#mono mumbles

[mono-chromia]

me suffering under self imposed fic deadlines because diamonds are made under pressure or something

[aromanticannibal]

#dynadeku is trending wonder why

[aroace-poly-show]

the young they i forgot your pronoun has ruined me

[nervousmonolith]

what are they cooking ‼️

[merrilark]

Sometimes I think too hard about how a lot of Sonic characters just have one huge eye and it weirds me out a little.

[manicpixiefelix]

Felix is definitely whiny and a big baby whenever he's sick so Reader is taking care of him and making him homemade soup.

(where do i keep finding these?? also warnings for Felix and Reader being cute and domestic while Felix has a cold, if that icks you)

"I'm going to make you sick," Felix mumbled as he gingerly held the bowl of soup you'd brought him in both hands. He had otherwise cocooned himself in every single blanket both he and you owned, so now you were sitting directly next to him, despite the awful cold that had befallen him. Your own bowl of soup cooling on his nightstand, you'd chosen instead to keep reading your book while letting it cool down.

"I'm going to make you sick," you mock in a high pitched tone without even looking up from your book, much to Felix's dismay.

"Hey!" But it doesn't sound quite right with his stuffy nose, "you're being mean to me, you're not allowed to be mean to me, I'm sick."

"Felix, I've caught every cold, flu, and stomach bug you've had since we started secondary school together," you look up, giving him an exasperated smile as you reminded him of your shared history in the matter, "and vice versa." Considering for a moment, Felix sulks defeatedly, blowing with only mild effectiveness, on his soup. After a moment, you go back to your reading.

"Did I give you mono in sixth form?"

"Farleigh gave me mono and I gave it to you," you corrected idly, to which Felix only had a noise of discomfort as his answer. "For the record, I never mind if you make me sick," voice going quiet and genuine for a moment, you feel Felix shift beside you, resting his head on your shoulder, "I'm just glad you let me take care of you, it's worth it to get a little sick, and I know you always take care of me when you're better."

"'course I do," Felix sniffles a little, and you automatically pause your reading. Putting your book down, you reach over to grab him a tissue, taking his bowl of soup in the trade so he didn't spill it as he blew his nose. Struggling to lean over you for a moment, he tosses the tissue in the bin by the bed before taking back the soup with thanks, "and I will," he only sounds marginally better for the moment, "promise I'll bring you so much soup." Despite his state, his voice is warm and fond, and for a moment, you lean in and steal a quick kiss from him with a grin.

"I'm so gross right now, and I'm going to get you so sick!" He protests, but the flush on his cheeks isn't all the illness's fault. Picking up your book, you shrug with a casual, teasing smile.

"I was gonna get sick anyways."

[holdmytesseract]

A Hypnotising Spell

model!Tom Hiddleston x fem!Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend surprises you with a very sexy clip he shot for an ad - but also for you.

Warnings: suggestive/light smut, flirting, a lot of thirst, sexy Tom?

Word Count: 2,3k

a/n: I had the idea for this oneshot, as I listened to this song...

I just couldn't help myself but to write it...

Masterlist

divider by @fictive-sl0th <3

(Credit for the picture goes to @multifandom-worlds 😁)

"Tell me."

"Not a chance."

Tom shook his head; smiling playfully at you. He knew he was teasing you.

"Pleaaase?" You looked at him with literal puppy dog eyes, but it didn't work. Much to your dismay. "No, darling. I can't. Unless it's not a surprise anymore... And I want it to be a surprise."

You sighed; giving up. "Alright, got it." Tom smiled; pecked your lips softly, before he went to zip his suitcase shut. You watched how his muscles worked underneath the loose tank top he wore and bit your lip. "Not even a tiiiiny hint?"

Your boyfriend looked up at you with a warning, but still playful glare. "Y/N..." "Okay, okay!" You chuckled and lifted your hands in surrender. "I give up!" Tom smirked; something boyish glinting in his oceanic blues. "You better will. Unless, I have to make you shut up." "Nope." You said; popping the p, before you hopped to sit on your little make-up table. Legs crossed and gently swaying them. You palms were anchored to the table; supporting you. "You can't, because you have to be at the airport in exactly... thirty minutes."

"There you go..." He breathed; stepping between your legs and gently pulling your body closer towards the edge of the table. "Caused you to shut up within a mere few seconds."

The handsome Brit standing a few feet away from you beside the bed scoffed. "We both know that I don't even need thirty minutes to shut your pretty mouth."

With three long strides - and before you were able to say something, had crossed Tom the short distance between you. He dipped his head and without further ado let his lips crash against yours; making you gasp. You'd never get used to the incredible feeling of his piercings against your skin - and on your tongue.

You shortly gazed on the clock. Twenty-eight minutes until Tom had to be at the airport. Fifteen minutes until he had to leave your shared apartment.

You smirked; wetting your lips with your tongue. "And..." You started; lifting one hand and slipped it underneath his grey tank top; feeling the outlines of his abs underneath your palm. Tom gasped at your touch, "... what else do you think you could do to make me shut up in... fourteen minutes?" and words.

Due to the angle and the very loose shirt he wore - which was hanging quite low now, gave you a delicious view down his upper body. Inked skin, pierced nipples, rippling muscles and the darker hair growing between his pecs and in a thick line starting from his navel and disappearing underneath the waistband of his black gym shorts.

You let your hand climb higher; gently tucking at his right nipple piercing - making Tom to groan softly. You made it very clear what you wanted - and he knew. "So?"

Without answering you, he quickly slid his hands underneath the back of your thighs and hoisted you up in the air, before your legs found a grip around his waist a few seconds later. You squeaked up in surprise and giggled, when Tom literally slammed you down on the bed; hovering over you. Two hands planted beside your waist on the mattress; strong arms holding him up. A predatory look in his eyes.

You could also swear that those shorts looked tighter than usual. "Fourteen minutes, huh?" "Twelve," you corrected him; voice shaking with anticipation. "Twelve?" He mumbled huskily. "Still enough."

With those words he claimed your mouth with his again, but before you could get lost in his breathtaking kisses, you broke them with a wet pop and pushed him gently. He knew what to do.

