#although if they wanted to generate buzz for a big project it would be a great move tbh

[sluttycinderella]

y’all do get that if dan and phil hard launch it will break the internet right? like people who haven’t thought about dnp since 2016 and literally everyone else with an online presence will know. suddenly there will be so many new eyes on our cute little community that we’ve managed to build from the ashes of the early phandom. it’ll be worldwide news that those guys from youtube who “weird girls” always shipped were actually together the whole time. it’ll be absolute chaos. it’s not that i don’t want them to hard launch if that’s genuinely what they want to do, i’m just afraid that it’ll send shockwaves through the entire internet that’ll shatter the nice little thing we’ve got going on here. i for one don’t want to be talking to an acquaintance in class next semester and hear them say “did you hear that dan and phil from youtube are together? that’s crazy! i never watched them ‘cause their fans were always so weird. i didn’t even know they were gay. i guess their fans bullied them out of the closet.” and then have to pretend to be normal.

[watchmenanon]

Let's Hear It for the Boy: Finn Wolfhard

from STATUS Magazine August 2017 feat. Finn Wolfhard and Noah Schnapp

by STATUS Magazine

While some kids hide underneath their blankets once they discover the monsters underneath their beds, Finn Wolfhard didn't need a lot of growing up before he decided to face them himself. Sure, the underground creatures he takes on are a bit fictional, but the young actor is braving the real world with promise and precision.

It’s not that hard to be smitten with Finn Wolfhard.

Just like the characters that he portrays, he’s a charming young boy who views the world with eyes of wonder and excitement. At 14 years old, he’s already been in two huge thriller franchises that most kids his age wouldn’t even dare to watch. He first hit our frequencies last year starring in Stranger Things as the determined leader of the pack, Mike Wheeler. The series might’ve catapulted his career, but his love for the craft has been keeping him grounded. “The only thing that’s different now is that I get stopped on the street for pictures and have a lot followers on social media, but that never changed my personality or anything. I’m just happy to be an actor in general,” he adds. Making his way from Hawkins, Indiana to Derry, Maine, he’s also set to star in the upcoming movie adaptation of Stephen King’s horror classic It as the buck-toothed goon Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier. While both involve a plot where children mysteriously go missing, we’ve found ourselves a star in Finn Wolfhard. He’s definitely got the “It” factor, and there’s nothing strange about that.

Despite being a middle-schooler, Finn is wasting no time kidding around. Although it seems like he’s shaping up to be sci-fi’s It-boy, he’s been gradually showing different sides of himself. When he’s not busy slaying strange creatures and dancing clowns, Finn can be seen shredding his bass and guitar, and he’s got an impeccable taste to match the skill he’s been refining. His covers of Mac DeMarco and Nirvana have been circulating across the Internet, in addition to the buzz he’s been creating with his band Calpurnia–and it doesn’t stop there. He recently hosted and performed at Sweet Relief’s benefit concert called Strange ‘80s alongside Sarah Silverman, “Weird Al” Yankovic, Tenacious D, and Slipknot’s Corey Taylor. And now, he’s stepping behind the camera with his latest project, co-directing a crowdfunded music video for Spendtime Palace’s Western rock tune “Sonara” with former Viner Josh Ovalle. With It premiering this September and the second season of Stranger Things streaming this October on top of his personal ventures, Finn might’ve seemingly bitten off more than he can chew, but never underestimate a small kid with a big appetite.

: You recently dabbled into the world of filmmaking, co-directing a Westernthemed music video for Spendtime Palace with Josh Ovalle. Can you tell us some of the directors that inspire your vision as a director?

A: I think my favorite directors would be Spike Jonze and Edgar Wright. I like Spike Jonze because he’s so versatile in a way that he can make skateboarding videos but also win an Oscar for Best Screenplay. That really gives me faith that I can be an actor and still be a director. And Edgar Wright’s incredible because he just knows how to create something visually. He has perfect vision. Oh, also Sofia Coppola! That’s another director that I admire a lot.

Q: We’ve also been seeing a lot of your band Calpurnia online. Can we expect any music release from you guys soon?

A: Yeah, it all depends on my schedule, but I think we’ll be doing an EP that’ll be out in the next couple of months. Hopefully next year, we’ll do some shows. We want to do as many shows as we can ‘cause we love performing so much. We want to do shows in Vancouver and a tour maybe next summer.

Q: Going into your upcoming projects, you’ve been into a lot of scifi and supernatural stuff so far. Was this a conscious choice or a mere coincidence?

A: It’s a weird coincidence for sure. ‘Cause when I auditioned for Stranger Things, I was auditioning for everything. That was just the right thing for me to do at that time. Same thing with It, and I’m glad that they were. It’s just complete coincidence. Acting is my favorite thing to do, so whatever comes to me, I’d do it as long as the script is good.

Q: Both Stranger Things and It are set in the glorious decade of the ‘80s. How were you able to play a character from a time period you have no memory of?

A: The cool thing about playing a character in general is you have to add yourself to it, so I try to put as much of myself into every character that I play as possible. Like in Stranger Things, I read the lines like how I would say them in real life. I think the only thing that really has to do with the ‘80s is that it’s set in a different time. If you know enough about it, it’s easy enough to do.

Q: You got the chance to work with Sean Astin for this season. How was it like working with him?

A: He’s so amazing. He was open to anything. I asked him every question I had about The Goonies and The Lord of the Rings. He just gave me so much knowledge and told me to enjoy being a kid but at the same time, be comfortable with what you’re doing as well as the projects that I’m in.

Q: How different would this season of Stranger Things be from the first one?

A: The second season is just like the first season, but better. It has the same sense of wonder and adventure, but adding more horror and drama aspects to it. I even think it’s funnier than the first. It’s taking everything that the first season did and just improving it.

Q: Moving forward into your career, what kind of projects are you interested in doing next?

A: For acting, I’d love to do a comedy or a drama. I don’t want to do too many sci-fi and horror stuff ‘cause I would just get typecasted. Obviously, I enjoy doing Stranger Things, but the genre in general isn’t always my favorite. And I’d also want to continue directing anything that’s written by me. I don’t want to misquote Matt and Ross [Duffer], but they told me, “If you want to be a director, you have to write your own stuff.” And I really like that ‘cause you have full control of everything.

Q: Being a kid yourself, do you have any tips for other kids who want to follow the same path that you thread on?

A: I think anyone my age who’s into acting should go to open casting call websites like Craigslist and just find whatever they can find. If you want to do acting classes, that’s fine, but acting classes never worked for me. I’ve learned to access my emotions way more as I went along. But it depends. If you want to study it, that’s a different thing. I only advise that you go to school for it if you don’t know anything about acting. But if you already know enough about it, then I think that you should just do your own thing.

[beautifulmusic19]

Unlocking the Mystery of Cryptocurrency: What Is Cryptocurrency and How is it Used

Welcome to the electrifying world of cryptocurrency!  If you've ever wondered about those mysterious digital coins buzzing around, fret not! We're here to demystify the wonders of this virtual gold rush in a language even your grandma would understand.

So, what is cryptocurrency? Picture this: You're at a digital bazaar where instead of physical coins and bills, everyone's trading with invisible, encrypted tokens. That's cryptocurrency in a nutshell! It's like Monopoly money for the internet, but with real-world value.

So, how does this magic work? Well, it's all about blockchain technology. Imagine a giant, tamper-proof digital ledger that records every transaction ever made. That's the blockchain! It's decentralized, meaning no authority controls it, making it as secure as Fort Knox.

Now, let's talk about the star of the show: Bitcoin!  Created by the mysterious Satoshi Nakamoto (who may or may not be a time-traveling ninja), Bitcoin kicked off the crypto craze in 2009. Since then, thousands of cryptocurrencies have popped up, each with its unique twist.

But hold your horses! Cryptocurrency isn't just about making a quick buck (although that's a perk). It's also about shaking up the financial world as we know it. No more waiting for banks to approve your transactions or paying hefty fees for international transfers. With crypto, you're the boss of your money!

Now, let's dive into the fun part: how people use cryptocurrency. Buckle up, because the possibilities are endless! 

- Want to buy a pizza? Check out merchants that accept Bitcoin or other cryptocurrencies. Who knew digital dough could buy you a slice of heaven?

- Feeling generous? Donate to your favorite charity with a few clicks and watch your impact ripple globally.

- Love gaming? Get ready to level up with in-game currencies like Ethereum-based tokens. Your virtual loot just got a whole lot shinier!

- Dreaming of a decentralized future? Invest in blockchain projects that aim to revolutionize everything from voting to supply chains.

So, whether you're a tech-savvy pioneer or just curious about the next big thing, cryptocurrency has something for everyone. It's not just a currency; it's a movement. So, strap in and join the digital revolution! 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Little Bones 2

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series); harassment, general creepiness, unwanted touches

This is dark! (biker) Thor x chubby!reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: You’re a city girl stuck in a small town, but Birch isn’t as sleepy as it seems.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown and When the Weight Comes Down

Note: We got another part and I hope you love biker!Thor as much as I do. It’s lots of fun.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 2: Better butter your cue finger up

The bottle of wine sat on your counter and you hid away the vodka in your freezer as you resisted the temptation of both. The library made hangovers even worse with its bright lights and tedious nothingness. So you tried to ignore the tapping at your shoulder, the persistent tug of your paranoia, and pretended that nothing had changed. In Birch, nothing did change, right?

The click of your mouse and the loud tapping of keys filled the silence of the library. Colin snored with eyes wide open. It was hard to tell when the old man was awake or sleeping. You weren’t sure there was a line left between the two for him. He spent most of his working hours in the back on the other side of the windowed wall although what exactly he did there remained a mystery.

There wasn’t very much to do there outside the occasional school visits in which students walked down to complete some research project or the teacher’s held a crafting circle. You liked those days as often you could join in and help wrangle in the pupils as they explored the sterile shelves.

Melissa stood and her chair rolled back with a grumble. She stretched and bent to grab her purse from under the desk.

“I’m going down to Bab’s. You want anything?”

“Hmm,” you tapped your chin as you leaned back. “I wouldn’t mind a latte. Oh, and I think they have the banana loaf today. A slice of that too.”

You peeked under the desk and sat forward to grab your bag from the cubby beside your PC tower. “Nope,” Mel stopped you, “it’s on me today. I need a breath of fresh air anyway. Even if it is cold as hell.”

“Oh, thanks, Mel,” you smiled and grabbed a pen to click in your monotony. “We should dig out the Christmas decorations soon. It might actually give us something to do.”

“Maybe for an hour or two,” she pulled her jacket from the rack that stood against the wall between the front counter and the back room, “We could try something new this year. I saw these lights online, you can program them with your phone.”

“You think Colin could handle that?”

“Like he would even notice.” She laughed and pulled on her coat and grabbed her purse. “Latte, banana bread.” She recited. “I’ll be back.”

You watched her go then stretched your legs out as you arched in the chair. You fell back limp and closed your eyes. You could fall asleep right there. You really couldn’t blame Colin for his waking trance. This place made your ears buzz and your head spin.

You heard the whoosh of the automatic doors and sat up. You were surprised at your visitor but not disappointed. Melissa’s daughter approached the desk as she swung her bag in her hand. You could tell by the little wrinkle between her eyebrows that she wasn’t happy.

“Your mom’s just gone to Bab’s,” you rolled closer to the desk. “You must’ve seen her.”

“I saw her.” She said tersely. She stilled her fidgeting and planted her dangling purse on the desk. She sighed and crossed her arms. “I’m here to talk to you.”

“Is something the matter?”

You were nervous. You knew her as well as her mother and you got along. You shared an interest in old Hollywood and a taste for dry history and humour. You liked her, envied her even for having a mother like Melissa.

“I hate doing this. I hate when he makes me do this.” She dropped her arms and instead gripped her hips. “You want to come down to the Asp tonight? For a drink?”

You chuckled and clicked the pen. “It’s Wednesday. I have to open tomorrow and--”

“Hrgh,” she huffed. “I’m sorry but it’s… not a question.”

You put the pen down and clamped your lips together. She shook her head and looked away.

“It’s an order. From Bucky.” She tapped her toe on the carpet. “I tried to tell him that you wouldn’t want to come so late. That you know, you work. He just doesn’t listen and--” She heaved and threw up her hands in exasperation, “I tried.”

“But… me? I don’t even know any of those… people. It’s not really my scene.” You swallowed and dug your nail into your thumb. 

“I’ll be there. Same with Steve’s girl from the bakery. She’s nice. And…” her eyes were dull but irritated, “look, if you don’t show up, Bucky will go and find you. Everyone in town reports to him. You don’t have to be in his club, he owns Birch.” She grabbed the thin strap of her small purse and drew it from the desk, “you don’t want to learn that the hard way like I did.”

You knew it wasn’t Bucky who wanted you there, you suspected that big blond brute who had chased you down the street. Her anxiety fed yours and made you uneasy. If she were that afraid, how scared should you be?

“I think you know my answer considering I’ve been given little choice.” You said firmly. “What time?”

“Seven. I got him to budge on at least that. You won’t be out too late.” She gave a weak smile and twisted the strap of her bag. “Stay close to me and I’ll do what I can. You know, with Steve’s girl, I really tried…” She looked away and rolled her as they turned glossy. “Sometimes, Bucky listens to me and I’m figuring out how to make him.”

“Why are you with him?” You whispered. “Why--”

“You think it’s a choice I made.” She blinked and sniffed. “No, it was made for me when I was born in this god forsaken pit.” She thrust her purse over her shoulder and shrugged. “I don’t know why anyone would make up their mind to come here.”

“I can’t say I’m happy with the decision.” You returned.

She sent you a pitying look before she spun away. She marched back to the doors as her mother nearly collided with her. They spoke for a few minutes before the younger left and Melissa came over to plop her goodies on the desk.

“New latte flavour, candy cane. I figured we might get a bit festive.” She announced.

💀

You stood outside the Asp and stared up at the snow-covered marquee. The powder began to fall just after noon and collected along the small ledge below the image of Cleopatra.  You wore a bright pink toque with an oversized pom-pom and tucked your chin down against the matching scarf tucked down the front of your cherry-coloured coat. You stuck out among the grey of Birch.

You didn’t put much effort into getting ready. You kept on the same polka-dot blouse from work and traded your trousers for faded jeans and a pair of knee-high boots. You took a breath and stepped through the doors, barely avoided the rush of snow that fell down behind you.

The bar smelled of beer and a stale but pungent dinginess. You looked around in the low din. The bartender, a woman named Lucy, dried several glasses and stacked them on a shelf and every man in the place wore leather. 

You found Melissa’s daughter next to Bucky as he squinted at his closest accomplice, Steve. The shy girl from the bakery was tucked under his arm as she picked at the hem of her short skirt. You cleared your throat as you pondered leaving.

A figure on Bucky’s other side stood and you frowned as that man, Thor, smiled at you like a puppy. You fixed your mouth into a straight line as Bucky’s girl rose and waved you over.

“Hey, you made it,” she said. You didn’t miss the way Bucky’s hand slid up her thigh.

“Yeah,” you said flatly as you rounded the table.

“Kitten,” Thor greeted as he pulled out the chair next to him in a flourish. “I’ve a seat just for you.”

You looked from the chair to his face. You made no move to sit.

“If that’s not to your tastes, you can sit in my lap.” He taunted.

Your lips parted in disgust and you grabbed the back of the chair. You wrenched it away from him and backed up steadily as you dragged it around the table. You stopped it next to Steve’s girl and unzipped your jacket. You sat and shrugged out of the coat then crossed your arms. You tore your eyes from the large man and smiled at the baker girl.

“The banana loaf was good,” you said. “Sorry I didn’t make it down.”

“Oh, it’s ugly out there,” she turned in Steve’s hold and his arm slipped down around her waist. 

You could feel Thor’s constant gaze as you humoured the girl about the weather and listened to her story about how Mrs. Deeton sent back a blueberry scone for not having any blackberries. You did your best to blot out the rest of the bar.

“Kitten, you want a drink?” He interrupted and you peered over at him. You glanced from him to Lucy as she stood and awaited an order.

“Do you have ginger ale?” You asked her directly.

“We have club soda or iced tea right now.” She said with venom.

“Iced tea, thank you.” You fished through your purse for a fiver.

“Put it on my tab,” Thor insisted.

“No, it’s fine, I--”

You held out the bill and he reached across to snatch it from your hand. “On my tab.” He repeated and the barmaid stomped away. He tossed the five back to you and smirked. “Keep it, kitten.”

You swiped it up and turned back to Steve’s girl. She looked frightened as she stared at the blonde man and slowly returned her attention to you.

“Um, so, I was going to tell you the secret ingredient to Bab’s banana bread but you have to promise not to tell.”

“Sure,” you leaned in and she whispered it in your ear and giggled. 

“I’m not supposed to tell.” She uttered as she touched her cheeks guiltily.

“I’ve been telling her she don’t need to worry about rules,” Steve intoned as his fingers danced on her hip.

“My mother made the best banana cream pie,” Thor interrupted. “She handed the recipe down to me. My sister was never much into sweets.”

“Oh?” Steve’s girl turned to Thor. “We don’t serve that at Bab’s but we have lemon meringue.”

“Mother made that too. She showed me the trick to perfect peaks. I could show you.”

Steve growled and pulled his girl closer. She looked at him as he sent a heated glare at Thor. She touched his chest and cooed at him to relax. Lucy returned with your iced tea and you took it eagerly as the tension burned at your face.

“So, kitten,” Thor scooted his chair around the table as you set your glass down, “what trouble did you get into today?”

“I work at a library.” You uttered dryly.

“And did you enjoy your wine last night? I always heard it’s better with company.”

You jutted out your jaw in annoyance and looked at him. He was painfully persistent.

“Excuse me.” You stood and nearly gave him a face full of your chest. You looked to Bucky’s girl as she listened to his incessant grumbles. “Where’s the restroom?”

“Just down there,” she pointed along the far side of the bar.

“I could show you,” Thor offered and you waved him off.

“I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”

“Yes, you are,” he purred and you backed up as his eyes grazed your hips.

You were all too eager to hide in the bathroom and closed yourself in a stall as you tried not to scream. You had dealt with perverts before. Often you were the butt of some joke. The wingman settled for the chubby girl so his pal could get laid. Those types thought you were desperate and had no qualms with getting handsy on the dance floor. But college was long ago and Birch wasn’t known for its nightlife.

After a moment, you were able to steady yourself and you left the stall. You stood by the grungy sink and stared at the mirror. Why you? Why was this idiot bugging you?

You went back out with reluctant steps. You passed a drunk man at the bar talking about some feat of machismo in his foregone youth. As you neared the table, you froze in the spot as you listened.

“...she’s fat anyway.” Steve snarled and laughed meanly.

His chortle was curtailed as a chair scraped on the floor and the baker girl cried out. Thor forced Steve to his feet but the front of his tee shirt. He pulled him past his girl and brought him close as he growled down at him through flaring nostrils.

“I like you, Rogers, but your mouth makes it real hard.” Thor sneered.

“What the fuck?” Steve struggled against him, “let me go.”

��I’m not sitting here shit-talking your woman, eh. You might have little respect for them, but I do.”

“Jesus Christ!” Steve was on tip-toes as he was held up by the other man.

“Apologize.” Thor demanded.

“Wha--”

“Dammit, Steve, say sorry.” Bucky snapped.

“S-sorry, dude.” Steve stuttered.

“Not to me,” Thor turned and to your surprise, he thrust Steve around to face you. “To her.”

You stared in shock as Steve straightened his shirt. He was like a petulant child as he looked you in the eye. “I’m sorry.”

“For…” Thor prodded.

“I’m sorry I called you fat.” Steve looked away.

“I…” you didn’t know what to do or say as you glanced past him to the other girls. “Well, I am so it’s fine.”

Thor shoved Steve back and his thick brows drew together. “Don’t listen to him,” he said. “I like a little extra.”

“Hey,” Bucky’s girl interrupted as she stood suddenly, “the table’s free. How about I get Wanda and we can play some doubles, just us girls.” She touched Bucky’s shoulders, “leave the men to their business.”

Thor’s shoulders fell and he shook his head. He grinned at you even as his disappointment shone through.

“Sure,” you answered as you stepped around him. “Sounds fun.”

💀

You focused on the felt. It didn’t help block out the blazing heat of Thor’s leer. You refused to look over at him and instead pretended to be enthralled with the game of solids and stripes. 

When you were a kid, you went to the youth centre and played with the rest of the kids desperate for a distraction. In uni, you enjoyed your plastic cups of cheap sambuca and coke at the campus bar and chalked up the cues. You were no expert but you could hit a good shot now and again. Your mother used to recount tales of her hustler father. Maybe it was his blood that kept your hand steady.

The other girls played as a pair as you handed off to Wanda. She wore the cut of the Birch’s club and her dark lipstick was the same shade as the leather. You saw her now and again with the men. She smoked her cigarettes out front and watched the town with indifference.

Wanda took her shot and clicked her tongue as she scratched. You shook your head as Steve’s girl scrunched her nose at the table. You were even; three stripes and three solids. She went around the far corner and awkwardly positioned herself over the side. She reached back to tug down her short skirt, she was clearly uncomfortable in the revealing outfit.

She sunk her mark but her next stopped short of the pocket. She shook her head and apologized to Steve’s girl who assured her with a pat on the shoulder. You took the cue from Wanda and walked around the table. You walked back and wondered if you could sink two in one. It was a possible angle but could you hit it?

You tilted your head and sighed. You bent and brought your foot back as you squinted and carefully positioned the cue. You couldn’t decide whether you should try to spin it to the right or hit it straight on. You knew the power you needed but you couldn’t afford to hit a stripe.

You almost tapped the cue ball as you felt a warmth over you and suddenly a hard torso was against your back. You went rigid as Thor bent over you and put his hands over your as he adjusted your aim. His hot breath wrapped around your neck.

