, Nush,” you look up to see Marcus’ concerned face looking down at you.

“Hah! I’m ok. You having a good night?” You ask, your eyes searching his, “She’s truly stunning.”

“Yeah, um, were you guys doing shots?” he enquires, brow still furrowed.

“Yup. It's a really good tequila bar upstairs - should have joined us,” you jab him in the chest with an index finger, “So good that the world just looks like an impressionist painting. All swooshy and a little bit blurry.”

You watch Marcus scratching his neck, “Anyway, what on Earth are you doing here with me? Go get her, idiot.”

“Ah, here you are Bad Idea Puppy- thought you’d fallen asleep on the loo. Although that wouldn’t be the first time would it?” Sebastian brays, stepping between you and Marcus as he grabs your hand to lead you onto the dancefloor. Allowing yourself to be led away, you look back over your shoulder at him, mouthing go get her with a wink as if that would soften the pain that had appeared with her.

The music flows through you - the clearest way to communicate you have ever known- your body rolling and swaying with the sensuality of the music. Sebastian moves effortlessly around you thanks to his mother, who having had only sons, deciding that her youngest would get the dance lessons that she’d hoped the daughter she never had, would take. The two of you vent in movements all of what you could never be said between you or to anyone else aloud. As you twist together under the orange stained hazy night sky, you notice the goddess’ hand on Marcus’ face, stroking his cheek. The poisonous ache returns to your tummy and however your face contorts, causes Seb to pull you closer, cradling your head into his neck. You know how the night will end and the loneliness stings.

✪✪✪✪✪

His mouth bone dry, Marcus awakes fully dressed, on top of the comforter, with a cool bed surrounding him. Reaching for his phone, pulling the charging cable from it, he flicks through messages and emails trying to work out what had happened from when Kemi had left him in the bar to rejoin her friends. Her words still ring in his ears - you didn’t come alone tonight - when she had watched his eyes trace your path out of the market. How he’d initially thought about taking her up on her offer to help him forget, wanting to obliterate last night from his memory and lose himself in her eyes and lips. Her final words to him, cutting him to the core- she must be really special and if she is as special as you think she is, you fight for her.

Bloodshot eyes and deep creases stare back at him from the mirror. More grey. They say that age exchanges beauty for wisdom but they are the same mistakes he keeps repeating. A strangled gasp escapes him as he tries to regulate his breathing, lifting his chin trying to fill his lungs with more oxygen. His shoulders are racked by gut-wrenching sobs and like an overwhelmed dam, the tears spill in hot torrents down his cheeks. Marcus slides onto the floor, allowing the grief to pour forth.

His first marriage was too much, too soon, too young. An art historian and an artist in love with creating and observing beauty until the former decided to change tack after being recruited by the FBI. The long hours of training at Quantico, the subsequent hard days and irregular nights as he worked his way through the ranks of the Art Crime department, wrung the patience from his wife. Gradually growing further and further apart until all that was left were two strangers constantly at odds, her cutting comment about how she felt that he gave her only apathy - never coming to her when she needed help or affection. She hated him for the choices he made - feeling that his work was merely interacting with the meaningless. The law enforcer spent more time at work to hide from the inevitable ending until the artist found someone who appreciated her and the beauty she created.

As for Lisbon. Was she really ever his? Wasn’t he really just a footnote in the Patrick Jane story? The whirlwind romance that progressed and extinguished again at such a heart attack inducing pace, emphasised by that stupid-ass move to DC. Although, if it wasn’t for that move, he wouldn’t be here in London now. Oh yeah. That was out of the skillet and into the fire, Pike. Another excellent career move.

So much love to give and nowhere, no one to give it to. The lessons he has learnt and is still learning but oh, just to find that person with whom you can drop that mask and enjoy togetherness, warmth and serenity.

The side of the bath offers a solid cool support to Marcus as he sits there on the herringbone tiled floor, sobbing into his arms. There is only one voice he needs to hear right now. Grabbing a tissue from the side to noisily blow his nose into, he rubs the heels of his palms into his eyes before putting his glasses on. Phone in hand, he dials the number he knows better than his own name.

The familiar dial tone is like a lullaby in his ear, “Mamá?... Hey! How are you doing?... I’m sorry Mamá - I forgot about the time zone difference... I’m ok, just missing you… It’s just been a long week and... Yeah, London is awesome and I managed a trip to France this week which was incredible to be back there. So weird having so many different countries within such easy reach…Come visit me soon?... Thank you... I miss you… Te quiero mucho Mamá… I’ll ring you in a couple of days. Hasta luego.”

Hanging up, everything feels a bit more manageable and less painful- I wish I could bottle my Mamá’s voice. Hauling himself off the bathroom floor, he turns on the faucet to splash icy water on his face. Sniffing his t-shirt, realising the shower could wait - perhaps a good run to get the endorphins pumping would be his best move. Or perhaps a text to Nush to check what ingredients he’d need to have in for the curry tomorrow?

Stop it, Pike. You’re just fucking torturing yourself.

Opening a drawer, he pulls out basketball shorts, a clean t-shirt and a pair of sneaker socks to throw on, discarding last night’s clothes in a heap by the washing machine.

AirPods in and classic nineties dance anthems to pace himself to, he gives his quads and hamstrings a quick warm up by the front door before it is time to convert the emotional pain into miles.

One of the many things that Marcus loves about London is the constant greenery with every second corner a park or stretching heathland. Texas is so proud of its big sky country status and yet, there are parts of central London where you could lie down and not see anything but skies around you. It is truly hard not to fall in love with such a beautiful, historical and spacious city.

Pounding the pavements towards the park, his feet hit the concrete slabs softly, sending small shockwaves to his brain. Whilst Marcus knows that the power in his thighs could have him across the park in seconds, he savours each step. The precision in his movements is perfect as he takes lungful after lungful of the sunshine filled air. It feels like part of a meditation - a mindful prayer. Dodging around errant dogs and small, clumsy yet terrifyingly aggressive children on scooters, he winds his way through the avenues of trees until he comes across a small lake.

He pauses the thrumming music in his ears to just soak up the tranquility of the moment as he stretches out his limbs. The lake is the kindest of nature’s mirrors, never truly showing exactly what is above, but converting it to an image so beautifully smudgy. The weeping willow stroking its branches elegantly across the skin of the water, the clouds gliding silently above as a host of waterfowl paddle effortlessly through the cool, clear pool, all become a priceless Monet hanging in The National Gallery – all free for the looking. Sure, it is transient, changing by the day - unlike the fixed in a moment of time pieces by the grumpy old Frenchman - but that's what makes it all the more precious.

There’s a family by the water’s edge. Marcus can’t help but be amused by the toddler’s antics as they threaten to jump in and become irritated that they can’t, especially when they have their wellies on. Can’t fault that logic! The older child is gathering sticks to make a “campfire” with their dad - discarding most of their parent’s choices with withering looks and expressive rolls of the eyes. The dark-haired mom, whilst trying to reason with the toddler, is swaying with some sort of baby carrier tied around her - a tiny one clutched tightly to her chest. The infant is virtually invisible from the passes of material, only two tiny socks and its little woolly hat peeking free. A collie is also darting between and around them, rounding up his flock of sheep, taking his role as protector very seriously.

The scene makes Marcus smile as he stretches out his muscles. Whilst he can’t help but watch and yearn for something similar in his life, the mom looks up and over in his direction,

“Are you going to come over and say hi or just be a park weirdo that lurks in bushes pretending to stretch?” a familiar voice curtly teases.

Nush - what the fuck?

“Your face is a fucking picture! Take a breath - these are three of my five niblings - big one is Sophia, middle one that keeps threatening to swim in the pond is Alexa and this little dot is Oscar. As for that blundering idiot, this is Adam, my oldest brother- their dad,” gesturing towards your brother you giggle, creasing up in laughter at the sheer shock then relief on Marcus’ face, “Ads, this is Marcus, my new boss that I told you about.”

The male version of Nush outstretched his palm, offering a sympathetic look, “Hi Marcus, pleasure to put a face to a name. I’m so sorry that you have to put up with my cowbag-of-a-sister at work.”

Marcus can’t help but laugh at the friendly sniping between brother and sister, reminding him of his own teasing relationship with his sisters back home, “Hey! Your kids are beautiful. Oh, you must be Sebastian’s friend - who we saw at Model Market in Lewisham yesterday, Nush?” he questions.

“As much as Sebastian can have friends… Oh Nush, you didn’t, did you?” Adam’s face scrunches in disgust and judging in the way that only a sibling can do.

“No! Not this time,” Marcus loves the speed and vehemence to which you respond to your brother- and enjoys the sheer relief that is now guiltily coursing through his veins, “To give the man his dues, he won’t ever sleep with me when I’ve had too much to drink. Not that I was going to and not that it is any of your fucking business in the first place.” You add jabbing your brother in the softness of his tummy with every word you say.

“Nush, I was gonna text you this morning about tomorrow, if you’re still on to make the curries?” Marcus gently questions, willing you to agree.

“Hah! You’re trusting her to cook?” Adam laughs heartily at the suggestion, “I’m not sure that’s the best idea. Our mum still won’t let her near the chilli powder now.”

You growl at your brother, “I was a fucking kid at the time! And yes, I am more than happy to come and cook curries- what time suits you for me to come over? They do take a bit of time to make.”

Marcus struggles to hold back a snort of laughter, “Any time is good - and perhaps while they’re simmering, we can have some classic films on in the background?”

“Ah that sounds perfect,” your smile warming every inch of his skin.

“You sound perfect for her,” Marcus catches Adam muttering under his breath, his eyes widening at your brother’s comment.

“Shut your damn cakehole, twatface,” you slap your brother’s arm hard as you grind the words between your teeth, the two of you glaring with a mirror image of your eyebrows raised at each other.

“Um, I’d better continue my run before I cool down too much,” Marcus manages to spit out between the flushes of heat through his skin, “Great to meet you and your family, Adam. Nush, it’s lovely to see you and I’ll catch you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow, Marcus,” you smile at him before turning back towards your niblings, who are working together to create a den using an old fallen branch.

“I saw you running earlier,” Adam adds, “You’ve got a really good gait - as a physio, it’s great to see someone not destroying their joints. Do you do anything to support your running through cross training?”

“Uh no, but that’s a good idea as I don’t want any injuries. What would you recommend?” Marcus asks, genuinely intrigued and flattered by your brother’s compliment of his running style.

“Speak to Nush - yoga is perfect for stretching your IT bands, which as a man they’re generally always tight and only get tighter with repetitive movements like running or cycling. She’s the yoga queen and will know of a local teacher who can help you,” Adam grins, nodding towards his sister.

“There’s so much I have yet to learn about her,” Marcus shakes his head as he sorts out his headphones.

“Yeah, good luck with that!” Adam laughs as he pats Marcus on the back, “Anyway, enjoy the rest of your run and hopefully see you again soon.”

As Marcus gradually picks up his pace away from you and your family, his heart that had felt so dark and lonely, now feels light and airy. The release valve in his chest is finally loosened and there is a little bubble of excitement in his belly that he allows to build at the thought of tomorrow. The thought of your presence in his apartment, doing something as domestic as cooking, is truly a salve for his soul.

Perhaps he can just make believe until it becomes a reality.

Tag list of glory: @astroboots @silverwolf319@sirowsky @leonieb @disgruntledspacedad @bison-writes @the-ginger-hedge-witch @danniburgh @sugarontherims @green-socks @tardisfangurl @absurdthirst @pedropascalito @mouthymandalorian @mrsparknuts @lunaserenade @zukoyonce @agirllovespancakes @yespolkadotkitty @theravenreads @lv7867 @songsformonkeys

#josé pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #ppascaledit #pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #the mentalist #marcus pike x oc #marcus pike x oc reader #the mentalist fanfic

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cheri-translates · 4 years ago

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[CN] Love Carnival - Part 4 (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an event which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

There are five parts in total! Brace yourself for tons of fluff :>

Part 3: here

[ LUCIEN ]

Looking around the adorably and warmly decorated cafeteria, and then the little gift that came along with the meal, I’m a little confused.

A few minutes ago, we were thinking about what to have for dinner, and we walked into this warm and adorably decorated small shop.

But we didn’t expect...

MC: I really didn't think it’d be so “hardcore”.

I hold up the little gift, placing it in between Lucien and I.

It’s different from the small ornaments and objects with a feminine aura from my memories.

This cafeteria gives a heart-shaped Burr puzzle to patrons who order the couple set.

MC: The dishes are so delicious that they’re comparable to top-grade restaurants. Even the gifts they provide are just as hardcore. It’s amazing.

Lucien is tickled by my dead serious expression.

Lucien: Looks like the organiser has put in much effort, wanting to leave every visitor with unforgettable and happy memories.

MC: But giving visitors a heart which can’t be unlocked - what’s the owner of the shop thinking...

Without a proper strategy, I play with the Burr puzzle, and can’t help but grumble.

Lucien chuckles, taking this “heart” from my hand.

Lucien: With a little technique, it can be opened easily.

He sits slightly closer to me. Slowing down, he gives me a demonstration while explaining the technique of how to unlock the Burr puzzle.

With the movement of his fingertips and a gentle tug, the wooden lock, which was linked for a very long time, opens, revealing a tiny empty space in the heart which can be used to store things.

MC: Even though you’re already sick of this phrase, I still have to say - Lucien, you’re truly incredible.

Lucien: If I say that I haven’t gotten sick of this phrase, would you be willing to say it to me even more times?

Lucien turns his head over slightly to look at me. In his eyes are the familiar smile and slyness I’m most familiar with.

MC: If I say it, will I get a special prize from Professor Lucien?

After hearing this, Lucien actually ponders over it.

He narrows his eyes slightly, as though he’s facing the most complex, important, and difficult question.

Lucien: If it’s a prize...

All of a sudden, he leans over to my ear. Every gentle word brushes against my outer ear, trickling into my heart.

Lucien: Would an especially happy Lucien be enough?

MC: ...Professor Lucien, that’s called being unreasonable.

Lucien: Is that so? I even thought you’d be very satisfied with it.

Lucien blinks, pretending to be taken aback.

Just when I think of how to best turn the tables, he places the wooden mortise of the Burr puzzle, which is used to store items, in my hand.

Lucien: Want to think of what to put in here? Given its structure, I’m thinking this is a safer place to store tiny keepsakes.

MC: Yes.

I turn towards the staff at the side, asking for a few sheets of post-its and pens, and also to allowing the temperature on my face to dissipate.

After we write on our respective notes for a while, Lucien and I exchange them.

On mine, there’s a simple drawing of a man opening a lock, a handsome smile on his face.

What Lucien hands over is a sketch.

In the simple composition, in the midst of light and shadow, he impressively draws me.

The me in the picture has her head lowered, writing on the post-it note, smiling very sweetly.

MC: Now, we’re doubly satisfied!

[ VICTOR ]

We walk and pause, finally ending up before the Pendulum ride.

Pointing at the attraction, where shrill cries can be heard constantly, I think of that children’s day when he had taken the “Time Traveler” ride with me.

And how time had stopped for a few seconds during the descent.

[Note] This is a reference to Fairytale Date!

MC: Want to give this a try?

I turn my head, looking at Victor expectantly.

Victor: No.

As I expected, Victor rejects me.

MC: Victor, could you be scared?

Victor: Of course not.

His expression is stern, and he looks forward.

MC: In that case, ride it with me!

While saying this, I pull him along with me and we sit down.

There’s still some time before the ride begins. The chatter and laughter from people in the queue before us continuously drift over.

Enthusiastic visitor: A friend of mine took the Pendulum before. When it was over, he calmly said that it wasn’t much. In the end, he started puking after taking a few steps.

Happy visitor: Hahahaha, the same thing happened to my colleague. He sat for the ride in another place once, and screamed until his voice was hoarse at work the next day. He had to drink chinese medicine for the entire day.

I’m somewhat tickled by the conversations.

MC: They’re speaking so exaggeratedly. How could that be possible? What do you think?

The criticism I expected doesn’t arrive.

Finding this a little odd, I look at Victor, realising that he’s strapping on his seatbelt seriously, his expression stern.

Oh...?

I really wish I could take out my phone and snap a picture of this Victor before me.

The Pendulum truly lives up to its name.

At first, I even thought it’d be so-so.

But when the Pendulum’s amplitude grows increasingly larger, till it feels like I’m being tossed around, I can’t help but scream.

MC: Ahhhhh--

This! Is! Too! Scary!

Just when I’m forced to sit through these parabolic motions, my left hand is gently held onto by someone.

Bracing against the violent wind, I open my eyes. Victor is sitting straight and quietly in his seat. His posture is tense, yet he looks as though he’s very calm.

Amid the shrill screams, I can vaguely hear his voice.

Victor: Don’t be afraid.

Stepping off the Pendulum, I immediately grasp for the railing at the side.

However, when I see Victor’s crooked tie and slightly unkempt hair, I can’t help but burst into laughter.

This time, I don’t let this chance slip by, and keep this dishevelled Victor in my phone.

I make a decision to have this picture printed out to be placed at the bedside.

Victor: ...what are you doing this time?

MC: Nothing, nothing! Oh yes, what do you think of this attraction?

Victor: ...so-so.

MC: If you’re afraid, you can just say so. It’s a normal human reaction, and I won’t laugh at you.

Victor: I’m not afraid.

MC: In that case...

I look at Victor, my smile growing wider.

MC: Let’s ride it again!

Victor: ...

MC: You aren’t going to prove that you aren’t afraid?

Victor: Let’s go then.

MC: Eh?

Victor: Since you’re so enthusiastic about this ride, you’ll definitely experience it together with me. Am I wrong?

Seeing Victor arch his brows slightly, and turning my game against me, I respond with certainty--

MC: I’m sorry! We’ll head to another attraction right now!

[ KIRO ]

The cafeterias in the Love Carnival must have gone through a lot of designing in order for moe flowers to appear easily for couples.

Every single themed cafe is packed to the brim. I hurriedly pull Kiro, who is wearing a wig, away from these “danger zones”.

There aren’t many people in the forest right now, leaving only the rustling of leaves.

MC: It’s a good thing I thought of this scenario beforehand.

Kiro: Deng deng deng deng!

When we speak in unison yet again, we retrieve picnic mats from our individual bags, and look at each other blankly.

MC: ...I made enough for two. Did you also buy two sets?

Kiro: I was worried the cafeterias would be too crowded and we’d be hungry.

Kiro: But...

His voice grows soft, and I don’t know what he’s struggling with.

In the end, he purses his lips, turning his eyes to me.

Kiro: I didn’t buy them.

MC: ...hm?

He chuckles in embarrassment, spreading the picnic mat smoothly on the ground, and taking out food boxes from the bag.

Seeing these food boxes, I’m left slightly stunned. Based on my memory of how long I’ve known Kiro, it seems that I've never had a taste of his cooking.

Kiro: I was thinking that since today is such a special day, even if we couldn’t sit in a cafeteria to have a couple set meal, we should at least have something special. I don’t want you to be left with any regrets today, so I was wondering how to make things different for you.

Kiro: And then... [laughs sheepishly] what you see in front of you happened.

I lift up Kiro’s food box. The rice has been scooped up in a crooked manner. Although the carrots could be said to be in heart-shapes, they look more like the heads of an arrow.

In the messy omelette, the ham seems to have sneaked out secretly. Perhaps it wanted to have a breath of air after being in such an enclosed space.