Mere seconds later, Tom found himself seated on the edge of the bed. Leaned back with his elbows and forearms supporting the weight of his upper body. His legs were spread. You knelt between them; hands gripping his twitching thighs.

"I'm going to miss you..." You sighed and bestowed another kiss upon his soft lips as you stood at the airport; bidding your boyfriend goodbye. You knew where he was going... Detroit. For one week. He had been hired for a model job. More you didn't know. It was all he had told you. The rest was supposed to be a surprise.

He insisted and you let him.

"I'm going to miss you, too, darling. Even though it's just seven days." You hugged him tightly then. "Text me as soon as you landed, okay?" Tom smiled. "Sure, love. I promise."

While Tom went to work in the US, you got to work inside yours and Sam's studio in London. Your week was packed as well with quite a few photo shootings and other appointments you needed to attend.

Of course you called Tom every day at least once; mostly through video call. No matter how stressful yours or his day was, you'd always make it work someway somehow...

Tom was just jogging down the Detroit Riverwalk, when the music in his ears suddenly changed into the ring phone of his mobile. A look on his Smartwatch told him, that you were the caller. He smiled and immediately tapped the small green button to accept the call.

A shiver ran down Tom's spine. "Don't threaten me with a good time." "Ohh..." You purred. "I never would." The Brit swallowed.

"Hello, darling," Tom panted; was a little bit out of breath due to his jogging. You hesitated on the other end of the line; blinking. "Umm... Am I... interrupting something?"

Your words caused him to chuckle. "No, you're not. I'm just on my daily morning run." "Ahhh, too bad," you answered with a sigh. Tom almost choked at his own spit, but then grinned to himself. "Very naughty, my little minx." "Sorry, babe, but you know exactly how our call ended yesterday night, so..."

This wasn't going how he thought it would...

"Okay, okay, change of topic, darling. I just left the hotel and I don't wish to return straight away..." You giggled once more, "Sorry, I couldn't resist..." and took the first bite of the Cheese Macaroni Sam got you for lunch. "Why are you going on a run this early in the morning?" You checked the time. "It's 7 a.m in Detroit. What the heck, Tommy? I thought I'd wake you up from your sweet dreams, but no..."

You would've loved to talk longer to your boyfriend, but work was calling as well...

Tom chuckled. "I sincerely apologise for disappointing you. Unfortunately, I had to get up earlier, because I have to be at the studio in... An hour." "Ugh... Sounds like a long day is ahead of you, babe." "Most likely, yes." He took a few deep breaths, before speaking again. "And you, love? What are you up to?"

You took another bite of the Cheese Macaroni. "Two photo shoots and a little shopping trip with Sam." Tom smiled; passing by a few people who were walking their dogs. "Sounds great, love. Have fun." "Thanks. And you? Anything else beside whatever it is you need to go to the studio for?" "Not much, honestly. Perhaps having a little swim in the hotel swimming pool, but beside that..." You bit your lip; smiling. "Sounds great. Next time I- Oh... Sam's here. I think I have to keep on working. Have a great day, babe. I love you." "Thank you, darling. I wish you a wonderful day, too. I love you even more."

Five days later, you welcomed Tom back home - and you were absolutely excited. You couldn't wait to see what surprise Tom had for you.

While he unpacked his suitcase, you leaned against the door frame; watching him with anticipation. "You are so impatient, darling." Tom said; chuckling, while he threw his dirty clothes in the hamper. "Yes, obviously, because my boyfriend was away for one week for a single model job and just doesn't wanna tell or show me anything. I wanna seeee!" The Brit chuckled again. He turned to you and walked over; resting both hands on your hips. "And you will, I promise. It just... takes another day or two."

You whined. "Tommy..."

Your jaw dropped. "Whaaat? Why?"

Tom smiled, "You'll see." and pressed a sweet kiss on your nose. You huffed. "That's not fair." "Life isn't."

"What?" You boyfriend answered; giggling.

"Stop being a moralizer. You are already smart enough." Tom couldn't help but laugh out loud. Sometimes he wasn't the only one who behaved like a small child.

He wrapped you up in his arms and brushed his lips over your neck, which caused a shiver to run down your spine at the sensation of his piercing grazing your skin. "I love you."

You smiled. "I love you, too."

Two days later, you came home from work in the evening; throwing your keys on the counter and taking off your shoes, you walked towards the kitchen. Hungry. You were utterly hungry.

You didn't find something to eat, though... Tom was leaning against the kitchen counter with a little, quadratic envelope in his hand. Through the window of said envelope, you could make out the features of a CD.

"Hi, ba- Ohhh... Is this what I think it is?" Tom greeted you with a kiss; then nodded. "Indeed."

You squealed. "Show me!"

"Don't you wish to eat something, first?" He asked; wetting his lips and giving you a glimpse of his tongue piercing. You shook your head. "Nope. I wanna see what you've been up to in Detroit."

Tom smiled. "Alright."

"A... A clip? Tommy, did you do an ad?" Tom smiled down at you and clicked onto it. "Watch and see..."

You squealed once more and followed him into your shared office. He started the computer and put the CD in the drive. Then Tom turned the swivel chair. "Take a seat, milady." You sat down excitedly. He turned you around again, so that you were facing the big screen of the computer. "Are you ready for your surprise?" "Gods, yes!" He chuckled. His way too big hand enveloped the way too small computer mouse as he went to open the file.

You had anticipated to see a lot of pictures, since you thought he had a photo shoot, but there wasn't a single picture to be seen. On the CD was only one file - a clip.

So, you did.

The screen was dark. All you could hear was the sounds of (presumably) Detroit city. Engines, people chatting, car horns, foot steps. But after a few seconds, the sounds of a quite familiar song kicked in... 'It's A Man's, Man's, Man's World' by James Brown.

You swallowed hard. That was one of those typical 'sexy man' songs - and if Tom was anything, then sexy. You hadn't seen Tom yet, but you already knew that it fitted him perfectly.

Tom.

