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the1975attheirverybest · 10 months

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Hello I wanted to talk to you about something. Would like to hear your opinion on it because I really respect it. So on Twitter Trumanblack was trening lately and I saw people being mad that truman Black came back.

Here's couple of tweets, to show you the perspective:

,He is escaping the reality through this character. Being sincere and open is the way to live life not hiding behing fictional characters. He needs to grow up and realize where his priorities are.

Ofc, we do not know him. His choice, his life.

what the fuck happened matty. I don't understand what you're doing right now. should have left Truman in the trash. I don't get it.

This. It seems he was used to dealing with difficult emotions through avoiding them in stage character (he admitted to this in an interview recently) & he wanted to ditch the character & embrace the emotions/be sincere things maybe got too raw & real so he is back in charakter

I'm sorry this message is so long. I'm just thinking about it all. Do you think 'matty' is gone and he will be acting and all that in the upcoming tour? Cause I wouldnt like it and it won't be good for him too :/

Again sorry this is so long

No, I mean, this is an interesting topic that I think we should 100% get into to "warm up" for the tour. I bet we'll have even more to say once we start getting content from the first new shows in September. (omg not too far away now aaaahhhh), so everyone feel free to chime in, but basically, here is how I think about it ( this is probs gonna be long. apologies in advance. im gonna add a "keep reading" so i dont destroy y'all feeds).

The first thing we need to remember is that Matty's "Truman Black" persona pre-dates the ATVB tour. He's always been "Truman Black." He's always been a jokester, a meme lord, a bit chaotic, a bit sexy, a pastiche or caricature of himself.

The question, then, is why? Why does he do this?

For several reasons. And he's been nothing but honest with us about them.

From as early on as 23 years old, when ST first started blowing up and the boys cultivated a following, Matty became acutely aware of the spotlight and the way that fans idealized and idolized him. Sexually desired him, saw him as this rockstar figure. And it made him uncomfortable because, well, no real human being could live up to such a fantasy, right? That's really what the song "Love Me" is about. He experienced this during album 1 and instantly wrote about it for album 2. like thats how strongly he felt it. He's more eloquent about it than I can ever be, so I'm going to link you to his explanation of "Love Me."

so, as he's pointing out in his explanation, he plays this kinda ridiculous character to "subvert" expectations. right? even in the mv, he has cardboard cut outs of sex symbols and heart throbs like Harry Styles etc. and he takes his shirt off and stands next to them and makes out with them and all that. Usually, the normal rockstar-fan relationship is that we project our fantasy upon the rockstar and the rockstar accepts it obligingly. But Matty's going "well this is really kinda silly, and it makes me feel sooo disconnected from myself if i turn into this person everyone thinks i am, so what am i gonna do? oh I'll just lean into the silliness." so if he can't do the "fake authenticity" of the cliched rockstar, hes gonna do a very authentic fakeness of being loud, and silly goofy funny messy larger than life, etc.

He explains it here (I've cued it up to the right moment in the video). He's right, if you're a stranger and you know nothing about him and you see him behaving in a Truman-black-esque way, you'd think "wow what an arrogant piece of shit this dude is." BUT if you realize that he's like "i KNOW that you all think of me this way. And YOU (the fans) know that I know that you think that way." we become in on the joke.

You know what im gonna say here. Postmodernism. LMAO. No, but for real. Postmodern art naturally has this "meta" habit. It's art that knows itself as art. It's aware that it's not real. Like movies that are constantly referring to themselves as movies. breaking the experience of illusion for you by constantly reminding you that what you are watching has been filmed and edited. it's not real life. Thats what Matty does with the "rockstar persona" constantly reminding you "it's not real. im just a character made up in all our heads. I'm actually a normal human being but my job is kinda fuckin mental."

So, I think those 4 points, from VERRRYYY early in Matty's career are the genesis of Truman Black. Thats what "Truman Black" is based on.

You could ask, well, if Matty has been this way from the very beginning how come it's such a problem now? how come this whole thing is a new issue??

I think its the perfect storm of this year.

The ATVB show was designed to push the blurry lines between Matty Healy/ Truman Black to their very limits cuz they added extra layers of meta-theatricality to an already meta situation haha. He plays himself in the couch scene, and the raw meat scene, but he's also kind of playing a symbolic version of himself that's supposed to apply to a lot of straight men, but then the show is also about the lines between his personal and his public lives.

Then he goes and does the Truman Black rockstar shit in the second half of the show. So, the tour really could've been called "Matty Healy: At His Very Truman Black-esque" and it would have been accurate. Like he took this concept and stretched it to see how far it could take him.

Then of course you have the podcast thing, the taylor swift thing, the twitter cancelation cycles, etc etc etc.

There were so many new eyes on him. and so much out of context (remember, meta-theatricality needs context. needs the audience to be in on the joke. we have to know 'oh hes making fun of himself being a rockstar') cuz if we don't have the context he really comes off as a guy who's in love with himself and his rockstar status haha.

Now that alllll of this background is out of the way, lets discuss the questions that you've brought up.

Is he Matty or is he Truman Black?

I think lots of people didn't notice that when he threw out the lab coat that was labeled "truman black" in the video, he wasn't serious. he instantly starts doing the robot dance, flipping the camera off with his finger, acting disruptive by riding the trolley thingy. All Truman Black behavior: mischief, breaking rules, etc. so it was a "meta" joke. he tossed the character then acted like the character. a contradiction. ironic. Truman Black's never been gone! he and Matty are intertwined necessarily. you can't separate one from the other.

Is he gonna be acting at all in S...ATVB?

Yes. He will. He's working with Brad Troemel whose sense of humor is very close to Matty's and who loves irony and postmodernism.

Does he use Truman Black to "hide from difficult situations" or to "run from his emotions" or whatever that tweet was saying? no. He uses it to deliver social critique. About masculinity being ridiculous, about our relationship to artists and the fantasy of perfection in Rockstar cliches, about performative wokeness.

Those are the very same beliefs that Matty Healy believes in. hes always criticizing these things in interviews and speeches and stuff. So, no, hes not hiding behind the character to disassociate he IS the same guy, just a slightly less dramatized and exaggerated version.Thats why he doesn't completely turn it on or off at any time. Thats why it's not that he was willing to stop it for a relationship and then start it again when it didn't work out. Thats not how Matty operates at allll.

He didn't throw out his belief that performative wokeness is harmful and stupid, he didn't throw out his belief that leftist masculinity is confusing, he didn't change who he is at his very core just to be mr nice guy, or to be sincere, or to get his dick sucked off by Taylor Swift, or whatever these people think is the reason. He's always been this way; he very likely will always be this way. Thats just how he makes art and how he thinks about the world.

He's always BEEN open to embracing emotions and being sincere. "I love you, don't you mind?" "we're only human we're just like you man" "I'll quote on the road like a twat," "im petrified of being alone, its pathetic," "im just pissed off because you pied me off after your show," "you pick a fight and i'll define it" "i said its cool i was messing but its true," "pretend that i know what it is (i wasn't listening)" "sorry that I quite like seeing myself on the news. im sorry that im someone that i wish i could change, but ive always been the same."

would an emotionally stunted anti-sincerity guy write ANY OF THESE LYRICS? idk, you tell me.

#matty healy #truman black

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ankhisms · 11 months

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thought a lot about art today as i mentioned earlier.. this will be very jumbled rambling but i shall now expand

after my mom and i got groceries today we stopped at this building that was hosting an art showing of a local art group, my mom wanted to go because she recently sort of reconnected with a lady she went to college with and this womans paintings were in the art showing so she wanted to see. we both ended up not being very impressed with the majority of the work at the showing, the lady who my mom knew probably had the paintings that i liked the most even without knowing beforehand that it was her. i always try to be very fair when it comes to art and im of the mind that even if i dont like a certain style or a certain piece of art that doesnt make it bad or devoid of meaning and doesnt mean its not meaningful and good to someone else, and i think art is something that every person is capable of doing in some fashion no matter your skill levels or capabilities theres so many ways to create art and thats what makes art so beautiful and amazing and deeply human. i really am aware that in the past ive been surrounded by very unhealthy and toxic mindsets when its come to art and its ended up hurting me and my growth as an artist and im still unlearning and working through allowing myself to be messy and make "bad" art.

so with that being said at the same time ive had this weird feeling that im not entirely comfortable with where like.. i looked at a lot of the paintings that were supposed to be realistic landscapes or still life and thought "i could paint this better". and i dont like having that thought. it feels petty and mean spirited. i dont want to be someone who thinks theyre better than others, and honestly my thoughts about myself and my creative work are usually the complete opposite. but for some context all of the women artists in this show were 60-70 years old and almost all of them had some kind of art degree, ranging from bachelors to masters degrees in art and several of them are art professors or teachers. one of them specifically whos paintings did not impress me is a painting teacher at my old college. all of them are clearly coming from wealthier backgrounds than me and my family and i should note that all of them are white, there were no women of color having their work showcased in this.

and it just feels very strange because its like i dont like having the thought "i could do a better painting than this" but at the same time... these ladies all have had so many more opportunities than me and my mom as artists and its like. from looking at the paintings of the one painting professors i felt almost relieved that i didnt take art classes at college when before i had felt kind of sad that i didnt have time in my schedule to take any art classes, because like it was very clear looking at these paintings that this lady doesnt have very basic art theory stuff in mind that i have taught myself with no real art schooling.

but then again i circle back into thinking about how i dont think people should have to have any real technical training in order to do art and people certainly dont have to go to school in art to be an artist yknow as i said before i think every person is capable of creating things and that art is a deeply human thing that is within each of us

i think its just weird because i know how privledged these women are, moreso than my mother and i, and they all are so much older than me and are supposed to be professional artists and yet its like you havent even done really basic stuff where your still life and your landscape look worse than the paintings i was doing in highschool. part of me feels like im just being bitter and maybe i am. i genuinely think my mother is an amazing artist thats not just me being biased because im her child ive talked before about my complex relationship with my mother but she genuinely is skilled and dedicated to her craft she works her ass off to have our family just scrape by and she works on her art whenever she has a little bit of time and the pieces she does are so beautiful and breath taking. but she was talking about how we dont have the money to properly frame any of her work and real frames like the ones in that showing cost a lot of money and part of me just has this anger inside me like. why do these rich ladies with their mediocre paintings get to be in galleries and be art teachers when my mom and her beautiful artwork doesnt stand a chance of ever getting in a gallery. and then i start thinking of all the amazing artists i know or follow online and how many of them are just struggling to stay alive and get their basic needs met and i get even angrier.

so yeah i dont really know if im contridicting myself by feeling that art should be accessible to everyone and that everyone is capable of doing art and wanting to encourage artists at all levels and not be an asshole needlessly to artists but at the same time. i was not impressed and felt bitter i guess. because of the rich ladies paintings. then again these ladies are calling themselves professionals and putting their work in galleries so i guess its not the same as just like seeing art online like i guess you have to expect people to critique you if youre calling yourself an art professional and having your work be displayed. anyway thanks if you read this love you

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misschifuyu · 3 years

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howdy 🥰 i reaaally like your writing style and the way you depict characters 🤌

can i request styling Baji, Chifuyu and Mitsuya's hair pleaase ? 🥺

thank you! i hope you have a GREAT day!! 💖

- hello there babes ! thank you so much omgg, really ♡ and I hope you’re having a wonderful day yourself, here’s your request bby !!

Baji, Chifuyu and Mitsuya getting their hair styled by their s/o

genre: fluff

warnings: none

Baji

as said in the shower headcanons, I believe that baji takes pretty good care of his hair. it's very soft to the touch, and the slight wave to his locks always made him look as if he spent hours styling it

realistically - and this you would find out after he spent a night over at yours - his hair will go that way with a simple brush through, nothing more, nothing less

you hadn't believed it at first, but upon watching him do so a few times, you came to the conclusion that he was gifted with perfect hair by the gods themselves

it would be a weekend that you'd ask him if you could play with his hair, seeing as he didn't have any plans until the evening

he'd comply happily, and patiently sit down in front of your bathroom mirror, waiting for you to start on whatever ideas you had stored away in that head of yours

of course, you'd start off with his signature ponytail

you had to hold back a gawk as the hair was easily collected into your hands, allowing you to slip the hair band on with ease

where had this guy even got his hair routine from ?

all this did was boost your excitement to see what other styles you could get his hair into

baji had to take a few silent seconds when you pulled his hair into two pigtails, right at the top of his head

you thought he looked splendid, but he, on the other hand, was about to regret letting you near his locks. nevertheless, he let you continue, slipping the hair out of the tight style

next were two braids. at first, you didn't think much of it: he'd look like a cute school girl, and you'd for sure had to try and sneak a picture of that if he let you

but, as you tied the second one with the little band and flipped them forwards, you could almost see the hairs on the back of his neck stand up

"I look like that haitani bastard, y/n, what the hell!"

after realising what you had done, you couldn't hold back a few laughs as he fumbled around, trying to undo the neatly folded pieces of hair

he wasn't best pleased, but was impressed by how - if a certain someone didn't sport them all the time - he'd actually pull them off

last, but certainly not least, you wanted to try a little something out with his hair that you had seen a few other guys with long-ish hair wander around with

parting the locks just above his ear, you pulled the top layer up into a bun, tying it loosely with the hair band

you made sure not to make it so tight that it would make him look almost bald on the top of his head by giving it a little volume

at this last style - the notorious man bun - baji sent a look to the mirror that made you confirm that he quite liked it

turning his head around to the sides, he looked at the bun you had pull together just a little below the top of his head

"you know...this one ain't too bad"

clasping your hands together in joy, you told him that it was a pretty easy style to do, and it would mean he could keep his hair out of his face without having to do a full-on ponytail

giving you a face of approval, he happily left your little hairdresser session, not even bothering to ask if you were actually done

you didn't mind though. in fact, you were looking forward to see what the others thought of your grand creation on your boyfriend's hair

Chifuyu

funnily enough, chifuyu does actually try and keep his hair in a good shape. he's tried silk pillowcases, deep conditioners and even treatments that he'd frequently steal from your place

he'd always bring the bottles back, though, so not to worry

it was the reason why he was happy to let you play with his hair one morning that he hadn't much else to do

he stole your hair products, so he guessed it was only fair to give his hair up for a quick experiment from your behalf

like baji, you'd sit chifuyu in his bathroom, just in case something went horribly wrong and you needed to wash out his hair in the shower

knowing you were only working with a top - although considerably thick - layer of his hair, you had taken out your smallest hairbands

you had frequently seen him with his hair pulled up by his bangs, as he'd usually pull it up into that style whenever he came over to your place

he deemed it much more comfortable than having hair on your face when trying to relax

instead, you jumped right into parting his hair into two sections, forming a straight line down the middle of his head

he looked a little strange with a prominent split like that, making him look like something out of the olden times, so you quickly went in with the bands to try and make his concerned stare go away

granted, it did, but only to be replaced by widened eyes as he stared at the two, small buns you had managed to tie up at the sides of his head

"i..."