The octopus sausages are like blooming fireworks, hiding in the gigantic rice ball, too shy to see anyone. Meanwhile, the sandwich looks incredibly full, and it seems to have chicken drumsticks in it.

This looks like a far from perfect bento - shoddy and clumsy.

Kiro: ...what’s in front of you is already the best attempt.

MC: How many times did you make this?!

Kiro: I’ll let it remain an undisclosed secret forever.

He places his palm on his chest, closing his eyes and saying this quietly.

Chuckling, I hand the bento that I've prepared to him. In exchange, he gives me a few minutes’ worth of praises.

MC: This seems to be the first time I’m eating what you made.

Kiro: There shouldn’t be a problem.

He looks at me with certainty. His expression is exceptionally serious, causing me to laugh aloud.

MC: Why didn’t you show this to me before?

Kiro: They weren’t good enough.

MC: Have you met your standards now?

Kiro: Of course not! I just felt... that you’d be happy with this.

His eyes are bright, akin to a sun being hidden by soft clouds which are unable to shroud the light.

This perfectionist is slowly, bit by bit, willing to display the areas he isn’t perfect in before me.

Like the tender belly of a kitten.

MC: I’m especially happy. But if something does happen, you’ll have to take responsibility.

Kiro: Of course I’ll take responsibility! Even if nothing happens, I’ll also take responsibility! [laughs] I’ll take responsibility after eating.

The afternoon sunlight is just right. The quiet forest is reminiscent of a small world, embracing us.

MC: I’ll be digging in now!

[ SHAW ]

Ghost masks on sale are hung on the dark red wall. The masks have a sense of antiquity to them, and their bewitching and bizarre appearances look utterly terrifying.

Simply standing at the entrance of the haunted house makes one feel deeply frightened. And the rule of “Only one person can enter at one time” causes several people to shrink away.

Shaw and MC: ...

Shaw: Got the guts?

MC: What’s there to be afraid of?

Shaw: You first, or me?

MC: ...I’ll go first.

With a solemn expression, I prepare to enter. However, my wrist is suddenly gripped by Shaw, and he pulls me back.

Shaw: Wait. I’ll give you something.

I can feel him stuffing something into my hand.

Unfurling my hand, I see a string of Buddhist prayer beads laying quietly in my palm.

MC: ...

Shaw: Have a pleasant journey.

In the pitch-black and narrow pathway, I bite the bullet and move forward at a tortoise’s pace. My hands continuously twist the prayer beads, muttering to myself.

MC: Whether you're a monster, demon, or ghost, don’t come and scare me, don’t come and scare me...

Thud--

Footsteps sound from behind me, and the hair on my body immediately stands on end.

I’m rooted to the spot. After a few seconds, when I muster the courage to turn around, a hand plops onto my left shoulder.

MC: !!!

At this moment, my blood seems to freeze.

I quietly wait for two seconds, but nothing happens. Suddenly, there’s a twinge of hope in my heart--

Maybe it’s Shaw!

Thinking of how he usually likes to play tricks on me, I become even more certain of my guess.

With a deep breath, I give myself some courage and turn my head.

MC: Shaw--

??: Fuu.......

MC: ...

MC: IT’S A GHOST AHHHH--

With a speed which human eyes can’t capture, I huddle and curl into a corner, using my hand to cover my left ear, sensing goosebumps spreading across my entire body.

Along with my heartrending exclamation, a stream of chuckles resound at the same time.

??: It’s me.

Silvery white electricity appears in the darkness.

The person who’s speaking walks over to me. He squats down, a smile hanging on his lips, looking as though his prank has succeeded.

Shaw: Who was the one who made a solemn vow that she wouldn’t be scared?

I glare angrily at the person before me.

MC: I knew it was you! When you deliberately scare someone, of course they’d be scared! It’s an instinctive reaction. Also, you can scare someone to death, you know!

Weakly and helplessly, I hug myself tight. My voice is also trembling slightly.

He seems to be at a slight loss. After a while, he speaks.

Shaw: ...fine, I was wrong this time.

Perhaps genuinely feeling apologetic, Shaw pauses, his voice also a little more gentle.

Shaw: Hey, want to know a way so you wouldn't be scared?

MC: ...what is it?

I lift my head from my knees in curiosity.

He offers me a hand, his eyes crinkling slightly, filled with a wilful light.

Shaw: Follow me and they won’t scare you.

Shaw and I hold hands as we continue down this cramped pathway.

Because he’s by my side, I feel much more composed.

Female ghost: I’m~ Filled~ With~ Hatred...

All of a sudden, a hand plops onto my shoulder. Shaw and I pause in our footsteps.

I subconsciously tighten my grip on Shaw’s hand. In the next moment, I feel him returning the gesture with a squeeze.

Courage fills my heart. With this, Shaw and I turn around together...

??: IT’S A GHOST AHHHH--

Another shrill cry fills the pathway.

This time, however, the cry doesn’t belong to me, but to the “female ghost” with dishevelled hair.

Shaw extinguishes the electricity in his hand. He removes the ghost masks we saw at the entrance earlier, and laughs.

Shaw: If you want to scare me, you’ve got to put in more practise.

[ GAVIN ]

MC: What should we go for next?

Gavin and I are walking along the street, searching for our next target. A row of vending machines attract my attention.

The line of vending machines contain all sorts of toy capsules. From keychains to ornaments, there’s everything one could wish for.

Especially that one containing couple keychains. The furry keychains look exceptionally adorable.

I notice that Gavin has paused in front of one vending machine.

It’s a vending machine containing robots.

I vaguely recall watching a cartoon related to it when I was young. However, I wasn’t very interested in it, and never really understood it.

However, this looks like something Gavin would like.

MC: Gavin, there’s one vending machine I’d like to try. Could you wait here for me?

Gavin: Coincidentally, I do too.

I grin, nodding at him.

MC: Let’s split up and get the toy capsules we want, and we’ll meet back here later?

When we meet up again, I place the toy capsule in Gavin’s hand with satisfaction.

MC: Open it and take a look? Do you like it?

Gavin twists the toy capsule open, and surprise flashes across his eyes.

Gavin: I like it.

While he speaks, he pieces it together simply, letting the small, monochrome robot stand in his palm.

The little robot is holding a gun in one hand, and a shield in the other. Behind it is a structure resembling a one-sided wing.

On top of its circular head is a yellow antenna. Along with its four short limbs, it looks extremely cute.

Gavin: This is my favourite model.

MC: I got it randomly, and didn’t expect to get the right one.

Gavin: I was lucky too.

Gavin smiles, takes out a toy capsule, and opens it.

It happens to be the furry couple keychains I saw earlier.

One of them has soft and long ears, while the other has straight, sharp ears.

Gavin keeps the one with sharp ears, then carefully attaches the doll with the long ears on my bag. Pleased, he nods.

Gavin: Mm, it suits you.

Gavin keeps the little robot in his pocket, and the keychain swings next to me.

Seeing the gifts we’ve exchanged, sweetness brims from the depths of my heart.

MC: Having been with you for such a long time, I feel that my knowledge has been expanded.

Gavin: I've learnt quite a lot too.

Gavin pauses, then continues confidently.

Gavin: For instance, that the lipstick you're wearing today is the colour of red bean paste. And that you’ve curled your fringe slightly.

Pleasantly surprised, I blink and want to give him a round of applause for his perfect answer.

MC: What else?

Gavin: Also, that I have to separate the white from the yolk when making fried rice. And that succulents don’t need that much watering.

MC: Then... what are the steps to preparing sliced fish boiled in chilli oil?

Probably not expecting that I’d suddenly pose a question, he ponders it carefully before responding in an exceptionally solemn manner.

Gavin: I can’t explain it right now, but I noted it down in my notes.

After he finishes speaking, we look at each other, then laugh in unison.

MC: Gavin, tell me more about this robot. And about basketball, motorcycles, planes and all the things you like.

Gavin: Okay. I’m hoping that you’d give me more cooking classes too.

The corners of his lips curl upwards slightly, and fragments of sunlight flash in his eyes.

Gavin: I want to have an even better understanding of everything to do with you.

Part 5: here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers

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pluto-writes · 4 years ago

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A/N: I don’t have time for a whole alphabet but! I picked out three I thought would be fun! Plus I added Haru cause author powers. Not proofread, it’s 1 am and I’m moving later askjfh o(╥﹏╥)o I was gonna post this after ep 3 but I might be late to watching it.

Words: 1,290

Daisuke Kambe

Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

The two of you enjoy wine tasting together. Before meeting him, you never really thought much about wine, but after he suggested it, it quickly became a good way to pass time.

You even learned how to properly hold a glass of wine after you messed up the first time.

“Allow me,” Daisuke took the glass of wine out of your hand. “You’re holding all wrong, look.” Instead of holding it by the bowl like you did, he rested his hand along the base of the glass.

“It’s imperative to hold it here since if you had continued to hold it like that, it would’ve ruined the perfect temperature. Wine tastes best chilled.”

“Is that so!? I never knew that! What else do you know about this?” You were genuinely interested in what he had to say.

You listened intently to everything he was telling you, coming from him it all sounded important and you wanted to be able to do this again with him.

The night ended too soon for your liking. “I had fun today Daisuke, thank you. I hope we can do something like this in the near future.”

“I had a good time as well. Until we see each other again, (Y/n).”

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

At first, he planned on winning you over by getting you an expensive gift. But after spending time with you, he noticed that you didn’t really care about his money.

That you weren’t like other people who were only after his money, that you honestly spent time with him simply because you wanted to, without any ulterior motives.

After coming to this conclusion, he ended his previous plan and came up with a new one. He decided that he’ll take you to all your favorite places, and at the last place he’ll open his heart to you and tell you how he really feels.

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

To the untrained eye, Daisuke’s feelings for you go unseen. He isn’t very telling when he has a romantic interest. His only tells are that he gives you more attention than other people he talks to.

He mostly shows his affection towards you through gifts, but it was hard at first to get you to accept them. You didn’t feel like you deserved any of the lavish gifts you were receiving, especially since you couldn’t get anything good for him.

What could you possibly get for a man who could buy literally anything???

Seeing how you reacted with gifts, he tried a different approach Haru told him to do.

“(Y/n)-san, great work out there today.”

His compliment had definitely caught you off guard, and you responded better than he thought you would. Plus he got to see you get flustered over it.

He did this a couple more times till he finally confesses to you.

Haru Kato

Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Haru loves to cook with you, he just finds those moments spent cooking are tender and kind. If you need help cooking, he will not let that opportunity go to waste and will use that to get closer to you.

“See,” he demonstrated by closing his hand into a fist, “it’ll be easier to cut the vegetable this way. And you won’t get hurt as easily.” He continued to show you by slicing into the cucumber. His movements with the knife were smooth and confident.

Stopping halfway, he handed the knife over to you, “Now you try.” Nodding, you grabbed the knife from him. As you went to copy what he had just shown you, your movements were slow and unsure.

Before you could even ask for help, Haru leaned over from behind you, his hand cupping over your own, “I’ll guide you, okay?”

“Thank you,” you allowed him to direct your movements. His hand was warm and comforting as it laid on top of yours, almost as if he was protecting you.

Soon enough it was over, the remaining cucumber had been sliced by you, thanks to the help of Haru, of course. “I knew you could do it!”

“Thank you! It was all because I had an amazing teacher to walk me through it,” You smiled at him as you watched his face turn red due to your unexpected compliment.

“A-Ahh! Of course! It’s no problem, I’ll help you anytime!”

“Is that so? I’ll hold you to it then!”

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Things don’t usually like to work in Haru’s favor, and this was one of them.

Kamei found out about his crush on you, and made it his life achievement to tease him about until he confessed to you.

“Be honest with me, I know the only reason you like them is because they’re cute, right?” He teased. But he picked the wrong thing to say since Haru quickly shot down that thought.

“I wouldn’t like (Y/n) for something as superficial as looks! (Y/n) is the most hardworking person I’ve ever met and they don’t let anything get in their way! And that’s just one of the many reasons why I love them!”

“You do!?” Your voice broke through the air, causing Haru to tense up. “Do you really mean it!?”

Taking this as his queue to leave, Kamei left the scene unnoticed, though he doubted it was that hard since with you there, he may as well not even exist to Haru.

Turning to you, he nodded hesitantly, “Y-yes! Every word of it… I meant it all!”

“Then… does that mean you’ll tell me some of the other reasons? Over coffee, maybe?”

“Definitely!” After you both confirmed a date, Haru walked in the opposite direction you were headed before running back up to you. “Wait, this means you like me too, right!?”

You leaned in towards him and placed a tender kiss on his cheek, “Does this answer your question?”

After you pulled away, you noticed how shocked he was along with his dazed out expression. A couple seconds passed and he was still frozen. Before things could last any longer, Kamei came back and picked up Haru, who didn’t put up any resistance.

“Bye (Y/n)! Haru will see you on your date! Later!”

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

He’s very obvious about his feelings for you, and you don’t need to be a detective to tell that Haru likes you. Kamei was the first to notice that he liked you since whenever you were around him, Haru would get this blissed out look and have a light blush on his face.

His mind would go blank and he’s completely numb to everything else that isn't you. His focus would solely be on you.

He’d attempt to express his feelings for you subtly, like he’ll buy something for you that reminded him of you. When he first did this he bought you a small bear shaped figure. “I saw it while walking home the other day, and it made me think of you... “

He saw your shocked face as he gave it to you, once you overcame that your countenance turned happy, “Thank you! I’ll cherish it forever! It’s very cute!”

“Just like you…” He mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

#fugou keiji balance: unlimited #daisuke kambe #haru kato #daisuke kambe x reader #haru kato x reader #kambe daisuke x reader #kato haru x reader #haru katou #plutowrites #fugou keiji balance: unlimited x reader

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lifeinahole27 · 5 years ago

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Fic Bits 2019

Well, this is a little later than I usually post these, but I’m sure we can all agree that it’s been a hell of a year already. All posted in one go because I had a lot of trouble writing during this last round and did the absolute best I could. I hope you all enjoy!!

Included in this pack:

“Scream and Shout” - Emma wants to find out if mindreading is real.

“A Regular Pair of Grinches” - They’re mostly impartial to each other, but their friends want them to be more than that.

Lethologica: Behind the Scenes - Conversations that happen when our lovers aren’t around.

My Eyes, They Speak for Me: The continuation I always wanted to write but never did.

On the Two: A Peek into the Future - So fluffy and sweet it’ll make your teeth rot.

“A Long Time Coming” - Every year, I write a Frozen Jewel bit for @xpumpkindumplingx because I love her and I know how much she loves them. This year was no different. Sprinkles of CS included so it can be enjoyed by all!

“Scream and Shout”

It’s not that she really believes in the supernatural powers that people claim to have. There’s no definitive proof. People go on talk shows and spout stories but the most they do is a “demonstration” that could easily be some rehearsed nonsense that she chooses to reject as reality.

But the strangest thing keeps happening at work. In the bullpen in her office, she keeps a running monologue of jokes or comments, things she thinks to herself but doesn’t say out loud to anyone because the last thing she wants or needs is HR on her ass. Twice now she’s noticed after particularly amusing comments to herself, she’s heard chuckling across the way. But it has to be a coincidence. She doesn’t believe in telepathy. Doesn’t believe in any of this stuff.

But just for fun, she starts to keep track of the timing. She keeps track of who’s in the room when it happens. And she decides to test some theories. She tries talking to whoever may be listening, but there’s no answer. She tries thinking numbers to see if anyone gets frustrated or loses their concentration.

Finally, she’s standing at the water cooler one day and she goes for the big one: in her mind, she screams as loud as she can –

And there it is. Killian flinches. Killian. The man she’s had an office crush on since he started working here three months ago.

But how can she get him to admit it?

It’s not like she can just walk up to him and ask if he’s a telepath – not without sounding rude, or admitting that she was the one that just screamed in his head. So she bides her time and tries to put it behind her.

It isn’t until one day when they’re getting ready to leave that she has a chance to prove it. They’re the last ones in the office, so Emma starts asking Killian to bring her something from his side of the office.

“Sure, Swan. Do you need the hole-punch as well?”

When he looks around, Emma is nowhere to be seen. His shoulders slump, and he sighs.

“Fine. I’m sorry. I swear I don’t do it all the time, but you come in loud and clear in my head for some reason.”

Emma steps out from around the wall she was hiding behind on the other side of the room. “Why’s that?”

“Probably because I’ve fancied you since the first time I saw you,” he says, pausing and rubbing a spot behind his ear. “Well, when you stopped yelling at me for queueing before you in the copy line.”

“Can you hear me all the time?”

“No. I actively try not to listen, but when I’m not listening to music while working, your comments and jokes come out loud and clear above the rest of our coworkers.”

She wanders a little closer, propping against the cubicle wall as he drops back into his chair. “That sounds awful, actually.”

“Not when it’s you,” he admits quietly, chancing a look up at her. “But only when you aren’t screaming.”

It’s Emma’s turn to look sheepish for once. “Sorry. I just… I needed to find the proof.”

“Please forget I ever asked if the answer is no, but would you like to grab coffee? You could pick my brain… so to speak.”

For once, Emma takes the chance and says yes.

After a year of dating, he still sometimes listens to her thoughts, but this time he has her permission. At least he gets it loud and clear when she starts hinting that he should propose.

The ring is just as she imagined and everything.

-x-

“A Regular Pair of Grinches”

They’re not really friends – not in a traditional way, anyway. They met through mutual friends and were always the solo ones, so they had to form a friendship so their friends would stop trying to shack them up with each other.

It’s only at mutual functions that they see each other, though, never going out of the way to see each other beyond what their friends put together and invite them to.

During the Christmas party, they get sick of everyone trying to line them up under the mistletoe. Emma is the one that suggests the heist, and Killian goes right along with the plan. When everyone else is occupied with a story that Emma is telling them, he reaches up and snags the little sprig and shoves it in his pocket.

Twelve minutes later (they timed it, after all) Snow realizes her precious little plan has come undone.

Of course, everyone immediately realizes it was Emma and Killian, and they’re soon banished to another room for being general Grinches during the season.

“Maybe if they hadn’t tried this like a million times,” Emma grouses as she flops onto the couch in their “prison.”

“For some reason, Swan, we’re the only ones that seem to realize we are adults with agency and we can choose to do whatever we’d like.”

“Hell yeah we are!” At this statement, Emma produces a bottle of rum from where she’d stashed it away earlier.

“Have I ever told you that I adore you?” Killian asks as he reaches for the bottle.

“Not everyone can be this pretty and a genius. You’re welcome.”

It’s somewhere after the fourth shot that they end up next to each other on the couch, with Emma’s legs thrown over Killian’s lap and his hand gently resting on one of her shins.

It’s after the sixth shot that they end up snuggled together spooning on the – admittedly, very comfortable – couch.

It’s when they wake up that Killian digs the mistletoe out of his pocket and stares at it in the dim light of morning.

And it’s when Emma wakes up and sees him holding it above their heads that she reacts, turning his face towards hers and kissing him with everything she’s got.

They’ve both got morning breath and she’s sure her makeup is fucked up beyond repair, but the way he’s holding her makes her feel… cherished. She’s not sure she’s ever felt that way before.

When they break apart, they’re both smiling. This is normally where Emma would run, but there’s something about it being Killian that stops her from doing that.

It’s only later that they realize that they were covered with a blanket, realizing Snow must’ve come in and tucked them in at some point.

Sure enough, she looks like a cat that got the cream when they finally make it in for breakfast.