Finally, after a few seconds, the darkness on the screen vanished; turned into an old street in Detroit. Old buildings, old street signs, old traffic lights and old cars.

The camera drifted over the grey asphalt, until it met a pair of brown, almost cowboy-like boots.

The camera climbed up Tom; showed now his long legs, which were covered by loose light blue trousers. Cord trousers.

Then his upper body was shown - perfectly in time with the song.

You swallowed. It looked like typical 70s clothes.

Your boyfriend wore a wide black shirt. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the first few buttons undone; exposing some of his tattoos. A silvery necklace hung low across the exposed skin; drawing your attention to the fine, dark hair underneath.

Tom had thrown a dark blue denim jacket over his left shoulder and was casually standing on said street.

This is a man's world, sang James Brown - and the delicious deadly combination of the music and Tom's look almost caused your heart to stop for a second.

He looked drop-dead sexy.

Tom looked around, subtly wetted his lips and started to walk down the street then. His entire backside was filmed - and it all happened in slow motion.

Torture..., you thought. Sweet torture.

You were staring. Simply staring. Shamelessly and certainly not respectfully.

The next shot was a car. An old Jaguar XJ 12 to be exactly... In black.

Tom walked towards the Jag. Then the scene changed and showed how he leaned casually sideways against the hood of the vehicle. Long legs crossed; one hand buried in the pocket of his trousers and the other running through his styled hair.

You almost combusted on the office chair; fingers gripping the armrests tight.

The scene changed once again and showed how Tom sat graciously inside the car and how he drove the Jaguar. A close-up of the opened window with his hand and forearm resting on the door was shown. The camera was fully focused on his hand, which seemed even bigger. Long fingers adjusted the side-view mirror; veins pulsing beneath the skin.

In the background was Tom softly biting his lip; oceanic blue eyes literally shining.

The back of the car and Tom driving down the street was the last thing to be seen, before the screen got dark. The music faded gently with the credits rolling.

You were still staring.

Both, you and Tom erupted into giggles.

"And?" Tom's voice suddenly urged to your ears. "What do you think? Do you like it?" You turned your head and looked at your boyfriend; blinking. "Like it? Like it? Tommy, like is absolutely understated." You scoffed. "That was probably the sexiest thing I have ever seen." Tom smiled cheekily and ran a hand through his blonde-brown locks. "That was exactly what I wanted to achieve."

You bit your lip and stood up; straddling Tom's thighs as he sat on the other swivel chair beside you. "Ohh, really?" You asked; climbing onto his lap. He nodded; "Yes, ma'am." hand immediately gripping your waist. "Very naughty." Tom chuckled. "I thought you knew that, darling." "Well, yeah... You've got a point."

"Please tell me that you still have the clothes from the video." Your boyfriend gave you a smouldering look and winked. "Of course I do."

Tags: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @huntedmusicgardenn @hisredheadedgoddess28 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @fictive-sl0th @loz-3 @javagirl328 @icytrickster17 @jaidenhawke @eleniblue @lou12346789 @lady-rose-moon @km-ffluv @herdetectivetheorist @lokiforever @simping-for-marvel @cakesandtom @crimson25 @vanilla-daydreaming @kimanne723 @glitchquake @lulubelle814 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @buttercupcookies-blog @november-rayne @lokidbadguy @smolvenger

[kthvlr]

taehyung x idol!/celeb! reader pleaseee

doesn’t even have to be smut just something FLUFFY

also ur so talented at writing !

⋆౨ৎ HOME AT LAST - kth ᝰ.ᐟ

— . ݁₊ ☕️ ⊹ . ݁ ˖ —

summary: after such a long time, you’re happy to be home at last

notes: thank you so much! i’ve been meaning to write some pure fluff recently and this really helped me come up with something. so sorry that it took a few days, i hope you enjoy nonetheless :) this can be read as a fluffy prologue to drunk in love but can also be read by itself. it wasn’t my intention to make it a prologue but i think it could work as one. also, i feel like i can’t write fluff but whatever. happy valentine’s day!

word count: 1.7k

genre: fluff

pairing: taehyung x idol!reader

warnings/tags: idol!au, established relationship, domestic fluff, movie nights, very sweet and fluffy, reader is HEAD OVER HEELS for taehyung, (and he is for reader 🤭), mention of sex, not proofread…🧍‍♀️

it had been far too long since you and taehyung had seen each other. you were both busy with your comebacks; writing, recording, filming music videos, performing at music shows. not only the preparation took months but so did all the stuff that came after, so with your busy schedules, you hadn’t spent a full day together in weeks. until today.

finally, both your schedules allowed you a few days off from all the chaos, and you couldn’t wait to spend those days with him after only being able to see him at award shows or events.

so you’re at his door. you knock and almost immediately, the door swings open to reveal your boyfriend with the biggest boxy smile on his (beautiful) face, dressed in an old shirt and some sweatpants. he’s been at home for a few hours but you’re coming straight from an interview so you still have your makeup done and you’re not in the most comfortable clothes, so you can’t wait to get changed and spend some time with him.

his smile is contagious, so you can’t help when you match his expression as a warm, fuzzy feeling engulfs you. you can’t wait a second longer, so when he lets you in and closes the door, smile never faltering, you immediately wrap your arms around his torso, burying your face in his chest and closing your eyes.

he hugs you back without hesitation, one of his hands resting on your waist, and the other finding purchase in your hair. he kisses your head before mumbling “hi” and you can hear the smile in his voice.

you lift your head up and open your eyes to look at him and you almost get lost in his eyes. they were captivating. their colour resembles black coffee, but the way light reflects onto them mimics how stars look in the night sky. a galaxy that you could stare at forever.

what pulled you in further was how each eye had something different to explore. his left eye was big and round, eyelid forming a small crease which completely contrasted his right eye. with one double eyelid and one mono lid you found his eyes unique and interesting. not to mention the perfectly placed mole which sat on his right eye.

in a way his eyes reflected each side of him. they were wide and curious, reminding you of how he looked up at you with puppy eyes. you could never say no to him when he looked at you like that. or sometimes he’d just watch you with those same wide eyes, fascinated and in love. you sometimes wondered how he could love you so much if he himself is the most lovable person you know.

