#but like honestly that detail is NOT important enough to repeat what the film did when it would only make the protag both

[dreamgirledward]

in my rediscovery of the interview with a vampire series that's about to start airing, it's been hilarious watching people actually get red-faced, hand-wringing angry in online spaces about 'yet another remake that no one asked for' when in fact the 1994 movie theyre all claiming to be a 'perfect adaptation' was notoriously disliked by the author (tom cruise as lestat specifically jhkjdhsfjkg) and heavily criticized for removing the gay subtext TEXT laden throughout the original story. people angry about the change in the time period as well arent really understanding how poorly a sympathetic plantation owner living in 18th century louisiana would age nowadays (and how poorly they age period)... this is why i wish more people understood what kind of skill adapting something from page to screen is, that it's difficult and an art in its own right, when done well. think about jojo rabbit, a film adapted from a novel that's got a completely different tone compared to its source material, but still poignant and manages to deliver an enrapturing, endearing story dealing with extremely dark and sobering themes. sometimes it's literally not possible to adapt something word for word, and i think fans of the books should count themselves lucky that anne rice was involved in production until she passed. the thing with interview with a vampire however, aside from appropriately casting way more black actors in a setting that, let's be quite clear, was completely whitewashed in the film, is that it's telling a queer dramatic story. it's doing what the film was too scared to do, which is be SUPER GAY and the 1994 film was only 'great' or 'perfect' for all those people who thought they may have stood a chance with brad or tom (who in my opinion werent even well-cast!) 🤷🏻‍♀️

[lake-archive]

An Interrupting Kiss

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Fandom: Ensemble Stars

Characters: Ritsu Sakuma, Anja-Sophia 'Ann' Wolff (OC) 

Words: 1,018

Ritsu could not explain himself, not really at least. Though would he have bothered explaining himself at that moment? Well, if he was going to be completely honest… Maybe not. There would be no fun in that. He just decided this on a whim if he was completely honest. Then again, when was he not doing that? After all, surprises are very important to keep alive in a relationship, aren’t they? Or maybe that was just him searching for an excuse to mess with Ann a little bit, have her be flustered out of nowhere and become a stuttery, blushy mess. That was fun in its own right after all.

Though this time Ritsu may have taken it a little further than expected, more than anyone could have to be honest. It was not just the two of them inside the room after all, no. Needless to say, the office was filled with more than two people at the time. There was… Some other guy and needless to say said guy had interrupted the current conversation going on. And that was far from Ritsu’s liking. Sure, this was the workplace and all but… Something seemed off. A little too close? Maybe, perhaps for Ritsu’s own liking.

But what did Ann do about it? Not much, really. She was continuing to chat as well and seemed unbothered. Her excuse would obviously be ‘ This is something related to the upcoming filming project. We need to discuss this! ’ But interrupting when two people were busy here? Maybe that was what had gotten him a little peeved… A tiny bit, maybe. And yet, he was assured that it was not taking a long time.

Well, define long. This has been going on for more than ten minutes, surely. And it was not hard to figure out that Ritsu had been getting a little impatient here. Maybe he shouldn’t be but honestly… He didn’t care. He just wanted to interrupt the flow of this conversation, make it more than obvious that—

And that was where the idea had hit him, from one moment to the next. It was as if a light bulb had lit up in his head, a sudden idea. An idea which would throw caution out of the window but… Honestly, who didn’t know at this point? He didn’t bother hiding it and Ann herself was one of the worst liars there were. She has no poker face whatsoever. That only made it more fun but details.

So, to get her attention at least he poked her shoulder a few times. “Ann–Chan.” He even repeated over and over, as if he was a cat just craving for her attention. Actually, he may as well have started meowing while at it alongside each poke. Just for a full immersion’s sake. But this was good enough as well. No need to worry.

Though it took him a little longer than anticipated to get her attention and it was not just hers. But Ritsu was not going to pay attention to the guy anyway. He soon saw right into both of her eyes as she was asking: “Wh… What is it?”

Though no response, at least not verbally. He was just standing there, as if debating in his head… Or something like that. He didn’t have to debate in his head, not when the answer was right there. Not when they looked a little inviting, to say the least. Would it be sudden? Yes. But that was not important. He would make it quick anyways.

So, before she could get a word out he suddenly shot his head forward, lips touching. It may have been a short lived moment yet quick enough to have her stare at him, the redness undeniable. And, as if this was some type of competition, Ritsu turned his gaze to the other guy who was looking at the scene a little… Irritated, surprised even. More so when the young man grinned a little, unable to hold it back.

“Uhm… That…” The guy dared to speak up which was only met with a quick chuckle.

“Ah, sorry. I couldn’t help myself~” Ritsu claimed yet that one word was more than false… The sorry part. He wasn’t sorry, at all.

“Uhm… You want me to come back later or—”

“That’d be for the best. See ya~”

The guy only nodded before hurrying away. All while Ann had no say in this, trying to overcome the sudden shock before eyeing Ritsu, embarrassed yet also with a slightly sharp gaze. “Wh… What was that all of a sudden!?”

“No reason.” He shrugged, though not lying. It only left her to pout however, making his grin only grow a little wider. “Huuh~? Did you hate it?”

“Wha— N… No! It’s just… Well… Just…”

“Just?”

He had gotten a little closer, as if ready to go for the kill again. And maybe he was, maybe he was. Well, he was ready at the very least. All while she only got more flustered, turning her head away for a brief moment and stuttering. “Th… This was work related. You can’t just—”

“Ann–Chan, I think there’s no point in hiding it here.” He sighed, having taken note for some time now. Then again, not as if this had been a bad thing. “Besides, we were also talking. Or did you want to dismiss me like that earlier?”

“Ah— That’s not… It… You know… That…”

“Hmm… Do I? Maybe you need to prove it. I’m not so sure~” And yet, his playful tone betrayed him. He was just having a blast at this point, ever since that short kiss.

“N… Not sure!? Tha—”

“Or else… Here I go~”

“Wait wait wait! Tha—”

A sudden turn of events however. Well, that and Ritsu wanted to. Ann herself had not really resisted the temptation to begin with. This was not an unusual sight after all, the both of them being like this… Even if these moments became rarer, he couldn’t help himself at the end.

Messing with Ann was just too much fun to resist after all~

[wisteria-lodge]

Have you thought about sorting Catch Me If You Can? Not a recent movie, but I was rewatching it and there’s just a lot of snake secondary improv going on!

I love this movie. And I was ready to sit down and give it a clean bill of health - Frank Abagnale Jr is a Double Snake, easy, next. After all he is a con artist (the Double Snake archetype) and Neal Caffrey of White Collar, who is fanon Frank Abagnale Jr, is most definitely a Double Snake.

But I’m watching this movie, and I'm seeing a movie about secondaries. It’s a movie about method. BUT it likes its Built secondaries way more than Improvisational ones. In Catch Me If You Can, it’s not enough to be clever and brilliant and quick on your feet. The film is constantly asking - where is the foundation, where is the process, where is the prep work? If the foundations aren’t solid, the whole thing is going to inevitably come toppling down.

This is the anxiety of a Built secondary desperately modeling an Improvisational secondary, which is ultimately what I think is going on with Frank Abagnale Jr. The true Snake secondary is his father, Frank Abagnale Sr. He’s the shape changer, who can use his environment on the fly, who improvises stories and seems to love doing it. Frank Jr at his sneakiest is just modeling (or even performing) his father. At one point, Frank Sr does little move with a necklace in order to get a lady to do him a favor, and I get the impression that he just happened to have a necklace on him and thought this would work. But Frank Jr repeats exactly this move, preparing his necklaces in advance and using exactly the same wording each time. I see prepwork there, and I see Actor Bird.

Frank Jr has the Actor Bird love of costumes. He watches doctor and lawyer movies in order to prep those roles beforehand. He has a moment where he models himself after specifically James Bond, down to the exact suit and exact car. He likes multi-step plans, he likes decoys, he likes doing his research. He can definitely act like a snake secondary, and can even think like a snake secondary... but it’s stressful for him. He does it when he’s in a bad emotional place. And he’s doing it because he’s a young Snake Primary, trying to please his father through imitation.

When you really break it down, this is a movie about transitioning from an unreliable father to a better one. Because Carl Hanratty - the FBI agent who eventually catches Frank Abagnale and becomes his father figure in the process - now he is a Built secondary.

I actually did consider Lion secondary for Agent Hanratty, because he is defined by his inability to lie. He won’t do it. He has a very in-your-face, abrasive manner, and he is that way with everybody. BUT he doesn’t solve problems like a Lion secondary. He catches Frank because he does his homework, he works constantly and steadily, and he puts together a cohesive picture out of the tiny crumbs of information left behind. One of my favorite details is how Hanratty can tell if Frank has been somewhere recently, because he knows Frank has a nervous habit of picking the labels off of bottles. This isn’t even presented in a Sherlock-Holmes-Bird-secondary way. Hanratty isn’t making brilliant deductions, he’s just very diligent, and dedicated, and follows up on every single conceivable lead until one of them pans out. And that is SO Badger. Hanratty cares so deeply about his consistency of method that it gets an almost spiritual importance, so much so that he just kind of looks Lion. He also had a pretty loud Lion primary, and I think that helps. He is the only FBI agent in the film who takes his job deadly seriously.

Honestly, I think that’s why I love this movie so much. I housematch Hanratty, and just generally vibe with him. His badger secondary is both interesting and flattering, and framed extremely positively and comfortingly by the film. Hanratty’s inability to lie is what allows Frank Jr to adopt him as his new Person. Because in the end, Frank's not working for the FBI, he’s working for Carl Hanratty.

Catch Me If You Can keeps coming back to a story about two mice. ‘Two mice fall into a bucket of cream, one of the mice thinks it’s hopeless and quickly drowns, the other keeps swimming so long that he churns the cream into butter and is able to climb out.’ And that... is a story celebrating constant consistent effort without a reward in mind. It's a Badger story. Frank Sr tries to make it work as a Snake secondary story (if you commit to the lie hard enough and long enough you can make it real) but ultimately, his lies catch up with him. Frank Sr will also describe his methods by saying that “the Yankees always win because the other team is blinded by the pinstripes” (ie, distracted by the flash.) But both Frank Jr and Carl Hanratty question this, saying that the reason the Yankees always win is because they have Mickey Mantle. They win because they have the best player, so they’re built on a solid foundation.

The film ends with the revelation that Frank didn't cheat on the Louisiana Bar exam. He studied, and he passed. And that moment is treated as his redemption, because here is substance to Frank that the viewer can tell will make him a good fit at the FBI.

(Incidentally, although I’m not factoring this into my sorting, the real Frank Abagnale Jr comes off as really, really birdy. Definitely more a forger than a con artist, his book gets really technical about different types of paper, different inks, the relative difficulties of forging different identification documents, the intricacies of different countries’ extradition policies, all that fun stuff. He also definitely reads as a fairly unsympathetic Glory Hound Lion who matures over the course of the story. He works on anti-identity theft measures now, and more power to him.)

tl;dr

Frank Abagnale Jr - Snake primary / Bird secondary, Snake secondary model/performance that he borrows from his father. It’s effective, but using it stresses him out.

Frank Agagnale Sr - Badger primary I think, considering how enamored he is with joining clubs and maintaining his status in the community / Snake secondary

Special Agent Carl Hanratty - Lion primary / Badger secondary

BOUNUS - Frank Abagnale Jr (the actual person) - Lion primary / Bird secondary (and yeah, it’s pretty funny and very appropriate that Lion Bird is the Lawman/Vigilante sorting)

[snackhobi]

pairing: jimin x reader / word count: 8.8k / genre: smut, established relationship, driftracer!au

summary: Jimin’s been pretty busy recently and you’re starting to feel neglected. Guess you’ll just have to make him pay attention somehow.

warnings: sexually explicit content (NSFW), unsafe driving (back at it with the street racing), cursing, mild degradation, fingering, spanking, unprotected sex (it goes without saying but please use protection guys), creampie, controlled orgasm (delay), multiple orgasms (f receiving), dirty talk, pet names

THIS IS A FOLLOW UP TO ‘CATCH YOUR DRIFT’— please read the original first

a/n: to everyone who was asking about a cyd follow-up—here it is! it’s basically a pwp with the flimsiest of plots lmao. enjoy!! x

--

“Jimin's up to something.”

“Huh?” Jungkook looks away from where he’s been fiddling with something in the Pontiac’s engine. “What?”

“Jimin,” you repeat, slowly. “He’s up to something.”

Park Jimin. Breathtaking, captivating, gorgeous Park Jimin—unstoppable in his sleek black Nissan Skyline GTR, a master in his element, relentless, incredible. Your rival and main competitor on the track. The one person who challenges you, who you measure yourself against, who you always strive to beat.

Park Jimin. Your boyfriend.

“He’s been… weird lately,” you say, uncharacteristically hesitant. 

Jungkook looks a little baffled but also concerned, eyes darting over in the same direction as yours. Jimin’s already kissed you good luck, a soft, lingering touch of his lips against yours before returning to his own car, and you’ve been watching him get ready for tonight’s race. He lounges against his black Skyline and laughs at something that Yoongi and Taehyung are talking about, looking every inch the king that he is.

Jimin is as striking and dazzling as always, jacket covered in jewels that burst outwards like fireworks, the cut of his metallic shirt low enough to reveal his collarbones and smooth skin of his chest. The only understated part of his outfit is the pair of unadorned silver hoops in his ears, simple and elegant. A gift from you that he wears every time you race.

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise a little. “What do you mean he’s up to something?” 

Honestly, being with Jimin is a dream. At first you’d been concerned that your competitive natures would clash and that being opponents on the drifting circuit would cause friction in your relationship—but it actually works out really well. Jimin makes you strive to be a better person, the best you can be, both on and off the track. You’re both as invested in giving each as much attention as you do to winning races, and the truth is that a lot of the fierceness you show on the track melts away entirely when you’re alone together: it just highlights how multifaceted and incredible Jimin is.

He’s a ruthless competitor. He’s also sweet and caring and kind and he always makes time for you. 

Or at least, he normally does.

“He keeps saying he’s busy, and he seems to be distracted when we’re together,” you admit to Jungkook in a low hush. There’s no one within hearing distance of your Pontiac but you’re still cautious. Your relationship with Jimin is well known throughout the circuit now and you don’t want people overhearing intimate details about it. It’s none of their business. “I don’t know, Kookie, it’s… it’s concerning. I guess.”

You’re usually self-assured and confident but right now you sound unsure. Jungkook’s known you for years and years and is one of your closest friends, but even so, admitting this to him is difficult—and he knows it. 

Jungkook pulls the hood of your car down, shutting it with firm hands before he leans across the metal towards you. “Have you tried asking him about it?” 

“Of course.”

“What did he say?”

“We, uh, got distracted,” you say, and Jungkook makes a face at the implication.

“Maybe next time you’re trying to have a serious conversation you shouldn’t let yourself get ‘distracted’?” He raises his eyebrows as he lifts his hands to make air quotations at you and you pout.

“But his ass is just so perfect, can you blame me?”

“Okay, that’s it, I’m out,” Jungkook says while looking pained, and you can’t help but laugh.

Later, though, when you beat Jimin in the race, he lavishes attention on you like he always does—you’d barely inched out ahead of him tonight and so he takes his time when he works you up, touch light and teasing as he runs his hands over you. Your head tilts forward as you pant, bent over the hood of his car as he fingers you open, deep and slow. Just the way you like it, even if you’re hungry for more.

“Jimin, please.” Your voice is desperate as you beg and try to rock against his fingers, get him to move faster. “I need you inside me, god—”

Your words choke off when you feel a sharp smack against the bared skin of your ass, a small punishment for your impatience. You let out a gasp that turns into a quiet moan, turning to hide your face in your elbow to try and stifle the noise as Jimin’s hands immediately soothe over the touch, soft as he rubs over your heated skin.

“Patience, baby.” His voice is low. “You’ll get my cock when you’re nice and ready. Okay?”

“Okay,” you murmur, a little breathless. “I just want you so bad.”

You’re still turned away from him but you can hear the affection in Jimin’s answer as he leans forward to kiss the sensitive skin just behind your ear. “I know, sweet thing.”

Once he finally sinks his cock into you, it doesn’t take long for him to pull you over the edge, your nails scraping against the warm metal of his car as your body goes tense and you cum. Jimin follows soon after, spilling himself inside you as you shiver and clench around him, trying to draw him in as deep as possible; no matter how many times he fucks you open it never gets old, the way you can feel his body move against yours, the way he gasps and moans as he reaches his own edge, the way he holds you close as you both go lax against each other, warm and tender.

“Are you free on Saturday?” You’re perched on the hood of his Nissan afterwards, arms curled around his neck as you pull away to look up at him. “I thought you might want to come over for dinner and a film? You can choose which one we watch, I’m not picky.”

A quick expression flits across Jimin’s face, faster than you can identify, before it turns apologetic. “Sorry, baby. I’m busy this Saturday. How about next week?”

“Oh,” you say. “Okay. Um. Do you want to… grab a quick lunch instead? Or something? When you’re free?”

Jimin turns his face into your hair, nuzzling into your scalp before he kisses the crown of your head. “I think I’ll be busy all weekend, but I’ll let you know, okay?”

You pause and try to hide the surprising amount of pain and confusion that shoots through you at his subtle dismissal, schooling your features before Jimin pulls away to look at you. “Okay baby,” you say brightly. “I hope you have a good weekend, either way.”

Jimin cups your face gently as he smiles at you, all warmth and open affection before he dips down to softly kiss you on the lips. “I will.”

--

If you didn’t trust Jimin so much you’d think he was cheating on you.

You know that Jimin has his own life outside of you and you’re okay with that. You honestly are. It’s not that you want to monopolise his time, but he’s usually so willing to give it to you without you even asking—so now that it seems like he’s pulling away, it’s all the more pronounced when it happens, and you can’t help but wonder why. You’re trying not to be pushy and you haven’t outright demanded Jimin tell you what he’s so busy with; it must be important if he’s prioritising it over you and keeping it a secret, right?

Right?

You’re not needy or overbearing or clingy, but you are a tad possessive, and you can’t help but feel jealous of whatever it is that’s catching Jimin’s attention so much.

“Uh.” Taehyung’s eyes are wide. “Y/n, uh… your bra is? Kind of? Showing a little bit?”

“I know Tae, but thank you.” You take one last glance at yourself in your wing mirror before straightening up, content with how you look tonight. “I can assure you it’s entirely intentional.”

You usually opt for feminine outfits when you race, but they’re never normally this revealing; it’s borderline scandalous, really. Your bra is visible through the lace mesh of your shirt and your skirt is hiked so high it barely covers your ass, pleats fluttering each time you move. The thing that’s covering you the most is actually your pink leather jacket, but even that’s not enough to hide you from any eyes that are roving over you.

But the real kicker—the part of the outfit that would let anyone with discerning eyes know that you’re aiming for aesthetic over practicality—are your shoes. Your over-the-knee suede boots have a killer heel and they have got to be the worst things to drive with, the heels making it hard to shift your feet when you need to slam them onto the pedals, but you don’t care.

“I still think you should try talking to Jimin instead of doing… this,” Jungkook says, waving an arm at you.

“You just gestured to all of me.” You raise a perfectly shaped eyebrow. Not that you don’t always look good, of course, but tonight you’ve pulled out all the stops and it shows.

“That’s my point,” Jungkook groans. “If I nearly catch sight of your butt cheeks one more time I’m going to call the police. I’m feeling distinctly harassed.”

“You should be grateful.” You blow him a kiss and Jungkook makes a face.

“I’m going to call 911.”

“We’re not in America, Kookie,” Taehyung says. Jungkook just sighs.

Seokjin’s organised the meet at a car park in Gangnam tonight, and you watch as the lot starts to fill up, tweaked Supras and Skylines and Fairlady Zs whose engines rumble as their drivers descend into the underground level, filling the basement with noise. There are unfamiliar faces you don’t recognise, rich residents of Seoul’s most expensive neighbourhood rolling out to show off their money by way of their beautiful cars. 

You know a lot of these people won’t be racing tonight and they’re just here for the novelty of it all. Good for them. You have other things on your mind.

(If Jimin isn’t going to give you time when you want it, then you’re not going to let him take it when he wants it.  He hasn’t turned up yet but you know the second he sees you he won’t be able to keep his eyes off you—but tonight you’re not going to let him have you.)

You’re perched on the hood of your flame-red Pontiac as you wait for everyone to finish turning up, pretending to be absorbed in checking your nails as you cross your legs; you don’t have to look up to know that people are staring at you and your shameless behaviour. 

They can watch. You’re not doing this for them.

You glance up at the sound of a deep rumble, almost a purr, and your eyes widen at the sight of the next car that rolls into view. It must be the only time you’ve ever been caught off guard by an unfamiliar vehicle and you don’t even have to pretend to be overawed, breathless as you take in the gorgeous sight. 

She’s low and sleek and magnificent, stark black cut through with a thick ribbon of blood red that rises over the car's bonnet and roof, matching the crimson wheel trims and strip of colour that trails over the edge of its spoiler. The LED headlights glow white and red, crimson halo rings shimmering through the pristine and unmarked glass. She’s all smooth lines and curved edges, every contour a graceful stroke that builds up into a masterpiece, heavenly and bewitching all at once.

“Holy fuck,” you breathe, and for the first time since you started racing, you approach someone’s car before you even know who they are.

The driver is a man you don’t recognise. He’s stepped out of the car and is leaning against it casually, arms crossed and head tilted as he surveys the other motors lined up nearby, running a hand through his dyed brown hair to push it away from his forehead. He’s tall and handsome with his defined cupid’s bow and hooded eyes, and he’d almost look sleepy if he wasn’t watching you so intently, noticing your approach and keeping his eyes on you as you step forwards.

“Oh my god. A Dodge Viper?” You can’t begin to imagine the exportation costs for this thing and how much it must have cost to get the parts to modify it, let alone maintain it. (But Gangnam is an incredibly wealthy area, after all, so you’re not too surprised.)

“You like it?” The Viper’s owner tilts his head at you, a small smirk playing at the edge of his lips. “I can take you for a drive later if you’d like, beautiful.”

“Trust me, if I was sitting in this car, I’d be behind the wheel,” you say. “I bet she drives like a dream. How did you get your hands on an SRT-10 ACR? In Seoul?”

His smirk grows wider. “Brought it with me from Chicago.” He shrugs carelessly, as if it can’t have cost him a small fortune. Like the money means nothing to him. Pocket change. Holy shit. “You wanna take that seat behind the wheel to see if it suits your fancy?”

It does. You run your hands over the leather seats and tilted wheel, pretending to hide a laugh behind your hand as the driver, Johnny, leans into the car to adjust the seat for you; you spread your legs so he can reach between them to pull the bar before he can move the chair, helping you hitch it forwards so you can reach the pedals with your feet, your legs shorter than his. It’s nothing lewd but it’s undeniably flirtatious, even if you’re more focused on drinking down the car’s beautiful interior than pandering to his attention on you.