The next time they share a bed, it’s actually a bed, and there are a lot less clothes involved.

They’re not really friends – they’re more like… lovers.

-x-

Lethologica: Behind the Scenes

Of course everyone knows long before the wedding where Emma and Killian blatantly make out in the middle of the reception hall. This stems from Mary Margaret and Ruby speculating over their girl-date coffees one day.

Ruby asks pretty early on: “Have you noticed anything weird about Emma and Killian?”

“Oh, thank god I’m not the only one,” Mary Margaret breathes out, making sure to lower her voice as she continues. “I think they’re sneaking around behind our backs.”

“How long?”

“So Killian came to the diner one day with this look and Emma was too smug about something.”

“They’ve been a lot more affectionate on nights out. They hide it really well but they’re almost always touching.”

“Didn’t they always touch before?”

“It has a different feel to it, Mary Margaret. Can’t you see it?”

“I can see it. But do you think they can see it?”

They stare at each other for a solid ten seconds before they both burst out laughing, thankful for the secluded corner of the little coffee house they go to when they don’t want to go to Granny’s.

“Nope,” Ruby says.

“Not a chance. How long do you think before they realize they’re in love?”

“No clue, but it’ll probably take something small to push them over the edge. They’re really just…” she trails off, seeing David approaching and knowing that he doesn’t need to know anything about this yet. “A couple of potatoes with the recipe.”

“What?”

“You making something new for dinner?” David asks as he leans down and places a kiss to the crown of Mary Margaret’s head.

“Oh! Uh, yeah. Ruby was telling me about this… potato recipe.”

“I love potatoes. Twice baked?”

“Probably by now,” Ruby mutters, causing Mary Margaret to choke on the sip of her coffee.

“Something like that. You’ll see tonight,” she says when she clears her airway. Since Ruby is already occupied on her phone, Mary Margaret can only assume that she’s trying to find interesting potato dishes to send along.

After witnessing the clear intimacy between Emma and Killian at the dining out, Ruby sends Mary Margaret a text message.

“THE POTATOES ARE MASHED! I REPEAT! THE POTATOES ARE MASHED!!”

“I JUST GOT ENGAGED!!” comes the reply right after, which causes an entirely different freak-out in Ruby.

The night ends, and as Ruby and Mulan head back to their room, Ruby holds on to Mulan’s hand tightly.

“David and Mary Margaret got engaged tonight,” Ruby says quietly in the stillness of the hallway. “And we now have proof that Emma and Killian are together.”

“Everyone is going to get hurt when the orders become official,” Mulan says, keying into their room and closing the door firmly behind Ruby.

Ruby turns and kicks off her shoes, but Mulan is right behind her, spinning her and resting her cheek against her girlfriend’s shoulder.

“You’ll help him get through the deployment, yeah?”

“You know I will,” Ruby responds, wrapping her arms around Mulan and already planning how to tackle this next hurdle in all their lives.

-x-

My Eyes, They Speak for Me: After

Returning to Storybrooke is not exactly the weirdest thing that’s happened in her life lately. She did defeat her ex-boyfriend after he turned into a flying monkey, after all.

No, the only thing that makes their return weird is the fact that she and Killian are dating.

That she has to explain to her parents that she and Captain Hook have formed a bond that she never even thought possible. Especially not after everything she’s been through in her life.

But here they are, entering the town, with Henry oblivious to the weight hovering over the adults in the front seat. Emma holds onto Killian’s prosthetic hand like it’ll make everything better. She doesn’t even know if her parents are going to remember her.

Thankfully, they do.

Everyone remembers everything that happened before Pan’s curse. But there’s a whole missing year. All they knew is for the last couple months they’ve been here, still trying to figure out what happened, unable to find out in any way if Emma was alive and okay, and just… stuck in limbo.

Also, her mother is very pregnant. Like, about to burst pregnant. And has a creepy midwife with fiery red hair and a weird personality. Like some kind of twisted Mary Poppins.

Emma’s the first one to figure out that she’s the Wicked Witch. She did not anticipate the whole angle where Zelena is Regina’s sister, but she can appreciate the fact that she never thought the family tree around here would get more fucked up.

She has a thought several times while they’re trying to track down this crazy witch that she should just take Henry and Killian and high-tail it back to NYC. And she and Killian actually argue about it at one point, because she is convinced that after this is all over she just wants a normal life with her son and her boyfriend.

That’s not so much to ask, is it?

But then she’d have to leave her parents behind, and when it becomes clear that Zelena is after the newborn that is expected soon, Emma decides she can’t leave.

And then the whole Neal incident happens and that is a lot to take in, and try to explain to Henry who still doesn’t have his memories back.

When Zelena is finally locked away in a cell in the psychiatric ward, and after they’ve taken the time to officially lay Neal to rest, Emma sits down with Henry. Thankfully, Regina finally came through with a memory potion, so it makes it all a little easier, but Emma still has to talk to him about what losing his father for real this time means, and how they’re going to move forward.

It turns out when there are flying monkeys and another story come to life, it’s easy to explain to your parents that you’re dating a pirate. And while eventually she’d like to get her own place (story of her life) she does give up the bigger room at Granny’s in favor of moving into a smaller one with Killian.

Just for now.

They do have all the time in the world to get to the next step.

Until a portal opens up where their final battle with Zelena took place and she and Killian are the ones to check it out…

-x-

On The Two: A Peek into the Future

Five years later, they’re married and move home to Storybrooke after they have a beautiful daughter that they name after the camp. Emma and Ruby have both moved on from dancing at the hotel to pursue other interests.

Emma has gone back to teaching. She gives lessons in Storybrooke to locals and tourists, and still teaches every summer at Camp Hope.

Killian is also teaching, on top of his general maintenance jobs with David. He went back for certifications to teach classes on managing addictions, specifically an unhealthy relationship with alcohol, and he also talks with amputees and their friends and loved ones about how to cope with the loss of a limb.

He and Emma do a schedule of week on/week off at camp so that Hope is with one of them as often as possible.

Sometimes, they both stay home for a week with David and Snow’s son, Leo, and they contemplate having another of their own as they watch Hope playing and exploring – they’d love to see what she would do with a sibling of her own. Mostly they haven’t yet because they know they’ll officially have to give up the loft in order to live comfortably.

Other weeks, David and Snow take both the kids and Emma and Killian stay at the campsite.

They use those weeks to pretend they aren’t actively trying for another baby but there’s still a trill to sneaking out on the back balcony of the Owners’ Lodge, making love with the sight of the horizon and the ocean as their passion ebbs and flows.

Emma sometimes still can’t believe how her life has come together.

She wakes early one morning to the soft strains of a song they’ve used for the Waltz before, and she eases out of the bed upstairs, careful not to make a single noise so she can see what her husband is up to.

He’s standing in the middle of the floor on the other side of the breakfast bar, Hope in his arms, gliding through the steps and dramatically dipping Hope to her obvious delight.

She’s so happy that she lets out a high-pitched giggle, pressing her little hands to Killian’s cheeks.

He laughs quietly, bracing her against his body with his other arm so he can hold his finger to his lips to remind her to stay quiet.

As quietly as she can, she slips back to the bed to get her phone off the charger, crawling back over to brace under the handrail to take video of the two of them.

When the song ends, she locks her phone and stands up to applaud, even giving a little whistle of appreciation.

“Your mum’s awake, little love.”

“And she’s pregnant,” Emma says, probably far too bluntly since she actually hears Killian’s neck crack with how swiftly he turns his head to look up at her.

“Aye?”

“Yep. Calling the doctor today to confirm it. But yeah.”

“Why don’t we go into the kitchen to make your mum a perfect breakfast, hmm?” He turns to look up at her again, making sure their eyes are locked. “I love you,” he tells her, heart in his expression.

“I love you, too,” she says back, quietly, and while Hope has no idea what’s even being said, she goes off on a string of “la la la” to tell them each she loves them.

-x-

“A Long Time Coming”

There’s a camaraderie that comes from having rich guardians that want nothing to do with you, and that’s what the Arendelle sisters and the Jones brothers find out after their first Christmas in the Alps.

Elsa is sixteen when she and Killian discover that with their combined efforts, they can raise havoc at the ski resort. From that point on they are BFFs.

Three years of their antics go by quickly, and the staff at the lodge becomes their family more than Brennan Jones or Ingrid ever could be.

Liam is a constant wise source of guidance. Anna is always the annoying little sister. Killian wears his heart on his sleeve at all times. Elsa… has a problem.

She has a ridiculous, unquenchable crush on Liam. When she was 17 it was just a silly little thing, but by the time she’s 20, it’s no longer “just” anything. But the seven year age gap makes her think that Liam probably thinks of her as more as a little sister than anything else.

The years pass and they grow, year by year, milestone by milestone. Killian is Kristof’s best man at his and Anna’s wedding. Elsa is the one that almost literally drops Emma in Killian’s lap when she sees the potential they could have together. Year after year, though, things are never in line for her own love life.

She dates, with mixed results, but there’s no spark that makes them last.

Over the course of ten years, they all bounce around each other. They handle love and disasters, heartbreak and celebrations. And still Elsa feels like she’s just a satellite around Liam at some of these events. She only really ever sees him during the holidays unless there’s a big event in their lives, so at least she has those times to look forward to. But mostly it’s to watch from afar as they each dwell in their own relationships.

She’s single when he’s not, he’s single when she’s not.

And then she turns twenty-eight. And she’s single. And he’s single. And they’re in the same place at the same time which is all feeling a lot like a miracle when she can’t remember the last time this even happened. And someone has posted mistletoe in the entrance of their cabin this year.

She’s pretty sure it was Killian, because he’s getting ready to propose to Emma and they’re adorably (if not sickeningly) in love.

On a return trip from the main lodge to grab dinner for everyone, she finds the cabin empty… or at least so it seems. Because Liam is waiting to help her bring in the food. He’s standing in the doorway.

Directly beneath the mistletoe.

She doesn’t know which one goes for it first, but the food gets left on the entryway table while they make out beneath a dumb piece of greenery.

It’s Emma that finds them snuggled on the couch about a half hour later, with Liam planting a small, gentle kiss on her lips. Her smile is self-satisfied, and knowing, and she subtly ushers everyone else out of the room to eat their dinners and leave Elsa and Liam in peace.

It’s Killian later on who tells her that Liam’s had eyes for her for years. But the timing was never right.

So the mistletoe was definitely planted by him, but intended for Liam and Elsa.

The next year they go, there’s a shiny ring on Emma’s finger, Anna announces she and Kristof are expecting, and Elsa and Liam celebrate their anniversary.

All in all, while they all have tragedy in their pasts, they turn out right where they need to be.

#cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan ff #sarah writes ff #fic bits 2019

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nossbean · 5 years ago

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Top 7 comfort movies

I’m roughly 12 years late to the party but I was tagged by @ajoblotofjunk and @ilikeblue ! Thanks so much!

So confession up front - when looking for comfort stuff I actually tend towards TV! So here’s a mix of comfort media XD Also, like, in which I ramble only semi-coherently about things I love. 😅

1. Singin’ in the Rain

I... have no deep reasons for loving this. I just - I love Cosmo Brown. I love tap dancing. I love the earnestness of this whole flick and the OT3-ness that is just, like, everywhere in this damn movie. The songs are catchy, the dancing is impressive as all get out, it’s a lot of fun. The dorky scenes about enunciation - even if I could do without the sexist overtones to Lena’s storyline. I used to work in TV, so the stuff about where to put the mics was RELATABLE (if... not exactly the same ofc). The cast is attractive. There is 1 space mom (Debbie Reynolds) and 1 space aunt (Cyd Charisse) in it, which tickles me xD

Let’s see, I’ve given random headcanons on Singin’ before, but let’s go with this one. When watching it the first time in my twenties and “Make ‘em Laugh” came on, my pal said with such deep earnest and pained joy, “Cosmo is doing all this just to make Don laugh,” and I think about that every time I watch that sequence.

THE LOVE. it’s eVERYWHERE.

2. Parks and Recreation

Look, I can totally see how Parks & Rec isn’t for everyone. But to me, it’s a half-hour long televisual hug of people doing their best to love each other and make the world better, with helpings of political commentary and utterly absurd comedy. It definitely doesn’t come without caveats and is already dated in some ways, but in a weird way, I appreciate that Schur & Goor have grown in their politics that missteps taken in P&R aren’t repeated in and are often actually rectified in B99 & The Good Place. I deeply, deeply love the relationship between Ben and Leslie, and how hard Leslie loves: people, Pawnee, politics, public service. The families-of-choice vibes are strong in this one and there are few things I am more of a suck for than families-of-choice. I could ramble endlessly on this one, so I’ll cut myself off there.

Anyhoops, I have very many feelings about P&R and if you’ve been wondering whether to watch it but holding back for whatever reason, please DEFINITELY message me and I will share with you my many thoughts on why you should watch, where there might be squicks, and why you should actually start with season 2, episode 21 (yes, even the completionists amongst you).

Bonus gif:

3. Jurassic Park

... I love dinosaurs, and I love Dr Ellie Satler. She is amazing and if there was a gif of her with the triceratops I would have chosen that one. Between her general personality/competency, her unabashed feminism and her face, she remains the best 🥰Also I appreciate that Lex also got to save the day, in a way v specific to her skillset and that the film didn’t dismiss her despite being v scared and way outside her comfort zone in the outdoorsy survival parts of the film.

I also have fond memories of going to see it for my sixth birthday and going to the bathroom when the T-rex eats Gennaro, so not totally understanding why all my pals were terrified when I got back. Ofc I then had fears that a t-rex would stomp and crush our home, but *handwaves* I grew out of that fear. And grew a new one.

4. Avatar: the Last Airbender

Ho-hum. Where to start with Avatar. Lmao, in the context of Game of Thrones (to which it has been ofc compared lately) just having a long-form television show which delivers on the vast majority of its themes and premises is a relief and satisfying. But, I liked Avatar long before I was back in the GOT-verse so. It’s a compelling narrative, carefully constructed and mindful of the stories and values it’s putting out into the world. And those stories, values and themes aren’t light. It tackles war, genocide, familial abuse, revenge, and redemption alongside things like building family, accepting differences, forgiveness, and honesty. That said, it balances those things with children-being-children, and moments of grace and humour. Each character is well-drawn, their personalities and choices respected, and the idea that character-drives-plot is masterfully demonstrated. Hey look - we’ve got some families-of-choice vibes here too!

I think I’ve previously rambled in the tags of a post about Katara specifically. But as someone who has, ah, an appreciation for anger and an awareness that women + anger = bad, societally speaking, Katara was a breath of fresh air. She is as compassionate as she is angry, and while there are philosophical differences between characters when it comes to her acting on her anger, the anger itself is never questioned or denigrated, by other characters or by the narrative itself. Her anger is never used as a tool to invalidate her other characteristics, or the reverse (her compassion, her nurturing side, etc, are never used to invalidate her anger), and she means a lot to me.

Also idk what this is but it came up when I searched Avatar and if I have to see it and be slightly confused and embarrassed then so do you:

5. Pacific Rim

lmao I rambled so much about the past few I’m tempted to just say: I JUST LOVE IT OK. Which is true, but. A bit more. Pacific Rim is like two hours of hope. I think I have in my queue a post that describes the relationship between Mako and Raleigh as two hurt & hardened warriors who nonetheless find softness with each other, and that is 100% true. But that ignores how in many ways, the same is true for Stacker and Mako, and even Stacker and Raleigh to degrees. Stacker’s adoption of Mako is very important. A black man with an East London accent being the most vital person in the movement to save the world is important. The multi-national, scrappy and semi-guerilla response to a weird af global threat, and the related deep humanity in facing the end of the world and hoping against hope that there’s a chance, also deeply resonant.

It’s also stunning: Guillermo del Toro and his colour schemes, y’all. The fight scenes are so GOOD and INTERESTING and just so blatantly done by someone who knew exactly what they were doing and loved every minute of it. The idea of the drift and of drift compatibility is lovely: that philosophical belief in the interconnectedness of people. The (somewhat blink-and-you-miss-it) background class commentary (del Toro, icu) 👏.

And, ofc, as with many on this list: the centering of Mako, the dedication to playing out the full emotional arc, of her having complex emotions which are respected and acknowledged by other characters and the narrative... yes please thank you.

6. Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries

Women being competent and supported is deeply comforting. I’ve particularly found myself rewatching MFMM as the world is on fire. Just - watching Phryne build her family (families of choice!) and her community, get her men, and win the day through cleverness and determination is heartening.

7. The Holiday

I love Kate Winslet’s arc in this. But honestly I think much of my love for this centres on the fact that I saw it when v much longing to move to the UK and it is the most charming/romantic portrayal of Britain and that appealed to 20 y-o K who was so desperate to go. That said, the arc between Iris & Arthur (eg the gif below) makes me cry every time, so there’s that.

As mentioned, I’m v late to this game so I don’t know who’s been tagged! If you haven’t done it yet, please consider yourself tagged & let me know when you’ve done it! (Yes, I definitely do mean you!)

#movie meme #play with me tag #i ran out of steam a bit at the end there oops #gunna add the #long post #tag to this coz i rambled a lot #asjkjklagsa

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kamerontwph034 · 5 years ago

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canyouhearthelight · 4 years ago

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The Miys, Ch. 144

After much demand, Kink Night at the Undine has arrived. This chapter is really fun, was informative to write, but if you need to skip it, you won’t miss out on the overall story. So, trigger warnings on this chapter for:

- Bondage (mentions of)

- Pegging (possible mention of?)

- Impact play (discussed, both done wrongly and demonstrated correctly)

- Topping and bottoming

To be clear: These are all mentioned from the perspective of a non-participant, non-voyeur. I would probably overall rate this chapter appropriate for 14 years and older, but your mileage may vary. However, kink in general can be very healthy if done correctly, and this chapter was double beta-read, not only by @baelpenrose but also by @charlylimph-blog for accuracy of the scene. This actually prevented a PROFOUND mistake from making it to queueing, so I am super grateful for their help.

Once I was released from medical after an unnecessarily long lecture from Noah, I found I had a message waiting from Charly with a date and time to meet at the Undine. Right below that was a message from Sebastian with a uniform-slash-dresscode of sorts.

Aw nuggets. I had forgotten what night it was.

There wasn’t time to grab clothes from my quarters, but my office was on the way to the bar, so I stopped by to change. Socks and shoes were a bit of a challenge, since I generally didn’t wear either, so I had to find a vendor to help me fill in the gaps. Granted, shoes weren’t specified in Sebastian’s list. However, there was exactly a zero percent chance that I was going to lend a hand at a kink party while barefoot. Just… no. Nope. Not happening.

I wiped my palms nervously against my slacks when I arrived, not sure exactly what to expect. Charly and I had talked about it, but none of that knowledge wanted to make its presence known at the moment, apparently. Instead, my mind kept drifting to what in the actual hell she had roped Arthur into doing. The door opened entirely too soon to reveal a smiling Charly, who grabbed my arm and dragged me behind her to the small group already gathered.

All of my nerves were forced from my body by the sputtering laughter I fell victim to when I saw Arthur - I still had no idea what he would be doing, but he looked like someone took a post-apocalyptic movie hero and hit a button labelled ‘make him a villain’ a few too many times. The leather jacket and motorcycle pants were fairly innocuous, since I knew he actually owned both and neither were terribly uncommon on the Ark. Same thing held for the boots - they were just practical in the After and several people held on to that preference with a death grip.

“Cloak’s a nice touch,” I snorted, trying desperately to ignore the campier bits of his outfit.

