#comic proper resumes tomorrow!

[yridenergyridenergy]

Phalaris Vol.II - Kanazawa-shi Culture Hall [2023/05/18] live report

SETLIST

Hibiki

Schadenfreude

Mouai ni Shosu

Devote My Life

Utsutsu, Bouga o Kurau

Ningen wo Kaburu

13

Uroko

Eddie

GRIEF

Beautiful Dirt

Otogi

The Perfume of Sins

ENCORE

Dozing Green (acoustic)

un deux

T.D.F.F.

Sustain the Untruth

Revelation of mankind

Holy hell, another excellent show!

The first thing that hit me at Kanazawa-shi Culture Hall was that I wasn't passed the memo for shimote? There were so many young women wearing pretty little dresses. They also happened to not move that much, barely headbang during the show. I wonder if they had photoshoots in Kanazawa's old village neighbourhood and wanted to remain prim and proper for Kaoru and Toshiya. Anyway, because of the chairs' disposition and the fact that the fan in front of me decided to occupy the aisle on her right (technically allowed), I had an unobstructed view of all of the members. Tomorrow, on the shinkansen back to Tokyo, or on the long flight back home in the next few days, I'll try to commit to paper my memory of every member's look and outfits!

Shinya had his traditional white top with black pants, Die had his black and white-lined tunic tucked into a belt with the Roman soldier kind of leather leggings and his usual bold mascara, Toshiya wore the black lace veil version of his outfit, Kaoru came in with the dual-patterned suit (the top is black & white while the pants are black and leopard yellow/orange) and finally, Kyo adorned his the dark version of his outfit, with the G.I.S.M. T-shirt.

Before I cut the post for a shorter version, the rest appearing after the break below, I HAVE to mention the dance that Toshiya does during Eddie and that we all seem to be forgetting! It's the segment where essentially just Shinya is playing, the second time "Shimatsugaki wa kaki oeta ka? Mirai o sute doko e daibu?" is sung, in a more comical voice. Toshiya gets low, bending his knees, and he starts doing what I can only describe as a "happy dance", throwing his arms high and low, doing exaggerated steps in a circle while this is played. The only gif I could find to illustrate that is this, but crouched:

Also, for Eddie, almost nobody was singing. At some point, Kyo got pissed and threw his mic impulsively in the air backward, almost landing on Shinya's drums. For the long seconds of vocal silence that followed with Kyo not so much glaring as intimidatingly and expectantly staring at the centre of the crowd, it sounded like I was the only one shouting the whole near-end lyrics? People please, learn Eddie! It's not my favourite song on the album and I don't know the lyrics by heart, but I can make vaguely similar sounds that satisfy Kyo! He eventually picked up his mic again to resume singing from "Kusodomo ga" (Shitholes) to finish the song in frustration.

GRIEF followed and it looked like Kyo was still pissed and sang with more fury. In fact, I'd say that the Eddie performance affected the encore all the way until maybe halfway into un deux, at which point Kyo demanded us to sing with him, higher and more, which fans did join in mass this time.

Going back to the start, Hibiki and Schadenfreude seemed like they had even more passion by the band than before. It sounded like nobody shouted "Ikedomo jigoku ka" with me though? By the way, Hibiki's backdrop is very beautiful, showcasing a bunch of flower coloured lines in water, a bit like if ink is dropped in that liquid and that it eventually hangs in suspension.

Mouai ni Shosu I'm sure is where Kyo puts his arms wide up to his side and dances a bit with his feet, slowly, while staring at us very intently like he controls us.

Throughout the show, it seemed to me like Kaoru came out from his spot way more. There was something he saw in us because he kept teasing us with his head bending to the side, he came up to place a foot on the ledge more often and he sped up to the left arm of the stage almost as soon as the occasion presented. Usually, Toshiya is the one visiting us at the front all the time and Kaoru stays back. Kind of the same thing with Die actually. I noticed yesterday that Die is in his own little world on the right side of the stage, just disappearing off-stage during instrument switches or breaks, whipping his hair back at all odd times, etc. Anyway, it was great to see Kaoru more out there/here!

In Devote My Life, Kyo trotted toward the right arm of the stage right away, jumping over the equipment and then swaying his head there as he asked for the crowd to chant. He came back to the centre and I think Toshiya did the same either in that song or another, but on his way back to the main stage, Toshiya's jump involved really bending his knees along with reclining his bass, which made the jump total rockstar-style for a mere second!

Kyo ran to the left arm of the stage near the end of Utsutsu, Bouga o Kurau, and he did the first: "eranananananaze nanda" (he seems to add and roll an r at the start rather than just go with nana for the whole series), followed by a pause and: "Sore!" right before we're supposed to chant the second series ourselves, but he was already making his way back to the centre of the stage and I'm not sure how well he heard anyone in the crowd. In any case, he clearly was not satisfied this time, but he has reacted worse. Then he extends his hand and belts out those "Ooooooh in mind" lines to conclude the song epically as always!

In Ningen wo Kaburu, I heard a bit more clearly this time that Kyo changed the lyrics. Most of the time, he asks us to chant: "Dare no tame ni ikiru darou?" but he changes it occasionally to shout off-melody about doing it for his own sake, I believe? It was 'ore no', right?

For 13, again that one seemed a few inches more intense than usual, with the face being ripped forcefully off when singing emotionslly about throwing it all away. Man, I can't shake the feeling that we're supposed to be singing Die's backup vocals of: "in the dark, in the heart of, here's everything, Never die." It just doesn't seem right that this moment has no engagement from the crowd. Not to mention that most fans do not move during this song even if it's so powerful and rock- y and that the band goes hard on stage.

I can't remember in which song, but Kyo was so intense in his steps that he bumped backward into his mic stand, which wobbled but thankfully did not fall on Shinya's drums. Kyo glanced a bit worriedly at it but quickly went back to the performance like a professional.

Also, somewhere in the second half of the main setlist, in one of the breaks, Toshiya poured water from his plastic bottle on himself, mainly on his head but I think also on his chest, his back turned to us. He finished by spitting some water upward like a fountain before turning to face us.

Otogi starts in silence with Kyo hitting his forehead, head bent, with his microphone, which he holds with both hands. You can hear heavy breathing, maybe hints of sniffs even. The screen fills up with bright, bright red from the bottom, Kaoru's distortion fills the air and Shinya hints of beats flutter after a while. The song then turns turns really heavy. Toshiya makes various gestures, concealing his eyes with both hands at one point, but he starts the song by holding his hand and his bass high, becoming a proud silhouette against the vivid red.

Then, the spinal mic stand comes forth and Kyo does eery little noises, only to blast out: "NOSE, EYES, EARS" out of nowhere, it's always unexpected! There was so much smoke after "The sound of the brain dying" throughout the song that Kyo was hidden from sight eventually.

The song ended and it seemed like even Kyo took a moment to grasp that it was the end of the main setlist. In fact, the entire band didn't seem ultra aware. It was just that kind of show, so awesome!

The band came back for the encore, Shinya as usual clothed in black with the tour T-shirt, Die with a lose black shirt, his very short leather shorts and the aforementioned tights, Toshiya changed his top for the classy sleeveless dress shirt and Kaoru finally took off his patterned jacket and came back with the leopard pants and his black dress shirt. I don't know how he keeps his layered outfits for the entire main setlist all the time while every other member besides Shinya slowly divests themselves as the heat becomes overbearing! But anyway, what shocked us the most was Kyo returning to the stage with HEAVY black makeup on the lips, as well as on his eyelids now! With the tone of Dozing Green in acoustic and the beginning of un deux, combined with the poor reception he got during Eddie, Kyo looked downright depressed but nevertheless intimidating. With his somewhat spiky blond hair, he reminded me of his Kisou look a bit.

After un deux successfully lightened the mood with reconciliation, T.D.F.F. got everybody totally crazy. We were jumping and headbanging, Toshiya went to the left arm of the stage again for his solo, and Kaoru took notice of shimote's dedication to the song so he walked up front and mouthed a "hey" or whatever with us. He peered really intensely, seriously at all places in the shimote section, it was almost unnerving! Kyo tends to stare at no particular spot, basically a bit above the crowd, while Toshiya and Die smile and stare slightly but then they focus on playing. Kaoru was taking his sweet time scanning the entire crowd on his side of the venue yo. He'd nod from time to time when our reaction wad energetic enough.

It must have been in the encore, because I'm confident that Kaoru was wearing only his black dress shirt, Kyo sprinted back to what seemed to be his crate in the centre, so Kaoru peered at that and prepared to head back to shimote but Kyo was quicker and he placed his hand on Kaoru's left shoulder, holding him there as he passed and made his own way to shimote instead, telling Kaoru that it was fine to stay there for now. It's crazy how gaga we become for those small interactions just because they come off as such an antisocial or asocial band, but it works!!!

At one point, I'd say either during Beautiful Dirt or in the encore with Sustain the Untruth, Kyo stared at someone behind the VIP rows and mocked the weakness of their raised hand. When perhaps the fan in question raised their second arm, he imitated that and the way he did it, it clearly made a fool of the lack of energy dispensed. Again, he gestured for the neck to be ruined instead and began dancing on his spot like in Sustain the Untruth.

The last song came and Kyo stood on his crate. He asked us repetitively if we could go, putting his hand over his face and sniffing like he wasn't sure or convinced, which prompted me to scream before he asked again and everybody in the crowd joined as well in the cheer. Kyo then went: "KAAAAAANAAAAZAAAWAAAAAA", followed by: "KAAAAAAAAAAANAAAAAAAAAAAzawa". He compelled us to keep it up for the last song a couple of times more, after which he screamed: "Then die!" roughly, adding "Last Song" quickly almost like an after-thought immediately after as the first notes of Revelation of mankind began.

What ensued was headbanging, some joint singing between the crowd and Kyo, and a beautiful final. By the end, he had almost none of the black makeup left on the lips, maybe only at the corners of his mouth, but none dripping on his chin due to sweat - maybe stuck on his mic or he swallowed it while singing? At the end, he just stood there exhausted and wiped the rest of it off, only the eyes still shadowed. Kyo clapped multiple times, nodding like we deserved those claps, until Shinya's finishing beats. Then he clapped some more, pointed at the young girl with the headphones in the crowd and doing the finger hook to her a couple of times, nodding and pointing twice at his temples, making it obvious he was refering to her. Then he turned his attention back to the whole crowd, stepped back a couple of inches, belted out: "KANAZAWA" micless, then: "Bye Bye" in the same fashion with a curt wave of his hand, and left.

Shinya threw his drumsticks from on top of Kyo's crate afterward and as he left the stage, he walked squarely far, more than a metre away from Kaoru as he passed. Kaoru had been collecting some picks from his micstand and he slightly smirked at Shinya on the latter's way out. The three remaining members on stage threw stuff mostly in the back. I guess they really want to make use of the stage's arms on the side to reach parts of the crowd that they couldn't have access to from a general-admission type of venue.

Toshiya left rather early tonight and didn't seem all that smiley, but he bowed respectfully and appreciatively before leaving.

I think there was a small interaction between Die and Kaoru as they crossed path to alternate the side of the stage that they were donating picks to.

And as you already know, Kaoru did the magic trick of throwing a pick, we look up and get blinded by the lights in the ceiling, look back down to see where it landed, and Kaoru's right there opening his palm with his mouth wide open in a smirk, expression falsely surprised, then he popped it out of his palm and next thing I know, I flex my left hand while people around me are looking everywhere at the ground for the pick and there it is, something solid apparently landed in my palm! Woooo!

What a wonderful way to end this streak of seven shows that I was able to see this tour! I hope everyone will have an amazing time for the following, concluding shows, as well as during the Petit Brabançon but even more so the sukekiyo tour this summer, you lucky fellows!

[afaimsarrowverse]

Arrowverse Update 2021:

I am doing one more of those before the new Seasons are rolling in, because we got major news about one project and some more bits about everything else, so… let’s start with the bad news and then continue with the rest:

 Green Arrow and the Canaries

 Is officially dead. It is currently unknown if and how we are going to get a resolution of the cliffhangar from the Backdoor-Pilot and its other open plot-threads. Yes, we were promised that all of this would get resolved somwhere else, if the show would not get picked up, however that was one year ago. Since then a lot has changed.

The main problem is that the project was just buried a couple of days ago, meaning that there is no chance for anything of this to be resolved in this TV-Season, which is already completly planned through for all the Arrowverse-Shows (and even half filmed already in some cases). The other problem is that a good portion of the people responsible for „Green Arrow and the Canaries“ is not a part of the current Arrwoverse anylonger. Yes, Marc Guggenheim could come back just to do a Crossover that resolves all that is still open, but why would The CW want its next Crossover Event to revolve around a never picked up show? There would have to be something else in that Crossover Event, provided one of those could even happen any time soon. As for doing just a singular episode the problem is where. The shows with ties to „Green Arrow and the Canaries“ might not be around any more or be in their final season by the time such an episode could be made, and all of the shows might again get shortened seasons, so the producers are going to have other priorties for their own shows in the next year.

So we might not get a resolution to „Green Arrow and the Canaries“ at all. On Televison that is. There is the alternate route though: A Comic Continuation.

As of now however it’s way to early to know anything for sure though. They are looking into it, but as I said, things are a lot more complicated right now, then they were a year ago.

Batwoman

 Season two is rolling around in a few days, therefor they released a new accurate synopsis and The CW has been and is still putting out a lot of promo material. You can watch most of it on Youtube.

A couple of days after I wrote my last one of these, it was reported that Christina Wolfe will be part of the main cast this season. In other news, we also were told that we will get yet another version of Victor Zsasz. The Arrowverse-Version will be played by Alex Morf.

Also David Ramsey will guest star as John Diggle and also direct an episode (but probably not the same one). And yes, this might be the Crossover Episode. However is has to be said that is has become awfully quite around that illusive „Batwoman“/“Superman&Lois“-Crossover. Given the news about David Ramsey being in all shows, it might have been replaced by a Diggle-Storyline that goes through all the shows including „Batwoman“. We will have to wait and see.

The Season opener will go into Kate Kane’s fate (without her being in it though) and Gotham will have to confront the False Face Society and new drug called Snakebite in the opening episodes. The tone of the new Season might be drastically different from before, there are hints for that, and I am not speaking about BLM instead of LGBT-issues. The words „goofy“ and „fun“ are kind of present, if you know what I mean, however this could just be promotion.

 As for the episodes:

 2.01 „Whatever happend to Kate Kane?“ (Directed by: Holly Dale, Written by: Caroline Dries, Airdate: January 17 2021)

 2.02 „Prior Criminal History“ (Written by: James Stoteraux & Chad Fiveash)

 2.03 „Bat Girl Magic“

 2.04 „Fair Skin, Blue Eyes“ (Directed by: Menhaj Huda, Written by: Ebony Gilbert)

 2.05 „Gore on Canvas“

Black Lightning

 Everyone is still very tighlipped about the final Season of „Black Lightning“. So I have nothing new, apart from titles (which are in line with the previous seasons and therefore not telling us anything, if we are honest):

 4.01 „The Book of Reconstruction: Chapter One“ (Airdate: February 8 2021)

 4.02 „The Book of Reconstruction: Chapter Two“

 4.03. „The Book of Reconstruction: Chapter Three“

 4.04 „The Book of Reconstrucion: Chapter Four“

 4.05 „The Book of Ruin: Chapter One“

 4.06.

 4.07 „Painkiller“-Backdoorpilot

The Flash

 So, yes, someone on the Production Team was tested posivite, and they had to shut down the production for a short period of time because of this, but it remained a pretty isolated case (or so it seems) and the production did resume. To make up for the lost time the Christmas Break was shortend, and they are back to filming already, so no need to worry, everthing is on schedule.

This season will see the return of John Diggle to Central City. David Ramsey will also direct an episode (but probably not the same one). We will also see the return of the Meta-Human Task Force, which will clash with Frost. This storyline will also involve Joe. Eric Wallace has hinted before that there will be a storyline involving the police and abuse of power with Joe in it, and I did assume it would be BLM-storyline, however this is „The Flash“, so this storyline might be what he talked about instead, and we might get a Meta-Human are being hunted and abused-Storyline as a substiute.

 As for the first couple of episodes:

 7.01 „All’s Wells that Ends Wells“ (Airdate: Feburary 23 2021)

 7.02. „The Speed of Thought“ (Airdate: March 2 2021)

 7.03 „Mother“ (Airdate: March 9 2021)

 7.04 „Central City Strong“( Airdate: March 16 2021)

 7.05 „Fear Me“ (Airdate: March 23 2021)

Superman & Lois

 The new Morgan Edge is in and it will be Adam Rayner, who will inherit the role from Adrian Pasdar. We also learned that Joselyn Picard will play the other Cushing-Lang-Daughter Sophie. Reporters we will get to meet on the show not only include Ron Troupe but also Chrissy Beppp played by Sofia Hasmik, while Leslie Larr played by Stacey Farber will be a cold former idealist, probably tied to Morgan Edge, and presumable an antagonist.

David Ramsey will guest star as John Diggle somewhen this season and will direct an episode as well. He will make his way through most of the shows (as Diggle) and might be the Crossover-Factor of this season. Even though the „Batwoman“/“Superman & Lois“-Crossover is not officially of the table, we haven’t heard anything about it in a while, so maybe this actually is it.

We got a proper look at the new suit and also the first real trailer, which is … unusal. More artsy then revealing, but is around one and a half months until the season starts, so there will be another trailer coming out soon.

 The first couple of episodes:

 1.01  Pilot (Directed by: Lee Toland Krieger, Written by: Greg Berlanti, Todd Helbing, Airdate: February 23 2021)

 1.02  „Heritage“ (Airdate: March 2 2021)

 1.03  „The Perks of Not Being a Wallflower“ (Airdate: March 9 2021)

 1.04. „Haywire“ (Directed by: James Bamford, Airdate: March 16 2021)

 1.05 „The Beacon“ (Airdate: March 23 2021)

Legends of Tomorrow

 Aliyah O’Brien will guest star as Kayla a fearsome deadly alien warrior in this season, who won’t be to happy about the Legends, because she is a pro, and they are …. well … the Legends. David Ramsey will also guest star this season, however he won’t be playing John Diggle, but another role instead. Who or what this other role will be remains a mystery. He could play Diggles ancenstor or descendant, if time travel is still an element in Season 6, or a shape shifting alien or an illusion, however they could also go full prosthetics and have him playing a character with no connection to Diggle at all.

David Ramsey will also direct an episode this season. Caity Lotz did already direct an episode, Episode 5, and given that she tweeted about the strain of directing and acting at the same time, we will see more of Sara in this episode than in last year‘s „Mortal Khanbat“. However still expect less Sara in Episode 4 and 5 than usual.

There was an early air-date floating around for „Legends“, which proofed to be a mix-up. Don‘t expect Season 6 (or any mid-season replacement for that matter) before the end of May, and even that would be early.

 As for the episodes:

 6.01 „ Ground Control to Sara Lance“ (Directed by: Kevin Mock, Written by: James Eagan & Mark Bruner)

 6.02 „Meat: The Legends“ (Directed by: Rachel Talalay, Written by: Matthew Maala & Morgan Faust)

 6.03 „The Ex-Factor“ (Directed by: David Geddes, Written by: Grainne Godfree  & Tyron Carter)

 6.04 „Bay of Squids“ (Directed by: Sudz Sutherland, Written by: Phil Klemmer)

 6.05 „The Satanist’s Apprentice“ (Directed by. Caity Lotz, Written by: Keto Shimizu, & Ray Utarnachitt)

 6.06 „Bishop’s Gambit“ (Directed by: Kevin Mock, Written by: James Eagan & Emily Cheever)

Supergirl

 Here we are again, with crumbs only. I still can’t tell you anything with value that happens this season. A couple of casting tapes leaked, one involving a prison break plot, however there is no telling if this isn’t just a single scene that leads to something totally different or the beginning of an actual sub-plot. We do know however that Young Alex and Young Kara will make their return this season.

We also know, that „Supergirl“ is about the only show on this list that does not have a finished Episode 1 as of now. They might have one or two finished episodes around Episode 5 or 6, but that’s it.

The reason we know this is that even though they are up to Episode 6 with filming, just like the other Vancouver-based shows, they did start a lot later, meaning they did not film whole episodes. The other reason we know that is that Melissa is just returning to the show this months. And there is no way she won’t be in Episode 1. She might sit out a couple of episodes that star Young Kara and Young Alex instead, but there is no way she won’t be in the first six episodes at all.

We will also get less Alex this year, or tob e more accurate less Chyler. She is having her directorial debute this season. Episode 6 is her episode, and this is the one with Young Alex und Young Kara in it. However present day Brainy und Nia are also in it, so it won’t be a total Flashback Episode. However, expect Chyler Light Episodes 5-6. Episode 7 will be directed by David Harewood. David Ramsey will also direct an episode this season and will guest star as John Diggle, however probably not in the same episode.