Johnny holds a hand out to help you step out of the low car and back onto your feet, taking a second to steady yourself on your heels. You’ve been so focused on the Viper that you haven’t been paying attention to the other vehicles that now fill the parking lot, but over Johnny’s shoulder you notice a car that’s as familiar as your own by now—Jimin’s black Skyline.

Your hand is still lingering in Johnny’s as you take the sight in. Jimin looks surprisingly flashy today, jewel embellished bomber jacket catching the eye, Gucci shirt tucked into leather trousers that are cinched tight against his waist by his belt, highlighting his thick thighs and perfect ass. Still pink-haired and always gorgeous. Your beautiful, charming, wonderful boyfriend.

When you make eye contact with him for the first time that night, a hot shiver shoots through you, goosebumps rising over your skin. Jimin’s lips are a firm line and his eyes are dark through the soft touch of faint eyeshadow, and he looks almost impassive, cold; even when you’d first met, back when you’d been nothing more than opponents, he’d never looked like this. 

He’s furious.

He doesn’t come over to wish you good luck today and you don’t approach him either.  Even if this hadn’t been your aim to begin with, who can blame you? You’ll work with this. Maybe it’s passive aggressive, maybe it’s petty, but if Jimin isn’t going to give you the time of day you can’t be blamed if you’re feeling starved for attention, right?

Johnny might be watching, and others might be staring, but at the end of the day you’re only ever aware of one man—and Jimin knows that. 

You’ve been driving your Pontiac for long enough that adding heels to the mix doesn’t throw you off as much as people might expect (besides, you’ve been practicing). Even so, it wouldn’t matter if they did, because you’re not wearing them to help achieve a victory—for the first time ever, you don’t care if you beat Jimin today. Not on the track, anyway. You wanted him wound up and frustrated, desperate to touch you, and it seems like he is.

It shows in his driving. He’s always a sight to behold when he races, swaying his body into the motion of his car as they dance together, every motion practiced and sure. But tonight his actions are sharp and angry. Jimin curls his Skyline into each turn, hard and fast; the Nissan almost seems to float as he pulls the steering wheel and sets the wheels at the perfect angle to achieve his drift, swinging effortlessly around the crescents of safety cones of today’s course. 

He beats you. 

And yet you’re the one who’s smiling. You step out of your car and take in his frosty expression; your heart pounds in your chest but you pretend to be unaffected, disappearing into the throng of fans who are hollering in excitement for the after party now that all the races have finished. 

“Oh, hey, Y/n!” Hoseok seems unperturbed when you loop your arm through his, staying cheerful as you latch onto him. He’s still one of the few drivers who you actually like and trust to not be lecherous towards you, no matter what you’re wearing. “Wow, you’re a lot taller than normal. Where’s Jimin?”

“Don’t know,” you say. It’s true—he’d disappeared after the race and you have no idea where he’s gone, but you know you’ll find him eventually. Or he’ll find you. You always find each other in the end. “Where are the drinks? Is there anything non-alcoholic?”

Hoseok manages to find some cans of coke, much to your delight. He tilts his own can against yours in a cheers motion as you continue to cling to him, sipping your drink, eyes scanning the crowd for where your boyfriend might have disappeared to. 

By the time your can is empty and drained of liquid, Jimin has yet to appear. You frown. It’s not like him to be gone for so long, even if he’s angry right now. You unravel your arm from Hoseok’s and pat his cute cheek as a thank you for letting you hold onto him for so long before you slip away from the after party; you’re uninterested in keeping up the facade of having fun if Jimin isn’t around. 

The elevator is deserted when you step into it, pressing the button to take you to the roof, where you’d left your Pontiac after finishing the race earlier. It’s starting to get chilly and your sheer top does nothing to protect you from the nip in the air. You draw your leather jacket closer around you once the elevator doors open, stepping out onto the rooftop and towards your Solstice. 

There are no lights up here but you don’t need any. Gangnam never sleeps, lights from billboards and skyscrapers washing over each of the buildings, and the sky is clear tonight too—the moon is shining down, silver and bright. You spot a familiar silhouette, bathed in white light where he sits atop your Pontiac’s hood, leaning back on his palms in the way he always does.

Jimin’s the only person who's allowed to touch your car like that.

You let your jacket fall back open as you approach. Jimin’s eyes flicker over to you, his face remaining hard as he watches. A cold shiver runs down your spine but you hold your ground—you’re not about to bow down immediately in the face of his quiet frustration.

Jimin’s eyes slide over you, taking every inch of you in; each part of your revealing outfit, your flawless makeup, your boots, their unnecessary heel. Even though you know he’s angry right now you can tell he likes what he sees and you can’t help but feel pleased about it. 

“Come here, sweet thing,” he says. He spreads his knees apart so you can stand between his legs, because of course you immediately comply with him; he lifts one hand off the car’s bonnet to grasp your chin in his hands, tilting your face down towards him. He doesn’t let go. His grasp is firm. “Any reason why you’re so dolled up today?”

“Nope.” You pop your lips loudly around the p. “No reason at all. Why, do I need a reason to want to look pretty?”

Jimin’s grip tightens and his eyes narrow. Wrong answer. A small puff of air escapes you, knees weak—you’ve never seen Jimin so affected by anything and you feel weirdly powerful at this realisation. There’s something thrilling to know that only you can get under his skin like this.

“Of course not.” Jimin’s voice is deceptively smooth and low, something burning in his gaze. “Just seems to me like my baby wanted everyone’s eyes on her tonight, for one reason or another.”

You stay silent. You don’t want everyone’s eyes on you: you just want his.

Jimin crooks one of his eyebrows at you as you remain quiet. He takes his hand off your chin and lets it fall, dragging it over the lace of your top, through the valley of your breasts and down your stomach before slipping under the hem, splaying his hand over your belly. You can’t help but shiver, body singing under his touch when he draws his nails lightly over your skin. The sight of his hand against you, visible through the netting of your shirt, sets the blood to rising in your veins.

“Oh? Shy all of a sudden, baby?” His eyebrow is still raised as he watches your movements, the way you react to him so easily, always attuned to his touch. “Where was all that shyness earlier, hm? You seemed so bold behind the wheel of that little Viper.”

“I was just having a look,” you say, acting a little pettish. You hadn’t been planning on letting Jimin touch you, but—but you’re so weak for him, and besides, you don’t want him thinking that you’re shying away from his hands because you’d been talking to Johnny earlier.

Jimin rises, pulling his hand from under your shirt as he does. “And everyone was looking at you,” he says. You know he can be possessive and it’s fine, because you are too, and you have no eyes for anyone else but him; normally he likes it when people look at you, because they don’t have a chance and he knows it. “Do you like it when people watch you, sweet thing?”

He punctuates this question with a movement of his hands, one coming to rest at your collarbones, the other sliding between your legs with no warning, running his fingers over the material of your underwear. You jolt in surprise, sucking in a breath.

“You want me to take you right here, hm?” His fingers are rubbing small, tantalisingly light circles over your clit, your panties a maddening barrier between your skin and his. “Bend you over and fuck you on this rooftop where anyone could see?”

Your cunt clenches, entire body going tight at the idea, and Jimin’s eyes darken when he notices. He flips your positions, and your hand fly out to brace yourself against the hood of your car as Jimin shoves the material of your skirt upwards, bunching it around your waist, revealing the scalloped edges of your skimpy lace underwear and the two tiny bows that adorn the centre line of them.

“You want me to call everyone up here? Let them see how well you take my cock?” Jimin continues to run his palms over the flesh of your ass as he speaks. He digs his fingers into your skin and a moan slips out of your lips, the pain shooting through you and dulling into pleasure. “I bet you want them to touch you too, don’t you?”

“No,” you insist. “No, Jimin, only want you—”

“You expect me to believe that you’re not a hungry little cockslut, dressed the way you are tonight, hm?”

You’re blindsided by the arousal that floods through you. You know that Jimin doesn’t think that, not really, but the way he lets the degradation fall from his lips has your toes curling.

“I only want your cock,” you say, trembling. Any rush of power you felt earlier is gone. Jimin is entirely in control now and you both know it. “Wanted you to look at me—dressed pretty for you—”

“Oh, sweet thing,” Jimin hums, sounding indulgent. “You were just feeling needy, was that it?”

“Yes,” you gasp. “Yes, need you so much.”

God. You’re so weak and needy right now, and it’s crazy how much power Jimin has over you; you’ve never been so ready and willing to surrender yourself up before, your earlier planning and resolve slipping away almost as soon as Jimin had laid his hands on you. But what you have with Jimin is built on trust, and you trust him enough to be vulnerable in front of him, to let him see how hungry and desperate you are for his touch.

Then again, he’s always hungry for you, too.

He strokes his hands down your ass and thighs before he circles his hand around your throat to pull you up. He puts no pressure behind his fingertips but you feel helpless anyway, breathless as he pulls you flush against him, your back to his chest, head tilted upwards with how his hand is resting around your throat.

Jimin’s voice is pitched low and his breath is warm against your ear as he lets the words curl out of his mouth. “What does my baby need?”

Oh, he does so love to hear you beg. Your eyes flicker towards a sudden flash of light; there’s someone using the elevator, panel lighting up, letting you know they’re on the way to the rooftop.

“Jimin—”

He presses closer to you, trapping you against your car, helpless. “If you don’t tell me what you need you won’t get it,” he says, and you shudder.

“Need you to fuck me,” you gasp out. “Need you to make me cum—need you to fill me up—want you so bad—”

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

Jimin steps away just as the elevator dings, doors sliding open to reveal a gaggle of people, fans crowding around a few drivers. The smile on Jimin’s face is wicked as you turn around, and you almost hate how nonchalant he looks while you’re so affected. You have no doubt the flimsy material of your underwear and the high hem of your skirt is doing nothing to hide how slick you are, so you’re grateful that the rooftop is only lit in dim light.

One of the drivers peels off from the group and you realise that it’s Johnny. He approaches you despite how Jimin wraps an arm around your waist, hand sliding under your jacket—you let yourself relax, leaning against Jimin’s familiar body, settling against him in a way you don’t even have to think about any more.

“Nice driving,” Johnny says. He hadn’t actually raced himself, but his Dodge is a powerful and vicious beast, so you’re not surprised he didn’t want to risk damaging her in the tight corners of the car park. She thrives on the open road, not indoors. “Want to put those skills to the test in my Viper?”

“She’s busy.” Jimin pulls you even closer. He has his usual mask on now, distant and aloof. You’re the only one who sees his softness, or his lust. (That’s only for you.)

“Wasn’t talking to you, man.” Johnny doesn’t even spare Jimin a glance, ignoring him despite how Jimin had beaten you earlier—he just stares at you. You can’t help but feel insulted on your boyfriend’s behalf. He’s a fantastic driver and he deserves every bit of attention that Johnny is lavishing on you.

“Thank you, but it’s true, I’m busy,” you say. Jimin’s thumb is slowly brushing up and down your side; just a small, tiny motion, but you’re hyperaware of it. You lift your hand to rest on Jimin’s chest, over the raised, glittering Roman numerals of his shirt. “Enjoy your Viper. She’s beautiful.”

Johnny stands there for a second and then shrugs. “Aight,” he says. “I will. Have a nice night, I guess.”

He wanders off and gets absorbed back into the group of people he’d appeared with. Jimin turns his head and kisses your cheek, and then your ear, dipping his head to mouth at your neck, and you grip the hand that’s resting on your waist.

“Jiminie,” you say. “We need to go.”

He laughs against the skin of your throat. He sounds smug, the desperation obvious in your tone. “Always so needy, sweet thing,” he murmurs. “Haven’t heard the saying all good things come to those who wait?”

Jimin’s making you pay for your earlier boldness and you know it. There’s an ache between your legs, one that needs to be satisfied, but he seems happy to wait, unruffled. You’re so riled up right now and he seems unmoved, even if the iciness around him has melted now.

“I’ve been waiting all night.” You squirm a little, tightening your thighs, trying to offer yourself some relief; Jimin can always turn you on so fast and you can feel a physical throb of arousal in your cunt, lips swollen, begging to just be touched.

He lets out a little sigh, as if he’s being put upon right now. You’re torn between wanting to kiss him or shove him away from your car.

“Fine,” you say, making your tone a petulant one as you turn your nose up. “I guess I’ll just go home and grab my vibrator—”

Jimin tugs you against him, his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes.  His voice is quiet but undeniable. “No, you won’t. I’m not done with you, sweet thing. You’re always so impatient.” He loosens his hold so he can pull his head away and then he’s smiling at you; there’s something behind that smirk, something in his eyes. “Come on, baby.”

He gives you no chance to question him. You drive beside him in your Solstice, trying to ignore how your skirt is hitched up and you can feel yourself dripping on the leather seat; the rumble and vibrations of your car provide the barest of reliefs, nowhere near what you really want. 

You know Jimin’s apartment will be deserted tonight, Yoongi staying with Taehyung, leaving you and Jimin alone, but he still teases you even as you step inside. You try to crowd up against Jimin, get him to touch you— you know that he wants to and he usually gives in once you’re this wound up and aching, but tonight he seems content not to. At one point you try to guide his hand under your shirt again and he grabs your wrist, giving you a look that makes your knees go weak, even if you scowl at him. He hasn’t even kissed you properly yet.

“Be patient,” he says. 

There’s a note of warning in his voice. Normally you’d be more willing and pliant, ready to listen, but this entire escapade started because you’re feeling neglected and ignored—this is just the icing on the cake.

“I have been! Come on,” you whine. “Don’t you want your reward for winning tonight?”

Jimin’s mouth is a hard line. “I’m going to claim my prize,” he says. “But it seems like you’re making this about you, aren’t you? Always so greedy, sweet thing. I guess I’ve been too lax with you, haven’t I?”

You pause. He has that look in his eye, one that you’ve started to recognise the more you see it, and you can feel your pussy throbbing when you realise that he’s starting to take complete control of the situation. You’re equals on the track, and equals in this relationship, but recently in the bedroom you’ve been giving up your position at the helm sometimes, letting Jimin control the pace.

Because you trust him.

“Maybe,” you answer, and Jimin smiles. “But you can’t blame me for that.”

“No, that’s true,” Jimin says. “That’s why I’ll only punish you for your earlier shameless behaviour, not your impatience. I’ll give you five.”

He doesn’t need to elaborate on what he means. Five spanks. Barely anything, really. You scoff. “Five? Why even bother at that point?”

Jimin’s eyes darken. “Another five for answering back. That’s ten altogether. You want to keep going, baby?”

Do you? You’re not sure. Jimin’s helped you discover that you enjoy spanking, sure, but do you really want to waste time on more spanks when you could be getting something better?

You’ve clearly been quiet for long enough that Jimin finds it concerning. “What’s your colour, sweet thing?”

A warm flush of affection spreads through your chest, the reminder that no matter what happens, you have your safewords: that even though you feel like Jimin is controlling the direction of the night, you have the power to stop it if you need to. You decide that ten is enough. “Green,” you say. “I’m green, Jimin.” 

You watch as he smiles at you, pleased, before he pulls the rings off his right hand, dropping them to the coffee table and ignoring the clatter of metal against glass. Once his hand is free and unadorned he takes a seat in the middle of the sofa, patting his thighs. “Boots off, and then I want you over here, baby.”

You shrug your jacket off and let it fall to the floor before you pull the tie-string at the top of your boots, letting them sag open before you kick them aside. You try to ignore how slick your folds feel and how wet you are as you make your way over to him, draping yourself across his lap; his thighs feel so thick and firm under your stomach, shifting forwards so that your ass is tilted up towards him, settling over his knees. You glance over your shoulder to look at Jimin but he just tuts.

“Eyes forward.”

You bite your lip but obey, facing forwards again as you stretch your arms in front of you, staring at your hands. You can’t see what Jimin is doing but you focus on the sensation of each of his motions. How he pulls your skirt up like he had earlier, how the air of the room is cool on your skin. 

You choke in a gasp when he takes the material of your underwear and tugs it up, revealing the bare skin of your ass when he pulls them tight; the pressure against your clit feels so good but it’s still not enough, even when you try to roll your hips forwards into the sensation. He clicks his tongue and then pulls them down instead, letting them settle at your knees, nothing better than a flimsy restraint.

“I want you to count them for me,” Jimin murmurs. He’s rubbing his hands over your skin, your lower back and ass and thighs, getting you ready; he swats your skin lightly a few times to get you prepared, each quick slap a glancing touch that quickly fades. “One to ten. Okay?”

“Okay.” Your voice is shakier than you thought it would be, so wound up and desperate for any sort of relief. Even though the light hits that he’s raining down on your skin fade almost instantly you can feel the coil tightening inside you, the anticipation building up, ready to burst.

The first real smack has you jolting in his lap. The pain quickly fades into pleasure and you clench your hands as the sensation rolls through you. “One,” you count as Jimin rubs his palm over your skin, soothing it.

The next smack is on your other buttock, Jimin’s flat palm leaving a stinging sensation against your skin that tingles outwards and into your core. “T-two.”

You continue to count out each smack. Jimin varies the intensity and speed of them, alternating between caressing your skin or squeezing the flesh of your ass between each one; you can never anticipate how he’s going to move, each slap against your skin a sharp pain that instantly melts into pleasure, sensation dulling and spreading into a tingling sting that settles into you.

By the time you’re ready for the last hit you’re almost sobbing with pleasure, trying your best not to squirm in his lap, trying not to think about how much you’re dripping. Jimin dips his fingers lower, glancing over your sodden folds, and you gasp out loud at the teasing, desperate for more.

“One more.” Jimin’s voice is low. “You’re doing so, so well, baby. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” you confirm, and then his hand is coming down against the swell of your ass for the final time. “Ten,” you gasp.

Jimin’s hands are all over you, stroking you, praising you with his words and touch. He turns your head towards him so he can crane forwards and kiss you. It’s an awkward position but you can’t help but lean into the kiss, the first time his lips have touched yours tonight, ample reward after the punishment you’d just taken.

“Did so well,” he praises. “How are you doing, baby?”

His hands are rubbing over your sore flesh. Your skin stings but the ache isn’t bad, although you can’t help but think that you’re not going to want to put any pressure on your ass any time soon. “I’m good,” you say. “So good. Thank you, Jiminie.”

He lets out a tinkling little laugh. “Thanking me for a punishment, sweet thing?”

You feel loose and relaxed, limp in Jimin’s lap, all the endorphins from the spanking running through your veins. “I deserved it,” you sigh.

Your head is turned to one side so you can glance at Jimin, though the angle still prevents you from seeing anything in any sort of detail—so you’re caught completely off guard when he pushes a finger into you, your lower lips parting so easily for him, and you let out a reedy cry when he presses another one in when he realises you can take it.

“You’re fucking dripping,” Jimin breathes, and you writhe as he presses in deeper, his pretty little fingers sinking so easily into your greedy cunt. You can’t spread your legs properly with how your underwear is hooked around your knees and you feel so tight around his fingers, especially when he presses a third one in, the slight burn fading so quickly into pleasure. “Oh, just look at you.”

The slick sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of you is lewd. You’re so, so wet, only growing wetter as he continues to move his hand; he doesn’t touch your clit and when you try to rock against his thighs he uses his other hand to hold you still, splaying his fingers over the heated flesh of your ass. 

He knows how hard you find it to cum without any stimulation to your clit and doesn’t touch you where you’re desperate to be touched, focusing on turning you into a quivering, needy mess in his lap. Your skin feels overheated and your nipples are hard in the cups of your bra, almost painful, and you’re so, so hungry for your release.

“Jimin, please,” you sob. “Please, please—”

He pulls all of his fingers out of you all at once. Tears of frustration spring to your eyes and you kick your feet as you clench and unclench your hands, but then Jimin is guiding you off his lap, putting his hands around your waist to move you. His hands are quick and fast as they tug your skirt down your legs, though he’s still careful to ease the waistband over the curve of your hips and ass, avoiding the stinging skin. You feel the lace of your top rip as you both hastily pull it off, but you really don’t give a shit, fumbling for the clasp of your bra as soon as you can; you’re naked and needy in front of a fully-clothed Jimin, who’s looking at you with hooded eyes as he stands.

Normally you take the time to touch him, feel his soft skin under your hands and lips, tease him and work him up with his cock in your mouth, but tonight it seems like he’s too impatient to wait. When you reach out for him he takes hold of your wrists, his grasp gentle but firm, and he guides you into the position he wants— knees on the sofa, hands braced against the backrest, looking over your shoulder so you can drink him in as he gets undressed.

First, that beautiful embellished bomber of his, carelessly cast to one side. Next, the shirt, tugged out of the tight loop of his belt and pulled over his head, revealing his beautiful chest and stomach, the tattoos you’ve grown familiar with still beautiful as ever on his skin. The belt, unbuckled, leather trousers shoved down and kicked aside, and then he pulls his socks off and he’s finally, finally done. He looks so beautiful like this, naked save for the jewellery on his body— the chain around his neck, the bracelets at his wrists, the rings on his left hand, and of course, the simple, silver hoops in his ears.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” you breathe. 

Jimin’s expression is clouded with lust but you can see how his eyes go soft at your reverent tone, and he bends forwards to catch your mouth against his again; it’s deep and slow but messy, sloppy with the desperation you have for each other. “You’re gorgeous too,” he murmurs against your lips, and you smile, leaning into him. “My pretty baby.”

One of his hands settles at the curve of your waist, and the other grips his cock, ready to press into you. You’re almost shivering, so, so ready for him, entire body on edge; you choke in a gasp when you feel his cockhead brush against your folds, the slide so wet and easy. You feel how you part for him once he breaches you, your inner walls opening for his familiar hardness, pulling him in deeper and deeper until he bottoms out.

The skin of your ass stings where he’s pressed against it, but it’s just another sensation on top of the pleasure singing through you, settling in your lower belly and between your legs. Jimin wastes no time and starts to snap his hips forwards, one hand at your waist and the other at your shoulder to give him leverage to drive into you, curving your spine as you struggle to hold yourself up— the slap of his skin against yours and the wet sounds of his cock breaching your cunt is almost deafening, but then he leans forward to hook his arm around you, taking his fingers and rubbing tight, quick circles on your clit, fingers still wet from where they’d been sunk into you before.

The noise you make when you finally cum drowns out the other sounds that have been filling the room. You cum so hard your legs shake and you slump forwards, thighs trembling as you fold your weight into your arms, ripples of pleasure skating through you from your dripping cunt, still stuffed full of Jimin’s hot cock.

Jimin slows his thrusts, though he’s still pumping in and out of you, aftershocks trembling through your body from your orgasm. He puts a hand in your hair and tugs, pulling you against him, the skin of your back pressed against his chest. “Is my baby still feeling needy, hm?”

You nod your head, still grinding back against him, chasing the pleasure of his cock shifting inside you and the ache of your stinging skin dragging against his hipbones. “Yes,” you say, breathless. “Yes, need more.”

Jimin laughs, a triumphant little sound. You’re too far gone to even feel embarrassed at how shameless you’re being right now. “I knew it,” he says. “Greedy little cockslut, aren’t you?”

You clench around him, swallowing down a moan. “Only for you, Jiminie.”