his eyes could also switch in a split second. they could change into something sensual. something filled with desire and yearning. when he looked at like that it was the complete opposite to the wide puppy eyes he gave you. when he looked at you like that he pulled you in. he trapped you in his gaze before kissing you. touching you. loving you. giving you the pleasure he knew you deserved.

but right now, he wasn’t looking at you with either of those looks. he was looking at you with love. just like you were captivated by him, he was by you. and you would’ve gotten completely lost in his eyes if it wasn’t for the thought of his, arguably, even more enticing lips breaking you out of your trance.

at the idea of his lips, your eyes flicker down. you study them; smooth and glossy from where he probably licked them (a habit of his you found rather endearing), his heart shaped cupids bow, and a mole decorating his lower lip. so perfect. so kissable. you don’t think you could possibly resist any longer.

your hands travel up to cup his cheeks and pull him down towards you. your lips capture his in a loving kiss. you can feel him smiling on your lips and you reciprocate. you hadn’t realised how much you missed this. how much you missed him. when you pull away your eyes find his again, before you mumble a “hi” back, your smile also evident in your voice.

he places another quick peck to your lips before his hands make their way from your waist to the zip of your coat. he pulls it down and moves behind you to remove your coat and hang it up for you (a small yet meaningful gesture he always insists on doing).

after turning back around he notices your attire and upon realising that you’re still dressed in the clothes you wore for your interview, he speaks, “let’s get you into something more comfortable, yeah?”

you nod and exhale a sigh of relief as he takes your hand to lead you to his room to lend you some clothes and makeup remover. he hands you one of his old shirts and a pair of sweatpants you left at his house from your last visit, leaving you to get changed and wash your face after informing you that he’ll be waiting on the sofa for you, and when you get there, you’re pleasantly surprised.

the lights are off, the living room only being lit by a few candles and the light radiating off the television. the blinds are open displaying the romantic view of the moonlit sky above the vast han river. the sofa is covered with blankets and you can spot two wine glasses and some of your favourite snacks on the coffee table (which after dieting for your comeback is one of the greatest sights to see)

you stop in shock upon seeing what he had done for you, jaw ajar and the hand, which was previously holding your phone to your face, dropping down to your side. you were speechless. and, after not being able to spend any time with him for so long, you were overwhelmed with emotions. a wave of relief, happiness, and love for him washed over you as you finally looked over to him standing by the sofa with a shy smile and tv remote in his hand.

with you still in shock and staring at him with wide eyes, he asks shyly with a slight raise of his eyebrows, “movie night..?”

you practically beam. tears prick your eyes and not out of sadness. no. out of pure appreciation and love for him. you knew you missed him but in this moment it’s like it all hit you at once. you didn’t even realise how much you missed him up until now. so you waste no time and rush into his arms, tucking your head into his shoulder and engulfing him in a hug, to which he immediately hugged you back.

you move your head to look up at him and you can’t believe you’re lucky enough to have him. and suddenly your lost in those eyes again. you always are. you gaze at the vast galaxies in his eyes and then, almost routinely, you glance at his lips again; smooth and glossy, wearing a heart shaped cupids bow, and decorated with a perfectly placed mole. you’ll never get tired of them.

so of course, you lean up to kiss him, lips melting together and dancing in a slow and steady rhythm. he kisses you back with just as much love, pulling you in closer by your waist before his fingers start to trace patterns up and down your clothes back.

you both break apart for air, smiling contentedly, before you speak, only a few inches from his lips,

“i missed you”

his smile widens, “i missed you too”

he takes both your hands in his and leads you round to the sofa. you both flop down, immediately being engulfed by the soft cushions and blankets which he laid down for the two of you. he grabs the aforementioned blanket and covers both of you with it, before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in, allowing you to rest your head on his chest.

using the remote, he skims through the options on netflix, the two of you settling on a film you both considered a favourite. one you had watched many times together. one you had watched on your very first movie night with him.

you thought back to that night. you were in his arms just like you were now, though, back then, it was all new. you were only just beginning to get used to the feeling of having his arms around you. you weren’t as familiar with the way he kisses you. you had only explored the stars in his eyes a few times and were nervous to let yours flicker to his lips.

now, you were used to his arms around you. in fact, that’s where they usually were when the two of you got some alone time together. now, you were familiar with the way he kisses you. when the two of you kissed, your lips moved with harmony and understanding. and now, you had explored the stars in his eyes countless times and found yours flickering to his lips no matter how hard you tried not to let them.

though, admittedly, even though you’ve grown to know and understand every part of him, what hasn’t changed was how your chest still felt warm and fuzzy when he engulfed you in a hug. how your heart still races when his lips capture yours in a kiss. how you still get lost in the galaxies which are reflected in his eyes, and how yours still look down at his lips each time you’re captured by those familiar stars.

no matter how much time passes and now matter how well you know him, he never fails to have an effect on you. he never stops wrapping his arms around you, kissing you with love, making you get lost in his eyes before yours travel to his lips. never stops giving you the comfort you need after a long day. never fails to make you laugh. never disappoints with the pleasure he gives you. never stops doing the little things that make a big difference. never stops caring about you. never stops loving you.

he never stops being a home that you can come back to. screw the four walls and the furniture. the house didn’t matter. he was your home. and after such a long time, you’re happy to be home at last.

☕️

𐙚 show some love to my other works!: masterlist

[dilucspanties]

                                   staring contest.

                   ਏਓ

about ; after a show, you and the lead guitarist from dickz meet up in the bathroom for some stress relief.

warnings ; nsfw, fem!reader, modern/college au, use of the petname baby, mentions of smoking, public sex, diluc cums inside, he also has a tongue piercing..