Also Odette Annable is back for the final season in some capacity. Wether as Sam or as Reign or both and for how much is unknown at this point.

And yes, „Supergirl“ is also the only show on this, where I can’t give you an episode list, because this is all we know.

Yes, it is the final season and they are extra-tight-lipped because of that, and also as I said they don’t really have finished episodes at this stage, but still it would be nice, if someone up there in Vancouver or someone from the Writer’s Room would give us anything. But it seems like they are holding back with any kind of promotion at least until Melissa starts filming if not longer.

[mary-is-writing]

I'm back and with an update!!

Hello hello! The Internet situation has been resolved! So now I've come back and I'm ready to get back into writeblr. Thanks to the people who have tagged me in stuff in this uncertain times of no internet I've gone thru, I'll be sure to do them during this week☺️

Now for the updates!! Cause I did a lot of stuff in these last two weeks:

- The Demon In My House comic will resume tomorrow!

After almost 2 months of hiatus, I'm ready to start publishing it again, a page a week. This next chapter, Chapter 5, is one with lots of worldbuilding I've been waiting to do!! So probably we'll finish the year with it, or maybe we'll even get to the start of Chapter 6 bwfore 2022.

- The Monsters Only We See is fully drafted and edited!!!

HELL YEAH BABEY I FINISHED IT 🎉🎉🎉

I'm super proud of myself and of the finished product, is exactly as I wanted it to be! It ended up being 56K+ words and around 143 pages long after the edits. Soon enough I'll be asking for beta readers!!

Idk if I'll ask for beta readers in English, tho. I've been thinking about translating it myself but I still feel it's better to leave a proper translator to do that, even if it costs money. It's an inversion, but I'm willing to do it. I'm also thinking of using something like BetaBooks (was that the name of the site??) to see if it makes finding sensibility readers in Spanish easier.

Oh, and I've been starting to think about covers too!! I have a very VERY vague idea of what I want so in the future I'll comission somebody to do it. On Fiverr there are very good cover artists at very good prices, I just need to save money for it!!

- About Where Camellias Blossom...

The plan is still to use it as my wip for this year's Nanowrimo, but I've already started editing what I have so far. I know I know, I'm not supposed to do that, but hear me out.

I made a change in the narrator, so Im rewriting parts of it that need to so the new narrator can take its place. I wonder if it doesn't make the reading confusing or annoying? Well I guess it's fine if it's confusing, WCB is a mystery after all 🧐 but I don't wanna annoy people with the weird narrator 😅

- I also started drafting a new wip!!

Oh. My gosh.

You have NO IDEA how many problems THIS ONE (1) WIP HAS GIVEN ME.

And this isn't new: it has given me problems for literal YEARS. So I decided "y'know what? Fuck it let's just DO IT" and that's basically what I'm doing now. I don't think I'm ready to introduce it yet, so I'll be writing it in the sides while saving WCB for November.

For now, y'all shall know this wip as That One (bastard) Wip or TOW

That's it for the update!! Thank you so much for staying around in this weeks of mini hiatus I had!! I'll work to get more writing content out, hopefully soon.

See ya!

[miyuki-scourgeofthefirenation]

Bop to the Top

Oh boy what have I done? I wrote fanfic, that’s what I done. Basically, I was just chilling, minding my business, when I came across this YouTube video:

I then had an idea for a fanfic that would not let me go until I wrote it. So I wrote it. Please be nice, this is my first time writing fanfic ever. It also became longer than I anticipated so here it is in all its unedited glory. Enjoy! Story begins under the cut, because yikes, why is this over 2000 words?!?

(Set roughly five years after the end of the war. Zuko brought in a special team to help with Azula and her situation, because Zuko is a sweet boy who still loves his sister and wants her to be okay. The comics? I don’t know her.)

Sokka was spending a perfectly pleasant afternoon strolling around the gardens at the palace when he was unexpectedly tackled by someone sneaking up on him. Actually, make that two someones sneaking up on him.

“Ooof,” he grunts as his body makes contact with the ground. Any hope he might have had for regaining his breath is dashed when the two someones who tackled him promptly fall right on top of him as well.

“Sokka!” a giddy voice shouts, followed by peals of laughter. Sokka opens his eyes to find himself face to face with a chirping lemur. The pressure on his back disappears as his two attackers stand up.

“Sorry, sorry!” another voice rings out, reaching down to help Sokka to his feet. “We were just so excited to surprise you!” Sokka turns around to see his sister Katara, and Aang standing there.

“Guess we got a little carried away!” Aang adds with a sheepish tone in his voice that somehow doesn’t match up with the light in his eyes or wide grin on his face. Sokka doesn’t say anything, just reaches out to scoop Katara and Aang into a hug as Momo scurries up to perch on his shoulder.

“I had no idea you were coming for a visit,” Sokka says, releasing the others from the hug after a few moments.

“It was a last minute decision,” Katara explains. “We were charting our course to the next destination on our itinerary, and realized that it wasn’t that far out of our way to stop by here en route. Thought it would be nice to come see you and Zuko for a day or two.”

“And I thought ‘What would be more fun than making this visit?’ Making this a ‘Surprise visit!’” Aang crowed happily. “Hope that’s okay,” he said then, a bit more tentatively, as if it was just occurring to him that maybe advance warning of their arrival would have been a good thing.

“Of course it is!” Sokka beams, “You know I’m always excited to get to see you two!” A slightly angry chirp comes from the direction of his shoulder. “And you too Momo. I couldn’t forget about my favorite flying lemur.”

It is at this moment that two palace guards come running up to the group out of breath. “Master Sokka,” one pants, “Your sister and the Avatar have arrived unexpectedly and wish to see you immediately.” 

Sokka exchanges a brief look with Aang and Katara at this obvious statement, but decides not to comment on it out loud.

“We apologize for not leading them here for a proper greeting,” the other guard says, looking somewhat miffed as well as quite sweaty. “But…” He trails off looking at the two visitors, neatly conveying the hesitance of the guards to attempt to stop the waterbending master and Avatar from going anywhere they might want.

“That’s quite alright,” Sokka states, addressing the red-faced guards. “If you could please see to it that appropriate arrangements are made for my sister and Aang to stay here for the next few days. Thank you.” With that the two guards make their bows to the group and depart.

Katara and Aang loop their arms through Sokka’s as they begin to walk towards the far end of the garden. “So,” Katara begins, “how have you been? How’s that Fire Lord fiancé of yours?”

Sokka grins at this. “I’m good, he’s good. Been keeping busy with Ambassador duties, and Fire Lord duties for him. There have been a couple of small uprising plans discovered recently, but nothing like the turmoil of the early days…” he said trailing off. He still didn’t like to remember those difficult months after Zuko assumed the throne, which featured a steady influx of plots to remove him from power and resume the war. Based on the looks on Katara and Aang’s faces, they didn’t like this reminder either. The three quickly shook themselves out of their momentary gloom, focusing back on the present. “I know he’ll want to see you as well, he’ll be so thrilled you’re here!”

“Where is he?” Aang questions.

“He’s spending some time with Azula,” Sokka explains. “She’s been doing really well recently,” he adds after seeing the dubious expressions on their faces. “Ever since we got those new healers in and the new chambers in the hospital wing set up specially for her she’s been showing a lot of improvement. Way fewer rants about taking back her rightful place as Fire Lord!” Katara and Aang still don’t look convinced, and he supposes he can’t blame them for that. If he didn’t live here and see the daily workings of the situation he probably wouldn’t believe it either. “It’s just about time for Zuko to be finishing up with his visit to her,” Sokka says somewhat hastily, eager to move past this particular subject. “I’ll go over and get him, let him know you’re here. Then we can all have dinner together, properly catch up.”

“Great!” Aang exclaims. “Me and Katara should go see about getting Appa settled in, he can be very picky about how he wants things you know!” Katara gave a slight roll of her eyes as Aang bounded off with Momo flying behind him. 

“We’ll see you at dinner!” she calls with a wave as she follows her boyfriend. Sokka smiles at their retreating backs. He’s so happy that they’re here, and he knows Zuko will be as well. With that thought in mind he heads off for the hospital wing of the palace.

As he rounds the corner leading to Azula’s chambers he hears something extremely unexpected. Typical noises that can be found in the hallway are soft talking, loud screams about Azula finally breaking free and reclaiming her place, tears, or silence. This is none of those things. This seems to be… music? Sokka is confused, and quietly pushes open the door to the room. He learned the hard way that making his presence known immediately was not necessarily a smart idea. Who knew a hairbrush could be such a powerful projectile weapon? 

Sokka instantly freezes at the sight that meets his eyes. Zuko and Azula are in the center of the room and they seem to be doing some sort of… choreographed dance routine? There is an entirely unnecessary amount of jazz hands and shimmying that seems to be happening and Sokka is absolutely thrilled. He breaks out into an unbelieving and slightly wicked smile. This is good, this is just the sort of low level embarrassing incident he can use to tease Zuko for ages. The two dancing firebenders haven’t yet noticed Sokka’s presence, they’re too focused on the dance. The song continues to play in the background, something about bopping and glory. Sokka isn’t paying close attention to the words of the song, the sight in front of him is far more entertaining and deserves his full attention. The song comes to an end, and Zuko and Azula make their grand finale on a ladder (where did they get a ladder from? Sokka muses briefly). It is only then that Sokka makes his presence known, by beginning to clap. He knew that they would instantly stop dancing if they were aware of him earlier, and he was not about to sacrifice seeing this for anything. The two whirl around at the sound of his clapping, as well as the muffled laughter he’s been holding in this entire time and is starting to lose control of.

Zuko flushes red. “How long have you been standing there?” he asks, a slightly panicked look in his eyes. He knows his fiancé, and he knows full well the amount of teasing he can expect to get from this sort of situation. At this point he can only hope for the damage to be minimal, and that Sokka didn’t see too much of the routine. He knows he’s lost when he sees the evil gleam in Sokka’s eyes.

“Oh,” Sokka laughs, “I’m pretty sure I caught most of that, and let me say I am very happy I did. When can we expect to see performances of it in the theaters around town? Personally, I think all Fire Nation citizens should have a chance to witness that. It would probably be very good for morale.” He crosses his arms and grins at the siblings, who have since come down off of the ladder. Surprisingly Azula hasn’t said anything yet, and has kept her face aimed downwards towards the floor. Both Sokka and Zuko dart their gaze to her, somewhat nervously gauging her reaction.

She looks up abruptly, her gaze moving back and forth between the two. A small smile spread across her lips. “What do you think Zuzu? A couple more months of practice before our grand debut?” Zuko looks shocked for a minute before getting his expression back under control. She turns to Sokka. “You know,” she drawls to him, “I could be ready to perform for the masses tomorrow, but you know Zuzu, he’s not as fast a learner as I am. He needs more time to practice, and I refuse to perform if the routine is not perfected! But, alas, it is now time for dinner, and so perfection shall have to wait another day at least. We can pick up with practice again another day Zuzu,” she states imperiously, laying a hand on his arm as she walks into the small dining area off of the main room. When she gets to the doorway she turns her head slightly to look at him. “Thank you,” she murmurs softly, “I had fun.” Then she sweeps into the other room and out of their sight.

Wordlessly, Zuko and Sokka exit her chambers and begin walking back towards the main part of the palace. “Wow,” Zuko mutters.

“I know,” Sokka says, “She was actually… nice for once. Glad to see the new environment and healers are helping her so much.”

“Me too,” Zuko says quietly, lost in his own thoughts.

“And you,” Sokka blurts out. Zuko looks up at him questioningly. “You’re really helping her too. Clearly,” Sokka rambles. “She seems to be coming around to trusting you a lot more. I know that’s important to you.”

Zuko smiles a bit at that. “Yeah, yeah it is.”

“Sooooooo, about that dance….” Sokka grins at him

“Oh no. No, no, no,” Zuko whines. “I just had a major breakthrough with my sister, can’t I get a pass on the mocking for once?”

Sokka looks vaguely affronted. “Do you know me at all? I am very happy about the whole ‘Breakthrough with formerly evil sister thing,’ but if you think you’re gonna be able to get out of this on the strength of that alone…” he scoffs. “That dance routine is the best material that has fallen into my lap in years, there’s no way I’m about to pass it up!”

Zuko groans affectionately, he knew that was gonna be the answer, and despite his embarrassment he can’t find it in himself to be too upset. He goodnaturedly puts up with Sokka’s shrieking about it as they begin to make their way to dinner. He’s only half paying attention when Sokka says “Oh man, Katara and Aang are gonna love this! Dinner just got so much better!” That snaps Zuko out of his trance right away.

“What do you mean ‘Katara’ and ‘Aang’ and ‘Dinner’?” He demands.

“Oh,” Sokka says slyly, looking at him out of the corner of his eye, “Did I forget to mention? Katara and Aang have dropped in for a surprise visit. We’re headed to dinner with them right now. And trust me, this story, is gonna be the highlight of the evening!” With that Sokka gives him a quick kiss on the cheek, flashes a wicked grin and runs away down the hall and into the dining room. Zuko huffs indignantly, realizing Sokka had run away before he had a chance to respond. Grumbling, but still smiling slightly, he follows his fiancé into the dining room, looking forward to seeing his friends.

[yoon-kooks]

Witch Hazel- Pt.5

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: FanficWriter!Jungkook, Idol!Reader, College!AU, Angst, Fluff

Summary: There are two students in your art class with a secret: you and the quiet Jeon Jungkook. You’re a problematic idol singer, infamous for your ice cold reputation and perpetual resting bitch face; he’s the artist and author behind the viral comic series based on a certain ice queen idol. After a blowup of destructive rumors, lost motivation and inevitable solitude, you stumble upon Jungkook’s comic and find a new and unexpected light.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: none

Parts: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // ?

-

“So are you in, Jimin?”

“I’m in,” he chuckles at your little proposal. His laugh retains its charm, even through the phone. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little jealous of that charming quality of his. “But can I ask you something, Snow?”

“Go for it.”

“Why me?”

“To prove a point,” you say. “You also have something to prove, right? Otherwise you wouldn’t have shown up at my concert that night despite being well aware of how the public and media would react.”

“Right… Sorry about that, by the way.” You hear the sorrow still beating him up in his lowered voice. It makes sense that he feels the need to blame himself for all the backlash you received, but he shouldn’t have to feel guilty when all he wanted was a little freedom as a normal human being and not as the perfect idol the world makes him out to be.

“It’s fine, Jimin. We may be glorified idols at the top of the industry, but there are a lot of things we have no control over.”

“True… Sometimes it seems like the only way to escape the judgment of the public eye is to hide behind a mask, huh.” Jimin sighs. “But we can’t always live like that either.”

“Exactly.”

After hanging up, you toss your phone aside and pick up your guitar.

-

On your way to class, you’ve made a habit of checking jk.seagull’s blog for any updates on Witch Hazel, and you’re delighted when you find this new text post:

“it’s not done yet, but I’m planning on posting a new chapter this afternoon after class!”

To celebrate the occasion, you stop by your local coffee shop to pick up a special mocha with extra whipped cream. You’re already late for class after failing to hear your five alarms this morning anyway. And besides, maybe you deserve a little pick-me-up after all the writing you’d done the night before. For once, you feel pretty good about the direction you’re headed in.

Not even a scolding by your professor could ruin your mood.

“Oh, Y/N. How nice of you to join us,” your professor motions for you to take your seat as soon as you step foot into the art room. “I was just talking about how certain students have not been taking this class seriously as of late.”

She glances directly at you, along with your tablemates, Taehyung and Jungkook. “Sorry,” you mouth with a lack of sincerity, before taking a long sip of your mocha.

“And because of that,” the professor continues, “I’ve decided to move up the due date of our portrait project to tomorrow.”

A collective groan fills the room from the entire class, with the exception of those few lucky bastards who’ve already completed their project early. Once the class is dismissed, the scramble to actually get shit done begins. Even Taehyung opts to stick around as opposed to his usual obligations, and that speaks volumes.

As soon as your team relocates to one of the empty art studios nearby, however, it’s apparent that no one is really vibing with this project.

“So… what’s the assignment again?” Taehyung scratches his head. As much as you’d love to scold the boy for his lack of awareness of anything happening in art class, you haven’t been in the proper mindset to give the project any thought either.

“Something about drawing ourselves based on how others perceive us?” Jungkook yawns. “Or was it drawing each other’s portrait?”

“The first one, I think,” you say. “It doesn’t really make a difference when Jungkook’s gonna end up drawing Taehyung’s portion anyway.”

“True,” the boys say together. If there’s one thing you’ve learned from your art class shenanigans, it’s that the more you get to know someone, the easier it is to understand them and their actions—even if they’re completely different from you like Taehyung.

“If that’s the case, let’s hurry up and let each other know how we perceive one another. I have a doubleheader later on that I’d really hate to miss,” Taehyung nods in satisfaction at his clever wording for what you presume to be back-to-back one night stands. “I’ll start: Y/N, there’s not much I know about you besides the fact that you’re unfriendly, but I think that’s intentional. Like you’re hiding a dark secret or something. Jungkook, if you weren’t so shy, I’m sure you’d get laid more often.”

“Let’s not sugarcoat anything,” you roll your eyes. “I would say you, Taehyung, abuse your charm to get what you want. You use sleeping around as an excuse to avoid responsibility. And you embrace it because you fear that that’s the only thing people will ever acknowledge you for.”

“I’m not usually a masochist, but I kind of like it when you roast me like that, Y/N,” Taehyung shrugs it off, though you know you’ve hit the mark. Everyone has a poker face, and Kim Taehyung is no exception. To take the attention off of himself, he throws an arm around his favorite art buddy. “Roast this guy next.”

You glance over at Jungkook who’s in the midst of adding to your roast on Taehyung. It’s interesting to see how differently he acts with Taehyung, with you, and with everyone else. The more he knows someone, the less he withholds. If he knew you more, you wonder what he’d tell you. “I agree that if Jungkook weren’t so shy, there’d be more potential for a lot of things, but-”

Buzz! Taehyung looks down at his phone. “Well, that’s my cue. Jungkook, Y/N, you know what to do~”

“Have fun at your doubleheader,” you wave off your incompetent teammate until he’s out of sight. “Should we be enabling him like this?”

“Probably not. But even I can’t say no to that charm of his.” Jungkook sighs as he pulls out a blank sheet of bristol paper. In what feels like an instant, several dots and lines transform into a general outline of Taehyung’s face. “I’m surprised you haven’t fallen for his charm yet… unless…?”

“Look, I get the appeal of a smoothtalker who walks with confidence, but Taehyung really isn’t my type,” you laugh.

“Still, I’m a little envious of him.” Jungkook draws Taehyung a nice and natural wink. “Because he isn’t afraid to chase after what he wants.”

You want to tell the boy that he should chase after whatever it is he wants, but you know that’s easier said than done. After all, you know exactly how it feels to take that leap of faith, only to fall short before reaching the dream you so desired. So all you can do is nod and start working on your own portrait.

For about five whole minutes, you try to sketch out a decent upside-down egg shape for your head, but it always comes out a little lopsided or rough around the edges. Once you’ve got a little mountain of eraser shaving piling up, you decide it’s time to sneak a peek at Jungkook’s sketch to get an idea of how a well-seasoned artist draws a proper face.

What you see instead, however, is the boy staring back at your mountain of eraser shavings. You swear you hear a little pft come out of his mouth. The nerve.

“Hold your pencil like this,” he says, holding his own pencil with his pinky sticking out.

You replicate his grip, wiggling the pinky. “Is this some sort of weird pinky promise that artists do?”

Before Jungkook can even respond, your pinky is already linked to his. Funny how his finger curled around yours as if it were the most normal thing to do, but his burning cheeks say otherwise. You might’ve jumped the gun on this one.

After blinking at the empty pinky promise for a good three seconds, the boy finally lets go. “Use that pinky to steady your hand as you sketch.”

“Oh… right…” You feel a wildfire spreading across your own cheeks. Your dumbass somehow misinterpreted a drawing technique for something as childish as a pinky promise! Whether it’s because you’re flustered or just shitty at art, you fumble around to get your pencil on the paper. “…How do I do it again?”

Rather than trying to explain or demonstrate it to you, Jungkook motions for you to come closer. So you do. He takes your hand and individually sets each finger onto your pencil like a guitar teacher helping their student find the right chord position.

You’re pleasantly surprised by how gentle his touch is. Rather than forcing your fingers to conform to the conventional ways of an artist, he gives them the little push they need to find their own place along the length of the pencil—wherever is most comfortable for you.