"you look like peke j now!"

at your comment, he whipped his head around to look at you, stood behind him as you marvelled at the creation

it seemed that the black cat had heard his name being called out, appearing at the bathroom door in an instant

the two exchanged looks with each other, silently, for a good minute or so

"do i, peke?"

you had to admit that chifuyu was very close with his cat, so much so you were pretty sure they actually had conversations through brainwaves, because the small animal gave a quick meow as an answer

when you eventually got him back in front of the mirror, you started racking your brains on what else you could do with the bundle of bleached, blonde hair

an idea came up, but you weren't too sure how it would play out on his head

nevertheless, you took a risk and started parting his hair in different sections

even chifuyu was curious to see what you were doing. all he could tell was that you seemed to be having a little struggle with it

and the result wasn't much better

having attempted to tie his hair into a short braid, you ended up noticing that not all his hair strands were the same length, ending up in what looked to be more like a bundle of messy hair, single strands sticking up in all directions

"what's...that supposed to be, y/n?"

after struggling to give a straight explanation, the two of you burst out into a fit of laughter

surely enough, the style had gone a little off track, but you couldn't deny how amusing your boyfriend looked with it on top of his head

Mitsuya

now, mitsuya doesn't really have much hair on his head

this is mainly due to the fact that he used to have his sides shaved, much like draken, so it would take him a little tweaking here and there to be able to get an even haircut all around

he doesn't really mind, though. it's a simple hairstyle, and he really had enough work with his sisters' hair that he didn't need another head to style every morning

this wouldn't stop you from running your hands through it, though, and wondering what you could do with it. surely there could be at least a little style to do with it

after a good ten minutes of thinking, you jolted up from your previous position, laying on his chest as the two of you had been watching the tv

with only a minimal explanation, you dragged him to your bathroom, sitting him down on a stool before the mirror

through the reflective surface, mitsuya could see you fumbling around in the drawers just behind him, just before whipping out a box, a triumphant smile on your face

when you placed the mysterious container on the sink, he automatically knew where you were going with this, and he was curious to see how you'd do it

you know those small, colourful butterfly clips that are all the rage now?

well, you had a whole bunch of them, and you were determined to make his hair look like whole colony of little butterflies

the first bunch that you clipped on were pretty randomly placed, but as his hair started to get filled up, you brought out whatever artistic side you had in you to try and turn it into art

mitsuya watched you try and place the last few left, looking around his own head to see where the next one could be placed

"look, you can put one here"

he has a very good eye when it comes to styling pretty much anything, so, of course, he'd lend a hand when you were finishing up with your creation

gleefully, you followed his instructions, and after fifteen minutes of decorating his grey hair, you finally smiled at him through the mirror

"what do you think?"

squinting his eyes as though evaluating your work, he quickly followed with a convinced nod

"im sure to become toman's image if I start wearing these all the time, that's for sure"

you giggled at his comment, and asked if it was okay to take a picture of him to be able to show his sisters later on. he happily complied, and he actually seemed quite content with what you had done with his hair

he had never imagined to wear so many clips at once

but, be aware...as soon as they're off, he's going to want to do either the same or maybe even more to your hair

you managed to keep him sat for one more style, though; one that you were sure would give you enough time to escape before he actually fixed it up

combing his hair back, you spread a considerable amount of gel on his hair, making it stick down to his hair. unsurprisingly, mitsuya gave you questionable looks as you flattened his poor hair down

the result was a very slick looking boyfriend, and you couldn't help but jokingly telling him he should wear it like that all the time

however, he was not about to go around looking like he had just come out of grease

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers baji #baji keisuke #tokyo revengers chifuyu #chifuyu matsuno #tokyo revengers mitsuya #takashi mitsuya #fluff #pls this was so fun to write omg

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kaepop-trash · 3 years

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IM SHOOK? SHAKEN? CHANGED??:&:9 PUSH AND PULL IS SO GOOD??:&:@; AAAA. I LOVE YOUR WORK.. LITERALLY OBSESSED ... i was wondering if it had a part 2 BUT THE CLIFF HANGER .. GOD INSANITY.. UR SUCH A GOOD WRITER AAAAA

There was a time when I had considered writing another part for it, but truly there was just one scene I really wanted to write. When I saw this, I felt compelled to write it. Consider it an apology for the cliff hanger I left the fic on. Not that this is any better.

I was intrigued by this dynamic when I wrote this fic and I continue to be even now. So consider this more self-gratification than anything else. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it.

Tw: unhealthy relationship dynamic, hints of obsession and violence if you squint.

This was strange. She was allowed to think that. The restaurant was a good one, she was dressed as well as she always was.

Kim Doyoung was in a white shirt and dark jeans. His eyes were focused on the menu in his hand, brows stitch together in concentration. The other hand ran through his hair, an honest effort to push it out of his face. But it was long and fell over his eyes just as soon as he let it go, the only difference being a few strands that stuck up.

She looked down at her fingers, nails now cleaned of the blood from his scalp. He had very soft hair too, she could remember the feel of it against her palm. She could remember the other parts too.

"Have you decided what you want?" His voice made her look up. He was watching her with careful calculation, the gaze of a panther assessing his prey. He was a fool to think she wasn't herself a predator.

"Sure." She slapped the menu close, the sound sudden and loud.

He just nodded, "Okay." His eyes coloured with amusement. She clenched her fist tight, impatient and irritated. "Are you usually this quiet?" He sat back in his seat.

"I speak when I want to, Mr. Kim." Her voice was curt.

He gave her a heinous smirk, "I had my tongue in your cunt, (Y/N). You can call me Doyoung." He reached for his glass of water.

His words made her shift in her chair. Her body reacting against her will was what made the last thread of courtesy snap.

"Other people have done more than that. Physical intimacy isn't grounds for familiarity, not with me." She settled back into her chair. When his jaw flexed, she smiled. At least now they were both annoyed.

"What is grounds for familiarity with you?" His voice was sharper, gaze narrower.

"Why do you care, Mr. Kim?" She snapped. "I'm not interested in being familiar with you."

"Why not?" He furrowed his brows.

"I'm not interested in being familiar with anyone." It was the first honest thing she'd spoken in a while.

"Scared?" He looked intrigued.

"Indifferent." Her frown twisted further.

He hummed, considering her words. "I could make a compelling case."

"It would be a wasted effort. I'm sure you'll find someone more suited to your demands elsewhere." She reached for her glass of water, confused and displeased by the way this was going.

Yet a part of her clawed with intrigue, wanting to know why he was seemingly undeterred. It stopped her from walking out the door, "Can we order?" She questioned. He gave her an unbothered smile, nodding in answer. She wanted to pry open his skull if it told her what he was thinking.

"I don't understand why you're being so persistent. I'm not trying to be coy, I'm not interested in anything beyond sex." She told him once the waiter left with their orders.

"We can have sex." He said it like it was a consolation prize, one he only considered in hindsight.

She crossed her arms over her chest, "What do you want, Doyoung?"

He licked his lips, eyes grazing the skin over the low neckline of her dress. "I started a painting the night I first met you. I haven't painted anything in three years." His eyes glazed over at that, clearly not present at the table anymore. "The second time I met you, the image became clearer, I could picture the colours of it." His eyes focused again, honing in on her. Her stomach flipped. "Last night I thought of a different painting I will paint after this." He gave her a look of conviction, "I must get to know you better." It wasn't a question.

"I'm not keen on being used." She brushed it off.

"Being somebody's muse is a privilege, (Y/N)." His tone flares with offense, "It's being immortalised in memory. I want to capture you in between my brushes and commit you to canvas. I want to make you art." He frowned at her, confused by the rejection.

"Privilege?" She laughed, the sound light and melodious. "It sounds to me like I'm the one doing you a favour. It's your privilege, Mr. Kim." She laughed a little more.

"I don't care what you think." His words didn't match the look on his face, "I haven't had inspiration in years. I'm losing my touch. If I don't create, I cease to be." Anger seeped into his eyes, burning bright red.

She sat back in her chair, "What do I get in return?" She couldn't believe that she was actually considering it.

"What do you want, (Y/N)? Other than an artist's devotion."

She scoffed at his words, "Let me display your art. Anywhere, anytime. If you want to use me, I want to be the only person who gets to use your paintings." She saw the gears grinding in his head at her words.

While it would be a good deal to have, a part of her was sure he'd never agree to it. She knew his reputation. Kim Doyoung did not like sharing what was his.

"Fine." It was his lack of hesitation that caught her off-guard. “But I have a single condition instead. It’s not up for argument.”

She nodded, the possibility of having the exclusive right to display the art of one of the most coveted artists alive worth anything he could demand. He smiled like he was aware of that.

“I want you to myself. No other people.” His eyes bore into her, his gaze the most intense thing about his presence. She clenched her fist so tight that her nails dug into the skin, her palm stinging.

She wanted to slap him.

The demand was a clear sign of control over her. She knew artists, knew the extent of their obsessions. She also knew they tended to fade fast.

“Alright, Doyoung.” She bit her lip. “Have your way with me.” Despite herself, she felt her chest stir at her own words.

He flicked the light on, the large empty space illuminated with harsh white light. She looked around, the studio mostly empty save for a single canvas that rested against the wall. The smell of paint thinner in the air told her that he had been at it recently. Doyoung stood by the door as she walked towards the piece, the click of her heels echoing in the space.

The canvas was a messy blend of colours: red, orange and white. In the centre of ot sat the outline of a couch. “This is what you made?” She questioned, the perceptive eye of someone acquainted with art observing every detail.

“Don’t like it?” He spoke from across the room.

She focused on the blend of colours; despite the bold mix of red and orange, it was the white strokes that felt aggressive. “It’s confusing.” She shifted her weight between her feet.

She heard his footsteps approach her, “Have you ever felt rage, (Y/N)? Blinding rage that you cannot control? Only channel?” His words bounced off the walls.

“I’m not sure what I did to deserve your rage.” Her voice was softer.

“You seduced me, (Y/N).” His footsteps stopped short of her heel. “You were using every dirty trick one could do it. And you were so blatant about it.” He groaned.

Her lips tugged, “I’m known to go after what I like in the moment.” She swallowed.

“You’re shameless.” He spat the word like an insult. She clenched her jaw, “And it makes me furious that I can’t stop thinking about you.” There was a crack in his calm voice, it made her breath falter for a second.

“You aren’t the first." She scoffed, "You don’t have to be hard on yourself, I know what I’m doing. Your reaction is to be expected.” She tried to keep her voice level, not giving him the priviledge of seeing her own rage. Rage was an admittance of effect and she would not let him see his effect on her.

She gasped when his finger brushed up her thigh. “You don’t know anything about me." He mumbled, still maintaining the last few inches of distance. "I don’t play games, I don’t collect conquests.”

She laughed, her head falling back. He took a step closer, pushing her head to the side to brush his lips over her neck. “I know people, Doyoung. I especially know men. You want to believe you’re complex,” He bit down on the smooth skin, she moaned. “But lust is never complicated. It’s deceptively simple. You’re currently playing a game with me, one you want to win. You just don’t know it, which is your loss because you don’t have a prize in mind.” He licked the skin he just ruined, purring into her throat. He bit down the same place again, harder. She whimpered.

“I know my prize.” His nose brushed up her jaw, his breath heating her skin.

“I’m not a trophy to be acquired.” She took a step back, pressing into his chest.

Doyoung sighed, hand reaching around and tugging on her waist, “Who said I was talking about you?”

She clenched her jaw. “What is it you hope to win then?” His hand brushed up and grabbed her jaw, tilting her head back further.

“Let me show you.” His lips brushed against her cheeks. He gathered her dress in his hands, hitching it higher. “Lift your arms.” He whispered. When she did, he pulled the material off.

His fingers made quick work of the rest of her garments. Once she was completely bare, he turned her around. His smile was deceptively gentle, “Do you enjoy being a whore, (Y/N)?” He took a step back, looking her over with detached scrutiny.

“Very much so.” She stepped out of her underwear. When he looked up with a sharp gaze, it was her turn to give him a sweet smile.

“Will you enjoy being my whore?” He brushed his index finger on his lips. Soft, pretty lips that she made a note to destroy.

“That is to be seen.” She breathed out.