“Almost, kitten,” he pushed his crotch against your ass.

You pulled the cue back so that it hit his ribs and he grunted as his hands fell to the edge of the table. You took the shot and pushed out of his grasp. His hand dragged over your ass as he stood straight and touched his side with a wince. 

“I got it.” You said as both balls rolled and dropped into opposite pockets.

He chuckled and bit his lip. It was almost a snarl as he watched you across the table and you sensed the bated breaths of the other women.

“I like a woman with a firm grip,” he winked, “And confidence.”

You looked back to the table as he loomed on the other side. You sunk the last solid and lined up for the eight ball. A straight, easy shot that even the most amateur could get. You ended the game and Wanda clapped as the other girls grumbled their congratulations.

“Best out of three?” Steve’s girl asked.

“I’m sorry to disappoint but I have to work early.” You leaned the cue on the table. “I showed up and now I’m done. It was fun, girls, but I’m gonna turn in.”

You smiled at each of them and your face fell as you passed them and went to grab your coat from the chair where it still hung. Thor was less than subtle as he followed you to the table and watched you zip up your coat over your chest. You slung your purse over your arm and pulled your hat on as you braced for the chill that awaited you.

“You shouldn’t walk alone.” Thor intoned.

“It’s a small town. I’m fine.” You spun away and again, he followed.

At the door, you turned back and crossed your arms. “Look, I can handle myself, buddy. Now leave me alone.”

“I’m just being nice.”

“You’re being a pest.”

“You love it.”

You huffed and closed your eyes to keep them from rolling back into your skull. You looked at him again and bit down on your words. “Do you ever give up?”

“On you, never.” He grinned.

“Well, be a good dog and stay.” You jabbed your finger in the air. “Stay!” You repeated as if he was a hyper dog. “Good.”

You quickly slipped through the door and booked it across the street. The door didn’t hit the frame but was instead caught as his boots scuffed out behind you. You peered back as you reached the other side and kept up your steady jog. He watched you but did not give chase.

“I’ll sniff you out one day, kitten,” he called out. “Pussy, pussy, pussy.”

[natache]

Ita Rina

First and Forgotten Yugoslav Film Star who provocated Gestapo

Ita Rina was born on 7 July 1907 in the small town of Divača (then Austro-Hungarian Empire, later Yugoslavia, now Slovenia) as Italina Lida Kravanja. She was called Ida Kravanja for short. She was named after a journalist Finzi Haydée, Jewish family friend from Trieste. The first daughter of Jožef a railroad worker and Marija Kravanja, Rina had a younger sister Danica. Shortly after the outbreak of the World War I, the family moved to Ljubljana, where Rina matriculated in 1923. She was not a good student; she repeated the third grade of elementary school. However, her dream was to be an actress.

In October 1926, Slovenski narod (Slovenian People) magazine organized a beauty pageant, and Rina entered the competition. She was crowned Miss Slovenia and was to travel to the final event for Miss Yugoslavia, which was supposed to be held on 20 December 1926 in Zagreb. However, her mother did not want to let her go to Zagreb. After a group visit from the Slovenian delegation, Marija Kravanja relented. Unfortunately, when Rina arrived in Zagreb, the jury was already choosing the most beautiful of three finalists. She was, however, noticed by Adolf Müller, the owner of Balkan Palace cinema in Zagreb. He immediately sent her photographs to German film producer Peter Ostermayer. As her mother did not want to let her go to Berlin, Rina ran away from home.

Her escape was enabled by a family friend, a painter Alojz Malota and his wife Hedvig Šarc. They invited her to come with them on a trip to Austria, and instead she went to Berlin. She has said that she felt very lonely and scared during the train ride and thought about returning home.

“That was my longest and hardest journey. I huddled myself in a corner of a coupe and looked around myself in fear. I only knew few words in German...”

Rina arrived in Berlin in 1927. Shortly after she had her first audition, following which she had classes in acting, diction, dancing.

"They would shine a spotlight on me" she later said "cameras would buzz. There were cables everywhere. Some complete strangers would stare at me, whispering amongst themselves. They told me to scream, to laugh, wave and cry. I think I looked most natural in scenes where I was crying. All I had to do was remember how far away from home I've gone and how I've deceived my mother."

"You don't know how to walk!" a director was yelling. I've dedicated all my strength on walking as gracefully as possible, and I thought to myself "how's it possible that I, who have climbed Triglav thrice, all of sudden am incapable of walking." I must admit, first few steps on film were harder than any danger definitely mountaineering.

After several small film roles in 1927 and 1928, the critics finally noticed her in the 1928 film The Last Supper. The same year, Rina met at a Yugoslav embassy party, her future husband Miodrag Đorđević, a shy engineering student from Belgrade, son of a general director of the Royal Post Office.

He asked her out to dinner in a little more upscale restaurant. What he would find out later is that his students account was not enough to pay for the meal. He went to the phone in an attempted to call a friend who could lend him money. Ita figured out what was going on, and since she was already rich, secretly passed him a few bank notes, to spare him the embarrassment. She always liked him, and they understood each other well.

 

Around that time newspapers in Yugoslavia started to sensationalize her love life, as a counter she published an open letter.

Cenjeni g. urednik!

Vsikdar sem bila ljubeznjiva napram g. dopisniku Vašega lista. Želela sem na ta način izražati simpatije, ki sem jih gojila do “Vremena”. Toda nežentlementski dopis Vašega dopisnika od 15. t. m. je zlorabil to mojo ljubeznivost in me prisilil, da Vas naprošam zaradi istine za uvrstitev naslednjih vrstic: Prišla sem domov na oddih, da se pripravim za bodoče delo, ne pa da se zaljubljam kakor goska. Zaradi tega ne potrebujem nikakih senzacij, zlasti pa ne senzacij, ki gredo preko meja dopustnega. Čudim se prostosti, ki si jo jemlje g. Ambrož, da izmišlja kar imena mojih idealov. Prava senzacija bi bila šele, ko bi g. Ambrož nekoliko srečneje uganil moje ideale. Kar pa piše g. Ambrož, je bilo doslej meni in vsem mojim znancem docela neznano. Odpotovala bom tedaj, ko me pokliče novo delo. Senzacijonalni odhod avtomobilov itd. je prosta glupost. 

Da končam. Žal mi je, da se je edini g. O. Ambrož smatral za najpametnejšega od vseh tukajšnjih novinarjev in da je segel po tako nehvaležnem poslu. Naši javnosti je treba servirati resnico o mojem delu in moji osebi, ne pa glupih izmišljotin. Prejmite g. urednik izraze itd.

Ita Rina.

Her breakthrough into European stardom came after taking a role in a controversial film Erotikon by a Czechoslovakian director Gustav Mahaty. As soon as she read the script about a seduced and then abandoned daughter of a guard of a railroad station, she understood it as her big chance, and she was right.

Erotikon premiered in Prague. Czechoslovakian censors cut out the scene of her giving birth to a child, but the movie garnered great success with film critics and audiences across Europe. At the premiere in Paris in Moulin Rouge and the film goers carried her out of the theatre on their hands.

The films success angered the puritans. Especially the french catholic theologian, abbot Betteleme who wrote: "... First, they lie next to each other, and then one to another ... It is true that the cover hides their figures, but it certainly does not hide their movements... The protagonists are shown in particularly long shots, especially Ita... A viewer can recognize her excitement, then her expression of anxiety mixed with longing, then the pain and at the end... I blush while describing the scenes". He went though streets of Paris tearing down the posters that were plastered all over. That only raised the popularity of the film.

In 1930, Rina acted in three films, most notable being the first talking Czechoslovakian film Tonka of the Gallows, which is often named her best role. Meanwhile, she married Miodrag Đorđević in 1931. Although she had announced her retirement from her film career, but she actually continued her acting until the outbreak of World War II. Her last prewar film was crime drama Zentrale Rio.

The situation in Germany was getting tense, especially for anybody who was considered undesirable which included actors who were foreign. She left Germany on the insistence of the then ambassador of Yugoslavia Ivo Andrić. In 1939, very close to the start of WW2 every time she went to work or went home, there was a man who sat in the car. In the beginning he was very quiet and she thought he was an assistant of the producer and that he might represent some new custume, a way of saying thanks to the actors. And then he spoke. At first there were talks of the superiority of the German race, but later his changes because more apparent. "I argued with him in that car" she told to the operator in the studio and retold him the whole conversation. "How could you have dared, that man is from Gestapo." said the operator. The story was retold to Ivo Andrić, and he ordered her and her husband to urgently leave Germany. The taping of the film was mostly done. That night they packed all of their belongs. In the morning she taped a few leftover scenes and absconded for Belgrade that same day.

"Only on the road I understood what's going on. Tanks everywhere, soldiers."

They went to live in Belgrade. She didn't act as the war was starting to rage and had her first child Milan in 1940 and thee years later a daughter Tijana. Her in-laws disagreed with the marriage to a controversial actress at first. And they had a permanent table for themselves and their friends at the local tavern.

After the bombing of Belgrade they moved to Vrnjačka Banja. Life during wartime was hard and she laboured and sold all of her possessions to keep family fed. She even rescued her husband from jail where he landed after he, in a tavern proclaimed that Hitler will have the same fate Napoleon did in Russia.

They moved back to Belgrade after the end of World War II in 1945. Although she was promised several roles in Yugoslav films, all projects were cancelled and she was treated unfavorably. After receipt of a letter she had written to President Tito, Rina began working as a co–production advisor in Avala Film. But she soon left Avala Film and moved to Lovćen Film.

She returned to the silver screen once, in the 1960 film War, about nuclear war fallout, directed by Veljko Bulajić. This was her last role. She got her role not though a studio, but through her husband asking nicely.

“Before the shooting of the film War began, I was approached by a very likable gentleman, that was the husband of Mrs. Ita Rine Miodrag, and in a very discreet, shy way, asked if we can talk and during that conversation, suggested to cast Ita. Honestly speaking, I have already completely forgotten about her. There was war, and they she didn't work for a very long time. She wasn't listed anywhere in cinematography as an active actress. I remembered her from her films. I suggested we meet. So we met, I don't know where in Zagreb or Belgrade, I cannot remember, but she impressed me. She made a strong impression, of a smart woman, an actress who didn't want to be in a film for no other reason, but to be filmed. She wanted to know about her role. I really liked that, so we made a deal.” 

As she suffered from asthma, Rina and her husband moved to Budva (then Yugoslavia, now Montenegro) in 1967. There, she took care of her husband, who was ill with sclerosis. Rina died on 10 May 1979 from an asthmatic attack during the great earthquake that leveled the capital of Montenegro. She was buried a few days later in Belgrade, in the presence of numerous film artists, admirers, friends and family. Her husband died next year.

Best source is in Slovene here:

[uwua3]

if it's ok 😳👉👈 i really love your writing and i've had this idea in my head for awhile but i can't get myself to write it on my own 🤔 i wanted to see how your spin would be on it- so can i request a prompt where reader gets jealous of tenma's co-actress in a romance and tries to mimic what she does to him in a show they're in?? ty!!! 💕💕💕 i look forward to your interpretation

thank you so much for requesting~ ♡ i love you sososo much; i hope this lives up to everything you’ve dreamed of! ♡ ～('▽^人) i LOVE YOU!!! <333

summary: when tenma lands a role in your favorite drama, he had one goal: to become your favorite actor

warnings: envy/jealousy, food mentions, rivalry (all covered briefly!)

author’s note: after learning everything there is to know about the k-drama, true beauty, on tik tok, i’ve decided to write this! for context, the only thing i recommend watching before reading this is watching the “roar” scene!

this is also the first time i’ve introduced made-up characters with names! please enjoy jun, the first character who isn’t canon to the a3!verse :D

word count: 3,768

music: like a movie – b1a4

pretty u!

🌻☀️ sumeragi tenma

what the heck was love, and why did he have to be in it?

sumeragi tenma, future “world’s best actor”, was suddenly... seeing why he hadn’t won that award yet. with a script in his hand and confusion in another, tenma read the title of the next drama he landed the role for

“PRETTY U...” it was japan’s next major love story, advertised on every social media platform possible with the all-star cast in the spotlight already. although it had already been out for a season, tenma was entering as the up-and-coming newest character of the series

tenma was boyish, young, and much too confident for his age—perfect for the role of a second-lead bad boy who was going to steal the heart and test the protagonist’s commitment

except... he didn’t actually want to take up a new project so soon. he only did because—

“what?! you’re going to be chan on PRETTY U?!” he proudly nodded and watched as you began ranting about how much you loved this show. there was only one reason he came to the audition: tenma wanted to star in your favorite television series

you always went on and on about how great everything about PRETTY U was. after hearing so much and pretending not to listen (even if he could practically explain the entire plotline now without watching it), tenma let himself become a fan, too

after all, how could he not be a fan when you loved PRETTY U so much?

tenma didn’t respond to his manager’s pleas until one day, you revealed another reason why PRETTY U was your favorite production: the main lead

“he’s so handsome~ i love him so much!” “do you know him? could you get me his number?” “look at him... he’s the most perfect actor in the business right now—ah, sorry ten!”

tenma scoffed every time, claiming he could most certainly do better than that hotshot. although the boys typically didn’t do the same type of television, he had become tenma’s #1 rival without even knowing it

besides... what did that guy have that tenma didn’t? he was just nice! sure, he held open the door for the lead, bent down to tie her shoes, bended over backwards just to be the perfect boy-next-door. yeah... even he couldn’t pretend anymore

tenma pouted at the thought, skimming over his next pilot episode for rehearsal tomorrow. he was too good to be real, after all, he was meant to end up with the lead girl anyways (spoiler alert!)

but, it didn’t matter how perfect that actor was! because tenma had gotten the role of “chan”, the leather-jacket wearing mystery with an actual heart of gold, and he was going to make the entire audience swoon

(though, tenma just wanted to make your heart skip a beat when he ended up on the big screen)

tenma would never admit how fast he checked his phone when he felt it buzz in his pocket. sure, it was unprofessional during rehearsal but he knew it was you. however, his smile dropped the moment he read what you sent

you: remember to tell him how much i love him!

tenma: hah... no good luck for your new bad boy?

you: you know i’ll always root for you, ten!

tenma: but, i’m better than that actor, right?

tenma watched his message get delivered and was about to keep bothering you until someone called his name like they were friends. speak of the devil...

that actor’s straight, white toothy smile made tenma stand a little straighter (damn it, tenma was shorter), eyes wide as the actor gracefully introduced himself as his co-star for the next month or so (how did his voice sound even better in person?!)

“good morning, tenma! my name is jun, i’m so honored to meet a fellow actor on set! let’s work together well!” were they... really the same age? tenma barely registered the fact he was suddenly shaking jun’s (right, that’s his name) hand. why did he have such a manly grip?

tenma quickly (to his dismay) found out that him & jun had entered the industry around the same time but often had different projects, so they were never featured in the same production before. apparently, that was creating quite a buzz in the media that two childhood stars were competing against one another

a competition that tenma couldn’t lose. he was going to be your favorite actor, not his rival!

jun, like the perfect gentleman everyone described him to be, showed tenma around the PRETTY U set. jun had nothing but good things to say about the crew and vise versa. that only reinforced how tenma was oddly much more quiet than he usually was. luckily, one of the talents of being an actor was improvising, so jun was doing just fine

when they had reached the dressing rooms, jun shot a bright smile at tenma and gestured to the rather large room

“we’ll be sharing a dressing room together, tenma! we’ll be spending a lot of time together!”

tenma suddenly regretted his decision to become chan of PRETTY U. you couldn’t have had a different favorite show?! anything but... this

there were now three main characters for PRETTY U: hoshi, yuri, and chan, creating a love triangle for millions of viewers to watch every week

nakamura jun, leading role, played “hoshi”, the boy-next-door. this is the popular boy at school with the best grades and an even greater reputation amongst everyone. next, uedo ren, one of japan’s rising female actresses of this generation. she is adored as “yuri”, the perfect girl. she is the typical nerd who suddenly transformed into the prettiest girl at school from learning make-up

last (but definitely not least!) is sumeragi tenma, playing “chan”, the bad boy. it was nothing like tenma’s done before, since the character was much less expressive than he was used to. chan is a traditional rebel who is revealed to have a soft side for yuri. but, chan (ironically enough) has a secret history with hoshi, causing tension in this already confusing love triangle

(embarrassingly enough, jun had to explain to tenma the complications and ties between each character. tenma, unfortunately, found it to be extremely helpful)

even with this newfound knowledge of the characters in season 2, tenma couldn’t help but absolutely ruin the first day of rehearsals. even with a decade or so of acting as his experience, one thing kept him from being chan: his lack of chemistry with “yuri”

“cut!” the director called out again for the nth time, sighing as their eyes landed on tenma, who was not enjoying being the center of attention this time, surprisingly

“take 5, kid. once you come back, i expect you to actually go through this scene without messing up your lines.” tenma nodded and exited quickly, feeling flustered from the looks of sympathy directed his way. usually, it was one-and-done. it didn’t take a hundred tries just to do another romantic and cliché scene

tenma exhaled loudly once he felt the fresh air upon his face. without the fear of cameras in his face anymore, tenma ran his hand through his hair with a frustrated kick at the concrete. come on! he was renown child actor sumeragi tenma, why was he so in his head now?

tenma was about to yell into the sky before he heard someone close the door, standing beside him with their usual silence. tenma didn’t even have to look to know it was jun (probably with the most pitiful look ever)

“tenma? are you okay?” jun waited as tenma tried to not say anything he’d regret, shifting his weight on his foot back and forth before relenting, shrugging as if it couldn’t be helped

“i don’t know... i just, i can’t see yuri that way. how am i supposed to flirt with someone i don’t even like?”

jun pondered the thought for a moment, before tilting his head, a boyish smile overtaking his features. tenma unwillingly relaxed; jun finally looked his age

“who do you like then?”

tenma froze, a blush even foundation couldn’t hide blossoming on his cheeks. jun let out a teasing “oooh!” as he nudged tenma with his shoulder, who pushed back with an eye-roll

“i-it’s not like that! don’t be so—ugh!” tenma cut himself off, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding jun’s knowing eyes. damn it, they barely knew each other. why was he getting so comfortable with his enemy?!

“well, whoever you thought of, imagine yuri as them.”

“is that what you do?”

jun shrugged, not giving a clear answer for once. before tenma could ask for more information, their break was over

when tenma returned to the scene, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. when he opened them again, he watched as yuri transformed into the one person he’s been trying to impress this entire time: you

when “you” smiled, tenma couldn’t help but follow along. his first-take after break made the cut for the final product

“you must really like them, tenma~” — “stop!!!”

filiming afterwards became easy, especially when he imagined all his romantic words were directed towards you. he could feel the clamminess of his hands, the rapid beat of his heart, the intense blush across his face, all at the thought of you

(the only time he had to start over was when he accidentally said your name instead of yuri’s)

tenma was sure he’d become your favorite actor now! after all, you were his favorite person

“will you watch the first episode of PRETTY U’s season 2 with me?”

you had never said yes so fast in your entire life. when tenma learned there’d be a cast-viewing of episode 1 after finishing the season, he knew his +1 invite could only go to the biggest fan of the show

throughout filming, you were always the person who got him in trouble when the text tone wasn’t put on silent. you liked spamming tenma with a bunch of supportive and encouraging messages when you were available, meaning tenma always had something to look forward to after each scene

in return, tenma would send a selfie of him with his castmates or the set (or, what he was allowed to show under his contract). yet, despite your constant pleas, there was one co-star he’d never take a photograph with: jun

(“tenma! we’ve worked together for months~ shouldn’t i be called your friend now?” “no—” “huh?! don’t pretend you don’t like me!” “who said i was pretending?” “tenma!”)

at first, tenma was apprehensive about inviting you to an event where jun’s picture-perfect face would be on display everywhere. but, whenever he saw you, the weight of the tickets suddenly felt much heavier in his pocket. he couldn’t deprieve you of such an exclusive event just because of his jealousy (even if he was this close to doing so)

when tenma impulsively asked three days before, it felt worth it when you threw your arms around him (he hugged you back and pretended this meant something to you)

“i love you, ten!”

tenma felt like he was on set again, with yuri’s arms tightly holding onto his heart

“i love you, too.”

even after saying it so many times, tenma meant it even if he didn’t say it to your face every time

you looked like the star of the show

tenma fixed his tie as his blazer suddenly felt too tight. you appeared in your most formal attire, looking like a million bucks as you two sat across each other in the limo

“ten, look at all of this!” you pointed out every little thing of preparing for a professional event. the little glasses of champagne neither of you two could drink sat to the side as the leather seats molded to fit your posture. as the night lights of tokyo blurred by, tenma couldn’t help but think you sparkled more than this diamond of a city

“i can’t wait to go see the first episode! thank you for inviting me.” you bowed your head, as if suddenly overcome with gratefulness. tenma lightly kicked your shoe with his, fondly rolling his eyes as he tried not to smile (mission failed)

“don’t worry about it, who else would i bring? you’re my favorite pe—friend. friend, yeah...” tenma trailed off, suddenly finding something very interesting outside of the window. you only nodded, seemingly more interested in the fact there was enough room to walk around

when tenma caught sight of the infamous red carpet laid out in front of the theatre, he cleared his throat and put on his best face for the cameras. after stepping out of the car with his bodyguards nearby, tenma turned and gave you a genuine smile. not his typical arrogant smirk the news source ate up, but a type of smile only reserved for you

when he held out his hand, the flashing lights behind him seemed like a real celebrity, something you had never considered him to be before. it was like seeing tenma in a new light (both literally and figuratively)

“shall we?” you took his hand and wondered if you could ever have your own j-drama. perhaps, tenma could even be the main lead...

before you could step off to the side, tenma already had his arm wrapped around your waist with his unchanging expression (however, underneath it all, he was internally freaking out. what was he going to do now?!)