Once you’ve got a good grip, Jungkook guides your pencil back to the canvas with your pinky just barely touching the drawing surface. “Now try drawing the outline of your face again.”

You do as you’re told and see immediate results. Although it’s not a perfect egg, your lines are noticeably smoother as if your skin had just been cleared. Jungkook gives you and your improved egg a thumbs-up, which you return with a thumbs-up of your own.

As you both resume your portraits, you can’t help but wonder if it was the tiny adjustment of how you held your pencil that made the difference. Or if it was Jeon Jungkook himself. You suppose only time will tell.

Several hours later, Jungkook has finished Taehyung’s portrait, you still need to color yours in, and an announcement goes off through the intercom.

“Due to the art auction charity event tonight, this building will be closing in ten minutes. Thank you.”

You groan. This is the worst case scenario for your damn group project. Because if you’re kicked out of the studio, you won’t have access to all of the necessary art supplies.

Unless…?

You exchange glances with the most devoted artist you know.

-

Jungkook’s apartment is not exactly how you imagined a weeby Snow stan’s habitat to look. There’s not a trace of Snow, nor is there a hint of magic anime girls floating around. But the one thing you did correctly predict is the amount of art scattered across the boy’s room.

Everywhere you look, you’re blown away by something different from the last. A painted city landscape detailed enough to be mistaken for an actual photo, a busy abstract pattern that makes the little wheels in your head spin, the familiar animation booklet of the flower in the snow, and an interesting little doodle that doesn't seem to scream “college art project”.

You try to make sense of what appears to be the chaos that ensues when the worlds of mathematics and music collide. Half of the basic times tables chart is replaced with values represented by music notes. The math nerd in you laughs when you see that a sixteenth note is correctly placed where two quarter notes align. Similarly, the music sheet on the other side of the doodle has a time signature of “75%” aka ¾ time aka the rhythm of a waltz.

“How old were you when you drew this one?” You point to the artwork titled Math Musician written in tiny font at the bottom corner next to the boy’s initials.

Jungkook chuckles, probably out of embarrassment. “I think I was ten.”

“Imagine being a talented artist at age ten. Can’t relate,” you clown yourself as you pull out your unfinished portrait from your art bag. In addition to looking “unfriendly”, your drawn face is rather lifeless and more so demonic for some reason. Hopefully some color will bring more dimension and life back into your flesh.

Just then, you realize you’ve made a fatal mistake.

“Umm, Jungkook?” you continue to stare down at your mistake. “I forgot to factor in your opinion of me into my portrait and now I just look unfriendly like Taehyung said.”

Jungkook tilts his head to get a better look at your monstrosity. His reaction could go one of three ways: he could laugh and give you a hard time about it, he could help you find a solution, or he could do both.

“You definitely nailed the ‘unfriendly’ part,” he snickers. “The RBF is strong with this one.”

“So you agree that I’m unfriendly?” On one hand, that would be good because you won’t have to revise your portrait if Jungkook shares the same opinion as Taehyung. On the other hand, you don’t want Jungkook to have that opinion of you.

“Not necessarily,” he says. “I think if people looked beyond your unfriendly demeanor, they’d find someone very different.”

Before you can ask the boy to elaborate, he has already left and come back with the solution to your problem: fancy coloring markers.

“Since you already drew your appearance based on Taehyung’s opinion, you can color it in based on my opinion, if that makes it easier.” Jungkook hands you an assortment of markers, though a large portion of them are just different shades of one color in particular. Yellow.

Yellow was the last color you were expecting. You expected cooler and darker tones like blues or greys to match your ice queen personality. But yellow? Yellow, to you, has always meant bright and happy.

“Yellow is a happy color, isn’t it?” You start swatching each shade of yellow to see how they translate onto a white canvas. Your favorite shade out of the bunch is the soft pale one called Banana Milk, but that still doesn’t mean it suits you. To prove your point, you hold up your unfriendly demon portrait to your actual face and pout. “Do either of these faces look happy to you, Jungkook?”

“No, but they do look silly.” The boy cracks a smile at your humor. “In a good way.” The way he smiles so brightly plants a dangerous little seed in your head. Maybe the yellow is meant to represent not how he perceives your feelings, but rather, how he perceives his own feelings for you.

-

By the time evening comes, you’ve shaded in every inch of your canvas, completing your portion of the portrait project. You were right—the bright colors really did help bring life back into your face, and there’s less of a demonic aura about it now.

It also looks like one big contradiction: an unfriendly-looking face with a cheerful brightness around it. But that’s probably what Jungkook was referring to when he said you were very different beneath your unfriendly mask.

As you stretch out your arms and yawn, you peek over at the boy’s progress with his portrait. He stares down at his markers scattered across the floor, pushing his long locks out of his eyes, in search of his next color. From the small portion that he has colored so far, you notice a big difference between his portrait and yours. While your color scheme is bright and flashy like a star, Jungkook’s is soft and subtle to mimic his shy and lowkey personality.

“Use this,” you toss him the Banana Milk marker and pull a scrunchie off your wrist, “and this too.”

Jungkook places the pale yellow marker down right on the area he’ll color next. He doesn’t, however, know what to do with the foreign hair accessory in his palm. He just blinks at it.

With a dramatic sigh, you join the boy on the floor and take back the scrunchie. Like a puppy with long bangs poking its eyes, he lets you comb your fingers through his hair before tying a tiny sprout on top of his head.

“So this is what the world looks like,” he nods, as if his long hair had greatly hindered his view of the world in front of him. At the same time, he spots the finished product of your portrait. “Your self-portrait is a lot different from how I would draw you.”

“I would’ve appreciated a compliment for my hard work, but go ahead and insult me, Jeon.” You square up.

“Oh sorry. You did a phenomenal job, Y/N.” He doesn’t even try to put effort into masking his sarcasm as pity praise. But that’s expected in how he hasn’t missed a single opportunity to tease you and your shitty art. “It’s just interesting how differently others interpret us from how we interpret ourselves.”

Now you’re curious. “How would you draw me then?”

“You want to see?” Jungkook pushes his own portrait aside and starts digging around for a sketchbook with a blank page to spare. What possesses him to prioritize a drawing of you before his own portrait that’s due in less than 24 hours? You won’t allow that.

“I want to see it after our project is finished, please,” you pull his unfinished portrait back in front of him before making yourself comfy on the boy’s bed. “In the meantime, I’ll be reading you-know-what.”

“Smut?” The boy has a dirty mind, it seems.

“Unless Witch Hazel plans on getting a little smutty, no, I will not be reading smut.” With a hmph, you scroll through jk.seagull’s blog. “I wonder if the new chapter is posted yet.”

Jungkook, too, picks up his phone with wide eyes when he hears you say “new chapter”. Your hype and excitement around the fanfic must be rubbing off on him.

But unfortunately for you, there is no new post since the one you saw before class. You make a sad booboo face, but it isn’t the end of the world either. You’ll just have to reread the series from the beginning as you wait for either Witch Hazel to be updated or Jungkook to finish the project. Whichever happens first.

“Wait, I think the seagull guy just posted something.”

You’ve never jumped onto your phone so quick when Jungkook mentions the seagull guy. It isn’t a new chapter of Witch Hazel, but instead another small text post.

“sorry for not updating witch hazel today like i said i would!! i was bombarded with an unexpected art assignment;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;”

Your sad booboo face disappears. It seems you’re not the only one struggling to find balance between the arts and the need to satisfy others. “Isn’t it funny that he’s an art student too?”

“Haha, yeah…” Jungkook’s voice fades as he returns to his portrait.

“Maybe that’s why I like his work so much,” you say, clicking back to the very first chapter of Witch Hazel where Snow is helping out those who she had unintentionally scared away with her witchcraft. “He just gets it.”

“He gets what?”

With the biggest yawn, you shrug because you don’t really know how to put it into words. It just feels as though you and him think alike. And the thought of that is comforting enough to put you to rest until Jungkook finishes up the project.

“Y/N.” You hear things shuffling around in your half-asleep state. When you rise from mysterious pile of blankets on top of you, you see Jungkook putting his art supplies away and clearing space on the floor for him to camp out since you’ve apparently claimed his bed.

“Did you finish?” You check the time in the dimly lit room, and you’re shocked to see it’s past midnight.

“Yeah.” He pulls your scrunchie out of his hair and drops it into your palm. “Thank you for your service.”

“Keep it.” You slide the hair tie onto the boy’s wrist when you notice he looks a little different somehow. The hoodie he was wearing earlier is replaced with a plain white tee, and his torn jeans have become grey sweatpants. The unspoken reality of you stay over at the boy’s apartment is slowly becoming realized. “In exchange, I’d like to see how you’d draw me.”

“Already done,” he says, jogging to his desk and back to you with a page from his sketchbook in hand. “I drew you as a superhero.”

“What kind of superhero?” You kick the blankets off of you and reach for the drawing, but of fucking course, Jungkook pulls it back real quick just when you were about to snatch it. “Let me see!”

He keeps it hidden behind his back for a while until he gets a little too cocky and dangles it above where you’re sitting on the bed. It would be too predictable for you to reach for the hand with drawing in it, so you decide to aim for the other arm to trap him in.

But rather than latching onto his arm, you catch only a piece of the scrunchie around his wrist, causing you both to lose balance. Your back hits the soft bedding as you stare up into the eyes of the boy who just so happened to land on top of you. Aha, you finally figure out why he looked a little different after you woke up. No glasses, just his handsome brown eyes.

You’d give yourself a pat on the back for figuring that out if you weren’t distracted by the drawing of you as a “superhero”. You were expecting something tough like the Avengers or Sailor Moon or even Izuku Midoriya. But instead you see someone who looks very much like yourself with a guitar and yellow flower crown.

“That’s not a superhero,” you say quietly.

“There are people who would feel otherwise.” Jungkook plops down next to you on his stomach.

“Like who?”

“Like people you share your music with.”

You bite your lip before rolling off the bed to run and get something. When you hop back onto the bed, you drop a pencil into Jungkook’s hand make him hold it with his pinky out like he had shown you earlier. You do the same with another pencil and link your pinky to his once more.

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you.”

[melwritesbadly]

With Wings in All Black

After a tragic turn of events,  Kazama Kaori , AKA Hex, has her investigation swept out from under her by the #2 Pro Hero. Reluctantly she joins Hawks in the pursuit of justice. On top of trying to solve the biggest case of her career, Kaori is still a young woman struggling to find her place in the world. Life is turned upside down as her professional and personal lives start to blend.

Rating: T (subject to change)

Content Warnings: slight language, implied violence/death

________________________________________________________

Assistance Requested: Information and surveillance details urgently needed regarding reported missing persons. Suspected Vigilante involvement, or other syndicates. Please respond for additional details.

Status of current investigation: Ongoing

__________ 

A Murder of One                        

Hex adjusted the dial on the receiver on her headgear tuning in to the frequency of the microphone planted in the bar below her. She hoped the ungodly amount of paperwork she traded for the device was worth it.  The other detectives at the station simply shrugged at her evidence- or rather, her lack-thereof.

Still it didn’t change the facts.

Fact 1- Low level criminals are disappearing.

Fact 2- People are disappearing

Fact 3- No one cared- but her.

Fact 4- Takei Kenji, one of the missing, had recently been seen in the area and was seemingly ‘not himself’ as described by the anonymous tip that was forwarded to her.

Takei Kenji, age 27. Minor invulnerability quirk. Last known occupation: ‘Nightwatchman’ for a warehouse commonly used for clandestine meetings for the local riff-raff. Reported missing by his mother 3 weeks ago.

After speaking with Mrs. Takei, she pieced together Kenji’s new schedule. After tailing him a few days he truly seemed like a new man, reformed. 

His dress was proper and pristine, clean shaven and hair combed and presentable. It was a stark contrast to the photo used on the missing person flier taped to her pinboard (along with all the other missing persons). With no discernible pattern, at least not to her, about the next victim(?) or the whereabouts of any of the others, Kenji was her best, and only lead.

Tonight, she could expect him to show at one of his usual haunts.  The bar below her. Not to her personal taste, the clientele of the more stabby nature. 

Earlier that week she managed to convince the bartender to spill a few snippets of the conversations between Kenji and the other patrons.

“The Bard this, The Bard that.” griped the bartender as he dumped the trash into the alley dumpster. “It’s pissing off my regulars and they’re pissy enough as it is.” 

He should have been here an hour ago though. Hex sucked on her lower lip, displeased as she scanned the road leading to and from the bar entrance. She’d give it another half hour then try and regroup on his trail in the morning.

“Cheers to another late night.” she muttered to herself listening in to the chatter and ambiance of the dive bar. 

________

Her 30 minutes go by and she huffs before finally switching the receiver off.  She’d go by tomorrow to get the mic back.  Just as she was about to stand from her perch Hex heard the unmistakable beat of wings above her, large ones, judging by the sound. 

It reminded her of her father. Probably one of the last people she wanted to see right now. Especially since her only lead ditched her for the night.

This night sucks.

 Hex thinks to herself, finally looking up intending to see the dark wings of King Crow finally come to drag her home but instead, she sees red.

This has to be the reason Kenji never showed. The thought bounces around her head angrily as none other than the number 2 Hero in Japan descended from the nightly heavens and landed on her rooftop.

This night really sucks.

“Yo!” Hawks held up a hand in greeting neatly folding his very noticeable wings against his back, shoving the other hand into his pocket.

“Will you get down!” Hex harshly whispers, gesturing him to stoop down and out of sight.

“Jeesh, hi, hello how are you? I’m fine, thanks for asking.” he jokes casually but still squats down feet planted on the ground resting his arms on his knees. Hex shakes her head and resumes her post looking up and down the street despite her previous resignation.

“You’re Hex right?” he starts “I’m-” She cuts him off not taking her eyes off the street.

“Obviously I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are. Especially every lowlife in the area who’ve probably fled after seeing your chicken legs flailing in the wind.”

“Ooo, ah, that’s my physical appearance. That hurts you know.” Feigning  being wounded, Hawks placed a hand over his heart but still kept the jovial tone. A smart smirk inching up his cheek continuing. 

“But you’re not after ‘every lowlife’, though right? Just the one. Takei Kenji?'' 

She turned to him and tilted her head, large round eyes finally meeting his sharper, more angled ones. 

“How did you...?” she trailed off, honestly surprised. It wasn’t common knowledge on how her ‘investigation’ was going. Uncommon because, well quite frankly… no one cared. Especially other Heroes. 

“Sorry Chickadee but I got some bad news.” Hawks stood back up and crossed his arms leaning against a nearby cooling unit.

Hex rolled her eyes

“Don’t call me that. What happened?” She looked up at him.

“Well, one of my guys found your guy in… not great shape.” 

Hex cursed running a hand through the back of her head, then sighed.

“How bad?” prepping for his answer.

“Morgue bad”

“Dammit!” cursing again, pinching her brow reeling from the implications.

“Your buddies at the station said you'd might want to know as a professional courtesy” brow pinched once more, Hex felt the annoying start of a headache between them.

“Courtesy? For what...” a thought flashing through her mind and she stood eyes going wide “Don’t you dare close my case!” jabbing a finger in his direction.

 He turned his head to face her more, still calm, still leaning, still observing.

“Close it? Oh no, wouldn’t think of it Chickadee. I’m taking over the investigation.”

Hex gaped. Momentarily at a loss for words. The frustrations starting to come to a point at the back of her neck, feeling an uncomfortable bristle forming.

“What no, you can’t! Do you know how much work” gesturing wildly with her hands “How much time! The favors I had to do, the resources I scrounged for-”

“Which are no longer a problem.” He blocked one ear with a finger and shot her what would have been an award winning smile “No need to shout Hex. Obviously I want to keep you,”  He paused, throwing a wink her way  “Keep you on the investigation that is.”

Hex scoffed,her head bobbing back as she shot him an incredulous look.

“I don’t do agencies, and I’m no one's sidekick.” she threw another annoyed jab of her finger in his direction.

“Ooo touchy. Freelance then. Sound good Chickadee?” Hawks held up his hand to maybe physically shield him from her ire.

“Stop calling me that and maybe I’ll let you help”

He smiled-no smirked again pushing off of the cooling unit he was leaning on stepping towards her shrugging his shoulders.

“That doesn't sound like a mutually beneficial arrangement to me.” Hex rolled her eyes and crossed her arms haughtily with a huff.

“And how does calling me stereotyped nickname benefit you, birdbrain.” 

Hawks chuckled. He didn’t expect it to be so easy to ruffle her feathers.

This was going to be fun.

“Isn’t that how these buddy cop movies play out? One hard-ass with a secret heart of gold and their handsome, comic relief partner put aside their differences to crack the case and learn the meaning of cooperation and friendship. Roll credits”

Hex tilted her head and shot him an unamused expression, opening her mouth to speak.

“I am not a hardass-” she stopped herself holding her palm up to stop the little banter she was getting pulled into. “Can you circle back, Takei Kenji?”

“Can we circle back to this team up? After all this is my case now?” 

Hex scrunched up her nose, not pouting, she told herself, and re-crossed her arms.

“Sounds like something a hardass would say.” she snarked and he grinned again, throwing his arms up bringing them down behind his head.

“You caught me. Hawks, the hardass with a heart of gold. Guess that makes you my handsome, no wait, beautiful partner then. So how's about it Chickadee?”

“Uhg” Hex clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes again. Squaring her shoulders she placed her hands on her hips

“I want a contract. Full access and authority over any and all future developments and details about my case.” Hawks nodded but shot her a finger gun.

“Our case.”

“Whatever!” she sighed looking up at the night sky hands still on her hips. 

“The agency manager can draft up whatever you’d like tomorrow. Let’s go see what Kenji had in his pockets shall we?”

Hex nodded reaching up to her headgear. She flicked the visor portion that was pushing her hair back over her eyes. The experimental mirrored tint softening the city night lights. She switched the setting on her earpiece making sure the seal around the was snug. Hawks floated a foot above the ground looking a little bored as he waited.

 Show off

Hex activated her own quirk, the bundle of jet black feathers at the base of her hair sending a shiver down her spine causing other inky feathers to erupt from her skin. The ebony plumes forming patterned rows along her arms covering them completely. 

Letting them creep upwards to the sides of her neck but stopped them before then could go any further on her body. Just enough for her to achieve flight. She did a small jump maintaining the upward moment with a strong flap of her feather covered arms and started for the station.

Harpy Hero: Hex

Quirk: Harpy- Half human, half bird! She’s able to do most things a bird can do and then some! Most notably, she can grow enough feathers to achieve flight.

______

There is no traffic in the sky and the previously chatty #2 Hero was silent during their flight. Hex was thankful, it gave her some time, however brief, to think.

This new development was...tragic. Someone would have to tell Mrs.Takei in the morning.

It should be me...

It’s just, Kenji was small time.  So why would he turn up dead?

And more importantly...

Hex cast a look in her periphery at the Fierce Wing Hero.

How did this fall into the lap of the number 2 Hero?

______

Hawks landed first. Not bothering to tame his windswept hair but did look up to observe Hex’s descent. She wasn’t quite as fast as him, well, then again, no one was. But she was graceful and skilled as she navigated the air currents. 

Fanning her wings wide Hex slowed her movements getting ready to land. A few more well practiced flutters and she also touched back down. Before she can remove her headgear she dispels her feathers. Casting them off with a quick flick of her arms. She hardened them into slivers then ground them to sand with another flick to minimize the mess and general rudeness of not picking up after your quirk.

She adjusted her headgear and hair and blatantly ignored the cheeky claps and nods of approval from the man besides her. She strode past him and up into the station. The night reception paid her no mind but did double take when they saw Hawks’s crimson wings engulfing their foyer.

Just outside the morgue waited a man with an impressive and well manicured mustache. He wore a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, suspenders and the first few buttons open.

“This her boss?” he asked in an accent indicating that he was from Australia. 

“Hex,” she offered “And you are?”

“Duke Amazing. Pleasure.” he greeted offering his hand. She was not expecting such a strong handshake.

“Given the circumstances…” she trailed off.  “You found Takei?”

“Well, what’s left that is…” Duke gestured to the door he was waiting in front of  “They’ve finished up for now. Just waiting on the bossman for the paperwork and whatnot.” He made another gesture in the direction of a door a little ways down the corridor.

“They’ve got his belongings in there”

“Perfect, cross the t’s and dot the i’s for me Duke?” before his sidekick could answer Hawks was already starting down the corridor. Hex followed close behind. 

Duke shook his head crossing his arms.

“June’s gunna pitch a fit again Hawks”

“Op, can’t hear you, the doors closing!” gently shoving Hex in the room and hastily closed the door behind them.

“Uhg paperwork” He bemoaned and leaned against the door

“Paperwork” Hex commiserated but was already looking over the items laid out on the small table.