“No one else is ever going to be good enough, are they?” He circles his hips and you shudder against him at the feeling, how his cock drags against your inner walls. “No one else knows how to please my baby like I do, do they?”

“No,” you agree. “No, no one else, only you— oh—”

Jimin stays inside you as he turns you around, hands firm around your waist as he sits down and pulls you with him, seating you in his lap. You lean back against him, rolling your hips and arching your spine when he cups your breasts in his hands, kissing down the length of your neck before sucking marks into your skin. Once it seems like he’s satisfied with how clearly he’s marked you as being taken, as being his, he starts to bounce you in his lap, thick thighs cushioning your fall each time you drive your hips back down.

“Can you cum again for me, baby?” His fingers are digging so firmly into your hips now that you wonder if it’ll bruise, but you can’t help but want it, want more reminders that you’re his. Reminders of his touch. “Can you give me one more?”

“Y-yes,” you hiccup, breath driven out of you with one particularly hard rock of Jimin’s hips. “Wanna come with you, Jimin.”

You can tell when Jimin’s close to his release. You don’t need to look over your shoulder to know—you can picture the sweat in his hair, the set of his brows and the curve of his mouth as he moans. You know the cadence of his gasps, how the motions of his hips start to speed and go off rhythm; you know exactly when to let your hand fall between your legs, rubbing at your clit so that you can cum with Jimin, your entire body wound up and ready to tumble off the edge with him. He puts his hand over yours, pressing the pads of your fingers down harder on your swollen bundle of nerves as your fingers grow slick with your wetness, and you’re gone.

You hit your peak with a breathless, wanton cry, throwing your head back against Jimin’s shoulder as your toes curl and you cum again. You’re swept up in the sensation of pleasure washing through your body when you feel how Jimin shudders underneath and inside you, how your cunt is still clenching as his cock twitches, as he empties himself into you. You’ve never cum the same time as someone before. It’s almost like you’re pulling the cum out of him, drawing it deeper inside you with each wave of sensation that ripples through your core, and you slump back against him, your chests heaving as you both ride out your highs; the tremors slowly subside as Jimin strokes his hands over your skin, and you twist your head so you can kiss each other slowly, lazily pressing your lips together as you catch your breaths, pleasure from your orgasms settling into every inch of your bodies.

“My pretty baby,” Jimin says, quiet and sweet against your mouth. You smile and rub your nose against his, pressing a swift kiss to the swell of his cupid’s bow.

“All yours,” you say, leaning into the tight embrace that Jimin wraps you in.

You feel blissful and fucked out, lying on your side on the sofa to save putting pressure on your still sore ass, watching Jimin as he moves around the room. He gathers up your clothes and you see how he pauses when he reaches your boots. It’s like you both remember all at once what lead you to this moment, and you see how Jimin turns his head to you with a question on his lips—he knows you well enough to know that everything you do is thought out and measured and that there would have been a reason that you were dressed so provocatively. You wouldn’t have done it on a whim, just because you felt like it.

“Y/n,” he says, and you look away from him, suddenly embarrassed. Every touch tonight has cemented the fact that Jimin cares about you and gives you time and attention, so now you just feel like some sort of dumb petulant child who was being greedy—you didn’t think you were monopolising Jimin’s time, but you obviously are. “Why—”

“You kept saying you were busy,” you interrupt, though you keep your eyes off him, staring up at the ceiling instead. “I was just—I was just feeling neglected and I wanted you to look at me. I wasn’t trying to get anyone else’s attention, I just wanted you to want to spend time with me, because you’ve been so busy recently and you won’t tell me why,” you finish, your voice quiet. You feel silly even as the final words come out.

“Oh, sweet thing.” Jimin’s voice is warm and gentle. You glance away from the ceiling to see him carefully setting all the clothes and mess to one side, heedless of the tangle of expensive clothing, and he crouches by the sofa to cup your face in his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you sigh, nuzzling into his lovely hands, into the now-familiar sensation of his fingers against your cheeks. “I was just being greedy.”

“No, you weren’t, you’re right.” His hair is mussed and his eyeshadow is smudged, as is yours, the two of you vulnerable with each other in ways you never are with anyone else. His eyes are soft and his face is open as he dips down to kiss your forehead, brushing the loose hair away from your face. “I have been very busy and I’ve been unfair by not telling you why.”

“You don’t have to,” you insist, but he shakes his head.

“I’ll be right back, baby,” he says. “Hold on.”

You watch him leave the room and pad down the hallway, past Yoongi’s bedroom and into his own, and you sit up when you see him reappear with a small collection of papers, print-outs that you try to catch a glimpse of before he spreads them on the coffee table for you to see.

“I’ve been going on apartment viewings,” he says. “I was trying to work out which place was best. What’s in our budget, where’s between my work and your garage—I’ve been trying to narrow it down.”

You stare at him, dumbfounded. He’s smiling at you in that way of his that you love so much, the one that squeezes his eyes and lets you see his crooked front tooth—the smile that drives home that Jimin is flawlessly flawed, perfect with his imperfections, overwhelming in his beauty.

“Jimin,” you breathe. “You want to move in with me?”

“More than anything,” he says. “I thought it would be nice if you didn’t have to worry about anything because I would have already done all the legwork. I wanted to surprise you.”

Your face crumples. You don’t mean to, but you can feel tears welling in your eyes; Jimin moves instantly, pulling you close to him as you try to swallow down the sudden rush of emotion, overwhelmed. You’re both still naked, your skin pressed against his as he holds you, but there’s no lust behind this touch—it’s all love and affection and you still can’t believe that Park Jimin is yours. You’ve never felt so lucky in all your life.

“You should have told me,” you sniffle. “Apartment viewings suck. I could have helped.”

Jimin laughs, a light giggle that ends up muffled against your scalp when he noses into your hair. “That would have defeated the purpose of the surprise, sweet thing,” he says. He pulls back so he can look at you, and just like when he’d seen you cry before, there’s no judgement on his face—just warm empathy and fondness. “They do suck, though. It’s taken so much longer than I thought. I never meant to make you feel neglected.”

“I was being stupid.” You huff out a breath into his face. “Like—okay, sure, maybe you weren’t spending as much time with me as you normally do, but you weren’t neglecting me. I just got so used to having you whenever I wanted you.”

Jimin smiles. He keeps hold of you, pulled close in his embrace, and you know then that you’re never going to let Park Jimin go. “When we move in, you will,” he says, and you shiver at the promise of future pleasure—not just sex, but closeness, intimacy, a promise to one another that this is going to become more.

But, like, also the sex, too.

God, Jimin is so gorgeous.

You let Jimin thumb your small tears away. You hate crying in front of anyone, hate feeling weak, but Jimin never judges you. He makes you feel safe, like you can be open with him, and you know he’ll never betray your trust. You press a kiss to his Adam’s apple before you peer at the printed sheets on the coffee table, wanting to see the fruits of his labour. “So are these the ones you’ve narrowed it down to?” Your eyes flicker over the pages. “Take me through them.”

You end up curled in his lap, looking through each of his choices together—and hey, if you get distracted by each other halfway through the selection, who can blame you?

---

TAGLIST: @beyoncesdragon​ 

[kerikaaria]

Premiere

(Jungkook x gn!Reader) Oneshot, Established relationship

Genre: (G) Fluff

Warnings: None!

WC: 1.8k

Description: You’d do anything for your boyfriend, even if that meant sitting through the premiere for a horror movie.

A/N - Written for the lovely @aroseforyoongi ‘s birthday! We were given random prompts by picking two random numbers. My words were: Dedication and horror. AND I HAD NO IDEA WHAT TO DO. HORROR???? I couldn’t figure out where to go with that! So I’m also giving a HUGE thanks to @eternalseokjin​ for being amazing and giving me the basis for this little oneshot! 

Happy birthday, Dianchie! I wish you all the best, always.

You hated horror movies.

It was a mystery to you how people actually enjoyed being scared out of their wits as they watched a killer hunt everyone down, or a ghost slowly drove its victims to insanity. So why, one may ask, were you currently on your way to the opening premiere of a horror movie?

Simple—you loved your boyfriend much more than you hated horror movies.

Jungkook had been working hard at his dream of being an actor, getting his hands on any role he could. With each job, he hoped the right people would manage to see him and his potential in the few scenes and fewer lines he was offered and be able to make his big break.

This was the first big step to that for him. With a little luck, the director had picked Jungkook out at the auditions and offered him the lead role for the movie. And even luckier, it was a movie that a lot of people were looking forward to and was projected to do fairly well. If it did go as well as hoped, then maybe this could lead to that big break he’d been hoping for for years.

What kind of person would you be if you didn’t agree to attend with your loving boyfriend to the movie premiere of what could be the start of the future of his career? So of course, you agreed to come. Jungkook was really apprehensive when he asked if you wanted to go, knowing your severe aversion to horror movies, and you were absolutely sure he would have understood if you said no. But there was no way you could do that to him. If he could sit through hours of those family gatherings your grandma set up every year and deal with the back-handed comments from relatives you hardly knew about how he’s wasting his time on his dream, you could do this for him. It couldn’t be that much more torturous than that, right?

That’s what you kept telling yourself while you were attached to Jungkook’s arm, a smile on your face for the cameras. Much more important than your anxiety of sitting through the movie was the crucial real-life role you knew you had to play for Jungkook right now. He would never say it out loud in fear of putting pressure on you, but you knew that he needed you for support. The cameras couldn’t pick up the subtle hints you knew all too well that meant your introverted boyfriend was extremely nervous about making a good impression, and about how well the movie and his acting would be received by viewers. It was easy to shut down the anxiety when you knew he was relying on you to be a pillar for him.

As soon as the two of you made it into the room and found your seats you could feel Jungkook relax, body feeling lighter after being able to get away from the reporters’ questions and prying eyes. He loosened your grip on his arm so he could properly entwine his fingers with yours, giving your hand a firm squeeze as he leaned toward you.

“Thank you for coming, baby,” Jungkook whispered against your skin before placing a chaste kiss on your cheek. “I appreciate you being here with me.”

“Of course,” you responded, turning to smile at him. “You know I’m always here to support you.”

“Let me know if the movie gets to be too much for you, okay?” Jungkook said, squeezing your hand once more. “We can leave at any point if you need to.”

You had absolutely no plans to cut this short for him. Even if turned out to be the scariest thing you’d ever seen, you were already steeling yourself to sit through the entire film. But to comfort Jungkook, you assured him that you’d indeed tell him if you felt like you had to leave.

Once the lights dimmed to signal that the movie was about to start, you felt the anxiety you’d kept at bay start to crawl its way up your chest. You kept it tampered down for the time being, reminding it that these movies didn’t start out with the really creepy stuff and you still had some time before the ghost was going to do anything.

It was made even easier when you first saw your handsome boyfriend appear on the screen only a few minutes in. You always watched everything he was in, no matter how small the role was. But now that he was the main focus and in the center, you couldn’t help but to be even more proud of him than ever.

Jungkook loved to learn every detail he could about his craft, including having an interest in directing and filmmaking as well. Days spent listening to him critique filming techniques made you also moderately familiar with the subject. While the movie wasn’t doing anything much different than you’d expect from this kind of film, you immediately noticed everything that set up the mood for a horror story. The desaturated and dark tones, soft ambient music and sounds in the background rather than a full-sounding soundtrack, and the ominous feeling behind Jungkook’s character being left a whole estate by a rich relative he had hardly even heard about. It was honestly incredibly well set-up, even if the plot was a bit predictable so far.

By distracting yourself with picking apart the details of how the film was setting up the story and admiring Jungkook’s talent and good looks, you almost forgot what kind of movie you were watching.

Almost.

When the first genuine jump scare happened about half an hour into the film, it held up to its name by making you nearly jump out of your seat. Even though he kept it quiet, you could tell Jungkook held back the chuckle that bubbled up due to your overreaction. He quickly steeled his expression though, leaning in to whisper, “You doing okay so far?”

“Yeah,” you were quick to respond. “I was just distracted.”

“Distracted? By what?”

“By how talented you are, of course,” you easily answered.

Seeing the hint of a shy smile on Jungkook’s face and the tension in the movie having calmed down for the time being put your restless heart temporarily at ease.

But of course, it wasn’t too long until the horror aspect of the movie was pulling into full swing and it was ominous music, jump scares, and creepy old ghost lady creeping around every corner galore. You tried to continue distracting yourself with the well-done editing and admiring your boyfriend some more, but it only went so far. Especially when your mind forgot to remind you that what you were seeing on screen was fiction and not your actual boyfriend in danger.

After a while, you gave up trying to actually see what was going on and hid your face in Jungkook’s arm, letting the close proximity remind you that he was indeed safe and sound next to you.

“Should we leave?” Jungkook gently asked, whispering close to one ear while he covered the other with his hand to help mute the sounds of the movie for you.

You shook your head, determined to make it through this. “I’ll be okay,” you meekly replied after lifting your head up so he could hear you. “How much longer, do you think?”

“It should be getting close to the climax, and then it’ll be a lot calmer. Are you sure you don’t want to leave?”

“I can do it,” you assured him. You turned your head back toward the screen in time to see Jungkook’s character running down a hallway to try to get some distance from the ghost. I can do it, you repeated in your mind.

Honestly, you would have preferred a slasher flick. Demon ghosts had too much power and were too unpredictable in what they could do, and the idea of fighting something virtually intangible scared the living daylights out of you. But this was your current reality and you were going to make it through this for Jungkook.

He was right, and it wasn’t too long before the climax began building up. It was a little easier to bear despite the increasing tension, knowing that Jungkook’s character was close to stopping ghost lady—you certainly hadn’t paid enough attention to find out if she had a name. Soon enough, the climax of the movie hit its peak and things started settling down to a much more manageable finish.

It took another five minutes for you to realize you were still clinging tightly to Jungkook’s arm out of reflex. Letting go, you mumbled out an apology for no doubt hurting him and telling yourself to remember and check him for bruises later.

When the credits finally rolled, you felt infinitely more relieved. You slumped in your seat, Jungkook not holding back his chuckle this time.

Before long everyone was shuffling out of the theater and while Jungkook smiled endearingly at you, you were listening to what others had to say about the movie. It relaxed you and put a smile on your face when you heard people complimenting Jungkook’s acting and about the plot twists that they didn’t expect—and you didn’t really know about because you were too busy burrowing into your boyfriend’s shoulder to notice.

You were glad the two of you lived together because even just walking out to your car in the dark had you constantly looking over your shoulder, expecting a murderous demon ghost lady to be on your tail. On the way home, the two of you kept conversation light by talking about how well you thought it went. Jungkook was still nervous about what the reception would be like, but he was much more excited now as well.

It was when the two of you were laying in bed that Jungkook said, “You know, I’m really proud of you for making it through the movie, baby.”

Playfully, you rolled your eyes. “Good to know me watching a fictional horror film all the way through is such an accomplishment to be proud of.”

“You ran out of the room when we watched ‘Haunted Mansion’ because you thought it was too scary,” Jungkook deadpanned.

“It was! There’s a crystal ball with a floating head in it! How is that not scary?”

“The head wasn’t actually in there. Sorry to tell you babe, but a movie with a singing statue quartet isn’t scary.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, running out of juice to argue.

“Seriously though,” Jungkook said after a moment passed. “I really am proud of you. And I’m really happy you chose to come with me. I can’t tell you how much it means to me.”

“I love you,” you said in return, knowing he’d understand that those three words held a lot more meaning than just that.

“And I love you.” Jungkook smiled as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

You would readily do this again for Jungkook if he ever starred in another horror film. But that didn’t mean you’d stop being a big clingy scaredy-cat about it.

My ask box is always open!

Also, if you’d like to donate to my Ko-fi, feel free! Absolutely no pressure though :) You can also check out my Etsy shop for BTS inspired charms as well!

[cherriesfineline]

MEET HALFWAY OUR NEEDS - one shot

a/n: hi! this is my first time ever posting one of my writings online (I'm about to shit myself but oh well). I literally wrote this so fast I'm impressed, but anyways I (kind of) proof read this -not really- just quickly read through it after I finished it. English isn't my first language (I'm so self conscious I'm probably gonna say that every time I post something) but besides that, I really hope you enjoy this <3 feedback is truly appreciated, it helps me improve!

-Joey

Pairing: Harry x Y/N

Warnings: detailed sexual content

Word count: 9.2k (of mostly smut??? sorry)

the one where Harry wants to get married but Y/N doesn't.

As you grow older, you start realizing life isn't as easy as it seemed when you were a kid. Not everyone gets lucky enough to have a job they're passionate about. Not everyone can satisfy all their necessities. In fact, you realize it's most people instead of "not everyone".  Friendships and relationships won't last you a lifetime (those promises of being there for each other forever now seem like genuine naiveness) if you don't put enough effort in them. When you are young you believe that being able to play for hours straight without getting bored is what true friendship is about. And maybe it is, during those years.  Adult relationships require a lot of time, and effort. And sometimes, sacrifice. Conversations have a different weight, and being able to trust someone with your most uneasy thoughts and experiences is hard. To find and to keep.  When it comes to love, you start realizing that the thrill and intensity of teen romance isn't what true love is about. It's not about getting into fights, hardcore jealousy and toxicity behaviors. It's about being able to just be there, with that someone. Being able to coexist in each other's worlds, share what you're passionate about without any fear or remorse, being able to communicate. To ask for help when needed. Now, that doesn't mean things can't get complicated.  For the past two months, Y/N and Harry's relationship has been balancing on a very, extremely, thin line.  After six years of being together, and three of those living together, being the happiest they've ever been, everything started to look different for Harry. He was ready to take a step Y/N wasn't.  Harry always knew he wanted to get married, have kids, move to a pretty house outside New York (it's been his favorite city ever since he visited when he was 12, then moving all the way across the globe from Manchester to attend Columbia University). And when he met Y/N, he knew she was the one he wanted all that with. But Y/N... she wasn't so sure that was the life she wanted. Having kids was a no at least until she was in her 30's. And even then, she knew she'd have to re consider if that's what she really wanted.  She loves kids, she has a couple nieces a nephew's (coming from a big family has it's perks) and she's a preschool teacher. She's good with kids, but she wasn't so sure she'd be a great mother. Not for a specific reason, but she really feels like that's the case. Taking care of someone else's kids versus your own is extremely different. Now... it gets even more complicated when it comes to marriage. She doesn't believe that a piece of paper kept in a legal's office will make any changes in their relationship. It will all stay the same, married or not, so she just doesn't think it's important, nor worth the money.  Harry, on the other hand, thinks marrying her will change everything in his life. For the better. He loves her more than he'll ever be able to put into words. And because he can't put it into words, he feels like it's the actions, small and big, that help him communicate his love a bit better.  He still remembers the moment he mentioned marriage to her (not for the first time, but definitely the first time he actually thought 'ok i really want to marry her right now') like it happened yesterday. He remembers exactly what it felt like to physically feel his heart shatter inside his chest, and the way he silently cried himself to sleep that night with Y/N in his arms.  "Would you ever, uh... consider g-getting married? like, I don't know, if we ever have, like, an actual conversation about it, would you consider it?" He asked her in the middle of their Lord of the Rings marathon.  Harry could feel her intense staring at the side of his face. She was quiet for so long, it killed him. He truly wanted the cushions of their pink couch to just suck him inside the furniture piece.  He wouldn't dare to turn his face. He couldn't look at her, no. Not to face the rejection of his lifetime.  "Uh, I don't think so." She said, and Harry only nodded, thinking the conversation was over

once he felt her move her head to face the television again. "You know how I feel about you and how I feel about marriage. I honestly think it's useless. You don't need a signed paper to know how much I love you, Harry." Her tone was soft, but the words that left her mouth felt like a million knives inside his chest.  That conversation sent him spiraling over a thousand thoughts, overthinking their entire relationship and how he now felt like they were getting nowhere with it.  He respected her decision, though. That's why he didn't bring it up again.  Y/N sensed his mood change that same night. She kept her mouth shut, because she truly didn't know what to say. She didn't understand where he was coming from, or why it was so important to him. At first, she didn't think his mood was affected because of her not wanting to get married, maybe he had something else going on and was struggling to talk about it, but after many sessions with her therapist going over and over their conversations and trying to decipher why everything was so weird between them, she came to the conclusion it might have to do with them not getting married.  She just didn't want it. And she didn't know how to make him understand. But she couldn't lose him either. He was her everything. It took her months to be able to sit next to him like she did the night he was watching The Little Mermaid in the living room of their small New York apartment.  It's been months since they last shared a movie night, or a date. They've been eating dinner while having awkward small talk about their jobs and friends, going straight to bed after cleaning everything up, each to their side. They haven't touched each other except the occasional greeting peck ever since that night. And it was killing both of them, but neither knew how to approach the other.  As she sat down to his right, she saw him tense immediately. It broke her, to see him so on guard around her. Y/N couldn't look away from him, with her body facing him and her head rested on the back of the couch, she wanted to grab his hand so badly, but she didn't know if he'd reject her.  The doorbell rang, and he looked at her for the first time that night. His eyebrows had the cutest frown and she wanted to kiss his forehead to make him relax, but of course, she didn't.  She sent him a shy smile and stood up, going straight to the door and picking up the cash she left prepared on the little table next to it. She could feel his stare burning holes in her back, which sent chills down her spine.  "Thank you so much." Harry heard Y/N say, immediately hearing the door shut. From where he was sitting he didn't have a clear view on who was on the other side of the door. Y/N made her way to their kitchen (to do God knows what, Harry thought) only to appear seconds after with two tubes of ice cream (from his favorite place) and two big spoons.  She sat back down next to him with her legs under her, a little closer than moments ago but still out of Harry's reach.  She handed him one of the tubes, and Harry immediately noticed it was chocolate chip mint, his favorite, he might add. He looked up at her, who gave him a small shrug of her shoulders and a side smile, and he couldn't help but smile widely at her, his deep dimples on full display.  God, I missed those dimples so bad. Y/N thought.  But what she didn't know is that Harry was thinking about how much he missed her. Entirely. He hated himself for overthinking every small detail, and for thinking so lowly of their future. But he couldn't help it. "Thanks." He shyly took the ice cream and started eating right away. Not five minutes later, he grabbed her by her thigh and dragged her next to him, only to have her close to his body. And because he missed her. And her body heat. And her addictive smell of clean soap and vanilla. And a lot of other things which would take a lifetime to enumerate.  She looked at him from her new spot, and due to the proximity, she had to shift her head slightly up to look at his face. She slid her right arm around his left,