He smiled wide, pointing behind him. “Sit on that sheet.”

She gave him a skeptical look. When he added no further explanation, she did what she was told. She walked up to the large white cloth that lay flat on the floor, ready for whatever he had planned. She bent over, deliberately slow, and took her heels off. Walking over to the centre of the sheet and sitting down, bringing her knees up to her chest. She sat patiently.

“Such a pretty picture you make.” He hummed, walking over to a table littered with paint and brushes. He picked up a few bottles, coming up to stand in front of her. Her heart beat so fast with anticipation that she was certain it was echoing against the walls.

He kneeled in front of her, “Give me your palms.” His eyes stayed on her face, his voice still dispassionate. She lifted her hands and laid them out for him. When he looked down at them, she glanced at his features. Without his dark gaze, his face looked almost delicate. She felt thick liquid on her palm, looking down to see him squeeze blue and green paint on each palm.

He looked up when he finished, “Lust isn’t simple. It’s like being on fire one second and being drowned the next. Put your hands behind you and lean back.” She took in an unsteady breath, sitting back.

The paint squished between her palm when she pressed them on the sheet, coming out from between her fingers. He sat back, unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes didn’t leave hers the entire time.

“Which one of us will drown?” She breathed out, words mixed with soft pants.

He unbuckled his belt, smirking when she squeezed her legs. “That is to be seen.” He repeated her own words back, grabbing her knees to open her legs again. He stood up, pushing his jeans off. Once he did, he squeezed the green paint onto his knees. Her breathing was ragged now, bouncing off the walls and filling the space with the admittance of her eagerness.

He walked around to her back, leaning down. “Sit up.” His voice was lower, and to her victorious realisation, afflicted. When she did, his knees pressed into the small of her back, paint rubbing against her skin. She couldn’t explain why, but the rudimentary action made her moan. He brushed her hair up, tying it up on her head with a tie she didn’t know he had. Everything felt meticulously planned.

He squeezed more paint onto her spine, rubbing it around with precise fingers. He remained unnervingly silent, getting up and coming back around to face her again. “You’re so beautiful.” He gasped.

The words made her smirk, chest heaving with quick breaths. “I know.”

He smirked back, “I’m going to make you divine.” He put his knees on the sheet, the blue and green rubbing together. She stared at the traces, for a moment mesmerised by the mark it left.

She yelped when he grabbed her ankle and tugged her, her wet palms slipping. Her back landed on the sheet, her head stinging a little from the sudden contact. He parted her legs with his knee, she looked up to see him squeeze white paint into his palm. He rubbed his hands together, before using them to hover over her. “You’re going to display the very manifestation of your lust in museums all over the world, (Y/N). We’re going to commodify your sin. That’s my prize.” His hands slid across the sheet and grabbed her waist.

She reached up and grabbed his throat, the smooth white skin tainted blue and green. “It’s going to be our sin, Doyoung.” She dragged her eyes from his eyes to his lips.

“I was under the impression that you didn’t want familiarity.” His hands rubbed white paint up her sides, brushing under her breasts. Both their breathing matched in impatience.

She pulled him closer, resting her lips on his. “If you’re going to immortalise me, I will own you.” She promised. He smiled against her lips, kissing her.

Send me an ask about a character from one of my fics in a scenario and I'll write a drabble.

Character from: Push and Pull

#doyoung smut #nct smut #doyoung scenarios #doyoung drabble #nct doyoung #doyoung #kim doyoung #nct drabble #miscellaneous #push and pull #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct 127 smut

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yamagucji · 3 years

Text

love letters from cupid.

dear lovely anons,

i cherish every bit of interaction we have. im extremely grateful to know that there are people out there who read and enjoy my works. hm, hope you know that i care about each of you. honestly sometimes i just wanna make a post dedicated to each of you but idk!! if you’ll see it or not. hopefully this bit is enough to let you know how much i appreciate every single one of you. thank you.

dear readers,

thank you for reading my works. it’s comforting to know that there are people out there who will check out something that i’ve slapped on together with every bit of my effort. to those of you who have consistently supported my works in silence- you know who you are. im just... keeping my distance because ya’ll are really just minding your own business while i get giddy about seeing you pop up in my notifications again. im hoping to get around and send a ty note to as many special readers n special ppl on this blog. but im a little shy, so i hope you’ll give me some time. seeing you in my notifications from time to time makes me happy; sometimes i do wonder if you’re still here and in good health. i hope you all are right now. thank you.

dear dani,

what a wonderful being you are. never regretting the first time i *shyly* asked if there was anyone that wanted to be friends here. i probably already talk about my love for you and vera so much but who’s gonna stop me? you’re such a cool person. i look up to you (literally). i think it’s amazing to get to know a person who has a lot of passion for history like me. but also- screams about 2d men with me. truthfully, this site is much more bearable having you as a moot. i feel very comfortable talking to you, about anything at all. lomve you, you’re the best.

dear mayya,

kindness personified. im sure you’ve made a plethora of people smile with every rb and comment you’ve given; including me. i think it’s very refreshing to see such genuine comments. you radiate this calm aura that im always seeking for. thank you, for providing me (and many other people) with that. a little embarrassing that you see my uhm, messy sideblog, but... it’s comforting i think. to know that someone is listening. i hope that you understand it goes the other way around too— that i’m here for you.

dear hrituja,

my partner of chaos. when did it start? i can’t remember. all i know is that every little thing you send me on instagram really makes my day. i’ll have bad days and all i need to do is look at the silly stuff you sent me and get a laugh out of it. i think it’s cool that we’ve been able to build this space where we can talk about anything (literally), poke fun of each other, and also ourselves. you’re cool. i genuinely like hearing you go off about ace. if i could meet a moot it’d probably be you unless you’re secretly a fraud and you’re actually just a 80 yr old man looking for a sugar babie. in that case im in.

dear oz,

you overly sweet bean. i genuinely watch you in awe from afar, just by how talented and hardworking you are. your art is amazing, and i always look forward to the design you make for your oc’s outfits. thank you for understanding me, and for being patient with me. i care about you a lot, so if there’s ever anything that’s occupying your mind and you need to let them out, i’m here to listen. ps. i really don’t know any other mutual who listens to *that* comfort stuff like i do so im really thankful to have someone to talk about them with. you can always share your interests with me too, especially with your dearest tendou.

dear tate,

im such in awe of you. just the fact that you devote a lot of your time into writing and setting up the theme for your blog astounds me. not to mention, your art skills as well. i am still very much in love with that bokuto piece you made with the hanging leaves. i hope you know that bokuto loves you just as much as you do to him. i know you’re writing up something special atm, so i’m really looking forward to it. thank you for all the time you’ve spared just to send me an ask. it truly does mean a lot to me. it feels like someone is listening, and i’m very appreciative of having you as my dear mutual. please know that i’m here to support you too, with the best of my abilities.

dear winx club,

[ @wissbby @kageruna @pinkbunnyplushie @astrooliver @lovingtobio @kenmaki @lfjr @lcsbianist ]

im such a clutz, but thank you for dealing with me. i was little nervous to start up such a discord server because im bad at staying in one. though, the warm environment that you all provide makes me feel much more at ease. i think it’s funny popping in to the server and seeing a few people spamming the chat with hugs, headpats and kisses. it’s sweet, too. being in a group discord can get overwhelming for some people, so i appreciate you all for having that patience. another thing- thank you for understanding each other’s boundaries. its hard to be aware all the time especially when you’re interacting with people you don’t know to at a very personal level. im glad that you all helped each other make the space comfy. i look forward to more chaotic and genuine talks with all of you in the future. maybe we’ll still be in touch with each other after a long while? who knows. but im going to cherish every single moment i get with you all.

dear @nishinoya-is-baby @keitsukki11 @sullen-angel24 @smolbludandelions @whootwhoot @cheatingthroughthislife @tadashi-simp @oikaw-ugh @lostsealscreams @sleepykarabou @atsunflower @lfjr @globe-fish @bewwybun @tetsoleil @sleepykarabou @justcafewriter @rin-suna @atsumusc0ck @waitforitillwritemywayout @dorkyhaikyu @yemilnisu @sunseteyes @kenmaki @kenanami,

goodness, i would write you all individual messages if time let me. but, i hope this is alright. i just wanted to thank you all for interacting with some dummy like me because that shit takes real patience </3 y’all are some really cool people and im really glad to have you as a moot. im ngl im pretty sure i’ve stopped by all your inboxes just to forget to actually send an ask :’( or maybe im too shy. one or the other. hopefully i can come around to all your ask boxes soon and fill it with my love because it’s what you all deserve. ya’ll are such amazing and talented people. for the love of god- you have all my love and care in the world. i hope that these past few weeks have been gentle with you, but if not, please let yourself rest from whatever it is that may be putting you down. here’s a gentle reminder that im always here to listen, and i wouldn’t judge you for whatever it is it may be. thank you for being so kind to me, and i hope to return that as well. take care.

@insanitywrites @derpeedoo @killuababie @lespaghetti @ordinary-ace

i haven’t told you this until now but, thank you for giving me company and comfort during a time that i was deeply struggling.

ps. if there’s any grammar or spelling mistakes no u did not see that <3

#cupid speaks #some...#very important ppl in this blog #i love them.

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tobiosmilktea · 4 years

Note

Hello! I really love your writing and I just saw your requests are open yay 👏🏻 So my idea is that the reader (female or neutral, as you prefer it) is a third year who takes art lessons as an extracurricular subject or something and the teacher ask their students to draw posters of the sport teams, and the reader got the volleyball team. The thing is the reader knows the third years but they're not really close, so they talk just a bit. (Part 1)

paint the clouds — tendou satori

4.7k words | genre/s: fluff | warning/s: possible ooc on everyone tbh | pairing: tendou x f!reader

↪︎ in which you painted a muse who always wanted you too

a/n: definitely not my best work and im super sorry for that, but i hope you still enjoy it 👉🏻👈🏻

a warm spring breeze blew strands of your hair in front of your face, laying against your rosy cheeks as you watched the horizon. the bright yellow sun teased the sky with hues of pink and orange, bound to mix into the darkness of the sunset. school had ended a few hours ago and now you were sitting in your art club waiting for your teacher to dismiss you. she was in a middle of a spiel explaining your next art project, but your brain struggled to follow.

your hand ached from drawing for hours, your wrist tender from constant pressure, and now you could’ve sworn you were going to get carpal tunnel sooner or later. it was worth it, anyway, you were doing what you liked doing as you honestly felt being an artist was your only talent. it was merely the only thing you focused on besides your academics. dating was certainly out of the question.

instead, you watched the birds fly past the open classroom window as your teacher explained the assignment something along the lines doing sports teams posters.

“i will be walking around the classroom with a box filled with names of sports clubs,” the teacher starts, pulling you out of your train of thought as your attention was finally set on her. “you will pick a random piece of paper from the box and that will be the sports team you will be making a club poster for.”

whispers erupted in the room as others verbalized which team they wished to get.

“i hope i get the volleyball team, they’re literally iconic.” you heard one girl say.

another voice exclaimed, “drawing the equestrian team sounds super fun too!”

the murmurs continued to the buzz even after the majority of the class had already picked out their sports team from the box. you were the last one to choose as you opted to sit in the back of the class.

“and last but not least,” said your teacher as she serpentine through the desks towards your sitting figure.

your hand dug into the small cardboard box only to feel one last piece of paper. you wanted to scoff slightly, but you stopped yourself the moment you grabbed the last slip of paper and read the messy handwriting. it took you a good second to even understand what it said as it was complete chicken scratch (no offense to the teacher).

“(y/n), what did you get?” your friend who sat in front of you turned with a smile on her face.

"i got the volleyball club,” you answered, eyes widening when your friend gasped.

“that’s literally the best one to get! i’m so jealous,” she sighed as if she just inhaled a rose scented breeze.

perhaps you were lucky to get such a sought after sports team as your main focus for the assignment, but you couldn’t help but feel an overbearing weight suddenly falling upon your shoulders. shiratorizawa’s volleyball team was the epitome of the academy. they were the ones who brought a significant name to the school with only the smartest of intellects but one with the best athletes. depending on how well you created this poster could potentially make or break your reputation. it was a visual representation of the team, anything less than iconic would dig a deeper hole for you.

it certainly doesn’t help the fact that you actually had to talk to the volleyball team now that you were in charge of their school poster. you internally groaned. you barely interacted with the third years, let alone being completely enamored over a familiar red-head.

your after school activities had ended in the midst of your running train of thoughts as you absentmindedly gathered your things and walked out of the classroom. you gripped the handle of your bag as you strolled through the near-empty hallways of the academy, your mind in a complete spiral as you had already tried visualizing what the end product might look like.

it was common knowledge to everyone who had known about you was well aware how amazing you were at art. no matter what medium you were given, you were known to be the girl who had magical hands that could create even the most beautiful things out of ash and smoke. you had this some innate, almost magical ability to have others stop in their tracks just to admire your works.

perhaps that you were too caught up in your own thoughts and the hypnotic tapping rhythm of your loafers clicking against the school floors that you hadn’t even notice your arrival towards the gym.

even the loud shouts of volleyball players from the ongoing practice wasn’t enough to pull your gaze away from the ground and towards the flying volleyball hurdling towards you.

“(y/l/n), watch out!” you heard a familiar voice shout out, immediately pulling you out of your own jungle-like psyche and into the real world.

everything had happened so quickly, all you knew was a blur fly past you to retrieve the ball before it knocked out of conscious. semi eita quickly turned to you, his figure greatly towering over you as he gave you a reassuring smile. “are you okay, (y/l/n)?”

you gulped, nodding almost too quickly. “yeah, i’m okay.”