There wasn’t much but everything was bagged, labeled and detailed on a piece of paper next to the items.

There was a small wallet, no money, a personal ID card. An older model cell phone, unusable. Most likely damaged in whatever altercation Kenji found himself in.

“Probably a burner” Hawks shrugged “Still, I'll get someone to pull the numbers.”  He made no move to examine the items himself but instead watched Hex very carefully as she examined each one. 

She cupped her chin as she looked at the final piece of evidence, brow furrowed.

“I’ve seen this before...” she commented, turning over the small business card over front to back several times examining it. 

While it was the same shape and card stock as a business card it held no information. No address, phone number, or even a business name. All that was printed was an indigo triangle.

“What is it?” He was curious because he had no idea what the shape meant either.

“I…” she started, brows still furrowed. “I have no idea, but I know I've seen this...” 

She placed the bagged card back on the table and leaned over it rubbing her hand to the back of her neck smoothing down her feathers there. The memory of where she’d seen this particular shape eluding her.

“Maybe at his apartment?” she muttered to herself, then sighed

“I’ll have to go back over my notes.” Hex leaned up from the table and unzipped her jacket pulling out her phone and snapped a quick picture on the item.

“How about we meet back up tomorrow then. Let me give you my number.” Hawks held out his palm asking for her phone. She was just about to hand it over but thought better and pulled it back causing him to catch air.

“No social calls, no memes at 3 in the morning, no unsolicited pictures.” her tone stern

“What if they’re tasteful?” he made a grabby motion with his hands and gave his brows a waggle.

“They’re never tasteful.” she quipped back but finally relented and handed over her phone.

Hawks flipped it over in his hands and quickly typed in his information jokingly setting the name for his number “Unsolicited dick pics” with an appropriate emoji next to it. He sent himself a quick text with her phone then clicked hers off and handed it back to her.

He was extremely pleased when she didn’t double check his contact info and simply zipped the phone back into her pocket. His little joke would be a fun surprise for the morning then.

“Send me where you want to meet tomorrow” She pressed her fingers to the back of her neck again “I’m heading out. Looong night” 

Hawks moved away from the door and let her pass, parting for the night.

“Well that led to a whole lotta nothing” He mused to himself finally taking his turn to look over the offending card stock.

“It’s never an easy mess to clean up is it?” He tossed the card back on the table.

_________________________________

[imyourliquor-youremypoison]

Off Screen (Peter Parker x Reader) One-shot

Synopsis: Nobody’s above a good old Hollywood cliché.

Warnings: lotta fluff, whole lotta teasing, bit of sexy times

Word count: 3.6k

A/N: This was initially meant to be a part of my Peter series A Girl’s Best Friend but I couldn’t figure out a good way to incorporate it into the story, so here goes nothing. It’s a standalone one-shot for your enjoyment now, because I cannot erase an entire segment I wrote for the life of me, even if it has no place in my current WIP. 

MASTERLIST

               Peter and her had been on their way back from visiting May when it started raining. It wasn’t too bad at first, merely an evening drizzle on a Fall day – not surprising, to be expected even. The walk from the Queens apartment to Peter’s dorm room was a solid twenty-five minutes when they didn’t stop every time they saw a dog to look at it and maybe pet it.

               About fifteen minutes after saying goodbye and bidding goodnight to May, (Y/N) felt the first drop hit her forehead, and she looked up.

“What is it? Raining again?” Peter asked when she stopped in her tracks to look upwards.

               It had been raining on and off again all week, truly typical Fall weather – unpredictable and always taking people by surprise.

“I think I felt something,” she hummed, not feeling anything anymore. She shrugged. “Must have imagined it.”

               She didn’t imagine it. A faint drizzle began to fall from the sky, barely visible, and impossible to feel. If it weren’t for Peter’s hair slowly staring to curl up, they wouldn’t have noticed at all. He kept running his hand through his hair to flat it out, but it was no use. (Y/N) tugged on his hand to make him stop, giggling.

“Why you don’t like your curls is beyond me,” she told him, wiping a damp curl out of his face. She had stopped walking under a streetlamp and gazed up at Peter with a large, happy smile.

               He groaned.

“They make me look like I’m twelve!” he complained, leaning slightly into (Y/N) while they resumed walking.

               The drizzle didn’t show any sign of stopping, if anything it slowly turned into proper raindrops they could actually see in the light of the streetlamps. They weren’t exactly in the most crowded area of the city; in fact, they purposely chose not to use the busy streets and to walk through the tranquil residential neighborhood. It made their walk five minutes longer but it was damn well worth the peace and quiet.

               Still, (Y/N) wasn’t going to let a bit of humidity ruin her mood – they had had a great day so far, and every intention to finish it on a positive note. His comment prompted another chuckle out of her.

“And yet, for some reason I am attracted to you,” she teased him. “I wouldn’t say you look twelve, you just look… like a late-blooming twenty-something.”

“This is so much better, thank you (Y/N)!” Peter rolled his eyes and she bumped into his shoulder for his use of sarcasm.

               The ambient humidity was beginning to form droplets in their hair. The curls on Peter’s head dripped a little now, and a trickle of water ran down (Y/N)’s nose. If only they had thought about taking an umbrella with them! This week’s shitty weather should have taught them a lesson, expect it didn’t.

“On the bright side, we’re the only ones here, so no need to kill any possible witness,” she continued to tease him. “I don’t count of course.”

“It could at least rain properly! This way my hair would just be flat – I’d rather look like a wet retriever than Miss Rogers’ ill-tempered poodle,” he told her, referring to May’s old downstairs neighbor, a sweet old lady with the most vicious poodle he ever met.

               (Y/N) laughed, picturing the scene. She then pulled on his arm to make him pick up his pace.

“Charming imagine. Now hurry, I can feel the rain is picking up.”

               Peter tugged gently on (Y/N)’s hand to pull her towards him and he opened his jacket so she could wrap an arm around his waist under the garment. She snuggled close to him, smiling in delight at the additional warmth coming from his body. He was always so warm, so welcoming a presence.

               Even he couldn’t hold back the tender smile that etched onto his lips, unable to push down the swell of pride blooming in his chest when his girlfriend so gladly huddled against him. There was something truly territorial about the feeling; it appealed to his possessiveness to know that she came to him when she was cold, or needed shielding from the rain.

               Expect Peter’s arm draped over (Y/N)’s shoulders, and his half open jacket couldn’t fight against what came next. From slight drizzle making Peter’s hair curl, it suddenly became a proper Fall downpour. They emerged from the residential streets and into the busier areas, though most streets quickly cleared off people – everybody ran to shelter.

“Well this wasn’t part of the plan,” Peter simply said, not particularly bothered but still wishing they could have left ten minutes earlier and avoided the rain altogether.

               They arrived on campus a few minutes later, already feeling the water soaking through their clothes when Peter’s dorm came into view. They could see a swarm of people running towards the double doors at the front of the building, seeking shelter too.

               Suddenly, (Y/N) nearly slipped on the wet ground when Peter stopped dead in his tracks while still holding her. She whipped her head around to see what the matter was and found nothing but Peter, a strange smirk upturning the corner of his mouth.

"Wait! It's raining," Peter pointed out the obvious, a lingering dreamy smile on his face.

"Yes, I know. That's why I'm hurrying inside," (Y/N) simply said, pointing towards the front doors. "What else am I supposed to do?” Most people had beat them to it already.

"We have to kiss," he blurted out as if it was the most logical thing in the world, as if she should have known. "Like in the movies," he added with a grin, watching (Y/N)'s puzzlement slowly turn into amusement and fondness.

               The outer corners of her eyes were tinted black due to her mascara, and one could argue that streetlamps didn’t do much for one’s complexion, but Peter could swear she had never been more beautiful than right this instant.

"It's never like in the movies." She shook her head and tried to turn around and make for the door but Peter was planted in the ground like a rock and didn't move an inch, no matter how hard she pulled.

"Only one way to find out," he laughed, watching her resign herself and face him again.

"It's a downpour, Peter," she said.

               She could try all she wanted to convince him that she wanted to go inside right now, Peter knew her well enough to read between the lines and see that she didn't actually mind being a little wet. A little, or a lot.

"Exactly. We're drenched to the bone already, might as well do this."

"Your logic is flawless," she laughed before leaning in until the tip of her nose brushed his. "I'm all yours, hot stuff. Give me my kiss under the rain."

               A self-satisfied smile was painted on Peter’s face when he leaned down to meet (Y/N)’s eager lips for a Hollywood-worthy kiss. He couldn’t even remember the last time he saw this cliché scene happen in a movie, he simply took any chance to kiss his girlfriend, and that was a fact.

               Their enthusiasm surely had to make up for the less then ideal weather conditions, although the weather was exactly why they stood outside Peter’s building in the pouring rain, late at night, kissing like it was the last time. (Y/N)’s hands had sneaked behind Peter’s neck to pressed his lips harder against hers, refusing to put an end to their kiss. Not that he had any intention to be the one to pull back first. He cradled (Y/N)’s face between his hand, wiping off the excess water running down her face, his fingers tangled in her hair.

               It was not like in the movies indeed. It was cold and wet and slippery but they laughed it off and kept on kissing for a while longer, until the clap of thunder startled both of them into breaking their embrace.

"I admit standing in the rain looks more romantic on a screen than it feels right now," Peter reluctantly told (Y/N) while she giggled in the crook of his neck.

"Told you.” She turned her head to murmur in his ear. “But now we get to do the natural follow-up scene where we both stumble back to your room and take off our wet clothes to warm each other up..." She didn't conclude her sentence, leaving it up to their imagination. “They don’t show those on screen.”

               Peter's face and neck flamed up. He didn't waste any time and took (Y/N)‘s hand to drag her towards his building.

"We'll get sick if we stay out there, let's go inside," he simply said. Emmeline smiled and bit down on her lower lip; she picked up her pace, eagerly following her boyfriend back to his dorm.

               So many people stood in the hall that they had to elbow their way towards the elevators, but once they stumbled through the door to Peter’s single room, they reveled in being just the two of them. Coats were being shrugged off, shoes kicked off, hair pulled back and away from their faces as they hastily stripped each other of their clothes.

“Wait, wait, wait!” (Y/N) stopped Peter when he tried to take off her sweater, laughing as she untangled a strand of hair from around a decorative shoulder button.

“We good?” he asked after a second of two.

“Yeah, we’re good.”

               Peter chuckled and threw the garment in the laundry bin next to his bed – the rest of their clothes ended up in the same place, spilling over the top, leaving drops of water on the floor around it. That was a problem from tomorrow.

               (Y/N) lunged forward to press her lips against Peter’s, pulling him into a steaming embrace that he wished he could be consumed in. Her fire set alight his very being, made his fingers tingle wherever he touched her skin. The cold was forgotten now that this a hearth was lit in their core.

               The toughest part was getting out of their wet jeans – it led it a frankly comical wigging session that they both laughed off; what else was there to do anything? When (Y/N) freed herself from the sticky garment, she sighed in victory and plopped down onto the bed, using her elbows to prop herself up while Peter still struggled to get his pants off.

“Take your time, love,” she hummed, sending him a blazing look, a half-smile dancing on her lips.

               Her glee was short lived and soon replaced by something a little less innocent. Peter discarded the annoying piece of clothing and joined (Y/N) on the bed, crawling over her, one hand gripping her thigh and keeping it pressed against his hips. The feverish pecks he left in his wake as he made his way down her body left (Y/N) breathless and shaking for more; the way he grinded his hips into hers slowly driving her insane, even though they hadn’t taken off their underwear yet.

“I changed my mind, don’t take your mind,” she whined when she tried to reciprocate his ministrations but was quickly and efficiently restrained. “Peter…” she warned him.

               Peter’s left hand shot up and pinned her wrists above her head, keeping her from touching him. He knew she loved to touch him, let her hands roam while he stole away her breath with burning kisses, and he was entirely aware of the fact that it drove her over the edge when she couldn’t.

               She wanted to object, but then his free hand traveled south and the second she felt a finger hook underneath the elastic of her underwear, the protest died in her throat. Seeing Peter’s boyish grin widen a little, she knew he was doing it all on purpose, playing her like a fiddle. A deeply consenting and eager fiddle that was ready and willing to beg to be played a little harder and faster.

               Their underwear was gone in the blink of an eye – all Peter’s doing since (Y/N)’s freedom of movement was still very limited.

               When he got off the bed, (Y/N)’s head shot up.

“What are you-“

               Her question found an answer before she could finish when something sticky wrapped around her wrists, gluing her hands to the headboard.

“You didn’t…” she gasped, twisting her neck to look at the webs holding her down.

“I did,” Peter quipped happily, climbing over her once again after discarding the web shooter.

               (Y/N) sported a disbelieving, shocked smile on her face, too turned on to really complain yet unquestionably itching to get her hands on Peter’s body. Her eyes devoured what she couldn’t touch, lingering on his toned chest and arms, already thinking about all the places she would run her fingers over and kiss once she was freed.

“I need to touch you,” she began to whined, unable to hide the neediness in her voice as she squirmed beneath him, hips rolling to try and get some much-needed contact. The warmth between her legs demanded attention.

               Peter smirked and placed a kiss on the swell of her breast, not breaking eye contact as he slowly placed another kiss slightly below the first one. He made his way down her body so slowly (Y/N) could have screamed out in agony. She arched her back in an attempt to press him on non-verbally, to show him how much she needed him.

“You’re are too impatient,” Peter muttered against her stomach, placing a feather-like kiss above her navel and earned a pained moaned in response. “Relax,” he told her, placing a hand on her ribcage to calm down the ripples of her body. “I’ll take the webs off in just a moment.”

“What are they for the- Oh! Oh…” (Y/N)’s sentence got lost somewhere between her brain and her mouth when Peter finally decided to put an end to her torture and dived between her thighs.

               She was rendered speechless and couldn’t articulate anything proper words, only managing to moan in pleasure and throw her head back into Peter’s pillow. It smelled like him too, the scent intoxicating her to the point of dizziness while he worked her up with his mouth and fingers.

               Heavy pants left (Y/N)’s mouth, growing quicker the closer she got to her release. Peter doubled his efforts and picked up the pace; his arms were hooked around (Y/N)’s thighs to keep her pinned against the mattress despite the rolling of her hips – she couldn’t help it, her body moved of its own volition. Her pulled on the webs so hard it hurt a little but the extasy overpowered it all – she was going to- she-

“Peter… Peter…” (Y/N) repeated his name without thinking, like a prayer, as the orgasm washed over her.

               Her entire body trembled slightly, muscles simultaneously tense and more relaxed than ever. She drops running down her neck weren’t due to the rain this time; it was sweat and pleasure that rendered her a mess. Peter released her legs and emerged from between her legs, looking smug as ever.

               He had the graciousness of giving (Y/N) a minute to recover and regain her breath. His eyes never left her, he couldn’t detach his gaze from her shivering body, chest heaving, cheeks rosy and eyes glimmering with malice.

               Peter smirked and crawled back up to place a kiss on her lips, then denied her the last second. (Y/N)’s jaw fell open at his audacity, her reaction making him laugh a bit. He reached up to take the webs off – at long last – and she didn’t waste a second to grab his face and pull it towards her, body undulating under his when she captured his lips for a greedy kiss.

               (Y/N) ran a hand through his hair, sending a few droplets of rain of his shoulders, and she opened her mouth to deepen the kiss – they could get lost in this passionate embrace, forever remain entangled like they were; all naked bodies and bare feelings.

               When they broke apart, lips swollen and slightly numb, eyes fluttering, (Y/N) grinned at Peter.

“My turn now.”

 *

               Peter’s side was a safe place providing both comfort and warmth, but eventually, (Y/N) had to get up. She had to use the bathroom and they had made quite the mess when they arrived in in room. Not that it mattered then, they were too busy to realize. Therefore, ignoring Peter’s weak groans of protest when she slipped out from under his arm, (Y/N) grabbed a clean pair of panties, and selected a t-shirt from Peter’s drawer to sleep in, then headed for the bathroom.

“Come back,” Peter whined, slipping over to try and find a comfortable position without her in the bed.

“You come out!” she replied, giggling.

               She was right, he knew it. Was he going to admit it out loud? Probably not. Though it would be a show a tremendous ill-will to stay in bed when they so clearly couldn’t spend the night like this. The wet clothes needed to be put in the washing machine – May had gifted Peter with a small washing machine last Christmas, thinking – and rightly so – that the university’s laundry room wasn’t the best place to wash his Spider-Man suit.

               And he needed to brush his teeth, too. God, this was too much effort. Still, he climbed out of bed, his dramatic groan answered by a light chuckle coming from the bathroom. (Y/N) had left the door ajar, light filtering through the opening and into the room. He switched on the lamp on his nightstand.

               He heard the sound of running water. While (Y/N) took her shower, Peter gathered their discarded clothes and took the laundry basket under his arm, carrying it to his bathroom. He hadn’t even finished stuffing the clothes in the washing machine when (Y/N) came out of the shower along with a cloud of steam.

               Despite the small space, they made do, and this was a dance they knew by heart. (Y/N) sat on the small stool in the corner and dabbed her hair to get the water out. She was quick to dry herself and slip on the underwear and t-shirt she had picked before her shower.

“Somebody’s tired,” she commented, hugging Peter from behind while he brushed his teeth, locking gaze in the mirror.

“’m tired,” he assured her. “Could go another two rounds.” Peter puffed out his chest, making (Y/N) laugh.

               She let him go so he could rinse his mouth.

“So, what do you think about my cheesy ass now? Still think kissing in the rain is lame?” he asked with a smug grin, making her roll her eyes.

               (Y/N) grabbed her toothbrush from the glass it was in and huffed.

"We are never doing that again. We'll both be sick in the morning. And who will take care of us if we're both bed-ridden?" she declared dramatically, bumping her hips into his to get access to the sink.

"Fine by me as long as we're in same bed," Peter snickered, earning a pinch to the arm. "Ouch! What was that for?"

"For your dumbassery," (Y/N) said, smiling at him though the mirror. Then she began to brush her teeth and he knew he could talk without being interrupted now.

"I was being romantic," he argued. "I don't care if you have the sniffles or sweat out a fever, I just want to be with you."

"Machbye I don't wancht you to schee me when I'm schick," she said without stopping her energetic tooth-brushing.

"Nonsense." Peter shook his head. "Ned can cover for us in class, and we'll watch bad movies and feed each other soup and medicine. We'll have such a great time, you'll see!"

               (Y/N) rolled her eyes then leaned down to rinse her mouth before speaking again.

"I see now that we need to work on your definition of romance and on what makes for a great time," she sassed him, still speaking to him through the mirror.

"I'm joking, I'm joking," Peter swore, holding up his hands in surrender before wrapping them around (Y/N)’s                shoulders and pecking her temple. "I haven't really gotten sick since high school, guess that's another Spider-perk." He chuckled at his own joke. "But I promise to take care of you if you have a cold. Sorry for making you stand in the pouring rain."

               How was she supposed to resist the adorable pout on his dumb fucking face? Argh!

"The things I do for you," she sighed with a little more drama than necessary.

"C'mon, it was worth it," Peter tried to make her admit. "There's no harm in admitting you were wrong."

"The standing in the rain part was not anywhere near what Hollywood wants to sell us," she insisted.

"But...?" Peter encouraged her, smiling already. He knew he had won when he saw the way (Y/N)’s lips twitch in the mirror, as she fought to keep a poker face.

"But I guess the second part made up for it," she finally said, tearing her gaze away from the mirror to look at Peter directly.

               For some reason, she felt embarrassed to say this out loud. She wasn't a shy person, she never batted an eyelash when faced with a crude joke, but talking about intimacy made her feel all kinds of feelings. There she stood, barely covered, cheeks rosy from her hot shower - or maybe she was blushing? Peter wondered, and he was so in love with her. A feeling that was entirely mutual.

               (Y/N) extended her arms and wrapped them around Peter’s shoulders. She had to stand on her toes to brush her nose against his, making them both smile like the love-struck idiots they were. Peter even had to hide his face and the blush creeping up his neck, dropping his forehead onto her shoulder while her fingers gently massaged the back of his neck.

               He couldn’t resist her touch and kissed her on her sweet spot.

"Rom-com movies don't have anything on us," Peter whispered against the skin of her shoulder, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake.

.

.

.

Reblog to save a writer

Taglist: @the-freefeather @golden-guide @of-virtuoso @justanothercynicalgenzkid

[that-shamrock-vibe]

Disney+ What To Watch: My Top 10 Favourite Modern-Day Disney Classics

#7. Big Hero 6

I have to say there was a very big toss-up between #7 and #6 for this movie and my #6 choice but I ultimately decided to make Big Hero 6 #7 because while it’s a fantastic movie, #6 is more revolutionary in my opinion.