[ from mono ; this came in my head at 2am so please mind the desperation of heavily tattooed guitarist!diluc as i have been having writer's block for weeks. also, might make this a series with all the dickz's ( diluc, itto, childe, kaeya, zhongli ) members ;) ]

you had heard of the band dickz very briefly from hu tao the day before. she was given some extra tickets by her classmates, and had been told that a college band would be playing at a local venue.

as her best friend, of course she invited you to go. you had gotten the run down of the band, already knowing zhongli previously as he was a TA from your class last semester and known he was in a band with some of his friends. what you had not known was just how hot their lead guitarist was.

in fact, you were not expecting it. you were completely mind fucked as soon as he came up on stage, it was as if you were mesmerized. his long, fire-red hair thrown up in a loose ponytail high above his head; his shirt, a black t-shirt which deliciously showed off his arms which were full of tattoos, and his incredibly sexy hands which held a bright red guitar.

he was gorgeous. you weren't even sure if you heard their introduction because of the trance you were in from seeing him.

it was almost as if time stopped when he made eye-contact with you, a small smirk on his face as he began to play along with his band. he never stopped looking at you.

their entire set, his eyes were glued to yours, not even having to look down at the chords he was playing or even bothering to look at the rest of the crowd.

the eye contact had an affect on you, as unfortunate as that was, causing you to squeeze your thighs together and praying for you to stop being so horny. your eyes shied away multiple times, but eventually found their way back and every. single. time, his red eyes were staring you down.

you briefly began to wonder why of all people he was looking at you. could he tell you thought he was hot? did he think you were hot? did you have something on your face?

whatever it was, you were determined to find out.

꙳⸌♡⸍꙳

once their set was over, you found yourself realizing you didn't really get to listen to any of their songs. you could only plainly laugh as hu tao nudged you, asking you, "they were great, right?"

honestly, you wouldn't be able to tell her if they sucked or not. you found yourself beginning to pout as you saw them leave the stage, looking around a bit for him. 'it couldn't just end like this...' you thought to yourself. it was then that you saw a tuft of firey-red hair heading towards the venue bathrooms which were blocked off.

"gotta use the bathroom." you mumbled quickly, not waiting for hu tao's answer as you hurried towards the bathroom.

you weren't sure what you were planning or why you were heading over there, but you were for hell sure that your little staring contest would not just end in staring.

you saw him outside of the bathroom, his face even more gorgeous up close than you thought it was. he was staring at his phone, texting someone. he only looked up when he heard you clear your throat to make your prescence known.

"hey." you spoke, your voice seemingly quiet for some reason. his eyes looked at yours, a slightly amused expression in them, as he realized just who you were. he leaned against the door of the bathroom, a small smirk on his face.

"hey. you were the girl who was staring at me all night." he teased, tattooed hands making their way into his pockets. he made sure to look you up and down, taking you in as you felt yourself scoff.

"me? you, mr. guitarist, were the one staring me down all night." you retorted, rolling your eyes jokingly at his tease. he liked that, a small smile forming on his pretty face.

you felt him come closer to you, beginning to backing you into the wall. you made your eyes meet his, tension thick in the air before he spoke. "i was, not gonna deny it." he stated matter-of-factly. "name's diluc. what's yours?"

diluc. even his name was hot. quick and lewd images if you moaning it out filled your mind.

you told him your name softly, not failing to notice at how he was so obviously checking you out. he brought a cigarette to his lips, lighting it swiftly before inhaling it with a soft hum, blowing it back in your face gently. "did you like the show?" he asked, the smoke in your face causing you to cough, but you found it so sexy nontheless.

truthfully, you weren't paying attention to his show. "i wasn't listening." you spoke honestly, earning an amused laugh from the guitarist. usually, he would take offense to a statement like that, but he found it endearing from you, especially because he knew that he was the reason you weren't able to listen.

with the tension in the air, and the way he was staring you down, you wanted nothing more than to kiss him. to taste the bitterness of the cigarette on his lips, to hear him moan and curse because of you.

diluc took notice of how you were beginning to fidget under his gaze, your thighs slowly pressing themselves together. he found it adorable, and a bit of a turn-on as he could see just how much you wanted him.

he took a few more puffs of his cigarette before flicking it to the ground and crushing it beneath his shoe. he took a look around him to make sure no one was coming or going before pulling you into the bathroom. "this is ok, right?" he asked, pulling you close to him as he kicked the door closed with his foot.

you simply nodded, mind a bit hazy from his sudden movement. "'m want you so bad, thought about you all night." you spoke softly, running your hands through his hair before pushing his lips onto yours.

he kissed you roughly, his tongue feeling searing hot as it explored your mouth with ease. you could even feel a tongue piercing, a light moan left your lips at the feeling, soon being replaced by a gasp as he hooked his arms under your thighs and lifted you up. you made a note to explore his piercing more if there was ever a next time for you two.

you soon realized that diluc was big in every sense of the word. his hands, his height, his build, his cock. you could feel it getting bigger in the confines of his pants, your mind wandering to how he would hopefully soon be pounding into you.

although he wanted to take his time, get a chance to properly taste you and make you cry from being far too overstimulated, he knew his group was waiting for him and security would come checking the bathroom soon enough.

"gotta make this quick, 'kay baby? be a good girl and make sure not to be too loud." he said, bringing his fingers to your lips as a signal for you to let him in, and you did so gladly.

your tongue swirled around his fingers, coating them in your saliva as your eyes fluttered, making sure to keep eye contact with him. once he was sure they were coated enough, he pulled his fingers out, a string of saliva connecting them to you.

diluc placed you on the counter of the bathroom, quickly undoing your pants and pushing your panties to the side. you were both becoming desperate and impatient, the tension in the air making it almost unbreathable.

his hands lightly caressed your clit, circling the bud gently. a moan left your lips, hitching your leg on the counter for easier access as your head leaned against the wall. his slightly calloused hand did wonders for your clit, your cunt becoming drenched in it seemed a matter of seconds.

"you're so needy." he almost cooed, seeing at how honestly your cunt responded to his touch. "gonna give you what you want soon, baby. just gotta open you up first."

god, the way the name fell off his lips, the way he sounded so impatient yet caring was driving you absolutely insane.

a sharp intake of breath was heard as he inserted two large fingers into your cunt. it stung a bit, but he immediately used his free hand to circle your clit, causing the pain to subside almost immediately.

you whimpered as he moved his fingers, holding onto his arm for support as you bucked your hips up to meet his movement. you knew it was important, as you could feel how big he was from when he was carrying you, but you didn't care. you wanted him so bad.