“good,” he mutters as his brows slightly furrow in confusion. there was a thin blanket of awkwardness hovering above both of your heads as you both stood there in silence for a good five seconds—five seconds too long that is. “so what brings you here?” he finally breaks it, scratching the back of his head in the mean time.

right, you had almost forgotten why you were here in the first place.

“it’s about the art club, we’re doing sports team posters and i was wondering if i could talk to the third years for ideas.” you asked gently.

semi’s eyes immediately widened, the already prevalent smile on his face only increased at the statement. “that’s cool! come with me, i’ll show you to them.” he quickly motioned you to come inside the gym, feeling the brisk air difference of the air conditioned gymnasium to the warm spring breeze outside.

a shiver flowed down your back. not from the sudden influx of cold air surrounding your body, but the fact that towering volleyball players and their ever-so-intimidating nature causing nervous habits to take over you. soekawa jin, the vice captain of the team quickly flickered a look towards you before tapping ushijima’s arm for his attention. turning to see what his teammate wanted, soekawa swiftly pointed at you and semi approaching.

“it’s a surprise seeing you here, (y/l/n).” ushijima greets you in his deep, guttural voice. it caused you to gulp nervously, struggling to even put on the tiniest of smiles as you meekly muttered a ‘hi’ to the rest of the third years. however, it seemed as if the one you were most familiar with was not in sight. it did seem a tad bit quiet in the gym now that the practice game was on a time out.

“um,” one of the wing spikers approached you, ohira reon was it? “sorry for almost hitting you, by the way.”

you swiftly shook your head, “no, it’s okay. i was the one who wasn’t playing attention, so that’s on me.”

“so, you’re here for the poster?” ushijima cut into it like a sharp knife, bold and straight to the point.

“yeah, um, i just stopped by to ask if you guys had anything ideal you want to see on your club poster.” your voice was softer than you hoped it would be when you spoke.

eyebrows furrowing, ushijima glances among his teammates as provocation for an option saturated his hums of curiosity.

semi then clears his throat, “we’re not really sure if we have any input for you, (y/n). besides, i think your poster will be amazing nevertheless.”

“that’s still a lot of pressure,” you mutter, “considering i would be mauled to death if this poster isn’t amazing.” sarcasm drenched your words like saccharine, hoping that the tall athletes would at least get your banter and share a laugh with you.

but they didn’t. instead, they stared with wide eyes at you in a mere worrying glance. perhaps the joke didn’t exactly translate well.

god, this is so awkward.

however, it wasn’t like you were exactly lying. as the face of shiratorizawa academy, you were aware that they needed to look good and if it were any less than that, you might never see the light of day ever again. not to mention you always liked adding twists to your artwork, which was technically the only reason why you were so infamously known to have such amazing works. but in the past half hour, you’ve came to the conclusion that it possibly isn’t the best option in this case.

“i’m kidding, by the way,” you let out a light huff.

“well, if it helps you in any way, you could always focus on ushijima as he is our ace.” soekawa cuts in, patting the captain’s back the moment he braided his arms over each other.

any form of leftover conversation (or lack thereof) was sliced—cut off from the sudden opening of the gymnasium doors and the (quite obnoxiously) loud middle blocker. tendou satori entered the giant gym with a bright beaming face of glimmering lights and cherries. tendou was perhaps one of the first people to talk to you the moment you entered this academy, eyes glazed in a honey-like optimism with every bright ‘hello.’ you always tended to be the quiet and secluded one in your classes with him despite being known to be infamously sardonic, you seemed to be the only one to which his overly comic ways of banter didn’t annoy you like it did with others. he, himself, was a sunray, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to expose that thought as your eyes fall onto the approaching boy.

out of all the third year volleyball players, you and tendou had talked the most, yet considering you two as more than just mere acquaintances was a bit of a reach.

“yo!” the redhead’s loud voice thundered throughout the gym and you could already feel it echo within your heart.

“you’re back,” mused ohira with his hands on his hips. “are you okay?”

“yeah,” tendou says, fixing the loosened athlete’s tape over his fingers. “but the school nurse was already gone by the time i got there, so i had to fix myself up—oh hey, (y/n)!” he had cut himself off the moment his eyes fell upon yours.

your breath had hitched the moment he greeted you. it was as if your heart had immediately jumped into your throat and prevented you from even muttering a word as you can already feel your palms getting clammy. “hey,” you mutter almost in a whisper.

“so what are you doing here?” questioned tendou as his eyes suddenly widen the moment the words came out of his mouth, “uh-that sounded really rude, um—i actually meant that in the nicest way possible, by the way.”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at his sudden burst of scattered thoughts, noticing a faint flush of pink upon his cheeks.

“she’s here for the club poster,” ushijima answers in your place as you seemed to not answer even after a beat had passed.

“oh nice! i’m sure it’ll look really cool!” the middle blocker grinned at you to which a sudden wave of monarch butterflies attacked your gut. you could even feel the heat coursing through your cheeks and all the way to the tips of your ears until they were as red as tendou’s hair.

“hopefully,” you modestly commented, eyes then falling upon tendou’s wrapped wrist and couldn’t help but be filled with curiosity. “what happened to you?”

the middle blocker shook his head dismissively. “i tried blocking one of ushijima’s spikes again, but as you know, it is a bit impossible and i ended up hurting myself. it’s no biggie, though.” he shrugs.

“t-that’s amazing.” you breathed out before you could catch yourself. and you swore, you saw the light pink hues of blush upon tendou’s face had darkened.

how cool, you thought with the stars in your eyes. the thought was a bit controversial, but you couldn’t but find tendou satori cooler than ushijima at that very moment. the fact that he knew very well how difficult and painful it was to block his spikes, tendou still attempted it to the point at the cusp of being injured. you began fiddling with your fingers for far too long as you’ve come to realize how long you were standing there for no more reason. you mentally face palmed as you cleared your throat, “anyway, if you guys do have any preferred ideas let me know before friday.”

before the boys could even say a proper goodbye, your legs were already carrying you towards the exits of the gymnasium as if it was running on autopilot. she did hear their shouts of good lucks from across the room as your long strides pushed you to quickly leave.

why was i so awkward for?

in retrospect, perhaps you were more nervous than you thought. it had been an entire week since you had received the assignment to create a club poster for the volleyball team and there hadn’t been a night filled with peaceful sleep. instead, they were brimming with 2am moments of inspired antics. working on the large poster filled you with nothing but utter confidence even after it was finished, but now that you were actually at school with the rolled up poster of the incredible volleyball team, you couldn’t help but feel waves of reluctance and insecurity.

it was always like this with you. where everything was fine and your confidence within your works were expected, but the moment you did have to present such things, you couldn’t help but think of what you should’ve done differently. you assumed that you could’ve improved your mixed media skills by a little bit as there wasn’t much you could’ve done either way in that murky little head of yours that obviously lacked sleep.

the hallways of shiratorizawa were still pretty empty as it was still quite early in the morning. most of the students were outside anyway, so you quickly took this chance to unroll the large poster. taking some push-pins from the side pocket of your school bag, you hung the poster up in it’s place.

you breathed out one last sigh of ichor before picking up your bag and walking away from the masterpiece.

throughout the entire day, you had come across dozens of stares of others as you walked through the hallways, bringing your endless sea of nerves to heighten until you were dragged upon its tides. there were whispers everywhere. they were probably talking about your poster for the volleyball club and immediately you felt drowned in sorrow.

within a snap, had already thought of the worse possible outcomes that others were talking about how terrible of a job you did. perhaps that leap of faith, that tiny step out of the box when creating your poster was too much of a risk that you ended up falling to your own demise.

“(y/n)!” a voice called from behind you.

turning over your shoulder, you saw a familiar redhead making his way towards you in a bright amble. you immediately felt your heart drop as you whip your head back around and started to walk away.

shit, shit shit. you thought, tendou was definitely not the first person you wanted to talk to you when the possibilities of what he had to say to you was tangling in your psyche. as if they were tangled vines yearning to be untangled for his closure and yet, you refused.

your shoes clicked rapidly against the floors of the school when suddenly your wrist was pulled back, turning towards his familiar tall figure.

your direct gaze was on his chest, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look up upon his eyes. you couldn’t, at least. as if you were, your face would resemble something similar to a tomato.

“listen, tendou.” you muttered, still not attempting to meet his gaze. “i’m kind of late for class, but if you want talk later then we can—”

“no, i want to talk now,” he stated seriously, almost too seriously as it caused you to look up to him in surprise.

your mouth gaped to say something, yet nothing seemed to come out.

“i just wanted to say thanks for the poster.” tendou says as his breath almost hitched from the mere sight of you. he could recall the rushing feeling of blood coursing towards his cheeks and ears the moment he stepped upon school grounds and saw your poster. there his painted figure was, stood more prominently than the rest of his team. it was as if he needed the taste of sweet-tongued cough syrup just to ease his aching cheeks from smiling so hard.

the feeling was amazing. that from the smallest little action of you focusing on him rather than what he thought was going to be ushijima (like always) it was you who chose him. the loud middle blocker over the incredible ace of shiratorizawa. he knew validation wasn’t everything, and yet, his immense feeling of being at the top of the world certainly didn't help the fact that he had always been in love with you. you and tendou had the same class each and every year, that each first day of school, he would always sit giddily at his desk just so he could watch your angelic figure walk in.

in spite of it all, from his loud and upfront nature, he could never bring himself to even talk to you everyday besides an occasional ‘good morning’ whenever you would walk in. perhaps seeing this poster of himself was a little push into the deep end—to finally grow the guts to spill his unspoken epiphanies of built up feelings for once.

“usually, it’s ushijima who’s the face of the shiratorizawa team, but it’s nice seeing a change.” continued the middle blocker on the cusp of rambling, “i really didn’t expect you to focus it on me though, so that was a surprise... which by the way,” he hesitates as if he was do embarrassed to even ask. “why did you choose me?”

you pursed your lips the moment your breath was snatched from your lungs. “um,” you sighed, your mind speedily trying to come up with a plausible answer—something other than perhaps inevitably revealing you feelings for him, “i just think you’re really cool.” was all you could come up with and quite honestly, you wanted to face palm yourself for how stupid it probably sounded.

but to tendou, it was an absolute godsend. his heart thumped rapidly against his rib cage as his cheeks reddened into crimson wine. he didn’t know what else to say afterwards as that was his final push. it was then the idea popped inside his mind. a cheeky smile melted upon his lips as he patted your head gently.

“you’re an amazing artist, (y/n).” he complimented, amused by the fact he was the one who caused your reddening face before turning his heel and waving, “see you tomorrow!”

“u-uh, see you?” you stammered over his sudden departure, briefly waving before hold your hand to your chest. you felt as if your heart was to inevitably combust at the sudden overflow of ardor and vehemence of tendou satori’s actions.

a sigh left your peachy lips, why am i feeling like this?

tendou could’ve sworn he had enough time to make it back to practice before stirring up any suspicions from his team, but the unfortunate tides have come across and drenched him in ill-fate—all gross and sticky.

ever since seeing your poster of him the day before, the thought of you had been on the middle blocker’s mind enough that even ushijima noticed his change in demeanor.

“what’s up with him?” the captain asked semi as they watched the redhead stumble into the gym.

“i think it’s about (y/l/n),” he answers in a hushed voice in case the disorganized tendou somehow heard. “he’s been in love with her since first year and seeing the poster of him is finally forcing him to make a move.”

ushijima refrained from chuckling, “so all it took was a poster with him as the center instead of me?”

“yeah, pretty much.” says semi.

tendou had been non-stop running back and forth between his classroom, the gym, and the art room after that burst of serendipitous ideas clouded his brain until it was all he could focus on. he had already missed the beginning of practice just so he could do something special for you for when he does muster up the courage to confess.

it was something along the lines of returning the favor of what you did to him, but he was well aware of the fact that he was a volleyball player for a reason and not an artist. honestly, most of the work was done with the help of you friend from the art club to which she basically did the drawing and tendou just colored it in. however he liked to think that it was the thought that counted, either way.

“sorry i’m late,” the missing middle blocker finally appeared. he was trying to catch his breathe as he rested his arms upon his bent knees. perhaps he quite disliked how gigantic the shiratorizawa campus was when it came to this. “i had to take care of something.”

ushijima gave semi an amused look before hardening his gaze on tendou, he tried not to laugh as he cleared his throat to hide that fact. “what’s more important than volleyball practice?” perhaps in the ace’s rarity, he was in the mood to tease the guy. “a girl?”

and immediately, the look on tendou’s face—of complete and utter fear that his captain would potentially punish him with extra conditioning was going to be the death of him—was instead replaced with chuckles him ushijima and semi.

“i’ll leave you off the hook as this was your first time missing a practice, not to mention you missed it for a girl you’ve liked for three years now.” said ushijima surprisingly out of character, than even he found himself shocked by saying it. “but if you miss another practice for (y/l/n), you’ll have extra conditioning everyday before and after school.”

tendou nods rapidly, “yessir!”

the rest of the day was filled with the sound of firm volleyballs being hit and slapped across the gym before falling to the floors with a coupled thud.

and despite trying his very hardest to focus his mind upon the practice game, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander to you in your bright enormity. his mind was on you, and yet he was playing the game harder than ever with each and every block he endured. perhaps it was the nerves, the aching adrenaline that flowed through his veins at the mere thought of confessing to you by the time practice ended fueled his fire.

even if this was just a practice game against his own teammates, he was going to win for you and leave the gym with a confident aura enough to give him the guts to walk up to you.

the thing is, the game had already ended before he knew it. his side of the court had won and reached 25 points before he could even blink with the fact that he was in a ready stance even after the whistle had been blown.