I was dangerously close to losing it when he scowled and adjusted the laurel crown - I mean, really? - resting on his head. “I knew I shouldn’t have cut my hair this morning,” he muttered. “Damned thing won’t sit right anymore.”

Charly clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Okay, one more run through of what everyone will be doing!”

Sebastian nodded seriously and flicked a towel over his shoulder before handing me an apron. “Sophia has kindly agreed to prep the snacks, while I serve and clean behind people. She’ll clear any dishes in between batches, and one or the other of us will do a lap of the floor every fifteen minutes to ensure everyone is hydrated and there’s no need for medical attention.” He winked at the relief on my face.

Cooking, clearing plates, and momming people into staying hydrated. I could do that.

Arthur brushed off his pauldrons, only forcing me to confront the fact that they were shaped like skulls again, before straightening with aplomb. “I will be Dungeon Master, keeping an eye on everything from there,” he pointed to a scaffold that had been put into place over the bartop, “And intervening as needed if things get out of hand.” Without so much as a twitch of question from me, he explained. “Charly and Coffey can’t be everywhere at once, so I get to perch on high, look ridiculous, and play bouncer if Coffey can’t get there first.”

“Yep,” Charly nodded seriously. For all that she normally seemed built out of chaos and energy, this was Boss Lady Charly. “Let’s keep it safe, sane, and consensual across the board. Speaking of!” She pulled two badges from seemingly nowhere. “Soph, Bash, these are for you.” I took one and immediately grinned when I read it. Staff Only - I Do Not Consent. “If either of you want to play, go for it, but otherwise, probably wear those. Sexy librarian and millionaire CEO are tropes that exist, so ya know - no confusion for anyone. Any questions, concerns, cries for help?” When we all shook our heads, she clapped again. “Okay, off you go! Thanks everyone.”

Sebastian tilted his head toward the kitchen and I followed, wiping my hands on my legs again. “Thank you for agreeing to help with snacks. I know Charly already told you, but I am not the greatest at finger foods that don’t make a mess or won’t be too heavy.”

I hummed for a second before making a few suggestions. “Macaroni and cheese bites, they’re about this big.” I made a circle about an inch and a half across with my fingers. “Just pop and go. Pigs in blankets, the kind with cocktail sausages… meatballs, but probably with lamb instead of beef. Dumplings.” I shrugged. “Charly swears people actually bring food to these, so once that stuff starts coming in, it would just be portioning it and sending it back out. We shouldn’t have too much actual cooking to do.”

He nodded and started grabbing ingredients. “So that leaves drinks, plates, and utensils.” When I reached for a rack of glasses, he stopped me. “No. If one of us drops anything that can break, people can get injured. I’ve been stocking up on fiber-based plates, forks, and spoons. Drinks are going to be in those corn-starch gel pouches.”

“Dude,” I groaned. “Those things get so gummy.”

“Straws are real and do exist.”

“Besides, I can already tell someone is going to find alternative uses for those,” Arthur called from behind us. I swear, I could hear him smirking. “You can’t put humans, sex, and flavored liquid in the same room and not expect that.”

I shook my head with a smile, but he had a point. Once we shooed him away, work on the snacks went pretty quick. Judging by the sounds coming from the main room, it was a good thing, too - furniture being dragged, then Arthur’s voice ringing out to welcome everyone. Soon, Sebastian was swinging out of the kitchen door with the first trays, and true to Charly’s word, he came back carrying a plate of neatly stacked fudge, followed by Arthur carrying a covered container.

“Scratch the meatballs, someone brought an actual mountain of sausage balls,” Arthur grunted as he slammed the container on a flat surface before retreating.

“Not even a joke?” I mused.

“Must be slipping,” Sebastian grinned. “I mean, he said ‘balls’ twice…”

“Low hanging fruit!” a voice called from the main room. It must have seemed entirely out of context to the crowd, but Sebastian and I were laughing as we started plating so he could carry more food out to the spots Charly had designated.

A timer went off, so I took the mac and cheese bites out of the oven, snagged a tray of drink-blobs, shoved a fistful of straws into my apron and took off to do my lap of the event. There were already people taking a break, reaching gratefully for hydration. Several times, someone would reach for one and pour it in a partner’s mouth, and on one occasion, a woman offered it up like a gift to a bound man, both biting into it and drinking greedily.

I almost stepped on someone before I realized there was an actual pile of people on the floor. I diverted my eyes quickly from what I thought was an all-out orgy before my brain registered that I wasn’t hearing sex noises - just whispers. Snapping my eyes back up, it took a moment to figure out that I had nearly stepped on the largest cuddle pile I had seen since my apartment on Insert Winter Holiday. Crouching, I balanced what was left of the drink blobs on one hand while holding out the straws with another. In no time at all, the tray was empty and I was heading back for more.

This time, food on one hand, drinks on the other, I exited the kitchen to see Charly wrapping up her rope-bondage safety lecture before starting to demonstrate different knots on a volunteer, with Charly in the role of the top for this scenario. Watching her calmly contort and restrain another human being while calmly explaining the psychology behind it was… kind of terrifying. I had to constantly remind myself that this person volunteered and that Charly was experienced on both ends of the rope.

One more sweep of the room landed me with only a dozen or so drinks left on top of a pile of empty trays. I backed into the kitchen to sanitize and re-load the trays, only to hear Sebastian swearing. “Who the hell brought chili!?”

“Apparently someone thought it was a good idea,” I shrugged, baffled. I mean, it didn’t seem like a good idea to me, but this wasn’t exactly my area of expertise. “Maybe we put it in bowls, set up a little station in one of the break areas, with toppings? Let people help themselves?”

“Bondage potlucks and chili…” He shook his head. “Trying to remind myself that I’ve seen weirder things, but…”

“I can promise you, they are having fun. And they’re hydrated!” I shook my mostly empty platter of blobs at him.

Sebastian went out to retrieve more food from the people who brought it, and I kept rolling sausages in dough. “More fudge!” he crowed. “I snagged a piece of the first batch, and it was amazing.”

“You clearly do not see the irony,” I muttered where he couldn’t hear me. “Oh, heavens, no chili! But fudge… fudge is fine…”

The next time I was able to break free and take my designated lap, a slight bit more chaos had descended as everyone had gotten more comfortable. Several of the more experienced were examining and complimenting each other on their knots and arrangements of their subs. Ivan and Jokul were doing…. Something… that involved Ivan in a gorgeous evening gown and Jokul with a gag in his mouth. I was almost done with my circuit when a thud reverberated behind me and a black cloak whipped by.

“For the love of…” Arthur growled. I thought he was going to dribble the cowering man he was glaring at like a basketball, but instead he brandished a marker and made two quick X’s on a bare pair of buttocks. “Here and here. Only here and here.” With an irritated flourish, he wrote NOT HERE across the small of the attached back. “This will give someone kidney damage. Specifically you if I catch you doing it again.” Ducking around to the face of the person he had just used as a whiteboard, he shook his finger. “And I’m not even going to apologize, because you have a safeword and you need to use it. First, last, and only warning, you two. If that hit had been any more than a nervous first tap, you wouldn’t even be getting that.” Without a word, he snagged the cane sitting on the table nearby and took it with him. “They aren’t getting anywhere near the cane, fucking idiots. Gotta talk to Charly about those two…” he muttered as he blew back past me, so angry he didn’t even acknowledge that I was standing there.

I almost dropped the stack of empty platters when the Imperial March started playing while Arthur stomped back into his position over the bar. “Attention, Deviants! Courtesy of some poor practices I’ve seen, I would like to invite Sir Coffey and his pet fae Charly to give us a tutorial on safe and proper impact play!” Applause started as he beckoned them forward, Sebastian theatrically adjusting the lights to center in front of the stage.

I ducked back into the kitchen as Coffey’s voice rang out over the crowd, explaining yet again safewords and consent before launching into what toys were used how and where. A little public humiliation never hurt anyone, I joked with myself. At least not for some of the people out there.

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#the miys #found family #humans are weird #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #earth is space australia #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing

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dizzypinwheel · 6 years ago

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Identify Yourself

Chapter 5: A Lesson in Pragmatism

While we’re at it, nyoom! Have a link to the four previous chapters.

Hank could tally the total number Fowler had suspended an officer on one hand, and not because he was lenient. He commanded the police department with a fierceness that only a former drill instructor could muster, demanding the rank-and-file beneath his supervision to follow his expectations without question. It took little to cross his bullshit quota, and indefinite suspensions came with a questionable expiration date. They tended to last a long while. So color Hank surprised when he was contacted shortly after the start of his suspension, requested to pay a visit to the department. During their curt conversation, Hank noticed Fowler seemed strained. Fowler stayed on the line long enough to pencil in an 11:30 meeting for the following day, disconnecting the call before Hank could raise any questions.

After circling the area for a choice parking spot, Hank parked his death trap and fed the meter. He approached the precinct, feeling a glimmer of pride as he glanced at his watch. It read 10:50 AM. He didn’t expect brownie points or gold stars, but being punctual for anything that didn’t involve a sports stadium counted as a goddamn miracle. It almost made him feel respectable.

He gained a proper sense of understanding of why Fowler seemed so frazzled on the phone when he walked through the front doors and surveyed the reception area. Every android that performed quote unquote menial tasks for the precinct had vanished. The executive order that required all citizens to relinquish their androids to the authorities was probably to blame. He bet they were dismembered scraps of plastic by now, buried in landfills located on the outskirts of the city. It appeared the precinct had yet to hire suitable replacements. Unfortunate rookies were floundering at the front desk, scrambling to process the swelling queue of civilians. The officers looked downright miserable, displeased about performing work they considered beneath their station.

He joined the queue, massaging his temples as he grimaced at the agitated line of visitors that kept tapping their feet or checking how much time had passed on their smartwatches. They were unaccustomed to such incompetence. He felt thankful that he had shown up early, that he wouldn’t have to fret about digging himself in a deeper hole by being late to his appointment. Still, it would have been preferable to have his access credentials, which had been confiscated the moment Fowler suspended him. He would have been in the bullpen by now.

He dug his hands deep into his coat pockets as he waited, turning his attention to the big screen television mounted on the wall on the far right side of the lobby. A couple of smartly dressed anchors were seated behind a glossy desk, and he half-listened to them prattle on about this attempted robbery or that wreck on Chrysler Freeway. His attention was piqued when they began a segment about a situation that held Detroit in its grip: the assassination attempt on the leader of the deviants and the aftershocks that shortly followed.

“Last Friday, we broke a story about the failed assassination attempt that happened near Hart Plaza. The incident is still under investigation. The federal government released a statement Saturday, categorically denying all wrongdoing and promising to prosecute those involved to the fullest extent of the law. The deviant leader, Markus, has been placed into protective custody in an undisclosed location.”

The other anchor took over.

“Following that fateful incident, tensions between human-android relations have become strained, with a growing number of people from both sides demanding justice. There have been rashes of organized protests and acts of civil disobedience across the city, and not just from deviants. Concerned citizens of Detroit from all walks of life have begun to participate in the demonstrations, creating human chains around the perimeters of protest zones to protect their android counterparts. When asked why they would put their personal welfare at risk for a machine, many cited the gruesome moments of police brutality they witnessed during earlier deviant-led marches. Whatever their reason, the human protesters we interviewed seemed united behind a single goal: to do what they can to create a space where androids can protest peacefully, without fear of police or government retaliation.”

At that moment, the newsroom cut to footage of the Detroit State Capitol. The stately, well-kept grounds had been transformed into an organized sit-in, a makeshift camp with laid-out tarps and pitched tents. Protesters huddled together in clusters, taking turns holding cardboard signs or chanting into megaphones. A group of college students had circled the android encampment, locked arm-in-arm to create a protective barrier. Hank found that final image particularly uplifting. God knows the press had been fixated on using the younger generation as a proverbial punching bag, depicted as too self-absorbed to care about anything beyond their own social media bubbles. It was satisfying that they were the ones using their leverage to protect the vulnerable. It was a watershed moment.

At that moment, a tentative voice addressed him like a cautious tap on the shoulder.

“Lieutenant? Lieutenant Anderson?”

Hank tore his eyes from the broadcast and approached the rookie before him, unsure how long he had been transfixed by the stories on screen. Time had blazed past and he was surprised to find himself at the front of the line. He ran his fingers through his gray hair nervously as he studied the man in front of him, reading the name tag affixed to his uniform. Officer Brown. He was rather thin and had a smart buzz cut, perhaps no older than 22. Despite his professional air, he had an anxious demeanor; Hank suspected the young man was uneasy around him.

“What can I help you with?” he asked.

“I’ve got an 11:30 appointment with Captain Fowler and need a clearance badge. Think you can help me out with that?”

“Sure, just a second.”

Officer Brown opened a drawer and took out a laminated pass with a metal clip, handing it to Hank.

“So you can clip this pretty much anywhere, as long as it’s visible.”

“No need to explain,” Hank replied. “I’ll take it from here. Take care, all right?”

“I’ll try,” he muttered.

As Hank left the reception desk, he clipped his visitor pass to his coat breast pocket and strode towards security screening area. He noted a sullen police officer leaning against the wall next to the security scanners, his arms crossed, a resentful replacement for the PM700s that had faithfully stood watch just days ago. When it was his turn, Hank stepped through the motion sensors. They chirped as they registered his pass and the gates granted him access, sliding apart with a quiet hiss. The officer waved him through with an apathetic gesture, barely affording him a single glance. In return, Hank nodded curtly and continued through, opening the door that led into the bullpen.

The bullpen was swarming with activity, the entire room a cacophonous din of unanswered phone calls, clacking keyboards, and work-related chatter. Some officers conversing during a hasty coffee break straightened up as Hank passed by, intentional lowering their voices to a suspicious whisper. It appeared there had been no shortage of gossip in his absence. He did his best to ignore their unwelcomed stares.

As Hank made a beeline for Fowler’s office, he stole a glance at his old workstation, feeling a twinge of regret. Save for a few scuff marks and coffee stains, all signs he had once worked there had been scrubbed away. His malnourished plants and bumper stickers, framed graduation photographs and newspaper clippings -- his personal effects had been tossed out or squirreled away in a box somewhere in his shed. He felt territorial. At least it remained unoccupied. No one had tried to lay claim to his workspace. Yet.

Fowler could be seen in his office, hunched rigidly over his desk and sipping from a mug of steaming coffee. He massaged his temples as he stared at his computer screen, scrolling through what were presumably case files, unaware that Hank had arrived for his appointment. Rather than barging in, Hank rapped on the door with the back of his knuckles, stuffing his hands deep into his coat pockets as he waited. Fowler looked up at the sound of the knock and nodded at him, inviting him to come inside. Hank swallowed, his mouth and throat paper dry.

Hank entered the immaculate office, gingerly shutting the door behind him. He experienced a fleeting moment of hesitation as their eyes met and he shifted his gaze to the potted plants nestled against the wall, hardy little fuckers that required little water. Maintaining eye contact seemed impossible. After decades of working together in the force, Hank had grown accustomed to shooting the shit with Fowler, speaking to him without any filter. But now he just found himself incapable of speech.

Thankfully, Fowler didn’t leave him dangling long. He set down his mug with an agitated sigh and massaged his temples, studying Hank before breaking the silence. And even though his manner of speech was brusque, his voice was gentler than anticipated.

“Damn it, Hank. Sit your ass down.”

Hank forced an unconvincing smile as he complied, seating himself in a squeaky chair made for utility rather than comfort. He sat stiffly, his hands resting in his lap, and focused briefly on a fixed point just behind Fowler, a couple of Tigers baseball caps. It brought to mind a flash of memories: simpler times when they had been a pair of nobodies, friends watching ball games from nosebleed seats with their sons. He resisted the urge to shake his head. Look at them now. He inhaled deeply and turned his attention to Fowler.

Time to cut the crap and get this over with.

“So,” Hank shrugged, gesturing. “I’m here.”

“Yeah…” Fowler replied. “So you are.” His eyes shifted to a tasteless white clock that ticked away on his work desk. “On time, too.”

Hank smiled thinly. “Imagine that.”

“Hey, it’s nice. You should consider making it a habit.”

Hardy har.

Hank pursed his lips, stifling an instinctive urge to retaliate with sarcasm.

A minute spell of silence trickled past as the two men paused awkwardly, each painstaking second punctured by the steadfast ticking of Fowler’s clock. Hank clenched his hands into tight fists, tongue-tied. Astute enough to recognize his reluctance, Fowler took initiative. He leaned forward, threading his fingers together as he set his elbows on his desk.

“For what it’s worth, I appreciate you taking the time to stop by, especially on such short notice.”

“Don’t mention it,” Hank mumbled, waving him off. “Hell, if anything, I should be thanking you. It gave me an excuse to leave the goddamn house.”

“Huh. What, you missing work already? Sounds like you’ve gained a little bit of perspective.”

As prone as Hank was to griping about the bullshit aspects of his line of work, it had given him unselfish goals to fixate on. A silver lining. And when that positive glimmer of his life had been stripped away, he sure didn’t appreciate that was left -- trash bags of take-out boxes and drained liquor bottles, a neglected house haunted with a mausoleum of inescapable memories.

“Suspension sucks, Jeffrey. I hate it.”

“You think I wanted to suspend you? Hank, you forced my hand.”

“I know. Believe me, I know.”

“Do you, though? Do you really?”

“Yeah,” Hank said softly. “I do.”

Hank faltered and fell silent, his shoulders slumped, drained of anger, of any desire to quarrel. He skirted Fowler’s scrutinizing gaze, feigning interest in a display case lined with row after tidy row of prized military decorations. A lump formed in his throat as he combed through his muddled thoughts, unable to find the right words to say. All he knew was that he felt compelled to apologize.

“Look, I fucked up,” he muttered. “Royally. And that’s on me. No one else.” He scoffed. “Hell, after everything that happened, I��m surprised you didn’t can my ass.” He took a measured breath and locked eyes with Fowler. “I’m sorry. For all of it.”

With that, he held his tongue and steeled himself, expecting Fowler to gloat or admonish him. Yet Fowler remained composed, his tone even, with no hint of malice.

“Apology accepted.”

“Really?” Hank raised his eyebrows skeptically. “Just like that?”

“What, you rather I grill your ass?”

“Well, no. Not really.”

“Listen, I’m not going to pull any punches. I’m done butting heads, not when I have so many problems with the precinct.”

“Yeah, I saw that on my way here. Seems like a proper shitstorm.”

Fowler shook his head and scoffed. “That’s what happens when you lose a quarter of your workforce overnight. It’s been a fucking nightmare. I need more manpower.” He paused, giving Hank a pointed look. “Officers with experience.”

Hank failed to conceal his surprise. “Me? I thought I was on your shitlist, that you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“Come on, use your goddamn head. You think I invited you here to chat over coffee? You know better than that.”

“But you’ve never been this lenient, not for anyone.”

“I’m not being lenient. I’m being pragmatic. This precinct is understaffed and overworked -- we need people.” Fowler stood up and leaned forward, his hands planted on the desk. “Hank, I’m giving you a one-time shot, a chance to redeem yourself. If you’re done being a cop, fine. I won’t stop you. But if you want this, and I mean really want this, I guarantee you’ll walk out that door with your badge, a police detective for the DPD. Either way, I need to know. Will you come back?”

“When you put it that way, I’d be an idiot not to.”

“So it’s settled.”

Fowler sat back down.