But Big Hero 6 is not only the first Disney Movie proper superhero movie but an actual Disney Animation-Marvel Studios bridge. Big Hero 6 has been a Marvel Comics superhero team since 1998 and yet 2014 was the first time I knew about them through this 3D animated movie.

However, this isn’t simply a kids action movie, I would even go so far as to say this is the animation equivalent to 2012′s The Avengers. It has heart, it has action, it has comedy, it has depth. It doesn’t just skim the surface of what makes a great superhero movie, it dives in with the character development, making each main character a memorable individual, but also it is such a riveting plot that makes you not only root for the heroes but actually have sympathy for the villain, once you find out his true motives at least.

But not only does the movie tell the origins of a teen superhero team so very well, but also really delves into the humanity of these characters and in particular the main character Hiro.

We see this great bond he has with his older brother Tadashi for a big chunk of this movie and the fact Tadashi is the father figure in Hiro’s life and to a degree the main parental figure as their aunt is not all that involved.

The fact Tadashi encourages Hiro rather than scolding him like a parent would do for his disobedience is so heartwarming and really great to see in a Disney movie, even a superhero movie. You often see the parents of superheroes either being distant, barely around or comedic side characters whereas here Tadashi, I guess because he is Hiro’s brother, is more hands on in terms of trying to get the best out of him as well as opening up opportunities to him.

All of this makes Tadashi’s death that much more tragic. Yes it is sabotage by our villain in order to obtain the Microbots, but Tadashi actually dying is simply a freak accident. Callaghan probably didn’t intend for Tadashi to die, it was simply wrong place wrong time. But because these freak accidents are so real world, it makes the grieving process that Hiro goes through that much more relatable.

I also just really like the team as a whole. Not only is my tech-enthusiastic heart singing when I first see them all in that lab at their own individual stations but it is interesting with this team to see if the individual fan can see themselves in a member or two.

I personally see myself in Wasabi. Not only does this character either have ASD or simply just OCD, but his suit colour is green which is my favourite and his personality is that of neurotic and eccentric perfectionist.

My only issue with him is Damon Wayans Jr and that is because I’m not a particular fan of the Wayans family. It doesn’t take away from how great the character is but it is slightly distracting to know who it is.

On the flip of that, this movie introduced me to Ryan Potter who voices Hiro. Now true, I would not be re-acquainted with him until 2018′s Titans where he plays Beast Boy who is my favourite Titan, so the fact he is in a Disney-Marvel property first is quite nice to think an up and coming actor can spread his resume over multiple acting roles for rival studios.

It’s also really great how diverse this cast of characters are. They are from a city called San Fransokyo which is obviously a combination of two cities I want to visit but the culmination of these two...I would move there tomorrow if given the opportunity.

But this cast not only spotlight Asian talent such as Ryan Potter, Jamie Chung and Daniel Hanney, but you also have some South American representation with Genesis Rodriguez as well as spotlighting older jobbing actors like Alan Tudyk and James Cromwell.

With T.J. Miller as Fred, not only is he my least favourite character as genuinely I constantly feel that Miller was trying to make Fred the human version of Goofy, but also this movie happened before all of Miller’s legal issues. This could taint a person’s opinion of him post-allegations, for me though I didn’t think much of him to begin with.

Then there’s Scott Adsit. I don’t know if he changed his voice a lot for the role of Baymax and I also don’t know if Baymax is the role he loves to play as his main role since this movie has been this role in the spin-off series, but he is great in the role. I know I’m comparing this to the MCU a lot but Adsit is a bit like Paul Bettany in that sense of portraying a robot and having that calm and emotionless voice, but Baymax’s robotic voice is programmed to be uplifting and so to constantly be uplifting I feel is a harder ask than to constantly be emotionless.

In terms of music, I love Fall Out Boy and “Immortals” is such a great song. It is used so well during that team assembling montage. I loved how the music compliments Hiro helping to upgrade all of his teammates suits and arsenal in order to combat Yokai, seeing them train with their individual weapons. Honey with her multicoloured balls, Go-Go with her cycle and rings, Wasabi with his plasma blades and Hiro himself with his robots.

Fred for me is the one that doesn’t make sense, but it does at the same time. He’s the oddball that doesn’t exactly fit in but he does fit in. He stands out but for a good reason. Unlike wearing advanced-looking stylish armour he is dressed like a monster movie monster but with a flamethrower, who gives this guy a flamethrower?!

All of this is some way is about the advances in robotic technology in what is essentially modern day and my inner and outer geek is screaming for it.

The movie is great, there is so much depth to every small moment even if it isn’t explored in the movie properly it leaves an impression with the viewer. I guess with it having a spin-off animated series it won’t be getting a sequel but every time we see the team assembling at the end of the movie it always gives me a great sense of excitement that all superheroes movies give me.

So what do you guys think? Post your comments and check out more Disney+ What to Watch Top 10s as well as more Top 10 Lists and other posts.

[hopelessromanticspoonie]

As You Are

Title: Grilled Cheese

Co-authors: hopeless_romantic_spoonie, yespolkadotkitty

Summary: A reader insert series about a spoonie Stark Industries IT tech who finds a kindred spirit in Loki, God of Spoons, because it’s hard being different on the inside.

Rating: General Audiences

Also found on Ao3 here :)

Taglist: @just-the-hiddles, @yespolkadotkitty

“Is it a critical emergency or can it wait until tomorrow morning?” you asked distractedly, holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder while you perched on your stool in front of the stove, watching over your grilled ham and cheese sandwiches sizzling pleasantly.

“How long do you think an issue like this will take to wrap up?” Tony shot back another question, voice distorted slightly by the cell phone speaker wedged into your shoulder.

You flipped over the first sandwich, nodding silently to yourself in approval, and then flipped over the second. Your mouth quirked to the side and you shrugged your shoulders lightly, as if your boss could actually see you. No, the only one who could currently see you was the long and lean Asgardian draped across your couch.

“Hard to say. A few hours, maybe? But it’s…” your eyes drifted to the clock on the stove, “already eight o’clock. I’m not sure if I’d get anything done besides staring at the screen blankly at this point, Boss.”

“Fair enough, Spoons. Take your meds, get some sleep. We’ll touch base tomorrow,” he paused, and his tone shifted from kindness to concern, “Reindeer Games still there?”

“Mhm,” you hummed your assent, not wanting to think about the implications that held.

“He bothering you? Say the word, Dorothy,” he added referring to your home state, “I’ll have his ass out of there.”

“He’s fine.” It was, shockingly, true.

You hung up and slid the phone onto the counter beside the stove, directing your full attention to the sandwiches frying in front of you and maintaining your precarious balance on your cheap stool. It had only been five dollars at a local thrift shop, and with what you paid for rent for your tiny one-bedroom apartment in New York City, you preferred to save any money that you had. Medical bills ate at most of your expenses, and you never knew when a new one would arise.

“Why does that overgrown manchild Stark address you as cutlery?” Loki came up behind you, watching you tend to the sandwiches as he waited for your response.

You carefully leaned forward to turn off the burner to the ancient stove and pulled the pan off of the heat. “Grab a couple plates? They’re in there,” you pointed him in the right direction.

He didn’t object to your request, simply grabbed them for you and deposited them on the counter beside your phone. “I asked you a question, mortal,” he repeated, the barest hint of frustration peeking through his typical bored tones.

You rolled your eyes and slid a sandwich onto a plate, holding it out for him with a small smile. “You did, but I was focusing on not falling on my butt from this rickety stool and burning your precious sandwich. So impatient. Now, do you want your sandwich cut up?”

He looked so offended at the suggestion that it was comical, and your smile grew to crinkle around your eyes and nose. “I can handle Midgardian food perfectly well without your help.”

“Suit yourself. It tastes better cut into triangles. Not rectangles. If you cut it into rectangles then you’re a heathen and cannot be trusted,” you explained with mock seriousness, grabbing a knife from the silverware drawer and cutting your sandwich in half the correct way. You slid off of the stool and took your plate to the coffee table, settling down on top of your duvet nest beside Loki.

He had cut his sandwich the wrong way while you were getting situated, probably from one of his conjured daggers, and a mischievous twinkle glittered in his eyes as he bit into it while maintaining eye contact with you.

You shook your head in over-dramatic disappointment. “See? Heathen.”

Quick as lightning, he snagged the other half of your sandwich off of your plate and took a bite off of one of the corners. He feigned deep thought for a second before putting it back. “It seems your theory is correct.”

A laugh barked out of you, easy and free, and you nudged his arm with your shoulder. You were aiming for his shoulder, but Loki was tall. You decided to finally answer his question after you had eaten a few bites. You shook pills into your hand from your pill container, Sunday PM. “Well, we all know how he loves his nicknames, Rock of Ages, and I’m a spoonie. It’s just one that he’s stuck with more than the others.”

Loki, having eaten his sandwich much quicker than you, leaned back onto your couch, draping an arm behind where you were seated and appearing fully relaxed, excluding the crease of thought between his eyebrows. “What does it mean to be a ‘spoonie’?”

Unable to hold the position any longer, you clutched your plate carefully in one hand and slowly sat back into your pile of duvets and supportive pillows. Loki held his hand out for your plate without comment, and you handed it over so that you could use both hands to get comfortable before retrieving it from him. You were acutely aware of both the small amount of relief the supportive position held and the way his thumb rested against the nape of your neck, brushing your skin just enough to raise goosebumps.

“Well, as you’ve so nicely put it, I’m ‘substandard’. Here on Earth, it’s just called disabled, if they’re going to be nice about it. It’s why I take so many different meds. Anyway, there’s a theory called the ‘Spoon Theory’ that was used to explain how people who identify it have to go about their daily lives.”

You took a beat, gathering your thoughts and taking another bite of your sandwich, watching him as he listened to you. You had his full attention, and it was almost too intense to be the sole focus of his piercing gaze as he waited for you to continue. Clearing your throat, you plowed on, doing your best not to ramble too much, “Everything is harder for me, but you know that. It’s why you brought the books. You figured out that I was going to be exhausted and in more pain from going to that party. The way the spoon theory would phrase that is that I used up spoons from the next day to have more fun that night. It’s easier to explain if I have spoons handy, or something to draw with…”

He huffed in exasperation and held out one elegant hand. Spoons, presumably from your kitchen, flew into his outstretched hand. You only had four, living alone and all, but it would do to prove your point. You took them with a nod of gratitude before pressing on, “So, say I’m having a really terrible pain day and I wake up knowing that I’m not going to have the physical and mental strength to get much done that day. So, I have to decide what is important to ‘spend’ my spoons on and what isn’t.

“Getting out of bed already takes away one spoon.” You place one on his thigh. “Cooking usually is the one thing I can kind of let go, with food delivery and freezer meals, so I can forget that. But then it takes spoons to shower, get ready for the day, change out of my pjs, do any tidying up, etc. If I desperately needed to shower, for instance,” you dropped the rest of your spoons unceremoniously onto the duvet currently cocooning you, “then that’d be all that I really got done for the day. It’s just a way for those not in the disability community to understand how we have to look at life and prioritize what we do each day.”

He was silent for several minutes, frowning in thought.

You left him to it, finishing the rest of your cooling sandwich before leaving the plate in your lap. It wasn’t worth leaning forward and possibly falling on your face just to put it on the ramshackle coffee table.

“What do you do when you cannot finish all of your tasks for the day?” His expression was difficult to read, curiosity and frustration warring on his elegant features.

“Well, I do what I can. And I hope that whatever I can’t get done can either wait until tomorrow or isn’t important.”

He grabbed a book from the impressive stack that he renewed daily on your coffee table, resuming his previous position that anchored his thumb to the nape of your neck. The familiar touch made you shiver, but you couldn’t pinpoint the exact reasons why.

“That will not do. Your fragile mortal body is already delicate enough as it is without you taking proper care of it,” he stated, matter-of-fact, cracking open the book in his deft-fingered hands. “I will be of your assistance when necessary.”

You opened your mouth to say something, then shut it, unable to come up with the words to properly express your confusion at his insistence to help you out. You eventually eeked out: “Why?”

He glanced over as if you were a remedial child in need of education. “Because my time in what Stark generously calls a Tower does not require all my hours.”

God, he was a dick sometimes. “Why me,” you clarified.

A smile touched at his lips. “Because, as I told you at the gala, I know what it is like to appear as everyone on the outside, yet be different on the inside. We are kindred spirits, you and I.”

You snorted. “Sure. We’re practically soulmates. Apart from the whole destroying New York thing,” you deadpanned.

He arched a black-as-sin brow. “As you well know, mortal, I was not myself during that period.”

Your stomach lurched, and guilt ate at you a little, making the sandwich you just finished sit like lead. "I know." Over the last few months, you had learned that while Loki could be an arrogant asshole, a pedant and an egomaniac, he wasn't a destroyer of worlds. "Sorry."

He rolled a shoulder as if this was no big deal. "I have learned a thing or two about perception, Midgardian."

And then he picked up a battered copy of Hamlet and started to read to you as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Maybe your life wasn't perfect. But cocooned in the duvet, your stomach full of grilled cheese, your feet propped on his solid thigh, listening to the cadence of his soothing British drawl, you thought: it's pretty darn close.

[fyeahbecachloe]

the one where beca doesn’t like dogs (3/?)

Beca/Chloe Rating: T Word Count: 1967 Summary:What looked like an emaciated wolf was currently lying on her floor glaring at her. Eyes wide, Beca stood there frozen afraid it would attack her.

OR

Beca doesn’t like dogs but she’s dating a veterinarian so she’s pretty much screwed.

READ ON AO3

True to her word, Chloe did take full responsibility of MJ over the next few weeks. She took him to work every day and brought him back when she was finished. Depending on their schedules, sometimes Beca was home before them and sometimes she came home late to the two of them cuddling on the couch. On the weekends, Chloe would take him to the park or play with him outside. Beca barely had to worry about him.

Except for his fur. Huskies, Beca found out, shed. A lot. Now that MJ’s fur has almost fully grown back and he gained back his weight, he was shedding like crazy. Beca would find tufts of fur EVERYWHERE. She had taken to lint rolling herself every day before leaving work. Chloe, of course, promised she’d sweep and vacuum the house on a daily basis which Beca protested to right away

“You’re my girlfriend, not my maid I can clean up after the giant fur ball. That’s why god invented swiffers.”

It amazed Beca how much fur can accumulate in just one day. MJ looked at her curiously every time she brought out the vacuum. She had thought, like most dogs, he would be scared of it but he just followed her around while she ran it over the few carpeted areas they had in the house. MJ was very curious about the detachable hose.

“Yes, dude, I’m getting rid of all of your fur,” Beca told him as she used the hose extension to vacuum the couch. She playfully aimed it at him and to her surprise; he rolled onto his back presenting his belly. Beca looked around to see if she could get Chloe’s attention from the other room but she was nowhere to be found. “What?” she asked the dog but he just stared at her, upside down, with his tongue sticking out. Beca looked down at the vacuum extension and then started going over his belly with it and pretty much vacuuming him. MJ’s tail started wagging like crazy.

“You’re such a fucking weirdo.” Beca was laughing as she continued to vacuum his belly.

“Are you vacuuming the dog?” Chloe’s amused voice came from the other side of the room.

Beca smiled. “Yeah, sometimes you just gotta go to the source.”

--

“I’m taking tomorrow off. I’m exhausted,” Chloe announced after she finished getting ready for bed. She climbed in next to Beca who had her laptop with her working on some last minute things. MJ was already in his own bed on the floor next to theirs. Beca had given up on the whole “no dogs in the bedroom” rule because it seemed like it was the only thing Chloe said that he refused to follow. It was fighting a losing battle. The only real time they kicked him out was during sex because having a dog in the same room you were having sex in was very very weird.

Beca looked up from work as Chloe cuddled up next to her rubbing their bare legs together. “Perfect timing since I will be working from home tomorrow.” She saved the file she working on and then shut the laptop close. She set it aside on her table and moved closer to Chloe, very aware of the leg that was now moving between hers.

“Yay, I get to spend the whole day bugging you while you work,” Chloe said as she lazily traced her fingers against Beca’s back, lifting her shirt to feel skin. Beca shivered.

“Babe, you’re about to start something you can’t finish.”

Chloe gasped in faux offense. “Who says I won’t finish? Or you won’t?” She grinned and moved her thigh up, pressing against Beca’s center.

Beca sucked in a breath and grabbed a hold of Chloe’s hips to stop the beginnings of a grind. “Chloe, you’re two seconds from falling asleep. Don’t pretend you haven’t fallen asleep in the middle of sex.”

Chloe laughed and removed her leg but pulled Beca closer. “For your information, Beca Mitchell, I fell asleep shortly after sex. Not during. Stop ruining my reputation and spreading false rumors.” She leaned up and pressed a kiss to Beca’s lips and reached over to turn off the lamp. “But yes, I am sleepy, so stop talking, you’re keeping me up.”

“You’re so annoying.” Beca turned around and let Chloe spoon her from behind.  She took Chloe’s hand and put it under shirt and over her stomach.

“Do you need a belly rub, too, Bec?”

“Shut up, oh my god. Go to sleep, you’re keeping the dog up.” And on cue, MJ made an annoyed grunt. “See? Go to sleep, dog!”

Chloe started drawing circles around Beca’s belly button and smiled against her shoulder when she felt the muscles twitch under her finger. “He has a name, you know? How would you feel if I called you ‘woman’ all the time?”

Beca snorted. “You call me that every time I do something you find annoying.” Of course it was always in jest.

“How hard is it to refill the Brita pitcher?”

“Go to sleep, Chloe.”

“You forgot to refill the pitcher again, didn’t you?”

“I’m leaving you.”

Chloe kissed her shoulder. “You’re stuck with me forever.”

--

Beca started her days a lot later when she was working from home. She was awoken up in the most wonderful of ways with Chloe’s head between her legs and bringing her to an orgasm in her waking moments. She was just catching her breath when Chloe replaced her mouth with two fingers and made her come again while smirking at her.

“That’s for being so goddamn annoying last night,” Chloe winked before going to the bathroom.

Beca laughed and looked down to find where Chloe put her shorts and underwear. “Babe, where are my clothes?” The shower turned on.

“You don’t need clothes when you’re about to shower with me!” Beca quickly ran to the bathroom while discarding her last item of clothing. Chloe was already in the spacious shower and she stepped in and was immediately pulled into a kiss under the hot spray.

“Wait,” Beca said pulling back. “Where’s the dog?”

Chloe’s eyes grew comically wide. “Are you seriously thinking about MJ when I’m about to give you your third orgasm before 9 o’clock?” Beca opened her mouth to retort but realized she got nothing. “He’s in the yard, Bec.” Her eyes were twinkling with amusement.

“Oh, right, duh.” She nodded and gestured for Chloe to continue.

Chloe grinned and backed Beca into the shower wall and then sank to her knees. “Hmm,” she mused and lifted Beca’s leg so it was over her shoulder. Beca gripped onto the railing that she may or may not had installed customized for situations like these. She wasn’t keen on finding “sustained fall in shower while having sex” on any hospital discharge papers. Chloe made sure Beca had a proper grip. “I’m trying to figure out when I turned you into a pillow princess. I mean, 3 to 0 really isn’t fair.”

Beca’s snarky retort died on her tongue because Chloe’s was on her clit. God, her girlfriend was annoying.

--

After her very blissful morning, (which she did reciprocate, she was not a pillow princess, thank you very much) Beca was in her in home studio working on one of her many ongoing projects. She preferred working from home because it was more relaxing and her creative juices flowed more. And working in her pajamas was a bonus. Double bonus when Chloe was home with her and her distractions were a welcome.

Beca was approaching 3 hours of nonstop working while Chloe caught up on all her TV shows she didn’t have the time to watch. She didn’t even realize it was nearly lunch time until she saw Chloe in her peripheral leaning against the door of her studio. Beca pulled the headphones down from her ears.

“Hey, babe, what’s up?”

“Well, I was going to make us lunch and  then opened our fridge and pantry and realized we haven’t gone grocery shopping in forever.” Chloe walked into the studio and stood behind Beca’s chair and was already massaging the knots in her neck. Beca let out an appreciative moan. “I’m going to make a grocery store run to pick up essentials for lunch and dinner tonight. Will you be okay with MJ for a couple of hours?” Hearing his name, Beca heard the pitter patter sounds of MJ’s paws against the hardwood floor as he trotted into her studio. A space he knows he’s not allowed in but he sat down next to her chair anyways.

Beca narrowed her eyes at him but he just gave her the same look back. “Yeah, I’m sure I can handle Cujo for a couple of hours. Go get us some sustenance, please.”  She leaned her head against the back of her chair and gave Chloe a goofy upside smile.