“you’re my date, right? walk the red carpet with me.” tenma winked (you swore it sparkled) as he gestured towards the carpet ahead. suddenly, the line seemed much longer

“t-ten... you’ve never brought a date before...” you mumbled, acutely aware of how soon it was to walk down together. tenma’s arm stiffened, but nothing else exposed the revelation as he looked down at you

“you’re my first, then.” and my last, tenma thought to himself. before you could change your mind, it was showtime. tenma put on his movie star face and introduced you to familiar interviewers, smiling away as if you two weren’t panicking on the inside

while you were focusing on the fact you were going to be going viral as tenma’s first “date” to the event, tenma was trying not to blush from how close you were. you felt... right besides him

tenma was a natural in front of an audience waiting for him to make a mistake. he flawlessly answered every question with swaggering confidence, his stride easy and poses photogenic

you did your best to follow his lead but it all ended when tenma took you into the theatre, staring down at you with a bright smile

“we did it! see, told you we’d be just fine.” tenma let out an exhale of relief, glowing with joy from the adrenaline of everything that came with being a superstar. as you looked up into his excited eyes, you saw him lean down before—

“your arm is still around me.”

silence, then a hurried separation as tenma put too many feet between you two. it was suddenly as if you two were strangers. you regretted the words the moment they left your mouth; you didn’t mind at all... why did you say something?!

“um... so, food?” tenma spoke up after an eternity of making excuses. you two quickly moved to the line of movie snacks, using candy and popcorn to substitue the suddenly awkward silence

when tenma ordered all your favorites without even asking, he turned around with the selection only to close his eyes and internalize every single thing he was feeling because there he was, his worst enemy

jun entered from a side door, most likely finishing up helping the crew with set-up (and 30 minutes early as usual) before catching tenma’s iconic bright orange hair, a grin lighting up his face

“tenma! it’s me, jun!” he said, as if they weren’t the two main leads of japan’s most famous drama so far. immediately, your smile matched jun’s as you watched as your favorite actor of all time make his way towards you two

“jun... of course you’d be here.” tenma said through gritted teeth, forcing a pleasant smile even with an armful of junk

“ah, still keeping the bad boy attitude? we’re off set now, you can stop method acting now.” jun joked, bringing his attention to you with a dazzling smile that would absolutely make any fansite’s career

“oh? who is this, a friend of yours?” tenma tried not to sigh so loud when you couldn’t help yourself and burst into a long rant about how amazing jun was. tenma waited until you reached your midpoint and stopped you with a quick nudge, trying not to scream (could jun stop being so... perfect? could you stop being so cute?!)

when tenma introduced you, he stood a little closer as he tried to maintain his jealousy. “they’re my date, by the way.” no one had asked, but tenma was clearly telling anyone who was around you two had gone together

jun’s eyes lit up in recognition as he let out a noise of surprise. “ah~ so this is who you—”

tenma didn’t regret losing his giant popcorn so fast to a co-star who could only be silenced with food. his wallet could afford another one, anyways. his pride on the other hand? could not let you know his acting secret already

“what was jun going to say?” you asked after you two departed for the viewing room. tenma nonchalantly pretended like everything was okay as he guided you to front row

“probably something about the fact you’re the one who always interrupts our scenes.”

“hey! my texts make your day, don’t lie!”

“go sit down and eat already, jeez.”

when it began, your eyes couldn’t leave the screen. it was better than you could have imagined. everything was perfect, it exceeded the standards of even the toughest fans out there. you loved every second of it... except...

tenma was too good at being chan. even with his bright hair, the dark clothes he wore made him appear intimidating, with his sharp eyes and even sharper smirk. chan’s appearance was tough, rough, and mean, everything tenma wasn’t

yet, you still couldn’t help but feel your heart sink when chan was clearly in love with yuri. yuri was one of your favorite characters by far, but she ended up bothering you for the entireity of the episode

especially every time she shared a scene (which were many times) with chan. chan was revealed to be a bad boy with a heart of gold, all with a special soft side for yuri

what was this feeling? were you... no, you couldn’t be! after all, you had never seen tenma that way before, right? yet, every time chan made an exception for yuri, you felt sick to your stomach

was it possible that tenma liked the actress who played yuri? you snuck a glance at tenma, only to see he was looking at you already (he’d never admit it, but he was watching your reactions to see if he made you proud. yet, every time you saw him, you subconsciously frowned)

were you not proud of him? did you not like his performance as chan?

before tenma could ask you, the scene changed into one of chan’s. he was standing outside in the school uniform, his head ducked as he swiped through yuri’s social media. before he could look up, yuri jumped in front of him with a teasing smile

“roar!” she called out, referring to their inside joke earlier in the episode. yuri cutely bounced back with another roar, holding her hands up like paws. chan watched, his typical rock-hard expression breaking to reveal his developing feelings for yuri

later on, chan stopped yuri in the hallway, other students watching as the school’s bad boy and goddess interact

“do that again.” chan demanded to which yuri innocently tilted her head, confused like a little puppy. “do what?” “that... that thing.” when chan roared, tenma sunk into his seat with an embarrassed defense and explanation ready. but, when he looked, you finally cracked a laugh at his little roar

your smile only fell when yuri roared again as a joke, but chan smiled for once. tenma wondered why... he thought you would be so happy to be here with him. maybe, he’d never be better than jun...

when the episode ended, it took a moment before you stood up and clapped. tenma followed along, but all he could think about was how he let you down. not only as chan, but as your boy, too

when you two left the room, you two hung back to watch as everyone congratulated one another on the success of the production. in the midst of the cheer and celebration, tenma felt small as he watched your blank expression

what did he do wrong? he put his best efforts into every scene; he might even say it was his best work yet. before he could apologize, you did the unthinkable: you roared

you jumped up into his face, holding your hands up like yuri did. when yuri did it, tenma didn’t feel a thing. but, when you did, tenma felt it. the butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he stared at you, frozen in place

“this is the part where you ask me to do it again.” you shyly trailed off, about to put your hands down before tenma weakly put his hands up, knowing he was about to regret his next move (if the embarrassment didn’t kill him, he didn’t know what would)

“roar!”

that was too loud, wasn’t it? the room suddenly went a lot more quiet as they turned their attention towards a teen actor roaring at his date

“yah! why didn’t you ask me the next line?”

“b-because... i know i like you even without you doing, that, again.”

you paused, taken back by his honesty. as tenma contemplated just falling onto the floor right then and there, you suddenly hardened your expression, standing up straighter with your arms crossed

“do that again.”

“do what?”

“that thing.”

when tenma roared again, much quieter this time, you nodded as you finally smiled genuinely for the first time ever since that episode started

“good, i know how chan feels now. i like you, too.”

“does that mean i’m your favorite actor now?”

(when jun released a video of tenma roaring online, he captioned it with “ROAR = ILY!!!” tenma realized maybe he wasn’t all that bad, but still)

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

It’s The Avengers (03x15)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 3 Episode 15: Not All Rainbows

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline   Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: did someone just go and tell the otp about the otp?

Word Count: you know that feeling when you have had a bad experience on some project or assignment or homework before. And you know that thing is going to come around again next month or something like that. And you just age yourself by giving yourself anxiety by thinking everything that could go worse in that area. Yeah. So, I kinda shut that off for a few hours and wrote this.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

An ice pack sits partially on the sofa’s arm and partially on the head that is being knocked softly- but repeatedly- by its designated owner. The fist taps that forehead with the vigour of a dedicated hammer that is softly checking the tensile strength of its mettle. The second camera takes the liberty to zoom in on Tony’s face that has the tension the size of the Alps looming over his head. Other spectators sit around, going about their activities with their five senses while the sixth was stuck on Tony. One camera panned on Wanda’s figure standing in the kitchenette, stirring her coffee cautiously, locking eyes with the lens.

Wanda: Only if you could see the monstrous cloud looming over his head. *stretches the corner of her lips* It’s made less of anger and more of worry and embarrassment. *blinks and furrows her brows* And choco-chip ice cream for some reason. *shrugs* Though I'm just glad that nothing was broken or smashed today. *stops midway* *raises her index finger* Although...

Scott: *glows inside out with a big smile stuck on his red face* *swings from side to side in the chair* Huh? What? *shakes head* Nothing. Just *inhales* I'm worried about Tony *continues to smile*

"So-" Steve took the first step and everyone held their breath- "now we know why we weren't able to reach Carol before. She is clearly...kinda...sorta stuck right where Y/N and Loki are? I think the kids are safe now." "Oh? The kids are safe? I must have missed the scene where they returned home with another weird pet," Tony remarked monotonously with his eyes still closed. Peter leaned in towards Scott. "So Loki is one of the 'kids' now." Both the shippers fist-bumped discreetly before looking all serious. The camera swivelled right towards Wanda, who shared a look of bewilderment while pointing at the joy of the shippers who were clearly not reading Tony's wavelength. And Tony was not the only one on the wavelength. There in the corner on the dining table, Clint sat lost in some thought so deep that his resting face was now a resting bitch face while he dipped his arrows in tiny bottles- the purpose of which only he knew- and handled them like his own babies. "You still have to find a way to stab him with these," Natasha was quick to mention as she walked towards her friend and sat opposite him. "Oh, I'll find a way. I was in his head too, remember," Clint pointed out. "He completely underestimates me." "Hmm," she scrunched her nose, "just remove that itch-like thing on your neck before you go after him though." "Where?" He asked as he scratched the side of his neck with the end of his arrow, his furrowed brows suddenly releasing themselves at the dawn of realisation before disappearing from the camera frame to fall down from the seat with a thud. "Told you not to wipe both ends with the same cloth," she muttered while wistfully looking down at an unconscious Hawkeye.

That One Steamy Dungeon™ No one knew how, when or why Lulu was sitting there in Carol's lap like he knew her for ages. No one knew why Carol was stroking him with the back of her fingers while her eyes were stuck on you like two magnetic poles finding that one direction and sticking to it. And you genuinely did not know why you could not stop looking at Carol. All of Carol Danvers. Especially her lips. "What?" Carol finally dismissed the silence with one casual word. "Ag-sa-wuu-you're looking beautiful," was what you came up with. Loki stared at Lulu's camera with one long blink of...slowed surprise. The buzzing camera caught all three of you sitting in the returning silence over dried hay, looking at each other before you scooched down a little to hide the embarrassment visible over your face.

You: *whisper* W-well, she does look pretty despite all the dirt she's lying in. I mean *violently points at Carol in the background* look at her!!! How can someone look sooooo fucking beautiful??? *lick your lips* Except for Loki of course. That dude is on a whole another level.

Carol threw a shirt over Loki's face from her backpack. "Weren't your looks enough this time?" "Wasn't your hairstyle enough this time?" came the retort. You sat there in the middle, your eyes moving between both of them to calculate this new chemistry you were seeing. The camera caught you pulling your legs closer to your chest. "I didn't know you two were so...close to each other."

Javier: *signing* Why? *Furrows his brows* does that make you furious, Y/N? *wiggles his brows up and down in question* Hmm? *zooms in on his face* Hmm? *turns the camera towards the screen from which he and Green are watching the live broadcast*

"Close? I met him on one mission and this punk would have been dead had I not saved his ass back then." Carol smirked through the sentence and you did not realise any time sooner that you were staring at her, your mouth almost at the edge of drooling. "You blew my cover," Loki stressed while putting on the grey free size shirt. "And then she had the audacity to make me pay for her bar bill on the next stop," he gasped while looking at you. Javier took the opportunity to make his drone zoom at your iris, catching your pupils dilate in 4K as soon as Loki started narrating the story to you while you nodded in enthusiasm. "You do realise your ex-girlfriend wants to cut off your new girlfriend's head right this moment, right?" Carol was generous to point out while getting up and wiping off all the dirt and hay. "I'm not his girlfriend." "She's not my ex-" Both of you had the synchronisation of an orchestra. Carol took this opportunity to let her eyes pass the judgment- which played from one face to another and back for sheer entertainment.

Carol: *shrugs* *runs her hand through her pixie cut hair* Priorities, I guess. *nods*

"Anyways," Loki tried to cut this weird air surrounding the three of them that apparently Lulu was the only one enjoying, rubbing himself all around Carol's leg, "do you have a plan to get out of here?" "Of course," Carol simply jerked her shoulders, "punch my way through." You blinked at the camera.

You: Is that why they are called Captain? It has to be, right?

You shook your head and looked around in the ground, leaving Loki to do the bickering on your part as well. "Well, Miss one-punch woman, this time you are not the only one that needs to escape." You found a stick in the corner. It seemed to be made of the same ashen wood that Aellae sat on in her throne room. "We have tiny mortals to save too." Carol chuckled. You raised the stick your eye level, feeling the weight in your hands when suddenly your eyes grow wide and your mouth turns into a horror-filled 'O' "What? Where is the comedy?" A violent grunt came from your lungs, turning both Carol and Loki into attack and defence mode in your direction. Lulu's camera caught you taking the stick out of the orc's stomach. The dull creature blankly looked at the blood turning into sparks flying against the gravity before slowly consuming the whole creature, taking him with them. The next twenty seconds were a pause on every breath. You finally turned around, the stick still in your hand. "Did I kill him?" you asked in a whisper. Loki and Carol shared a glance. "It was just a bruise" Loki shoved your concern away with his hands. "He's in heaven now," Carol sang. "He was a bad guy, right?" "Yes," both of them nearly shouted. "It's good that he disappeared. You helped the universe get rid of a bad guy," Loki clapped his hands before give you an awkward thumbs up. You blinked at both of them. The smile eroding on your lips slowly turned the duo uncomfortable. "Good." Was all you said for your stature completely transformed. "Because that felt..."  you did not finish the sentence, clearly concerning your company. Well, Lulu seemed to like whatever vibes you were giving off. “Y/N,” Loki pretty much sang your name cautiously, slowly lifting his hands in the air to have a word with you to process whatever you were feeling. But you were already running outside with the most suspicious giggle the room had ever heard. Carol even shivered a bit to shake it off of her.

My daddy's got a gun My daddy's got a gun My daddy's got a gun You better run

The one buzzing drone in the hallway caught the slow-motion emotion of you walking into the hallway with the ash stick in your hand like a gun- locked and loaded- with something fierce burning in your eyes. Behind you Loki was trying to catch up with the adrenaline rush you were feeling, calling out your name to stop you. Carol was close behind, cheering you on as much as she could.

My daddy's got a gun My daddy's got a gun My daddy's got a gun Ga-ga-ga-ga-ga

The orcs didn’t even seek you out. One of the reasons was the fact that you were running towards them first, swinging your arms with as much force as your body allowed, screaming your lungs out and jumping with fueled excitement whenever they went up in flames. Loki had to take a moment out of those crucial seconds to look at you. To look at that animalistic look in your eyes. Pausing for a millisecond to consciously question whether to admire it or fear it, he almost smiled. He might have stood there for a few seconds more had he not felt the blue plasmic force run by his side to destroy the one orc aiming for you from your blindside.

It started with the hayloft a-creakin' Well, it just started in the hay (loft) With his longjohns on, pop went a-creeping Out to the barn, up to the hay Young lovers and they are not sleeping Young lovers in the hay (loft) With his gun turned on, pop went a-creeping Out to the barn, up to the hay (loft)

"Seriously?!" He shouted at the glowing Captain who flew past him. "Catch up. Catch up!" she teased him while leaving a trail of bodies in her way. "ANARCHYYYYYY!!!!!!!" You howled as you ran, following your new crush. Loki sighed, his head trying to hang as low as possible as he looked at the sleek shackles around his wrists. Breathing in a lungful, he grabbed the nearest iron rail from the window looking out at the barren mountains and bent it till it broke in his flexing hand. "Is this why I am still alive?" He whispered to himself while continuing to walk in the direction you just dashed in.

My daddy's got a gun My daddy's got a gun My daddy's got a gun You better run My daddy's got a gun My daddy's got a gun My daddy's got a gun Ga-ga-ga-ga-ga Ga-ga-ga-ga-ga

Throne Room Aellae sat on the ash throne frozen in thought when one of her underlings interrupted her daydreaming with its presence. "What?" She did not disguise her displeasure. There has been a mishap on the laboratory floor, my lady." Her body automatically shifted on her seat. "Four guards are dead. The source is unknown." "Is it the woman?" "No, my lady. I just checked up on her after locking Master Loki up." "Then who is it?" "We are yet to find out. My lady." "Then why are you wasting my time by standing here and doing nothing about it?" The skinny elf-like underling bowed down to her and scurried in the opposite direction. It had reached the entrance of the throne room when a weak scream left its lungs and it stepped back- falling down in the process- to make way for the uninvited guest. The poise on Aellae's face took a turn as she looked at the person casually sauntering in her direction, never realising when she got up. "Oh, don't stand on my account," White mentioned breezily with a smirk, coming to a halt right in the middle of the room. "Zune." She called out the name like spitting a curse. "It's been a while, my least favourite Witch of the West Galactica." Zune smiled his precious smile, standing bright in stark contrast to his dull surroundings. "Last time we met, you were grovelling on the floor, begging for mercy in front of the Silver Court, asking them not to punish you for the endless crimes you committed in the last century." The composure was evidently crumbling away in little pieces. Aellae's stone-like glare was slowly turning into fast blinks. Her usually unruffled breaths were now a mocked laugh. "And the court decided to send you to arrest me? Where is the rest of the coven?" She pretended to guess before snapping her pale fingers. "Oh, right. I burned them all. Poor boys. J'uke, Fae and Mi'in were still so young." Zune huffed and smiled. "Hmm. They were really young when they fought you, weren't they? And to answer your question, no. The court did not send me here." Now this made Aellae burst into laughter. "So, you are here for revenge? For your mates?" Licking his teeth, he bit his lip and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, all the playfulness in his feature draining out with every passing second. "I am just here to clean up the mess that you made. But they are the ones who are here for revenge." Taking a step back, Zune gave Aellae a few seconds to realise that they are not the only ones in this room. And just when it dawns upon her, she sees the rest of the 'coven' come out of the shadows, surrounding her from every probable escape route this place could have. "Fae," she whispered with a deep-rooted horror in her throat, backing up into her throne when she looked at the familiar red figure walking towards her. "When you were setting us up on fire-" Fae carried no empathy in his eyes as he moved closer with every step- "you forgot that you cannot make Gods made up of ancient stars disappear when you please." Every cell in Fae's body vibrated with a demonic aura that made the witch go down on her knees. Her breaths shook and her eyes watered. The claustrophobia resulting from just his presence made it hard for her to breathe. "No," she shook her head, trying her best to mask her fear. "No. This cannot be. I destroyed you. I destroyed the senate. I destroyed everything that stood in my path. I cannot fail this time. This world needs to kneel before my power. That God needs to kneel before me. NO!!" The six looked at their leader to begin the ceremony. "Aellae of the covens abandoned, child of the dark refugees, you are hereby sent to the endless pits of the universe for your crimes against the creatures of the universe." The screams of the witch echoed throughout the castle till every last ounce of life in her voice could be heard fading away by the other group at the far end of the other wing. By the time Carol arrived, all that was left were the seven boys and a pile of ash resting by the throne. “That was fast,” she did not refrain from mentioning, “I thought it would take more than that to get her to give up.” Zune shrugged. “Well, it was easy because we had you and your friends this time. She did not have much to distract us with, unlike the last time she was in prison.” Carol smiled a kind smile at them. “I hope they didn’t give you any trouble?” Fae stretched the corner of his lips. “When you first called us to go around the universe to look for a human, we were a little sceptical. But we were glad to have met her.” “Especially Zune,” Mi’in quipped, earning a yank by the ear from the leader. “Thank you for protecting her.” “No biggie. We would have protected her even if you didn’t tell us to.” Carol furrowed her brows at the statement. “Because Loki had already asked us for that favour,” Zune mentioned, clearing any doubts, “and we owed him from way back.” Feeling the ‘ah’ of a satisfactory conclusion coming on her face, she stopped midway to hear your scream turn louder the second you got closer till you turned the corner to enter the hall with your stick, forcing yourself to stop your lungs from going any further than that. “Oh,” you straightened your stance, giving up on the attack position as soon as you realised there was no more threat, “looks like you guys already cleaned the place.” “You almost sound disappointed,” J’uke stressed, judging by your disapproval of the lack of bad guys. Loki stepped in next, clearly having taken care of whatever tried to attack them from the back. "She hurt my friend. I at least wanted to watch her burn," you simply shrugged. Fae patted your head softly. "Don't worry. You'll get your chance." He smiled the most ridiculously comforting smile. "How?" You whined, "you guys already finished her." All the seven boys, Loki and Carol shared a look with each other while you stomped her foot in the ground while staring daggers at the pile of ashes.  "Yeah-" Zune blurted out, scratching an itch in the back of his neck- "we definitely, for sure, totally killed her. Like-" he pretended to chop the air with his hand- "so smooth." Everyone nodded in agreement. Our elder boys of the group supported their leader while Carol gave them soft applause. Loki gave them a thumb's up.