“Just so you know, there are rules I expect you to follow. When you are at work, you will conduct yourself as a professional. I expect you to be punctual, I expect you to work without complaint, and I expect you to keep your behavior in check.”

“Sounds fair to me.”

“Good, then it’s settled.”

Fowler opened a drawer and produced a shabby badge, dull from neglect, and silently placed it on his side of the desk. As soon as Hank saw it, he stiffened, his leaden hands rooted to his lap. Fowler regarded him with a stern eye, fingertips grazing the grooves of the engraved shield within. “Consider this badge on loan. Whether or not you get it back is entirely up to you. Act like what you are, a police lieutenant, and it’s yours.” His expression grew stern as he cupped the badge with his right hand, concealing it from sight. “But if you take even one step out of line, I won’t hesitate to fire your ass. Do I make myself clear?”

“Clear as crystal. Consider all bases covered.”

Satisfied, Fowler offered Hank his badge, sliding it across the desk. “Then let’s move on to a different topic.”

Unaware he was holding his breath, Hank reclaimed his badge with a hesitant hand and stuffed it deep into its rightful place, mingling with his car keys and spare change in his right coat pocket. Meanwhile, Fowler was stooped over a secured file drawer, unlocking it with a fingerprint scan. He muttered to himself as he carded through the files, fishing out a thick manila folder stamped with the word CONFIDENTIAL in bold red letters. Tucking the folder under his arm, he rolled his shoulders and turned to face Hank.

“Let’s head down to the evidence room. I have a case for you to look at.”

If you made it to the end, thank you for reading. It took me a long time to make this update. I was dealing with a really serious bout of depression and anxiety and it just sucked all the joy out of things I enjoy doing. I’m in a much better place right now and have every intention of finishing this story. I owe @silenceindetroit so much gratitude for her insight. She is a wonderful beta. If you would like to be tagged for future updates, let me know! I’m also a whore for reblogs and comments. If you enjoy what you’ve read, consider doing so. ;)

Tagging the following:

@asunachinadoll // @malanoches // @negotiator-on-site // @spirit--fox // @detectiverichardreed // @nerdiebeauty // @kaylaproductions // @fizzabel // @windyfiend

#connor dbh #hank dbh #detroit become human #dbh fanfiction #dbh

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180abroad · 5 years ago

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Day 178: ...and We’re Still in Bruges

After a pretty intense day visiting the WWI battlefields and memorials of Flanders Fields, Jessica and I decided to spend our last day in Bruges enjoying some of the lighter things it had to offer: chocolate, fries, and a whopping bell tower.

After a return trip to the I Love Coffee espresso bar and a walk through the market square---this time filled with stalls of flowers and produce---we started the day with a trip to Bruges's Choco-Story museum.

We'd visited a different chocolate museum back in York, so we were interested to see how the chocolate museum in this other world capital of chocolate compared. A lot of the subject material was similar---obviously---but we found the Bruges museum much more interesting. Instead of a flashy guided presentation like we experienced at the York Chocolate Story, the Bruges Choco-Story is an actual museum filled with informational displays that we could take in at our own pace.

As we already knew, the earliest form of chocolate was a sort of cold bitter tea brewed in Central America from cocoa nuts.. What I hadn't known is that the word chocolate is derived from the Nahuatl (Aztec) word cacahuatl, meaning "cocoa water." The earliest known use of cocoa was by the Shuar people of Ecuador around 5,000 years ago. Archeologists have found traces of Shuar pottery still coated with traces of brewed cocoa.

The later Mayan and Aztec civilizations especially favored a type of foamed cocoa made by churning it with a special whisk. The foam apparently cut down the bitter taste of the unsweetened chocolate.

In addition to the more typical museum displays, the Choco-Story also had some delightful Duplo block dioramas.

Much later, Spanish nuns in Oaxaca were the first to add sugar to their cocoa. The drink became so popular among female Spanish colonists that they couldn’t even make it through church services without taking a break for their servants to bring them more. A local bishop tried to crack down on the problem by banning cocoa in church and was found murdered shortly thereafter. (An important lesson about men trying to get between a woman and her chocolate…)

It was nearly a century after Columbus’s first voyage before cocoa made it back to Spain, and it was another century after that before it became popular outside of Spain. But when it finally did, it quickly became a sensation across the continent. In the 1700s, the French philosopher Voltaire mixed cocoa with coffee to create the world’s first mocha. He drank over 40 cups of it per day---to his doctor’s great distress.

Apparently, people were so afraid of spilling their cocoa that a new type of saucer was invented with a basket or cup for holding the cup secure. Maybe they were so afraid of spilling it because it was so expensive. In 1800, a pound of chocolate cost five times the average daily wage.

It wasn't until the mid-1800s that solid chocolate as we know it was first developed by the Quakers of northern England, whom we'd learned about at the Chocolate Story in York. But even though the English invented solid chocolate, the Belgians would argue that they perfected it.

Belgian chocolatiers pioneered the use of fun shapes and fillings to make chocolates even more enjoyable. Belgium was also one of the first countries to impose strict purity laws governing the production of chocolate---sort of like what Bavaria did with beer centuries earlier.

We also learned a bit about the process of making chocolate. (Or rather, I learned, since Jessica was already well-versed in the making of chocolate as a former chocolatier herself.)

I learned that there are three main varieties of cocoa plant: Criollo, Forastero, and Trinitario. Of these, Criollo makes the best chocolate and Forastero makes the least-good chocolate. Still, Forastero is much easier to grow than the other two, so the vast majority of chocolate is made from Forastero beans.

On average, one cocoa tree produces enough nuts to make just one pound of dark chocolate per year. That means that it takes literally billions of cocoa trees to feed the world's sweet tooth.

They also had a diagram showing the composition of dark, milk, and white chocolate. I knew that milk chocolate has a lot more sugar and less cocoa than dark chocolate, but seeing the pie charts really drove the difference home for me.

We also got to eat as many sample pieces of dark, milk, and white chocolate as we wanted, which was nice.

The museum ended with a walk through some incredible chocolate statuary and a demonstration of how to make Belgian pralines. It was pretty much exactly like the demonstration we saw in York---the chocolatier filled a mold with chocolate, poured it out, filled with filling, then filled with chocolate. But it's always fun to see people make chocolate, and it's even better to get free samples afterward.

On our way out to the gift shop, a set of computer terminals offered to reveal our perfect origin chocolate based on our taste preferences. Apparently mine is Venezuela and Jessica’s is Vietnam.

Our next stop was to climb the iconic bell tower that overlooks the market square. I have to admit that I spent a lot of that time thinking about the movie In Bruges, in which the tower plays a prominent role.

Crowds have apparently become more of an issue in the ten years since the movie was released. It was about a thirty-minute wait in the newly installed queue room before we could climb the tower. The price has also grown along with the crowds–twelve euros per person instead of the five quoted in the movie.

While we waited, we watched a looping video showing how the design of the tower has evolved over time. It was once actually even taller than it is now.

During the Middle Ages, a lot of towns around Belgium made deals with the local lords. The lords gave the towns economic autonomy, and the towns used this freedom to make astronomical amounts of money that the lords could use to raise armies when necessary. Each town had a market hall where local merchants would keep their wares safe during winter, and it became a point of pride for each town to build the biggest, most elaborate tower possible on their market halls.

As we climbed up, we got to see some exhibits along the way. We saw an old lock-box and the original wrought-iron doors dating back over 700 years to the hall’s original construction. Back in the day, this chest would have contained important contracts and decrees, and it would have required multiple respected members of the community to open it together, since they each would carry one of several keys that were all needed to open it.

We also saw the giant brass cylinder that runs the tower’s carillon bells just like a music box. I hadn’t known before this trip that that was how they worked!

It's very clear from the inside how much the tower has been expanded and renovated over the centuries. The designs and angles of the staircase change dramatically every few floors or so, seemingly without any care for convenience or continuity. It clearly feels like a place that was originally intended to be behind the scenes and not seen by visitors.

Also, as far as I could tell, there wasn't any point along climb where the stairway matched the one shown in In Bruges. Oh well.

The view from the top of the tower was just as spectacular as we could have hoped. There was a web of wire mesh covering all the windows, possibly to prevent people from inadvertently reenacting the film’s climactic scene.

Still, we were able to get some spectacular shots of the surrounding town and skyline.

Back on the ground, we bought some fries at one of the stands flanking the entrance and sat down in the bell tower's courtyard. Fries are a big deal in Belgium, and there are dozens of condiments to choose from. There's the American staple of ketchup, the Belgian staple of mayonnaise, and a host of other sauces we'd never heard of before. Thankfully we had plenty of time in line to do some quick research on our phones.

We both settled on “Andalouse sauce”–a blend of mayonnaise, tomato sauce, and peppers. If you've ever tried Red Robin's Campfire sauce before, it is very similar to that. They were easily the best fries either of us have ever had.

After doing a bit of final shopping in town, we headed back to our Airbnb to rest up and get packed for the next day's trip up to Amsterdam, where Jessica’s brother Nic was already waiting for us. We were leaving a day earlier than we had originally planned at the beginning of the trip since we'd gotten tickets to a soccer match in Amsterdam tomorrow night, but we still had a great time. Belgium seems to have a bit of a reputation for being an underwhelming tourist destination, but we had a fantastic time. The people were great, the food was great, the beer was great, and the scenery was great.

Speaking of beer, we didn't do any other beer-related activities after the De Halve Maan brewery tour, but we did our best to sample the local offerings back at our Airbnb in the evenings. We enjoyed a bottle of Kasteel Rouge, the cherry-liqueur-fortified dark ale we'd tasted back in Prague. Just like before, the first sip was heavenly, but each sip afterward was increasingly cloying. It would make a great digestif, but a full bottle---or even half a bottle---is far too much.

Another ale we enjoyed was the ubiquitous but still impressive Leffe Brown. It is the standard dubbel offering of the Belgian abbey-style macrobrewery Leffe, part of the Anheuser-Busch InBev family. But like I said, it is still really good. As long as you like dark ales, that is. The first thing that struck me was just how appropriate the name was. Sure, "Brown" doesn't seem like the most unique or descriptive name for a dark beer, but I can't think of a better word to encapsulate its flavor. It's earthy, bready, and nutty---like drinking a fermented organic bakery.

And of course, we got some Lambic beers. Jessica had gotten me into Lambic beers back when we were first planning this trip. Technically, Lambic beer is just beer that's produced in a very specific part of Belgium using wild yeast instead of brewer's yeast. But commercially, Lambic beers are known for being mixed with fruit syrups to create a deliciously refreshing beverage that even people who don't normally like alcohol can enjoy. The main brand you can find in the US is Lindeman's, and one of the first drinks we opened upon our arrival in Bruges was a Lindeman's Framboise (raspberry). It tasted pretty much the same as it does in the US--which could be seen as either mildly disappointing (since it wasn't any better) or moderately encouraging (we don't have to feel depressed for not getting "the good stuff" back home).

Plus, we also had a ton of chocolates we had to eat our way through. Yeah, life was pretty hard for us in Belgium. But all good things in this life must come to an end, even if it is only to move on to the next good thing. And the next good thing for us was Amsterdam, a family reunion, and my first European soccer match.

#180abroad #bruges #belgium #travel #chocolate #bell tower #french fries #architecture #europe #beer #lindeman #still in bruges

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hypermoyashi · 6 years ago

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Okay, so, hi everyone? I’ve gotten some new followers, which is a bit surprising, and I’m sure some of you are aware of the discourse currently happening the mdzs fandom. Normally, as my about page states, I will not participate in fandom discourse under any circumstances, but as I was personally signaled out in this, I’ll be making an exception just this once. I’ll be placing everything under a cut just so those of you who don’t want this discourse showing up on your dash can avoid it.

Okay, so if you’re unaware, a blocklist was recently created of people in the fandom that minors should avoid/be aware of. I, as well as one of my good fandom friends, was on this list. I will not be posting links to said list in any way, shape, or form, as I believe it is poorly worded and just wholely not handled well in its original context.

I’d like to preface this entire post with one important idea: you curate your own fandom experience. I actually encourage blocking/blacklisting things and people who make you uncomfortable, just be respectful about it. You don’t need to announce it, or let someone know you’re blocking them. If I in any way make you uncomfortable for any reason, and you are uncomfortable talking to me about it to try and fix the problem, then please unfollow me, block me, or whatever will make you the most happy and comfortable. In the end, fandom is about fun, and it shouldn’t be taken too seriously. It shouldn’t be used to hurt people.

I can’t say I’m not upset that I and my friend were included, and while I don’t know most of the people on that list enough to make a judgment, based on the reasons my friend and I were listed, I don’t believe the judgment of the original creator of the list was wholly sound. For full transparency, I am going to include why I, personally, was signaled out.

The first reason is for my submission here: https://mxtxpositivity.tumblr.com/post/183334608470/fic-rec-realize-what-you-never-knew-by

The fic I recommended is a fic that the friend I previously mentioned wrote, and I recommended it because I enjoy it and I enjoy supporting my friend’s writing. Now, the fic in question is about the junior trio, but it is written in a context where they are older and not minors. To be fair, my friend did not tag for this, and the lack of a tag for it was not something that I, as her beta, caught, either. I don’t particularly intend to debate whether or not it’s okay to write sexual content about young characters after they’ve been aged up, as it’s a rather gray area and whether it will bother you will vary. If it does bother you, however, that’s perfectly valid and I encourage you to avoid it. Blacklisting is a wonderful thing, and ao3 now includes a function to exclude ships.

The second reason I was signaled out in this post is for this: http://hypermoyashi.tumblr.com/tagged/yaoi

And just so it’s clear that I have not altered or cleared this in any way, here’s a screenshot with the time and date in the corner:

I would scroll down to show you guys more of the tag, but there is none. My yaoi tag is just two posts. This is the basis for which I was said to “support yaoi.” I’d like to point out that one post is literally a criticism of the genre as a whole. I have no idea why I tagged the second post as yaoi, but it was reblogged three years ago. It is not something I would reblog and tag that way today. I’ve used the same blog, the same username, for well over seven years now. There is bound to be some stuff here that doesn’t reflect who I am today, and there is also bound to be things that I’ve mistagged or not tagged appropriately in the past. I do not have the energy to clean absolutely everything out, but if you would like to point something out to me, I will be happy to change it. For my purposes, I’m not going to be altering my yaoi tag, in case anyone wants to check it for themselves.

Now, just as an off-topic, I’d like to point out that I’m bi/gray ace. I don’t hate yaoi per say, but I do dislike the picture its common tropes paint of the lgbtqa+ community, as anyone who has spoken with me for five minutes about it can tell you.

This is all I was flagged for, but in the name of transparency, I am also going to include something that, had our original poster of the list seen, would’ve been additional reasons for me to land on the list.

I am writing an A.B.O. fic for HOB. It will also contain an explicit scene in the future, and it contains some pretty heavy triggers such as attempted suicide and CSA/abuse. I know A.B.O. tends to be controversial for many, many reasons, but for the record, all characters retain their full facilities during any and all explicit scenes, on or off screen, and are able to consent or not consent to what is going on. Anything of that nature that happens to a minor does not happen on screen and is appropriately tagged as CSA. I also do not endorse or want minors reading this fic, but I’ll get into that later.

Now, does any of this disprove that I’m a potential danger to minors? No, it does not.

For one, disproving a negative is an impossibility. To demonstrate this, I’ll be using the same analogy my statistics teacher used. You have a field. You’re looking for cows. To find some cows, you divide the field up into twenty sections. Unfortunately, you only have the capability to check five of the sections. You check these five sections, and you don’t find any cows. Can you say, for sure, that there are no cows in the field? Nope. Because it’s impossible to check every section, and there could be cows in the sections you don’t check.

I cannot open up the entirety of my memory and history to prove that I have definitely never hurt a minor. It is absolutely never my intention, and if I have, I deeply apologize for it. But I have no way of disproving a negative because it is mathematically impossible.

Now that we’ve gotten up to this point, some of you might be thinking, isn’t treating such a baseless accusation so seriously, in a way, giving it validity? Well, in a way, sort of. The accusation is entirely baseless, yes, and this is going to be the only time I’m going to argue something like this in this way. It upset me, and it’s there, so I want to address it.

Now, I’m going to reference my about page. Here it is:

The text reads, “Hello! I thought, after about five years of owning this blog, give or take, it was probably time to make an about page.

“I mainly write fanfiction, which is almost always posted to ao3 and linked here unless it’s particularly short. Minors are definitely welcome; I don’t reblog or post N**SFW images or videos, nor do I write smut, though please be aware that this blog is “view at your own risk.” I tag for common triggers and potentially harmful content, so it’s up to you to know your limits and blacklist appropriately. That being said, if you need me to tag anything in addition to what I already do, please don’t hesitate to ask!

“My fandoms right now are mainly Bungou Stray Dogs, Heaven Official’s Blessing, Mo Dao Zu Shi, Hakata Tonkotsu Ramens, Pandora Hearts, Vanitas no Carte, Akatsuki no Yona, and D.Gray-man. Please be aware that although I do have particular ships I like, I’m not really that into shipping as a whole.

“I don’t reblog shipping discourse nor will I interact with hostile shippers. If you would like to talk about shipping with me, please do, just be nice! As a bonus, I love platonic relationships, so please talk with me about those if you enjoy them, too.

“ところで、私の日本語はちょっとわるいですけど、話すのが好きです。

“Finally, I consider this blog to be a safe place for me and others that does not discriminate based on race, gender identity, sexual orientation, mental health, physical ability, national origin, or religion. If that bothers you, please click the “back” or “x” button on your browser.

“With all that out of the way, welcome to my blog! I love talking with people, so feel free to message me or leave an ask. I swear you won’t be bothering me. Happy blogging!”

Now, I am going to edit this at some point, because I have written smut now. It’s not posted, but it’s still something I intend to post. But yeah, as of 3/13 around 5pm, that was my about page, and I have not changed it for quite a while. (Sorry I’m not quite as chipper today ^^”)

One of the links on my about page leads to this page:

Which reads:

A quick guide to my tagging system!

my fanfiction: stuff I’ve written

text post: stuff I’ve made/said

q: things posted from my queue (it is a very long queue)

art by op: If there’s no source, then I’m reasonably certain that this art was created by the original poster. If I’m wrong, please let me know and I’ll delete it imeidiately.

icons: whenever I save an icon, whether I use it or not, I reblog it under this tag

personal and/or ramblings: just me talking. Sometimes I won’t even tag these kinds of posts

— mention: normally reserved for common triggers, i.e. “Donald Trump mention” or “sex mention”

n**sfw warning: as stated in my about page, I don’t reblog n**sfw images or videos, but I do reblog n**sfw fic recs (ie links to explicit content) that is unsuitable for minors. If you’re a minor viewing my blog, please blacklist this tag if you feel the need to!

spoilers: anything and everything I think constitutes a spoiler. Sometimes I’m bad about tagging these, though. I don’t tag for specific fandoms, like “su spoilers” or “bsd spoilers,” so please beware of that.

And, for reference, this is the basis for which I generally rate my fics:

G (General Audiences): Anyone can read this

T (Teen Audiences): Anyone 13+ can read this

M (Mature Audiences): Anyone 17/18+ can read this (16 is fine, too, I think, depending on what the reader is comfortable with. My M rated fics often include dark/sexual themes, though, so 17/18 is the more comfortable range)

E (Explicit): Only people who are 18+ should read this (probably not gonna rate anything this since I don’t write smut unless I just really don’t want to endorse any minors reading it)

Again, this should probably be updated as I have written smut, however infrequent. I try to tag for common triggers, and I have asked here that minors under a certain age not read particular fics. All of my fics that depict unhealthy relationships, darker or sexual themes, or anything that I would be uncomfortable with a minor reading are rated Mature or Explicit, depending.