“tendou,” ushijima called out to the redhead. “good luck.”

with that, the middle blocker’s head had cleared as he gave a smile to the setter. he walked over his bag, snatching it up and over his shoulder as he grabbed the rolled up poster within his clammy hands.

god, i’m was nervous. he thought to himself as he walked out of that gym.

the loud, boisterous guffaws from the rest of his teammates faded and echoed into oblivion as he walked the opposite way from everyone else. as the rest were going home, it was him who was on his was to your classroom. he had heard from your friend that you had cleaning duties today after school and it was the perfect time to just swallow his pride and just say.

but his actions were definitely faster than his thoughts as he had impulsively slammed the classroom door open without thinking.

you had thrown a shocked glance at the redhead at the sudden harsh action as he had thrown an embarrassed smile at you. chuckling at that adorable look on his face, you quickly set you mop aside. “tendou? what are you doing here? is your practice over already?”

the redhead nods, “yeah, just a couple minutes ago—um, i-uh just wanted to uh—”

he sighed frustratingly. this was the first time that the tendou satori—the third year infamously known for his innate way of speaking to others in such bright confidence for once, had his tongue tied. the reason why was obvious. it was because of you and your beaming eyes and that godforsaken smile of yours that made him go utterly crazy.

he was still trying to find the right words to say when your gaze fell upon the rolled up poster within his shaking hands. “what’s this?” you asked innocently as your hand reached for the poster and took it out of his hands without much force.

“w-wait! that’s—!”

you unrolled the poster, honey glazed your irises as your mouth gaped slightly.

it was you. a painting of you sitting under one of the large trees on one of the campus’s courtyards, sketching who knows what along with tendou’s large handwriting sprayed at the top:

WILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME, (Y/N)?

you breath was snatched out of your throat as you flickered your widened eyes up to him. red and pink hues adored tendou’s cheeks and ears, scratching the back of his head as his chestnut eyes refused to meet yours. if he were to look at you then and there, he would immediately melt into a puddle of blossoming cherries.

“did you make this for me?” you asked gently, still absolutely moonstruck at the poster. it was a simple painting that was definitely not drawn entirely by tendou as you could tell your friend had something to do with it, but you couldn’t help but be absolutely astonished that he even went out his way for this. “i love it,” you whispered, capturing tendou’s attention.

“y-you do?” the redhead huffs in disbelief.

tendou was closer to you, more than you were comfortable with, but you didn’t fight it off. you didn’t bother giving a little space between you two. “i was serious when i always thought you were cool. you were the only one out of that group of popular kids to talk to me and was actually nice about it.” you suddenly professed. your consciousness mentally slapped you over and over again from the embarrassment of saying such a thing. and yet, the signal in her mind didn’t releasse itself until the moment you felt your eyes fall upon tendou’s chamomile lips. and to your peachy ones, did tendou even dare to think of the impossible, of the serenity that filled them under your blushing cheeks,

“i really like you, (y/n)... and i have for a while now.” he muttered.

you bit your lip at the sudden downpour of feelings that you didn’t even notice yourself clutching and perhaps accidentally crumpling the poster he made. “me too,” you said in a mere whisper, your gaze flickering back down to the floor. “and to answer your question... yes, i will go out with you, tendou.”

the redhead felt his breath hitch in his throat, pausing with his eyes almost wide and doe-like when he looked at you underneath the last rays of the setting sun. he let’s out a bright chuckle, “cool.” he attempted to act casually only to break the moment he found your embrace.

you gently laughed as it muffled within his chest, “cool.” you repeated.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #tendou satori #tendou x reader #tendou fluff #tendou imagine #tendou oneshot

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lveclouds · 4 years

Text

a/n: yet another got7 drabble!! this is going to be a bit angsty, so i apologize in advance and honestly this banner is probably one of my favorites hehe and also this drabble took me a while to type up but it was worth it! and this is very much unedited so if you see any grammatical errors then that’s on me lmao

genre: fluff, angst, college/university au, friends to lovers

rating: pg (for mild swearing)

warnings: light swearing, mild angst,a bit cheesy/cliche (jinyoung’s a huge dork in this hehe think wmylb jinyoung, but like a much tamer and softer version. wmylb jinyoung is uh, very passionate in voicing his opinions, and we love that, its just not fitting for the image that i have for him in this drabble)

pairing: literature major jinyoung x arts major reader

word count: 2.3k

you stared at the glowing laptop screen in front of you, eyes struggling to stay open, lashes fluttering, sleep threatening to take over. you couldn’t help but let out a small yawn, forcing yourself to keep your eyes open. the hardest exam of your life, and one that would have a major effect on your grade, was less than a week away, and you had barely looked at any of the review material. you had been so caught up in finishing your arts project and focusing on raising your grade that the anatomy exam had slipped your mind. and now, here you were, at three o clock in the morning, fighting sleep, trying to cram in information. you couldn’t believe you had been so foolish and careless. anatomy had always been a subject that you struggled in, and because you were stubborn and didn’t want people to think you were pathetic or lazy, you refused your professor’s suggestion to enlist the help of a tutor. you were so confident and sure that you could improve on your own, and well, you had never felt so idiotic in your life.

despite looking over the review material and pouring over pages of the dictionary sized textbook you had to lug around nearly every day, not a single ounce of information seemed to be sticking. the last few days had been spent relentlessly studying countless websites, books, review material, and just about anything that could potentially help you. you were beginning to get a bit stressed out, but you supposed that all of this was because of you. after all, you were the one who had decided to neglect studying for an exam all to work on some stupid art project instead. “just a day in the life.” you mumbled, eyes focusing on the laptop screen in front of you, the blue light illuminating the darkness of your dorm, casting dark shadows onto the white carpeted floor.

sighing, you shut your laptop closed and flopped back onto your bed in defeat, head softly hitting your pillow. there was no use in fighting sleep, after all, you could barely focus and dawn was drawing near, and soon you would have to trek across campus at exactly six a.m. for your early morning history lecture. sleep soon took over and all thoughts of studying and the exam faded away as you drifted off into dreamland.

the next morning, you awoke to a soft knock on your door. groaning, you reluctantly got out of bed and went to answer it. to your surprise, it was jinyoung, dressed in an oversized white turtleneck, dark jeans, and loafers, holding two cups of warm coffee and a light blue paper bag. his soft black hair was adorably rumpled, and despite it being five a.m., jinyoung still looked as gorgeous as ever, which you envied. “oh, hi jinyoung. what are you doing here?” you asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “well, i figured you were up late last night again and i dropped by the cafe down the street, and i thought i’d just come by and give you some coffee. hopefully it’ll give you some energy. oh, and i brought some sandwiches that my roommate made last night. trust me, it’s not poisonous. jaebeom hyung’s a lot of things, and one of them is the ability to make a great sandwich.” you chuckled as he handed over your cup of coffee and the paper bag. “thanks for the coffee and the food. i’ll see you later?” “i-i was wondering if you wanted to walk to class together? “i’d love to. oh, please come inside. it’s a bit messy, so don’t mind all the clutter. i haven’t had time to clean lately.” jinyoung shook his head. “it’s fine. jaebeom hyung’s the same. he doesn’t have time to clean because he’s always so busy with writing music and classes, so i do all the cleaning in the dorm.” you gestured for jinyoung to sit on the couch, to make himself feel comfortable, and then disappeared into your room to take a quick shower and put on a decent outfit.

as you and jinyoung walked across campus, he told you all about the song that jaebeom was working on for the upcoming showcase that your university put on every month. “wait, so he composes his own songs?” jinyoung nodded. “he does, its pretty impressive, if i’m being honest. he’s been writing songs ever since he could walk. jaebeom hyung wants to become a singer one day.” “ i wouldn’t be surprised if he does, he’s really talented.” you had seen jaebeom peforrm a few times, and his voice was smooth and angelic and unique, and you had no doubt that he would get recognized for his singing one day. “so, what’s been going on with you? haven’t seen you in a while.” “ah, well, my professors are bombarding me with assignments and i have an essay due next week, but it’s tolerable, i guess. been trying to take a breather every now and then, get my shit together, the usual. anwyays, enough about me, how have you been doing?”

you grimaced. “well, i haven’t been getting much sleep lately. i kinda got too preoccupied in finishing an art project that i forgot all the about the anatomy exam i’m supposed to take, and it may or may not be less than a week away. so, i’ve been cramming.” jinyoung sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “are you kdiding me, y/n?” you laughed nervously. “uh, oops?” jinyoung shook his head, letting out a defeated sigh. “how long has this been going on for?” “u-uh a f-few days?” you looked away, not wanting to see the frustrated and worried expression on jinyoung’s face, fighting back tears. ever since you had met jinyoung on a particular sunny day last summer, the two of you had gone through a lot together, from comforting each other after breakups to taking care of each other when one of you was drunk. you hated making jinyoung worry, as he had enough to deal with, and you didn’t want to burden him. “why didn’t you tell me you were having a hard time?” he asked, and you forced yourself to look at him, instantly regretting it. his gorgeous brown eyes were filled with concern and a worried frown was set upon his perfect lips, and you immediately felt as if you had been stabbed in the gut. “i-im sorry,i just didn’t want to be a burden.” you mumbled, trying to hold back tears. before you knew it, you were engulfed in a hug, strong arms wrapping around you, holding you tight. you felt jinyoung rub comforting circles on your back, and that alone was enough for you to break down, crying into the soft fabric of his sweater. all the pent up stress you had been holding in was finally let out, and jinyoung just held you, not uttering a single word, listening to your soft sobs. after your tears had subsided, you pulled away, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, sniffling. “s-sorry about your sweater.” jinyoung waved away your apology. “don’t worry about it, i’m not gonna freeze to death just because you got tears on it.”

“anyways, i’m sorry for not telling you.” “it’s ok, but y/n, please know that i’m always here for you and that you’re never a burden.” you felt your heart ache at how sincere he sounded, and despite his reassurances, you still felt extremely guilty for keeping your feelings locked away.

“i’m a phonecall or a text away, remember that. i’m always here for you, you know that, right?” you nodded. “thank you, jinyoung.” “no need to thank me, y/n.”

after class, you were feeling a bit better, as you had finally sought help from your classmates on the upcoming exam, and they had given you an overwhelming amount of notes, all of which were extremely detailed and well-written. and, as you were walking towards your dorm, you heard a familiar voice call out to you. turning, you saw im jaebeom, music major and jinyoung’s roommate, running towards you, a white envelope in his hand. “hey, you’re y/n, right?” he asked once he caught up to you, a bit breathless. “yeah, why?” jaebeom seemed to brighten at this, eyes turning into crescents as he smiled, gently placing the envelope in your hand. “jinyoung wanted me to give this to you. he’s in the library, working on an essay if you want to see him.” before you could say anything, jaebeom gave you a small wave before walking off to the other side of campus, leaving you speechless. what just happened? you thought as you opened the envelope, careful not to rip it. inside was a delicate piece of paper, with jinyoung’s familiar looping script written all over it.

“dear y/n, ever since we met, i’ve always thought you were bright. for example, your smile. your smile practically lights up your face and makes my heartbeat a little faster. i’m aware this is quite cheesy, but its true. ever since we met, you have been the brightest person in my world, and the one girl who has managed to break down these walls i’ve kept around me for so long. before i met you, i didn’t know what love was, or rather, why people bothered with it. but, that all changed when i laid eyes on you. you were the most stunning girl i had ever seen, let alone meet, and when you said”hi, my name’s y/n”, i felt my world turn upside down, but, in a good way. you were the person who showed me that it’s ok to love. you also showed me how beautiful love can be. it doesn’t have to be destructive or painful or terrifying. love can be exciting and thrilling and life-changing. even though i’m a literature major and have written more essays than i can count, i seem to struggle with words whenever i’m around you, thus why i’m putting my feelings on paper. i like you, a lot. i’ve liked you ever since you bumped into me on that fateful day, you were the one who has managed to sweep me off my feet, quite literally, i might add, and though i am awkward and clumsy and not as mysterious and alluring as jaebeom hyung, i do have some worth. anyways, please meet me in the library after you read this, and if you don’t, then i know that you don’t feel the same. it’s ok if you don’t, but i just wanted to get this off my chest.

sincerely,

park jinyoung

you felt tears prick the back of your eyes as you practically ran to the library, your heart aching. you didn’t know jinyoung felt that way about you, and you were so happy that he felt the same. you had liked him since the beginning, and you had fallen in love with his smile and all of his quirks. jinyoung was easily one of the most attractive guys on campus, with perfect eyebrows, a cute nose, perfectly sculpted cheekbones, gorgeous brown eyes, and one ot the prettiest smiles you had ever seen. his smile was stunning and never failed to take your breath away, eyes crinkling at the corners,perfect white teeth on display. his laugh was endearing and a sound that you would never get tired of hearing. on top of all that, he had a heart of gold, and was unfailingly kind and polite towards anyone, and also very selfless and humble.