carefully looking at him to see any kind of reaction that might show discomfort, and when she noticed his smirk slowly and barely making an appearance, she relaxed next to him, fitting half of her body under his arm, with his elbow resting on her stomach and her head on his upper arm. Half way through the movie, with their ice cream tubes forgotten on their coffee table, Y/N looked back up to him, and even though she's been doing it every two minutes, Harry knew she wanted to say something this time. He doesn't look at her, though, thinking it might shy her away, but right when he was trying to concentrate back on the film, he heard her say something.  It was barely audible, almost like she didn't want him to hear it. Did he imagine it? Maybe he's so deprived from her and her touch and her words that he's finally going insane.  Harry looked at her this time, and looking straight at her grey eyes so closely for the first time in two months felt like a thousand fireworks exploding violently on his stomach.  "Did you say something?" He looked at her confused, and the look on her eyes is so hard to decipher he thinks she definitely said something she's scared to repeat.  "I miss you." Y/N repeated herself, barely louder. But then he knew for sure he didn't imagine it.  His Y/N missed him. For so long Harry thought he was losing her, that after distancing himself from her she finally realized she not only didn't want marriage, but a relationship with him at all. But she missed him. And he missed her.  "You miss me?" He asked, almost like he didn't believe her, his tone was low and his voice sounded deeper that ever.  Y/N nodded, but she felt pathetic. She felt like he didn't miss her like she missed him, maybe he didn't miss her at all. For two months she's been feeling like he wanted out, that this relationship felt like an obligation to him.  Harry felt her slowly sliding away from his arms, and that's when he realized he's been so stuck in his head he still hadn't replied.  "Don't," he quickly grabbed her by her thigh with his hand closest to her body "please, don't go." She stayed still in her place, looking at him with soft but sad eyes. "I miss you so much, Y/N." Harry turned on his spot so he's facing her, and softly cupped her jaw with his free hand, caressing her cheek with his thumb. "You have no idea." He whispered, slowly getting her face close to his while closing his eyes. He kissed her forehead so lovingly she literally burst into tears. Y/N's soft sobs alarmed Harry, lifting her head up by his hold on her jaw. "Please, don't cry baby. It breaks me when you cry."  Y/N shifted on her place so she was with her body facing the back of the couch, her knees pressed against it, but she tilted her body to the side so she could hug Harry. She slowly draped her arms around his torso, resting her head on his chest.  A sigh of relief left Harry's lips, resting his chin on top of her head while he hugged her back. One of his arms was resting low on her back, while the other one rested on her shoulder, his giant hand cupping her head to softly caress her hair.  They stayed in that position for a long time. Y/N could feel Harry's heartbeat, and how it slowly picked up speed when she pressed her lips to his chest. And even though he was wearing a shirt, Harry could feel the heat of her lips through it. He pressed his own lips on top of her head, leaving them there for a while, almost like a very long, still kiss, until he felt her head shift underneath his lips. He pulled away just barely to allow her to look up at him, and when she noticed him quickly looking down to her lips, she stretched her neck up to press their lips together.  It was a short, very sweet kiss. With fear as an undertaste and nervousness written all over her. She was just scared he was going to leave.  When she pulled away from him, she didn't have time to open her eyes as she felt Harry press their lips together again. This second kiss was almost the same as the first one, insecure.  It's funny, if you think about it. How similar their

feelings were and how scared they were of messing everything up with a single wrong move.  Once Harry pulled away from the kiss he initiated, they locked eyes, yet again. But this time, it was written all over their faces how badly they missed each other, and how much they dreaded to feel the effects each had on one another after so long.  The third kiss they shared, it's initiated from both sides, almost as they were able to read each other's minds. Their lips moved in sync, and as Harry softly captured Y/N's bottom lip between his own to slightly suck on it, she put more pressure into it. The kiss slowly started to gain force, passion and need. But she was scared to take the next step. She wanted him to take the full lead, as opposed to what they were used to, just because she didn't want him to feel like he owed her anything.  And then, he did take that step. The hand he had holding her jaw moved under her hair to grab her by the neck, while slowly tracing her bottom lip with his tongue, asking for access to her mouth. And once she allowed their tongues to meet, his hold on her lower back got stronger, draping his arm completely around her waist to pull her closer. That action made Y/N's body lift up from how strong he was holding her, and she took this as a sign to move. She straddled him on the couch, sinking (almost on slow motion) to sit on top of his thighs. Harry groaned in frustration. She's too far away, he thought.  "Closer." He said in a pleading tone, and Y/N complied immediately. She slid her body up his thighs, and he forced her chest to collide with his. The hand that was holding her neck slowly traced her entire spine, to join his other one on her lower back.  Her tongue felt so warm and soft, so inviting. He had always loved the way she kissed him, with so much passion but with a gentleness that was so her. She managed to fully relax in his hold once her hands found their way to his hair, right behind his ears, and he couldn't help but whimper at the feeling of their groins pressing together.  This sparked a burning fire inside both of them. A fire that burned so good they'd rather die caught on it, than to never feel it again.  Harry slowly slid his hands up and down her sides, all the way from her outer thighs to her side boobs. And when he did it for the second time, on his way up he slid his hands under her shirt instead of continuing their path over it. When his hands stopped at the higher part of their path, he caressed her side boobs with his thumbs, doing the same afterwards right below them, and when she finally grinded down on him, letting a deep groan leave her lips, he cupped her breasts with his hands.  But when she pulled away, he dropped his hands automatically.He started eating his brains out thinking he really messed up, he was taking things down a road she didn't want to take yet, which was okay, it's not like he only wanted her body back, but he was scared he made her uncomfortable.  Only then, his dick grew incredibly hard when she grabbed the hem of her oversized t-shirt to pull it up and off her body. Her perfectly perky boobs bounced slightly when Y/N dropped her shirt on the floor, resting her arms on her sides.  He looked up from the lovely sight of her boobs thinking about how badly he wanted to devour them, only to find her with an uncertain look on her face. And he hated it. He hated the thought of her doubting herself so much.  Harry ran his hands up and down her soft stomach, and then slid them up, softly but barely touching her boobs. His destination was somewhere else (for now), and he grabbed Y/N by her neck to pull her close.  Their lips met again in the softest kiss they shared that night so far, and Y/N melted in Harry's arms like the forgotten ice cream behind her. He kissed the corner of her lips as he pulled her hair slightly so he could start kissing her jawline, down to her neck, leaving pepper kisses all over her skin.  When he reached her collarbone he started sucking and biting (she loved when he bit her) knowing he couldn't do it to her neck

due to her job. She let a moan leave her lips, and when Harry slid one of his hands to grab her by her hip, she grinded down on him again, with more confidence this time.  Harry lowered his face a bit more so he could finally reach one of his favorite features of his Y/N, her boobs. He took her left breast in his mouth, sucking on Y/N's nipple, making her whimper and jerk forward, tightening her hold on his brown locks to pull him even closer. He slid the hand that was holding Y/N's hair down so he could pay attention to both nipples at the same time, while using his hand on her hip to keep a steady peace to her grinding. Once she caught up with the slow but rough peace he wanted, he let go of Y/N's hip to grab the nipple he had in his mouth with in his hand, and he pinched both of them at the same time, rolling the hard buds on his fingers, then moving his mouth to the other one.  He spent a lot of time paying attention to Y/N's nipples, nibbling, sucking, groping, knowing damn well they were extremely sensitive (she could orgasm just by nipple stimulation if done correctly, but she really wanted him right now). Y/N pulled from his hair enough to let him know she wanted something else, and when he let her nipple fall from his mouth, he looked straight into her eyes.  Harry's cheeks were tinted a pretty shade of pink, and Y/N couldn't help but admire the beautiful man under her.  He looked at her with such pure eyes, but lustful at the same time. She didn't understand how he could look so innocent but so fucking hot at the same time, it was unfair how angelic he was.  She grabbed a handful of his shirt, to let him know she wanted it off. Once Harry complied, throwing his shirt somewhere near Y/N's, he immediately reached for her cream silk shorts, tugging the elastic band down as a silent plea for her to get out of them for him.  She stood up from the couch, knowing Harry loved when she undressed herself for him, and still in between his legs holding eye contact, she slowly slid her shorts down her thighs along with her underwear.  Harry couldn't keep eye contact for long, though. His eyes were glued to her glistening core that was slowly making an appearance, and he was getting frustrated at how slow she was being.  He sat straighter on the couch so he could reach for her, and slid his hands down the front of her thighs, and on their way up he slowly slid them to their insides, getting close to where she wanted him. He slid one of his hands down again, but this time he grabbed her right leg from behind her knee, to pull it up. He made her rest her feet outside his thigh, which was now in between her legs. In this new position he got a clear view of her pretty pussy, all on display for him.  "So wet, baby." He whispered, and she couldn't help but return her hold on his hair to pull him closer to her. "All for me?" Harry asked her, looking up to stare at her right in the eyes. When she nodded, he hummed in response. "Let me take care of you, it's been so long. You probably need it so much, don't you?" His voice was so fucking deep and raspy she nodded desperately in response. Y/N couldn't handle much teasing, and she let Harry know by tightening her grip yet again, and forcing his face to be so close she could feel his breathing on her.  "Please, Harry." She pleaded. Harry loved teasing her, but he knew it's been a long time, he didn't want to frustrate her much.  He finally licked very slowly up her folds, all the way from her opening to her clit, humming when he reached her sensitive bundle of nerves. Y/N let out a long sigh of pleasure, her eyelids fluttering shut. She felt like she could literally come just by that, and when he closed his lips around her clit, she grind her hips against his lips. He started switching between sucking and pressing his tongue on her clit until he started to move it, creating undefined figures with the tip of his tongue.  They missed each other so much, so so much. And they both knew sex wouldn't magically fix everything. They knew they needed to work things out. But

sometimes conversation needs a little push, something to remind them why they need to fix things. The magnetic pull they felt towards each other was unbearably strong. They needed each other, in every imaginable way, but at that moment, they needed each other's bodies and emotion, no words needed. Just feel each other close.  Harry gave her clit a sweet kiss, and looked up at her while his fingers traveled up and down her folds, until they found their home in her opening. He searched her eyes for approval, and when she whispered a soft 'please' he slowly sank his ring and middle finger, knuckle deep. She whimpered loud at the sudden pressure, and he groaned at the tightness of her hole.  He rested his forehead on her navel for a second to let her adjust, and when he felt her grind on his fingers, he held her gaze while lining his mouth with her clit yet again. Harry started to work his fingers in and out of her, sucking on her clit. But what turned him on the most was her slow grinding on his face and fingers, like she was fucking his fingers nstead of his fingers fucking her.  Harry used his free arm to slide it under her leg that was up on the couch, and grabbed her ass with a tight grip to pull her even closer.  The pleasure was beginning to feel overwhelming, the pressure deep down on her belly begging for release was making her desperate. Y/N's moans and breathy sighs were becoming louder and consistent and the way he could feel her legs slightly shaking gave away how close she was to her release.  Harry wanted her to make a mess on his face, so badly. He lowered his head and replaced his fingers with his tongue, not before he moved his fingers one last time to massage her spongy spot at the front of her insides. He fucked her with his tongue as he used his soaked fingers to stimulate her clit, circling in the fast and rough peace he knew she enjoyed so much.  Her insides felt like a rocket about to launch, between his moans sending vibrations through her entire body and his fingers stimulating her clit the way she exactly needed, she became a moaning mess. Y/N couldn't comprehend how she was still standing up, even though Harry's arm under her thigh was holding most of her weight up, her knees were about to give up soon.  "H-Harry, I'm so close," Y/N spoke as clearly as possible, knowing her panting was messing with her words, "please don't stop." He admired the way her jaw tightened and relaxed, her mouth opening shortly after, making a perfect 'o' with her eyes pressed shut.  With one specific movement of Harry's tongue, she finally let go. With her eyes rolling back she let a couple of continuous 'fuck's quickly leave her mouth. Her entire body jolted forwards, bending a bit over him while his mouth was still attached to her core, helping her ride her orgasm, making it last for as long as possible.  Y/N pulled Harry away from her with her grip on his hair once it became too much, and looked down at him. Without a second thought she bent down to lock her lips on his, with so much force it threw him back into his original seated position on the couch.  "Take your pants off, now." She demanded, but adding an almost inaudible 'please', mostly for her. He happily obliged, taking his boxers down with them, imitating her previous actions. His cock sprung free, and he hissed at the feeling of freedom. Harry was so focused on her he didn't realize how painfully hard he was. He could feel his own heartbeat thundering in his chest with so much force it was almost alarming. He needed her so, so badly. Once his pants and boxers were thrown and forgotten on the floor, she straddled him.  Giving him a quick but soft kiss on the lips, she began making her way down his neck, reaching back up again to (what she knew) was his most sensitive spot behind his ear. Y/N sucked a small bruise, and he whimpered. God, Y/N loved those small noises he made. She kissed her favorite beauty mark on the right side where his neck meets his shoulder, and that small action alone made his heart feel like someone was squeezing and

twisting it. He missed those small loving details from her.  Y/N kept making her way down his chest, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses all over him, not forgetting to suck and nibble at his nipples. She loved taking care of him. All of him. And the way he enjoyed her playing with his nipples was something he was always scared of admitting, but he knew he didn't have to ask her to do it, because she just knew.  She sunk down to her knees, still sucking and licking the skin all over his stomach while caressing his thighs (Oh, those thighs). Y/N finally grabbed his dick and slowly stroked him all the way from his base to the tip, collecting some of the precum leaking from his deep pink, swollen head. He groaned loudly, lifting his hips to fuck her fist once. She took that as a sign to lower her head even more, his cock now in front of her face.  "Want my mouth, baby?" She tapped her plump lips with his tip, and when he looked down at her, she moved her closed lips around him, almost like she was using his precum as lipgloss, her hand still slowly moving up and down his length. She got him hypnotized. "Hmm?" She raised her eyebrows at him.  "Y-yes, please." He heavily sighed. His begging made her drip down her thighs, he knew how much she loved it, and she knew he loved begging too, maybe even more than her. She always took such good care of him.  She swirled her tongue around his tip once, then proceeded to lick up his shaft a couple of times like his dick was an ice lolly. Once she finally wrapped her lips around his tip, he sighed in relief, and relaxed his shoulders. Harry's hands grabbed her neck to pull her head down, and she surprised him when she suddenly deep throated him before even working her way there.  "Fucking hell, Y/N." He moaned when he felt her humming around him. Harry grabbed her hair making a shift ponytail, to help her get her hair out of the way, and using his grip on it to lift her head, her mouth left his dick, and he smirked at the small pout on her lips. "You are so perfect." She ignored him and tried to lean forward again, which made him smile at how desperate she was. He let her get what she wanted, allowing her lips to wrap around his tip again. She licked up his slit and swirled her tongue around him, and hollowed her cheeks to suck on his tip. She took more of him in her mouth, using her right hand to work on his base and her left to gently cup his balls and play with them.  Harry knew he wouldn't last long. It's been a while since they've done anything remotely sexual, and his hand... his hand wasn't her. So even though he could get himself off, nothing in the world would compare to how it felt when it was his Y/N pleasing him.  His breathing became irregular as she bobbed her head up and down his length in a steady rhythm, and when she tugged on his balls he knew he had to pull her away right that second, or he would come. And he really wanted to, but not like this.  "Baby, please," he tried to pull her head away with a tug on her ponytail, but she didn't oblige. Instead, she looked up at him through her eyelashes, still bobbing her head up and down on him, and that sight alone could make him come in a heartbeat. But he kept it together. "I wanna come inside you, p-please."  And that made Y/N pull away, her mouth making a 'pop' sound when she let his dick fall from her lips. She then straddled him, her hands finding their home right behind his ears, grabbing him by his hair, while his made their way around her body, hugging her close. His dick fit perfectly between her lips, and Y/N grinded on him to feel his wet cock slide through her folds, creating the most delicious friction. Harry kissed her passionately, trying to pour everything he felt in the kiss. And Y/N did feel it, because she was trying to do the same. They repeated the action a couple of times until she reached in between them to grab a hold of him, positioning him on her opening.  And when she finally sank down on him, they locked gazes. They sat still, connected. They were so close. They felt so close.  Harry

nudged her nose with his, softly brushing their lips together. He then noticed a single tear run down her cheek, and reached for her face quickly. Right before it got in her mouth he caught it with his thumb, and she leaned in his touch.  They didn't say a word. Just sat still.  With Harry caressing her cheek, and Y/N looking straight into his eyes. Y/N leaned forward to capture his top lip between hers, leaving the sweetest kiss, repeating the action with his bottom lip. After, she went for the right corner of his mouth, his cheek, his jawline, his pulse point, behind his ear. And repeated the exact same trail on the left side of his face, finishing with his top and bottom lips, one last time before starting to slowly grind and circle her hips on him.  Harry just couldn't stop staring at her. The amount of love and adoration he held in his heart for that woman was beyond words, and actions. And he then understood. He understood that he could live a life without marriage if it meant living it with her. He could handle it. He would get over it.  He involuntarily dropped his head back and shut his eyes with so much force, while hissing through gritted teeth when she finally lifted her weight on her knees, sliding up on his dick until he was almost entirely out, only to sink back down roughly, going so deep it made both of them moan loudly at how tight she was.  She slid one of her hands around his neck to grab him by his chin, forcing him to look at her. Y/N kissed him again, and this time their kiss was messy and desperate, between crashing teeth and loud moans due to her fucking him with all she got.  She let go of Harry's mouth to sit straighter, using his shoulders as support to move faster. This position gave Harry a view he wouldn't trade for anything in the world. He could see his cock, so drenched of her arousal, and her pussy taking him so well. The wet sounds leaving their connected centers were magical, so erotic, accompanied with the small whimpers and moans coming out of her perfect lips.  Harry thought she looked like a fucking goddess, with her round and perky tits bouncing up and down every time her tight pussy took him entirely.  "You're being so good, baby. Letting me fuck you just how I like it." She whispered to him, staring at his heart shaped, swollen lips. The lips she was so addicted to.  "You take such good care of me, angel. Always." He replied, looking into her eyes which were still glued to his lips. She licked her own, and moved forward to crash them against his on another messy kiss.  They both were so close. Harry couldn't understand how he managed to hold his release for so long, but he was proud of himself.  Y/N separated their lips for a moment to make him suck her point and middle finger, which he complied immediately, knowing exactly what she was doing. He then watched her lower her hand between their bodies again, but this time to reach for her clit, where she started to gently rub circles, stimulating herself.  Harry started thrusting up with force, to meet her halfway, tightening his grip around her middle. Y/N bit down his shoulder to stifle a loud moan, which only made Harry thrust faster.  "Please come for me, Y/N, I wanna feel you come all- all around my cock." He managed to plead between breathy whimpers. And it only took a few more thrusts from him to make her insides explode in the most blissful sensation, like electricity running all the way from her belly to her toes. She stiffens in his hold, her inside walls tightening and clenching so hard it almost sends him out of her, making his balls tighten right before he lets go. She could feel him emptying inside her, his spurts of cum filling her up, leaving both of them exhausted, satisfied and utterly fucked.  None of them moved for a while. Y/N's breathing calmed him, almost like a lullaby, and the way Harry was gently stroking her back made goosebumps erupt all over her body.  Without any warning, Harry stood up, making Y/N wrap her legs around him, she hissed through the feeling of his dick moving while still

inside her, and she bit down his shoulder again. She didn't question what he was doing, she didn't care.  Harry sat her down on a cold surface after turning the lights on, and when she opened her eyes she realized he sat her in their bathroom counter. He put some space between them so he could finally look at her again. The fact that they barely spoke during sex today (when they were usually pretty vocal) made everything so... different. Not in a bad way, though. It made them both enjoy sex as the pure performance of just loving someone. No need of crazy positions, weird kinks or edging each other the way they're used to. Just love. The need to feel connected. The need of physically demonstrating each other's love. How they are each other's entire world.  "I'm gonna clean us up, okay?" Harry told her softly, and she only nodded in response. She leaned in to give him a soft kiss, which honestly caught Harry off guard now that the sexual act was over. But made him happy nonetheless. She was scared of him shutting her out again. But he was scared of her getting tired of him.  He knew she was a free soul. She wanted so many things, and settling down to start a family like he wanted to wasn't in her near plans, maybe in her plans at all. And he knew that. He understood it, and he respected it. He just thought about how badly he truly wanted that life with her. He was just scared she would let him go.  They both looked down and hissed the moment he slid out of her. Harry had the perfect view of their mixed cum dripping down her core, making a mess on the marble counter under her. And Y/N saw his dick twitch at the sight, but decided against commenting on it. Even though it made her slightly smirk.  Harry took his time cleaning both of them, and Y/N didn't look away from him. Not even for a second. He lifted her up again and literally sat her down on the toilet so she could pee. They've done this a thousand times, it was normal for them, she wasn't modest about him seeing or listening to her pee.  After they brushed their teeth next to each other, stealing curious looks (especially Harry at Y/N's boobs through the mirror), they went to bed together.  And for the first time in two months, she rested her head on his chest, with his arms wrapped around her.  The only thing she didn't notice was that once Harry knew she was asleep, he couldn't keep it in. He cried himself to sleep that night. But it wasn't any different from what he was used to from the past couple of months.  The only difference was that this time, he knew he'd give up his dreams if it meant he could keep her around.  &  The next morning, Y/N felt something, or someone, shift behind her. She knew it was Harry. His arm was thrown over her waist, resting dangerously close to her boobs (she secretly loved the way Harry seemed obsessed with her boobs) and she could feel his breathing hit the back of her neck.  She hugged his arm closer to her body to let him know she was awake, which made Harry shift even closer, cup her left breast and press his pretty pink and warm lips to her neck.  "Good morning." She said with a breathy laugh, her morning voice was a sound that drove Harry mad. She sounded way too sexy for her (or his) own good.  "Hi." He nuzzled her neck with his nose, "how'd you sleep?" He left another lingering kiss, this time below her ear.  "Amazing. Haven't slept this good in a while." She replied honestly, wiggling her body back towards him so their torsos were pressing together.  "Mhm, me too." He whispered, tightening his hold around her, his morning wood pressing on her lower back. She could already feel the pool of her arousal in between her legs, and when she arched her back so now his dick was pressing against the curve of her ass, he groaned in her ear.  He slowly started to grind himself against her ass, moving down on the bed a bit so he could better his position. And when she grinded back against him, he reached in between them to position himself on her opening. He pushed the tip in, just enough to feel her tight hole around