Chloe leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Okay, be good.” She leaned down and kissed MJ’s head too before leaving the studio.

Beca frowned as she watched Chloe walk down the hall. “Are you talking to me or the dog?”

“Both!”

MJ barked the same time Beca yelled “Rude!” He followed her to the back door before looking out the front window as Chloe’s car pulled out of the driveway. MJ let out a little whine as the car disappeared down the street. “Dude, she’ll be back. I think you’re becoming a little codependent.” He grunted at her before returning to his tennis ball.

Beca got back into a stride for a good 30 minutes when she felt a weight in her lap. She looked down and saw MJ had placed his head on her lap and looked up at her with what could only be described as puppy eyes.

“What’s up, dude?” She unconsciously scratched the back of his ears the way she’s seen Chloe done a hundred times before. His tail gave a half hearted wag. Beca resumed work and she continued to pet his head but MJ let out a high pitched whine and was still giving her the same look.

“What?” Beca furrowed her eyebrows, not quite sure what to do. “Chloe will be back in a little bit, I promise.” But MJ just made a grumbling noise, sat down, and stared at her. He whined again and then barked. “Dude, what? I don’t speak dog.” MJ almost looked annoyed before he got up again and this time tugged on the bottom of Beca’s pajama pants with his teeth.  He looked at her again and then headed for the door and sat down.

“Do you want me to follow you?” MJ’s tail started to wag when Beca finally got up and he turned around to walk towards the living room with Beca following him.  He led them to the couch and then laid down by it.

“Okay now what?” Beca asked him and then he began to paw under the couch. “Is there something under there?”  Beca knelt down and looked under the couch and laughed. MJ had pushed his tennis ball under the couch and couldn’t reach it. She had to lay completely on her stomach to retrieve it and MJ copied her actions. When she got back up, Beca handed the rescued tennis ball for him to take.

“You must be the dumbest smart dog ever.” MJ barked appreciatively and took the ball from her. “You want to play fetch with that outside?”  But MJ was already waiting by the French doors that led to the backyard.  “I’ll take that as yes.” Beca took the ball from him before opening the door and he ran outside.

“Okay, MJ, go fetch!” And Beca threw the ball across the yard, smiling.

[jmarshv]

This came out longer than I expected and is different from what what you wanted. But they ARE on Tatooine!

This is basically Poe just flirting and Hux being Hux. Takes place sometime after tlj. No spoilers.

-

“You know, you look awfully familiar.”

Poe was slouching over the counter of a bar in Mos Eisley. The place was old. Really old. And dusty. But there wasn’t much else to do while waiting for fuel. He watched a man come in, dressed in all black, prim and proper despite his disheveled hair, a pair of scary looking boots, and a scowl plastered on his face. The guy sat next to him, hunched, and Poe didn’t say anything for a while. But boredom got the better of him eventually.

The guy looked at him with a flinch. Like he was on guard. But his face was so comical in its disgust, Poe couldn’t do much besides stifle a laugh.

Nothing was said at first. They had a sort of stand off, just staring at each other. Then Poe had a mind to wink at him and flash him a smile, and the guy’s expression dropped into something else.

“Your uniform,” Poe nodded to his long overcoat, trying to make conversation. “Looks kinda like what they wear in the First Order. I bet you’re too good for a place like that though, right?”

“What?” the guy finally responded, except now instead of disgust, there was apprehension. He looked Poe up and down like he was ready to run, and Poe was sure he saw him swallow.

“Looks damn good though I gotta say. The boots? The pants? Makes you look intimidating. That’s what you want right?”

“I-I don’t,” he shook his head, pausing to find words, brows together and his forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Who are you? Why are you talking to me?”

“Woah, woah, I’m sorry,” Poe held up his hands in submission, fixing the guy with a disarming smile. “We’re at a bar, buddy, I like how you look, so I told you so.”

This made the guy sit up straight. If Poe didn't know any better, he would say he was offended. He had his head held high like he was above everyone in the bar, better than everyone on the planet, hell, better than everyone in the galaxy even. Something about him told Poe to be wary, scared maybe, but the guy looked like a lost porglet. And he'd be lying if he said he wasn't pretty.

“Are you…” he cocked his head, squinting. “Are you propositioning me?”

Poe shrugged and looking him up and down, making sure the man noticed the movement of his eyes. The other’s blush was blatant and visible, and Poe watched it spread across his unusually light skin. There was even a change in his breathing. And Poe took the opportunity to lick his lips. Red head guy gulped again.

“Only if you want me too,” he winked. “I’m Poe Dameron by the way.” And he held out a hand to shake.

The mood changed, and the man jumped when he learned the other’s name, only to come down from the surprise and stew in a seat of anger.

“Poe Dameron!” he hissed. “You. You were the one who called the bridge. You wanted to speak to me. And then you called me by the wrong name and made me look like a complete fool!”

“General Hugs! I thought I recognized your voice!” Poe held none of the fear the general was hoping for. Instead he held his arms out like he was welcoming an old friend. “Not what I expected, I gotta say,” he raised his brows at the sleek body of the other.

“S-stop looking at me like that!” he smacked away one of his arms. “Why are you here?”

“I could ask you the same question, red.”

Hux grumbled and resumed that ugly sneer from before.

“That’s classified First Order information!” he spat. “Who do you think you are?”

“Captain Poe Dameron. I already said that. But it’s still nice to meet you, General.” He grinned, nodding, and once again held out his hand.

Hux was breathing heavily, back straight and looking back and forth between Poe’s hand and face, like he might burn him if they touched. After a deep exhale, he offered up one of his own hands, glove a scuffed up mess, and took Poe’s.

But Poe didn’t shake it. No, that would be too obvious. Too overdone. Instead, he held the general’s fingers and brought his entire hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand.

Hux did nothing. Couldn’t say anything. There was just a long, drawn out moment where he looked horrified, his mouth hung open in terror, followed by a softening face that considered the situation carefully. Strategizing. Hux didn’t smile. And Poe was pretty sure he wasn’t even capable of it anyway.

“Dameron,” he said, and there was almost a hesitant kind of respect in his tone. The corners of his mouth twitched like he wanted to say something else, but didn’t. He watched Poe’s eyes, switching between his face and his hand that Poe still hand a grip on, finally clearing his throat.

“Don’t think this changes anything,” he pursed his lips, now avoiding Poe’s face, only blinking up at him now and then while he focused on his lips instead. “You’re still a threat and… an irritating nuisance—and I will not hesitate to kill you when I get the chance.”

“Why can’t you kill me now?” Poe ran his thumb over the back of Hux’s palm. The steel gaze the general had on his lips didn’t go unnoticed. Not by a long shot. And Poe gave him a crooked smile as charming as he could possibly be.

Hux choked a little, turning his head but not taking his eyes off Poe. He coughed into his free hand and gave a nervous chuckle.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” he laughed too loud. “Propriety and rules exist for a reason and I have tact. Perhaps you should try it sometime.”

“Fair enough. But, while we’re here…”

He trailed off. Hux made no move to rip his hand away. It remained cradled in Poe’s wandering fingers, Poe using his other hand to trail along the general’s palm. It was oddly sensual, but neither of them spoke. Poe let his unfinished sentence swirl in Hux’s head. The words hung in the air, implying what Hux already knew.

When Poe snuck to the end of his palm, by the edge of the glove, he paused. Hux was watching his hand, Poe’s fingers, and breathing through his nose. Harsh puffs of air. Poe saw how his nostrils flared, but not from anger. Something else. And if the general could let go of his visage for two minutes to act like a normal person, Poe had an inkling he’d be sighing, soft breath and lidded eyes—and he couldn’t help but wonder if Hux had freckles on places besides his face.

“Your face is gorgeous, by the way. Just letting you know.”

That did it. For some reason that did it. And Hux’s mouth opened, just a sliver, and Poe heard the gentle sigh, that really pretty one people did when they gave into their instincts. He blinked at Poe, still quiet, but waited patiently for whatever came next.

With slow, deliberate work of his hand, Poe peeled away the other’s glove. His skin was a shocking contrast to his own; bright white against warm tan, silky smooth on rough calluses. And Poe noticed the general leaning into him. It wasn’t that noticeable. But it was definitely there. He was getting closer to him, probably subconsciously, and Poe made a move to do the same.

“What would you do if I kissed you right now?”

Hux’s eyes shot up to his. Their bodies were less than a couple inches apart. In his eyes Poe saw a lot of things; shock mainly, but also desire, fear and want. He was holding back. This man, Poe should hate him—and hell, maybe he does—but right here, right now, in the dim lighting, surrounded by smoke and noise, a thousand parsecs away from anything, none of it mattered. Because Hux looked good. His body looked good. His face lost that perpetual scowl and was just waiting, curious, and dammit, it looked good.

Punitive measures be damned. He closed the distance between them. It didn’t last long. Just a firm, soft meeting of lips, opening just the slightest. Tongues touched briefly, there was a lack of saliva and anything messy. But Poe pulled Hux’s bottom lip between his teeth, sucking on it. And when he pulled away, letting it pop out of his mouth, Hux looked like he was about to pass out.

Did no one ever touch the guy?

It was fortune that they’d both be here. How it happened, Poe didn’t claim to know. But this Hux guy? Poe liked him, for some reason. And maybe in another lifetime, he’d have him pinned underneath him, letting out whines and gasping for air. Or maybe Poe was feeling adventurous and didn’t care. Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe it could be tonight. Or tomorrow. Maybe it could be the lifetime they were in right now.

AO3

[v-says]

10/16/20

9:50 PM

My head hurts. The last few days have been ridiculously strenuous and I’ve been trying to spend some time decompressing. It’s not working so well, though. I’m not sure why. I went out to dinner with Mom and Dad but other than that, I didn’t really do anything today. I was trying to motivate myself to do some homework but I just... couldn’t. Man, this weekend is gonna be busy.

Not necessarily good busy, but not bad busy either. I’m going to hang out with my friends later tonight. I’ll probably get home late since it’s already almost 10 PM. He’s in the navy and he’s getting deployed in a few weeks, so that sucks. Even though my head hurts so bad I’d rather have the chance to say a proper goodbye. He’s a good friend. All of the friends I made at my first job are good friends, even if a little... weird. I love them all. I’m going to hang out with probably my only remaining girl friend on Sunday, so that’ll be nice. And tomorrow I’m going to spend the day with D. He’s taking me and his sister and her husband to a really nice sushi place. Their udon is fucking unworldly. My tummy is already rumbling for their delicious udon. Honestly though, nothing beats D’s homemade pho. He’s an amazing chef, I wish I were as good as he is in the kitchen. I know he’d appreciate it if I made dinner for him after work every day.

Speaking of work, D’s been working 12-13 hour days almost every day this past week. I tell him I’m worried but he insists he’s doing it for us, which is really sweet. It seems like he’s really coming around to the concept of getting an apartment with me sooner rather than later. Our relationship has involved a lot of compromise, but it’s weird, it doesn’t... feel like compromise. It feels more like... growth? Before I met D, I could never in a million years picture myself giving birth to a child. But now, I’ve pretty much accepted that we’re going to have a family of four. D is counting on a boy and a girl, but... uh, no promises here. He doesn’t seem to fully understand that there’s nothing I can physically do to impact the gender of our child. If we end up with two girls, we end up with two girls. End of story. Originally, he insisted that we keep trying until we get at least one boy and one girl but I was so against the idea that he’s completely dropped it. Compromise? More like growth, LMAO. Personally, I think the concept of “keep trying til we get a boy/girl” is a terrible mentality to have. I mean, why wouldn’t you just be satisfied with two daughters? Or two sons? Why does their gender matter so much? SMH.

I’m gonna try to get my homework done on Sunday or (probably) Monday. I know it’s last minute but it’s not like I have that much to do, anyway. I just have... two video assignments to make up (because I got a fucking ZERO on them when I turned them in. Like sure they weren’t great but I did not deserve a zero. More on that later, perhaps), I need to finish three comic book pages, and I need to tidy up my resume. That’s not so bad, seeing it all written out. I’m sick to bastard death of my video editing class but I’m trying really hard not to stress about it right now because stress is bad for the skin, and my forehead is already covered in zits. I also have one on the side of my nose that I picked at without thinking about it and it turned into a scab. Humiliating! But whatever. That’s what happens when you pick at your skin.

I need a new laptop. This one froze while I was writing this like three fucking times. KMS.

[sidrisa-blog]

Power and Magic

Read it here on AO3

Pairings: Loki x Reader and the lightest Sif X Thor

Chapter: 15/104 Social Call

Warnings: the usual: sex, death, and violence with light smatterings of misogynoir

Summary: The princes come with their exalted Father arriving amidst a hail of pomp and pageantry all parties would rather forgo. This is war, where men die, their blood purchasing land and peace until it's time for more men and more blood. But your mother adheres to the old rules of hearth and hospitality. The Lords of Asgard must be given their due despite the grim business precipitating their arrival. It is too bad they don't deserve it. There is nothing to recommend him, Loki, Prince of Asgard. He is rude and cold and childish. You try to find some merit in him. You find none. Exactly none. But maybe, after trial and tribulation,

You will.

Niti accompanies you. It’s galling. You’re getting better, bit by bit you are, just not fast enough. Dizziness is your most common complaint, weakness a close second. Your strength has improved, walking isn't so harrowing anymore but sudden onset dizziness can still handicap you at a moment’s notice. Niti, for now, will be your crutch--in more ways than one, she's handy enough to keep you upright and remind you of protocol. The result is you, a woman in the prime of her life, hanging onto another like an invalid.

“But what’s worse, hanging on to me, or fainting into a fountain?”

“I’ve never had the opportunity to hang onto you before. How do I know it's not worse than fainting into a fountain?”

Niti laughs and and concedes the point, noting wryly. “Ask any of my girlfriends, they’ll tell you which is worse.”

“That doesn’t answer the…”

Niti laughs harder. “I know!”

The fur mantle keeps the cold at bay but you cinch it around your neck tighter, the low countries get cold but never like this and never for this long. There, summers start in Fourthmonth and last until Ninth. Here, the snows are still melting and afternoon strolls in the gardens can be ruined by sudden snowstorms.

“The clime does not agree with you, does it Princess?”

Niti pulls you up short so you can address your speaker.

She has the bluest eyes sharp enough to cut, intelligence as clear and striking as their color.

Ice blue eyes with ice blonde hair, she observes the customs of the Winter’s End season, dressed in the palest pink silk. If titles were earned on looks alone, she’d be the highest rank here, but she smiles and dips gracefully, looking as though the ground moved to accommodate her whims rather than her own legs moving.

“Highness.” She calls you.

Niti squeezes your arm. “Ylva,” she whispers. “A duchess.”

It takes a few heartbeats to recall the proper style of address, forcing Ylva to wait on your memory to return before she can resume conversation.

“Your Grace.” You say, nodding your head, returning her bow but not as deeply. “And yes, it is quite chilly still.”

“For you, I don't doubt. Lowlanders are summery folk, unsuited to Asgard’s winds.”

At its surface, the statement was correct, but her tone makes you feel odd. Your nerves perhaps, when was the last time you spoke this casually with another lady especially one of such finery?

“It is good to see you up and about, the ladies and were beginning to think you a ghost rather than living flesh. We are all very eager to meet you. None of us have encountered a Lowlander before, and a Princess besides. Will you join me as my guest? I will introduce you to the other ladies.”

Niti squeezes your arm again but keeps quiet.

You thank the Lady Ylva and follow as her willing guest.

**

The women sit in a covered terrace each attended by her own servant making for quite the crowd. While the conversation doesn't stop when you arrive, the tone shifts, excited whispers replacing the soft titter of the gentleborn.

Niti clears her throat comically loud, forcing the ladies to stop chittering about you and recognize that you’re standing right there. They rise to their feet scraping chairs against the flagstones.

A chorus of “Highness” circles the table and you’re finally allowed to sit.

Niti has to abandon you to stand a respectful distance away, close enough to render service, yet far enough away to offer privacy. You feel the loss immediately, you’re on your own now.

Ylva introduces the ladies in order of rank, you hope Niti is paying attention because there is no way you’re going to remember this many names attached to this many titles.

“We are humbled you could join us Princess.” Ylva speaks first and speaks the most, dominating and directing the conversation. She is the highest ranked here next to you, the other girls naturally follow her lead--or do so out of compulsion.

“The pleasure is mine.”

The conversation is a pleasant kind of awkward, that unsteady feeling that accompanies meeting anyone new. The girls talk a bit about themselves, their hobbies, why they’re here. Most are relatives of members of Lord Odin’s cabinet or the companions of Lady Frigga. They have their own lands and holdings left in the care of lesser relations while they participate in the grand social activities of court. This song and dance is familiar, you remember watching your mother and father weave in and out of crowds of noblemen and women when you were younger, hanging onto Hava’s skirts as she introduced you to their friends and courtiers.

“Ladies, can we talk of something else, it seems we have bored the Princess.” Ylva turns to you, indulgent smile lighting her face. “Lady Astrid, I hear your brother has returned from battle.”

The Lady Astrid perks up immediately. “Yes, he has. With nary a scratch or bruise upon him! Mother and I are glad he has returned.”

The ladies offer warm words congratulations, you barely murmur yours. You are glad her family is whole, but are reminded again that yours is not and never will be.

“He tells these harrowing stories about being right in the thick of battle! They frighten me terribly, though I am jealous. He fought with the prince!”

A distinct whistle of appreciation reverberates around you and you too perk up a bit. Glad, at least, for the change of topic. “My brother says the prince was so brave. Slaying the barbarians left and right. I wish I could have seen him.”

“We all do!” Another lady offers.

“Yes!”

“Which one?” You ask and the table quiets, staring at you, waiting for you to continue like they haven’t yet understood the question. “You speak of princes, which one? There are two. Unless there is another prince of whom I am not aware.”

Astrid laughs. “The Princess jokes! How funny!”

You’re sure you haven’t made any jokes.

“Princess,” Lady Astrid dips her head like a mother imparting a lesson to an ignorant child. You stiffen, balling your fists in your lap. “I’m sure you haven’t learned yet being new here, but there’s only one prince ever worth mentioning in polite company and that’s Prince Thor.”

Someone sighs and asks. “I wonder what he’s up to now?”

“Out hunting with Sir Hogun and Volstagg and Fandral and the Lady Sif--and that other one.”

“Ina, you would know his exact whereabouts!”

“I pay that smithy very well to keep me informed.”

“Remind us again, Aarda, why you’re so keen on him?”

“Well have you seen him?”

“I’d like to see more.”

“Ladies he’s more than just a pretty face. He’s gentle and kind and brave. He’s the perfect warrior in every way.”

The ladies talk in circles expounding on the virtues of the elder Prince. It annoys you. You don’t know Thor well enough to make any kind of assumptions of his character but you’re pretty sure he isn’t ‘the Upholder of all Light in the Realm’. Meanwhile the prince you do know, is only mentioned as a foil for his brother. The adjectives they use aren’t very kind, cruel even.

“You all speak as though Prince Loki has none of these qualities.”

“He doesn’t.” One of the women shrugs, her answer believed as immutable fact.

“How would you know?”

“We just know. We’ve always known. He has the look of a snake. And his tongue carries twice the venom. I heard he once made a girl cry just by looking at her.”

“He’s fearsome.”

“And a coward.” Lady Astrid affrims with a solemn nod. “My brother didn’t mention seeing him in the battle at all. Probably hiding somewhere under a rock while Prince Thor and Lord Odin smashed those barbarians to bits singlehandedly!”

You’ve seen his memory of that battle, you saw the blood on him. You watched helplessly as he watched your mother fall. Patience flies from you, as do your manners.

“Prince Loki is no coward! He was in the vanguard with my mother, he watched her die!” You point at Lady Astrid so there would be no mistake about whom you were speaking. “The only soldiers who are cowards are those who come back without a scar!”

You rise too quickly to your feet, over and done with this exercise in futility. You’re glad when the ladies have to rise with you murmuring “Highness” as Lady Astrid remains seated, too shocked to do anything but blubber by a child. You’re glad you’re not obligated to return the address. Niti has your arm the moment you stand, and you’re glad for it, a wave of dizziness nearly knocks you back into your seat. Not the most noble way to punctuate your exit.

“Where to Princess?”

“Anywhere but here.”

**

Niti walks without purpose, there’s really nowhere specifically you want to go, you just need to get away from those women.

“You really made an ass of yourself back there. I’m impressed. I’ve never seen a face on Lady Ylva like that. She usually looks like she’s got Mjolnir so far up her backside lightning might come out of her mouth instead of words.”

Niti laughs and you reluctantly smile. “Ylva was the most tolerable of the bunch.”