So all in all, I have tried my best to provide a positive experience to anyone who enjoys my content, and I try to tag so that potentially harmful content doesn’t reach those that it might hurt. I’m not perfect, and I can’t control everything. A minor can still go in and read my Explicit/Mature fics on ao3, no matter how much or how loudly I ask them not to. My content is meant to inspire, to show that life can suck, but in the end, everyone is worth it and continue on.

And, on that caveat, I’d like to point out that I generally take a stance of “create and let create.” Freedom of expression is the greatest gift anyone can be given. Yes, avoid content that hurts you, but please don’t lash out at those who create it. Until you know exactly why they’ve created it, what their history is, and what thoughts or feelings they were working through while creating it, please leave them be. Creators should tag their works so people can avoid content that might be harmful to them, but content that is harmful to one person might be another person’s lifeline.

But the reason I’ve laid this all out is that I want you to judge for yourself. Do I seem like someone you want to be friends with? Do I seem like someone harmful? Do I seem like someone you are indifferent to? Please make the decision that is best for you, and if you happen to want to be friends, please let me know ^^

Now, finally, I hope to see a more positive fandom experience come of this. I say all this, however negative or bleak it might be for me, because it was important for me to work through my thoughts, and I hope that something positive can come of honesty and communication.

Please don’t go after the original poster of the list, if you know who they are. It’s better just to let it go. The person seemed to have had good intentions, however ill-executed they were, and talking to them is only going to create more ill will and negativity for everyone. I believe, at least in part, the reason their list is so unfounded and baseless is because the content they cited genuinely hurts them, and when creating the list, they did not look at the full context of everything they were citing. And, well, context is everything, really. This doesn’t really excuse them, as they still hurt people with a largely unhelpful and thoughtless post, but brewing the negative feelings helps no one. I would also like to state that the fact that the content hurts them is not the fault of any of the creators. If you tag appropriately, but someone doesn’t take the time to blacklist or otherwise protect themself from content they know will hurt them, then that’s on them.

Fandom is a really interesting place. It’s full of so many diverse and wonderful people--minors and adults, lgbtqa+ and allies, tons of different nationalities--we should really take more steps to look out for one another. If there’s anything I could be doing better, please let me know. My experience with the mdzs fandom hasn’t been great up to this point, and I want to change that. I love this show, and I also want to love the people who love it alongside me.

Remember, for every not so great person, there are twenty more lovely people just waiting to meet you. And I hope that, from here on, those lovely people get every good thing they deserve.

#discourse #csa mention #abuse mention #rape mention #suicide mention #really if you have any super common triggers please don't read this #not tagging the fandom #and it probably wont show up in the tags because looong #but yeah here is my only participation in discourse #id prefer no reblogs #but feel free to reply #or message me

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all-the-love-harold · 6 years ago

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The Daily Anna - Chapter 8

I struggled a little to get this one on paper but it’s here and I’m actually quite proud of it. Once again, it wouldn’t have happened without @lovesmelikebrandnewstarlight to talk me through things and work out where things are going. Without giving anything away, things are going to start getting emotional from this point on wards, so prepare yourselves.

Let me know what you’re thinking so far

Master Post

23 shows, 38 days, countless kisses and memories that Anna could hold onto for the rest of her life. The tour was over and Anna was about to fly back to London, back to her normal life, as if the last few weeks hadn’t changed everything. Nothing could be the same now, not for her or her blog. It was strange to think that it was only a few months ago that she was sitting at her desk, with her head in her hands trying her best to get her essay written, only to decide to drop out a few hours later. That seemed like a lifetime ago, Ronnie was speaking to her back then, her blog was simply a hobby and Harry was Harry Styles the popstar, not Harry Styles her boyfriend.

“How do you do it H?” Anna asked Harry in the back of the car on the way to LAX.

“Do what?” he said

“Go back to your normal life after all this?”

He turned his head and looked out the window at the passing trees that lined the streets.

“This is my normal” he sighed “For the better part of the last 8 years I’ve been on the road, all of this is normal to me, my life is here in LA just as much as it is in London, I almost hate that I’m leaving so soon.”

“That’s kinda what I mean, how do you go back to London and just live after all this?”

“It’s weird at first, but I’ll have you to keep me busy, plus I have an album to write so instead of playing these songs to thousands everyday, I’ll be in the studio writing new ones”

“Obviously all about me” she giggled

“How could they not be” he smiled, wrapping his arm around her and bringing her into his chest “you’re incredible An, changed my life”

Anna’s heart fluttered, she wanted nothing more than to say those three little words, but she wasn’t sure that he was ready to hear it.

“I think I’m the one whose life has been changed” she opted out, this wasn’t the time, she wasn’t sure there would ever be a perfect time to say it, but this was an ending, and those words were meant for a beginning.

He kissed her on the forehead “Both of us”

In the background of their conversation the car pulled up and the driver switched it off.

“LAX” he said bringing them back to reality.

Anna looked out the window at the hundreds of people going about their day, going on holiday, or on business trips, going home or going away and she gulped at how many of them would know who Harry is. She was still hesitant about being seen with him, especially in public places like airports, it wasn’t that she was embarrassed or anything, it was just that she hated people staring at her and she hated even more the articles that would no doubt be out by the time they arrive in London. “Anna Elliot uses Harry Styles to get more followers”

“You know what this reminds me of?” Harry said, pulling Anna back into the conversation

“What’s that?”

“Our first date” he smiled “but this time we’re both getting out of the car”

And so they did. Harry jumped out first and loaded their bags onto a trolley and took Anna’s hand in his.

Airports made Anna nervous, this was only the second time she’d ever been on an international flight, the first on the way over here, but there were some perks to being Harry Styles and one of them was skipping the queues. They went straight through security, and onto the first class lounge, where they were brought two glasses of champagne and some fresh fruit to munch on while they waited to board.

“Thank you Harry” Anna said when there was a lul in the conversation.

“What for love?” he asked curiously

“Inviting me on tour with you, I know I’ve told you that I’m glad I came, but I don’t know if I’ve thanked you for everything”

“You don’t need to thank me An, I should be thanking you, for dropping everything for a month and a half to spend some more time with me”

“It’s going to be weird not waking up next to you everyday”

“We can have sleepovers” he smiled.

“Flight 237 to London is now boarding” a voice came over the loudspeaker alerting them to their impending flight.

“That’s us” Harry said, standing up and picking up their bags. “You going to finish that?” he pointed to Anna’s almost full glass of champagne

“No” she shook her head “still feeling a bit funny” Those stomach aches had only gotten worse over the last few weeks of the tour, to the point where they no longer went away, they weren’t always crippling, but they were there, lingering, reminding Anna something wasn’t right. She’d promised Harry that as soon as they got home she’d make an appointment with her G.P, just to make sure everything was ok.

He gave her a concerned look, but still reached down and grabbed the glass, downing the whole thing in one go and shrugging when he put it down.

“I’m still a nervous flyer” he admitted “and if you don’t make that appointment the minute we get home, I’ll be doing it for you”

“I promised I’d do it Styles” she smiled and started walking towards their gate.

The flight wasn’t packed by any stretch of the imagination, in fact, Anna and Harry were the only one’s in first class and Anna was glad to have their privacy. Home was so close and it wasn’t until now that Anna realised how much she’d missed it.

The seatbelt light flashed red and the flight attendant gave the safety demonstration to which both Anna and Harry paid very close attention and once it was over and the plane was happily soaring through the sky, Anna took out her laptop and started typing. Her holiday was over now but that wasn’t official until there was a blog post about it.

The End of an Era

Ok, I admit the title of this post sounds a little dramatic but hear me out. On April 7th 2017, Harry released his first solo single which now holds a lot of meaning for a lot of people, myself included and yesterday, on July 14th 2018, he performed the final show of the world tour for that album.

Now, for those of you that have been around so nice before H and I started dating you’ll know that I was fan, and I, like many of you, remember listening to “Sign of the Times” for the first time and thinking that this song was going to make a difference to my life in some small way.

Flash forward to a year later and I was at Harry’s London show and that song that should have only made a small difference to my life had suddenly made a huge difference.

These last few months have been a whirlwind but I wouldn’t change any of it for the world. I’m writing this post as I sit on the plane on my way back to London and I’m filled with all sorts of feelings about it all being over. On the one hand, I’m happy to be going home and seeing my friends and family again but on the other, I’ve had the time of my life on tour and I’ll be missing everyone that I’ve met along the way. No matter what happens with Harry and I, I will forever be grateful for all of the fun that I’ve had on this tour for all of the memories I’ve made and all of the chances I’ve had to meet you guys. Every night at every show I watched thousands of people sing along to Harry’s lyrics and some nights, some people would see me singing along and come and join me and those are some of the happiest memories that I have.

Harry and I would arrive at each venue around 5pm every night, and when we got there, all 83 members of the crew would have everything all set up and ready for soundcheck. I know Harry thanked them every night, but their work was truly tireless and I’m pretty sure most of them only slept a few hours a night, so I thought I’d take this opportunity to thank them as well, because without them the tour wouldn’t have happened and I wouldn’t have had all the fun that I did.

Before I go, I have a story to tell, for Clare Uchima, who told me to write about Ping Pong, back before you all knew about me and Harry and I decided not to incase you put it all together, which I’m sure many of you did anyway. I have never been one known for her sporting abilities, but backstage on this tour, there was a ping pong tournament. Now, Harry ended up winning and you can decide for yourselves whether it was rigged or not, but that’s not the point of this story. The tournament was organised by yours truly and it gave me the chance to get to know everyone on the crew. It all came to an end at Madison Square Garden, and everyone gathered around to watch the final match and that’s how I’d characterise the tour, supportive, friendly and above all kind. Treat People with Kindness was more than a slogan on a t-shirt, it was everything that mattered on the Harry Styles world tour and it’s a big part of why Harry and I are an item.

As for an update on my plans for this blog now that I’ll be home, I’ll go back to posting daily again, and there’s lots of new content to come your way too.

I’m off to have a nanna nap now, thanks for sticking by me through this wonderful journey, I can’t wait for our next adventures.

Anna. x

Anna’s Mum had promised to meet them at the airport and she was excited, but Harry was nervous. This would be their first meeting, and it would be at heathrow airport. He knew they wouldn’t be there long and that most of their conversation would happen in the car and back at Anna’s flat but that initial introduction would in front of onlookers, something he should be comfortable with by now and if this didn’t mean so much to him, it would be different, but he needed to make a good impression.

“You alright H?” Anna asked, watching Harry fidget in his seat just before they were about to land.

“I just realised that I’m meeting your mum as soon as we get off this plane”

“She’s a lovely woman” Anna yawned

“I don’t doubt that” he smiled “she raised you”

“That she did” Anna rested her head on his shoulder “so her name is Debbie, but let her introduce herself first, she hates when people know her name without her telling them first”

“That seems fair” he said, running his fingers through her hair

“And don’t be too intense with the eye contact, she hates that”

“Like mother, like daughter” he sighed “anything else?”

“Not really, we’re essentially the same person, so if you won me over you’ll be able to win her over pretty easily”

“I can’t kiss her though” he giggled. The plane was landing and they were trying to keep themselves distracted but as the wheels hit the runway, less than smoothly, they both flinched.

“I hate planes” Harry sighed

“You really should consider a less international career then” she laughed.

Now that the plane was safely on the ground, Harry was feeling more nervous than ever. He may be able to get on stage in front of thousands of people every night with ease, but meeting Anna’s mother was absolutely terrifying. Especially when he was tired and dry from the flight.

Being in first class they were the first to leave the plane and once again, because he was Harry Styles and he spent a lot of time at heathrow airport, they were fast tracked straight to customs and onto baggage claim. Their bags rolled in and both picked them up.

“No no no” Harry said, taking Anna’s bag from her “Can’t have your mum thinking I’m not a gentleman”

“You’ll make her think you’re a mad man if you’re trying to wheel two suitcases behind you, it’s on wheels, I’ll manage”

“Fine” he sighed “You feeling alright?”

“I’m feeling like I want to go home” she snapped playfully “and please don’t say anything to mum about me not being well this whole time, it’ll will just worry her”

“It worries me” he admitted, putting his arm over her shoulder “come on Elliot, let’s get you home”

“Mum’s at the arrivals gate” she rested her head against his shoulder as they walked and ignored everyone that stared at them along the way. It was reasonably quiet for an airport this big and they didn’t have to weave their way through hundreds of people to get to Anna’s mum.

As soon as Debbie was in sight, Anna pulled away from Harry and left her bag with him so that she could hug her mum.

“It’s been so long my love, I’ve missed you” Debbie said into Anna’s shoulder without breaking the hug “How was it? What’s he like?”

“He’s amazing, but you already know that, I told you over the phone just about everyday”

“Well I have to see it to believe it” she laughed wiping a tear from her eyes with an old handkerchief that Anna had gotten her for mother's day when she was about 5. Harry waltzed over to them with all the bags and held his hand out to introduce himself.

“It’s lovely to meet you Mrs. Elliot, I’m Harry”

Anna cringed at the formal introduction, knowing that her mum would hate it, but what else was he supposed to call her if Anna had already told him not to call her Debbie.

She covered his hand with both of hers and smiled up at him “The pleasure is all mine Harry but please, call me Debbie”

He smiled and flashed his dimples at her but he didn’t know what to say next, like all of his charisma had been left on that plane.

“Well Debbie, your daughter has changed my life, so I should thank you”

“You two didn’t elope did you?” she laughed nervously, half convinced that they had

“No Mum” Anna shook her head

“We weren’t even in vegas” Harry said proudly.

“Good because if my daughter is going to marry a pop star I want to be at that wedding”

“Ok mum, let’s not to get too ahead of ourselves here” Anna tried to steer the conversation away from marriage, she didn’t want to freak Harry out, it had only been three weeks of officially dating after all and there were three little words that were yet to be said. “

“Alright then kids” Debbie broke the silence “you’ve been on the go for months, let’s get you home”

***

Since being home Anna had been busier than ever, between setting up brand deals and revamping her blog so that it was easier to navigate and maintaining her daily posting schedule, she barely had time to breathe. But today she’d promised that she would put it all down and spend the day with Ronnie. Things with them had gone back to normal since she landed back on british soil which Anna was thankful for, she had her best friend back, but they hadn’t spoken about it. About why when she said she was going away with Harry, he started ignoring her, why he didn’t say goodbye at the airport, or why, for the last 6 weeks he hadn’t even bothered to send her a text to check in.

It was such a nice day out that instead of spending the day locked up in Anna’s flat they decided to go to peggy’s, get a coffee sit outside and catch up on everything they’d missed. So Anna threw on a sundress, put her hair up in a messy bun, slipped on her favourite sandals and made sure she had a cardigan in her bag incase it got cold later. She would usually ride her bike to Peggy’s but she wasn’t feeling up to it today and she certainly wasn't dressed for it, so instead she opted to take it slow and walk there at her own pace. The building was beautiful in summer, covered in lovely pink flowers, with tiny garden tables sitting out the front, where Anna saw Ronnie sitting, talking to the waitress who she was sure he had a crush on.

“Hiya stranger” she said as she approached the table and the waitress smiled at her and walked away. Ronnie stood and opened his arms, bringing her in for a hug.

“It’s good to have you home” he sighed, breaking the hug and sitting back down again.

“Have you ordered?” she asked, sitting down and draping her handbag over the chair

“Yeah, Bella knows our order” he said

“Bella?!” Anna said, raising her eyebrows

“No” he said bluntly, “You know I don’t date”

She rolled her eyes “You should”

“Oh yeah” he laughed “now you’re happy and in love you think everyone else should be too”

“I just think you should put yourself out there more, you’re 24, live a little”

“Says the girl who flew halfway across the world with a stranger just so she could get to know him better, that’s living a little too much don’t you think?”

“It worked out though didn’t it?” she wasn’t going to give him the chance to tread on her relationship with Harry when in reality he didn’t know anything about it.

Bella, the waitress, walked out the door towards their table, carrying a tray with their drinks on it wide smile plastered on her face as soon she made made eye contact with Ronnie. She put the drinks down in front of them, without saying anything and brushed her hand over Ronnie’s shoulder as she walked away. Anna looked at him curiously and he just shrugged his shoulders, blowing her off before she could ask about it again.

“So when do I get to meet him then?”

“When you decide that you don’t hate me for making it work” Anna said bitterly, refusing to make eye contact with him. She looked down at the steaming coffee that was sitting in front of her, and the ill feeling that was now a constant suddenly got worse at the thought of drinking it.

“I don’t hate you Anna, I could never hate you”

“Then why are you so bitter?” she said, still looking down

“You never tried to make it work with me” he said softly

It always came back to this. To that night that they promised each other they wouldn’t speak about again. It was years ago, they’d only just moved to London, they didn’t know anyone else in the city and they were drunk. It never meant anything to Anna, but it did to Ronnie and it came up everytime Anna started dating someone new, and even more so when it ended.

“We’ve been through this Ron, we’re friends, I couldn’t live without you, but friendship is where it ends”

“I know” he shook his head “I’m sorry, I know I’m not supposed to bring it up”

“It was four years ago Ron, this is why you need to get out there”

“Let’s just pretend I never said anything yeah?” he sighed and took a sip from his drink. “How was the tour?”

“I had the time of my life” she smiled “You remember the london shows and how happy everyone in that room was?”

Ronnie nodded

“Well it was like that every night, and Harry is incredible, everything about it was amazing” Anna could talk about for hours if she wanted to, but she knew that Ronnie didn’t want to hear it

“Was New York as good as you’d hoped?”

“That was when we got found out, so no, but it had nothing to do with the city”

“I don’t know why you went out in Central Park if you wanted to keep it quiet”

“It was Harry’s idea” she said “Hang on, how do you know about that, I never told you”

“It was all over the news” he said casually, “I kept up, even if we weren’t talking”

“Thanks”

Anna’s phone that was sitting on the table in front of her buzzed and drew her away from the conversation.

“Styles 🕺 Did you make that appointment yet?”

“Is that the knight in shining armor?” Ronnie chuckled

“Yeah” she grinned “He’s just checking in.”

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asterinjapan · 6 years ago

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KOKIA in Nagoya Blue Note [2018.08.11], first stage review

Hi everyone!

I got back from Nagoya, and there's something I want to get wordy about. You see, KOKIA held a performance at Nagoya Blue Note today, and I was lucky enough to get to attend the first stage. Naturally, I want to tell you all about it, so my review follows below the cut!

Without further ado, first the set list (from memory, but I’m fairly confident about it):

Bye bye blackbird Tenki ga ii, biiru o nomou (’the weather’s nice, let’s drink a beer’) Power of smile/the girl from Ipanema Kangaroo pocket Kirin (’Giraffe’) Waraenai hanashi (’a story not for laughing’) Obake ga kowai nante (’ghosts aren’t really scary’) What a wonderful world Moment ~ima o ikiru~ (’live in the now’) kono chikyuu ga marui okage de (’thanks to this planet being round’) Summertime

The setting was really intimate, like a jazz bar. I was on the left of the stage in the front, close to the pianist, and close enough to touch the stage if I were to lie on the ground here, haha. Pianist, bassist, guitarist and drummer all entered the stage before KOKIA went up herself. I think this is the first time I've seen her wearing pants, with a glittery top this time. It fit the casual atmosphere.