You: *turning away from the scene in the background where everyone now sits outside the castle having a chat with each other* Aww *smile widely* it feels so good to watch them get along like that!! *start staring in the distance* *smile still stuck on your face* I wish my family could get along this well too. You know. *tilt your head* If all of them got along with Loki, I feel like half of the world's problems would vanish just like that. *watch Javier sign something to you* What? Merch store? *reads some more* Manga?? *looks closely at Javier as he continues to sign* Fanfi-what does any of it have to do with Loki? *camera pans in on your confused innocent face*

"Here's my little monster!" Carol talked in a tone that one used on babies while stroking a very excited Lulu. "Who's a scary boy! Who's a scary boy!!! You are!!! Yes!! You are!!!" You chuckled, watching Lulu enjoy the love and attention from the Captain, bumping his head with hers, wiggling in her lap before settling down in her arms, his adrenaline going down. "Who's that?" Carol asked him, pointing at you. Lulu chirped. "And who's mamma's boy?" Lulu chirped again. "Aaaand who's gonna protect mamma from bad guys?" Lulu growled. And then he chirped again, hiding his faceless husk hairy face in his paws. "Oh my God, he growls!!!!" you gasped. "Oh, he is got a lot more to show you, mamma! Give him time." You sat down next to Carol and stroked a yawning Lulu, who was now making biscuits in her arms. "This one's helped me a lot through this weird, fatal, dreamy galactic trip," you mentioned wistfully. The camera- as well as Carol- noticed how your brows furrowed slightly before your teeth bit down on your lower lip and you turned your gaze up to search for something in the rocky terrain before finally resting on Loki. Carol watched this subtle shift, patiently spectating how Loki too was stealing glances your way while having some serious looking chat with the boys.

The boys and Loki: *standing in the grey terrain like a bunch of Gods modelling for luxury hair products* Loki: It's spelt Z-U-K-O Zune: You named a dog after the fire God? Loki: Wha-no. It was all her *points at you*. Apparently, Coco was a bit too mushy for her. Something about 'Zuko reminding her of a guy who was in his redemption arc right now'. Whatever that means. Zune: *looked at the camera panning in on his face*

"So, you wanna go back now?" Carol asked you, her hands still busy stroking a purring Lulu. You inhaled to answer but felt yourself turning to look at Loki. Carol noticed it too. "Of course. H-how, long will it take?" you scratched your forehead. "We were actually pretty close to getting Loki free of his...cuffs. And I'm sure two powerful beings is always better than one." Carol chuckled and nodded. "Tell you what-" she took your hand in hers, something that you were not expecting- "I will go and take care of a couple of things for our return journey. Till then-" she stroked your hand- "you find out for yourself. Whatever it is that you're looking for." That gentle tone and those cryptically simple words changed some spectrum of the emotions on your face. You stared at her for a long while with your mouth agape. "What are you talking about?" Your breath asked in exasperation. "Cuffs, I guess?" she proposed softly with a knowing smirk. You forced out a laugh. "I have no idea what you're talking about," You chuckled and found yourself looking back at Loki again.

The boys- well, at a few of them- tried to calm down the God who seemed to be picking up a rock from the ground. "Okay now-" Gin, our green jellybean, raised his hands- "let's all calm down and talk about this." "Yeah, yeah. How about we all go to the nearest oasis and have a cup of starry vodka and discuss how we are all alive. Right, Mi'in?" Me'isri, sweet yellow candy boy suggested casually. "Right," Loki nearly sang. His every step towards the boys made them retreat two. "We should be happy that the witch is gone for now. What could we possibly have had to do with her anyway? Hm? What's that? Oh! She was the one who stole my essence you say?" "Look," Ho, the sky blue cheery lad was suddenly not feeling so cheery at all, "we did not know-" "You numbnuts were the one who told me that!" Loki was practically hissing through his teeth right now, his steps breaking into a jog that was letting out some potential screams waiting in some lungs. Lulu was having a gala time just jumping in whichever direction the boys ran into as Loki chased them.

[sing-a-sirensong]

Breaktime

A short and sweet pwp for Simon/Markus

Summary: Markus pulls Simon away from his work for a (not so quick) break. Rating: E Warnings: None

On AO3 here

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Simon leans over his desk, staring blankly at the documents strewn across it. He’s been working in his room all day. His own, private, room. An arrangement that Simon is still getting used to, having his own space like this.

After the successful revolution, Carl Manfred had insisted that Markus ‘give your friends a place to stay, this damn house is too big and empty for one old man’ and hadn’t left much room for argument. North and Josh also have their own rooms in the, frankly enormous, house. But, more often than not, their duties would call them elsewhere, sometimes for days at a time.

Simon however, prefers mundane paperwork to dealing directly with other people. The others work plenty with the general public, Markus especially, so Simon spends most of his time at his desk peacefully working on drafts and bills.

Perhaps peacefully isn’t quite the right word. Simon scrunches his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose, willing away the uncomfortable pressure that has persisted there for hours now. Who knew that androids could get headaches? Although Simon supposes it was likely that a constant stream of dry legal material would be capable of giving anyone a headache.

Simon is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t hear the door, and startles at the feeling of arms wrapping around his middle. He quickly relaxes into the familiar embrace.

“Markus,” he breathes, smiling. “I didn’t hear you come in.” A chuckle rumbles in Simon’s ear.

“I’m not surprised,” Markus says. “You were so focused on your work I was a little concerned you were about to start burning holes through that desk.” Simon holds down a smile and playfully elbows backwards, aiming for Markus’s ribs. He misses.

“I would’ve mentioned before now if I had laser eyes. Something like that would’ve come in handy during our revolution, don’t you think?” Simon gripes, no real heat behind his words. Markus smothers a laugh between Simon’s shoulder blades.

“I think it may have helped speed things along a little, yes.” He jokes.

“Maybe then you wouldn’t have driven a damn truck through that storefront window.” Simon grumbles. Markus laughs again, deep and rich, arms tightening around Simon’s waist.

“You know I get into trouble when you’re not around.” He teases lightly, brushing a soft kiss behind Simon’s ear. Simon steadfastly ignores how his insides turn to goo at the simple action. Markus hooks his chin over Simon’s shoulder, glancing at the mess of papers on the desk. “What are you working on?” He asks. Simon sighs.

“It’s a draft for the Android Emergency Services project.” Simon explains. “It needs to be submitted to the city council by the end of next week and I promised Josh I would look over it for him.” Markus hums at that.

“By ‘look over it’ do you actually mean look over it, or do you mean write and edit the entire thing yourself?” Markus prods. Simon tries not to fidget too much, subconsciously gnawing his lip anyways. “You don’t have to take on so much by yourself, you know.” Markus says gently. Simon sighs again, placing his hands over Markus’s.

“I know,” he starts, “But Josh has been so busy with his proposal on the treatment of android children, and he’s been sending all those requests to the local school boards and-“ Markus interrupts him.

“I had almost the entire afternoon free today, my meeting finished early. Why didn’t you come to me to help you with it?” He asks, dropping a few light kisses along Simon’s shoulder. Simon melts into him, automatically tilting his head to allow Markus better access.

“I wanted you to have the break.” Simon says weakly. “You’ve been working nonstop for weeks, and I wanted to be helpful.” Markus lifts one hand to lace their fingers together, laying a line of kisses up Simon’s throat.

“You’re more than helpful, Si, always.” He murmurs against warm skin, his breath sending shivers up Simon’s spine. The nickname sends his thirium pump stuttering, a giddy feeling settling warm and soft under his ribs.

“You work so hard all the time and you hardly rest.” The hand not tangled with Simon’s slips under the hem of his sweatshirt, warm fingers sweeping lightly across his belly. Simon’s eyes flutter shut at the sensation. “You deserve a break too, you know.” Markus’s voice is low and sweet, covering Simon like thick honey as he sinks into it.

“Markus…” He breathes, the rest of his words vanishing as he lays his head back to rest on Markus’s shoulder. Markus hums softly, nosing under Simon’s jaw to suck a hot, openmouthed kiss into the sensitive skin there. Simon can’t help the quiet moan that escapes, heat curling low in his abdomen.

“Come on Si,” he urges, “Take a break.” The hand on Simon’s stomach flattens and stills, holding him in place. The other hand, still tangled with Simon’s, slides down and cups their shared grip against the front of his pants, pressing down firmly. Simon whines, his free hand flying up to clutch at the back of Markus’s neck. “For me?” Markus asks sweetly, his soft tone a stark contrast to the hand that’s quickly unravelling Simon’s focus.

“Yeah,” Simon pants, “I could ahh- I could do that.” He moans, rocking forward into his own palm pressed tight between his legs by Markus’s hand. The friction sends sparks of pleasure across his wiring, but it’s not nearly enough. Distantly, Simon feels his self-lubrication protocols activate and he dismisses the notification.

“Please,” he breathes, paperwork forgotten entirely.

“Anything you want sweetheart,” Markus croons, “Anything.” Simon flushes with heat at the endearment, hiding his face under Markus’s chin.

“Kiss me?” He manages to ask weakly, and Markus releases him, giving him room to turn. Simon spins around quickly, cupping Markus’s face in his hands. His fingers stroke reverently over hand-painted freckles and artificial stubble. Markus settles one hand on Simon’s waist, pulling him in, the other sliding into his hair to guide their lips together.

Simon sighs against Markus’s mouth, eyes closing and lips parting immediately to deepen the kiss. He moans softly at the feel of Markus’s tongue against his own, knees going weak as Markus licks into his mouth. He presses closer, draping his arms around Markus’s neck and sucking greedily on his tongue. He swallows the small noise that escapes Markus, desperate to taste more.

Simon loves kissing Markus, would never stop if he could. Markus kisses with a careful thoroughness, like it’s a task that needs all of his concentration to accomplish. Being at the centre of that focus is dizzying.

Hands slide down to grip the backs of Simon’s thighs and Markus lifts him like he weighs nothing, breaking the kiss with a wet pop. Simon automatically hooks his ankles behind Markus and takes in the look on his face. His lips are wet and shiny, mismatched eyes hooded with desire. Simon isn’t much better, cheeks flushed and his hair a mess.

“Simon,” Markus starts, voice low and soft. Simon’s gaze slides back to Markus’s mouth and he dips down to kiss him again, cutting off whatever else Markus planned to say. He tilts his head for a better angle and sucks on Markus’s bottom lip, revelling in the low noise Markus makes. “Si,” he groans, “Can we- the bed?” He manages to rasp out between kisses and Simon nods briefly, their noses brushing together. Markus turns them and walks to the bed, setting one knee on the mattress and tipping them down onto the sheets.

Simon lets out a happy sigh when Markus’s weight settles on top of him, arms wrapping around his shoulders to keep him there. But Markus resists the hold, leaning back and huffing out a small laugh.

“Clothes, Simon.” He says, amused, pointedly grinding their covered erections together. Simon tosses his head back with a moan, hips jerking up at the friction dulled through the layers of fabric.

“Yeah,” he gasps, voice tinged with laughter, “I forgot about that part. Kind of important, isn’t it?” Markus chuckles and reaches back to pull his shirt over his head. Simon is momentarily stunned, distracted by smooth brown skin and broad shoulders. He shakes out of his stupor and yanks his own shirt off, struggling briefly as it catches on his ears. He hears Markus laugh. “Shut up.” He grumbles, fighting down a smile, and chucks his shirt in Markus’s direction. He catches it easily. After some clumsy shuffling and giggles, they’re both finally naked.

Markus settles back between Simon’s legs, dropping down to reconnect their mouths. Simon groans at the contact, thighs squeezing Markus’s hips. The kiss is heated but brief as Markus moves on to drop kisses across his collarbones and chest, sliding lower. He places featherlight kisses around the indentation of Simon’s pump regulator and Simon squirms, a small whimper caught in the back of his throat.

“I’ve got you.” Markus breathes, eyes flickering up to meet Simon’s. “Let me take care of you?” He asks, so earnest. He’s always like this, always asking permission, asking if Simon is okay. As if Simon would ever want to refuse him anything. He nods, already burning with arousal and desperate for Markus’s hands to be on him.

Markus continues lower, sucking a line of kisses down the sensitive skin of Simon’s inner thigh. A gentle scrape of teeth has Simon shuddering, wishing desperately that Markus could leave a mark.

“You’re so good Simon,” Markus says, voice low. “So pretty, laid out like this.” Simon whines, systems lighting up at the praise, erection beading against his belly. Markus sucks hard at the junction between his hip and thigh, and Simon jolts.

“Markus,” he pants, “You d-don’t-” He breaks off on a moan as Markus switches to the other thigh, mouthing hot and wet down to the same spot on the opposite side before he worries it with his teeth.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” Markus asks lowly, his voice buzzing across Simon’s skin and sending shivers up his spine.

“Touch me.” Simon begs. “Markus, please.” And Markus finally complies, closing his fingers around Simon’s cock and giving him a slow tug. Simon moans, hips thrusting as Markus swipes his thumb over the tip, slowly smearing the synthetic precome against heated skin.

“Look at you,” Markus purrs, stroking him slowly. “Being so good for me, aren’t you?”

And Simon sobs, nodding helplessly. He feels so close to overheating already, and they’ve barely even started.

Markus’s hand is slick with how much Simon is leaking and he squeezes lightly, twisting his wrist as Simon’s cock slides through his grip, fingers slipping over the sensitive head.

“Fuck,” Simon gasps, back arching as Markus repeats the motion.

“Does that feel good sweetheart?” Markus coos, dark and soft like velvet. His voice has Simon writhing against the sheets, whining as he threads his fingers into his own hair in a desperate effort to ground himself. He pants, expelling heated puffs of hair.

Simon’s cock throbs in Markus’s hand, his thumb teasing just under the head as more words of filthy praise spill from his lips. Simon chokes on a static-filled moan, grasping blindly at Markus’s arm. His hips are rocking with Markus’s long pulls, chasing the delicious friction. The pace is torturous, but it’s so so good and Simon’s processors are scrambling to keep up with the waves of pleasure rushing through his circuits.

Markus releases him, and Simon sucks in a few shaky breaths, trying to regain his bearings. He jolts suddenly at the feeling of a finger petting at his entrance, spreading the lubricant that’s leaking out of him. He rocks his hips down instinctively, encouraging Markus to continue.

“Yes,” he gasps, spreading his legs wider. “Markus yes I want- ohhh.” His words dissolve into moans as Markus easily slips two fingers inside, stroking Simon’s inner walls. “More, please.” He pants.

Markus hums against his throat, carefully sliding in a third finger. “You’re doing so well, taking my fingers like this.” He curls them slowly, punching a hoarse cry out of Simon. “So warm and tight,” he praises, “You’re going to feel amazing around my cock.” Simon whines, clenching down on the fingers inside him. He doesn’t need to be prepared like this, but Markus loves it, loves watching Simon fall apart underneath him.

The sounds of Markus’s fingers slowly fucking in and out of him fill the room, wet and obscene. Simon flushes with embarrassment, crossing his arms over his face. Markus slides his free hand up, moving Simon’s arms away and dropping delicate kisses across his burning cheeks.

“You’re lovely,” he says sweetly, “Don’t hide that pretty face from me.” He twists his fingers, pressing deep and circling his fingers over the spot that sends Simon to pieces.

“Oh, fuck,” Simon says brokenly, shoving his hips down into Markus’s hand.

“Right there?” Markus teases, not letting up. Simon sobs, toes curling at the unrelenting internal massage.

“Markus-“ he pants, “Markus, fuck, please. I- I’ll come if you don’t stop.” He pleads. He whines at the loss when Markus stops and slides his fingers out.

“Next time you can come on my fingers.” He promises, and Simon shudders. “Ready?” Simon nods, and he watches as Markus gives himself a few quick strokes, lips parting in pleasure, before lining himself up.

Simon tosses his head back as Markus presses into him, trembling at the stretch. He gasps at the slow drag of Markus’s cock working him open, not stopping until his hips are pressed flush to Simon’s ass. Markus’s length is thick, and hot, and perfect, and Simon clenches down, whining at the fullness.

“Fuck,” Markus curses, “You’re perfect.” He presses his hips forward, grinding deep, and Simon scrabbles to find purchase on his shoulders. He sucks on the skin of Simon’s throat and moves his hips back, sinking back in achingly slowly. Simon squeezes his legs around Markus’s waist, rolling his hips to meet each thrust.

“God, Simon,” Markus groans, sucking more kisses along Simon’s collarbone. “You’re so beautiful.” Simon shudders and whimpers, heat warnings flashing across his vision.

Markus pulls him closer, thrusting harder, and Simon cries out, voice edged with static. Simon’s cock brushes Markus’s belly with every roll of his hips, each thrust tearing a moan from Simon’s throat, the pleasure building between his legs almost unbearable.

“You close, Si?” Markus asks breathlessly, pace unrelenting. Simon can only nod and whine, his HUD quickly becoming overcrowded with system alerts and error messages. “Gonna come for me, sweetheart?” And Simon sobs, oh he wants to come so badly he can only think yes, and please, and Markus, but he can’t form the words.

But Markus understands, keeping his thrusts steady as he reaches between them and jerks Simon’s cock with short, tight strokes. It’s too much, too much, and Simon’s spine arches when he comes. He wails as the wave of pleasure crashes over him, clenching hard around the thick length inside him, spilling messily over Markus’s fingers. His limbs jerk and tremble as Markus milks him, hardware struggling as the overwhelming impulses wracking his sensors edge his system towards an emergency reboot.

Markus finally lets up, hips losing their rhythm as he moans into Simon’s shoulder.

“Simon, fuck, Simon.” He groans, hips stuttering to a stop deep inside Simon. He distantly feels Markus coming, shaking and moaning Simon’s name.

They stay there for a moment, systems recalibrating. Markus recovers first, brushing Simon’s hair out of his face and pressing a kiss to his forehead. Simon makes a soft noise of displeasure when Markus pulls out, grabbing weakly for his arm when he stands.

“We have to get cleaned up.” He huffs, amused. Simon grumbles softly, not relinquishing his grip on Markus’s wrist. Markus relents, chuckling, and grabs his discarded t-shirt for a perfunctory wipe down. He settles back on the bed and Simon curls against his side, hooking one leg over Markus’s thigh and draping an arm over his chest. “You know you’re going to be cranky about this later, right?

“Don’t care.” Simon mumbles, smushing his face into Markus’s chest. His processors are still sluggish, running diagnostics in the background to clear up any lingering errors. Markus’s fingers trail gently up and down his spine.

“You’re very cute when you’re cuddly.” Markus teases, grinning when Simon flushes with embarrassment and hides his face further. He presses a kiss to the top of Simon’s head, laughing softly.

“Should get some rest, Si.” He murmurs, and Simon makes a noise that sounds like vague agreement, falling easily into stasis. Markus noses softly into Simon’s hair before he follows suit.

[siennahrobek]

“Let me get this straight,” Cody struggled to express. You worked with Alpha-17.” The two of them had gone through the Temple after General Kenobi finished up his few communications and then explained to Cody what had happened on Kamino. The whole thing was rather bizarre, although not unwelcome. He definitely wanted as many of his brothers to flee with him and the Jedi as possible. He just never thought that Alpha-17 would lead a mutiny against the Kaminise and other natborns on the planet to take it over and start preparing for their own evacuation, planning to stay with the Jedi.

A few Temple guards would give General Kenobi a glance and then type something into their comm devices. Cody wasn’t entirely sure what they was about but Obi-Wan seemed rather unbothered.

General Kenobi hummed. “Many times.”

“You know Alpha-17.”

“Quite well, actually.”

“And he staged a mutiny after you warned him of the chips and Sith.”

“It appeared that way.”

“We are speaking of the same Alpha-17, correct? Big, burly, strictly loyal to the Republic, implies that the Jedi are kind of dumb and doesn’t seem to particularly care much about them, Alpha-17?”

“I wouldn’t say he dislikes Jedi,” General Kenobi replied, brows creasing.

“The Alpha-17 that practically doesn’t speak particularly kindly of anyone outside his-,” Cody stopped and thought about this for a moment. Did…was it possible? Alpha-17 of all people? There were stories about him being vaguely nicer ish when he came back and was stationed at Kamino full time as a trainer but, Cody had thought they were just that, stories.

General Kenobi glanced at him. “What?”

Cody shook his head. He would have to wrap his mind around that whole idea for later. “Nothing, sir. Just surprised he staged a mutiny and evacuation for you.”

General Kenobi snorted. “He didn’t do it for me. I just warned him.”

“As you say, sir.”

Time went on and the two of them worked harder and harder, talking and moving and even scouting the perimeter. Everything was in a hustle and bustle. Finally, someone mentioned anything Kenobi wanted to bring along. He had paused, like he hadn’t really thought of it; he hadn’t been anywhere near his own quarters. Cody surmised he probably hadn’t wrapped his head around the fact that he would probably never return.

It took some urging, but the two of them finally made their way to Kenobi’s quarters.

They stood at the doorway of his quarters; his general’s name emblazoned on a plate at the door. He hesitated before opening it and stepping inside. Cody hadn’t been here before; usually when he was in the Temple there was a reason and with all the duties that he and General Kenobi had, there wasn’t a lot of time for relaxation. The jedi took a deep breath of stale air and turned on the lights.

It was simple a small, although Cody had a feeling that the lack of personal items was due mostly to the war and being out all the time, rather than anything else. He didn’t spend much time here, Cody knew.

“Go pack some things, General,” Cody said, quietly. “I’ll see what I can get from the kitchenette.” He didn’t wait for an answer when he moved to the kitchen area, putting a few things of silverware in a box before setting it outside for one of his boys to pick up on their rounds down the hall. Afterwards, he had waited a few minutes for his jedi to return from his room, but curiosity got the better of him and he walked towards the door. There was an open duffle on the bed, a few items Cody couldn’t quite make out stuffed inside over the clothes. A dark case sat next to it. General Kenobi sat on the mattress, an unfamiliar lightsaber in his palms as he stared at it. It wasn’t Kenobi’s, Cody knew, and he was fairly certain it wasn’t Anakin’s either, as that one was clicked to the jedi’s belt.

“Whose is that?” he asked, softly.

“This saber was my masters, Qui-Gon Jinn. I had used it for some time after he died, used it to defeat the Sith, Darth Maul that had killed him,” General Kenobi explained, his voice a little void of the usual tones Cody was used to hearing from him. “I had used it afterwards before Master Yoda told me I should go to Illum to construct another. He would have hated what we became.”