“And let me tell you princess, that’s a first. You should call on her tomorrow, so she can apologize to you.”

“Is that really necessary? Like you said, I was the asshole.”

“Yeah, so she has to apologize to you for introducing you into a situation where you had to be an asshole. She’ll also make suggestions on what to do about Lady Astrid.”

You sigh deeply. “I did call her brother a coward.”

“Baselessly too!” Niti boasts. “If you were of equal rank or less and Lady Astrid wasn’t a dull blade in mind and body she might have challenged you to a duel!”

You imagine Astrid opposite you in a dueling ring, brandishing a fearsome dinner fork as a weapon, wearing a silk breastplate and chiffon greaves.

“Oh you laugh but don’t come crying to me when she demands satisfaction!”

“Stop! Stop! It hurts to laugh!”

“It’s Ylva’s fault anyway. Bringing up the war like that.”

“Do you think she did it on purpose to upset me?”

“Maybe not intentionally. But she definitely wanted to orchestrate something where a girl could put her foot in her mouth saying something stupid. Opening your old wounds so she could later offer sympathy and her services. She’s a crafty one that Ylva.”

Niti speaks highly of her, her admiration plain.

“You’re smart Niti, why’d you choose me when you could have had a mistress like Ylva to take you places?”

“Well one: she’s already taken. And two: whose to say I won’t if one changes?”

You appreciate her honesty even though it stings a bit. “I hope to have won you over by then.”

“Keep pissing off the prissy skirts like you are and you will.”

Niti stops paying attention to her feet and you two amble down the marble corridors and gilded halls of the Palace. You stop by the lesson hall, the school day is not yet done but you can peek through the glass doors to see Se’risa sitting right up front, whole body leaning into the man speaking.

You don’t interrupt, you just watch. Se’risa’s handwriting is shaky but her letters are clear. You’re glad her hands don’t have to clean chamber pots anymore, they are far better suited to writing.

You and Niti depart before the instructor can dismiss the children for a break.

Before long you’re outside again, the sun is higher so it’s warmer, you don’t shiver so much as you walk the grounds. You pass couples along the way, making new acquaintances whose names you hope you remember.

Then you hear the sweetest sounds you’ve heard since waking.

“Down boy! Get down! C’mon hee! Hee!”

The man curses, and curses again but the horse keeps neighing. You stop dead to listen with your whole body.

“Niti.”

“You got it.”

She leads you to the source of the noise, the horse corral where a man is trying desperately to gain a hold of an intractable horse.

“You don’t understand! They’ll melt your hooves for jam if you don’t calm yourself!”

“Edvard! What about our coin? You bet us 100 silver you could tame this beast. Even Lord Thor won’t have anything to do with him!”

“I’m trying! The bastard just won’t heel!”

The horse bit and reared, tossing its rust red head this way and that, swerving away whenever the man was within striking distance with his reins. He was toying with the man. The horse, so inclined, could easily trample him, crush both knees with a well placed kick. This was a diversion, a distraction from the daily torment of waiting for his mistress.

You.

Things you need to know about me: I require an animal companion for all my heroines. I’d prefer a dog in most situations, but a warhorse...yeaaaah that’s better.

Also Cephalus = Bucephalus for Alexander the Great’s famous horse because I love Alexander the Great’s big gay (possibly bisexual) ass

[smorebin]

Strategic Relationships| MYG ft JJK

OMG my first Min Yoongi story!!!! I love it so much so I hope you do too!

Genre:Angst/Fluff

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: implied sexual assault (DO NOT READ IF BOTHERED)

“He’s arriving tomorrow, so please, I beg of you, act like a proper lady.” Your mother followed you around the large house, you simply continued walked, noticing the small details of the mansion that you had memorized since you were able to walk on your own.

“I just don’t understand!” You cried, quite exasperated with the whole ordeal. “It’s 2017, Mom! Who has arranged marriages anymore?” You stopped walked and turned around to face her.

“I’ve told you so many times now. It’s not an arranged marriage, it’s a STRATEGIC marriage dear. There IS a difference. This will help better your future! You can live comfortably, you have anything your heart desires. Not to mention political power over all of Korea in a few short years.” She smiled, sickeningly sweet.

“All my heart desires to be able to be with the man I love. I don’t care about pricey jewels or expensive yachts. Not to mention political power, we all know it’s the politicians that screws us over in the end, so why would I want to become the wife of such a nauseating man.”

“You’re meeting him and that is the end of this conversation young lady.” She spat and turned on her pointed heel.

“The end of this conversation is the beginning of a revolt, a riot, and a war.” You mumbled, not to excited to the road that appeared in front of you.

To say the least, you aren’t anything like your family. Even if you are the only heir to Choi Productions. Being the largest film company in all of Southeast Asia, with the best directors included, it was common for the founding family to be practically considered royalty. Which is exactly what you felt like right now. Flashback to 1397, they want their marriage arrangements back. Well, here is a simple introduction to yourself. Why are you introducing myself to myself? Because I am your diary so shut the fuck up and write because I can’t write myself.

Okay for a SIMPLE introduction this time. Your name is Y/N and you are the grand daughter to the founder of Choi Production, or lesser known as Choi Shin-young. His name fit the bill for his legacy- powerful, true, and forever. You just don’t know if it fits yours. Besides being known as the granddaughter of Choi Shin-young, heir to Choi Productions, you are also the black sheep of the family. You’d rather wear ripped jeans and comic tees instead of lace sleeves and thin pumps. Your mother blames your father, your father blames your grandfather, and your grandfather absolutely adores you, as you often reminded him of your grandmother. Hence the reason you are the heir.

To be truthfully honest, you adored the company, you loved directing and editing, you had a knack for it. But you hated the pressure your family put behind you to do it. You remember the day when your grandfather sat you down after a family dinner and told you that he wished for you to inherit the company when his time came.

~Flashback~

“ Y/N … sit down here dear.” Your grandfather called to you from the resting room, by the time you reached the room from the kitchen, he had already lit a cigar and was lazing around on the leather sofa. You sat next to him on the floral patterned rocker, it looked so out of place in amidst of the expensive furniture, but your late grandmother refused to let go of the chair as her husband acquired his wealth, saying it was the one thing that would keep him grounded to reality instead of letting his inflated ego fly him into the sky, once she was gone. And that was exactly what it did. As your father tried to pressure him to rid the house of her presence after her passing, he refused to let go of anything that held her, including the old floral chair.

“Ne, Abeoji?” You asked.

“Now I’ve thought long and hard about this. You are now a grown woman who has more than shown me that you have the intelligence and passion that I have been looking for in an heir for this company.” He stated, setting his cigar in the ashtray on the glass table.

“Abeoji? What about my father? He always wanted to take over the company, he’s studied so hard to prove that he is capable of doing so.” You questioned, wanting to change his mind. You weren’t ready for this. You might have the passion but not the drive. You loved the manual side of the company, the directing, the design, the filming, the post-production editing. Not the endless papers and bills, countless interviews and favors. Infinite collaboration requests and resumes. The neverending portfolios and stock analysis, the ceaseless knocking on doors of famous actors and spokes models. It sounded like your worse nightmare.

“Now, Y/N , I’ve made up my mind, I don’t see the passion in your father that I see in you. If he wished to take over the company once I was gone, he would’ve peaked an interest at a much younger age. Instead he was flirting with girls and knocking down doors.” He sat up. “This is final, I’ve already had my will rewritten, I expect that you don’t disappoint me in the future, granddaughter.”

~End of Flashback~

The only thing that he didn’t tell you was that you must be married before you could accept the company. Which was perfect for you, now you just had to make sure that you never got married. But when your mother found out, she was insistent on a ‘strategic marriage’ as she liked to call it. Her whole explanation of it was bullshit that went in one ear and out the other, no processing time included.

It was obvious from the way she acted that she married into wealth, not that she was born into it. To be honest, she wouldn’t have married into the Choi family if it wasn’t for you. Your mother was just another fuck buddy, for lack of better words, to your father, until they learned that she had become pregnant, which forced your father to marry her before you were born. Luckily, they didn’t hate each other’s guts and eventually fell in love after getting married.

Your mother wanted you to be even better off than she turned out to be. As it to be married before a child was born, a preferably to a man with more money, which was hard to find in the country of South Korea. Unsurprisingly, your mother was able to find someone with a son just slightly older than you, and with more money to his name, and with an interest in you. A real keeper.

Today was the day that you had to meet the wonderful Jeon Enterprises son. Even his name exuded confidence, legitimately meaning ‘strong government’. Just his name pissed you off and you haven’t even met him yet. Your mother had woken you up early and threw open your closet, throwing out even black or even remotely dark piece of clothing you had, which was pretty much your entire wardrobe. What was left was a hot pink cocktail dress, a light pink skirt and crop top set, bright yellow culottes and a yellow top, white trousers and a floral printed plum blouse. You are just silently begging that she didn’t choose white trousers. You would never be able to keep them clean, plus you looked horrible in white. But for some reason luck didn’t seem to be on your side, that was exactly what she picked up.

“I still can’t believe all the black you have in your closet, Y/N. I thought I raised you to be a colorful young lady. Not a dark mess.” She shook her head and bent down to pick up the heels that went with the outfit. “At least in this you will look like a young lady that is worth marrying.”

“Mom!” You cried, and sat up from the bed. “You could have at least made me wear the light pink outfit instead of the white one. I hate wearing white, plus I look great in that outfit.”

“That outfit is not for a young lady who is the heir to one of the largest companies in Asia to be wearing. You look like a prostitute standing on the side of the street in that. It’s way to provocative.” Oh, did I mention your mother refuses to let you wear anything that could possibly attract another male sexually to you before you are married. Which erased half of your closet from a night out.

“Fine…” You gave up trying to fight your way out of wearing the outfit and climbed out of bed.

“I expect that you are dressed and ready with the hour because Jungkook will be arriving right around that time.” She said and turned on her heel and walked out the door, shutting it behind her. You quickly got up and brushed your hair and did your make up and put on the white pants and floral shirt, after slipping on the heels you looked at yourself in the mirror, doing a once over. Deeming yourself presentable you walked down the stairs into the foyer where your saw your mother talking with woman that seemed to be around her age and a young man wearing a plum button-up shirt, rolled up at the sleeves with white slacks. That woman planned this. You gave a glance between your own outfit and his own, as he did. Only instead of sneering like you did, he gave a sly smirk.

Once you reached the party, your mother stopped talking to the woman and turned to you. “Jungkook dear, this is my daughter, Y/N.” She gestured between the two of you. He bowed to you and you did the same back to him. “Ohhh, look at you two! You just met and your outfits are already matching!” She cooed, looking at you. Jungkook smiled sweetly at her but you could see through her smile and knew that she planned the whole thing out.

“Ahhhh! I just have to get a picture of my baby and this beautiful girl before they go out for the day.” Out for the day!?!?!  The lady who you could only assume was Jungkook’s mother at this point, rushed and pushed you together in front of the stairs and backed up. After taking out her phone she called out to Jungkook. “Awww honey, put your arm around her, don’t be so shy! Fiancés shouldn’t be that far apart.” He quickly wrapped his arm around your side, pulling you to his waist. He smiled brightly and after the first photo he looked back down at you and gave you puppy dog eyes, you only hoped they were for the camera.

After the photos were taken your parents quickly rushed you both out of the house and you saw a new Porsche sitting out in the roundabout driveway.

“Wanna go for a ride?” He gave a you a small smirk.

“Unless you wouldn’t tell my mom I snuck away, I guess I have no choice do I?”

“You’re feisty, I like it.” He commented again, opening the door for you.

“Just to those that piss me off.” You gave him a smile as you sat down in the seat.  He ran around to the other side of the car and jumped in, after he turn the ignition on, he sped off down the street.

~A Week Later~

Jungkook? He’s an okay guy. Yeah, yeah, sure, whatever you say girl. Well, it was true, he was a good guy, just no a guy you found any interest in. Thankfully, your parents weren’t forcing you to be with him all the time. Once a week at a minimum. Which was why you were going to take a chance and go to a underground concert today.

After dressing up in ripped jeans, a blue contoured top, and a red leather jacket with your ankle boots, you snuck out and walked to the side of the road where your friend picked you up.

It was a relatively quick drive to the nightclub and upon pulling up, the bodyguards already let you in the building. As soon as you walked in, a young man with bleached hair and black clothing came on stage.

“How we doing tonight, Daegu!” He yelled into the mic. The crowd obviously already knew him, but he was a new face to you. They all yelled back at him and he let a smile slip past his lips. Wow, he’s cute when he smiles. After he introduced himself, a rapper you were familiar with “#GUN” came out on stage with him. Let’s just say the new kid could definitely rap. He even got Gun on a couple of the bars.

After the concert, you walked backstage to go find Gun. Just as you turned the corner you felt a pressure on your back as arms wrapped themselves around your neck. Next to come was a sloppy kiss to your cheek which you quickly wiped off. “You really are disgusting Gunhee, how does Naehee even deal with you?” You unwrapped his arms from around your neck and twisted around. “On another note! YOU WERE FUCKING AMAZING OUT THERE! I HAVE THE COOLEST BEST FRIEND EVER!” You yelled, drawing some attention but soon everyone went back to what they were doing.

“Really? I’m surprised, it looked like you were more focused of Agust than you were on me.” He looked down at you with a playful glare. Before you could respond, Naehee bounced over to the corner that and Gunhee had managed to fit yourselves into. Once she arrived, Gunhee opened his arm and Naehee slid under it so his arm rested around her shoulders.

“Ohhhh, you’re right, she was looking at Agust the entire concert, I even heard her say he did better than you.” She giggled and wiggled her eyebrows at you. When you glared at her, she giggled again and ducked into Gun’s chest.

“Well do you want to meet him?” He offered, glancing down at Naehee who now had her face buried in his chest before looking back you expectantly.

“Really?” You gave a smirk.

“Really.” He turned to Nahee, “Give me a second babe, I’m just gonna introduce her to Agust then we can get out of here and go somewhere special.” He kissed the top of her head and unraveled himself from her, pushing your back to lead you farther back stage. When he reached the sound and graphic station, a young man dressed in all black, his bleached hair peaking out underneath his turned up hoodie. He was sipping out of a water bottle while he mindlessly scrolled through his phone. When he heard your approaching footsteps he set down his phone and gave a cautious glance upwards. He first spotted Gun then peered around his shoulder to see you.

“Man, come here and meet my friend. She totally dropped me for you tonight so you can say you have a new fan.” Gun called out and the man set down his water bottle as well and walked his way over to the both of you.

“Hey. I saw you in the crowd earlier.” The man gave a slight bow and stuck out his hand for you to shake. After reaching back and shaking his hand, Gunhee was quick to make his escape saying how well you two were getting along already.

“So you noticed me earlier?” You peaked an eyebrow in interest. He gave a small chuckle and nodded.

“It’s not every day you see a girl with a Gucci jacket walk into an underground rap joint.” He sassed back. “Though I will admit, you have a lot better taste in music than what I would expect from a woman like you.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment then.” You chuckled as well, and he motioned for you two to walk together after picking up his bag and phone.

“You’re not bringing your water with you? You look pretty dehydrated after all that jumping you did on stage.” You glanced back at the water that was still sitting on the ground, next to his previous resting place.

“Why would I need a water bottle when I have a pretty lady here that I was planning to take to drinks?” He answered back with a small twinkle in his eyes.

“And what makes you think I would even accept such a situation.” You shot back. “ You know, I am an engaged woman.” You held up your hand, showing off the rather expensive ring that Jungkook have given to you the prior week.

“An engaged woman wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this if she didn’t have plans on rebelling.” He raised his eyebrows in response.

“You’re right? Know a local dive? I’m dying for a couple shots of soju right now.” You smiled.

“Right up the street.” He smirked and tugged out his arm for you to link yours through. You both had quickly made your way to the bar, and pushed past the drunken bodies until you had found two seats next to each other which was also within earshot of the bartender.

Conversation flowed easily and soon you were on the topic of your life. It was easy to open up to him, he genuinely acted like he was listening, plus the couple shots of hard liquor coursing through your veins at this point didn’t make you hesitate.

“You mentioned you were engaged earlier?” The mysterious twinkling in his eyes made their return.

“More like imprisoned instead of engaged.” You frowned, rather cutely in his mind.

“And what does that mean? I thought marriage was supposed to be the best thing to happen in a person’s life.” He leaned onto his hand, his elbow resting on the table separating the two of you.

“No, marriage between you and the love of your life is supposed to the best thing. Not between you and person your family is forcing you to marry solely because of money.” You drawled on, slowly swaying back and forth, feeling the effects of the alcohol start to take you over.

“You already seem like a girl with a trust fund big enough to buy Korea so what does your marriage have to do with more money?”

“It’s called STRATEGIC MARRIAGE.” You mocked your mother’s accent horribly. “When you have to be married to inherit the largest company in Southeast Asia, you apparently have to marry into more money than your own. Or so they say.” You frowned more.

“It really seems like you are against this whole marriage thing then.” He chuckled, leaning back in his chair.

“Is it that obvious.” You shot back. “Because I thought I wasn’t making myself clear enough.” Your eyes traveled down to your hands, and the light reflecting off the black diamond caught your eye. She even had to tell him my taste in jewelry, I hate this stupid ring. You tried to pull the ring off your finger, twisting it back and forth in a manner to remove it. When it didn’t budge, you buried your face into your hands. “I hate this stupid ring, I hate this stupid marriage, I hate this stupid inheritance, I hate this company, I hate that man, I hate everything that has to do with the money connected to him or I, I just hate it all.” You cried, letting all the frustration you had felt for the last 3 weeks, in front of a man you just met no less. Then something happened that threw you off.

Yoongi, as he had revealed his real name to you earlier in the night, grabbed your hand that held the large diamond ring on it. He took a wet napkin and wrapped it around your ring finger and quickly pulled the ring off, letting it fall to the table. “Then when you are with me, don’t think about it all. Don’t think about the money or the pain or the looming dates everyone else reminds you of. Think about the moments we are enjoying right now, think about the people that you adore surrounding you, and more importantly, think about me.”  He let his hands drop, holding yours between his. It was true you both just met a few hours ago, but it was easy to tell that while you both came from separate worlds, you understood each other on a different level.

And that’s what it became. Instead of sneaking out at night to go see Gunhee perform, you snuck out to see Yoongi do the same. Instead of third wheeling along with GunNae as you liked to call them. It was now the four of you heading out into the night, never much drinking involved as you later learned that Yoongi never associated himself with that kind of lifestyle. It was more late night carnivals and street food dinners on the sidewalk. But while you noticed yourself spending more time with Yoongi, it also meant more time with Jungkook.

“Babe!” You called before jumping on Yoongi’s back after he had gotten on stage. He laughing and quickly wrapped his arms around your legs to hold you up. Just then, Gun walked off stage and saw you resting your head on Yoongi’s shoulder.

“And to think that you used to come here to root me on, now you are here to support your boyfriend dissing your best friend.” He shook his head and continued chuckling at the both of you when Naehee snuck up on him and did the same thing.

“And to think that I had to deal with your two cheesy asses on a daily basis.” You shot back at him and he craned his neck to give her a kiss.

“That’s my girl.” Yoongi laughing, walking towards the cooler, throwing it open with his foot. “Okay, you may be my girl but you need to jump down unless you want your boyfriend and best friend dying of dehydration when it could’ve been prevented.” He laughed.

You quickly jumped down and he grabbed two water bottles, throwing one to Gun and opened one for himself. You wrapped your arms around his waist and leaned into the crevice between his shoulder blades, when he leaned back into your touch, you wrapped your arms tighter around him. Whispering into his shoulder blades you asked if he was ready to leave, which he answered with a silent nod. He turned around in your grip so you were no longer pressed into his back but into his side, with his arm resting against your back and his hand slid into your back pocket.

“Hey guys, we are gonna skip the encore, I have a night planned for us, so we will see you tomorrow.” Yoongi directed to GunNae. After they both said their goodbyes he guided you to the exit door, but when he opened it, he realized it was pouring out and that you both forgot your umbrellas. “I’ll go grab my car, you just stay here.” He said and removed his hand from your pocket and wriggled free of your grasp.

“It’s okay, we can just make a run for it.” You laughed, getting ready to step out of the enclosed space and into the pouring rain.

“No it’s not okay. You can’t risk catching a cold, because then they’ll know you are out when you say that you are with HIM. I can risk catching a cold but you can’t.” He kissed the top of your head, signaling that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, before looking around the deserted street and running into the storm. Losing the heat that he radiated, you wrapped your arms around yourself and leaned against the wall. Just as you had situated yourself between the corner of two walls, a rougher looking man walked up to you. You backed up as far as you could into the wall as he kept pushing you farther into it.