him.  "Can I?" He asked her to make sure they both wanted this. When she sighed deeply in pleasure and murmured a 'yes', he slowly thrusted into her, both moaning a bunch of profanities.  They both were huge lovers of morning sex. It increased their moods during their days, helped them relax and carry their days with a carefree feeling. So, he fucked her. Hard. Not even close to how loving they were last night. He woke up with an unbeatable energy, and he wanted to take advantage of it. He fucked her in the position they woke up in. He turned her to her stomach and fucked her while (almost) laying completely on top of her (she loved feeling his weight on her) and he fucked her on all fours, only to end up in their initial position, with her back against his chest on their sides, so he could play with her clit to help her come.  That morning they spent it in bed, Y/N made them breakfast, Harry read a book. They both knew they needed to talk, but they wanted to enjoy some time where everything felt normal between them again. So they avoided the topic.  But the conversation they owed each other kept being pushed. And for another two months, everything slowly started to feel normal again.  Usually, avoiding conversation will lead up to more hurting. But with Y/N and Harry, it ended up becoming a realization point.  Harry got in terms with the fact they wanted different things. He decided she was worth anything and everything in the world, because she was his world. But what he didn't know was that Y/N spent those entire two months imagining what a life like the one Harry wanted with her would be like.  And after one day, on Harry's 28th birthday, during a small walk they were taking on Central Park, she realized she would do anything in the world to make him the happiest man he could ever be. She kissed him so passionately that day, interrupting their walk. He looked at her with a confused look when she pulled away with the brightest smile on her face. But that smile made him confirm he was willing to give up his dream of getting married.  That's why in mid February, Y/N found herself shopping in a very expensive jewelry store. She knew Harry liked that place since his 'H' and 'S' rings were from there. They had an amazing section of handmade rings that she spent a long time going through. She wanted to pick the best one she could find.  She found the prettiest, most fine silver ring with a red stone adorning it's top. She knew he would love it. It definitely didn't look like the typical engagement ring, but nothing about Harry was typical. It would match the rest of his rings lovingly, and Y/N knew he would simply love it. Not only because it was a pretty ring, but because it would mean something big for them.  Three days later, Y/N came back from work to find Harry sitting on their living room couch watching the forecast. Why? Who the fuck knows. He never watched cable TV.  Y/N just stood there for a while, just staring at him.  "Hi, love." He greeted her. "Are you alright?" He asked with his eyebrows furrowed. The crease between them made an appearance, even though it was there most of the time.  "Hey." She finally moved, dropped her keys on the little bowl sitting on top of the small table in the hallway. "All good, gonna put some comfy clothes on really quick." She lied. She just couldn't wait any longer. Watching him sit there all frustratingly beautiful doing absolutely nothing was fucking annoying, it was so unfair how beautiful he was. She had an entire evening prepared but she just couldn't wait any longer. She wanted to do it now.  She dropped her purse on their bed and quickly got rid of her shoes, but didn't change into anything comfier. She just grabbed the small black velvet box from her t-shirt drawer and went back to the living room, sliding it in the back pocket of her jeans so he wouldn't be able to see it.  Harry looked at her with a confused look, wondering why she was still in her work clothes walking directly to him when she said she wanted to change.  She sunk to her knees in

between his legs, which only made him even more confused. "You sure you're alright?" Harry gently asked her. She just hummed in response and grabbed the remote sitting on the coffee table (moving as little as possible, she didn't want him seeing the small bump on her jeans because she knew he would ask about it), and turned back around.  She rested her ass on her ankles, and her arms on top of his thighs. "So..." she started.  "So..." Harry repeated, confused.  "I love you, so very much." Y/N started and Harry's breath got caught in his throat. He wasn't expecting this at all. "So much, you don't even understand." Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. They haven't told they loved each other in so long, scared of the other not saying it back. God only knows why, because it was clear as water they still loved each other with their whole beings. "And I know we both always wanted different things."  This is it. Harry thought. She's breaking up with me.  "And I know there are some things I believe that you will never understand, and there are some things I- I didn't understand, for a long time." Harry furrowed her eyebrows further at this last part. Now he truly didn't understand what she was trying to say. "For so long I thought I wanted something, you know? Like I was sure I had it all figured out for myself, the life I wanted. But I actually- I was searching for a life that wasn't mine. And I didn't realize that what I already have is everything I could possibly want." Y/N's cheeks were flushed, tears streaming down her face so fast they were drenching his hands that were now pressed against her cheeks, softly caressing them. "I know now, that love is about finding common ground. Meeting each other's needs. And sometimes we have to step out of our comfort zone to do that. And I came to a conclusion." She swallowed the big lump on her throat, and that finally allowed her to let a long breath leave her chest. "I love you more than anything in this world. I hope you know that, and I know I struggle sometimes with letting you know how much I adore and admire all of you. But I promise to do my best today, and for the rest of my life, to make sure you know how loved you are. How much I'm willing to do for you. And this took me a while to understand, but I do now. I understand why you felt like you needed to take that 'next step' with us. And I understand why it'd make you as happy as you always said. So, it'd make me really happy to ask you to," Y/N reached her pocket and heard him gasp when she pulled the box in front of him, revealing a beautiful ring for him, "marry me." Harry was speechless. Truly, ultimately speechless. Not only was the love of his life asking him to marry her, she was saying she truly wanted this. Harry's gaze kept going from the ring back to her eyes. And after a while of no one saying anything, Y/N cleared her throat. "H," she whispered, "Will you marry me?" She asked, the soft tone on her voice and the question he dreamed so many times asking her knocked him back to life.  "Yes, yes, Y/N, yes- oh Y/N-" he choked a sob, and the biggest smiles appeared on both their faces. Y/N threw herself to him, wrapping her arms around his neck so tightly. He helped her straddle him so he could wrap his own arms around her.  They held each other for a few seconds, both crying the happiest tears they ever let drop, and when she pulled away to put the ring on him, he surprised her by crashing their lips together.  They shared their most passionate kiss in the entirety of their relationship, both still crying, smiling, spilling so much love and adoration with each stroke of their tongues. When he pulled away, she finally placed the box in between them again.  "Can I put it on you? I know you like to wear your 'H' ring on your ring finger, so we could put it somewhere else, you know? And make it our own thing-" Harry interrupted her giving her a soft peck, "or we could-" another kiss, "I don't know." She finally gave in, pressing her lips harder against him.  After another long kiss, he finally told her

where he wanted his ring, and with a last kiss he patted her ass to let her know he needed her to stand up.  "Wait here." He pointed at her, and she sat on the couch with a soft 'okay'.  He returned moments later with his hand behind his back and a lopsided smirk. He sat in the same position she was for her proposal, in between her legs.  Before he said anything, he moved his hands in between them, opening a red velvet box. She gasped like Harry did moments ago when she saw the beautiful ring with a small red stone (yes! Like his own ring) placed on top of a very thin and delicate silver band that was sitting inside the small box.  "It was my grandmother's." Harry said in a quiet tone. "She gave it to me before she passed away a couple months after we met, remember?" She slowly nodded, lifting her gaze to meet his eyes. There was so much love written all over his face. "I told her you were it for me. I knew I wanted this with you ever since we met at our university library. She gave it to me in hopes I could... give it to you some time." He gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I kept it hidden from you all this time. Didn't want you to find it and make everything weird between us. But I'd really love if you could, um... wear it if you want?" He shyly asked.  "It'd be an honor to carry her ring with me, Harry." His face lit up so fast at her response.  "Yeah?" He asked, perplexed.  "Yeah." Y/N replied with a big smile.  "Will you marry me, Y/N?" He asked her this time, and she couldn't help but giggle.  "I asked you first." She pecked his lips. "But yes, Harry. I'll marry you." And she kissed him again, and he couldn't help but smile so widely she ended up with her lips against his teeth.  After putting his grandmother's ring on her, they shared another night of pure, loving sex. None remember how many times they made each other come, but they did have another important conversation between rounds.  "Something else I wanted to tell you..." She said, in between kisses (they loved giving each other soft small pecks all over each other while they were talking). She was straddling him in their bed, his back against the headboard. He didn't want to pull out of her just yet, keeping his cum inside her for as long as possible.  "I know you're ready to have kids, like, right now." She said, and he raised his eyebrows playfully at her. "I can tell by your breeding kink, honestly." He let a loud laugh leave his chest, making her smile too. It was honestly hilarious, I mean, look at their position.  "I decided I really want to have kids with you." He gasped, "But..." he sunk down in his position, a visible pout on his lips, which she kissed away from him. "Promise me you'll wait for me, until I'm in my 30's" He locked eyes with her. She really wanted this. So much.  "Only three more years?!" He asked with so much hope.  "Three more years and we can start trying, I promise. I just thought that- that we could get married now, have some time as a married couple, you know? To enjoy ourselves." She shrugged and he couldn't help but smile widely and her, nodding frantically. "That way we are both adapting to each other, you know? Meet halfway our wants."  "God, I love you so much." He chose to say, instead of replying straight away. "I'll wait a lifetime to have kids with you if that's what you wanted, just please- decide before you reach menopau-" He couldn't even finish his sentence since she shut him up by putting her hand over his mouth.  "Don't even say it. God, I don't wanna be old." She sighed in frustration.  "I honestly can't wait to grow old with you." Harry said with such a loving tone, like an enamored teenager, hugging her closer to him. And she couldn't help but smile back at him. Because even though ageing scares her, she's ready to spend the rest of her life with him.  "I love you, my angel." Y/N told Harry, before kissing his lips, yet again. 

"I love you, my Y/N." Harry whispered to her, keeping her face close to his. 

X

Thank you so much for reading! Have a lovely day <3

-Joey

[smellycinnamonthundahfudge]

The Black Widow Essay

one of em anw, lol

i'm just gonna start with the very beginning of the film, cause start to finish, they put so much detail in and you can tell everyone really cared to make natasha's story as full & vibrant as they possibly could.

them showing how early on she liked dying her hair or was used to it, even as a child?

as well as such innocent sweet things as this scene

all possibly subtly hinting these girls’ physical capabilities and their dark upbringing or who they really are as spies???

just, how seemingly normal child like things could be subtle hints toward something darker??

but it was STILL something innocent and sweet nevertheless whether they were able to do that cause of their training??

LOVED THAT.

the fact that NAT HAD FRIENDS??? WHEN SHE WAS A KID???

so important to me...

(cause they didn't really need to add that,... but they did)

how the whole operatives pretending as fake families made perfect sense cause they do it all the time in spy movies…

and how yeah, if there were child spies, then they could be used for spy families,

but this was the first movie that DARED to talk about the complexity of it all…

of a fake family being the only family that you had.

I bring this up because I just fucking love it and it reminds me of what they did in wandavision

rushed holidays and birthdays and normal family occasions all in one, because that was all they could get…

the idea of fake empty families in both bw and wv and jac schaeffer being involved with both of em??? gods im in love hahahah

in other spy movies, it’s just so plot focused…

they’re disguised as this to get to this and blablabla

they don’t dare to talk that they were more than their mission

that they have interests hobbies hopes dreams AND LIVES, beyond their work

(say what you will about captain marvel, but I will repeat, it was the first to show women had lives interests hobbies dreams beyond the work that they had...)

i just... the spy families thing is always so plot-centric, but this one, the infiltration aspect had an emotional side to it since it meant that they could all get a reprieve from their normal horrific lives

that's what i ADORE from this film, when they do something, they always hit for the most emotional, most moving, compelling way it can be told or shown

because, all this time we’ve been told, she’s a child assassin, she’s a child spy, she started when she was young dadadaaa

in other movies, they probably could’ve explored this by showing the violence

what was done to her, to show the meaning of what they did to her…

but you know what I absofuckingtutely die for??

they showed the meaning of the violence through this

that BECAUSE of what was done to her…

she could do that

SHE COULD PROTECT SOMEONE ELSE FROM SUFFERING THE SAME FATE AS SHE DID

all, in the first FIFTEEN 15 FUCKING MINUTES…

I just love how the never endless mention of the child assassin thing

the heaviest meaning of that was so beautifully shown like this…

like, YEAH

THIS.

THIS IS WHAT BEING A FUCKING CHILD ASSASSIN MEANS.

SHE’LL STEAL YOUR GUN, SHOOT TO KILL

ALL TO PROTECT HER INNOCENT, YOUNGER, SISTER

oh wait, I also just love the action of the plane scene

it had so much stakes, I was genuinely panicked and fearing for all of them..

melina was shot, nat was flying the plane, yelena was a terrified baby, alexei was even hanging from the freaking wing…

it wasn’t just weightless action, random kicks and punches on screen…

it was a family fleeing for their lives.

I just wanted to commend the incredible stakes the creatives made sure to put into the film’s first action scene is all.

they could have phoned this in and just have hopper punch some dudes

but they WANTED you to root for this family

they WANTED you to feel scared for them, care about them.

THEY CARED.

the first action scene nat ever did, was to protect her sister…

they could have shown her take down some men following after them…

but they DECIDED for nat to show her full capabilities… when it would matter most.

THEY CARED.

AND… NO ONE, NOT NEARLY ENOUGH PEOPLE ARE TALKING ABOUT IT.

you know what I love about the budapest reveal??

they could have just kept it at the clarifying what actually happened thing

and all of us in the audience can revel in the fact that

shooting it out with the hungarian guard and blowing up a building

was in nat’s eyes

just like a literal alien invasion of floating monsters descending from a portal in the sky

just… bask & appreciate the comedy of this guys…

nat’s so funny, I cant…

no okay, they could have just kept it at that…

but they decided to add WHAT HUMANITY THEY COULD IN THAT BACKSTORY.

and they had nat & clint play tic tac toe in the air vents they were hiding out on…

they didn’t have to do that, but they did…

and not enough people appreciate it enough.

people are already talking about how excellent and wonderful it was, the conversations and commentaries on choice are and I’m only here to say YES MORE OF THAT SHARE IT TO EVERYFREAKING ONE GODDAMN IT

in most marvel movies, the female character & the hero usually just either butt heads or the female just helps out the hero in whatever they need to do, they’re the infallible support structure that keeps the hero up

I think… this is why the dynamic between yelena and nat, hits so goddamn hard…

your pain makes you stronger

so much of this film talks about how their pain made them stronger, the best example of this I believe, is the scene in cuba

what I said about the child assassin repetition all concluding to that “I will kill you all, DON’T TOUCH HER” scene…

her pain was LITERALLY what enabled her to do that.

but I bring back the film’s crux line, cause it’s what I think truly separates and makes yelena and nat’s dynamic so much richer more complex and beautiful to me…

the pain of their past.

nat’s insistence of their time together in america not being real, and her dismissing everything in her past as a widow of the red room as horrible and just something she needed to get away from…

it reminds me of a scene from a show my family watches,

new amsterdam. in it, a woman, escapes a house of neglect and abuse. but she also left behind her younger sister in that household, and naturally, feels deeply guilty about it.

but, her therapist said to her, “you saved the only person that you could.”

and, … I can’t think of anything better to fit nat’s situation.

her dismissal of everything in her past as horrible was a fucking coping mechanism…

it made leaving everything behind, easier…

“it wasn’t real, so there isn’t anything to hold onto” nat herself says

she saved the only person she could… herself.

sigh…

most marvel movies usually just have its theme as “be who you were meant to be”

tony, thor, quill, & rocket learned selflessness

peter parker learned to appreciate what HE had, and not focus on what he was escaping from and to

steve figured out who he was in a new world

t’challa reckoned with the sins of the past

(scott’s just a dad)

carol learned to own her power and who she truly was

but nat??

yeah, sure, she could also fall under that theme.

but I just… I honestly believe the abuse, the pain she endured… makes her arc so much more meaningful and poignant…

because it wasn’t just the hero struggling, then the female side character reassuring them & giving them the strength they needed to be who they needed to be

it was her reckoning with what she did…

it was her shutting off yelena who cared about her, because she didn’t want to think about what she left behind

it was her, keeping her heart… when her mother could not.

how despite melina felt she was a rat in a cage

what SHE taught nat, was what kept nat alive…

the pain nat escaped, still found its way to her, in that because of that pain, she caused pain to the little happiness that she had in her past

she caused pain to yelena, because it was all she could associate to her past, which she NEEDED to escape

pain was inflicted on her, and she inflicted pain too

she also just casually stated her mother throwing her out like garbage

was I the only one who was utterly shaken by her statement??

to only then after say, she thought of her everyday even if she didn’t admit it to herself

(don’t even get me started on this search & importance of her past to her being fucking hinted in the place she died, vormir, where she learned her father’s name.

how even after she defeated dreykov… she still didn’t know it, til then…)

I just…

the creatives put so much effort into making nat’s story so full of heart, humanity, and meaning…

the humanity of tic tac toe over hiding out from an army

playing in the yard and colorful dyed hair hinting the dark upbringing

reckoning with what one did to survive…

black widow, is such a heartfelt humanely painful and beautiful film…

it isn’t just another spy movie

it isn’t just another marvel movie

they talked about abuse in it, guys…

they acknowledged it, unflinchingly

the good, the bad, all of it, the entire truth of it…

that alexei wasn’t allowed a chance to be forgiven for what he did

that he can wash himself clean, and that they give him their forgiveness, for HIS benefit…

that it was the very pain inflicted on them, that enabled them to take their abusers down

You think I can’t take a punch?

it was literally her pain threshold & strength that enabled her to break free from dreykov's control

her capability of severing the nerve borne from the training she endured

her pain was literally what made her stronger

they made sure to show that oksana and antonia wouldn’t be forgotten

they let the other widows do their part

and the ones the family saved, came back for them and saved them too

even antonia, as taskmaster, had someone who cared about her. the young widow who told her to smile, went to her when she was no longer controlled.

it was fighting for control, it was looking & focusing on what WAS there

just like how nat learned to accept that not all of her past was horrible,

I want to show you how this movie shows that not all of how nat was treated in the mcu was horrible

the thank you for your cooperation scene, yes

but, one parallel that I haven’t seen anyone bring up yet is this one…

nat did her job, and it’s how they took down hydra

nat did her job, and that’s how they took down the red room

because of nat’s intelligence, due diligence, they had the intel they needed to take down hydra

and to find and save the other widows…

because that’s precisely why I would die for this film…

they. care.

they remembered that small, for most people forgettable, thing that she did- BUT WAS ACTUALLY THE KEY TO THE WHOLE THING

AND MADE DAMN SURE TO SHOW & HIGHLIGHT ITS IMPORTANCE IN HER FILM.

(her copying the data needed to SAVE THE OTHER WIDOWS IN THE WHOLE WORLD WAS GIVEN THE FOCUS & ENERGY NEEDED TO HIGHLIGHT THAT SCENE'S SIGNIFICANCE CAUSE W/O THAT DATA, THOSE WOMEN WOULD BE LOST)

they KNEW that HER COPYING THAT INFO in the lemurian star in tws IN THE FIRST FUCKING PLACE is HOW NICK FIGURED OUT HYDRA’S PLAN

AND DECIDED TO FUCKING PARALLEL THAT TOO IN HER FILM CAUSE THEY KNEW THAT DESPITE HOW SMALL THAT SCENE WAS, IT WAS ACTUALLY THE KEY TO THE ENTIRE THING

they know the significance that nat’s story has, how it’s about abuse, and what it does to people

it makes them want to run away & dismiss everything that happened as purely horrible

sometimes, it makes them betray people (like melina & even to some extent, nat…)

they did all this in a marvel movie

the importance of choice, control, autonomy, of women’s lives, every aspect of it

the mundane, their intelligence, their pain, their relationships, their humor & happiness & love…

this was a marvel movie, starring women, produced by women, written (jac schaeffer, wv creator too), directed (cate shortland), and edited (leigh folsom) by women.

this was an excellent beautiful painfully heartfelt luminescent movie, from start to finish.

so much care compassion complexity & love, woven into the story

they cared about what nat DID manage to do in the mcu, not that she was forced into the sidelines

(though, honestly, I think that line about nat never letting herself be alone long enough to figure out what her story is was such an interesting & cool way of acknowledging it…)

nat never spoke much in the films, and they went with it, she’s not the inspiring speech type, she herself says

behind the scenes, they were making nat look as cool as possible with those poses

but in this film, they made it HER character trait

that SHEEEE, WANTS TO POSE LIKE THAT.

I just think that’s so funny… a cute character trait of her wanting to pose all the time and denying/not acknowledging it??

I think it’s a sweet & funnily humanizing trait of hers :’’’))

they made her funny like that, heh…

most mcu movies, they have arcs, they have great interesting moving stories…

I just think this film is chockfull of love over natasha romanoff, a hero, an avenger’s story…

they put so much in to give her as full of a life as they could… a complex, heartbreaking, painful, happy, tragic, loving, human life…

most mcu movies… they’re so plot focused. find this, follow that.

for me, this film wasn’t.

it was women getting their control back.

behind the screen, and on screen, it was women getting their control back…

after a decade and more of getting bits of meaningful crumbs here and there, the creatives of this film gathered all those up, and built a full complex life and story from it…

it dealt with something so real and tragic but also beautiful and full of love.

I don’t think most mcu movies did this.

and it’s why I wrote all of this.

give credit where it’s due.

black widow is the most heartbreakingly painful and beautiful film marvel’s ever made…

it was a full and concise and finished and complete story, start to finish, about the hero who’s earned it, the goddamned most.

acknowledge what they did with this film.

it’s what they, nat & the creatives, deserve.

acknowledge it.

they didn’t work this hard to give nat such a meaningful loving & complex life and family and story, only for it to be called lesser

than films who tackle their themes in much shorter times

and with themes that aren’t as rooted in reality

acknowledge what they did.

acknowledge it.

I’m not really that knowledgeable over what framing and lighting really means…

but I think those details mean something

how their life at ohio, playing in the yard was flickered with sunlight, and fireflies

how it turned to night when they were forced to flee and return to russia

how it was night when they first entered the red room

but then there’d be more and more light as nat had progressed with their plan, with beams of light, flashing through the window behind her

and then once the dust had settled, the sun was rising on them, the survivors.

but… the most poignant & meaningful of all these lighting shots that I found…

was nat’s endings,

when she said goodbye to her family…

it was almost like, she was saying goodbye to us too…

with daylight, shining all around behind her, as she walked away and whistled her goodbye

this happening with her goodbye to her family

and with her official final shot of her, heading into the horizon, to her destiny

saving the universe, and saving her family

they cared so much to give her these beautifully poetically luminescent images of her, guys…

my heart breaks as I don’t see anyone else acknowledging this…

so please… acknowledge it.

acknowledge, what they did.

acknowledge it.