“I didn’t know Ge-Master Jinn,” Cody admitted. “But in the end, you have saved countless lives of not only civilians and innocents, but me and my brothers as well. This was going to happen with or without you. The Jedi just did what they could to protect those they could and bring down the death toll. You always told me it was a Jedi’s duty to put others’ lives before your own, to help and protect them the best you could, to work for the greater good. I believe you did the best with the crappy situation you were forced into.”

General Kenobi’s gaze was warm and kind but very tired. He stood up and walked towards Cody before taking Cody’s arm and pressing the hilt in his palm. Cody couldn’t look at him and just stared at the saber, his mind buzzing. “I would like you to carry this, use it if necessary,” General Kenobi said with a deep breath.  “It has been sitting in my drawer for too long; it should protect people once more.”

“General, I-,” Cody started but General Kenobi shook his head.

“Trust me, Cody,” he assured. “There are few as worthy.”

The hilt was warm in his hand. He closed his fingers and nodded, firmly. “I will protect it with my life, sir.”

General Kenobi smirked. “I’m fairly certain it will be the other way around.”

Cody didn’t even get a chance to answer when General Kenobi’s commlink beeped. Pressing a button, he answered with a simple “Kenobi here.”

“Obi-Wan,” came the grumbling yet pleased voice of Kenobi’s diner friend, Dexter Jettser. “At least you’re alive.”

An eyebrow hiked up on his face as General Kenobi looked vaguely surprised. “Was there a doubt?”

“The Temple looks partially sunken in and is on fire, the clones are killing jedi,” Dex replied, uncharacteristically serious and dour. “I wasn’t sure if you were planet side or not and had doubts.”

“I am alive and have survived the siege on the Temple. We have pushed the attacking force back for now and are starting to…pack,” he replied, carefully. Dex seemed to get his meaning.

“Understood. You have a friend in me, always,” the besalisk promised. “But I have two Jedi here, one is in pretty rough shape. I’m working on transport for them, but it might be a moment. I don’t know where you will be. I won’t send them to the Temple, obviously.”

“Before the war, I asked you about a certain poison dart,” General Kenobi hummed, almost amused. Cody raised an eyebrow raised an eyebrow at him.

“Gotcha, that helps,” Dex replied. Cody didn’t know exactly what that meant or how Dex seemed to know exactly what General Kenobi was talking about, but they appeared sure and Cody could trust General Kenobi.

“And Dex?”

“Yeah?”

“The Clones, it…it isn’t their fault,” General Kenobi added, quietly. “They have chips in their brains that force them to comply. They are easy to find if you have an advanced enough droid and medical equipment and easy to remove but we did not know about them until recently. The Sith…the Sith have done this.”

For the first time ever, Cody heard the diner owner let out a string of curses. General Kenobi looked a little surprised too. “I understand,” he repeated, nearly in a growl. Dex had been pretty good to the clones during the course of the war. He gave them snacks and even passed along treats through General Kenobi for the 212th. They were welcome in his diner. “I’m sorry, Obi-Wan. I know how you feel about those boys.”

General Kenobi cast his eyes aside and closed them for a long moment. “We are doing all we can at this point,” he added.

“You should get going. I will leave you to it. Good luck, Obi-Wan. Stay alive.”

The new silence felt like it consumed everything. Neither was willing to speak. General Kenobi grabbed his bag in one hand and the dark case in the other and made his way towards the door. “We should get going,” he finally let out.

“I’m sure the evacuation is well on it’s way,” Cody added. “I have gotten a few updates; the ship is quickly filling up. Things are running mostly smoothly. Organa’s ships have sped things up rather drastically. He’s a good ally.”

“That he is,” Obi-Wan agreed, as they got through the door. Two soldiers came up to them and grabbed the box from the front and offered to take Kenobi’s other things. It only took a little urging to get him to give them up. “I hope Ahsoka, and Master Feemor have gone up,” he murmured. “Rex was with them; I believe he is fine.”

“I haven’t seen him yet,” Cody confessed. “I didn’t know he was planet side.”

“I had warned Ahsoka not to come but she did anyways. I felt Rex as well, but I think Master Feemor had convinced him to go to the Healing Halls immediately,” General Kenobi explained, softly as they worked their way down the halls, abandoning the jedi’s quarters for what would probably be the last time. It was no sentimental affair.

“But not Ahsoka?”

“No,” Obi-Wan replied, a bit bitterly. “She had stayed just long enough during my duel with…with Anakin to watch him slaughter a youngling and a padawan. After that, Master Feemor took her away. I don’t know what to say to her when I see her,” he admitted.

Cody clenched his gloved hand into a fist, trying to work through and release his anger. He was generally good at it, except for the fact that the person who betrayed them was someone Cody thought would never try to kill his general. Killing innocent children…that was beyond terrible. He tried not to think too hard on it, but did he want Skywalker to burn. They continued to walk down the halls, a bit briskly. “Do you know this Master Feemor? I’ve been hearing a lot of him from you.”

He seemed to think about this for a moment, bringing a hand up to his chin, trying quite hard to think. “Not really. The name sounds vaguely familiar, but I cannot seem to place him. When we escape, I will have to ask him some time. He helped me turn away the homing beacon for the jedi out in the field. And he assisted me, at least at times, with my duel with Anakin.”

There was a pause and Cody narrowed his eyes. Someone he would have to look into, for sure.

Thoughts and silence were broken by the incessant beeping on Obi-Wan’s commlink. Cody was hoping, if anything, it would just be an update from Master Drallig or Boil on how the evacuation was going. Perhaps they were almost done, and they could get a move on. They were not so lucky.

“Obi-Wan,” Senator Amidala’s voice was part fury, part relief and part frustration. There was a lot to pick up on and Cody’ wasn’t sure how to feel about it right now. Did she have to do this now? “Finally, you picked up. Obi-Wan what in the world is happening? I have been trying to get a hold of you forever! I can’t get in contact with Anakin and then Ahsoka said something that just could not be true at all about him. Bail and I went to a Senate meeting where Palpatine created an Empire and said the Jedi were traitors! What is happening?”

This was not going to be a pleasant conversation, Cody knew, especially from the look on General Kenobi’s face, which was drawn out and exhausted. Talking with politicians was never pleasant. At least with what General Kenobi had said about Organa, that man had made things extremely brief, offering up his ships and services instead of pressing for questions.

“I do not have time right now, Senator,” Obi-Wan replied, his voice as calm as ever. It was probably good she couldn’t see him; he looked exhausted and probably not entirely pleased with her at the moment. “We are evacuating the Temple of as of currently and Anakin is a complicated subject.”

“We need to talk.”

“About Anakin or about your pregnancy?”

“Y-You know about that?”

“Of course, I know about that,” Obi-Wan added with a sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. The pregnancy thing was new to Cody, but he knew about Skywalker’s relationship with the Senator. They weren’t nearly as subtle as they thought they were and Cody had an amusing time ribbing Rex about it, although it wasn’t generally blatantly. “And Anakin is the father no doubt.”

“Y-yes.”

“That is very dangerous, Senator,” he sighed lightly again. “How far exactly are you along now?”

“I’m due within the next week or two.”

Obi-Wan’s face dropped so far Cody started to worry. His expression then hardened into determination. “Senator, you must leave and come with the Jedi-,” Cody shot him an alarmed looked. “If you want the children to survive.”

“What are you talking about?!”

“Look this is all very complicated but you are going to need the help of the Jedi Healer. Pregnancies with force sensitives can be extremely difficult, especially when the pregnant partner is not,” General Kenobi explained, clear and steady. “And with Anakin’s midiclorian count and power with the Force, it is entirely possible you will die if you do not get help from Jedi healers when it is time for you to give birth. And given the fact that you are carrying twins-.”

“Twins?!”

So apparently the Senator did not know that. Wasn’t there pre-birth care for upcoming mothers, Cody mused.

Obi-Wan barely skipped a beat. “That also puts the risks much higher. The jedi are not sticking around the Temple to get slaughtered by the new emperor. So, if you want your children and yourself to live, you need to come with us.” His statement was firm and unyielding. There was no real debate, no choice to really make if she wanted her children to have a chance.

The Senator was quiet for a long moment. “Alright,” she conceded. “For my children. I do not believe what has been said about Anakin. He is a good person and can be saved…but I need to think about my…children right now.”

“If you are to come with us, you must leave immediately. We do not have much time and we cannot afford to wait. We have our own children to think about as well,” Obi-Wan gritted his teeth before taking a deep breath and smoothing himself out. “If you need help to get to the Negotiator, contact Senator Organa.”

“I will take my own ship,” she announced. “Just let your men know I am coming.”

“We will. Goodbye, Padme. I will explain that I can when we meet again.”

Obi-Wan didn’t wait for her to respond and hung up. There was a moment of silence before he leaned himself against the wall, as if he couldn’t hold himself up again. “This is a mess.”

“She doesn’t know about Skywalker?”

“I believe Ahsoka may have called her but…Padme loves him, I doubt she would want to believe it. She sees the best in him,” he shook his head.

Cody nearly snorted. “So do you. Sometimes it’s just not enough. Come on, General, I know you won’t go up until the last ship, until everyone else is aboard, but we can find somewhere to help until then.”

“I would like to see how the medical staff is doing; things would be going rather slow for them, as it is more difficult to move the injured. And also, perhaps, some of the freed clones if we can. I cannot imagine the difficult time they are having, waking up from being brainwashed only to run around to evacuate without being able to deal with what has happened to them.” He sounded so mournful, just thick with feeling and tension, more than Cody had ever really heard from him. General Kenobi tended to be quiet and private with his grief, although open with his praise. It was a bit rare to see such a show of heartache in others’ presence.

This was hard. For him, for Cody, for the Jedi. Cody was just trying not to think about it right; one thing at a time. He could only do so much to help and save as many as he could. Every so often his fist would curl, his legs would shake, his brain would get full, but Cody did what he did best; he pushed on. And on and on.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to see the outcome right now. He was still trying not to think about the fact that he had been, although briefly, brainwashed and taken over by the Sith. Even though he hadn’t done any damage, the feeling was still there, oily and disgusting. It made his skin crawl.

Cody couldn’t imagine what the rescued 501st was feeling right now.

But General Kenobi was determined, and Cody couldn’t help but go along with it. He would stay by his general’s side. He just dreaded what he would see when he saw his brothers and what was left of them.

[jae-canikeepyou]

| odd hour | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: fluff again cuz why not

a/n: written without proof reading because i had other writings to deal with :p hehehe! anyway i hope you enjoy reading, my dears! ~j.  

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your chest tightened at the loud sound blasting from your phone. eventually your hands pulled the remains of your blanket to muffle out the ringtone. that’s great! it stopped ringing for a moment before the vibration went ahead of the tone. heck, it rang again. you kicked the covers in frustration, little whimpers escaping your lips that it was another night you couldn’t have a peaceful trip to your slumber.

the bright light kept blinking in the dark and forcing you to open your eyes. anger was written all over your sleepy body as you turned lazily to the table beside the bed. who could be calling you at this hour when you already started to enjoy the dream projected in your brain? screw whoever cut it short. as if you had the screen memorised, your fingers slid across to answer the call.

“hello?” you greeted groggily with a long, and somewhat disrespectful yawn. no harm in letting them know how irritated you were, right?

“y/n! i called you twice and you answer at the second call? you usually pick up after the first ‘prrrring’!” mingyu, your best friend slightly yelled a bit louder in attempt to overpower the booming sound system in the background. probably in the club again, you thought.

“mingyu?” you sat up just so you wouldn’t fall asleep. “tsk. ever thought of that i might be sleeping at this hour? it’s 3 a.m for crying out loud!”

by the sound of his voice in the other line, it was obvious his phone was taken away. you could hear him scolding someone, actually, when did he never scold anyone, that included you as well. “yah! jaehyun!”

you quickly stood up in your disheveled pj’s; heart hammering non-stop at the mention of this handsome, human being that have always caught you off guard whenever mingyu would hang with you. he’d tag along too and each time that happened, you tried not to smile or blush in front of the dimpled heartthrob.

and most of the time you end up failing when the rest of the boys shoot you with teasing daggers of grins.

the call was still on hold, and it appeared that mingyu tried to snap the boy back to reality. he kept on raising his tone and uneven breaths were heard, trying to chase jaehyun. you were walking back and forth— feeling nervous, in which by the way, was unnecessary. but what were you supposed to feel?

it was jeong jaehyun.

the guy you fell hard for, literally; when you tripped over due to the desktop chair’s legs that you didn’t see. embarrassing as it was, he was indeed a gentleman to have helped you stand up on your toes. your eyes never left his until he bowed to take his leave.

“y/n! do you have time?” mingyu finally went back to giving the attention you waited for. “i got hold of jaehyun.”

“and?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed in question and held in your breath, the useless excitement of yours started growing— so were your eyes when he said the next words,

and also that had you blushing hard.

“pick your man up!” mingyu laughed with a husky and hiccupy kind.

you became flustered and panicked and your lips couldn’t utter a response. he started to burst out laughing, only to stop when jaehyun took the phone from him. “ʸ/ⁿ! ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ? ʰᵉˡˡᵒ!” he sounded drunk and totally different from what you had imagined. he was already cute, but the jaehyun now was cuter.

“y/n, please come here and get him?” mingyu begged. poor guy, his 97-line friends partied the night away and if there was anyone who would drive, that’d be him. “i can’t fit an extra person in my seven-seater van.” he whined and you could already picture out his pouty lips. “i’ve got chan, seokmin, jungkook, bam, minghao and eunwoo. jae’s a big guy so-”

grabbing your jacket and slipped on some comfy sweatpants, you headed for the door but stopped mid-way when you realised what you were doing. crap i got carried away. “wait hold up.” you sighed, putting down your car keys. “an extra person wouldn’t be a problem right? put someone at the compartment area or on the floor or something.”

mingyu faked a laugh. “i’ve never seen jae drunk before. i don’t want him puking.” he claimed.

“so you’d rather want him to throw up in my car-”

“ah consider this a favor, my sweet sis.” cutting you off and leaving you stunned in your tracks. “we, your brothers know your crush towards him. so if you don’t want us to tell him about your jeelings when he’s sober, better get here soon~”

j-jeelings??

you tried to enter his blabbermouth reasons even if you knew you didn’t stand a chance against this giant puppy. “wait, ‘gyu! i don’t know his apartme-” and he ended the call.

great, what were you going to do now?

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the road was identical with those seen in an apocalyptic world described in movies. there were less people, flickering lampposts and garbage/debris spinning in circles with the wind’s currents. you flinched at the touch from jaehyun’s arms, which were attached to yours. he mumbled words in ways you couldn’t understand. it appeared more of a gibberish language; if not, then he was a total baby.

with combined smell of his perfume and alcohol, you thought you were about to pass out. he was too close and wondered how he was able to cling onto you in the most uncomfortable way possible. you sighed as you finally pulled over at his apartment block.

“jaehyun. we’re home.” you said, unbuckling the seatbelt and you had to do it for him since he was busy giggling at the buzzing fly trying to escape the window.

“we’re homeee?” he turned to you, face flushed than ever where you blinked non-stop at his stupid, adorable smile. “is it possible that you’re my wife? *hiccup* hahahaaa! wait i’m not even married yet!”

w-wife?..

you got off the car and went to his side, opening the door then found him struggling to stand up. “are you my wife?” he giggled.

“jaehyun you’re not married and i’m not your w-wife.” you said sternly, biting back from saying your actual, honest thoughts aloud.

he slung his arms around you thinking that you would support his weight. once you arrived at his doorstep, he pulled and led you into his apartment. apparently with the little furnitures he owned and no roommates found, it was clear that he lived alone. “stay here. i’ll give you water.” he offered and headed to the kitchen with wobbly steps. funny how he could make out his way there.

the place he calls home had pretty basic things; a keyboard, a complete set of tech-stuff you had no knowledge of and a vinyl turntable with several records. you snapped out of admiration when he handed you a glass of water and gummy smile glued to his face. getting up, you decided it was best for the both of you to get some rest. “thanks jae. now that you’re here, i’m gonna head back ho-”

a light thump on the wooden floor had you turning to him, but you covered your eyes at his action.

“tsk, it’s hot.” he removed his hoodie and underneath it revealed his tank top and toned arms. he was about to remove his top when you stopped him just in time.

“w-what’re you doing?!” you squealed and hopped, panicky and unsure what to do next. one palm covered your eyes and the other brought forth to reach him.

“taking my clothes off- hey! that tickles!” he whined, then laughing at the tugs you pulled at the ends of this hoodie, preventing him from further actions.

you fanned yourself at the exerted strength you’ve given, resting your arm by your waist. “gosh you’re such a handful!” you sighed. it was alright to blush since he wasn’t sober to see your expressions. thank heavens.

jaehyun crossed his arms and looked at you from head to toe. feeling the sleep signals hitting your body, you yawned at the odd hour you were suddenly dragged into. you thought bringing him home was hard, but getting him to stay at one place was harder.

his smiley face and waving body headed to the kitchen again, you slowly followed him around the apartment. “are you really not my wife?” his sudden turn to face you, causing flinch at his touch on your arm.

“jaehyun, for the last time, i’m not.” heh i wish. you rubbed his fluffy hair and grabbed your keys to get home. “wash up now and good night jae.”

he lightly slammed the wall behind you, not letting you leave. his eyes stared into yours, luring you into his world, an imperfect perfection. the weight of his forehead suddenly leaned on your shoulder, as if he was towering over you and yet he lowered himself to pull you close to him. “i won’t let you.”

the stillness of your body followed his words, like obeying a general’s command and no matter how sleepy you were, that went away once you returned his hug, not wanting to let go and take in the moment. this was rare, although it seemed like you took advantage of his drunkenness, even on normal days it was difficult to hold a conversation with jaehyun because he seemed so far-fetched.

a soft air of whispers tickled your ears, sending goosebumps at the touch of them. “did i surprise you?” he asked, followed by again a drunken giggle.

was he serious? “and if i said no?” you lied, trying to appear unaffected when you actually were. what’s wrong with you y/n?

“‘no?’ then if i do this, will you be surprised?” he asked with a challenging tone and had to leaned in closer than before where you both of your knees were touching.

“what exactly are you going to do nghf-” your fingers curled and eyes flutter when a sudden warmth met your lips. you knew you were going to faint right then and there,

but in fact it was the opposite.

jaehyun’s weight lifted off of you, collapsing afterwards when darkness consumed his sight to meet his sleep. he mumbled words that you didn’t notice, still utterly shocked with what he did. you managed to catch him and supported him to his bed.

your fingers touched the slightly swollen lips he planted upon as you were out of his door. then it immediately got you thinking that there was no way you would be able to look at him in the eye the next time you both meet.

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the drumming of your heart continued for the next days since that night. yugyeom noticed how fidgety you were whenever jaehyun would sit with the group at the library or at the caféteria. you’d immediately leave and think of lame excuses so you wouldn’t see jaehyun. at first they didn’t mind, you were a busy person after all. however this time, yugyeom managed to grab your wrists and plop you back to the chair. you mentally cursed at him and he didn’t seem to care like smiling it off would let him off the hook.

you annoyingly and purposely tilted your body so you wouldn’t face jaehyun entirely. “i don’t know what’s up with you but you gotta spill why you’re behaving this way.” yugyeom whispered and you rolled your eyes because yeah, you were busted.

“am i too obvious?” your surrendering voice softened his eyes, more so when you covered your face.

he raised his eyebrows and little did you know mingyu witnessed this as well. “obvious when you’re trying to hide your feelings for jaehyun or obvious that you’re trying ditch us again because of jaehyun?”

“both.” you sighed.

“did something happen that night?” mingyu cupped his lips, soon joining the so called ‘secret and quiet’ conversation you and yugyeom were having.

he didn’t get any verbal responses from you because you gave them a smile of uncertainty where your palms brushed your lips briefly. he covered his mouth as if he was really shocked, more of he really was. “something did, yeah?” he whispered and was convinced from your actions.

your phone alarmed, reminding you of your next class. quickly you packed your stuff and shoved them inside the bag, not caring whether they were neat or not. the rushed actions made jaehyun and the others look your way, and you tried your best to not meet his eye. “i gotta go.”

the faint smell of your perfume stayed in jaehyun’s nostrils whilst you didn’t bother to say goodbye. he turned his torso around, following your figure until it was getting further off the horizon of the caféteria. his friends became awkwardly silent, and he expected them to at least say something if there was a reason of your unusual behavior. instead, he got nothing, that they continued to eat even if they knew he had questions.

“is y/n okay?” he tilted his head in confusion, and saw how his buds bend theirs.

no one dared to speak because in this table, jaehyun was the oblivious one. he wasn’t aware of your feelings for him and the others have kept silent knowing the consequences if they told him; you were quite an angry bear, ‘a cute kind’, they said. “why are you all suddenly quiet?” he asked, the sips and slurps of the cups soon to be emptied.

“oh well y’know..” mingyu chuckled with his fangs peeking out. “just tired?”

“‘cause we’re eating?” jungkook pointed his food.

“uh we have a choice to be?” chan giggled with seokmin who was unable to keep silent.

jaehyun raised a brow, totally not convinced at the excuses and sat back with arms crossed. “you know i could tell if something’s up. who answers with a question anyway?” his straightforwardness wasn’t doing enough to keep them talking. “i’m gonna follow y/n.”

yugyeom stood to stop jaehyun from doing his thing without thinking straight. “wait!” he called out to him and the boy turned around.

the rest of the circle had given daggers to youngest who kept telling him to keep his words to himself. they really didn’t want to make you angry, but what yugyeom was doing would risk their friendship with you. to be exact, risk your friendship with jaehyun’s because of term called ‘crush’. their eyes pleaded and begging him to not spill anything.