I was right with my jazz reference as she started with bye bye blackbird, a cover song I haven't heard live from her yet and in fact, I'm fairly sure she hasn't performed it in a while to begin with? The sounds were light and upbeat, getting us in the mood for a comfortable afternoon.

I think it was after this song that she started referring to the hot summer weather, as the next song was very aptly titled: tenk ga ii, biiru o nomou: the weather's good, let's drink a beer, haha. (You needed to get at least one drink here along with your ticket.) It's from the new album, Tokyo mermaid, and fit right in the jazzy and light hearted flow that blackbird had started. She got her band members to join in on the occasional cheer halfway through the song, haha. After that, she mentioned the drink she had as a specialty for today, since we should be in the mood for drinks on this hot, hot summer day, obviously! (I definitely agree. In the mean while, I had barely touched my iced tea yet because I was so enthralled already, haha. ) She then asked for us to enjoy the next song, after which the pianist started a song I didn't immediately recognize at first. Then she started singing and it clicked: blast from the past, Power of Smile! It was, again, a more jazz inspired version of the song, pretty similar to the version she rearranged for her best of album pearl, subtitled a gentle breeze. I loved KOKIA's own smile as she delivered this song, light and sweet. Halfway through, we were in for a surprise: the song morphed to English, and then KOKIA covered girl from Ipanema. That was a very fun surprise! Next up, she talked about how much fun she's had with her upcoming album, ikimono no ongakkai (concert of living beings), part 2 of her animal series. She already teased about a preview and indeed, she mentioned the kangaroo and its pocket, which she identified with because you can just swing your child around in a pocket in front of you like that, haha. So next up, the kangaroo song, Kangaroo pocket! It was still kind of jazzy and the lyrics went a catchy "kangaroo-roo-roo pocket", and she did the whole swinging thing too, haha. So cute! The first animal album was quite a change from her previous works as it's explicitly intended to also be enjoyed by little children, so there are also a lot of animal noises in there which was apparently a lot of fun in rehearsals. We weren't yet done with the animals! I actually felt the song sounded a bit like the giraffe song from her first animal album in terms of general atmosphere, and in keeping with that atmosphere, we got - the giraffe song! (Actually, considering giraffe is Kirin in Japanese which is also a beer brand, I'm wondering as I type this whether she was still trying to get us to drink, hmmm.)

Of course, she also came back to her most recently released album, Tokyo Mermaid, which she's really proud of and she hopes that those who haven't gotten it yet would give it a listen. For now the appetizer: two songs from the album! I must confess I am not super familiar to all songs yet, so I had to rely on the lyrics to identify Waraenai hanashi (’not a story to laugh about’). The sound of it brings me back to earlier albums, and although it is a song that didn’t stick out to me right away, it got stuck with me now. And then, she started a song I immediately did recognize because it's the first one from the album and also one that I latched on almost instantly: obake ga kowai nante (ghosts aren't really scary). From what I heard from the DVD preview, she slowed it down considerably for the 20th anniversary concert, but this was the normal rhythm. I think it could be a pretty sad song, but she kept her smile and the song felt light instead. I really love this song and i was so glad she'd put it on today's set list!

Next up was a song with mostly just KOKIA and piano, which is a combination that always makes me happy. This was a song all of you know: What a wonderful world. She sings it a bit slower than the original, but so kind and sweet. I feel like her English has improved a lot over the years, and she definitely knows what she's singing, as she gestured and smiled knowingly when the lyrics about children growing up came up.

With the intro of the next song however, I immediately perked up because I knew this one very, very well. I think she's performed it every time I've seen her live, which is a blessing, because this was moment ~ima o ikiru~ (live in the now), which is an impressive song on its own but even more amazing live. Gone was the light tone of the previous songs: suddenly, the small venue seemed much, much too small to hold her powerful voice as she didn't hold back. I really tried not to cry, because this song hits me hard, but KOKIA looked almost straight at me when she was looking at her pianist for cues and I didn't want to cry on her, haha. This was marvelous. The lights swelled with the song, she effortlessly held her ridiculously long tone (last time I remembered to record it, I clocked it at 22 seconds!), and just - wow. That's not the most insightful review ever, but I'm just so blown away every time, especially contrasting the previous songs. Although KOKIA is without a doubt a professional and at ease on stage, it was like she just let loose all of the reins to deliver on moment, and delivering she did. I barely remembered to sip my drink as she took the microphone again for a talk.

She mentioned her upcoming concerts, of which there are a LOT (trust me, I run a fan blog and I've been having trouble keeping it up to date this year, haha), but the first ones up will be in China. Not entirely coincidentally I suspect, her next song was kono chikyuu ga marui okage de (thanks to this planet being round). This is a song that swells, although not quite as much as moment, haha. I really like it though.

It definitely was a little earlier, but KOKIA also mentioned the last time she performed here in Nagoya, which was last year’s birthday live show, when the audience apparently started singing Happy Birthday to her. The pianist tried to sing it now too, but shied away once he was offered the microphone, haha.

I think it was during this time that KOKIA started to thank the musicians, but we weren't done just yet: suddenly, she picked up the tempo and the volume, as the final song felt too big to be contained in such a small space, wow. KOKIA really is an amazing singer: she sounds like it's effortless live, and this was no exception. The song was English and very appropriately Summertime, though definitely a more powerful and slightly more up-tempo than the versions I can find online (I don’t know a lot of jazz, okay, sorry about that, haha) .

And suddenly, it was over, just like that. I mean, it makes sense since she has two performances today, but I was still overwhelmed by her performance and kind of meekly sipped on my iced tea while people around me were getting up. As it turned out, there was a shop with merchandise, and it was still open! When I went over to check, we noticed KOKIA sitting in the next room over - she was having an signature session. Ohhh boy! I mean, with how small the venue was I was hoping for it, but being able to see KOKIA this close and getting to talk to her twice within a year was a bit much for my heart, haha.

I'm a spoiled brat who already had all the albums for sale, but I did spot the normal version of her 20th anniversary best of album, which has a lovely but completely different cover and packaging from the special edition (which I had pre-ordered, because come on, have we met). So I ended up buying an album I already have (technically twice even, since it's a collection), but it did mean I could queue up! Keeping with the atmosphere, this session was much more up close and laid back than the Christmas concert back in December (but honestly, I was already amazed she held an autograph session at all back then, given how huge that venue was). KOKIA was seated at a high table putting her at eye level, and the queue was so short I was getting fidgety trying to remove the packaging as quickly as possible, haha. And suddenly I was at the front, and she seemed pleasantly surprised to see me (I'm fairly sure I was one of the very few obviously foreigners here today, at least from what I saw). I thanked her profusely for today (I never quite know what to express but gratitude when it comes to KOKIA), and we actually got to talk a bit. I mentioned I was from the Netherlands, and she was impressed with my language skills since, as my blog demonstrates (and she knows it's there!), I speak at least 3 languages, haha. I'm not quite as fluent as I wish in Japanese, but this talk went pretty alright with some help here and there. I explained that moment as a song meant a lot to me and asked her to sign the booklet at that page, and she wrote it out to my name with a smiley face, hee. There were still people waiting for their turn, so I thanked her again and got to shake hands before leaving.

And with that, I think I summoned up today's main event pretty well! I'm currently in the train back to my hotel, so I'm typing this on my phone.

Aaand now I’m back at the hotel and have just finished tidying up this review a bit, haha. I hope I didn’t forget to mention anything, but I’ll stalk twitter a bit for the other fan reviews there.

Thanks for reading my rambling thus far and if you’re reading this, KOKIA, thank you again for a wonderful afternoon! It was very different and a sharp contrast from the last live show (when she did a huge hall concert backed up by a full orchestra), but I can’t help but fall in love with your music all over again every time.

See you soon again!

#report #japan 2018 #report: japan 2018 #report: KOKIA concert

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gloomybow1 · 7 years ago

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Jungkook’s little treat

Pairing: You/Jungkook Genre: Smut Summary: Jungkook has fallen head over heels with a very beautiful and, most definitely, older than him owner of a very popular bakery in town. What happens when he finally musters up enough courage to approach her? Better yet, what happens when both of them got stuck in the bakery because of the approaching snowstorm? 💖 🍬 🍪 Warning: I’m not responsible for the harmful effects of a sudden increase in sugar levels in your blood after reading this fic. Over-indulgence in Kookies may lead to diabetes. 🍪 🍬 💖

Jeon Jungkook is very impatient. It’s never been in his nature to wait for anything longer than it’s absolutely necessary. His hotheaded temper has always pushed him to his limits and made him achieve anything he’s ever wanted. Without fail.

Another adjective to describe this doe-eyed boy would be the incurable stubbornness, which demonstrates itself in every possible aspect of his life. If Jungkook wants it, Jungkook will have it. And, surely, it will be just the way he needs it to be.

A very dangerous mix. A quick-temper and a stubborn ass, when combined, can lead to the shaping of a very passionate type of personality.

So, once this charming boy laid his eyes on you- the owner of a very popular bakery in town- he immediately made up his made to have you as his girlfriend.

And there is absolutely nothing that could stop him now. Neither the fact that he is basically a complete stranger to you nor the fact that you’re more or less 4 years older than Jungkook. Not to look any further, this pretty boy wouldn’t even bother thinking about the possibility of you being in a relationship.

After all,

If Jungkookie wants something, Jungkookie will get it.

So recently, it just so happened, that you’ve been continuously hosting a rather shy young man, a very handsome young man, to stick to the facts.

Naturally, it hasn’t escaped your notice, since the boy’s been rather evidently gawking at you whenever he thinks you don’t pay attention, that maybe his numerous visits aren’t just because of the addictive sugar in your cakes and muffins.

You break into a girlish giggle, the moment you see him bashfully peaking inside the bakery and instantly searching for you with his chocolate-brown eyes. It’s freezing cold outside and the windows are covered in a sparkly layer of thin ice. It’s been a long time since winter was this cold in your hometown. Eventually, he gets inside and cheers up a little once he is sure that you’re at work. He takes off his hat and almost tip-toes to stand in a queue. He seems to be nervous about something, or maybe it’s the excitement? You can’t really tell.

You keep giving him the side-eye while trying to look busy with your customer. You notice the redness of the tip of his nose and ears. His eyes glazed over, most probably owing to the strong wind outside.

“He looks like Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer,” a very silly thought flashes through your head, “It’s so... Cute.”

“What’s cute about a snowstorm, Sweety?” An old granny asks, bewildered.

You’ve just realised that you haven’t really paid attention to your surroundings.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Ma’am,” you give an apologetic smile while handing her the box of freshly baked mini strawberry tarts.

“I am a bit distracted today,” you explain. “Could you say it again, please?”

Her face lights up with a warm smile. She turns around to look at Jungkook and playfully pokes him with her elbow.

“You young people, all you can think about are these... Dates!”

She chuckles lightly, her eyes keenly fishing for your and Jungkook’s reaction. He blushes furiously with his plump lips frozen in an “oo” shape.

“I was talking about the snowstorm. It’s coming tonight.” She patted Jungkook on his back. “You better get cosy near the fireplace and don’t wander off anywhere, kids!”

Having said that she winked in your direction and aimed for the door.

There was a moment of disturbing silence between you and Jungkook before you managed to snap out of it.

“Yes? How can I help you?” you sound very polite and professional. “Same as usual?” you add quickly smiling at Jungkook.

He has always asked for a black coffee and a small treat of your choice. Be it a piece of pumpkin pie, gooey brownie or a glazed donut, the boy didn’t care much as long as he could eat something recommended by you.

“Anything you would like to eat, Ma’am,” he has always answered with the same agonizingly sweet grin on his perfectly shaped face.

But this time, much to your astonishment, the boy shakes his head in disagreement.

“This time make it double, please.”

“Oh.” You keep staring at the boy with an expression of a deer caught in headlights. That annoying tinge of jealousy, a feeling you haven’t really expected to experience now, catches you off guard completely.

“I’m waiting for somebody,” the boy says gazing away, “Could you please bring it all to the table once my friend gets here?”

“Are you sure it’s a wise idea, boy? You heard the old lady... The snowstorm is coming,” you can’t believe your own words. Yet, you keep on talking.

“Maybe you should cancel the meeting and order a take-out?” Your hands firmly grasp the counter as your lips turn into a wry smile.

“No,” he says firmly, “It’s a very important meeting.”

“Of course. As you wish.” You turn around immediately to cover your disappointment while pretending to be busy with his order.

He walks away and, just as usual, chooses to sit at the table in the corner of the room, right beside the fireplace. Little do you know, though, that it’s not a mere whim, not a matter of a favourite place to sit or anything of that sort. It’s just the ideal place to stare at you when you stand behind the counter.

Gradually, it’s getting darker and darker outside and it seems that the wind’s really picking up. Howling noises of the gusting wind and the freezing temperature scare all the quests away, who hurriedly head back homes before it’s too late to escape the blizzard.

With the exception of Jungkook, of course.

The boy is still sitting at the table, stealing glances in your direction, even though his attention is supposedly focused on the phone in his hands.

It’s about the time to close, so you start pulling down the roller blinds while peeking at Jungkook. He doesn’t seem to budge an inch.

“Does he know I have to close the bakery?” you wonder, slowly strolling to his table.

He looks up the moment you approach him.

“It seems I’ll have to get this take-out, after all,” he cracks a rather goofy smile.

“Sure, I’ll go and pack it for you then.” You walk away to prepare the coffee and the box with two cinnamon rolls. Meanwhile, Jungkook walks up to the door and tries opening it. A powerful blow of wind almost makes him lose his balance. The wind mixed with white flakes of snow rush into the warmth of your bakery, making you shiver from cold. Jungkook struggles to slam the door and stop the blizzard from covering the entire room with snow and ice. He pushes the door with his back and finally succeeds. It’s calm and warm again. Once more, the comforting sounds of crackling fire fill up the bakery’s interiors. You can hear Jungkook pant slightly, as he stands with his back pressed against the door and his hands resting on his knees. You come up to him with the order in your hands. He looks at you and then at the box with his sweet treat

“I’m afraid you got stuck with me here, Ma’am,” he beams sweetly at you.

Rightly so, there is so much snow outside it’s impossible to go out, not to mention the piercing wind and the freezing cold temperature. You bite your lip, being worried about the prospects of spending the entire night here. Noticing your concern, Jungkook straightens up and gazes right into your eyes.

“How about eating these delicious sweets together, Ma’am?”

“How about your friend, though...,” you answer weakly. “Won’t she be disappointed?”

Jungkook blinks twice, looking very much surprised. You almost chuckle at his reaction. The boy looks utterly clueless.

“She?” he asks baffled.

“Yes, your friend.” You can’t hide the sour tone of your voice.

He starts scratching his head, still being completely oblivious, and then he smiles again.

“Ahh...”, he stutters, “Yeah...”

“It’s nothing important,” he moves closer and walks behind you. His long fingers dig into your shoulder blades and you almost jump when he starts pushing you in the direction of the table near the fireplace.

“Oi, hold on here, oi...!”

You look behind your shoulder seeking for his face.

“You told me it’s ‘so important’!”

Both of you almost bump into the chair. Jungkook was so caught up with finding an explanation to your question that he didn’t notice it standing in your way. But, at the last moment, he grabbed your shoulders and not so gently forced you to stop, which ended up in you bumping into his chest and nearly head-butting him .

“Ma’am, please be more careful!”

“You were the one pushing me!”

He sighs and moves the chair for you rolling his eyes in the process, which makes you pout your lips while staring at him angrily. You both sit down, averting each other’s gaze. Eventually, Jungkook gives in.

“How about we just eat the sweets and forget about all this nonsense?”

He smiles sweetly with his eyes glued to your face.

“I’m sure you’ve prepared something very delicious. Just as always.”

He opens the box and his eyes sparkle with excitement. He makes this “OOH” sound which children so often give out while opening Christmas presents.

“Cinnamon buns?! Are you for real?” he rejoices. “I thought all got sold out.”

He takes them out of the box, one by one, serving the bigger bun for you. Then, he takes the coffee and removes the plastic lid. It’s steaming hot. Much to your surprise, the boy starts blowing air at your beverage wanting to cool it off.

“Ai, it’s so hot!”

He puts the cup right next to the cinnamon bun and looks at you.

“Wait a little, please. I don’t want you to burn yourself.”

Having said that, the boy immediately reaches for his own bun and happily bites into it. You really feel relieved because if he didn’t start munching on the food, you wouldn’t even know how to react to his caring behaviour and words.

“God, he is so sweet.”

Your mind screams as you keep watching the dark haired boy. He basically devours the bun, stuffing his cheeks with huge bites of the pastry. You could even swear you`ve just heard him humming in approval. His fingers get all sticky from the glaze as he doesn’t even bother using the spoon and eats while holding the bun in his hand. Your eyes widen a little when he puts his index finger to his mouth in order to lick it clean. He then notices your prying eyes.

“Aren’t you eating?” he asks worriedly.

“Of course I am.”

Right away, you take a bite, angry at yourself for staring at him for so long. He beams cutely.

“Good, you should eat a lot, Noona.”

You almost choke on the bun. Damn, he has just called you ‘Noona’.

“Listen here, boy-”

“It’s Jungkook,” he interrupts. “My name is Jungkook.”

He swallows one last bite of the bun and licks his lips while still looking at you. A ticklish sensation builds up in your belly and you decide it’s better to keep your comment for later.

“What did you want to say?” Jungkook nags.

“Forget it,” you say taking another bite to avoid answering.

Suddenly, he starts chuckling and when you give him a questioning look he seems to get more and more amused.

“What’s your problem, eh?” Your brows furrow.

Much to your surprise, he leans in and places his thumb on your upper lip. He rubs it gently and then brings the finger to his mouth.

“Now, I have none. But, the chocolate on your lip was a bit too... Distracting.”

This odd sensation in your gut has just reached its peak and your heart starts pounding.

“Would you like some more, Jungkook?” You question weakly.

The boy shifts in his chair in excitement, ”Can I get one, please?!”

“Sure,” you whisper standing up and hurriedly walking over the counter. You started panicking again and you’re happy that you managed to distract his attention and wriggle out of this... bizarre situation.

Moments later, you take a deep breath and head back to the table. You put on a confident smile and serve the boy yet another cinnamon bun with a double chocolate frosting.

Jungkook grabs the bun and begins chewing on it joyfully. Just when you think the boy will give you a much-needed breather to collect yourself, he starts talking with his mouth full of food.

“Noona, your boyfriend is really lucky. I’ve never eaten anything better than your pastry.”

You take one huge gulp of coffee before answering. His attempts at wooing you are as clear as day, and yet, something urges you to play along.

“Look at you, you curious bunny,” you smirk crossing your arms on your chest. This nickname seems to fit quite well.

Jungkook stops chewing and his eyes get even bigger than usual.

“I’m not with anybody and if you say such things you can upset your girlfriend, Jungkookie.”

He swallows the last bit of his second serving and readjusts himself on the chair.

“I don’t have a girlfriend, Noona.”

“How come?” you smile playfully. “No cute girls at school?”

He rolls his eyes. He rolls his eyes so hard you want to slap him for being such an arrogant ass.

“It’s unbelievable!” you think to yourself. One moment he is an adorable kid and the next one he gets so cheeky it’s difficult to put up with him.

“At the University,” he corrects you. “I’m not interested in these girls. They’re all so loud... and childish.”