as soon as you arrived in the library, you looked around for jinyoung, and immediately spotted him at a table near the back, typing on his laptop, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. you rushed over to him, heart beating wildly in your chest, and cleared your throat, causing him to look up from his laptop in surprise. “y/n?” he asked, practically scrambling off the chair he’d been sitting on, gently grabbing ahold of your wrist. “what’s wrong? did something happen?” you took a deep breath and grabbed ahold of his sweater, the fabric bunching up in your hands, pulling him towards you and kissing him. you felt him jump a bit in surprise, but he quickly reciprocated the kiss, wrapping his arms around you. the kiss was short and sweet, but you enjoyed every minute of it. when you pulled away, a faint shade of pink had settled across jinyoung’s face. “i-i never knew you were so bold, y/n.” he teased, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. “i didn’t either, but i had to do it before i chickened out.” “so, does that mean you like me?” you fought the urge to roll your eyes. “yes, of course, jinyoung. i don’t just go up to random guys on campus and kiss them you know.” “i-i just wanted to make sure.” “ah, you’re so cute, jinyoung.” “s-shut up. i’m not cute.” “hmm, yes you are.” “anyways, will you be my girlfriend, then?” “well, considering that i just kissed the hell out of you in the middle of a library, i think it’d be foolish if we weren’t dating after that, so yes, yes i will.”

a/n: hehe jinyoung drabble done!! i hope you all enjoyed this lengthy drabble!! i have two more got7 drabbles to write/post and then i will go back to my planned bts ones :) again, this drabble is dedicated to cara, aka @yongcherie one of my favorite humans ever (sends kisses and hugs) ily angel 💞💞and this is also dedicated to my sister issy aka @taeramisu bc i love her and she’s the one of the loveliest angels ever💖

#mine #not bts #got7

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dawgsprite · 4 years

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hey if you could, what would you infodump about rn? id love to hear about it!!

so like. i usually yell abt whatever media hordes my attention-- and rn that's almost always fate (okada specifically because okada is one of the three characters who im like. deeply intimately attached to and hyper aware of at all times living in my head rent free. it's really two now since ones been retired for years but he's still Lurkin), but since fates been on a bit of a cool down recently since i haven't settled on what fate media to consume now except for musing over fate strange fake, tsukihime, and the vns (which i would love 2 read but it's such an intense commitment hyperfocus thing that i don't really have anyone to talk abt it with), im thinking a lot about the other things im reading rn which are chainsaw man, jujutsu kaisen, and to a lesser extent bungou stray dogs.

i think a LOT about jjk because like. almost no one i know is reading it but it's such a good and fun series that i really love?? like it's super easy to just like. get INTO it and have fun. if you're gonna take away anything from this READ JUJITSU KAISEN. it's abt a kid named yuuji itadori semi possessed by a super powerful curse (think demon) and basically alive under the condition that he'll be eventually be executed when he's consumed all the pieces of the curse so it'll be unable to come back in any form. he's got his good friends, his mentor, and then the villains trying to do their own goals, one of which is to revive the king of curses (sukuna) which is the curse that itadori hosts. it's a little typical shonen styling, with the magic school and superpowered protag/villain/mentor, but for some reason it's just like. super fun to me? like i can't understate how much FUN it is to read jjk. like i just get so excited and hyped reading it. i love itadori a lot, he's a fucking dumbass but he's also just raw power (which is mostly unexplained as to exactly why he's almost inhumanly strong even before sukuna which makes me 👀), but i also have more niche faves like toji who's a semi minor character with a very small role but SUPER FUN. I love a bad dad. i also love sukuna but i feel like that's not necessarily niche.

jjk is also like, and i say this anytime i get super excited abt it, super good imo at expressing strength? like there's a few characters who are ridiculously powerful-- sukuna, gojo, and toji coming to mind immediately, and they all feel really strong despite the fact that there's three of them. i feel like it just conveys power and strength and ability really well in a way that gets me at least super excited and invested in the story. fights are really fun, the art is a little messy but i find it still rly nice, and it's got some really good monster design.

it's also got some more hard hitting and intense moments-- nothing like chainsaw man, which i could gush abt the misery of for ages (I REALLY LIKE IT THO EVEN IF ITS JUST BLEAK AS HELL), but like. there's a few moments off the top of my head that really sank in. there's some themes abt like, choosing to do as much for others as you can even if it means your own death, being afraid of death still... but even with stuff like that it doesn't tend to be miserable. it's really fun as ive said before. rn it's in probably my favorite arc so far, but ive enjoyed all of them to some extent. there's only like one arc that im a little less interested in but that's bc ive read jjk like three times by now and that's just the one i know the best so it's not a lot of new info or stuff to ruminate over.

also like. all the characters in jjk are just. super fun and interesting. like there are plenty of side characters that get fleshing out and interesting traits and personalities that make them fun to see like toudou, nanami, fushiguro, Maki... hell toji is a super minor character but like i said he's one of my faves, if not THE fave. there's a remote piloted mecha man, a super powerful sorcerer who only speaks in ingredients, a panda... and the villains are also super fun. like i said i love sukuna but getou is super interesting and mahito is just chaos.

ANYWAYS GOD i just ended up gushing abt jjk. my bad fkskjfskc usually when I infodump it's abt characters but i just love jjk so much and literally no one i know personally reads it besides me and im such a big advocator for it. AND IF YOU DON'T WANNA READ IT ITS GETTING AN ANIME!!! OCTOBER SECOND!!! honestly if you want to get into it but don't want to read the manga MESSAGE ME and im happy to stream it for you/let you borrow my crunchyroll premium guest pass thingy because it's such a good series and the fact that it's getting an anime makes me so unbelievably excited. it's also got a few vas that i LOVE so. extreme hype.

one warning i will say about jjk is that it like. has no brakes. once jjk gets going it kinda never stops and it gets into it FAST so it might be confusing or overwhelming at first but i promise you it's worth it. at least in my opinion. and ive been known to have good taste sometimes.

anyways sorry fksnfkdkf waves my jjk flag in the air. read jjk. come talk to me abt it if you get into it/want to get into it.

(come talk to me anyways i love making friends and talking abt anime. you can always ask me more questions abt anime and i will be more than happy to chatter abt it for god knows how long)

#ask a real live strudel #long post #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #Pleasbe...#i ended up yelling abt jjk because i love it so much #THANK U FOR THE ASK IM ❤️❤️❤️ i love getting to info dump...#i love getting to hyperfocus and have someone to talk to

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onthepyre · 4 years

Text

cats

the second part of this is basically what i did last night but connor is a lot braver than me. anyway.

Evan does this at least once a week.

He gets home, and for whatever reason, whether it be the smile Connor gave him during lunch that lasted a bit too long or that romantic-looking restaurant he walked by on the way home, he's feeling sappy. And he walks straight to his room, lays down on the floor, and listens to Cavetown.

The amount of time Evan spends on the floor is directly proportional to how many times he caught Connor looking at him during science class. Sometimes he counts; the record so far is 23 times in one class period. He spent two hours on the floor that day, staring at the ceiling.

As soon as he's home, he's settled on his carpet with the soft sounds of a guitar playing in his headphones. It's peaceful, quiet. There are only a few things that Evan thinks about, and number one on his list is how much better it would be if Connor was here.

His heart talks about Connor a lot. His mind objects, but Evan's heart seems to beat with his name. Connor Murphy Connor Murphy Connor Murphy. Evan never gets tired of it. His heart talks about Connor's hair, his eyes, his smile, his hands-

Don't get him started on Connor's hands.

Evan has watched Connor draw before. The style of his art matches him well. It's sharp, fast, messy, perfect. But when he's drawing, Evan watches Connor's hands rather than the piece.

They're fluid. They glide.

Connor Murphy does not glide. He stomps, he runs, he marches, but he does not glide. But when he's drawing, his hands float. They look the same, as angular as Connor himself, but they're different. Softer. Evan figures Connor's face is the same, but he's always been too focused to look.

Evan often considers what Connor's hands feel like. They look strong, but Evan is certain they're lighter than they seem. He wonders what it would be like to hold Connor's hand. Is he one of those people that would hang on too tight? Would he barely touch Evan's hand? Would he be grossed out by Evan's sweaty palms?

Evan also, more tentatively, thinks about Connor's hands on his face. In his hair. Looped around his waist. These thoughts, of course, are more focused on where Connor's mouth would be at the moment, but there is attention to his hands then, too.

And Connor's mouth. Of course. His lips are always chapped and often bleeding because Connor picks at them when he gets bored and Evan knows this because he stares at Connor during French class and he knows Connor hates French. Connor bites his lips a lot, too. It isn't meant to be nearly as swoon-worthy as it makes Evan feel, but it nearly breaks him every time Connor chews on his lip. Evan's fairly certain this is something he does when he's bored, too, although it might be a nervous habit.

Connor has a lot of nervous habits, from what Evan's seen. He spins his pen, taps his foot, braids little strands of his hair — the list goes on. Evan knows each and every one of them.

——

Connor has his own sort of ritual. After begging Zoe to stop at Tim Hortons so they could get coffee, he sits at the window in the den and watches Law & Order SVU. He had never seen it until Zoe showed him the John Mulaney bit about Ice-T and now he's addicted. It's a problem.

Unbeknownst to either, Connor's SVU marathons are the equivalent of Evan's Cavetown sessions. Evan thinks about Connor and Connor thinks about Ice-T. And Evan. Mostly Evan.

Connor has a thing for the way Evan talks. He knows that Evan himself hates it and most of the school thinks he's annoying, but Connor thinks it's adorable.

Evan has to say exactly what he wants to say, and if he messes it up, he will start over. He messes up a lot. It doesn't help that sometimes his tongue catches on words and he gets stuck on a certain sound and has to go back to the beginning of the sentence. It takes active listening to understand what he's saying but it makes Connor melt.

That's the thing that makes Connor think so hard. He's supposed to be the mopey badass, the scary emo, the aloof rebel-without-a-cause. He has a reputation to uphold, even if it's less punk and more school shooter (okay, less punk and more sad). He may be openly bisexual, yes, but he shouldn't be falling for a tiny tree-obsessed nerd.

And the fact that Evan of all people is the one his heart decided on is, well, bad. Connor's too worried that Evan isn't into him to do anything other than stare and Evan can't take a fucking hint. Connor may think his cluelessness is cute, but it's also really inconvenient. Connor thinks a lot of things about Evan are cute but inconvenient.

Evan is really, really good at accidentally blocking people's paths and then moving out of the way at the same time the other person does, thus blocking them again. Evan hates it and Connor thinks it's funny. If it goes on for long enough, Evan starts blushing, and Connor starts falling apart.

And oh my god, when Evan blushes. It's not like it's uncommon, Evan is both awkward and incredibly aware of it, but Connor still thinks it's adorable. It brings out his freckles and colors the tops of his ears pink. If Evan is especially embarrassed, he'll try to hide in his hands, but his fingertips are always tinged with the same rose-colored mortification.

Connor's thoughts drift as he pulls out his phone and scrolls through instagram, but Evan is still there in the back of his mind. He's always there, no matter what Connor is doing. He spots Evan in the shadows created by the trees in the backyard; sees Evan's worried smile on his mother's face; catches himself doodling Evan's silhouette in the background of drawings. Evan, Evan, Evan.

Connor's phone buzzes in his hand as he scrolls past a collection of Bee Movie memes. He opens the message, noting it's from Evan.

hhey

He's still typing, but Connor replies anyway.

whats up

The typing bubble disappears for a moment, then pops back up

what r u duing

Connor takes a moment to grin at the misspelling before he responds.

watching svu

do u eanna come see cats with ne

uhh?? no but absolutely yes im coming, what time

theres a show jn half an hour

cool see you then

Connor tucks his phone into his pocket and pulls his hands through his hair. He's going on a date. With Evan. But it's not a date, his mind says. Connor ignores it.

He's out the door in no time, stopping only to grab a half-eaten bag of twix and shove it in the pocket of his hoodie.

——

Evan arrives at the theater before Connor does, and sits down next to a claw machine after buying his ticket. He thinks about texting Connor, but his energy for starting conversations is nearly gone — he barely stuttered his way through asking for a medium popcorn, so he's decided to recharge for a bit while he waits for Connor.

Connor bursts through the door a few minutes later, then stops to look around. He breaks into a smile when he spots Evan, who lifts his hand in a tired wave. Evan watches Connor talk to the woman at the ticket booth, then the man at the concession stand. He approaches Evan with a bag of Sprees in his hand.

"Hey," he says.

"Hi."

"I know Sprees are the worst, but they're the only food that seems to last past the previews, so." Evan nods, trying to hide the already partially eaten bag of popcorn sitting next to him. "Well, shall we?" Connor reaches down to pull Evan up from the bench. Evan smiles as thanks, but Connor doesn't let go of his hand. His mind moves at the speed of light, even though there are only two thoughts in his head: Connor Connor Connor and hand.

Connor holds onto him all the way to the screening room, where he tugs Evan into the back row. He drops Evan's hand as they sit. Connor drops the Sprees into the cupholder on his left and pulls out the Twix, which he starts inhaling immediately.

When the movie starts, there's only one other person in the room: an old man in the front row, who Connor insists is Andrew Lloyd Webber himself, and it's not an issue if they talk because Webber started this whole fiasco and deserves to hear their "critiques."

The moment the first cat appears on the screen, Connor is laughing. "Why does she have boobs?" he whispers.

"Connor!"

"If they're going to give her boobs, she should have six, not two."

"Connor, talk quieter!"

"Are we supposed to be attracted to the cats?"

Defeated, Evan drops his face into his hands while Connor cackles next to him.

They make it to Rum-Tum-Tugger without any other mishaps, but as soon as the new cat starts singing, Connor loses it again.

"Why is he wearing a fur coat? That's terrifying!"

"What?"

"You'd be scared if you saw someone wearing a coat made of skin." Evan looks over at him with a desperate expression on his face.

"Connor, please," he begs, "let's just… let's appreciate cat Jason Derulo."

Connor nods, still wheezing, and calms down a bit. Until cat Jason Derulo whips off his fur coat in a display of his cat muscles.