[ewdaviddd]

folklore think piece

for a lower case album such as this, i will be writing a lowercase think piece on the subject. i will not explain why. you get it or you don’t.

the 1: i have never been in love or any type of romantic relationship that left me with lasting feelings of any kind. but, on my fourth listen through of this song today, what once was just a promising and fun intro to this peasant girl summer gut punch, brought me to actual tears as i sat on the toilet in my lime green childhood bathroom as if i were mourning the one that got away (another great song). however, i am an expert on being hung up on the past, the “what could have been”, and made up hypotheticals. this song also introduces the film motif seen a lot in this album. i think dating an actor has really gotten to her. anyway what a killer way to begin, top notch stuff. how can a song be so fun and so soul crushing at the same time?

cardigan: when did taylor wear black lipstick? this is important to me. an old cardigan is an inherently bisexual article of clothing. that is not an opinion. i read it somewhere today and i believe it. this is the tip of the queer-coding ice berg in folklore, never fear. another reference, “tried to change the ending / peter losing wendy”. this year i wrote a movie script where both peter and wendy were both gay. coincidence? probably. basically this one is classic taylor poetry on every level and it being one of a trio in a larger story makes it that much better. yet again, high school romance is not a universal experience (like for me for instance) but haunting my “what-ifs” is going to haunt me for a long time. and the thought of someone saying i was their favorite cardigan makes me want to scream into a pillow.

the last great american dynasty: my favorite ts songs have always been the ones with detailed characters and stories and this one introduces the trope of the “mad woman” who comes back later on as well a long with many fun character details. at first this song is just cheeky and cute, very visual, a fun world to jump into. but then this particular stretch of lines makes your heart drop into your chest and reminds you why taylor isn’t just always fun and always cute and always creative, she also holds the ability to nimbly sock you in the gut when you least expect: “fifty years is a long time / holiday house sat quietly on that beach / free of women with madness, their men and bad habits / and then it was bought by me.” my jaw is still on the floor. and i’ve never bought a house myself. but i’ve spent numerous christmases having a marvelous time ruining everything (so i’ve been told) so this song still applies to my life.

exile (ft. bon iver): i’m gonna be honest. for as long as i can remember i have strongly disliked bon iver and i never remembered why. it is a matter of principle at this point. i just don’t trust him. but then taylor announced she wrote a song with him which filled me with tremendous anxiety. but i can rest easy. much like “the last time” this song is a ts and male artist collaboration i can get behind. also the film motif again: the only time i’ve left a theatre when i didn’t like a movie was never because movie tickets are so expensive and if i’m shelling out 11 dollars to sit in a chair, i’m staying the whole time no matter how bad the ending. but i probably would have left my sister’s keeper if i had seen it before if i’m being honest. so i get it. thats why i read spoilers for everything i watch before watching it, because the anxiety of worrying about how it ends make me not enjoy it in the first place. the end of this song: the call and response felt… ethereal? i felt like i was watching a broadway musical from the splash zone seats, crying as i was spat on.

my tears ricochet: this song is what i picture stepping outside in the middle of the night when an inch or so of snow has just fallen and i can see the flakes fall in front of a street light sounds like. or the scorned secret ex lover throwing themselves onto the coffin demanding to know why they weren’t enough.   which is to say it feels like a sign from some sort of god. yet again, haunting is brought up, an overt reference to the fact that this album will live in my brain rent free for eternity. for some reason this song reminds me of the relationship between hamilton and burr when burr kills hamilton. that could be because i just watched the disney+ recording last week. one lives, one dies, but neither survive, both pay for it. Which is a super romantic and understanding view on murder. both musical experiences equally chilling and moving. if i die under mysterious circumstances this will for sure be played at the funeral.

mirrorball: first off, this is my mom's favorite which is very important. also, it has skewered a very specific but also universal insecurity of mine; existing just to please others and yet miserably failing. it is comforting that ts is not a “natural’ and feels she must always “try try try” because i too lack natural ability, but also rarely “try” even just the one time. the best way i can describe listening to this song is walking through a silent disco where everyone else is listening to some classic lady gaga jam and you are listening to a calming lullaby sung very far away. but don’t let the soothing sounds fool you. it still will have you reflecting on what it means to look and be looked at. a dark rabbit whole, like falling through the looking glass. i’ve never actually read that book though so i could be wrong.

seven: i’m dumb and on my first listen of this song i thought she “hit her peak” at 7 clock as opposed to age seven. but i always saw taylor swift as someone with an early bedtime. also a fun discovery while writing this, “seven” is the 7th song on the track list. clever. although this song is young and innocent and so nostalgic for a time when screaming ferociously was a widely accepted form of expression, it also sounds like a very old secret someone is whispering to me. a love from long ago that lasts beyond the person being in your life, passed down to me and it all just sounds a little gay. not just because of the specific line to hiding in the closet. but that certainly doesn’t go unnoticed. when i was seven i was definitely in love with girls and assumed that was just what friendship was, playing pirates and making plans of running away together.

august: the eighth track for the eighth month. her mind. also my birth month so that’s special. controversial opinion: from what i’ve read most people seem to think illicit affair is the third song in the triage of teen love. i will strongly make the case that it's actually this one. first of all, the subject: a short lived summer fling, which is specifically mentioned later in “betty”. the central heartbreak of this song is liking someone who always belonged to someone else. yes, this song is a window into a different summer, far from pandemic central and the escapist imagery is delightful. but a whole song from the pov of the “other woman” to james and betty is just so much more fun. and there are two more specific lyrics that prove my point. “remember when i pulled up and said "get in the car”” you will see later comes back from the other person’s perspective. and most of all: the repeated line, “meet me behind the mall”? only teenagers make plans to meet up behind a mall. i rest my case. so now we have cardigan and august. two pieces of the puzzle.

this is me trying: i’m glad i now have a succinct message to send to anyone when they ask me what the hell i’m doing at any given moment. this song just sounds like regret and waste in the most self-assured and confident way. this is “back to december” with the training wheels off.  i have no apologies for my efforts at wasting all my potential. but in this song, taylor has opened her arms to me in a warm embrace and has forgiven me for all i’ve done wrong and reminds me to not take for granted the “try”. okay mom. i’m crying again, but okay.

illicit affair: this is the kind of thing that makes you feel sixteen, living in a dull suburb, while secretly screwing your 38 year old married neighbor who’s rich but wants to be an artiste. aka like a character in euphoria or something. it’s sexy and dangerous until you think about it and then it's just dingy and creepy. but this song starts and stays beautiful. most importantly, this song is too sad and depressing frankly, to be a part of the trilogy. we could never forgive james for leaving such a mess and making her a fool. you don’t want to be this girl. you want to walk up to her and shake her and yell “you exist and will not be ruined by any dumb man”. and that’s feminism.

invisible string: is it reductive if i say this one’s about joe? all my non-stan friends have asked me which ones are about him. we forgive them and point them in this direction. because it is lovely and beautiful that we are all tied to our soulmate for our whole lives before we ever meet them (because that would in fact mean that there is someone out there for everyone which might be naive or dumb but i am both of those things and whats the point of living if you don’t believe in the power of love). this honestly gives me “begin again” vibes in the best way. it’s red-era level with the wisdom of lover-era tay. sublime.

mad woman: the second mention of the “mad woman” as both taylor herself and the character in the story. as usual, tay stays calling out double standards and the manipulation of women into “going crazy” for expressing reasonable anger. I, personally, wish i could say “fuck you forever” without someone saying i’m “overreacting”. this is my least favorite song on the album and i’d still listen to it three times in a row and need to resist the urge to set a man’s lawn on fire. just girly things.

epiphany: i know she said this one is about her grandfather’s experience in the military but all i imagine is a slow montage of harry style’s character in “dunkirk” on the beach. and it’s beautiful. and much like my sophomore in high school self reading “all quiet on the western front” it evokes a pain from deep inside me that engulfs a loss i could never describe and a sadness too awful to witness. you will listen to this song and feel absolutely powerless to the will of the universe and it’s cruelty. and the faint but steady heart monitor beep in the background… i’ve never seen “grey’s anatomy” but i can imagine why it has so many fans sobbing. and let me end on this: two soldiers in some old war (meaning both men based on dunkirk) watching each other like this and living and dying together…gay.

betty: the first verse was pulled directly out of my subconscious fantasy of being in love in high school and it being so wonderful and painful and dramatic. and taylor riding a skateboard… is a mood. the song has been out for less than a week and it’s already a cold take to talk about how this is her gayest song to date (close runner-ups being reputation’s “dress” and “cardigan”). but of course i will still talk about it. the lyrics embody such authentic awkward gay energy (see the lesbian in booksmart for reference) and having been a 17 year old only three years ago, i can say with reasonably good authority that no 17 year old straight boy could stand in front of a crowd of peers and beg forgiveness from a girl he hurt. it’s just not realistic. these are all awkward, over-dramatic, young girls stumbling through love. and it’s awesome. james is the speaker of this song, and the subject of “august”, the summer fling that was never truly there due to james’ love for betty, the titular role of this song. thus completing the love triangle. and there are so many obvious references in this song to both “august” and “cardigan”. rhyming cardigan with car again makes me want to light myself on fire in the best way. i love it. “i dreamt of you all summer long” is the final nail in the coffin for the girl in “august” who was clearly just a place-holder. totally separate from taylor swift, my favorite word is porch. so the amount of times it appears in her lyrics is wonderful. say it out loud. it just feels nice. anyway, this song makes me want to be young and dumb and in love. the second can really only be tolerated because of the first and third. i hope the story has a happy-ending. if james were a boy i’d wish him the plague.

peace: the coming-of-age movie starring james and betty (and inez) is over. we have come to “the age” i guess. there’s a thought that’s gonna fester. if this song was just the line, “would it be enough if i could never give you peace?” over and over for four minutes it would still smash me to pulp and fill my body with helium gas. i can and will cause a car wreck when this comes on the aux. if this song is what being grown up is like (bare in mind grown up to me is like, 30) then i’m ready to be done coming of age. because i already worry if i’ll be at all enough for anyone and way too much for someone at the same time. but like all good poetry, this song isn’t about what it “means”, but how it “feels”. and this is new york city, the summer, pouring rain, a long walk home, desperately fearing and hoping they are there waiting for you.

hoax: a one-sided conversation between me and my stubborn clinical depression. i too, constantly stand alone on the cliff demanding a reason. one has not yet been presented. it operates both within and and against me. i could be bigger and stronger than it. but instead i tend to it like a prickly plant. (“no other sadness in the world will do”). there is nothing both sadder and funnier then the scene in “avatar: the last airbender” when prince zuko stands alone on a cliff screaming at the sky for lightning to strike him. i don’t know why this song reminds me so much of that. what a way to end such an emotional rollercoaster. it is so emotionally draining that it simply forces me to start folklore again from the top and listen to it all over again.  or take a long therapeutic nap.

there are no skips. and it will still surprise you on your 267th listen. proceed with caution.

i knew you, in a past life maybe. i have not met you yet, but folklore has made me believe you exist.

@taylorswift 10/10 good work

@taylornation this had to be shared and i don’t have a twitter so

[courtingstars]

Notes for The Vanishing Prince: Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight has been posted! I don’t have nearly as many notes this time. (Which is good, because it took me a lot less time to draft this post. XD;) Still, I did want to bring up a couple of things that I thought might be worth mentioning.

And as always, I updated the inspiration board for this fic over on Pinterest, so feel free to check out the new images if you feel like it/have access to Pinterest. (The most recently added images are at the top, so when you scroll down, you’re basically going backwards through the story.) And with that, onto the notes...

(Cut for the ramblings of a writer who overthinks everything, and also some very important notes about omurice, because I LOVED writing that part…)

Akashi and His Mom, Plus Heian Poetry

This is basically just a note to say that I really loved being able to write the scene with Akashi and his mom. <3 I think it’s the first scene of them together that I’ve posted online…? (Though I’ve written lots of scenes where Akashi talks about his mother, or has a very brief memory of her.) I wrote something short about them for Mother’s Day years ago, but I never finished it, sadly. So it felt nice to finally be able to include a glimpse of how I see their interactions.

Also, the part about Japanese poetry is indeed a thing! A lot of the Heian-era poetry in Japan revolves around themes of courtly love, and because of how courting worked in that time period, they often feature various forms of pining-for-your-lover-from-a-distance. So like Akashi says, there was a folk belief that if you were missing your lover enough, you would appear in each other’s dreams, so that you could at least be together in the dream world. Like this site about the poet Ono-no-Komachi explains, “the intensity of one's feelings for one's lover could induce him to appear in one's dream or could cause one to appear in his dreams.” I always thought that was a fascinating concept. (Also the idea that Akashi would be studying those poems at six years old is just really funny to me? But anyway. //laughs)

Akashi’s Issues, Poor Guy

I don’t want to go into too much detail here, but I thought it might be worth mentioning… One of the things I really wanted to explore in this fic (and the series as a whole) is the reality that working on mental health problems can be a very difficult and often nonlinear process. While it’s not the only plot line of the story—and I definitely don’t claim to have done a great job with it by any means, though I try my best!—I felt like it was important to take the time to show how a person’s struggles with mental illness don’t just get solved overnight. Akashi has been fighting a lot of the same problems throughout the series, because these kinds of emotional hang-ups and coping mechanisms aren’t easy to change.

To be honest, it felt somewhat counterintuitive to me as a writer, because back when I was trying to publish original stories, there was this idea that you weren’t supposed to write characters “brooding” for too long or repeat the same issues/mistakes over and over. Basically, the characters needed to show growth quickly, and passages that could be seen as repetitive should probably be cut, because they weren’t “progressing the story.” While I can understand that idea in a writing sense, I tend to feel like it’s not a very fair representation of what it’s like to struggle with mental health. (Which also applies to a lot of other kinds of personal issues/growth as well, honestly. Change is just hard in general.)

So I’m definitely trying to walk a balance between not writing the same scenes over and over, while also showing Akashi’s struggles as an ongoing journey for him. The latter was really important to me, both as a writer, and as someone who’s had cycles and setbacks with my own mental health stuff.

Bokushi Is Still Kind of an Asshole, Lol

On kind of a similar note… I have no idea how Bokushi comes across as a character at this point in the story? //laughs But if anyone finds him to be kind of a jerk, I will say that’s an intentional choice, at least. Ideally, I wanted him to be likable but still flawed, and I do find him hilarious personally, but… Hopefully it’s obvious that I don’t think he’s a perfect person, by any means. XD;

I think I’ve said before that I really want to use this storyline as a chance to explore my view of his character—and the why/how of how his personality differs from Oreshi—in as much detail as possible. Hopefully it ends up coming across as nuanced in the long run… But if nothing else, I hope it’s at least fairly interesting to read! Because I do find him extremely interesting as a character.

Omurice!

So here’s my major cultural note for the chapter… I’m guessing a lot of people are already aware of the fact that Furihata’s favorite food in canon is omurice, since it tends to pop up in AkaFuri fics a lot. For anyone who’s not familiar with the dish, omurice (a borrowed compound word for “rice omelet”) is a Western-inspired Japanese dish that’s extremely popular as a comfort food. (This type of Western-inspired cuisine is generally called yoshoku. Which I think I also mentioned in Storming the Castle, but… it’s been awhile? //laughs)

So basically, omurice consists of pan-fried rice that’s usually seasoned with either ketchup (often considered the more homey/classic version) or demi-glace sauce (more often seen in restaurants). Like in a lot of fried rice recipes, vegetables and meat are added to the rice, and then the whole thing is served beneath a super-fluffy egg omelet. It typically looks like this, or this. I’ve made it before, and enjoyed it way more than I expected. So while I was writing this chapter, I couldn’t resist preparing one of my own (for research purposes of course, lol):

I’m not a good cook, to put it mildly, but I was proud that this one came out a little better than the last time I tried it. XD

To me, the coolest thing about watching someone prepare omurice is the part where they plate the omelet... This can be done a few different ways, and some take more skill than others. (I totally cheat, by making a single-layer omelet and just setting it on top of the rice as best I can. XD) The most difficult way (and the way Furihata does it in the fic!) is to layer the omelet on top of itself while you’re cooking it, so that it becomes a kind of pouch that you can slice open over the rice. There’s a great animation of this process over on my Pinterest board, and I also really recommend two videos on Youtube if you’d like to see more… This clip features an amazing chef from the most famous omurice restaurant in Kyoto, and this one is an iconic scene from Tampopo, a classic Japanese film. To learn more about the context of those clips, and about omurice in general, I also recommend this really fun article about it.

The thing I find the most interesting about omurice is that it’s such a popular comfort food, so it’s often associated with home and family life. That’s why in The Fast Train to Kyoto, I was inspired to have Furihata’s mom make him omurice when he’s having a bad day. At the same time, though, the dish can also have a bit of a “lovey dovey” connotation to it? Like how in this survey it was one of the top foods that Japanese guys said they would like their girlfriends to make for them. (Hence the trope of decorating the omelet with a ketchup heart, as Bokushi mentions, in his extremely Bokushi way. //laughs)

For all these reasons, I tend to think of omurice as the perfect favorite food for a character like Furihata. It definitely inspired how I write about him, especially when it comes to things like his family life as well as his romantic side. <3

So How About All Those Storming the Castle References Huh

This is just a quick note to say that if anyone happened to be confused by some of the references in this chapter, a lot of them were referring back to events from Part Two of Storming the Castle. (Like the first time Furihata saw Akashi’s dad, the huge portrait of Akashi and his parents in the ballroom, the butsudan altar, the secret passage with the stairs, the ghost, etc, etc… Also the character of Ginhara, since he’s the butler who runs the mansion in Tokyo.)

I tend to be pretty indecisive about exactly how much detail I should use to explain something that happened earlier in the series… Since I know some people might not have read the earlier fics, and at the same time, I don’t want to be too repetitive for those who have? In any case, if anything was confusing/unclear, it was probably a callback to that story. (Oh, and there was also a callback to The Fast Train to Kyoto, about when Akashi and Furihata talked about becoming friends!)

Well, that’s it from me this time around. Thank you so much for reading, as always. As I mentioned in more detail over on Ao3, I really hope everyone is staying safe where possible, and supporting each other in this difficult time. I will do my best to get the next chapter posted very soon. <3

[amydancepants-peralta]

#28 from the Fictober prompts! I absolutely adore your fics! Xo

Here’s a little bit of fun for you, Anon!  😊

#28 -  “Enough!  I heard enough.”

Set in S7 😝.   (A thousand thank you’s to @b99peraltiago for helping me with this one!  You’re the best Adele 😃)

classified information

“Enough!  I’ve heard enough.”  Shaking his head in defeat, Jake slaps one hand across his brow, wedding band feeling cold against the bridge of his nose.  Taking in a deep breath, he tries to regulate his thoughts before letting his hand slide further down.

The knife-twisting-in-his-gut feeling that came from a betrayal like this didn’t seem to be subsiding.  If anything, as his hand slides down towards his neck and Jake looks over at his wife, the feeling was only getting worse.

She has the decency to look morose as she watches him react to her news, eyebrows knitting together to form that are you okay expression that has pulled so many confessions out of him in the past.  Her eyes and wide and sincere, and he knows - he knows - that she never intended to hurt him.  

“I didn’t mean for you to find out like this,” she whispers, eyes full of regret as she takes a tiny step closer.  Instinctively, Jake takes a responding step backwards.  “I wanted it to come from me.”  Her voice firmer, she shakes her head.  “It should have come from me.”

Jake shakes his head.  “Doesn’t change what happened.” He’s being petulant, he knows.  But he just can’t believe what he’s just heard.  He tells her as such, shaking his head as both hands land on either hip.  “I can’t believe you didn’t call me.”

Amy’s shoulders drop, her hands moving to fold in front of her chest as she watches him carefully.  “I couldn’t have, Jake.  You know that.”

Realistically, she’s right.  He knows that she’s right.  And what’s worse - he knows that she knows that he knows she’s right.  But the truth still cuts like a knife.  “Not even a text, Ames?” he mumbles, casting his eyes to the floor before looking back up.  “A sneaky photo or two?”

She sighs, her shoulders rising and falling with the action, and suddenly he’s desperate for the feeling of her arms around him.  “I’ve told you already, babe.  It was - ”

“Classified information.” They say it in unison, Jake’s tone noticeably less interested in the importance of such a concept.  

There had been less than an hour left in his shift when he first heard the whispers - that there had been a theft at a film set not far from the precinct.  He’d shrugged, less than interested - Brooklyn was often the go-to location for film shoots.  This was New York, after all. And after his less than favourable foray into TV sets, Jake had made it a personal rule not to get involved in the trappings of Hollywood. 

Then the rumours began to grow.  It’s a High Profile set.  A big star is involved, they said.  So big, that only the Sarge is involved. 

And to be honest, when Jake heard Sarge, his mind went straight to Terry.  To him, Amy was just Ames - his wife; his moon and stars … the love of his life.  He rarely referred to her as Sarge. (Except, you know, occasionally.  For Sexy Reasons.  Because, when somebody as sexy as Amy Santiago stands in front of you in full uniform and tells you to start stripping, you comply.)  

And then he remembered that Terry was a Lieutenant now, and that the Sergeant they were referring to was most likely Amy, and Jake grew a little more curious about this supposed Big Star.  He’d even sent her a text, mentioning the whispers, and when she replied only a moment later with an It’s no big deal, babe - nothing exciting, he’d pushed it all out of his mind.

Turns out it was, in fact, a big deal.

A big deal, because the secret celebrity that Amy met with today, was none other than Bruce Willis.

Bruce Willis.  

AKA, John McClane.

Jake’s wife, Amy Santiago, had met Bruce Willis today.  And she hadn’t even called him.

Or texted.  

Or snuck in a sneaky selfie, immediately-erasable-via-Snapchat-stylez.  

She had touched the brightest star in the cosmos, and hadn’t even brought him back a sparkle.  

There were so many things wrong with this situation, Jake genuinely didn’t know where to begin.

In the end, it was Gina who spilled the beans.  Which was impressive really, considering she didn’t even work at the Nine-Nine anymore (and there would be some who debate if she ever really did).  Sending Jake a text about how ‘ya wife had just upped her cool points by spending the afternoon with Bruce Willis’, and ‘also do you think Arnie could ask Bruce if he would attend my next book launch party?’ - a text that Jake had stared at for a solid five minutes, distracted only when Amy swung open the front door of their apartment, finally home after what had obviously been a huge day.  

Her smile had been bright, and on any other day Jake would have pulled her in for a kiss, but the idea of Amy meeting his childhood hero and not telling him was still hanging over Jake’s head, and he found himself rooted to the spot.  

It had taken her mere seconds to confess, in a way that in hindsight made Jake realise that she had, in fact, wanted to tell him all day - but hearing the details was turning out to be worse than not knowing at all.

Because not only had Amy met Bruce Willis, she got to walk around a film set ALL DAY with him.  Met his co-stars - interviewing various actors for information regarding the case; having lunch with him when the clues took longer to catalog than she had anticipated.  Shared his salad, in fact, when she realised that she was allergic to all the options available at craft services.

All of this, while Jake was sitting at his stupid dumb desk, writing up boring paperwork for his mundane grand theft auto case.  

Sometimes, life just wasn’t fair.  And so he raised his hands in surrender, calling out Enough!, and for now their apartment was quiet.

He feels his head drop, and in a second Amy’s gentle hands are on his arms, and it’s like a drop of water in the middle of a desert.  Jake’s arms are around her waist in a millisecond, pulling Amy closer, sighing as the comfort of the touch of his favourite person.  They stay like that for a few minutes, both of them too comfortable to move, until Jake pulls away with a mumble about taking a shower.  

She offers her company, and he shakes his head no - unable to push away the morose feeling that was hanging over his head, a heavy storm cloud threatening to break at any second.  It must be obvious to her, how he’s feeling (and in a way, it probably always is), and he watches her face turn from contemplative to confused, arms returning to their crossed position in front of her chest.  “Are you … angry at me about this?”

Jake shrugs, noncommittal in his response.

Amy’s eyes narrow into an all-too-familiar look.  “Jake, I was assigned this case because of my discretion.  Of course I thought of you when I realised who I was interviewing today.  But I had to be careful, babe.  If we’d compromised such a publicised case like this … it would have been disastrous.”  Her forehead creases as she looks down at the floor.  “What’s more, it would have reflected poorly on me.”

Jake feels his heart drop down to his feet as the realisation that his reaction to Amy’s day has only made her doubt herself.  He knows that in the larger scale of things, he was probably overreacting to it all.  Perhaps it was the fact that his birthday was around the corner, and he was getting closer and closer to facing that number 40.  Or that whenever he’d brought up the topic of the upcoming celebration for said birthday, his friends and colleagues seemed less than enthusiastic about doing anything with him.  Whatever the reason, he just couldn’t shake the feelings swimming around his mind.  Clearing his throat, he looks up at Amy, waiting until her head has lifted before speaking.  “I’m not angry at you, Ames.  I’m not.  I just … it just kills me that I wasn’t there.  And that I found out from Gina.”