“what?” jaehyun flattened his lips that the corners curved inwards, a more confused look seen on him. yugyeom cupped his mouth to whisper, the dimpled man’s eyes grew and scurried off the campus.

chan propped his elbows as the man sat back on his seat. “‘gyeom, what did you tell him?”

“y/n gave a hint before she left, i doubted it first. but it made so much sense as to why she kept ditching our meet-ups-”

“get to the point!” the rest of them pressured him.

the blond haired boy only sighed. “i told jae that he might've drunk-kissed y/n.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the sun met its sleep and the night began with patches of rain sprinkling your window. cool rushes of wind entered the thin gaps which sent shivers down to your spine, you wrapped yourself more into the cardigan. you hated it when the weather changes. 

pacing back and forth of your apartment, you’ve had battles in your head that maybe it was best to tell jaehyun or maybe it was better to keep things this way before you had the confidence to do so. you yelled into the pillow to let all of your feelings out. it was too much for your heart to carry or continue. even if you did decide to tell him, how would you approach him? how would you begin the conversation?

you held your phone much tighter than before yugyeom sent a message that gotten your brows raising in millions of questions.

[19:03] yuggie: the boys and i will treat you lunch or any of your cravings! we promise! 🙏🏼

“cool. i won’t be touching my savings for a while!” you cheered, knuckles and fists closed at the good news. unbeknownst to you, the reason for their actions probably would be revealed at a later time.

whilst you waited for dinner to be delivered, you turned on netflix to binge some series you haven’t watched before. however, you paused the means of leisure because you felt lonely. your roommate was out of town, leaving you to care for the apartment for a couple of weeks. and you couldn’t call the rest of the boys because some had work while others were busy with gaming. you could join them, but the motion picture of the game just doesn’t work together with your sight. the weather was already making you sick and nauseous. might feel worse if you played. 

so you uninterestedly switched on the tv again, spent nth minutes into choosing but never really decided on one. 

the memory and experience from that night came flashing in your head. you remembered the touch of his plump lips, the mixed smell of perfume and alcohol, his large hands wrapping your arm and the universe in his twinkling eyes. indeed you liked him a lot, and were thankful that your friends kept it a secret. if the truth came out, you wouldn’t know what else to do.

ding dong!

you stood fumbling with your purse, assured that maybe the pizza guy could wait a little, except it wasn’t who you thought it’d be. the door revealed jaehyun, soaked with an embarrassed smile. “hi?” he greeted, the rain drenched his clothes to the skin and his hair laid flat on his porcelain forehead. “i was about to call but-”

he was pulled in immediately, your hands on his wrists as the water bead droplets wet the wooden floor. “what are you doing in rain?!” you hissed, grabbing new towels for him to dry.

“i didn’t bring an umbrella and the sky just-”

“i thought i was reckless to leave the window open but you’re actually more reckless-”

“i have something to tell you.” he let the towel hung around his neck. there was something in his eyes that you somehow.. knew what he meant by that, so you decided to deal with yugyeom later. “i-”

“pizza delivery!” the guy said, making you and jaehyun turn to the still opened door.

you sighed heavily, why is there always one interrupting the other?

once everything was settled, he walked further into your home and removed his shirt that revealed a rather toned and refined abs. he took a new tee from a laundry basket fresh out from the wash that was exclusive for the boys in case of emergencies. you took care of actual babies.

you were now with him seated around the coffee table, unpacking the side dishes and drinks. “join me for dinner. i don’t think i can finish all this in one go.” you took extra ketchup from the cupboard. 

“wasn’t why i came here for but thanks y/n.” he smiled widely at the food laid out in front of him. 

that statement alone made you stop what you were doing. “why did you come here?” your eyes looked everywhere but him. unconsciously you bit your lip not because the guy you like was here, but because the kiss flashed in your mind again. 

jaehyun saw your action and scooted closer, the centimeters between you both lessening. “it can’t be a mistake, can it?” his voice was soft, with a hint of regret and worry at every uttered word. he eyed you from yours to your now wavering lips. “did i.. perhaps steal your first kiss?”

no words were needed to be said as to jaehyun, your actions and silence already said enough. you wanted to scream as the awkward air and your speechlessness was very unintentional. you wanted to talk, yet you couldn’t for who knew the reasons why. 

“i’ll take that as a yes.” he chuckled, stopping quickly afterwards at your fidgety state. “did i look that drunk?”

now it was you who let out an awkward chuckle. “so you don’t remember what happened that night?”

a warm tone of his hums prolonged the more the thought deeper. “not that i know of.. all i remember was being in the club with the dudes.” 

the rain poured heavier and it was uncertain when it would stop. thunderstorms were heard along with the patters of the droplets. jaehyun felt lucky enough that he came right before the weather turn worse. he let out a sigh of relief, but the relief of doing something unimaginable to you hasn’t lifted off of his chest. in fact, he didn’t know exactly why he felt more nervous than before when he shouldn’t be because it was just you.

yet, it was nervous because it was you.

the girl who managed to make his heart flutter at random times with your big laughs you weren’t ashamed of; the girl who rather hangs out with guys since you said there just too much drama with the ladies. but has a handful gems in her circle. and most of all, you were the girl he somehow wanted a girlfriend to be.

“stay tonight.” your words jolted him out from his thoughts while you moved the curtain aside to observe the rain. “it’s not gonna stop.”

“oh.” he muttered, internally cursing himself for interpreting you wrongly. “sorry for the bother.”

you handed him a slice of pizza, already devouring yours. “that was my first kiss.” he heard you began the topic he thought was long forgotten. “but i’m somehow glad it was you.”

“why?” he munched on his slice, anticipation was leading him on the more he waited for an answer. stupid stupid heart, he told himself.

should i say it or should i not? you thought. the thing was, he was here. the opportunity was already given and if you chose to confess later, it would be more awkward. screw it, i’m confessing. 

with uncertainty and slight fear, you exhaled. “because i like you a lot.” you said, now turning away due to heat spreading your cheeks. “a lot more than i like captain america- i mean chris evans.”

he dropped his food onto his plate, lips forming a pressed smile but he remained his composure knowing that he would probably lose control any second. jaehyun tapped on your shoulders, making you turn to him. “is that so? then i’m glad i didn’t remember the kiss.” his voice low and lovely. 

you tilted your head without seeing his red ears. “what do you mean?”

jaehyun, without hesitations, leaned forward and cupped your jaw. the warmth of his lips onto yours was warmer than the food in your hand. he let go of you, planting boop on your nose.

“‘cause i wanna remember kissing you when i’m sober. i like you a lot too.”

[sooibian]

Tempting Fate (I)

@is-that-baekhyuns-shirt​ thank you, thank you, thank you for this beautiful poster!

Chapters: One | Two

Pairing: Minseok x You x Kyungsoo

Description: You’re forced to make a choice between a present that you didn’t choose and the idea of what could have been.

Themes: Angst, Exes!AU, Arranged Marriage!AU

Warnings: Strong language, indicative of emotional infidelity

Word Count: 3.7k +

A/N: Writing in quarantine hasn’t been easy so this is me trying to get back into writing by channeling all the rainy day melancholia into an angst piece. A huge thank you to @fightoh​ who inspired this Kyungsoo. I love you, Melissa! ^_^

We’re looking at a two-shot here, so lemme know if you’d like to be tagged for the update :)

________________________________________________________________

‘Settle down’

You often mulled over your father’s words of advice. This was one of the very few he’d cared to vocalize a little over a year ago. Settle down - as if you were an inanimate object devoid of any thoughts or feelings. As if you were lifeless. There was an undeniable ounce of truth in that, though. 

He had left you lifeless, cold, and pathetic.

So you settled. 

Gradually sank under the weight of the very same thoughts and feelings you were not supposed to have. Especially not after, as your step-mother had so eloquently put it, you’d spread your legs for the spawn of Satan. 

These questionable archaic edifices threw you back by decades, centuries even. You’d started to loathe them all - your parents, the society and to a large extent, your own self. Either way, you did what you were asked. 

Like dust, you settled.

The buzz of your phone alerted you of a meeting that was scheduled thirteen minutes from now. Twirling the cup of long gone cold coffee, you took some time to compose yourself. Ten minutes. Taking a huge gulp of the bitter liquid, you proceeded to head out of the cafe. 

“Hello”, said the man who accidentally bumped into you on your way out.

The sound of his voice could sweep you over with a wave of recognition even in your most unresponsive state. Dreading, you looked up to meet his eyes. The same big, brown eyes you’d once have endless conversations with. The very same eyes that saw you for who you were. The eyes that had already started to say the things you weren’t emotionally equipped to hear. 

“Hi”, he exhaled. You were enchanted by the way his lips moved. Flushed and soft, with a subtle pout. Plush and voracious they’d once felt on your skin.

He looked exactly like you’d remembered him. Soft brown hair fell in shaggy bangs across his forehead. A black shirt over ripped denims that outlined his lean frame and his right wrist wrapped in dark beaded bracelets. Your gaze dropped and stayed fixed on his combat boots, as you fought back tears.

Your phone chimed. Seven minutes.

Kyungsoo’s lingering gaze saw you out of the cafe.

.

.

.

“How was your day?” your husband asked, in the trademark gentle tone he’d use with you.

Dinner table conversations with Minseok were cumbersome. They felt heavily rehearsed and unnatural. You usually had polite responses and courteous questions to subdue the pressing silence that filled up any space Minseok and you inhabited. But tonight was you felt pushed to the wall. You felt hollow and rigid. 

A dazed stupor had steered you through the day after the man who’d splintered your heart had chosen to resurface after two years. The very same man because of whom you weren’t the wife Kim Minseok truly deserved.

This wasn’t exactly the dinner table conversation you'd ever pictured having with your ever so sweet and kind husband. 

“Nothing out of the ordinary”, you smiled, “did you manage to get Yang Ho Sung on board for the expansion?”

“Not to jump the gun but we might be able to lock in his signatures come Monday”, a pleased Minseok flashed his toothy grin. 

“Not to jump the gun but congratulations!”

He chuckled, “If all goes well, I might have to fly out to Hong Kong. You know, raise capital...move funds...”

‘Raise capital, move funds’ was a part of your job description as Financial Controller, not the Head of Strategy's. Hong Kong was where the Company’s Head Office was situated. It was also where both of your parents had taken permanent residency. It was a place both you and Minseok frequented and for most part it meant bothersome soirees (generously sprinkled with intrusive questions) with his side of the family as well as yours. And anyone with a pair of functional eyes could spot trouble in paradise. So you were glad as you were grateful that you didn’t have to do much to dodge this trip. 

It was almost as if Minseok read your thoughts, “You’re working on the Nakamuras’ merger project and it didn’t feel right pushing this expansion onto your already full plate.”

Pursing your lips into a slight smile, you nodded in agreement.

.

.

.

The day of Minseok’s flight to Hong Kong found you seated across from Kyungsoo at the very same godforsaken cafe.

“How have you been?”, he asked plainly. 

Devoid of expression, your eyes bore into his as you clutched the teacup closer to your person, the rock on your finger conveniently on display.

“You mean after you suddenly disappeared? All things considered, peachy.”

His jaw tightened, “Don’t be like that.” What should’ve been a plea, came across as an audacious command.

“Why are you back, anyway?” You hated sounding like a jilted past lover straight out of a soap opera but you felt exactly like one.

“Because you deserve the truth”, brows furrowed and voice down to a whisper, he leaned in closer.

“I deserve much more than just the truth!” You were seething with anger.

“Let’s start with the truth first.”

“Okay”, you squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head, “this attitude is quite brazen, don’t you think?”

His hands landed on the coffee table in a soft thump, and spoke as if he were spelling out every word for you, “You’re clearly not ready for this conversation so call me when you are, yeah?”

“Go fuck yourself, Doh Kyungsoo”, grabbing your purse you dashed out of the cafe as angry tears streamed down your cheeks.

.

.

.

Locking away every vicious little memory of Kyungsoo in the farthest corner of your mind, you went about your mundane, monochromatic life until unsubtle baby pink and powder blue onesies peeked out of Minseok’s luggage as you helped him unpack.

“Just Mother being over enthusiastic, that’s all…I’m sorry...”, his face flushed as he yanked the Harrods bag out of your hand and hastily dumped it in his closet.

If only she knew that your hostile home environment wasn’t conducive to...reproduction.

“I know my face looked a little puffy during our last video call but that doesn’t mean I’m...”, you said quietly.

“I know, I know...I’m sorry, she shouldn’t have.. I had half a mind to...to discard them or... give these away to Ho Sung considering, you know, his wife’s expecting but I couldn’t...aish...I think I’ll go take a shower.” 

Averting your gaze, he rummaged for fresh towels in his closet.

“Minseok”, you gingerly sat down on the edge of the bed feeling guilty for having put him in a spot.

“Hmm”, his voice sounded shaky.

“Minseok”, your grip on the sheets tightened as you chewed the insides of your cheeks, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Scratching the back of his neck, he turned around to look at you. The upward curl of his lips didn’t meet his eyes. He knelt before you and took your icy hand in the cozy warmth of his. 

His hands were always so, so soft and warm, yet so firm and steady.

Bringing the ring on your finger to his gentle lips he whispered, “I know.”

.

.

.

His incessant phone calls and messages coupled with your unbridled desire to understand the reasoning behind that one decision that steered your life onto a downward slope was why you agreed to see Kyungsoo again.

“Is ‘How have you been?’ still out of bounds or...”

Kyungsoo chose wisely with this quaint little overpriced Italian restaurant. There was no way either of you’d end up creating a scene here.

“It is not and I've been well. You?”, you ask civilly, twirling spaghetti on your fork. 

“I left because - ”, he started.

“Diving right into it, I see.”

Leaning back into his chair, he let out an exasperated sigh, “Would you please?"

“Okay. Go on...explain what good reason you had to turn my world upside down, Kyungsoo.”

“Thank you. Remember my art gallery?”, Kyungsoo asked.

How could you ever forget! It's what your step-mother used to attack with you every chance she got. Wayfaring, college dropout Kyungsoo's mildly successful upscale art gallery in Gangnam.

You nodded curtly in response.

“Dad handled everything...right from the actual sourcing process of art pieces to the finances. Although it was my business, I was simply a curator. You of all people should know how our parents like to meddle.”

“Kyungsoo, what's your point?”

“He apparently used the art pieces to launder money. And before NTS could get a whiff of it we had to go underground - I had to go underground. So he declared business bankruptcy, salvaged whatever little he could after NTS got their fair share of it, obviously and we went off the grid. Only recently we were made aware  that all of our other Companies have been cleared off defaults - Dad pulled some strings to make that happen - but all of this is behind us now.”, Kyungsoo’s eyes enlarged as he chewed on his lower lip anticipating your response.

“Well, you could’ve called.”, you sipped Riesling to steady yourself.

“We could’ve been tracked, love!” 

Feeling yourself disintegrate at the way that term of endearment rolled off his tongue, you pressed a napkin to your lips.

“What is it that you want now, Kyungsoo? I’m married - it’s all over!”, your voice quivered as you tried to reason with him as softly as you could.

“It’s not! It’s not over! Kim Minseok isn’t the man you chose -- this isn’t the life you chose! You didn’t escape my mind once in these last two years, baby...my hands were tied! Please understand, there was nothing I could've done. But I’m here now and I’m not leaving.”

.

.

.

The picture frame in your secret possession remembered Minseok as a portly little lad in a penguin onesie. 

Him in his mother’s arms and you, an infant, in yours. Your mothers had been childhood friends, thick as thieves but the only memory you had of Minseok was this picture frame from the scenic Guri, where you spent the first five years of your life - until your mother passed and your father spiralled into despair. Minseok’s mother took pity and urged her husband to offer your father a position in the Seoul branch of his company. 

The job paid well since Mr. Kim’s company was flourishing. Your father immersed himself into work leaving you with sitters for most part of your childhood. He successfully managed to add a chip-making division to the already thriving semiconductor line making SK Group the largest memory chip-maker in Asia thus elevating him to a Keyperson’s position. In his forties, he found himself a botoxed, gold digging beauty to marry and lived his life forever indebted to Mr. Kim.

So when the conglomerate’s matriarch proposed an alliance between you and Minseok, your father couldn’t refuse.

The alliance came a year after Kyungsoo disappeared.

Doh Kyungsoo. Your first love. The only one who’d stood by you when your own father couldn’t care less. You’d met him in your sophomore year at the University where he studied Archeology and Art History and you, Business Administration.

You had little to no memory of the night Kyungsoo played your knight in shining armour on Baekhyun’s bar hopping 21st birthday. You were drunk out of your wits. And when a sicko tried to take advantage of it, Kyungsoo stepped in. He drove you home, tucked you in bed and even brought you Haejangguk the next morning.

You’d managed to tame the beast according to Baekhyun but the truth was it was Kyungsoo who saved you from your dreary life. He brought out your exuberance and ferocity. 

You ditched the pastels in your wardrobe for radical florals, the straight black hair, now an untamed, red tempest and modest little diamonds in your ears replaced by the dazzle of the glittering galaxy.

Your grades declined meteorically as you painted the town red with him on his Motorrad and come senior year he recklessly dropped out of college. That’s when things started going south for the both of you.

After a failed acting stint, he dabbled aimlessly in Seoul’s art scene. You didn’t greatly approve of his life choices, especially these major shifts which were solely his decision since he hadn’t bothered to consult you once. You, on the other hand, picked up pace academically and after graduation, Mr. Kim’s conglomerate took you under its wing - just as planned.

You tried to be there for Kyungsoo during this "phase" of his which lasted well over two years but he kept pushing you away. Until finally, with the help of his father, he set up his own art gallery in Seoul. It didn’t create a lot of buzz at first but it brought a welcome change within Kyungsoo. He was focused, driven and tried to make the best of the opportunity. 

Both of your careers kept you busy and you slowly began to drift apart. Petty fights and misunderstandings only deepened the cracks in your relationship and Kyungsoo, being a man of few words that he was, didn’t help the situation.

You both did and said things you shouldn’t have and all that should have been said was left unspoken. Often you even decided to part ways but every other night found you in each other’s arms. Come morning, the very same issues would resurface. 

But you both tried. Tried to make it work through the tears and the pain for the thing called love. You’d both been inseparable for four years now and this was nothing but a minor roadblock.

And when things finally started to look up, he left without a goodbye.

.

.

.

Minseok looked nothing like the toddler you’d remembered him to be except for his striking angular eyes. He was lean, suave, well mannered, albeit slightly awkward (you didn’t blame him considering the blind date setting) and definitely deserved a better wife than you. He shyly complimented your neutral beige flare dress and you both shared the rosy bits about your life.

His father had decided against giving him a directorial position on a platter so he’d worked his way up from Assistant Manager, Sales to freshly anointed Head of Strategy and you were working towards a better position in Finance. 

Minseok was, plainly put, nice. Very much unlike the broody, flighty, reckless Kyungsoo you’d known and loved all these years. But Kyungsoo was a distant memory and Minseok looked like someone who was married to his work. 

All things considered, you believed you could make this arrangement - that was your marriage with Minseok - last.

.

.

.

The expansion kept Minseok busier than usual while you were busy plotting away with Kyungsoo - looking for ways to get back with your first love and break the news to Minseok in the gentlest way possible. 

“Ripping the bandaid off is the only way forward”, Kyungsoo suggested, helping you with a generous serving of kimchi stew.

His studio apartment was a stone throw away from your workplace. So you took an extended lunch break to see him in the privacy of his house. You felt a tinge of guilt at the frequency of your rendezvous but you let your heart have it’s way. As much as you hated the predicament his reappearance had put you in, his presence made you feel alive again. You no longer dreaded the morning alarm, the commute to work or even work itself. You had something to look forward to everyday - you had him to look forward to everyday.

“Hello?”, he interrupted your train of thought.

“Hmm?”, you looked up from your bowl.

He chuckled, “Nothing’s changed...” making you eye him questioningly.

“You still space out a lot”, he said, scrunching his nose affectionately.

Guilt weighed heavier.

You smiled, “No, it’s just that - there’s so much at stake Kyungsoo. I don’t think I can just rip off the bandaid.”

“Higher the risk...”, his eyes widened in an attempt to convince you.

“I know...but...he’s a nice guy and --”, you fought back tears.

“Run away with me?”

“Kyungsoo!”

“I’m sorry”, he muttered.

“Did you find a new place for the art gallery?”

“Mhmm”, he avoided your eyes, “just off Samcheong-ro.”

“Kyungsoo, this is huge! Samcheong-ro is the heart of the art scene!”

He smiled, “And this time around I’m working with people I can trust.”

Putting your hand on his arm, you squeezed it lightly. Nodding you said, “I’m really, really happy for you.”

He sighed, “Listen I’m sorry about earlier...I didn’t intend to rush you, I’ll be patient...I love you.”

You couldn’t say it back.

.

.

.

“Minseok, the Nakamuras accepted our offer”, you started with some happy news.

His feline eyes widened in astonishment and his shoulders went up as he pursed his lips to contain a big smile, “Really?”

You nodded.

“This means a hell lot of more work for you”, he chuckled, “but it’s a huge reason to celebrate! Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow?”

In your one year of marriage, Minseok had made this offer only a handful of times.

“Sure”, you smiled, “I was thinking of a weekend trip to Jeju. You know, clear my head?”

“Ah! Of course, anything you need. Will you be travelling alone?”

“Yeah”, you lied through your teeth.

Looking mildly dejected, he forced a grin, “You deserve the break.”

.

.

.

You woke up well before the break of dawn, not nearly as enthusiastic about the seaside getaway as you’d been when you’d planned it with Kyungsoo. Nevertheless, you went on to physically and mentally ready yourself for your flight at noon.

Minseok, an early riser by habit, was still in bed at half past eight.

“Minseok?” 