Connor drops his head onto Evan's shoulder. "I can't do this," he says through a fit of giggles.

But Evan is more focused on the fact that Connor's head is on his shoulder oh my god. And Evan hears Connor's foot tap, tap, tapping on the floor. Nervous habit. And once again, Connor's hand finds his.

"Gotta ground myself. Make sure we're not dead, y'know." So Evan, with as much bravery as he can muster, squeezes Connor's hand. And Connor squeezes back.

But Connor doesn't move. He stays there, his head on Evan's shoulder, his hand in Evan's hand. And Evan can't focus on the movie anymore. He eventually picks his head up to laugh at Mr. Mistoffelees, but Connor hangs onto Evan's hand for the rest of the movie. He's soft, softer than Evan expected, and evidently doesn't mind his sweaty palms, so Evan doesn't complain.

As the credits roll, Evan gathers the bits of courage he has left and look over at Connor. "Is, uh, was this, like a date? Or did I, um, completely misinterpret what's- did I misunderstand this? B-because-"

Connor cuts him off. "Do you want this to be a date?" He's quiet, much quieter than normal.

Evan's voice is even smaller when he answers. "Um. Yeah." He stares down at his free hand, trying to avoid the one Connor still has a firm grip on.

"Great. Then it was a date." Evan can hear the smile in Connor's voice. He looks up, and Connor is beaming, and Evan can hear his foot tapping the floor again. And Connor's hand is on his jaw and Evan is leaning forward and their lips are pressed together.

It's different than Evan had imagined. Slower. Gentler. But he's kissing Connor Murphy and Connor Murphy is kissing him back.

Evan is the first to pull away. He knows his face is a bright shade of pink, but he doesn't really care. His phone buzzes in his pocket.

"Oh, uh, my mom's here." He thinks he sees Connor's face fall for half a second, but he isn't sure.

"Oh. Alright. See you soon."

Evan leans over and pecks his cheek. "Thanks."

#treebros #deh #dear evan hansen #evan hansen #connor murphy #connor x evan #pining evan #pining connor #just a lot of pining #cats #lowkey just me projecting but its fine #kissing #holding hands #kinda sappy #june's writing

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frigfridge · 5 years

Text

just finished rewatching toy story 1 thru 3 over the past few days, wanted to share my thoughts:

i love these movies a whole lot. the first 2 hold a bunch of nostalgia for me because i was A Baby when 2 came out and when i was also A Baby i would just watch our VHS copy of toy story 1 over and over again. this also makes me the exact age group to be emotionally destroyed by toy story 3, which came out just as i was entering high school and hit really close to home

individual thoughts:

toy story: the first thing i noticed was it still looks really nice even watching in 2019!! which i think is kind of spectacular for the first feature-length computer-animated film. it no doubt helps that the plot is mostly focused on little plastic dolls without realistic hair or clothing to animate but the semi-”cartoon” art direction means the human characters also look pretty nice without going too far into the uncanny valley.

also, the plot is WAY darker than i remember?? not because of sid and all the body horror toys, but because for like half of the movie woodys friends think hes an actual (toy) murderer carrying around the severed arm of his victim (!!) like, its hilarious, but also wow theres a LONG way to go between there and the climax of toy story 3.

the soundtrack is probably my favorite of the bunch. part of that is probably nostalgia but i just really like the consistency of having randy newman singing every song. it sort of elevates him to part of the story, like an omniscient narrator singing woodys (and later buzzs) inner monologue. 2 (and especially 3) didnt have as many musical numbers, which i can understand with a shift to a larger-scale approach to storytelling, but i really like the feeling it gives number 1. “you got a friend in me” is an obvious classic thats been remixed and brought back in just about every piece of toy story media im aware of, but “strange things” and “i will go sailing no more” deserve just as much recognition and praise. there just isnt a weak number among them

toy story 2: heres where the story started getting bigger and more existential, which basically becomes the new direction of the series. which makes sense! this one released 4 years after the first, and while theres no real timeskip in the story (maybe 6 months?) it had been a little while since we last saw woody and the gang. everybody in the real world had gotten older, and with the turn of the millennium approaching, the theme of impermanence loomed large in the collective unconscious. well, maybe not in my unconscious, because i was 2. but its really interesting as kind of a “time capsule” to what people were thinking about as the 90s came to a close.

so toy story 2 was a little more grounded, a little more focus on the human world, but it was also more fantastical in its presentation. the opening “video game” sequence (which still looks amazing!!) and woodys nightmare (”i dont wanna play with you anymore...”) show the animators at pixar really found their groove and started getting experimental. and to great result!! the fantasy sequences are a lot of fun and help 2 really stand out.

i would be remiss not to mention jessies flashback song here. its something else they hadnt really done in the first film and i think it really works. jessie in this film unfortunately doesnt get to do much other than fight with woody about whether he should stay or go (except for when she saves him in the end) but this song makes her character work. it also helps that it destroys me every time

also i think this is the movie that gave me an appreciation for the acting of kelsey grammer. i dont really agree with his politics (i also dont know specifically what they are) but he is a damn fine actor and gives the prospector a very genuinely intimidating edge after his heel turn. the casting really makes the character here, but thats nothing new for toy story-- every voice works. if i were the casting director, i probably wouldnt have pulled erudite kelsey grammer for a character named “stinky pete,” but as it is now i couldnt imagine him voiced by anyone else.

the last thing about toy story 2 is it feels like there were a lot more pop culture references? at least as far as i noticed. there are apparently even more than i noticed but i caught on to the “also sprach zarathustra” riff in the opening, and the jurassic park rearview mirror gag. and of course the extended star wars reference with zurg vs. utility belt buzz (and i guess zurg in general.) the references are cute and mostly unobtrusive but really i could take or leave them.

oh yeah also al is hilarious. just this rude, neurotic businessman whos incredibly self-important for the owner of a minor(?) toy store chain. hes such a puffed-up jerk, every time hes on-screen is a delight

toy story 3: this one kills me to death. i always get misty-eyed during “when somebody loved me” but the ending of 3 where andy introduces his toys to bonnie and plays with them one last time made me sob the first time i watched it. and it still does! thats the long game right there, thats the payoff of over 10 years loving these characters. its an emotional ketchup bomb, everything gets all messy and soggy and sweet. hopefully 4 can follow up, but im not really worried about that-- ive heard some good things. damn, its been 9 years since this movie came out, though! it really doesnt feel all that long, but i guess i havent been doing all that much

i actually dont know if i have much else to say about 3. the opening with the re-imagining of the previous films openings (woody versus one-eyed bart, buzz and woody vs. the evil dr. porkchop) is a highlight, although theres a conspicuous lack of bo peep. ive heard she has a big part in 4, but it was kind of weird to see a lot of toys missing and their absence (mostly) glossed over after the first few minutes. i miss r.c. and lenny, but i get they wanted to narrow down the cast so all of them could get in on the plot.

speaking of which, the escape scene is great too. its kind of a crystallizing moment of how close these characters are, and how well they work together. it reminds me a lot of the escape from sids house in the first movie, but there woody was working with sids body-horror toys and seemed to strike up a rapport with them bizarrely quickly. (speaking of which, i miss those toys! their designs were super cool, but i cant imagine they got much merchandise, especially babyface with the sharp, metal spider legs.) here, though, woody and the gang cooperate the best they ever have, and it really paints a picture of how close theyve become over the years, and justifies the emotional climax in the landfill. this is what i was talking about when i said i was surprised how dark toy story 1 got! these toys all hated woodys guts back then for what they thought he did to buzz. they kicked him out of a moving truck! its just weird to think about that conflict between them when you know how long they end up sticking together. but thats, like, neat, so its ok. it feels earned, its just kind of crazy in hindsight.

toy story 3 was also obviously made long after the first two-- by comparison, the lighting is way more sophisticated, the humans are a lot more detailed. theres just a lot more detail In General. the main cast is, like, super dirty for the middle 90% of the film, and it feels like, yeah, We Have This Technology Now. we can render so many individual glitter sprinkles suck to hamms ass and they will be in every single scene. the “fur tech” on lotso and buster is also an obvious clue, especially in the flashback to lotso trudging through the rain back to his owners house. its like “look! we can make this teddy bear SO wet!” and wow! yeah! you did! so wet!

lotso himself is also an interesting villain in terms of sheer bastardness. he is just a huge jerk. he could have hit that button so easily! and he was so mean to the baby! but at the same time hes a great character in how he slowly “changes” throughout the movie. he is kind of an obvious “pixar ‘twist’ villain” but again, the amazing performance by ned beatty really saves him. also he does get a nice comeuppance at the end, which was necessary because hes really the biggest villain in the series so far. hes knowingly malicious and doesnt have any greater motive, hes just an embittered megalomaniac who (apparently) has sent other toys to be broken, thrown away, and incinerated at the landfill. he honestly deserves worse than being strapped to the front of a truck but it works for a family movie.

i have a couple more thoughts on 3 (i guess i did have a fair amount of stuff to say about it) but im getting tired of writing. the music is good as usual, but the vocal stuff being entirely back-loaded (in the credits) is a bit disappointing since ive always been a fan of the songs, but i get that they were going for something different. the jokes about ken being, uh, ‘flamboyant’ felt out of place, mostly the one at the end (”uh, buzz? barbie didnt write this”) because it comes from one of the gang and not unnamed lotso goon #3, but i guess its pretty tame in the scheme of things.

overall im really looking forward to seeing what 4 does with the series. whew!

#hopefully ill see 4 this weekend #personal essay #got pretty honkin long. click at your own risk

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ujimaarc · 5 years

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"My king looks so very tired. It makes one wonder why he is not still asleep as he should be? The sun is hours from rising, love. Return to our bed?"

Science is T’Challa’s general weapon to doggedly question truths beyond his mortal coil. Almost akin to being exposed to a child’s metaphysical imagination, one would want to try to have their wonderment quelled with comprehensible justifications. Opulent Okoume trees circled a lake that seems to have millions of crushed diamonds captured across the surface. The sky was infinitely darker than the preceding noon in the frame of a goddess over red-and-green Wakandan cotton.

The very same frame that had taken the Panther chieftain’s corporeal picture and entangled him in her statuesque dimensions. Above, the stars mapped out the physique of those that took the Great Cat mantle before him versus their usual random spread.

The cat of worship never failed at bringing a mythical challenge to her avatar, much to his chagrin. Failing at entertaining herself by making him uneasy with his understanding of her supernatural naturality is a reality she’ll embrace whenever he chooses to allow it to come.

Through the surreal mist, gold eyes belonging to a twelve foot anthropomorphic bats in the interest of the direction where her nude king sat with company. In a circle made up of a litter of sleeping panther cubs, T'Challa’s amber eyes break from their adoration for the revered creatures and to the one he honored with every breath-take and choice he made towards the betterment of his country.

Time—as she can tell—as she already knew—brought about a welcomed change in T’Challa’s demeanor. Bast is accustomed to noticing his powerful muscles tensing in discomfort and the subtle shifts his jaws do when she spontaneously arranges for them to have their little talks. In this meeting, his composition is the warm radiance of a warrior that unearthed the greatest feeling he’ll ever know ( this time, he would have no qualms with his feline pantheon whisking him off without warning—and this she knew. This is why she sought him at his most vulnerable ).

Whilst entwined in a web of worship in the form of a storm held together by a solid sensuous darkness of her champion’s sinews, Bast patiently waited to converse until the flirtatious kisses ended; until desires to tame an insatiable animalistic hunger stilled; until pillow talk with respect to their longing for this intimate reciprocity ended in amber cat-eyes and oceanic eyes consumed with one another came down into a contented slumber.

“ I am happy for you, my son.” Her tone is thick-accented, flowing strong and finer than her people’s wine. “ I have conversed with your predecessor about the affairs of his heir’s heart—Wakanda’s Queen. Your father had been impregnated with the thought that you had foolishly deprived yourself of having and more importantly keeping romantic love in his life. I trust my champion is aware that T’Chaka wasn’t alone in the belief that his son had gone mad. ” The panther’s smile gives a slight peek into a maw full of imposing fangs. A maw that gradually assumes the full pink lips to her human design of an alluring midnight black woman.

She kneels outside the cub circle and reaches over to caress her avatar’s cheek. Her palm’s warmth is comparable to how Queen Mother touched him. Her earthly musk intoxicated his senses and almost stirred him away from caring about the purpose of this unexpected meeting. Mention of his father concerns and the thought of Ororo snuggled against his form back in the real world necessitated his focus on the conversation.

“ There was a Burundian proverb that haunted my mind ever since I made the contumelious decision to break the greatest woman this world has led me to know. “Where there is love, there is no darkness.” ” Without needing to delve into the darkness that kept him engulfed ( for Bast has always known her champion’s trials and tribulations and will continue to know until his time is up and he is to join his ancestors ), he goes on to gently whisper, “ The fault lies in no one but myself for influencing that impression. Embarrassingly enough, It took me longer than it should have to make, as they say, heads-and-tails, of my feelings and what was ultimately the right course of action to take. ”

“ —And after you finally followed your heart, you’re here,” Bast perceived. “ Now that you are, a part of you is in disbelief, virtually unable to comprehend that it’s a reality that the Wind Rider has given you the privilege of having her heart once more and that you two share the same bed once again. ” She fills their surroundings with syrupy laughter then. In ways, he is not the mid-thirty-year-old king of an unconquerable land, but a boy still learning about the ways of the world around. A fault not on him, for he is a mortal dealing with extraordinary mortal hardships, but an amusing one to observe nonetheless. “ Unlike the past chieftains of the Panther clan, you’re criminally harder on yourself—more than most your enemies. ”

It’s a truth she hasn’t admitted to him yet, but But bast enjoyed watching her representative put the elephantine puzzle pieces of his life together. Each piece that connected created a powerful layer that formed around the undying legend of the Great T’Challa, for as long as this Earth is never obliterated. It was only recently that he solidified that belief when he sought reconciliation with the herald of mutant-kind and won her over again.