"need more, want you inside." you whined out, your voice almost breathless as your back arched at the feeling of his continued touch on your clit.

diluc had probably known you in the matter of about 10-to-15 minutes, but he could see himself marrying you. you were so fucking hot, and your voice was driving him insane. though the marrying part was a bit of an exaggeration, he did wander about getting to know you more.

though, he pushed those thoughts to the back of his head as he got back to the matter at hand. you were practically undressing him yourself, hands almost shaking as you struggled with his pant zipper. it was so cute. he had barely even touched you yet you were shaking for him.

yeah, he was becoming obsessed with you.

he swiftly undid his zipper, pulling his cock out with a slight hiss at the feeling of the cold air hitting him. his cock was starving for you, standing hard and proud, head flushed and leaking precum already. you were both quite needy for each other, and you couldn't understand why.

though, the sight of his cock almost made you drool, shaky hands reaching towards his as you began to stroke his cock. a pleased hum left his lips, watching as you eagerly jerked him off.

once he had enough, he pulled you in, giving you a quick kiss as he turned you over, your stomach against the counter and face right up against the mirror that was against the wall. "remember, not too loud. okay, baby?"

you didn't even has time to answer as you felt him enter you, your hand slapping over your mouth as you cried out at his size. diluc wanted to be gentle... take his time, let you get used to him, but there was no time for that. his band mates would begin to wonder where he ran off too, and you would rather die than have hu tao come knocking at the door.

his free hand went back to your clit, pinching and circling his fingers around the bundle of nerves as he pounded into your cunt. tears formed in your eyes at the feeling, the pain and pleasure all too much to handle.

"you look so fucking pretty." diluc moaned, lips finding themselves on your neck as he muffled his moans into them. you muffled yourself with your hand, eyes rolling back at the feeling of his cock and his hand on your clit.

it was all so lewd. you two barely knew each other, yet here you were. fucking like two horny bunnies in the venue bathroom where he had just performed. you managed to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and noticed just how much of a mess you looked.

your hair was slightly out of place, eyes teary and mascara running down your cheeks, which were hot and flustered. he was just so good. every thrust had your knees buckling and cunt begging for more.

the feeling of his fingers on your clit proved to be too much, soon enough gushing all over his cock with a loud whine, your orgasm ripping through you. your cunt was squeezing him so tight, he was going to go mad.

"shit– fuck, your pussy is so fucking addicting." he huffed, hands never stopping from circling your clit causing your legs to shake from the overstimulation.

he was so close. so fucking close and he wanted to ruin you. make you scream and cry, but that would have to be saved for another time.

his lips left a open kiss on your neck, licking the shell of your ear as his thrusts began to pick up. "can i cum inside, baby? don't wanna get your pretty clothes dirty." he whispered, his tone slightly whiny and desperate, causing you to almost cum again at the thought of him coming inside of you.

you quickly nodded, eyes tearful and overwhelmed with pleasure as you moved your hand and blabbed out. "yes, god– yes, please. please cum inside, i want it so bad. wanna be filled up."

your babbling was enough to push him over the edge, a low "fuck," leaving his lips as he emptied inside of your cunt, hips stuttering at the sensation.

you felt so full. you both fought to catch your breath, feeling quite exhausted afterwards. he wrapped his hand around your neck, pulling you up for a rather soft kiss despite the circumstance.

"thanks, bab-"

"hey, are you in there (y/n)?!" you heard hu tao outside of the bathroom, pounding on the door. you felt your heart drop, as you looked at diluc a bit cluelessly. he was still in you, for god sakes.

you both quickly separated and fixed your clothes, diluc smoothing your hair so it wasn't completely obvious that you two had fucked, despite it being really fucking obvious.

he gave you a quick wink, opening the door which revealed an extremely shocked and confused hu tao. with a slick smile, he looked back at you as he made his way past her. "thanks baby, feel free to call me sometime."

you were mortified, jaw agape as he walked away, not missing his quite adorable thumbs up as he made his way back to his band mates. you were then left with a smirking hu tao, who was far too nosy for her own good.

"oh my god, tell me everything!"

                                                    ༺♡༻

please do not repost or share!

[shinmelodia]

Love & Process: blue (2002)

Hello to everyone reading, and welcome to a highly belated attempt to squeeze some of my thoughts and emotions through some semblance of a creative process and onto a page. Today, I want to introduce this blog by talking about a lovely film, blue (2002), directed by Hiroshi Ando and based on a manga by Kiriko Nananan.

Since I'm still somewhat new at diving into live action film, especially, like, uh, Japanese indie film, its helping to start with the yuri genre. Because like practically any other woman on this site, I quite enjoy lesbians. blue's manga original offers something of an alternative to the yuri norm, though, and the film follows suit. Both are definitely examples of the Japanese filmmaking trend I've heard of called "mumblecore," (or maybe mumble-komi for the manga equivalent) that most people know through the likes of Inio Asano's early work. Like Solanin or Girl on the Shore, blue is shoegazey, quiet, and contemplative, adorned with moments of subtle physical intimacy, layered emotion, and stunningly beautiful compositions of daily life.

My metric for these kinds of slow mood pieces, which I've previously tended to watch at random whenever the mood struck me, is that if my barely-medicated ADHD brain can even finish them, there's clearly something special going on. blue passed with flying colors; yeah, ok, it took two sittings, but I spent all of both enraptured, immersed, and invested in the mono no aware of silent, fragile love and messy asymmetry that formed this movie's emotional palette. blue is about love, of course, but its also about process and expression, both emotional and creative, and how processing things, artistically, verbally, non-verbally--is often required of real, human love.

In being about this, I think it did things for me that a lot of yuri often doesn't and gently hit me in a place that I really needed to be hit. So, let me get into it. This is going to be...very personal, and also obviously spoil the details of the film, if you care about that, although I'm sure there will be plenty of depth left in the text that I leave untouched. Whether you read it or not, I'll be happy I made it. Oh, and sorry if I come off as really New for being so struck by themes and aesthetics that are probably sort of standard for this type of film. I can't help what I feel like writing about, though.