He leans in a little, closing the already small distance between you. His knee accidentally (or maybe not really?) brushes against yours.

“I prefer older women,” he announces flashing his bunny teeth. “Just like you.”

“Ohh... Is that so?” you ask him while putting your elbows on the table. “What’s so attractive about us, older women? Tell me, please.”

The boy giggles nervously looking away for one or two seconds but eventually, he turns to you and quickly licks his lips before answering.

“You’re just so much more mature and...,” he drums his fingers on the table.

“And?” Your heart starts racing for no reason. It seems you’re really enjoying this conversation.

“And you know how to take care of me,” he clears his throat and adds, “Properly.”

You grin rather a bit too provocatively, “You mean sex?”

He nods his head vigorously, being visibly tense.

“Yes this is what I meant,” he answers trying to sound as cool as it’s only possible.

“So, you must have had previous experiences with older than you ladies, is that correct?”

The tension in the room gets so thick one could almost cut it with a knife.

“I’ve had one, ehh, let’s call her a friend.”

“Mhmmm...,” you hum in response waiting eagerly for him to continue.

“It wasn’t anything big. Just...,” he hesitates. “Just sex.”

“I see,” your throat goes dry when he glances at you hungrily.

“But it was a long time ago. Almost a year and a half.” He finishes the story still ogling you.

“So, it basically means that you haven’t had a girl for all this time?”

“Frankly speaking...yes.”

There is a moment of silence as you’re basically trying to digest his words and their implication.

“Noona,” his pitch of voice gets a bit too high, “How about you?”

“What about me?” you ask perplexed.

“Have you ever had a younger man?” Upon uttering this nosy question, Jungkook moves his chair closer to you and leans down. His elbows now resting on his thighs. It seems you’re basically trapped, with your legs right between his and his handsome face right in front of yours.

You have no intention of showing how much it affects you. Your palms start sweating owing to the close proximity between you and Jungkook.

“You mean... Rather a boy, not a man, right?” You raise your eyebrow cheekily.

His cute smile disappears from his face and is replaced with an angry-looking pout. It doesn’t last long, though, as the boy gives you an eat-shitting grin before he opens his mouth to respond.

“No, not a boy. I was talking about a younger man.”

“I’m afraid I know none, Jungkookie,” you smile triumphantly. “But I can safely say, that I’ve just met a very cute younger boy.”

He snorts with laughter and starts cracking his knuckles angrily. He bites on his lip gazing right into your eyes.

“I can easily prove how wrong you are, Noona,” he challenges and traces your body with his eyes. He wants you and you know it all too well.

“Oh really?” you mock. “How would you do that?”

But, you want him too and you’re not going to pretend. It’s just that the boy is really fun to tease and you simply can’t stop riling him up.

A lone vein throbbed above Jungkook’s right eye. You just smile a rather deceptively innocent smile in response.

“Right,” he whispers through clenched teeth and lowers his gaze and then suddenly he chuckles lowly which sends shivers down your spine.

“Actually, it is very easy to prove you wrong, Noona. I don’t really think you’d squeeze your thighs so much in a presence of just a cute boy.”

Instantly, you part your legs feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks and before you can say anything Jungkook’s hand creeps under your skirt as he crashes your lips together. His bunny teeth collide with yours but you don’t mind as the boy impatiently forces himself inside your mouth, eagerly swirling his tongue against yours. A delicious whimper escapes his lips as he runs his fingers over the elastic band of your stockings. Without much hesitation, Jungkook snatches at the band and pulls off the material to get to your bare thigh. You jump as his cold hand grabs hold of your over-sensitive flesh and begins fondling it.

“Mhmm... Jun-jungkook,” you mewl into the kiss.

He pulls away for a moment, both of you gasping for air. His nose brushes against yours and your foreheads are tightly pressed together.

“All my friends call me Kookie,” he grins cheekily seeing you so whipped for him after a mere kiss and some thigh petting.

“Feel free to do that,” he adds squeezing your thigh harshly and your eyes flutter shut as you bite your lip to stop yourself from gasping.

You’d feel ashamed for dropping your guard so easily, you’d be angry at yourself for moaning right into this boy’s mouth, you’d be disappointed at your own hips so wantonly pushing forward, encouraging Jungkook to move his shaky fingers a little bit higher, but the thing is, you don’t. He makes you so horny and you can hear your own heart beating through your chest. Once again, you jerk your hips being totally lost in your own lust. The boy fiercely grips your skin, digging his nails into your thigh so much that you can feel your flesh burning because of his rough groping.

Your breath hitches as you struggle to deliver an answer with a coquettish grin on your face.

“Why, does it get you off when your Noonas give you cute nicknames?”

As if he meant to punish you, Jungkook pushes away the soaking wet material of your panties and rubs your clit with his thumb making you arch your back to grant the boy a better access to your wetted core. Much to your disappointment, Jungkook doesn’t press harder. Instead, he gently massages your folds making you wiggle closer to him in frustration. His finger pad lightly applying pressure on the tip of your clit.

“Kookie, you little- ahhh,” you groan angrily when the boy completely removes his finger from your entrance.

“You little shi-,”

“Somehow I think it gets you off just as much as me, Noona.” He butts in, not allowing you to vent out your irritation. Right then, his hands sneak under your apron. Jungkook forcefully grabs the material of your skirt and pulls it off together with your panties in a one sharp tug eliciting a dissatisfied whine from you as there is nothing to protect your ass from the cold surface of the wooden chair. Your body shivers and small goosebumps appear all over your skin. You reach out to Jungkook, shamelessly craving his warmth and thirsting for his touch. Your face grimaces as the unpleasant cold sensation keeps attacking your body. Noticing your discomfort, Jungkook immediately wraps his arms around you and guides you to sit on his muscular thigh. Your clit rubbing all over his jeans as you sit down on him.

“Baby girl, come here I’ll warm you up. I’m so sorry,” the apologetic and caring tone of his angelic voice makes your stomach flutter, heat pooling low in your belly at his tender sweet-nothings whispered against your ear. His manly hands wander down your back to grab your butt and force you to ride his leg. His hands are so warm, squeezing your ass with such a force it will for sure end up with a couple of bruises the next day. Obediently, you start to rock your hips in sync with Jungkook’s rough grips. He sets up an even pace, always making sure to push his thigh up to make you feel him better. You’re boldly fucking yourself on his thick leg, straddling a boy who seemed to be so sweetly innocent and shy. The biggest bullshit ever.

One of his hands greedily reaches for the straps of your apron. He swiftly unwraps the bow and strips you naked not wanting to waste any more time.

“I was tempted to leave the apron on, but...,” he purrs into your ear grazing your earlobe with his teeth. His hand on your ass drives you crazy, not allowing you to stop grinding even for a moment. He’s breathing against your neck, softly pressing his wet lips to your ticklish skin. You’re now completely naked, trying to cover your body, tightly wrapping your arms around his torso and burying your face into his chest.

“But, I think today,” he inhales sharply. “Today I need to see you completely naked.” His whisper is so desperate that you can feel your walls clenching around the thin air in excitement. You squeeze his leg tighter and he moans lewdly encouraging you to go on.

“Kookie, ahh-” you moan back addressing him by his nickname.

This instant, Jungkook’s hand wanders in the direction of your clit. The pleasant sensation from minutes before, of his fingers, gently rubbing your folds, once again sets you on fire. Jungkook grabs your legs and links his thighs to make you sit on him with your core right in front of the bulge in his pants. Your legs hanging loose on both of his sides. “Baby girl, you are so fucking beautiful,” he squeaks as he basically devours your entire body. You can’t really hide anything from him now. Your eyes locking for a brief moment before he gazes down, lusting over your exposed and shivering skin. You stare at him and his face, into those sinfully beautiful chocolate eyes, and feel something low in your body tighten. Involuntarily, you push your hips into Jungkook’s hand, urging him to somehow ease off this sudden flexing of muscles in your core.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he keeps on moaning, revealing a bit of his submissive side. His words becoming bolder and bolder, lewd compliments causing both of you to blush.

But then, it’s your turn to groan as your walls grip Jungkook’s intrusive finger. You cry out in pure pleasure, as he simply keeps on pushing the entire length of his long and slender finger in and out of your pussy.

“I love how you feel down there, Noona,” he admits, pushing his finger further, to better feel your heat, your wetness. Your body begins pulsing around his thick digit.

“Oh fuck,” you groan wildly, not recognizing your own voice anymore. “Just like that, ahh, please,” you beg, nails digging into his scalp.

Hearing as those needy cries fall from your lips, Jungkook feels his dick throbbing with aching need. He groans pushing his hips forward, hoping to get some friction from your pussy. Unfortunately, your hips don’t meet and he wants to cry from all of the tension that has built up in him because of you. He clenches his teeth, still thrusting his hips forward, never stopping to finger your pussy despite his painful erection. You’re so caught up in chasing your own orgasm that you haven’t really noticed how desperate he’s become. He runs his thumb between your slick folds and then violently pushes his second finger into you.

“Kookie, fuck! I’m cumming,” you scream, fiercely pulling at his hair and biting his collarbone to somehow muffle your moans.

“Baby, you’re clenching so hard,” a groan rips from his chest at how quickly he managed to make you come. Your body is so responsive to his touch that he simply can’t wait to bury his dick inside you and make you feel even better.

Your hips keep rocking against his palm and you tremble. You can’t really keep your balance as your head starts spinning. Jungkook immediately hugs you tighter, helping you to ride out your violent orgasm. Your body convulses for one last time and you go entirely limp, melting into his arms.

Jungkook, so desperately craving his own release, stands up with your legs wrapped around him and sits you on the chair. You’re still a bit dizzy from your high when your naked ass touches the surface of the wooden seat. He kneels in front of you with his hands around you to prevent you from falling to the ground. A squeaky noise of disappointment escapes your lips as he slowly loosens his hold. Speechless and trembling from the after orgasm shocks which repeatedly surge through your womanhood, deep in your pelvis, you gaze up seeking Jungkook’s eyes. He notices your worried expression and leans in to place a caring kiss on your forehead.

“Baby girl, wait a bit here, please. Will you?” he murmurs caressing your cheek with his hand.

Your eyes widen at the sight of Jungkook raising from his knees to hurriedly take off his t-shirt and sweater. Your jaw drops and you feel a sudden tightness in your chest when Jungkook stands in front of you with his perfectly shaped body. You jump on the chair as the boy suddenly bends over to grab his jacket from the backrest. He freezes for a moment and hovers over you. Helplessly, you let your eyes wander down his upper body. You mewl weakly, his lower abdomen muscles and the hard bulge in his jeans make your mouth water. He looks so delicious you can’t help but reach out to his belt as you lick your lips in anticipation. Jungkook’s body flexes and he frantically grabs your wrists pleading in a weak voice.

“Baby, please… I told you to wait a moment,” he says furrowing his brows as if it was physically painful for him to push you away. He lets go of your wrists and walks away in the direction of the fireplace.

“B-but, Kookie?!” you stutter trying to stand up and follow the boy but you’re forced to sit down as your legs wobble dangerously.

“Noona! Please!” Jungkook turns to look at you with a stern expression on his face. “Just sit there and wait, dammit.” You dig your nails into your thighs and bite your lip as you observe his actions. You hate being ordered around, nevertheless, your body simply won’t budge an inch after Jungkook’s command. He neatly places his jacket and sweater on the floor and then straightens up to evaluate his work.

“This will have to do…,” he grimaces not being entirely satisfied with the result and then hurries over to you.

“Kookie?” you whisper as he effortlessly picks you up from the chair and carries you to the fireplace. He gently lays you on the previously prepared clothes and basically lunges at you, hungrily sucking on your lower lip and moaning into the kiss. His body collapsed on yours and it’s difficult for you to catch a breath. While he is busy assaulting your mouth, you decide to take care of his confined erection sneaking your hands in between your tightly pressed bodies and skilfully unbuckling the belt. Feeling as your fingers work on the zipper of his trousers, Jungkook breaks the kiss, propping himself on his elbows. He grunts in excitation, thrusting his hips into your hands with a predatory look on his face.

“Fuck, Noona. Let me help you,” he kneels between your thighs and hastily tries to remove his trousers. You sit down in order to help him pull them off his rock hard thighs noticing the stickiness and wetness of the material in the area where you were grinding your pussy. Your hands meet as both of you grasp the fabric of his jeans and strip Jungkook naked. His chest is moving up and down in an unsteady rhythm and your own heart quickens its beat as Jungkook reveals more and more of his lower body parts.

“Ooh baby, I can hardly wait,” he moans lewdly once his cock springs out of his pants making you hold your breath for a brief moment. His length is impressive, precum covering his entire shaft with the very tip of his erection having a lovely furious red colour. Jungkook’s penis throbs fuelled by the adrenaline and desire building up in his body. Scared, or maybe totally taken aback by his size, you pull back for a moment. When you look up, you can see that his smile is gone and his eyes are even darker. They narrow dangerously, and then, the boy pushes you on the bed and sits on top of you placing his hands on both sides of your head. His dick rests on your belly, its wet and slick surface tickles your skin and your body shivers. Jungkook focuses on your exposed tits and deliciously erected nipples. His predatory stare embarrasses you to no end but you can’t control your own desire, as once again, your pussy begins pounding in need for Jungkook. You gaze down, at his thick member resting just above your womanhood. Worried and unsure, you furrow your brows. Jungkook’s melodic voice drives away your concerns as the boy leans in and your noses touch.

“It’s all for you, pretty girl,” he whispers and you can feel his hot breath on your lips.

You clear your dry throat before delivering an answer in a shaky voice, “I haven’t had anybody for a while and you’re... You’re s-so-”

Jungkook bites your lower lip not allowing you to finish your sentence. He starts sucking on it and, unexpectedly, grabs your hips and forces you to lay on your side while positioning himself right behind you. He shivers in excitement when his cock rubs against your ass. He pulls you in, pressing your ass cheeks to his veiny dick. He moans and moans fucking your back. His head buried in the crook of your neck while he uses your buttocks to get himself off. He groans and forcefully seizes the underside of your knee to pull your leg up, preparing himself to find a perfect position to thrust into your tight hole.

“You’ll feel good, Baby girl. I promise,” he almost cries out, not being able to surpass his whimpers.

Upon uttering these words, Jungkook froze, not intending to move before getting your approval. You quickly nod, digging your nails into his hip and feeling his lust-tense body right under the palm of your hand. His skin sizzles with desire and, as his arousal has started to cause him pain, Jungkook greedily pushes his entire length into your pink hole while holding your ass in place. He groans and writhes, biting your shoulder as his cock throbs right up from his crotch. The juice-drenched lips of your pussy allowed him to slide in easily, slamming right into your core and brushing with the very tip of his aching dick over your sweet spot. The passion in your belly ignites and, wanting to feel him better inside your hot walls, you push yourself on his dick, frantically moaning his name to encourage him to fill you up with his entire length.

“Fuck, Noona!” the boy whimpers, excitedly pushing forward and stuffing you with his dick.

“That’s it Kookie,” you praise him in between desperate moans causing him to redouble his efforts and increase his speed. He groans in pure pleasure repeatedly pushing in and out of your creamy pussy while holding tight to your hips in order to always bury himself as deep as it’s only possible. His member swells even more and his cock stretches your fuck-tunnel so much you can’t believe it doesn’t hurt. His body spasm and the boy’s movements become frantic as the boy gradually loses his steady tempo.

“Please, Baby! More, give me more!” you wail desperately feeling your pussy lips quivering. You’re so close to your second release that your clit has already started pulsating. Utterly lost, you raise your ass a little and push back, continuously slamming right into Jungkook’s dick to meet his strong thrusts. The boy gives out such delicious sounds you keep on fucking back wanting to hear more of his filthy whimpers.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hisses through clenched teeth. Quickly, he grabs your ass and pulls his cock out of your entrance which angers you to no end. You cry out like crazy, feeling so empty and frustrated.

“Get back there! You little shit!” a scream escapes your irritated from moaning throat as your hand reaches to Jungkook’s ass. You scratch his flesh with your nails and squeeze his buttocks hard and long enough for him to beg you to stop. But you don’t.

His head falls back and his cock twitches uncontrollably as he keeps gasping for air. It hurts a lot but the pain mixes with pleasure and he gets dizzy from all the different sensations attacking his needy body.

“Yes, ohh fuckk! Ple-please!” Jungkook pleads not knowing why and what for.

Suddenly, he redirects his pulsating cock and starts grazing with it against your clit. He rubs your pussy lips with his entire shaft, from his swollen balls up to the very tip, giving you shivers of ecstasy. He repeats the movement, sending waves of pleasure through all of your body. You yell out shamelessly, as your pussy lips begin convulsing around his cock. You whimper and your body twists as you feel the thrill of an approaching orgasm. Jungkook moans out loud, amazed at the tingling sensation of your clit throbbing right under his dick. Right then, he simply lifts your hips a bit higher and hammers his cock back into your drenched entrance. You shriek as your walls swallow him all, clenching around his shaft. Your needy pussy grips him hard and Jungkook can’t keep it in anymore. As your pussy walls shudder he starts milking out his cock inside you, climaxing violently. He gives out a guttural groan once you arch your back to adjust to his throbbing dick. He guides you both through your orgasms, fervently thrusting into your core. Gradually, his thrusts become more and more shallow, to the point when both of you stop moving.

Being totally spent, Jungkook gently pulls out of you and basically collapses on top of your trembling body. He is panting heavily, trying to steady his irregular breathing. He smiles warmly at you, which makes you feel weak and defenceless. He cups your face and places a kiss on your forehead purring softly.

“You know, Noona...,” he whispers tenderly as you brush away his damped bangs from his forehead.

“Yeah?” your heart keeps pounding loudly in your chest. Jungkook’s loving stare and handsome face make you feel warm inside.

“I have to admit...,” he begins sheepishly with a little smirk on his face, “I have to admit that I lied to you, you know.”

“Oh really?” you cock your eyebrow matching your smirk with his. “Don’t tell me you’re under 18,” you start giggling being a bit too happy with your smart comeback. Teary-eyed from laughing, you gaze at angry-looking Jungkook. He gives you a sour look showing a bit of his childish side.

“Very funny, indeed. Ehh, Noona! Stop!” he whines pouting his lips which makes you giggle even more. You rake his hair, trying to reconcile with your dissatisfied boy. He gives in once you start kissing his jawline, slowly proceeding to his neck.

“I didn’t have any date, you know?” he confesses, tilting his head to give you a better access to his neck.

You smirk playfully gazing right into his eyes, “I figured out that much.”

He snorts with laughter.

“So, tell me. Were you planning to fuck me, here on the floor, right from the beginning?”

Jungkook smiles triumphantly.

“More or less,” he responds. “I was considering the counter too, though.”

Both of you start laughing heartily and the boy places several kisses on your lips before he begins talking again.

“Mhmm, I was thinking... Can we go out on a date tomorrow?” he asks nervously licking his lip. His fingertips play with the lock of your silky hair.

“You’re doing it all wrong Jungkook. First, you take a girl on a date, and then you fuck her on the floor. Are we clear?”

“So, does it mean you agree?” The anticipation in his eyes is too adorable for you to handle so you hug him tightly, hiding your head in his chest.

“Mhmmm... I could give you a second chance, I suppose.”

The boy forces you to look at him and smiles so brightly your stomach flutters. You close your eyes and, in all honesty, you have never felt happier in your life than now, right in Jungkook’s arms.

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