T’Challa paused, became reflective—of his royal status and of Ororo. They came a long way. They were going a long way. He was able to be confident in that. She made that possible. He would like to call it… Kismit.

Flashing back…

Just yesterday night, the sliver of placid pine that underlines her sultry voice enticed him to join her in a dance that commands the attention of every Wakandan in attendance. Like a curious little boy, he only wished to shy amongst the audience and bare witness to the full sight of her curves in motion. To watch the entranced faces of those in the Royal Palace admire and appreciate she who ruled their king’s heart work her art form in a way they have never seen before.

Her two identities—Kenyan and African-American—mixed with her own unnamed flavor delivered mysticism by her lonely, but she wanted to be joined—needed to be joined. By him. By the man that yearned for her to be back, by his side, as his love. She set her sights on him and merrily navigated her hypnotic rhythm his way, and pulled him to be united under the spotlight without resistance. How could he resist? Even his ancestor, Hu’Nahn The Defiant could understand his lovestruck successor’s fall.

Their smiles were pliant to each other’s preciously-powered, cosmo-imbued propinquity. The luxurious world around them was lost, the two stepped in an enchanting rhythm, with each step building up a new universe around them. Having their fingers interlocked like they were put him in a bind of childish need and discipline. She spins like a miniature tornado ( one she free willingly allows him to have control of ) and his arm around her lower-back prevents her fall from his grace. There they found their eyes lost in their respective vibrantly-hued depths like children experiencing the cliche “love at first sight”, and wealthy fits of laughter would soon follow. She complimented his reaction time, then hit him with a threat that no one else could hear: if he had missed his cue and missed catching her, he would be in for a miserable night and none, not even his Dora Milaje would be able to save his hide.

His Highness made her aware that he has indeed been catching every cue tonight and how he intends on properly responding when their space is their own.

( How can he who possesses the natural instinct of man, the uncanny senses of the panther, and the stubborn bull-like focus miss any of Storm’s venereal transmitted signals? From the blatant flirting to the way she talks to him in codes in front of others, the few chances she stole to whisper when others were out of earshot, and the little signs of impatience she showed, wanting the night to reach its end. )

Twenty minutes later T’Challa delivered a timeline of messy garbs ( some that’ll need to be rethreaded, others pulled off as gentlemanly and womanly possible under carnal influences ) reverential touches and kisses, and the unplanned one-on-one session taking place currently in the spirit plane.

“ I’m merely a king and a man that’s mused by all the blessings his love has given him. ” He finally said, commitment clear in his voice. “ I am the opposite of afraid: with an inquisitive mind, I can’t help but wonder about the channels that I can take to keep things the way they are going—I am purely enthusiastic about our new journey. ”

All of what he says please Bast. It is good to hear him speak confidently again and understanding that’s retreating his brooding phase. This was quality that will keep her fed—for now. “ Very well. You present no reason for me to doubt your words, my Black Panther. It is her first day back and the reception on her return has gone exceedingly well. After all that you two have done for the world, you both deserve to have your own semblance of happiness.” Her visage became faint in an expanding mist, along with her voice as if was quickly retreating into another plane that’s making it impossible for him to be near. “ May you and Wakanda’s future Queen prosper for a long to come. We will have a chat again. Your woman is awake. ”

When T’Challa opens his eyes, he finds himself in a position that he wasn’t in prior ( as previously mentioned, he was in Ororo’s arms. Plane-walking? ): he was standing in front of his window, posture struck militantly, with his hands cuffed just above his tailbone. A sweet, husky voice broke his amber-hues from their attention on the moon and the stars above to the dark-skin beaut regarding him in confusion from behind him in his—their—bed. His conversation with Bast is pushed at the back of his mind, as he saunters over to their bedside. “ Apologies, my love. ” Our king sat down on the edge, reached over to have his thumb stroke her defined cheekbone, and touched her full lips affectionately “ I have been thinking about giving you a personal taste of home for breakfast: for starters, how does Mandazi sound to you? Coconut milk, cardamom, and coconut are the main ingredients for that, correct? ”

@fierceststorm

#fierceststorm #tchalla x ororo #[ longest post this blog will probably ever have ]#[ dis took MONTHS - tchalla so hard v-v ]

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amazingviralinfo · 7 years

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Wests life and music have combined into an ongoing piece of performance art one that appears unsustainable at this pitch

In an era when the likes of Beyoncé can release perfectly formed records without warning, the saga of Kanye Wests seventh album has been comically messy. He first announced it a year ago, under the name So Help Me God, but postponed its release by several months while renaming it Swish, Waves and, finally, The Life of Pablo.

In the weeks prior to its grandiloquent live-streamed launch at Madison Square Garden on Thursday an album playback featuring celebrity guests and an army of black models debuting Wests latest Yeezy fashion line he posted a series of perplexingly self-destructive tweets on topics including his ex-girlfriend Amber Rose and Bill Cosby. Even for a man who clearly subscribes to Oscar Wildes dictum, There is only thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about, it was a bizarre display.

West, 38, is arguably the most important pop artist of his era and certainly the most compelling, for good or ill. He speaks, and indeed acts, in superlatives. In recent years he has described himself, not always entirely seriously, as the greatest living rock star on the planet, the new Steve Jobs, a potential US president and, simply, the nucleus. Inevitably, he inspires extreme reactions.

When he was booked for last years Glastonbury festival, more than 130,000 people signed a petition calling for an insult to music fans all over the world to be dropped. The vehemence of such attacks on an apologetically outspoken black man doubtless had a racist dimension but that alone does not explain why the rapper is such a uniquely polarising figure.

West was brought up to achieve great things. Born in Atlanta, Georgia, but raised in Chicago by his mother, Donda, an academic, he was given the name Kanye meaning only one Omari wise man and she taught him above all to love himself. In her memoir Raising Kanye, Donda wrote that West inherited from his father Ray, a former member of the Black Panther party, little patience for what he thinks is unjust. Wests kindergarten teacher said to Donda: Kanye certainly doesnt have any problem with self-esteem, does he?

That dude was focused since he was a shorty because he knew what he wanted to do and he had a mother who supported the shit out of him, his friend and fellow rapper GLC once told Complex magazine.

Kanye West in 2004. Photograph: Frank Micelotta/Getty Images

After enrolling at art college in 1997, West dropped out to pursue production work for the likes of Jay Z, with a signature sound based on accelerated soul samples, and then fought doggedly to be taken seriously as a rapper.

I realised that he was going to make it happen and he didnt mind being an asshole, Damon Dash, Jay Zs partner in Roc-A-Fella Records, told Complex. If you dont mind being an asshole, youre not going to lose. He wasnt scared, he had gall. A decade later, West told the New York Times: I knew I was going to make it this far; I knew that this was going to happen.

In October 2002, West was involved in a car crash that shattered his jaw and changed his life. He was convinced that God had saved his life and that he needed to write more profound lyrics. He described this epiphany in his 2003 single Through the Wire: a superheros origin story in which he emerges from a life-threatening accident stronger than ever. I knew I was dealing with a different human being after the accident, his managerGee Roberson told Complex. From that day forth, it was game on.

Unlike his mentor Jay Z, the middle-class West couldnt draw on a violent, hardscrabble youth for credibility so he had to create his own drama, trumpeting his talent and ambition to a degree that was unusual even by hip-hops self-aggrandising standards.

Im the closest that hip-hop is getting to God, he told journalists at an album playback in 2005. Talking to the Guardian afterwards, he described his florid braggadocio as both a form of self-motivation and a theatrical performance. Its like Im walking on this tightrope. Its like, damn, what if he falls? And if I do make it, its like, damn, he made it! But either way youre saying damn. Everybody else is just walking on the ground.

West backed up his rhetoric by constantly redefining what hip-hop could be. The College Dropout (2004) bridged the gulf between mainstream rappers and socially conscious underground MCs. The lavish Late Registration (2005) was co-produced by thefilm score composer Jon Brion. The Daft Punk-sampling, Nietzsche-quoting hit Stronger, from Graduation (2007), began hip-hops lucrative liaison with EDM. Most of its current stars, including Drake and Kendrick Lamar, walked through doors that West opened.

West is a tireless enthusiast with constantly expanding tastes and an ear for whats next. He has been adept at choosing collaborators, from big names such as Rihanna and Daft Punk to up-and-comers such as Arca and Kid Cudi, and taking inspiration from fashion, cinema, architecture and visual art. He is a famous perfectionist who claimed to have mixed his single Stronger 75 times before he was satisfied.

Logic would seemingly state that an album with so many people working on it would sound disjointed, but what Kanye manages to do is get the best out of everyone working towards one sound, the producer Evian Christ told Pitchfork in 2013. You cant really overstate how difficult it is to do that.

West is also an unpredictable lyricist who is equally capable of self-aware jokes, crass, misogynist punchlines and eloquent examinations of race and class. Early in his career, he spoke out against homophobia in hip-hop and blurted out George Bush doesnt care about black people during a telethon for victims of Hurricane Katrina, although he has only sporadically engaged with politics since. He is often at his best when he is being inappropriate. (Five years later, Bush called the incident the all-time low of his presidency.)

Wests behaviour changed dramatically after Donda Wests death in November 2007, from heart disease. He rarely talks about the loss but last year told Q that he blamed himself: If I had never moved to LA shed be alive. West became a more haunted and guarded figure, returning to music with 808s & Heartbreak (2008), a brave, introspective album that featured more Auto-Tuned singing than rapping and paved the way for Drake and The Weeknd.

Kanye West takes the microphone from Taylor Swift as she accepts her award during the MTV VMAs in 2009. Photograph: Jason DeCrow/Associated Press

The loss of his mother invited sympathy but the next turning point in Wests life inspired fury and derision. In 2009, he interrupted Taylor Swifts acceptance speech at the MTV Video Music Awards, bringing to the boil a long-simmering backlash. (West ungallantly references the incident on his new song Famous.) He retreated to his bunker if Hawaii can be called a bunker and made his decadent epic My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy (2010) with a legion of collaborators including Nicki Minaj, Bon Iver and Elton John. He later described it as a long backhanded apology.

In recent years, Wests ambition has become both grander and more diffuse. During interviews and concerts to promote Yeezus (2013), an audaciously abrasive electro-punk primal scream that he called a protest to music, he delivered long, furious monologues about his struggle to break into the fashion industry.

He increasingly seems more interested in clothes than in music Right now, over 70% of my focus is on apparel, he told Paper magazine and much more besides. He has compared himself to such world-changing figures as Picasso and Walt Disney, befriended the tech stargazer Elon Musk, and talked about his ambition to inspire an army of risk-taking cultural soldiers. You can see the growth from Im gonna be this great artist to I wanna do something that ignites a fire in peoples souls, he told Q.

However much credit West gets, it is never enough. In a 2013 interview he compared his critics to the eight-grade basketball coach who would not include him in the team even though he hit every shot. The next year, he made the team. West is driven by the desire to prove his doubters wrong, and fired up by his previous ability to do so.

While most high-profile artists accept that they cannot please everybody, West craves approval from establishment institutions that he appears to hate, from the Grammy awards to European fashion houses, as a point of principle. I dont care about the Grammys, he told the New York Times. I just would like for the statistics to be more accurate.

It is unclear what will happen when West can no longer hit every shot. The singles he released last year, including collaborations with Paul McCartney, were coolly received. His Glastonbury performance promised to be either a triumph or a disaster but, most reviewers agreed, fell somewhere in-between. Pitchforks Jayson Greene wrote: He is responsible for the current zeitgeist, but listening to his slightly confused new material, you get the distinct sense that hes struggling to find his current footing in it.

Reading Wests recent tweets, it is impossible to work out exactly what he is trying to achieve. He is clearly a more volatile and erratic character than he used to be. Marriage and fatherhood are often stabilising influences but marrying Kim Kardashian in 2014 has pitched West into a tabloid world with an endless appetite for gossip. It is unlikely that he could retreat from the spotlight, as he did in 2009, even if he wanted to.

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Kanye West releases album and fashion collection at Madison Square Garden

His life and music have combined into an ongoing piece of performance art which is unsustainable at this pitch. No artist can remain the nucleus of pop culture indefinitely. One day, this extraordinarily successful figure will face the new challenge of learning to cope with no longer being the man everyone is talking about.

Potted profile

Born: Kanye Omari West, on 8 June 1977 in Atlanta, Georgia

Career: Began producing music for local Chicago rappers in his teens and landed his first high-profile job in 1999. Launched his solo career with The College Dropout in 2004. Has released six platinum albums, won 21 Grammy awards, designed several clothing lines, and featured twice on the Time 100 list of the most influential people in the world. Runs the record label Good Music and the creative content company Donda.

High point: Bouncing back with his magnum opus My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy in 2010 after his snafu at the Video Music Awards temporarily derailed his career: even Barack Obama called him a jackass. In December 2014, Pitchfork named it the best album of the decade so far.

Low point: The death of his mother in 2007, soon followed by his split from fiancee Alexis Phifer.

What he says: I will die for the art, for what I believe in, and the art aint always going to be polite.

What they say: Hes a brilliant madman. He cant help himself. Like, he doesnt have the same filters other people have. He has to blurt things out hes always saying inappropriate stuff. But he also has brilliant ideas, if you can get him to pay attention long enough Madonna.

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