You leaned over his asleep form but nothing. So you put an arm on his shoulder and tried to lightly shake him awake only to receive a muffled groan in response. A hand on his sweaty forehead confirmed your suspicions.

Without giving it a second thought, you texted Kyungsoo, called off the trip and to avoid the inconvenient onslaught of questions, turned your phone off. Feeling an overwhelming sense of concern, laced with guilt and anxiety, you shook Minseok awake.

“You’re burning up!”, panic struck, you nearly yelled at your groggy husband.

“I don’t feel so well… Please call Soo-ah, she’ll take care of me. What’s the time? Have you called yourself a cab?”, Minseok spoke in laborious gasps.

“There’s no need to call Soo-ah”, you said, straightening the duvet, “I’m not going anywhere.”

To your utter surprise, Minseok did not, in any way, nudge you to carry on with your plans. Instead, he thanked you with a slight nod and a small smile. His gentle, cherubic smile made your heart skip a beat, it cooped you up in an inexplicable warmth.

To you, an uwell Minseok was uncharted territory and during the course of the day you realised he wasn't very different from a tantrum throwing infant. 

You started your day with committed the cardinal sin of denying him his morning cup of coffee.

“I’ll drink twice as much water to rehydrate!” He whined.

“Ugh! Don’t make this harder than it already is! I'm grasping at straws here!" You shouted from the kitchen while whipping up rice porridge for breakfast.

His protests against the mushy bowl for his first meal were comparatively milder, which was a welcome relief but your caffeine deprived husband sporadically kept shooting you snarky sideway glances. All hell broke loose when you had to nearly shove the acetaminophen pill in his mouth.

“Yah! Are you trying to kill me? This is fatal!”, he’d started talking in pouts now.

“Yah! Kim Minseok!”, annoyed, you glared at him.

A round-eyed Minseok stared at you in disbelief before quietly dry swallowing the pill.

The medicine was quick to act, stabilizing his temperature. So you asked your stickler for cleanliness husband to go take a quick shower but the man wouldn’t budge. 

“I want to stay in bed all day”, he smiled adorably.

“You’re not exactly smelling like fresh lilies right now, Minseok. Who’s to take care of you if I faint?”, you teased.

His face flushed as he begrudgingly stepped out of the comfort of his duvet. Grinning with glee, you proceeded to cook him chicken soup for lunch.

Lunch was awfully quiet.

“Did you not like the soup?”, you asked in mock concern. You were sure your comment from earlier was the reason for his mopey face since the fragrance of his cologne overpowered the aroma of your chicken soup.

“No, the soup’s just fine”, he deadpanned, making you chortle.

“You should fall ill more often, this is fun!”, you giggled.

A pink blush rose to his cheeks as he swirled the spoon in his bowl, “I agree.”

***

While Minseok napped, you prepped for dinner. The www suggested a light bean sprouts soup with a side of rice and kimchi.

“Shall we eat in front of the TV today?”, you asked Minseok.

“Sure! Anything you wanna watch?”, slumping into the sofa, he flipped over to the primetime news. 

You groaned.

“What? You love this anchor!”

“And how do you know that?”, you asked, slurping your soup.

“I follow you on Twitter, remember?”

“Hmm but I lack the cerebral capacity for this tonight”, you snatched the remote out of his hand and played The Running Man instead.

Yoo Jae-suk and Lee Kwang Soo’s antics left you in splits. Dinner ended with you sniffing water up your nose and an alarmed Minseok furiously thumping your back as you continued to giggle foolishly.

“I don’t remember the last time I laughed this hard”, you cried.

Minseok smiled awkwardly taking in your behaviour he wasn’t accustomed to, “Let me help you clean up...then I should probably head to bed.”

“Wait”, you floundered out of the couch, “just one more thing!”

“I swear I took the last dose when you weren’t looking!”

“I know that because I was looking!”, your voice carried from the kitchen.

“Here…. I’ve been too harsh with you today”, you offered him a slab of tiramisu making him almost jump out of his seat in delight.

“What’s this?”

“Your question is low-key offensive, Minseok!”

“No, I know, I mean...thank you. For everything.”, his lips curled in a sincere smile making your heart flutter.

***

For someone who holds his liquor well, flu medication made Minseok really drowsy, real quick. 

As you tucked him in bed, you switched your phone on with your numb fingers. It beeped furiously with a flurry of angry messages from Kyungsoo, making Minseok stir in his sleep.

“I’m sorry”, you whispered.

“I love you”, he mumbled in his sleep-befuddled state.

[kayycreatives]

Fyre Festival- how not to plan a festival

That’s right, my next project is to design the brand identity of an upcoming festival and what better way to start my research is on the most popular festival that never happened; Fyre Festival, to gain an insight on how to gain a wide audience to a festival no-one knew much about, but to also steer clear from the false hope and dreams they sold to their innocent customers.

‘the coolest party that you’d ever seen advertised’ was the most talked about drama on social media. With the hidden, main goal behind this festival was to promote and bring attention to the bigger brand of Fyre, being an app to typically book celebrities for your parties; an ‘uber for booking talent’. Many top models and artists were invited to this festival, with a real-life treasure hunt.

When planning a typical festival, you tend to focus on elements such as what artists will be playing, what type of food will be on offer, however in this case, they were selling a dream, concept, vacation. They were selling a vision of what people would want, to ‘escape reality’ for a few days. The only information the public had received was the location and the idea of a music festival.

Having around 10,000 attendees, they originally bought a private island owned by Pablo Escobar in Bahamas, Normans Cay for the festival in April. However, going against mentioning this to the public, they had lost this venue to the Great Exuma, Bahamas. This location was hazardous and needed a lot of work doing in a small amount of time, therefore took all the locals (around 200 people) to do hard labour, which in the end they never got paid :/. When searching for a location, I should consider if it fits the theme, indoors or out? The scale – is the location big and roomy enough for all the guests and activities taken place, but also the safety as a main concern.

There was no initial plan for the advertising and promotional video, other than inviting ten top models to the first island for a party including the co-founders, with the intention of them sharing their experience throughout their social media and by tagging the hashtag fyrefestival to bring awareness and most likely, free press. This was clever advertising as it created fomo on this unknown party as it looked like they had so much fun. Later on, they were to share blank orange screens, homage to the fyre brand, on their social media to get the public to join them on this festival. Within 48 hours, 95% of the tickets were sold. The buzz had also influenced brand sponsors to get their investments out of Coachella in exchange with Fyre. With my promotional video, I must make it clear of the vibe I am trying to showcase from my festival, but also the excitement and the experience that they will potentially gain from the activities and atmosphere.

They realised the festival was too much to pull off, they had tricked their customers by photoshopping the location to make out it was a deserted island. They oversold accommodation packages that didn’t even exist yet. They failed 250 influencers of a private villa on a beach that didn’t exist, in return from a promotional post on their social media accounts. There was no electricity, water, buildings, infrastructure – main necessities for their guests. They were selling things that they didn’t even have to sell, to the point they had nothing to update via social media, so they included snippets from the promotional content at the start of the campaign. P.s. DO NOT SELL FALSE DREAMS, moving on..

There were two sources of media to try and catch them out; a twitter account @fyrefraud and a website, FyreCay.com that recorded the developments of the festival and had discovered dome shaped tents which were leftovers from Hurricane Matthew – a far stretch from the luxury villa idea they had sold.

They were forced to send the message of not being such a luxury festival after all, withdrawing the original sketches of the rooms from the sites, which resulted in bad customer service as no one got to see the condition of their rooms which caused bad press on their social media and blocked comments. This considered, I must remember to include all the details such as the activity areas, facilities, eating areas down to the conditions of where they will be staying overnight if so, so that the guests acknowledge what they are really in for my festival.

To their luck, it had started to rainstorm the day before the launch of the festival, resulting in the tents destroyed with mud entering inside and soaked mattresses. But still the show had to go on… they arrived in economy style planes with crappy logos stuck on the exterior and upon arrival they were intelligently diverted to the restaurant for around six hours before they could attend the festival. Their luggage had arrived in multiple shipping containers in which they had to find there generic black suitcases from – causing typical theft and selfish acts of people stealing random items such as piles of pillows and toilet rolls from the island. Considering this, a basic right, I must ensure inclusivity such as restroom facilities, a decent area to camp to avoid a selfish and negative environment but maintain a peaceful and enjoyable experience to my paying guests as they deserve it!!

My initial reaction to the food was astonishing, there was a social media post of the most basic sandwich I have ever seen and had instantly trended on twitter.

For everyone that’s seen this documentary already, although I recommend that you should if not, but I felt so bad for the lady that had to singlehandedly cater for all the workers each day but also giving up for personal savings just to pay them back for all the hard work they did. Even though she was just part of the restaurant on the island and was involved with the festival in any other way :(

P.s. thanks if you read this far :)

Source: https://www.netflix.com/gb/title/81035279

[zuzuslastbraincell]

fun world-building facts about the eyeliner incident:

so the main canon divergence is that roku killed sozin, instead of just chilling in his cottage for ~50 years. he ended up leading a coalition force against him, in prep for civil war, although was able to bait him out to an erupting volcano and kill him at the age of 40 or 50 or so. roku then lived for another 100 years (hardly out of character for an avatar to do so).

roku went further, though, and after killing sozin, declared there would be no more fire lords in the avatar state. this split the fire nation into monarchists and anti-monarchists, essentially, and there was still a fair bit of civil unrest/war after sozin’s death because not everyone agreed.

a lot of monarchists ran off to the colonies after sozin was killed, to protect their assets, to protect their lives, as a place to hide out until the storm blew over (it did not blow over) and to regroup for a next assault (which did not succeed).

this was fine, until a second phase: roku wanted to give the radicals in his coalition a leading voice in the next government to be. a lot of people disagreed. in the colonies (many of which had officially been handed back to the earth kingdom), there were riots, lots of dissent, etc. amongst fire nationals.

when the north western earth kingdom became the site of resistance against radicals in the fire nation (as roku’s opposition to sozin was based on a coalition of liberal nobles and bureaucrats & emerging radical workers syndicates), a lot of monarchists & ultranationalists ended up emigrating with the initial wave of noble émigrés, and eventually, some of the more liberal nobles supporting roku turned against them as well. (this is also how roku’s youngest daughter, rina, who was married off to a sozin loyalist in a hostage situation organised by sozin, ends up in the earth kingdom - she and her husband defect, and initially support roku, but seeing the radicals that he is genuinely helping and supporting, they move to the earth kingdom). the reputation of this second wave depends on province - ex-soldiers are always hated, and the north west & regions in close proximity despise the fire nation, but the east & ba sing se has always been quite hospitable, & many have dual bases in ba sing se and the northwest. the ba sing se nobility, over time, mingle more and more with high profile fire nation émigrés who have property.

fire nationals in the earth kingdom are thus culturally different, usually, to fire nation citizens in the modern fire nation. more likely to be monarchists, more likely to hold sympathetic sentiment to azulon etc. (though most agree - publically - that sozin went too far, even if they think azulon should have his crown in private), and a lot of their styles of fashion, music, art, dance etc. is based on a lot of “antiquated” “old fashioned” fire nation traditions with some earth kingdom ideas mixed in. to fire nation residents, they just look at least 80 years out of date.

fire nation descendants in the earth kingdom are more likely to be involved with particular organised crime syndicates (the triads, as opposed to ones with other names). this is because after the war ended abruptly with sozin’s death, a lot ex-mercenaries and ex-soldiers stationed in the colonies/northwest began to find work/business through protection racketeering (in absence of organised govt. in the north-western earth kingdom). even in the modern day, the north west has problems with corruption, control, and is economically quite deprived despite having massive resources and that’s an after-effect of colonialism and attempts by the national government to ‘penalise’ the officials in that region for colluding with fire nation nationals/ex-colonists (very exasperating for genuine earth kingdom officials, and earth kingdom locals). roku did try and help the region but he’s generally disliked for lots of reasons & was trying to stop the fire nation from collapsing after supporting the radicals (a controversial decision!) and facing counter-revolutionary violence. i think roku felt like he neglected the fire nation for the earth kingdom in his youth and that’s why sozin was able to get as far as he did, so i think he made the very difficult decision to prioritise trying to sort out the fire nation. hence why yu dao is in a bit of a state. i imagine yu dao (republic city) is a big buzzing city but has those same problems with organised crime we see in lok.

the sozin dynasty, as azulon & his descendants are called, aren’t an exception to this involvement in organised crime. a lot of people were actually quite sympathetic to a young azulon after his father was killed at around the age of fifty or so, including fire nationals in the earth kingdom, but also the nobility in the earth kingdom, themselves staunch monarchists, who saw sozin as the problem and not the system of monarchy itself. all of this allowed azulon & his family to flee the caldera & manage to transfer a number of their assets with relative ease; they were never penniless, despite the sob story you might here.

azulon set up links with local businesses who were run by sympathisers, as well as organised crime syndicates, and through wise purchases, good advisors, & some savvy of his own, shifted from aristocracy to bourgeoisie with relative ease, & bought/negotiated their place at the negotiating table, to eventually come to be considered the lead stakeholder in those crime syndicates (with enough distance, though, as not to be suspicious). very much saved his name from being a laughing stock through his own ability there, but if you’d hear the story told, people who say that folks were deferential to him in part because of his lineage (sometimes, but not always true - the revolution had caused people to doubt).

regarding his sons, iroh had far more involved in organised crime and illegitimate business than ozai, who essentially looked after the more boring legitimate side of things (but took that role seriously and expanded it beyond being a simple front). iroh actually had a worse reputation up until azulon died, and was just considered a very competent but cut-throat political/business leader/general player with a lot of very very shady links that couldn’t quite be proven, but also like, was famously quite charming and well-liked in the high society ba sing se network. like, i want to be honest to show iroh here - he was bad! in the show, he was a war criminal! i mentioned he was a war profiteer (largely because ‘war criminal’ doesn’t make as much sense imo), and that was almost definitely regarding civil wars/coups that have been attempted in the fire nation & earth kingdom. this stopped when lu ten ended up being shot in the crossfire during a turf war and rather than pursuing a violent vendetta, iroh stepped out of the spotlight and let ozai take over the reigns more.

anyway, after zuko was burned for attempting to stand up to ozai, iroh basically faked his own death and completely ditched anything left of what he’d spent his life building in order to whisk zuko away and invent new identities for themselves in the fire nation (ironically) where they worked as tea shop workers (yes. li and mushi, still canon). i don’t think they live in the caldera, since cameras/photos mean it’s easier to be tracked, and zuko probably lives somewhere quiet-ish like ember island. zuko has a decent adolescence, considering, after he’s estranged. no “find the avatar” in this universe, for fairly obvious reasons.

i’m not an expert in organised crime by any means but hopefully this all makes sense. a lot of what azulon/iroh/ozai is doing, through the purchase of land, the control of business, the use of organised crime as an illicit form of govt. essentially is a form of colonisation, where the region is deprived due to fire nation business interests and in earth kingdom control in name only. corruption and close ties between ba sing se and fire nation émigrés mean that centralised govt is underfunding & turning a blind eye to it (which, in canon, ba sing se does, ‘no war in ba sing se’ etc.). most of the colonisation efforts are centred in the north-west, but azula is brought up in ba sing se given it’s far more reputable/prestigious, though she’s undoubtedly been to both places.

as for what’s happening in the fire nation, i feel like aesthetically it’s a little different - ba sing se is ancient buildings with sky trains, lots of urban sprawl & a very wide and endless city, whereas i imagine the caldera is a very tall city due to limited space available, more skyscrapers in the fire nation due to limits in islands. also, the fire nation has sea trains and submarine trains/tunnels, because. politically? haven’t quite decided but they’re some flavour of anarchist-communist (was reluctant to use that word in the fic itself because people have all kinds of interpretations of it, often very negative knee-jerk responses to it, but essentially: community-owned services and businesses and spaces instead of privately-owned ones, with egalitarian principles enshrined into the culture & identity now) over there if i’m honest, with lots of democratic councils. obviously i don’t think it’ll be perfect and i imagine ‘the national question’ is something that comes up a lot, with some difficulties between national & regional identity (imo the fire nation is very diverse, we see the sun warriors and then the sages who help korra in s2 are from different groups/cultures than the militaristic one that rose to prominence in the 100 year war and i hc a lot of that regional diversity was steamrolled for sozin’s imperialist project).

ANYWAY

there’s a reason i made this post on my main last week:

this is getting very long but hopefully this is some insight into what i’ve been thinking about when i made this AU

[readyfordeath151]

Candyman 2021

Just saw Candyman 2021 and figured I would post about it (btw there's a few spoilers)

For reference, the original Candyman is my second favorite movie of all time due to it's writing, score, and the atmosphere that it creates.

I think that overall the new movie was a good movie with a lot of ups and downs. To start with the things I liked, I really thought that the cinematography was gorgeous. A lot of the shots in the movie are really effective with their imagery such as the death of the art critic mirroring Anthony creating his 'Say my Name' piece. I think that this type of cinematography really carried the movie as it meant that the movie was very visually interesting the whole way through. With this being Nia DaCosta's second full-length film, I think it's very impressive that she was able to capture the story of Candyman in such a visually interesting way.

I also thought that the acting was really good, for the most part the characters were super consistent and sympathetic and you really felt for them throughout the movie. My favorite character was without a doubt Brianna because as an audience member you could reasonably understand everything she said and did and she was a very smart horror character who took minimal risks. I also really liked that you could tell how much she loved Anthony and how worried she was for him in the scene where she found his paintings which made the ending all the more impactful.

Finally, while I still like the Phillip Glass Score from the original better, I think this movie's score is excellent and really has this ominous droning quality to it that really creates this buzzing sensation in your head that's very effective in setting you up for a horror movie. The seemingly random rhythmic intervals lead the music to feel slightly off, especially for those who wouldn't be able to identify the difference in the rhythmic timing. This really leads to a truly unnerving experience when listening to the new score which carries an unsettling weight throughout the film.

Now for the things that I'm not the biggest fan of. I think that the themes explored within the script are very interesting and that the script has a lot of payoff when exploring these themes. I wish, however, that when discussing some topics it wasn't so clunky within the dialogue. Many people point out the first scene with Anthony and the discussion of gentrification as being clunky and I would have to agree. This example is particularly disappointing as there is a significantly more natural discussion of gentrification later in the film when Anthony is talking to the art critic. This discussion feels more justified than the first which honestly feels like a rundown of what gentrification is for audience members who are unaware. This issue is only present throughout a few scenes though and otherwise the dialogue is generally well-written

My other big problem with the film is how disjointed some things are within it. All of the scenes involving that teenage girl could have been completely cut out and nothing else in the movie would have changed. The scene where the teenage girls die honestly really took me out of the movie because it honestly felt like I had stepped out of this movie, which used horror elements to discuss aspects of the black experience in America, to any other slasher movie that cares more about cool kills than having an interesting, deeper message. Other aspects like Brianna's father killing himself also felt super disjointed because, although it was more intertwined within the story it didn't feel like it added anything that other elements of the movie could have provided.

My final big problem with the film was the ending. I know everyone talks about it but it really was one of the biggest issues of the film. First off, I did like parts of it. I think the moment when Anthony dies is heartbreaking and that the whole scene with Brianna in the car with the cop was fantastic with an amazing performance by Teyonah Parris. However, I think the rest is really odd and almost feels like it's the end of a different movie. William Burke really goes insane during the ending and while the performance by Colman Domingo is really effective and scary, I don't think that it really fits with his character of the storyteller, and it really comes out of left field. I also don't know why William felt the need to bring back Candyman when Candyman had been operating throughout most of this movie and had been killing people with no help from him. The ending felt pretty disjointed from the film as well, in the sense that I vaguely understood how we got from the film to the ending, but it also felt like I had skipped the last hour of buildup to this point. This led to the ending technically working but also feeling somewhat unfinished as I felt like I had missed something that would have led to this movie being wrapped up in a neat little bow.

Overall I'd have to say I enjoyed the film more than I didn't like it, even if I had more to say about my dislikes. I also liked a lot more things than I mentioned but I didn't want to write like a whole 5 page report on the movie. I'm really happy that Nia DaCosta was able to be the first black female director to have a movie open at number 1 and I can say that the movie deserves it. Even if I wished certain aspects of the movie were better I think that this is a project that Nia DaCosta and everyone else who worked on this film can be proud of, and I hope for more stories, especially in horror, that present first-hand perspectives on the difficulties that certain groups of people can experience in America.

[thecassadilla]

A Scarf to Keep Him Warm

Pairing: New Dream/Rapunzel x Eugene

Word Count: 1,754/AO3

Summary: Rapunzel decides to take matters into her own hands when she notices that Eugene doesn’t have any wintertime accessories.

Author’s Note: Hi again! I still hate fall, but I wrote another New Dream fic so yay! I was able to write about a skill that Rapunzel and I both share in this one - knitting! Although this is a modern!AU, Rapunzel is a skilled knitter just like she is in the movie. Writing this fic made me want to knit something even though I’ve devoted all of my time to writing these days lol. Anyway, enjoy!!!

In the years since she’d met him, Rapunzel learned a lot about the man known as Eugene Fitzherbert. From his meticulous hair styling and grooming routine, to the way he took his coffee, and everything in-between.

But the one thing that she couldn’t quite understand was his lack of preparedness for the colder seasons. A chill formed in the air, and while Rapunzel had added a hat, gloves, and a scarf to her outdoor ensemble, Eugene hadn’t added anything. He simply wore a black leather jacket, his hands buried deep in the pockets when they were outside for a prolonged period of time. 

The first winter they spent together, Rapunzel kept making the foolish assumption that he’d eventually add those missing pieces to his wardrobe. But soon, the air grew warm, and there was no longer a need for such accessories, and the assumption changed. Her new assumption was that he had a high tolerance for cold weather. Nonetheless, their pea coats and leather jackets were traded in for shorts and tank tops. 