Amy’s mouth twists slightly.  “I get that.  I was trying to get home to tell you as quickly as I could.”  She hesitates.  “Honestly, if anything I would’ve expected it to come from Boyle.”

“BOYLE?”  Jake replies, eyes widening.  “Charles was there?”

Her teeth sink into her lower lip.  “Kind of, yeah.”

Will this horrible day EVER end?  He shakes his head, despondent, repeating his need to take a shower.  Perhaps, if he tried hard enough, he could wash this whole thing away.

*

An hour has passed when Amy runs her hand along the back of Jake’s shoulders, the familiar scent of her favourite perfume wafting over him as she moves from the back of the couch to stand in front of him.  He looks up, trying his best to plaster on an I’m fine face, a mask he knows she can see straight through, already feeling ridiculous for such petulant behaviour earlier.  

She smiles, reaching her hand out for his.  “You and I need to get out of this house, babe.”

His hand grabs hers, as automatic an action as breathing by now, and shakes his head.  “I’m not sure I’d be the best company tonight, Ames.”

Her fingers squeeze, tugging slightly until he’s being pulled from the couch.  “You’re the only company I could ever want, Peralta.  Now come on, let’s just grab dinner somewhere.  I’ve got the perfect place in mind.”

Jake’s nose is buried in a game on his phone for the majority of the drive to their destination, and when Amy pulls their car into the parking space he looks around in confusion, eyebrows knitting when he doesn’t recognise any of the storefronts his eyes catch.  “Ames?” he asks, turning towards his wife, cocking his head to the side when she winks in response.

“So maybe I’m not thinking dinner after all,” she giggles, pointing towards the sign just slightly outside Jake’s peripheral.  An oversized panel, with flickering fluorescent letters spelling out Johnny’s Laser Tag lights up the otherwise dark carpark.  “I think that maybe you need to blow off some steam.”

He smiles, the first genuine smile in what feels like the entire evening, nodding enthusiastically when she mentions that she’d also ordered a pizza to be delivered to the same address.  She really is his Dream Girl.  And it was ridiculous of him to have reacted the way that he did.  

The apology is still forming in his head as he follows her into the building, not noticing the lack of literally anybody else until they’re well past the front lobby, Amy’s hand tugging him towards the central game zone with an eagerness he hasn’t seen all night.  He’s trying to slow her down, pull her back towards him for a second, when suddenly there’s a bright flash of light, and an overwhelming shout of SURPRISE!

He’s blinking in confusion and Amy is grinning and he can hear the unmistakable squeal of an overexcited Charles somewhere in the background, and when all of the elements finally merge together in his mind, Jake realises that just about every person he has ever met is standing in front of him, smiling from ear to ear.  There are happy birthday banners and balloons and streamers and music playing in the background, and he’s so happy that he could just about burst.  Without hesitation, he pulls Amy in for a kiss, so full of joy and love and gratitude for her that words have completely failed him.  

It’s another hour before he notices Amy checking her phone almost obsessively, brushing off his questions with her multiple methods of (admittedly successful) distraction.  He’s one more glance away from pulling her into a quiet corner so that he can finally figure out what is on her mind when she checks her watch and grins, pulling him to the centre of the room and using her best Librarian Shush to pull the room into silence.  

She announces to the crowd that while they had all been incredibly successful in surprising Jake that evening, there was still one more tiny surprise up her sleeve.  Boyle, doing a terrible job of keeping his cool, saunters through the crowd until he reaches the front door, swinging it open with such a flourish Jake wonders if perhaps his friend’s true career path is on stage in Broadway.  

The thought is fleeting, however, because immediately after that, his heart stops - jaw dropping in shock.

In the doorway, smiling and holding out a celebratory bottle of wine, is none other than Bruce Willis.  

Bruce Willis, his favourite actor ever and the man behind the character that convinced Jake to join the NYPD, was at his birthday party.  

In the days to come, stories would be retold of Jake’s party at the local laser tag.  They would mention how drunk Gina got before challenging Boyle to a dance off (which ended, predictably, in disaster); how handsy Amy got after a few drinks and kept pulling her husband into the darker corners; and how Terry had challenged Rosa to a row of shots before failing terribly three hits of tequila in.  

But Jake’s favourite memory, and the one he will treasure forever, is of him and Bruce (because they’re friends now, and friends call each other by their first names, just like he and Bruce do), strapping on laser gun holsters, McClane Stylez, and dominating the Laser Tag zone like they were saving Nakatomi Plaza all over again.  When he retells the story, Amy will roll her eyes, telling whatever audience that the two of them took things way too seriously, and that by the end everyone had just given up and let Jake play out his Die Hard dreams.  

Afterwards, the actor had told Jake about how incredibly good Amy was at her job (information that was not new to Jake at all), and that when she had solved the on-set theft so quickly and discreetly, dropping by to meet her husband (or his number one fan as Amy had put it), seemed like the least he could do.  Even admitted that maybe the stories he had heard from Reginald VelJohnson had stemmed from a misunderstanding, promising to set the story straight next time the two met.  

Later that evening, when everyone had returned to their homes and Amy’s Holly Gennero costume had made a welcome resurrection, Jake would hold his wife close to him, whispering apologies for his earlier reactions.  She understood him, in a way that nobody ever really had, and having her beside him was truly the best part of any day, hands down.  And the fact that she had managed to pull off the greatest surprise ever, only made him love her all the more.

Plans to get in contact with Will Shortz before Amy’s birthday in September run through Jake’s mind as he closes his eyes, the soft sound of Amy’s gentle snores lulling him to sleep.  If he got to meet his hero, it seemed only fair that Amy would get to meet hers.  

(With any luck, this puzzle master would be a little less gorgeous.)

[theshinsun]

brace urself, this is for the writing meta ask: 2, 6, 7, 14, 17, 19, 20 (if you need a direction for this... I always wanted to hear more about Bring Me Roses), 21, 22, and 24 bc i'm nosy and still very into your craft. thank you buddy!!

2. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

I'm so excited/terrified to finally start my knb college AU. I've been sitting on this idea for almost two years I'm so ready but at the same time I'm so not ready.

The gist is it's every single self-indulgent, chaotic, projection-ridden idea I've ever wanted for these boys all rolled in a big ball of shenanigans and character growth. It's a beautiful mess and I can't wait to make it happen as soon as ANR is done.

6. What character do you have the most fun writing?

This is gonna come right the fuck out of left field, but I love writing Himuro. I have so much fun writing just... snark, and that boy is the perfect outlet, there's no bottom to that salt mine. I remember getting a similar kick out of writing Tsukishima in the past, I just live for sassy dialogue. It ain't much but it's honest work.

7. What do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? Would others agree?

My style is very present, I think (which is funny bc there was a time I never would have considered writing present tense) focusing on what's happening and how it makes the character feel in the moment. I like to write specific, detailed imagery, but I try to keep it short and relevant to the scene, so I can move along and focus on what's important. I wouldn't call it fast-paced, exactly, but it is pretty to-the-point. And I think, based on the feedback I've received, that people who read my fics might agree with that. I've heard that my writing is very personal and character-driven, and I think that might be a byproduct of the time I spent writing in first person. Now I write almost exclusively third person limited, but I still like to get in the character's head and tell the story from their "point of view", I guess. 

14. At what point in writing do you come up with a title?

It depends almost entirely on how quick I'm able to come up with a pun lol. Sometimes a fic has a title before I've even written the first sentence, sometimes I have to scramble for something, anything in the last few seconds before I publish it. A lot of the time I'll have a working title like "that one really fucked up aokaga oneshot" for pretty much the duration of writing a new fic… and a lot of the time I'll end up using song titles, even though we're past the days of writing songfics. 

17. Do you think readers perceive your work - or you - differently to you? What do you think would surprise your readers about your writing or your motivations?

I think, to a degree, people get different things from my writing than I intended -- which is good! The way a piece of writing can be interpreted completely differently depending on who's reading it is one of the best things about being a writer tbh. I think people might be surprised, though, how different my fics often turn out from how I set out to make them. These days I've usually got a pretty detailed outline for what's going to happen, but even with all the preparation in the world, sometimes a fic will take a sudden detour I didn't expect, or something I wrote before will take on new meaning and change the direction I meant to go in. This definitely happens more with my longer fics, but there are times even with oneshots where I look back at what I set out to write, and what I ended up writing, and they're completely different.

19. Is there something you always find yourself repeating in your writing? (favourite verb, something you describe ‘too often’, trope you can’t get enough of?)

I tend to write a lot of scenes with characters talking while in the car (cars are an intentional motif in ANR, but in something like GWGE there's not actually a lot of narrative purpose to this) I don't know why, maybe because it's a convenient way to have characters talk one-on-one, or maybe it's because I've had a lot of meaningful conversations while riding passenger, couldn't tell you, but it's cropped up more than once in my current fics and will probably feature in some of my upcoming ones (the college AU strikes me as a likely candidate), and I think it's worth taking note of.

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

SINCE you mentioned Bring Me Roses, and I never really get to talk about it, pls allow me to go on a lengthy tangent about my most underrated fic of all time. (Like 90% of the reason it's still incomplete almost two years later is because the response when I posted it was so underwhelming, but I still stand by it. Someday I'll finish it, hopefully, if just for myself.) 

I'm so fucking proud of the language in this one. It's not perfect, by any means, but the imagery in my opinion is very strong, and almost every line of dialogue is saying something without really saying it. There are frequent allusions that something happened to Aomine's mother, relatively recently, and that Momoi is worried about him overworking out of grief or guilt, but none of those things are ever actually stated. There's also some pretty heavy implicit flirting between Aomine and Kuroko, even if it's a bit unusual and they're both playing it coy at this stage, the chemistry is there and the interest is mutual. And of course, because it's a florist AU, the flower symbolism… I spent so long researching bouquets, plant husbandry, how to prep and preserve cut flowers, and of course… flower meanings. The main ones that keep getting brought up are dahlias, which have just as many negative connotations as positive ones, including betrayal and instability, but also dignity, creativity and change, and come in a variety of colors shapes and even sizes (Islander or "dinnerplate" dahlias were definitely going to feature in part 2… as well as the connection between them and Aomine's mother). I know a lot of these things might not hit as hard because there's no actual payoff (yet), but still, in terms of "show don't tell" and setting up things to come, I don't think I have a single better example in my fic repertoire, I really went all out with this.

It's a shame I never got to follow through, but I got the impression that there just wasn't a lot of interest, and even if that alone is kind of a dumb reason not to continue, after I worked so hard to pull off what I did, the lack of response really killed my motivation. (I wonder sometimes if it would've been better received if it was an AoKaga fic… actually, I don't need to wonder, I'm sure it would have been, but that's not the story I set out to tell and I'm not going to change it.)

21. What other medium do you think your story would work well as? (film, webcomic, animated series?)

Oh, I'd love to do some of my fics as comics. I even tried it at one point; GWGE was going to be a comic originally, before I decided a multichapter fic would probably be less exhausting (the first couple pages are still floating around in my art tag somewhere, though this was back in high school so the quality is… heh).

22. Do you reread your old works? How do you feel about them?

Yeah… I reread a lot. Usually while I'm working on a new chapter, I'll go over the ones that lead up to it to make sure I don't repeat the same phrases too much and that the continuity lines up, and I'll also admit to going back and just reading my own fics for fun. Sometimes the only one who's written exactly what I want to see is me. 

How I feel about them depends on the fic… some of my older ones are a mix of nostalgia and cringe tbh, but there are some I still genuinely enjoy revisiting from time to time. 

24. Would you say your writing has changed over time?

Oh hell yeah. For… better and worse, honestly. I feel like I've lost some fluidity and confidence in my writing, and it sometimes turns kind of stilted, so I try to overcompensate which results in pretty jarring changes of tone, but at the same time, I've gotten much better with rhythm and syntax, my grammar skills are always improving, and I'm able to incorporate a lot more intentional meaning and subtext without always stating things outright.

[douxreviews]

Spider-Man: Far From Home (2019) Review

Quentin Beck: "Don't ever apologize for being the smartest one in the room."

Half teen romp in Europe, half superhero extravaganza, this is most definitely unlike any Spider-man movie we have ever seen.

While tonally hewing closer to Spider-Man: Homecoming, this installment (which is the third version of a Spider-Man sequel) was a lot of fun. I won’t go into spoilers, especially when I talk about characters. However, I did want to mention how this particular version of Spider-Man is now the most prolific on film having been in five movies to date (Captain America: Civil War, Spider-Man: Homecoming, Avengers: Infinity War, Avengers: Endgame and now this movie). I don’t know how many appearances Tom Holland signed up for but since the producers and director are already talking a Spider-Man 3 I would assume at least one more.

As far as spectacle goes, this was bigger than the Homecoming, but more intimate than Infinity War or Endgame, with an adversary that creates personal stakes for Peter. His friends are more fleshed out, especially Michele and Ned. Ned continues to be a wonderful foil for Peter and a true friend and confidant. While Ned does get his own plot in this one, it was played up more for fun and acts as mostly comic relief between moments of drama and action.

Michele, now MJ, is officially a new version of the comic book character Mary Jane Watson and Peter’s main romantic interest. Peter does spend a majority of the movie pining for her and trying to figure out how to tell her how he feels, she isn’t there to be his reward for being a hero. She is strong and independent, her personality is clearly defined and consistent. She has a eclectic and somewhat dark sense of style and humor, and yet is not afraid to be feminine. She has agency and she’s willing to run into danger to protect those she cares about. I wasn’t so sure about her in the last movie, but she might be my favorite character in this one.

The rest of Peter’s group of friends also had moments to shine, especially Betty Brandt and their poor put-upon teacher Mr. Harrington. Flash Thompson isn’t given much to do, but his few moments stood out and even managed to give the character a bit of pathos. Marisa Tomei (Aunt May) and Jon Favreau (Happy Hogan) have a fun subplot that gave each enough screen time, without distracting from the core characters or action. Happy Hogan in particular had some truly wonderful moments as a character we have known for over a decade.

There are three more important characters that I would want to address, but I can’t go into much detail for spoiler reasons. The first is Maria Hill, whose screen time was minimal but had some appropriately kick ass moments. Next was Nick Fury, who wasn’t as fun as he was in Captain Marvel, but was still a highlight. Then there is Quentin Beck, as the mysterious dimension-jumping hero Mysterio. The less said about this character the better, but I have to give Jake Gyllenhaal a lot of credit for making him as three dimensional as he is.

Of course, I have to mention Tom Holland’s performance as Peter. He continues to be the best part of these movies, with this earnest delivery and easy likability. He conveys Peter’s geekiness without overdoing it; he seems genuinely sweet and a little naive and yet manages to be believable when he shows his intelligence. While he spends a majority of this film trying to escape being a hero and just be a kid for a few minutes. Which is understandable for a sixteen year old who was erased from existence for five years, lost his father figure and fought against Thanos… twice. His defining characteristic is that he is good, almost to a fault. That’s just as powerful as repeating the mantra; "With great power comes great responsibility."

There is also the fact that this film is more than just a sequel to Spider-Man: Homecoming. It is also the movie directly following Avengers: Endgame, and of course it has some big shoes to fill as a coda, epilogue and glimpse into the next phase of the MCU. Thankfully it succeeds by addressing the aftermath of that movie head on, and uses the fallout to give all the characters some emotional weight. Yet it also lets itself poke fun at those same consequences, the bizarre and somewhat absurd ways in which the world changed due to what happened in Endgame. I honestly have no idea how this film managed to pull all of that off and still be good.

Bits:

Kevin Feige has stated that Mr. Harrington was in fact the computer geek in the Incredible Hulk. While that is a bit of a recon, it’s about as bad as saying Peter was the kid in the Iron Man mask in Iron Man 2.

While it goes without saying that you should watch the after credits scenes, this time I must insist you stay until the end of the credits. While both scenes are fun, they are also massively important to the MCU as a whole going forward.

Each of the elemental monsters that show up in this film correspond to classic Spider-man enemies while they are never called by name.

Peter wears four different Spider-man costumes in this film. Four. That's insane.

Quotes:

Nick Fury: "We have a job to do, and you're coming with us." Peter Parker: "There's gotta be someone else you can use. What about Thor?" Nick Fury: "Off-world." Peter Parker: "Doctor Strange." Maria Hill: "Unavailable." Peter Parker: "Captain Marvel." Nick Fury: "Don't you invoke her name!" Peter Parker: "I'm just your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man." Nick Fury: "Bitch, please! You've been to space."

This was nearly a perfect coda to the Infinity War saga and a fitting end to the first ten years of the MCU. While it does set up some new things, and is a game changer for Spider-man in particular, it feels like a lovely epilogue to a huge franchise.

4 out of 4 Giant elemental monsters taken down by a man with a fishbowl on his head.

---

J.D. Balthazar is a confirmed nerd who loves most things sci-fi or fantasy-related.

[krreader]

something to remember

pairing: jeon jeongguk x reader fandom: bts warnings: / genre: fluff

summary: it was supposed to be a fun weekend trip filled with nice dates and fancy dinners. but jungkook had more in mind and you honestly hadn’t been prepared for it.

a/n: @glorisit​ THANK YOU BB I HOPE YOU ENJOYED YOUR TRIP AND I LOVE YOU TOO!!!!! I just wanted to say that I honestly didn’t know where I was going with this and just kept writing and then I was done and was like… this is.. kinda good? I love when that happens ahhaha. anyways, hope you all like this ♥ (also, I reALLY wanted to use a gif from the GCF video, but since JK never really films himself, this was the best I could do. so imagine this is you and not jimin lol)

ask box | masterlist | fandoms | faq | multifandom reader blog

Up until you were sat on the plane, you hadn’t even noticed that he had been filming you. He had started the second you two left the apartment, all the way to the airport, when checking in..

It was only when you turned your head from the window to face him, that you noticed he was holding his camera to film you.

“What are you doing?” you chuckled.

Even though he had his hoodie on as well as his face mask, you could see it in the way the corners of his eyes wrinkled, that he was grinning happily.

“Filming you.”

“I can see that. But I don’t understand why you’re doing it.”

“Because you’re pretty?”

You gently pushed the camera down, but only so you could press a kiss against his nose through the face mask, “You’re cute, you know that?”

From the way he was giggling like a ten year old, he seemed to have enjoyed that.

The truth was, this trip was so much more than a casual boyfriend/girlfriend weekend trip. This was something he wanted to remember. He obviously would even without the camera, but he wanted to be able to watch it again when he was old and wrinkly and you and him were sitting on the porch of your house with fifteen grandchildren.

He literally filmed everything.

You arriving in Tokyo, arriving at the hotel, having breakfast, lunch, going on a sightseeing tour. If he wasn’t filming you, he was filming the city.

He documented every little thing and every time you so much as smiled, the camera would be on you and he’d capture the moment.

You went from one date to the next, up until that same night when you had dinner, before retreating to your room. It was only then, that he finally turned off the camera for the night.

“So what’s really going on?”

“Huh?” he took off his shirt and crawled into bed with you, immediately raising his arm, so that you could cuddle into his side.

“The whole filming thing.. I doubt you’re going to be able to publish this, or ARMY will go crazy. They’re okay with us now, but if you post this, they’re going to flock me.”

“They won’t flock you..”

“Remember when you accidentally hinted that you and I have had sex before? Remember that debate?”

True that. But what exactly did everyone expect? That he was still a virgin? That he would be till marriage? Like, sure, he could have been and he wouldn’t have minded if you hadn’t been comfortable with it, but you’ve been with each other for more than three years now. It was only natural that it had happened eventually.

“It’s not for ARMY. It’s for myself. And for you.”

“As like a birthday present?” you looked up at him with shining eyes and he instantly down at you.

“I’m not going to tell you, or it won’t be a surprise anymore.”

“Oh, come on. At least give me a hint.”

“Stop this,” he laughed and pressed a kiss against your forehead, “Now sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

You hadn’t actually known what he had planned, since he hadn’t given you any details beforehand. But like the day before, it was one date followed by the other, one amazing thing that topped the one before. You honestly hadn’t expected a vacation like this, especially because this was usually only something a guy would do for his girlfriend on her birthday or an anniversary. But it definitely wasn’t either of these things, you had already checked. Twice.

The camera was always on, especially that night before your flight back.

Jeongguk had decided the best way to end this trip was to go to Disney for a couple of hours.

You were first looking around the park for a bit, going on a couple of rides, before having dinner in the Blue Bayou restaurant (which was really romantic, by the way). Again, he did not turn the camera off for a minute, always kept it on you to capture every single moment.

But it was never on him.

Well.. not until the end anyways.

You had just wanted to go to the bathroom before the firework would begin and he took that opportunity to set up the camera, crouching down in front of it and smiling happily.

“I hope you’re still with her when you’re watching this. She’s the best thing that’s ever going to happen to you, understood? Treat her right, for the rest of your life and give her all the love she deserves. Or I will come to the future and kick your ass, Jeon Jeongguk,” he grinned, “But for now.. wish me luck.”

“What are you doing?” you laughed as you came back out, “The firework is about to start, come on..”

“I know, I know..,” he rushed to your side and stopped you from walking away when you wanted to, “We can watch it from here.”

“What.. without the camera? You filmed me having breakfast twice, food staining my clothes, but you don’t want to film this?”

“But that’s just one of the things I love about you,” he wrapped his arms around your middle and you yours around his neck, “I love when you’re eating much, because then I know that you’re okay and healthy. I love the sounds that you make when it tastes good, because then I know that you’re happy. And I love it when you tell me you’re full, because then I don’t have to worry about you.”

“What is this?” you laughed, your eyebrows drawn together in confusion, though.

“It’s just me telling you things that I never really told you or not told you enough, but I should have. You know, like how beautiful you are.”

“Jeongguk,” you giggled, “You’re making me flustered, stop this.”

“I haven’t even started,” he quickly kissed your forehead, before looking back into your eyes, “You know.. I used to think that I wouldn’t meet my soulmate until I was much older and not in this industry anymore. I never thought I’d meet you by coincidentally sitting on the same park bench one day and I couldn’t tie my shoe laces together because my hand had been injured. I remember how I immediately fell in love with your kindness, when I only had to look at you with my pleading eyes and you instantly tied them back together. I remember how I fell in love with your eyes when they lit up as you smiled. You know how they always say you meet the love of your life when you least expect it.. and that’s really the truth. The more days you and I spend together, the more I realize that I don’t want to spend the rest of my life without you. And even when we have little fights or arguments, I still never, not once, want you to get out of my life. Because no matter how much my future might change, there’s always one fixed point. And that’s you, (Y/N).”

The more he spoke, the more you began to tear up.

Jeongguk wasn’t necessarily someone that never talked about his emotions or feelings, but never in that sense. Never so deeply. You were truly touched by his words, but even when he was saying all of this, you didn’t think, not even for a second, that he would do what he did next.

“I know we’re young.. and many others are going to think that I’m crazy for doing this. But I honestly do not have a single doubt about it. I know that this is what I want and I want it to last forever.. so..”

“Oh my god,” you breathed out as he pulled out the ring box and got down on one knee with a smug grin.