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Kirishima Kayako lives in a small town by the sea, one much like dozens of other anonymous, disaster-prone exurban towns in Japan at the turn of the millennium. She rides the bus to her girls' high school every day, where she eats lunch with her friends and tries her best to learn something in class. Really, though, she's aimless, quiet, lonely, and introspective. She's trying, but its rare for others to be able to tell. She's also in love with her classmate, Endou Masami. When she confesses at the end of the first act, on a windy beach against the vastness of the ocean, Endou responds that she's glad, and the two become our lesbians for the movie. Kayako falls to her knees and cries in relief. Masami is different from the others--she sees how hard Kayako tried. Does that mean she loves her back, though?

Endou Masami has cool passions and interests; she collects American CDs, which she expertly critiques and describes while lending to friends. The mere view of her vibing to her American alt-rock while smoking a cigarette in front of her apartment window is album-cover worthy in itself. Kayako feels the same way: one of the most intimately gay scenes of the pre-confession portion of the film is when Masami lights a cigarette and asks if Kayako is shocked. The quiet girl declares without hesitation, "No, I'm admiring the way you lit the match."

The whole early film is such a delectable, lonely vibe. The slowly intertwining couple's solidifying dynamic is the kind that forms between an emotionally complex introvert and the perhaps even more unknowable yet somehow more confident object of their affection. The two are classmates, (there's no classic yuri kouhais and senpais here) but for the early part of the film we are seeing things from Kayako's perspective and Masami seems unmistakably older in spirit. There's something about the dense emotions conveyed in her gazes at her new girlfriend, the almost world-weary tinge of recklessness in her distant grins. She talks about music Kayako's never heard of and lends out books with Romantic-era paintings that she has well-formed thoughts on. Kayako even openly admits that if she could, she would want to be Masami.

I think we've all loved a girl like that.

It's a pretty typical experience in middle school or high school, for really anyone lonely who loves women, to be drawn to these sorts of sad, beautiful, oh-so-seemingly-complex femmes. I guess straight men have a similar thing going on with the whole Manic Pixie Dream Girl archetype, but for us women (or, women-to-be, at the time, I guess), the phenomenon of these people to us often involves a sort of existential jealousy. I'm not sure what is so alluring to other people about the sense that the object of their love has Something Going On that they are working through, or a vast and complicated life beyond the scope of one's understanding, but it me it always felt like something I was missing out on for myself. Obviously, a lot of their experiences and interests must be interesting and fun and super cool, you think, but even what pain you think they convey must be somehow more edifying than yours.

For me, the edifying aspect was the mere fact of femininity itself. The idea of a girl who has deep and Real emotions, who feels Real love and Real sadness and can actually express that in how she looks, beautiful and imperfect, always threw into stark contrast my own inability to express myself comparably. I was depressed, I was growing up, and I felt things, too, but, as someone who everyone thought was a straight boy and who was too scared to admit to being otherwise, I lacked that sort of beauty, that means of expressing what was inside me through fashion, makeup, book or music knowledge or taste. Or at least I thought I did. Thus, my own emotions must have also meant less. So, I ignored them and belittled them, and entire years passed before I processed a thing correctly. I always wanted to be some other girl. That was the only thing that would fix me.

I assume that the teen (and, uh, sometimes beyond) existential pining experienced by some other people in real life usually lacks the fun bonus that mine had of a screaming void where my femininity should have been, but I'm not sure how much this actually matters to the crux of the kind of experience I'm talking about. That some kind of void is there is all that matters, really, and its there for Kayako in her relationship with Masami at the beginning of the film. She has nothing, Masami is everything, and just being close to her is enough, for now. Just being noticed, just sharing something with her, is all Kayako feels like she can ask for.

Of course, this incomplete way of seeing love can't last, which brings us to the next part of the film, which starts when the two are hanging out and Masami reveals through a guarded, distant grin that she had an abortion a while ago. This isn't something that shocks Kayako or is really meant to shock the audience, and it isn't the big moment where she forced to reconsider her feelings. Rather, she asks how it went, and Masami responds honestly. She mentions she felt horrible the next day and had to be picked up by ambulance from the nurse's office, prompting Kayako to recall silently what to us was the film's first scene, a view from her window during class of an anonymous ambulance, sirens turned off, discreetly rescuing a student.

That she had this ambiguously traumatic, and at least unpleasant and potentially taboo experience is something that could have made Masami feel even older to Kayako, her pain even more distant and obscure. It certainly already is a way that Masami herself feels distant from others. Yet, by considering her own special, observant view of the ambulance back when it happened, it becomes one that Kayako can in some small way assertively share with her. Rather than continuing to put her lover's experiences on a pedestal, Kayako in this scene makes a silent decision to turn a blossoming mutual acceptance simply that they happened into a moment of true intimacy between the two, a sleepover punctuated by smirking kisses and satisfied cuddles initiated by each of them for the other. Despite her remarks that Kayako is weird for unhesitatingly wanting to stay with her, its an intimacy that Masami is happy to accept. This is all an important turning point in Kayako's development because she begins to choose insight, closeness, and assertion over the distant admiration that trapped her earlier.

As we go on, we'll start seeing how blue's gentle impact comes from the way it doesn't glorify or sugarcoat that earlier kind of unhealthy and immature dynamic. Instead it subverts it by giving Masami depth and Kayako agency, before reaching an endpoint that reflects on how the dehumanization of that kind of depressed, pining relationship can be overcome. In that sense, blue is a yuri romance mostly about the couple coming to accept their own and each other's humanity and capacity for expression. Like any good mumble movie, its full of long silences and almost unrealistically hesitant dialog, and doesn't give any explicit internal monologues like a lot of manga do. The world of this movie is one where expression is an uphill battle, something that has to be worked towards and struggled through. It's the world that Kayako and Masami share, in their own separate ways. And that's why its such a triumph to watch Kayako finally find her voice, her passion, and her process, which all starts in this scene.