He ran a stubby finger down your cheek and roughly grabbed your chin, pulling it to him. “Pretty little aristocrats..” So he recognized you. “Such as yourself are supposed to stay across the other side of the highway. We don’t like shiny objects on this side of town.” He gestured to the necklace on your neck, which wasn’t that attention drawing at all. It was a small metal compass with a diamond set at each of the cardinal points. Yoongi and you had a running joke that became a strong symbol in your relationship. His nickname since before you officially started dating was “Diamond” and he always joked that everywhere he turned his diamond was there as well. “They tend to be too… distracting.” The man finished his sentence, sneering evilly, as if he knew the meaning of the necklace. Just as he was backing you up even further into the wall, Yoongi ran up to see the incident.

It was evident the man didn’t have much of a strength to back is evil presence as Yoongi easily yanked him off of you and threw him to the ground, not without landing a few punches to his jaw and a couple kicks to his abdomen.

Watching the scene, you sunk to the ground, holding you cheek where he had gripped it. After Yoongi was sure the man was down to the ground for a while, he ran and crouched down in front of you and slowly pulled your hand away to see the reddening fingerprints he left behind. “I’m so sorry. I-I-I forgot my keys and didn’t realize it until I reached the car. I-I should’ve noticed sooner, then you wouldn’t be hurt. I should’ve seen the guy hiding in the shadows. I should’ve taken you with me when you offered. I-” You cut him off, wrapping your arms around him. Shocked, he stayed still for a second before he wrapped his arms around you aswell, pulling you closer to his chest. “I’m so sorry.” He whispered into your neck, just then you felt tears soaking through your shirt and landing on your bare skin.

“Why are you crying? I’m fine Yoongi.” You asked, lifting his head and wiping the tears from off his cheeks. He just stared back at you with pitiful eyes that were begging to be hidden from the world.

“This is all my fault. What if I was a second longer? What would have happened? What if he actually hurt you?” He let the tears fall freely. “I can’t lose you. I’ve only known you for a few months, but the more I look back on them, the more I realize I haven’t smiled as much as I have since then. I realize that I’d rather wake up to see you laying next to me than wake up to an empty room. I realize that I’d rather write cheesy lyrics that couldn’t even begin to explain my feelings rather than songs that talk about the wrongs and the rights. I realize that everything I do now is because it could affect you in some way.” He shivered, the tears finally ceasing their paltry cascade down his tanned face; only leaving stains of empty river beds to grace his cheeks. “I realize that I love you Y/N, and that I can’t imagine a day where I don’t see you in some way.” He rested on his knees, limply, no longer having the energy to hold himself up.

“I realized that I love you too, Yoongi. I don’t love anyone else but you.” You pulled him back into a hug, him still lying limply in your arms. Shivering in the rain, and too tired to move, you slowly rocked him and yourself back and forth until Gunhee ran outside, probably from hearing the commotion from Yoongi knocking the man to the ground.

“Are you okay?” He rushed to your side, eyeing you over for scrapes, when his eyes landed on the red marks the man left you on your cheek. He silently pointed down to Yoongi as he was still in a state of emotional shock.

“Of course not.” You shook your head, rather upset that Gun would assume that, and gestured over the the unconscious man lying on the asphalt, stomach up. He looked over and scowled, walking over he shook the man awake and pinned him to the wall, jabbing his finger multiple times into his chest while shouting something you couldn’t hear over the sound of your own heightened heart beat along with the rain hitting the metal of cars and glass of windows. Naehee also made her way out and rushed over to you. Yoongi had finally came out of shock and stood up with the help of both you and Naehee. After Gun had given his fair round of punches to the man, he walked back over and helped you both back inside. Luckily, the small venue also acted as a recording studio that had a lounging area for when artists were working over night.

You quickly situated Yoongi on the couch, him both physically and mentally drained. Then you started rushing around looking for a first aid kit, noticing he had scraped his knees from when he fell to them, seeing if you were okay. As you started frantically searching Naehee reappeared and forced you to sit down as well.

Once you were sitting next to Yoongi, Naehee and Gun both sat on the divergent coffee table. She started to speak first. “What happened? Everything seemed perfect when you were leaving the venue.”

Speaking up, you straightened yourself out. “I was waiting for Yoongi to come back with the car and this man forced me back into the wall, he grabbed my chin was getting in my face. It was nothing too serious but it seemed like it could’ve gone farther if someone didn’t show up. Yoongi eventually came back because he forgot the keys and pulled the guy off of me.” You said, trying to explain the situation as simply as possible.

“That doesn’t explain why you were both in drenched in the rain, just sitting there.” Gun cut in, it was safe to say he wasn’t good about the whole concept of sugar coating.

“You could say we had an emotional roller coaster following that.” You reached up to your neck, attempting to rub the stiffness away. Feeling around, you didn’t feel the cold metal of the simple chain that you never took off. “My-my necklace!” You cried. Before you could start freaking out, Yoongi held up his hand which held the dangling steel piece of jewelry from it.

“I couldn’t let my diamond loser her way could I?” He gave a weak smile, “I saw it on the the ground before I kinda drained myself of feeling. I guess the bastard ripped it off with him as I pulled him away from you.” He pulled your palm under his and let the necklace fall back into it. He closed your palm and held it with both of his. “I would never let you lose it.”

“Oh my gosh, the necklace. Yoongi, oh Yoongi, this is my fault.” You buried your head into you hands, making a realization.

“Babe, no this wasn’t, it’s my fault for not being there with you.” He bent down to eye level with you.

“No, the necklace, the man referenced it like he knew the meaning behind it. Yoongi, I think he has someone watching us.” You looked up, cautiously glancing around the room.

“Don’t push conclusions like that, how could anyone possibly know the meaning behind such a necklace.

“He knew I was high society Yoongi. He knew I didn’t live anywhere near here. He knew my style. Hell, he knew that I was here with you.” You looked him directly in the eye. “I’m telling you Yoongi, he’s never been the type to do this, but I don’t doubt it, not for a second.”

Gunhee and Naehee both quickly cut in. “Who are you talking about?”

Turning to Gun you dug the black diamond engagement ring out of your pocket. “You know my family Gun, you know my inheritance, you know what I have to do to receive it.” You glared at the emerald cut ring in your hand. “But what you didn’t know is that my family has already planned it all out for me. A looming date in the inevitable future.” He gingerly picked up the pricey jewel out of your hand, and held it in his palm.

“Are they really forcing you, Y/N?” He looked up with saddened eyes.

“Did you expect any less?” You gave him an equally distraught smile.

“We won’t let it happen.” Naehee stood up. “This isn’t love, this is a monarchy that feeds on your displeasure and we won’t let the system win.” she looked down at you, coming from a similar situation herself, well off in society, but not a devastating plot line such as yours. “And we do hate letting the system win don’t we.”

“I don’t know if I can trick it this time Naehee.” You grabbed the ring back and shoved it into your pocket. “It’s a battle I don’t think I have the weapons to win.” You leaned against Yoongi who gave a sad smile, and kissed the top of your head to comfort you, knowing what was in store for the people in the room.

~ Back in Seoul~

On the phone, Jungkook was walking around his skyrise apartment. “He BEAT you to the ground?” He yelled through the phone, seething. “I had one job and you got beat by a punk rapper?”

“I-I’m sorry,sir.” A gruff voice apologized. “I won’t let it happen again.”

“Fuck a next time, I asked for a hit man and I got a dog who has alot more bark than bite. The best thing your good for is a fucking joke.” He hung up the phone and threw it at the nearest wall. Running his fingers through his hair, he glared out the ceiling-to-floor window. “And fuck you Min Yoongi, you may think you have the upper hand but I won’t let a damn person stop me from owning that old man’s business after he’s in the grave.”

This will be my last post for a couple days, because I am going to be gone on vacation. (Not like anyone will notice, I’m so inactive lol.) But this is just a heads up. Love you all my lovelies!

[thecomicsnexus]

Seduction Of The Gun

BATMAN: SEDUCTION OF THE GUN FEBRUARY 1993 BY JOHN OSTRANDER, VINCE GIARRANO AND STEVE MATTSSON

SYNOPSIS

Batman helps the GCPD bust a series of illegal deals between gangs between two states where the currencies in use are drugs and guns. To do this, Batman will need to disguise as a “straw man” providing the guns to local band NZN, while Tim Drake goes to a high school protecting the daughter of the “straw man”.

But things go south when the straw man is discovered under police custody and all hell breaks loose.

CONTEXT

INTERVIEW WITH JOHN OSTRANDER, FROM COMICMIX

July 22, 2012. After the shootings in Colorado during the premiere of Dark Knight Rises.

In the wake of the terrible shootings in Aurora CO during the midnight showing of The Dark Night Rises, I was contacted by television station WRTV in Richmond VA to comment about my Batman anti-gun violence book, Batman: Seduction of the Gun, that was first published in 1993.

The stand-alone Batman story was done in response to the killing of John Reisenbach, the son of a Warner’s executive. DC wanted to respond at the time and it was felt that Batman was the logical choice for the story as his own parents were victims of gun violence and had a well-known aversion of handguns.

Denny O’Neil was the Batman editor back then and offered me the writing job, knowing I had once worked with an anti-gun organization. Denny emphasized that we couldn’t just preach; first and foremost we had to tell a good story. We could make our points but they had to be part of the story. I had no problem with that; it’s one of the lessons I learned from studying Shakespeare – theme should be hardwired into the plot.

I took what I knew and then researched more. One of the things that I learned was about “straw men sales.” If you lived in a state or municipality that had strict laws about the sales of firearms, you could get around it by having someone in another state buy the gun(s) for you, even in bulk. Gangs in New York City were doing that down in Virginia. I used that as a small section of the overall story, but it resonated. Virginia’s then-governor L. Douglas Wilder used the comic to help get his modest but controversial gun control law passed – buyers could purchase one gun a month. You could have belonged to a “Gun of the Month Club” and still been perfectly legal.

I was and am proud of the book. I’ve been asked recently if I thought that DC might or should reprint it in light of the events in Colorado. I’ve thought hard on it and I’ve come to my own conclusions.

I want to say, first of all, that I have no idea whether DC has any plans to re-issue Seduction of the Gun. They haven’t said and I haven’t asked or suggested it. I don’t think they will re-issue it, however, and perhaps they shouldn’t. There are reasons why not.

First of all, it would be months before it would get out there. It would have to be solicited in the Diamond Catalog and that’s planned way ahead. I don’t know as it would appear before next year and one could question the relevance.

Second, even if the book was re-published tomorrow, this is an election year and everything gets politicized. Putting Seduction of the Gun out there now would be characterized as a political statement and I don’t think it’s one either DC or Warners wants to make. The Dark Knight Rises is already connected with those terrible murders and I can’t see Warners wanting to keep reminding people of that. They want to sell tickets. It’s hard enough these days to get people to come to the movie theater instead of just waiting to see it at home. This wouldn’t help.

Third, what audience would the book reach? There’s no stomach, no political will these days, for a further conversation about gun control or banning guns. None. Sales of guns in Colorado spiked following the tragedy. Furthermore, in the comics community, any time you do a story about an issue these days a certain very vocal percentage of the comics’ blog-o-sphere dismisses it automatically as an “Afternoon Special.”

Finally, and I don’t want to seem too bleak here, but what good would it really do? Yes, Governor Wilder used it at the time to pass his gun control legislation but that law was repealed not long ago. You can once again buy as many guns as you want in Virginia. I heard one leader in the VA government claim the law wasn’t really needed now – that they had background checks and such to prevent bad things from happening. Tell that to the victims of James Holmes. He was able to legally get all the guns he wanted.

Let me be clear: I’m not in favor of banning guns and never have been. At heart, the country is not prepared to go for that and I think you would create the same sort of situation that the government did when it banned alcohol, that it does now in banning marijuana – people wouldn’t/don’t obey resulting in a large sub-rosa underground market that would make plenty of money for Organized Crime. There are also plenty of people with a legitimate reason for guns and rifles – hunters, for one example, and on farms and ranches there’s a need for pest control. That’s always been true.

On the other hand, what need does any private citizen have for an AK-47 or similar attack rifle? Explain it to me, please, someone. It might be argued that people have a perfect right to own them and its guaranteed by the Constitution. I’ve read somewhere that your Constitutional right to self-expression ends where your fist hits my face.

I’d say the same thing applies to a bullet.

When I wrote the story, I thought it was important for the reader to have characters who were sympathetic who became victims of gun violence. I wanted the reader to feel for them, to identify with them, so they would feel some sense of loss at their deaths. You can’t argue with a closed mind but you might be able to reach people by engaging their hearts. In the Aurora shootings, there are stories of people dying to protect ones they loved, shielding them with their own bodies. There was the single father who was out with his kids for the day. There were the very young children who were shot or killed. If these true stories don’t engage the heart, I don’t know what my fictional story will do.

I would love if Seduction of the Gun became anachronistic; my fear is that it will remain relevant. The cycle will resume – more gun shootings, more hand wringing, more passionate defense of perceived Constitutional rights, and nothing more will happen. That’s the life we live.

REVIEW

When I first read this story I was around 12, this was the first comic-book I read where Tim Drake was wearing the Robin costume. Gun control is not even a discussion in my home (third world) country. Criminals do have guns, but the situation has never been as complicated as in the United States. 

This is not about mass shootings at all. Back in 1993, mass shootings weren’t that common. The problem was more about gun violence in common, and it seemed to struck on those with less privileges more. You can watch “Dangerous minds” as a good example of what the problem was. Of course, as I said, I wasn’t born or raised in the USA, so I can only connect with the situations depicted in this comic.

After all these years, the statements made in this comic are still valid. Every now and then there will be monologues with useful information, but it is in the context of the story, it doesn’t go out of the blue to explain it and most importantly, it doesn’t preach on you.

Because this is a very complicated conversation to have in the United States (as it is specified in their Constitutional rights), Ostrander relies on something different (as he is not asking for the banning of guns). He says here that there is no law that can fix this problem. The human heart or mind need to open first to give up the guns. Guns are not the solution. This sounds simplistic, but it’s how it works in any other country in the world. We can access guns (with proper paperwork), but we know that using a gun has usually bad consequences for all the involved. And I am not going to have a gun around just in case. This is not the zombie apocalypse. So, yeah, it is a constitutional right for Americans, it doesn’t mean they actually NEED semi-automatic guns around. And this all may seem like a very intellectual conversation until someone innocent dies because of a poor decision somewhere. And that is the point of the whole thing. It’s not about laws, it’s not about rights, it’s not about self-defense. This is about victims. And I think that is where Ostrander nailed it. This comic wouldn’t be possible without the many different experiences of those kids in high school. They all have different stories about being victims of guns. About growing up in an environment where you can die at any time. To me, this feels like a continuation of the cold war state of mind. You can die any time, but the enemy is no longer on the other side of the world.

And then there is the gun manufacturer. That guy is not exactly a villain, but his decision to neglect certain truth in order to make more money made him one of the bad guys of this story. Of course the obvious bad guys are the NZN gang. Their motivations are not very clear out of context, you actually need to do some research to understand them.

Now, going to the story itself. There are many plot threads in this story and they all majestically explode in the climax (as most stories should). You have Lisa carrying a gun, making you wonder what she is going to use it for, you have Tim Drake trying to protect her, and you wonder if he will be able to save her. You have Batman trying to bust the NZN gang, Lasker trying to survive the deal with Gordon. There are so many things that are “about to explode” since before we started reading, and when it does is amazingly written.

Now, some may complain that Batman shouldn’t need this much help to bust a small gang. I don’t think that’s the point. First of all, he is helping the GCPD, as these criminals do not last long in jail (thanks to the gang’s lawyer). Also, Batman in 1993 wasn’t exactly bullet proof (it was more recently that Batman started wearing mythical armor against everything). And because this case involves both drugs and guns, I can imagine the FBI was involved. I do think that the gang is quite small and it really shouldn’t have been this hard. But they are very well armed.

Should this be a Batman story? Well he is another victim of a crime involving guns. And there is something Batman says here that really resonates:

“Guns don’t kill people”, some will tell you; “People kill people”. But I knew my father and I later met the man who killed him and I’ll tell you something. He never would have been able to kill my father without a gun.

Man, that was a powerful statement. In a nutshell... guns gave cowards an excuse to commit crimes.

Vince Giarrano has a very unique style, which I normally don’t enjoy. In this case in particular it looks good. The expressions look desperate and there are very close shots to eyes and faces. Very relate able emotions for the readers.

If you wonder about the organization profits went to, it ‘s called The John Reisenbach Foundation and it still exists. 

In the end, this is a very specific tale for the nineties. Problems with guns have escalated since then, affecting even more innocent people. One thing seems to be true about this story. We may never solve the problem if we don’t look at the victims of these crimes.

I give the special a score of 10

[talesfromtherift]

A Day Off For Malak

Malak scratched his head as he looked down at the empty crate. He frowned and circled the crate another time or two. He even nudged it with his foot to confirm that the crate was possibly an illusion. He left the store room at the back of his shop and returned momentarily with a broom and began to poke at the crate, poke by poke sliding the crate across the floor. Dropping the broom he squatted down next to it, peering down closer at the emptiness that the crate embodied. Giving a final scoff at the sheer laziness of the crate he stood and walked into the store room itself and looked around. The process and the system was simple. It had stood a solid policy for Ages. Malak, always one to argue with a good policy, and perhaps even yell in the general direction of a bad one, had made his peace with this policy a long time ago. He walks down the crowded shelves, stretching up, dozens of feet into the air. Ages of various items, lost to history but not forgotten, stood on those shelves as he walked down the aisles between them. He found an old ball sticking out conspicuously from a shelf and immediately picked it up and started bouncing it in time with each footstep. "This doesn't make up for THAT" he says, gesturing in the direction of the empty crate. Plog, Plog, Plog follows the sound of each footstep and the accompanying echo as the sound of the ball comes back to greet him. He walks further. He know exactly where he's going and he scans the shelves as he makes his way to the marvelous miracle at the center of the store room. He pauses at an intersection between sections of shelves and he hangs his head and shakes it. He throws the ball at the end of a shelf at a poster seemingly taped in place. The ball whips back on the rebound, catching him in the head and knocking him off his feet onto the floor, a small bit of dust kicked up in his landing. "You really think that's funny?" He calls out to seemingly no one in particular. The Poster depicted a harried cartoon cat hanging onto a bookshelf, surrounded by the words 'Hang in there! There's always tomorrow!' in a fanciful comic font. He stood up and dusted himself off. He casually scanned around for where the ball had disappeared to. He had words for his small rubber attacker and they weren't kind. Giving up on his search he decided to turn a corner and try down another aisle. The crate couldn't be empty. It had never been empty before in all the time he'd been the shopkeeper. That was the rule. He goes to the stockroom and items would be there to stock for the day. He stocks those items and then people buy them. "That's the way this works!", he calls out again. He finds an old rapier and doing his best Edmond Dantes thrusts and ripostes, tossing out a hearty "HA!" every now and then. He grins and sets the sword back onto another shelf knowing that it'd be in it's proper place most likely before he made his way back to the front. He resumes his stalking towards the end. What could have been minutes or hours pass as he continues walking. Time doesn't have much to say about this part of the store room and the path has slowly become darkened. The physical shelves start to fade from view, replaced by the darkness that creeps in. It's partially for effect but mostly to keep people from wandering further who shouldn't be here. Several more steps, or dozens more and it comes into view. The heart of the store room, the densely contained Singularity at the heart of the store. He smiles at the bright white light that radiates only a few inches from the containment field. Wonderful technology from the cradle of creation housing the universe's largest collection of items in one place. He circles the sphere, leaning in to inspect the surface. He flicks it with his finger and turns his head to hear the sound better. It makes absolutely no sound and he seems entirely satisfied with the results. He begins the walk back, finding the ball in his travels as his foot nudges it. He bends to pick it up and continue. Plog, plog, plog goes the ball as he walks back. Somewhere in the distance the sound of Concorde, Lancelot's squire from Monty Python and the Holy Grail declare, "Message for you Sir!" moments before a paper airplane comes sailing into view. He snatches it out of the air, crushing it in his fist. "What cute bit of nonsense is this? I'm still mad at you! You know what you did!" He grudgingly un-crumples the airplane and finds a note written in incredibly flowery script inside. "Dear Myrios, I've taken the liberty of putting the stock out for today. I know you don't sleep but I thought you could go out and do something. See some things for me. Bring me back some candy floss. I'll watch the shop today. Have a day off, Amanda." His irritation deflated almost instantly and he grinned a little bit down at the note, feeling bad for having handled it so roughly. He turns back around in the direction of the Singularity and says begrudgingly, "You're off the hook this time, but I'm keeping my eye on you!" The rest of the day was his.