But the seasons are cyclical, and autumn eventually returned. On one particularly brisk October morning, Rapunzel and Eugene sat at his kitchen table, discussing the rapid change of weather.

“Just yesterday it was sixty-five degrees!” he griped, setting two steaming mugs of coffee onto the table. “Today? It’s forty degrees! Should I break out the shovel just in case there’s an unexpected blizzard tomorrow?”

“Stranger things have happened,” Rapunzel shrugged, cradling the mug between her hands and relishing in its warmth.

“I’m getting really tired of the seasons,” he moaned. “I want to move somewhere where the seasons never change. Somewhere tropical and sunny. I hate cold weather.”

“I see,” she remarked, furrowing her eyebrows together and placing her mug back on the table. She leaned back in her chair, pondering what he had just said, before proceeding with her query. “How come you never wear anything that keeps you warm?”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t exactly wear clothing that keeps you warm during winter,” she explained. “I feel like if you wore a scarf or gloves, then the cold would be more tolerable.”

He sat still for a moment before answering, his face softening. “I never really had those things when I was growing up. So I guess I never really thought about buying them as an adult?”

“Eugene,” she cooed, reaching out and taking his hands in her own. “That’s awful. No wonder why you can’t stand the changing seasons - you suffer every time you go outside because you’re cold.”

“It’s really not a big deal, Sunshine,” he promised, averting his eyes. He was trying to downplay the situation. “I’m used to it. I’ll survive this winter, just like I survived the past twenty-three winters: with a bit of complaining, and my trusty old leather jacket.”

Rapunzel was not satisfied with his response. Why would he want to continue to suffer when the solution was so simple? So, she decided it was time to take matters into her own hands. If he didn’t want to buy a scarf, she would make him one. It would be more expensive and labor-intensive than simply buying him a scarf, but it would be worth it.

Knitting was one of the many talents that she acquired, but never put to use. It wasn’t a particularly difficult hobby, and she was grateful that she’d finally be able to put her skills to work. The following day, she spent hours on the Internet, researching patterns and types of yarn before taking a trip to the craft store. She wandered for what felt like hours, picking up the supplies that she knew she needed - particularly, size eleven needles - and the supplies that she wanted. After consulting with the sales associate, and taking trips to a few other craft stores, she finally found the yarn she was looking for; skeins of dark grey cashmere. It would match his leather jacket, and it would be softer against his skin than wool. Finally satisfied, she returned home to her apartment and set off to work.

The pattern she chose was fairly simple, and nothing to fuss about; a simple two-by-two rib stitch pattern. She followed the pattern closely, casting on thirty-nine immaculate loops. Knit two, purl two, repeat. Row after row, she sat for hours under the soft glow of the floor lamp in her tiny, cozy living room. It was easy to keep going; her hands growing accustomed to the back and forth motion of the needles, and the constant pulling of the yarn. When she finally put the needles down and glanced at her cell phone, she realized exactly how much time had passed. Fifteen text messages from Eugene that had gone ignored. Instead of answering them she decided it would be easier to call him. He answered after a few rings.

“Hey, Sunshine,” he crooned, his voice low and gravelly.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“It’s alright,” he insisted, and he suddenly sounded much more awake than he did the minute before. “I dozed off on the couch. I’m glad you called, we didn’t get to talk much today.”

“Sorry about that,” she grimaced. “I was a little preoccupied.”

“No need to be sorry. You were busy.”

“I still should’ve checked in.”

“I’m just happy to hear your voice.” She could practically hear him smiling through the phone and she found herself blushing. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

“No,” she sighed, glancing down at the project in her lap. “I have plans after work. Tuesday for sure, though.”

“Okay,” he said, softly. “I think I’m gonna head off to bed now.”

“Same here. My eyes are starting to burn.”

“Goodnight, Sunshine. I love you.”

“I love you too,” she smiled. “Sleep well, Eugene.”

Though, instead of making it to her bedroom, she settled back into the chair and slept there, too tired to move.

When she got back from work the next day, she settled into the same routine. Knitting and purling under the glow of her lamp until she finally felt satisfied with the length of the scarf. She began to bind off, making sure that the edges were even and perfect. When she finished the very last stitch, she rolled her shoulders back, releasing the tension that had built up while she was working on her project. She stood up, dropped the needles onto the chair and brought the scarf over to the mirror. She draped it over her own shoulders and around her neck, trying to picture what it would look like on Eugene.

She eventually took it off, and gently folded it so it would easily fit into her oversized purse, as the best way to catch him off guard was to not put his gift in a gift bag. And for the rest of the evening, she twiddled her thumbs and hoped that the clock would move faster so she could finally give the scarf to him. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rapunzel was buzzing with excitement by the time she finally made it to Eugene’s apartment, and she knew that she wouldn’t be able to hide the scarf from him for long once she actually saw him. She knocked a few times before he answered.

He was already smiling when he opened the door. “Hey, Rapunzel.”

“Hi,” she said, walking into the tiny hallway. They shared a quick, but sweet ‘hello’ kiss before she shimmied out of her jacket and hung it on the coat rack. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

They had barely made it any further into his apartment before she nearly exploded with eagerness. “So, I have something for you,” she said, rocking back on her heels and clutching her purse in her hands. “Something I made.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded. “You have to close your eyes, though.”

“Okay,” he agreed, squeezing them shut.

“No peeking,” she warned.

He shook his head. “No peeking.”

Content with his promise, she reached into the bag and unraveled the scarf. Taking it in her hands, she dropped the purse on his coffee table and stepped closer to Eugene, balancing on her toes before loosely draping it around his neck. Her cold fingers gently brushed across his cheek as she created a single loop, adjusting it so each end of the scarf was even and flat against his chest. Smiling, she took a step back, satisfied with her work.

“Okay, you can open your eyes.”

He did as he was told, and his eyes immediately darted down to the unfamiliar object that had been placed around his neck. A small smile appeared on his face and he gingerly took one end of the scarf in his hands, admiring the soft texture and the perfect stitches.

“You made this? For me?” he asked, almost in disbelief.

She nodded, her own lips creeping upwards. “That’s why I couldn’t see you yesterday. I wanted to finish it.”

“I don’t know what to say, Rapunzel,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He couldn’t seem to peel his eyes away from her craftsmanship. “This is the most generous gift anyone has ever given me. Thank you.”

Before she could respond, he was pulling her into a hug, squeezing her as tightly as he could, and burying his face into her neck. “I didn’t want you to be cold this winter,” she explained.  

“I didn’t even know that you knew how to knit,” he remarked, his voice muffled.

“I never mentioned it. It’s been a long time since I knit anything.”

He finally pulled away enough to look at her face. “I still don’t know what to say. I’m in shock.”

“I’m just glad that you like it.”

“How could I not like it? It’s so beautiful and thoughtful.”

“I could make you gloves, too. And a hat, if you want. The only thing that I can’t make you is a sweater because of the sweater curse.”

He looked puzzled. “The sweater curse?”

“It’s an old superstition. If you knit your significant other a sweater before you’re married, then the relationship will end.”

“Don’t do that,” he laughed, waving his hands. “No curses here, please.”

“No curses,” she promised.

“Thank you again, Rapunzel. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“You shouldn’t have to suffer through the cold weather, and I wanted to make sure that you wouldn’t,” she smiled. “I’m just happy that you’re happy.”

Without any hesitation, he took her back in his arms, both of them as safe and warm as could be.

[jamielea81]

Just a Simple Lie

Chapter 3

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Description: Having worked on small independent films for the better part of a decade, your friend tells you about an opening for a script supervisor with a large studio. Wanting to advance your career, you apply and get an interview. The only downside, they prefer to hire crew who are married. It’s just a simple lie, right?

Warnings: Cursing and Drinking

Word Count: About 3,000

A/N: This story is simply for fun. I know nothing about the personal lives of the two actors in this series and mean no harm. I am also totally guessing regarding the studio talk. Comments, reblogs, and likes are always welcome. Tag list is open, please send me an ask.

Internal thoughts are in italics.

Read chapter 2 here

Another week on set had passed as quickly as the last. There weren’t any late night meetings with either leading man, which was fine by you. Sure, you had worked with both actors throughout the week, but mostly on set, or a quick drop by in your office.

Since set life was pretty busy, your social life was suffering quite a bit. You hadn’t seen Joanna since the weekend before you started with the studio and she was pretty pissed.

“I work for fucking Sony, Y/N, and I make time for your ass,” she said flatly in the phone.

“Well, you like my ass. I mean, it’s pretty nice if I do say so myself.”

“You’re lucky you’re funny,” she added.

“Mhm.”

“Anyway…I’m picking you up in an hour.”

“Jooo,” you whined. “Sleeping in my bed sounds better. I just want to be lazy and watch a movie.”

“Too bad. I haven’t seen my best friend in weeks and we need to catch up. Besides, I have news for you.”

“Alright, you’ve piqued my interest. See you soon loser.”

Crawling out of bed and shimming out of your sweats, you dragged yourself into the bathroom to take a shower. Joanna’s idea of getting together usually involved alcohol, so you at least needed to look presentable.

Slipping on a cotton white dress with navy stripes and a pair of short brown boots, you called it good. The dress was comfortable and cute without much effort. You kept your makeup light, not only because you were feeling lazy, even after a long shower, but also because you were short on time. Running a quick hand through your hair a couple of times, your phone was buzzing with text messages.

Jo: I’m here!!!!

You let out a chuckle at her enthusiasm and tossed your phone in your bag.

 Joanna parked her SUV on the side of a street that was lined with boutique shops. It definitely wasn’t your normal area to drink or even shop, but who were you to argue? With work being as busy as it was and not to mention being the new girl, you had been pretty distant as of late.

“I just want to pop into this shop really quick, then we’ll grab some tea afterwards,” Joanna said.

Tea?

The two of you enter a cozy shop that you didn’t catch the name of as it was etched in the glass with curly letters. Your tired mind couldn’t decipher quite what it said. Inside is cozy whites, pinks, blues, and yellows. Your mind finally catches up when you see a row of baby strollers.

We’re in a baby store?

Joanna floats around the shop, squeezing stuffed animals, burp clothes, and blankets. Pretty much everything with texture. You follow behind her like a puppy, wondering why she needs to pick up something here. She eventually stops her searching at a table full of onesies. She picks up two, one in each hand. They are both white in color, but one has a giraffe on it while the other has a bunny.

“Okay. What gives?” you ask.

Still holding the onesies in both hands, she looks at you with wide eyes. “What?” she asks playfully.

Her eyes give her away and you can tell she’s messing with you. Raising your eyes brows in return, you cross your arms and pop a hip out.

“I probably shouldn’t say anything because it’s really early, but you’re my best friend and I need to tell someone.” She pauses for a moment and again your tired mind is just not following. “I’m pregnant!” she squeals. She drops the onesies on the table and shakes her hands in the air.

You stare at her contemplating what she just said. Pregnant. The word sounds funny in your mouth.

“Oh my god. You’re pregnant? You’re pregnant!”

She chuckles at your enthusiasm as you start to jump up and down. You pull her into a hug and then pull back slightly, not wanting to hurt her.

“You can’t break me,” she said.

“Shush,” you say, and pull her back in your arms. “Guess I’ll need to find new friends to drink with.”

Joanna smacks you on the butt. “Someone needs to drink with Ian.”

 Filming was on schedule which was surprising. Generally, a film of this size would be behind, especially early in the shooting schedule. Granted, this was the largest project you had been a part of. Credit was due to the awesome director. He was amazing at communication with everyone including you. He often asked for your notes between scenes and sought out both Monica’s and your opinions. Both Chris and Keanu were amazing, often getting the scene with one to two takes. There were only seven more shooting days before a week and a half break, then off to the cold of Vancouver.

 Your cellphone buzzed with a text, but that was nothing new between Monica, David, and the writing staff calling or texting all the time. Pushing away your laptop, you picked up the phone from your desk and leaned back in your chair.

Unknown number: Chocolate chip or peanut butter

“What?” you mumbled to yourself.

Y/N: Who is this?

Before you can even set your phone down, it buzzes again.

Unknow number: Just answer the question

“Who the fuck is this?” Apparently talking to yourself was your new thing.

Y/N: I need context here mysterious one.

Y/N: Ice cream, cookies, protein bars?

Unknown number: Cookies, obviously. This is serious.

You sighed and decided to play along with the dealer of sweet treats.

Y/N: Chocolate chip of course. But if frosted sugar cookies come into play, that wins.

Your phone rang not a second later with the unknown number.

“Hello?” you said.

“Sugar cookies?! Y/N, come on. No. Just no.”

“Who is this?”

“Chris,” he said.

“Chris...?”

“Seriously?” he questions. “Evans.”

“Oh fuck. Sorry. I’m sorry Chris.”

“You should be. Sugar cookies,” he scoffed. “Come on!”

You let out a giggle. “I like what I like.”

“So, chocolate chip?” he questions.

“Yeah. What are you up to anyway?”

I’m stealing a box from Craft Services,” he says it like it’s something he always does. Like it’s just normal to call you up and ask what you like.

“Okay,” you sigh. “Next question.”

“Shoot.”

“How’d you get my number?”

“I asked Monica. Figured you wouldn’t mind.”

This was something you had to get used to apparently. Chris Evans has your number and you now have his too. Not that you would call him.

You hummed in response.

“See you soon,” he said before disconnecting the call.

Chris is coming to your office. No big deal, he’s been here before, on your first day and one other time. This is fine. You can be normal.

You straightened up your small office. There wasn’t much to clean. Mr. Fern was thriving, although you’d have to find a babysitter for him when you were in Canada. You had no pictures or artwork on your walls, but you did have a framed photo of your friend group sitting on your desk, along with a jar of pens in various colors and styles. There were three sizes of notepads, one in a beautiful rose tone with thick aged looking paper. The other two were lined like the type you would use in school. You were a minimalist at work, what could you say?

Twenty minutes later there’s a knock at your door.

“It’s open,” you shout, just loud enough for the person to hear.

You knew Chris would be coming by, so you had time to mentally prepare, but he still makes you a little nervous. The man is attractive and he’s so personable. You’re nervous with Keanu too, but he’s so much more serious. When the two of you do chat, which isn’t a lot, it’s about national issues, who’s your favorite poet, have you tried this or that brand of green label coffee? Okay, that last one is pretty low key, but still.

 “I bring peace and good tidings, but most importantly cookies.” Huge grin on his face.

In his hand, wrapped in a napkin, are three chocolate chip cookies. His hand is outstretched for you to take the cookies, but you don’t. Eyes looking from his hand to his face and back again.

“This isn’t a box of cookies. I expected a box of cookies.” You shake your head for added effect. “And not even a frosted sugar cookie insight.”

“Sugar cookie,” he says with such disgust. “Y/N. I brought you chocolate. You should be thanking me!”

The smart ass in you, despite the newness with him, can’t help but come out.

“You can leave them there,” you say pointing to a free space on your desk. Eyes fixed on your laptop, not bothering him a glance.

He huffs out a laugh and plops himself down on the extra stationary chair next to your desk. He sets the cookies down, but picks one back up and takes a large bite out of it.

You swivel in your chair to face him and roll your eyes. “Aren’t those mine?”

“You complained.” He shrugs his shoulders taking a second bite.

Rolling your eyes, you turn back to your laptop.

“This is new,” he said.

Sparing him a glance, he’s picked up your framed five by seven group shot. It’s from last New Year’s Eve. Jemma had just moved into a new apartment, free of her roommate from hell as she liked to call her. You all brought booze and she invited a few guys she knew and some ladies from her work. It was a good time and you ended up crashing in her bathroom. It wasn’t the best night’s sleep you’ve had.

“Yeah, those are my best friends.” A smile appears on your face.

He smiles and nods his head, eyes scanning over the faces. “Who’s who?” He angles the photo so that you both can see.

“Well, this here, with her lips attached to my cheek, is my very best friend Joanna.” You let out a giggle and he grins. “Next to her is her husband Ian. The gorgeous blonde is Jemma. And that’s Travis.” You rush through the last one, remembering you told Chris your fiancé’s name was Travis. Maybe he forgot. Hopefully.

“Travis? As in your fiancé Travis?”

“Mhm.” Tight smile on your face.

Moving the picture closer to his face, he hums. “Good looking guy.”

“Yeah, he is,” you reply.

“Looks kind of young though.”

Really? He is, but why bring that up?

“Are you calling me old?” you scoff, fake agitation in your voice.

“What?! Of course not. You make a lovely couple. Really,” he pleads. A sincere smile on his face.

You quirk your mouth to the side and sputter out a laugh. “I’m just fucking with you.”

Quickly covering your mouth with your hand. Can you say fuck to him? It’s so unprofessional.

“Me and my mouth. Sorry,” you say, cringing slightly.

He erupts in a deep belly laugh, head thrown back, eyes closed.

“Oh, my fucking god. You can say fuck all you want around me,” he says through bouts of laughter.

You let out a breath and relax.

“That was hilarious,” he sighs, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Yeah. Real funny,” you reply. “But yes, Travis is a little bit younger than me.”

He holds up his hands defensively. “I promise I’m not calling you a cougar; he just seems young.”

Truthfully, Travis did seem younger than he was. He was the serious film student, but on weekends, he was the eternal frat boy. Even now, seven years later he’s pushing thirty, but you wouldn’t know it.

The next few days brought other unrequested sweet treats to your office. Chris no longer asked what you would like, instead he’d show up with something he thought you’d like, or rather what he liked. One day it was a cheese danish, then caramel corn, and finally a monster bar, which turned out to be a Rice Krispies Treat with extra marshmallows and M&Ms. You started to skip lunch knowing you’d be eating something very unhealthy. The two of you would keep the conversation light, generally about music or movies. You wondered if he was this friendly with other members of the crew.  

 Washing your hair six times had done nothing. Jemma had promised the new color product she picked up was just temporary, but clearly that had not been true. You had been Jemma’s guinea pig since the day you met her on set of one of the first movies you had worked on. She was a hair stylist and anytime she received a new product, she was trying it out on you. This time it was a semi-permanent purple hair dye. She had assured you it was more semi than permanent, but after washing it too many times, it had only slightly faded. Your only saving grace is the dye was only on the underside of your hair rather than your whole head as Jemma had wanted to do.

Walking into work was a little nerve wracking for you. In the industry, there is a plethora of personalities and styles, so purple hair isn’t out of the ordinary, but it was quite the change for you. You wore your hair the same way every day. You dressed modestly and comfortably. Sneakers were the norm. You saved skinny jeans and cute dresses for your days off. Stepping out in purple hair was saying something.

A few wolf whistles from David and a couple of guys who worked in set design, you made it to your office relatively unscathed.

Today’s scene would have you working side by side with Monica. Most days you were both on set, but usually not for long. The two of you had met in her office most of the day yesterday going over today’s big love scene between Chris’ character William and Maggie’s character Sophia. Chris was a professional and the few scenes that you had watched Maggie in were great. The two of you had no doubt they finish strong, no pun intended. Except you were wrong.

“Cut!” Hugh, the director called.

It was the fourth take and everyone was starting to realize it just wasn’t working. There were no problems with the lines and the actors were both following the stage directions, but something just wasn’t right. The chemistry was just off.

“Y/N.” Hugh called, motioning you over to him. “You know this script better than anyone. What’s missing?”

You let out a long sigh. “It’s the two of them together. Don’t get me wrong, they work well together, but I’m not getting romantic tones from the two of them right now.”

Chris was watching you. His brow furrowed; arms crossed. Maggie was getting her hair touched up. Passionate hair took a lot of work.

“Will you go talk to him please?” he asked.

You nodded, clutching your script, you walked to him. Maggie was now occupied with makeup and Monica was currently speaking to her.

Chris uncrossed his arms and quirked one side of his mouth up. “It’s not working is it?”

“M’fraid not,” you replied.

He nudged his head to the left and took a few steps away from the rest of the crew. “What do you suggest?”

“Well, frankly, you just don’t look like you love her. You barely look like you like her.”

He shrugged his shoulders and gestured with his hand for you to continue.

You licked your lips and moved in closer to him. Lifting up your script, you tapped on a section of the scene. “When it says William looks into Sophia’s eyes passionately, you need to look at her like she’s the one you’ve been waiting for your whole life. Like if you didn’t have her right now, in this moment, you wouldn’t be able to breathe. And when it says he grabs her, don’t grab her by her shoulders.” You looked up from the page to see Chris watching you. “What?” you questioned.

He shook his head and smiled. “Don’t grab her by her shoulders?”

You could feel heat in your cheeks. You looked back down at the script because you had to look away. Him and those fucking eyes. Are these lashes even real?

“Yeah, that comes off more as angry passion, but that’s not what their love story is about. How about you try it with one hand cupping her cheek and one hand on the back of her head? But like, um. But maybe cup her cheek first and brush your thumb against it as well. And with your other hand, slowly slide it to her neck before the kiss.”

He nods his head again, his eyes downcast, thinking it over. “Like this?” he asks.

Suddenly, his hand is on your cheek and he’s staring in your eyes, thumb lightly brushing below your eye. His other hand softly touches the crook of your neck and he ever so softly brushes it to the back of your neck as he starts to lean in. Goosebumps erupt down your arms and you thank the gods you’re wearing a sweatshirt at this very moment so he can’t see it.

“Is this good?” The deep timbers of his voice making you swoon.

You nod slowly, not wanting him to remove his hands at that moment. “Um,” you lick your lips again. “Uh, ye-yeah. That’s exactly what I mean.”

He removes his hand and gives you a gentle closed lipped smile. “I think I got it.” He starts to turn around but then stops and turns back to you again. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “This is cute by the way.”

You give him a smirk and shake your head. “Go!” Crossing your arm, he salutes you with one hand.

Maybe you wouldn’t kill Jemma after all.

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