You didn’t know if he was confident, but he sure as hell loved that he was able to surprise you like this, because you really hadn’t expected this tonight.

“I don’t want you to be my girlfriend anymore, (Y/N). I want you to be my wife. I want to call you mine forever.. so..,” he opened up the ring box, a shiny engagement ring staring at you, “Will you marry me?”

Three years you have been with him. Three years, were you cherished him each and every day as much as he cherished you. And like he had said, there was not one single day, that you wanted your future to be without him. Yes, there were obviously arguments and fights, but they were normal and the important thing was that even during that time, nothing changed.

You loved him, more than anything in the world.

And you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.. you just never thought he would be as serious about this as to asking you to marry him at this age.

But you could see it in his eyes. The sincerity, the earnestness and the love he held for you. This wasn’t just a mood, something that would pass in a couple of weeks and then he’d regret it.

No, he was dead serious about this.

And fortunately for him, so were you.

“I do,” you finally answered and as cocky as he had been, the second the question was out in the open, he had held his breath, now finally able to let it out with a big grin.

“You do?”

“I do,” you repeated and leaned down to kiss him happily, the first tears rolling out of your eyes.

Jeongguk slowly got up from the ground, only stopping the kiss so that he could put the ring on your finger, before he wrapped his arms around you like before and pulling you against him like he’d never let you go again.

“There’s one more thing,” he said after a while of kissing/you crying (it was just really wet and you didn’t know whether that was the kiss or the tears, but probably the latter).

“I don’t know how much I can handle, to be honest,” you laughed, while you tried to dry off your face with your sleeve.

He pressed one last kiss against your nose, before letting go of you, only to wrap his arms around you from behind when the fireworks began.

At first there were a couple of normal ones, big ones, that reflected in your eyes like stars.

And then there was one that had you gasp, laughing a couple of seconds later. Because there, in the sky, midst all of the random colorful fireworks, it said: “She said yes!”

“Glad you didn’t say no, or this would have been awkward,” he chuckled, as he kissed a spot behind your ear.

How could you have ever said no, when he truly was the love of your life? Age didn’t matter if you were as sure as you two were.. this was the right thing to do, without a doubt.

And while you were amazed by the fireworks, Jeongguk turned around to the camera and winked, giving a big thumbs up.

That would be a good way to end the video.

[wahbegan]

Okay Non-Spoiler Review

So I am gonna put this under a cut because it might get a bit long but yeah i’ll keep it spoiler-free and if you’ve been following my liveblogging of it i am gonna just re-iterate bits of old text posts during this so ye

So The Haunting of Hill House was fucking amazing. Let’s get this out of the way first though: If you come in looking for an adaptation of Shirley Jackson’s novel or the ‘63 film, you’re going to be disappointed. Or the ‘99 film, but if you want an adaptation of that, you’re a monster and may God have mercy on your soul.

Characters share names, very famous scenes are referenced, the opening line of the book is quoted almost verbatim and re-visited at the end with a twist like the film (although not the same twist but i shan’t spoil), and it involves psychic characters in a haunted house. That’s about it, though.

This story focuses on the Crain family, who were the spooky background story family in the OG, and completely changes their mythos as well. So the characters are all related, they live there as kids and don’t actually go back as adults until just about the end, and it’s dealing with their grief and trauma and dysfunction that drives them, not any kind of experiment in the supernatural.

No, what this show has much more in common with is Oculus. I know I’ve said this repeatedly but I can’t stress it enough. The Haunting of Hill House literally has more in common with Oculus than it does with the novel it takes inspiration from. Similar cinematography, similar style ghosts, same flipping between past and present, similar eldritch abomination disguised as inanimate thing villain fucking with perceptions of time and reality...The Haunting of Hill House really is more a re-imagining of Oculus than a re-imagining of The Haunting of Hill House.

Now that’s all just to address people’s expectations, though. Once again, if I had expected a re-imagining of Oculus, I wouldn’t have said no, because Oculus was the big dog’s biscuit. For those not in the know, it’s about a brother and sister whose parents went crazy when they were kids, their dad killed their mom, and then the little brother had to kill the dad in self-defense. He’s spent years in a mental hospital and chalked everything up to mental illness and an evil father, while his older sister is convinced the mirror they had just purchased was evil and drove their parents to do what they did. Zombie ghosts with glowing white eyes and mind-fuckery ensue. If you’re reading this after starting or even finishing THOHH, you may perhaps notice that sounds awfully familiar. 

Oculus was actually an expansion of/improvement on a short film Mike Flanagan made, which you can find on youtube. I’d argue THOHH is an analogous expansion of/improvement on Oculus.

The thing with Oculus is it had problems. Because of the power of the mirror, basically from the moment they enter their old house until the end of the movie, the thing’s illusions are so strong that there is no way of knowing what’s really happening. Audiences complained that it’s hard to get invested in a plot when you’re not sure how much of the plot is actually happening or when it’s happening, in the past or present. Flashbacks and the present narrative blended together in very artistic and jarring ways, but some people found it too jarring, hard to keep track of, nonsensical. Additionally, things were a bit rushed, and there wasn’t enough room for Flanagan to really let some of his more complex concepts for the plot and the scares breathe. 

Thankfully, in THOHH, Flanagan seems to have really actually taken those critiques to heart. There are characters largely unaffected by what’s going on, and the sequence of events never truly gets cluster-fucked. It’s a much more coherent narrative. In Oculus, a big complaint was things were too muddled to tell if the rug was actually being pulled out from under you and where the rug was to begin with and whether there was a rug in the first place. There is no fucking question in Hill House. 

Additionally, the 10-episode set-up means that he can go absolutely wild with everything he wants to do, and it fucking shows.

In Oculus, one of the most disturbing scares was a brief flicker on the TV. A split instant that showed the adult sister, mouth open and dripping blood, dead and vacant stare in her eyes, for less than a second. On the TV the younger brother was watching as a child in the past. It was truly unnerving. Something similar happens when they pass the cameras at one point that they’re using to record the mirror, just showing creepy pictures of her face. But those are the only two really good easter egg background scares that could fit in that movie. There was much more right up in your face.

Not so in Hill House. Hidden ghosts and unsettling details are EVERYWHERE. Not even just the now-famous easter egg ghosts. There are also obvious ghosts in the background that seem like jump scares waiting to happen....that don’t. There are small details that change, people walking past in the background of a hallway silently, statues that turn their heads to face a character without anyone noticing it in-show. The tension is masterfully built. There are scenes that you don’t even fucking realize are scary until you see something later that completely re-contextualizes it.

It also expands on the driving concept behind Oculus, family trauma and the repeating cycle of mental illness, which wasn’t as well explored there as Flanagan clearly wanted to. But here? In all its 10 episode glory, with each child’s trauma and resulting psychological issues getting full spotlight for an hour? 

It hits you hard. Flanagan’s concepts are fully realized. You get to intimately see what their childhoods have done to these characters, how history repeats itself (sometimes literally), how the ghosts-if you’ll pardon the pun-of the past drag the living of the present down. Not only that, he expands the themes he worked with in Oculus to include some downright Pet Sematary-style shit about loss, grief, and what meaning can be gleaned from death. It’s oppressively heavy, and the scares and the sadness interweave in beautiful ways. The end of one episode, which sees a maimed, anguished, silently screaming ghost standing by her own corpse, completely invisible to the assembled mourners, is both an absolutely haunting visual and an existential punch to the gut. A lot of the show is like that.

Of course this wouldn’t work if you weren’t invested in the people, but they managed to hit another home run on the characterization front. Every single character of any importance in this show is sympathetic to some degree, and even if you don’t like them, you understand why they are the way that they are. The actors are mainly relative unknowns, but i’ll be god damned if they don’t breathe life into these people. There’s also Carla Gugino who....you know. Is Carla fucking Gugino.

You can tell love and care has been put into this show. Small details almost always become important, I’m sure if I went back through with a fine-toothed comb for a second viewing, I would find a downright Edgar Wright level of foreshadowing in the earlier episodes. 

There were some questions I think I still have, maybe they’d be cleared up with a second viewing, and I do want to watch this show again. I had some issues with the ending which I won’t get into here, and the show absolutely isn’t above a jump scare or six. They’re never cheap though, either coming at the end of a truly tense scene or so insanely unconventional and out-of-left-field (Anyone who’s seen Episode 8 knows what i’m talking about) that it’s noteworthy in and of itself.

Overall, it plays out like a very intense and emotionally effective family drama about trauma, grief, sickness, death, dysfunction, and love with heavy horror elements. You’ll go half an episode without any horror sometimes, making it all the more jarring when it does rear its zombified, dead-white eyed head again. This isn’t to say that the tone isn’t cohesive, like i said before, it absolutely makes it mesh together. 

And yes, I did say love up there. I want to pause for a moment to tell you that all hope is not lost in this show. There are genuine moments of humor, heartwarming, and love. Yes, most of them are at best bittersweet and at worst setting you up for a cold, black sucker-punch to the heart, but it’s not all darkness and fear and death. This show has heart.

I honestly can’t say enough good things about The Haunting of Hill House. The family dynamic was realistic as hell, the characters were complex, the scares and tension were masterfully executed, the themes were intelligent, the cinematography beautiful, I cannot recommend this show enough to anyone with even a passing interest in horror.

[theaterwit]

Skittles Commercial The Broadway Musical The Essay

So, this is how I spent my Sunday...

I was up at four am and at the airport by 5:15am.  But WHY?

I had a mission. I was off to meet my friend Tim in NYC.  We were about to see

Yes.  Will Eno wrote a thirty minute Broadway musical that will open and close today. One performance only. 

I’ve known Will for about twelve years and since we just finished working on The Realistic Joneses, it was pretty much a must-see. On the way in, I saw this flyer on the train.

Obviously, I called. “Will my life be transformed by 1:30 PM today?“

Keano:”Very transformed. Your spirit is strong and ready. Believe in yourself”

At 1pm, Tim and I arrive at Town Hall. It's packed.  The line to pick up tickets stretches around the corner. A woman is selling T-shirts outside the theater for $10.  (Oddly, the T-shirts *inside* the theater are $20.) The mood in the room is ... buoyant. I do not know if this is a love of Skittles, an excitement about the difficult-to-get-tickets-for event or a carefully group curated ironic positioning in relation to the event.

I'm pretty amused already, and the gentleman to my left is bouncing with enthusiasm. He's brought his 10 year old daughter. It's the first time he's been at Town Hall since performing as a child dancer in a ballet show 20 years ago. I tell him that Skittles Commercial The Broadway Musical is virtually guaranteed to be the same experience so it's great he gets to share his youth with her. It's her first live musical. I don't know what 10 year old me would have thought was going on. I ask her and she says "I like Skittles, so..." and shrugs.

I look through the program and discover to my delight that the director of this epic is none other than Sarah Benson, the artistic director of Soho Rep, a downtown theatre I have a little bit of a crush on (the theater, not the AD). Someone at DDB Needham is a subversive genius. We may never know who thought this up, but if I ever find out, they'll be the first person I buy a drink for at Soho House.  The second person (if not the same person) is Nathaniel Lawler, the copywriter/lyricist co-credited with Will on the book.

The lights dim with a musical fanfare and we're off.

And the next 30 minutes are freaking hilarious while combining a deep questioning about advertising, the communual ethics of the event itself, and a look at the performative dynamics between the show and the live audience in this hall.

And it's about mortality: death, and what we leave behind.  And Skittles. In three very short acts.

So, what actually happens in Skittles Commercial The Broadway Musical?  It's honestly difficult to describe but here's the plot as detailed as I can recall, and no doubt horribly reductive:

Part I

Several NYC residents are at a bodega before the Super Bowl. One of them is a regular, the others are there to buy contact lens solution or a snack.  No one is there to buy Skittles. The first two minutes are straight up Will Eno. The characters are in a mild and gentle existential crisis. There is a big game, but they are ambivalent toward it. There is no contact lens solution. No one seems likely to leave the store. There is no mention of Skittles, although there are several references to the futility of existence.

Then Michael C. Hall enters in an absolutely genius and ridiculous cat costume. He exudes weary despair and wanders around the store, occasionally slipping into his cat persona and batting at objects on the shelves and cat toys. Everyone on stage is excited and awkward about this celebrity appearance in the bodega.

Michael C. Hall explains that he is doing a Super Bowl commercial. No, not for TV. For the stage. He's feeling like this might be a big mistake and sings a ballad about this ambiguity ("This Might Have been a Bad Idea"). Will he still be respected for participating in such a stunt? Is this the ultimate sell-out? Or—after he tastes a Skittle—a wholehearted endorsement of a product he actually loves and will he become famous for the show we are watching at the moment. Or maybe he has to sing that because we're still in a commercial.

The bodega owner yells "NO!!" and tries to fend off something in the house with a broom. Musical flourish and he returns to the action.

At this point, someone in the audience stands up and interrupts the show to ask a question. (“Actually, a two part statement and a follow up question.”) She's trying to understand what's going on.  Another member interrupts to answer her.  A third person in the balcony complains he can't see anyone who's talking at the moment. A fourth man says this is all very well, but shouldn't we be using this time together in the spirit of the Town Hall and discuss something important, like a national high speed rail system? Multiple audience members get involved. Michael C. Hall gets increasingly impatient with all the interruptions. He's one angry kitty. He says he knew this was a terrible idea and says the show is over.  He walks off. The curtains close. House lights up.  

The interrupting audience members get up and leave, disgruntled, including several who hadn't spoken.  About a minute of silence follows. No one in the audience is talking. I am chortling (quietly).

Part II

House lights dim again, curtains open and the bodega has been replaced with an exterior of the Town Hall, complete with table selling the $10 T-Shirts.  Michael C. Hall (to be clear, I keep repeating his full name because the characters always say it in full) is leaving the theater.  The heckling "audience" from the first part descend on him (including the $10 T-shirt vendor), complaining that he abandoned the show and they didn't get the experience they had hoped for. McH argues that it is only a commercial and they didn't miss anything important. In a Pirandello-esque twist, he reminds them that they are all characters in the commercial anyway so it's all still happening. One of the women argues that she couldn't say anything horrible about Skittles ("they make you sad") because Skittles wouldn't write anything like that for a commercial.  Michael C. Hall replies "Wierdly enough, they did."  

The cast sings "Advertising Ruins Everything".  In despair and fury, they turn on Michael C. Hall and the bodega for betraying them.  They pull the exterior drop aside and rush the bodega owner and his broom, tearing apart the set in a Baccanalian frenzy.

Obviously, they kill Michael C. Hall in a flurry of lights and smoke, which brings us to...

Part III

As the smoke clears, Michael C. Hall reappears over his body, wrapped in white plastic chains in a lovely Jacob Marley/Christmas Carol moment. He's now in the afterlife, where he has a brief conversation with Winston Churchill and an even briefer conversation with Amelia Erhardt. Michael C. Hall is now doomed to walk eternity regretting his life choices. He and the chorus sing "This Definitely Was a Bad Idea".  

They eat Skittles.

End of play. The audience cheers.

While I can't recreate the wit of the thing, I'm hoping this helps everyone get a sense of the essential weirdness and theatricality of the experience. Mars was filming an archival copy, but I honestly hope that they don't release it. Benson, Eno and Hall made an inspired little piece of NYC theater mythology that probably can't be recreated but which I will enjoy recounting for years. It was a delight. Well worth 1400 miles of travel in a single day to see. Plus I didn't have to pretend to care about the Super Bowl, so the day was a win-win for me.

After the audience left, I got a farewell stage shot. Everyone off to Sardi’s for a celebration.

And If you've seen The Realistic Joneses (and if not, why not?), I will leave you with one final crossover thought:

"I like Skittles.  Skittle."

[operationrainfall]

Title Dragon Marked for Death Developer INTI CREATES CO., LTD. Publisher INTI CREATES CO., LTD. Release Date January 31st, 2019 Genre Action RPG Platform Switch Age Rating T for Teen Official Website

Editor’s Note: For simplicity, the italicized sections represent Marisa’s impressions, while the regular ones represent Steve’s.

I recently spent some time with the latest offering from Inti Creates, Dragon Marked for Death. I went into this one expecting your standard Action RPG with some different classes and some ho hum missions. What we got was way beyond what I expected. You will hear from both myself and my partner in crime for this review, Marisa. We’ll answer the most important question of all, was this game fun?

In this game you take control of a member of the Dragonblood Clan. This was a group of humans that were caught up in the war between the Celestials and the Astral Dragons. They were saved by the blood of a dying dragon named Atruum. Why he decided to give them his blood is not known, but anyone born into the clan from this day forward would bear the Dragon Scar on their body and worship Atruum. In present day, your clan has sworn revenge on the Medius Empire for destroying your home, but first you will have to prove your place in this world as the clan isn’t seen in the best light.

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  When purchasing the game, you have a couple of different options. You can take the fighter pack which contains the Empress and Warrior, or play more strategically with the Shinobi and Witch. These packs cost $14.99 each and you can purchase both if you want to have access to all four different classes. I played with the Warrior mostly, but I did check out the Empress as well. They are very similar, but the Empress seems to be a bit faster than the Warrior. She also seems to do a little less damage, but that could’ve been because the weapon I had equipped wasn’t as good as his currently equipped axe.

In terms of raw gameplay, the game does a decent job in tailoring a smooth and quick experience. Combat moves typically don’t have huge amounts of delay and it’s simple enough to access the menu and use equipped items. Characters themselves are also easy enough to understand that with practice, using their abilities is basically second-nature. Even the Witch, which relies on incantations based on repeated button inputs, is not complicated to play as. Speaking of characters, there are four different characters, two designated as Frontline attackers and two as Advanced attackers. Each has a specific playstyle, ranging from brute force to utility. This means that a party of four has tailored roles to support the group.

After the tutorial mission you will find yourself in town. Here you can visit shops, take items out of your truck and take on quests. The shops in town will provide you with weapons, accessories and consumables that will be vital to your survival. You do need to watch out when purchasing equipment, as a certain level is required to use most of it. Once you setup all your gear, it’s time to take on a quest. The objectives of these are widely varied. They can be anything from clean out the monster dens to catching up with a floating balloon. While some of these are less fun than others, variety is the spice of life and this certainly works in the game’s favor.

Combat and exploration is perhaps the game’s best attribute. Quest areas typically have treasure chests to find, along with other secrets. As usual for Inti Creates games, enemies have specific reasons behind their attacks. Like the frog enemy may suddenly do a tongue attack at times, but will only do so if you are close enough for it to trigger. For bosses, they can either have a specific pattern for attacks or have a specific animation to tell what they are about to do. As such, fighting enemies and bosses is not typically a chore. Quests themselves also help to keep gameplay variety.

Quests are where the majority of EXP and gold are received from. They can range from merely going from point A to point B, to gathering a certain amount of items, and protecting civilians. For the most part, the requirements to complete a quest are lenient. The actual main concern is the time limit. For some quests, particularly if you are playing single-player, the time limit can be exceptionally tight. If you don’t rush for the goal, you might merely have a minute or so to spare. Combined with at times bulky enemies, this aspect of the game can be rather annoying.

Unfortunately, the game’s progression can require a bit of extra work. The EXP granted from defeating enemies is typically merely a fraction of the EXP gained in a quest. Even then, much of the time completing a quest typically won’t give a level up even if your level is that suggested for the quest. What makes the issue worse is that you can only keep accessories and weapons found if you have successfully completed the quest. If you are having a difficult time completing quests, either due to running out of lives or time, minimal progress will be made. Even if you can complete quests in one go, it feels like you have to do every quest available to even keep up with the level curve. It would be best if enemies gave better EXP as to not have players feel they have to grind slowly to level up or do every quest imaginable just to complete the game.

Graphically, this is one of the best looking sprite based titles I’ve seen in quite a while. This came as no surprise to me when I found that the character designer was Toru Nakayama, known for his work on the Megaman Zero franchise. Throw in graphics designer Hirokatsu Maeda, who worked on the Gunvolt series and Blaster Master Zero, and it’s no wonder Dragon Marked for Death looks amazing.

The character designs are richly detailed and you can customize your avatar with a few colors. Enemy models are equally impressive, especially some of the bosses. That first big ogre you fight is massive and he bites the head off some guy right off the bat. I think the most impressive thing are the actual levels themselves. Some span many areas, from forest to caves, and onward to castle interiors. They are all masterfully crafted and look amazing. It really makes you want to explore each level thoroughly, not to loot items, but to take in all the amazing level design.

The soundtrack here is top notch. Most of the tracks are a mix of something you’d find in a medieval fantasy movie and a classic samurai film. The two styles mix together very well, and I found myself humming along often as I laid waste to all of the foes before me. The sound effects are pretty much what you would expect for a title like this, and you can customize the voice of your created avatar. While a few more voice choices would’ve been welcome, there is enough here to get the job done.

Combat here is your typical side scrolling hack ‘n slash. You will run around slicing up all enemies in your path. You do have some dragon skills that will allow you to do things like guard attacks, gives you some buffs or restore a bit of HP. You can also hold down the attack button to charge up for larger attacks. These usually cover more ground and do lots of damage. The odds are very much stacked against you most of the time. This is where the items you brought with you really save your bacon. The enemies will also drop some items that may fix your status aliments, give buffs or maybe even restore a bit of HP. This is all about luck and ironically, your luck stat plays into how often you get drops.

Now, this game is meant to be played with other players. Indeed, the game is best played with other people as it makes the time limit and bulky enemies much less of an issue. Having played with another online, it’s safe to say that the game runs smoothly as ever with very few issues. There was rarely a hint of lag while playing, not to mention the game’s balance became much more appropriate. That said, there were times where the other player would just disappear from the screen but was still registered on the minimap. This hasn’t affected the gameplay at all, but it was a notable visual issue hinting at an improper connection. The main issue in the end however is not so much the multiplayer itself, but rather that the game is specifically balanced around multiplayer. This is why single player is not as balanced. What could’ve been done is that if played in single player, the game merely auto-adjusts values to level the playing field.

The problem I found with the fighter classes is they simply take too much damage. The weapons have little range, so you have to be up close and personal with monsters to take them out. You do way more damage than the ranged fighters, but item management and effective dodging are very much key to staying alive. Though in general, this game is not really all that much fun in single player because of the difficulty. I highly recommended you play this one with friends via local multiplayer or the internet. Having even just one more party member that is ranged class makes a huge difference. You basically cancel out each others weaknesses and can fight as one well-oiled machine. Marisa and I played this quite a bit online and there was zero lag, and we had no issues finding each other to party up. Honestly, this is one of the smoothest online experiences I’ve had.

While I think Dragon Marked for Death isn’t balanced very well for a single player game, I think the online play more than makes up for that. There is a ton of quest variety, the levels have tons of depth and the game is just simply a blast to play with a friend. I’m not even a big fan of multiplayer games like this, and if I had more time I’d still be playing right now. I think the amount of quests here and replay value more than justify the inexpensive entry price, and hack and slash fans should grab a friend and be all over this one.

[easyreview cat1title=”Overall” cat1detail=”” cat1rating=”4.0″]

Game provided by the publisher for review purposes.

REVIEW: Dragon Marked for Death Title Dragon Marked for Death