First, though, it's time to learn about the Something that Masami has Going On.

Things begin when Kayako is still sleeping. Masami gets a call on her house phone that she doesn't answer, but that sends her into a silent spiral of emotional dread. She spends the next day at school in the nurse's office, refusing to tell Kayako what's going on and confiding only in her friend Nakano. Then, when summer break comes along, she disappears, leaving Kayako alone at home, pouring silently over the book of still life oil paintings that Masami lent her.

It ends up being Nakano who tells Kayako why she left. It's the story Masami didn't tell about the source of her abortion: an adult, married man whom she had a relationship with and eventually a pregnancy from. She got things taken care of without telling him, alerted her parents and tried never to see the rotten salaryman again. That is, until he called. He wasn't getting along with his wife anymore, apparently, and she had some sort of attachment to him that made her come running back. Her taste in music originally came from him, after all. It seems that, for the time being, her devotion to this mysterious, abusive man is going to perpetuate a brutal cycle: she'll keep hurting both Kayako and herself all at once.

What really destroys Kayako and her relationship, though, is that she lies about it. When she comes home after some predictably rough interactions with this guy, she tells her supposed girlfriend that she was enjoying a vacation with friends, and even gives her some grapes, supposedly grown in the prefecture she was hanging out in, as a twisted souvenir. The more assertive Kayako enforces her boundaries without hesitation, though, in equally as blunt a tone as she complimented her love, as when she told her she wanted to stay with her, all those nights ago. "Why are you lying to me?" Its with that same grin, now tinged with emotionally oblivious deception, that Masami dares to at first first feign ignorance.

"Eh?" Her smile is shallower than its ever been.

So Kayako walks away.

Their dynamic has now become worse than just immature; it's entirely toxic. From an outside perspective, Kayako is working on her shortcomings, while Masami refuses to reconcile her past. This kind of toxicity, though, is sadly just as common in high school (and even sometimes middle school) as is the kind of misunderstanding, lonely pining I talked about earlier, just usually among different sorts of people. Appropriately, its often even that exact kind of beautiful, hurting, mature femme (in the eyes of disastrous, moody lesbians like Kayako) who is going through that sort of pain. Its that mysterious and tragic byproduct of compulsory heterosexuality that causes a lot of girls to seek validation in the love of an older man, and that I imagine becomes a sort of addiction to that validation that only masquerades as love. Hell, Masami attributes much of what made her seem so interesting on the surface, her love of music, to this guy. She feels like she'd be nothing without him, and the way Kayako praised her, at least in the way she interpreted it, did nothing to dispel this fear. Which I think is really why she decided to go back, even though it would mean betraying the very girl whose love provided her an escape from it all.

Its an ugly truth, and its one that yuri media usually shies away from portraying, but it is explored with refreshing frankness and resolved with astounding maturity by the end of blue. And I think its the source material's status as "alternative" (I guess in Japanese parlance, Garo-inspired) manga, not to mention the movie's simply as an independent film, that allows it to break with genre limitations in this way. There's been tons of writing done on how yuri definitely presents a fantasy of the sapphic experience. Mainstream yuri's origins in Class-S still to this day often cause it to portray romances between women as fundamentally different, and inherently more pure, than those involving men, trapping them in a bubble of unassailable innocence. While that kind of makes sense and seems extremely cool to those of us who celebrate having little interest in moids or whatever, it also has the effect of sugarcoating and sometimes even outright obscuring what real women, even (and sometimes especially) sapphic ones, go through.

There's already a decent amount of yuri, especially among those aimed at older demographics and those where its more of a secondary genre, that do deal with compulsory heterosexuality and the experiences that come with it. What are much rarer are yuri series where one of the lover's flaws more resemble Masami's than Kayako's. Not enough that I've read at least is willing to make its relationships messy, or have one of its leads just do straight up bad things like self-destructive cheating and lying.

Because, really, its the same as what Kayako went through, isn't it? The lonely longing for something more that feels like it can only be cleansed by denying oneself all one has and betting it all on being close to someone else. The only difference between the two's actions is temperament and perhaps socialization--one sought it from a cooler woman, the other from an older man. And somewhere out of sight, that sad, irresponsible, fucked-up adult was probably hopelessly lonely, too, just like Kayako had to accept Masami was. Maybe disaster lesbians, disaster bisexuals(?), and yes, disaster straights aren't so different after all.

Well, other than that Kayako has worked to process her feelings, while Masami went and ruined her relationship over them. That's an important difference. Still, though, even Kayako has some work to do about how she feels about all of this. Masami's pedestal has been smashed, whether she likes it or not, and now she's lonelier than ever. So where does this vampiric cycle of taking from others end? What substance can replace loneliness in this ouroboros of etropic emotional alchemy?

Kayako doesn't touch the grapes. Instead, she silently processes things, lies on the floor listening to the cicadas scream in the garden. The grapes go rotten, and her brother throws them out. She sulks for a while.

Then, she starts painting. A still life of grapes, inspired by the books that Masami lent her. At first, her drawing is lousy, as the school fine arts instructor later tells her, but the colors are gorgeous. The deep purples of the fruits are expertly layered to capture light and tell a story, one deeper than the instructor could possibly imagine. It's the story not only of the transformation of a relationship, but of the growth of one of its participants. As the hot, still air of the coastal Japanese summer cloys around her lonesome final vacation of high school, Kayako finally salvages a passion to call her own out of a floundering relationship. When school starts again and she picks up art classes, going to Tokyo for uni, a dream that was previously held only by Masami, starts to be within her reach. She has a future, an interest, and a way to process all has happened to her.

And then comes the time for Masami to try and return. She proves unwilling to address all that happened before, instead trying to kiss Kayako after school in the art room. Her undeserved attempt at intimacy is rejected with a shove, but so too is her self-pity that causes her to instantly run away. There's more that needs to be said that simply "I'm a terrible person." Kayako pursues her into the town's small shopping district as night begins to fall and neon crackles to life against a cool late summer night. Now the emotional climax of the movie begins.

First, Kayako starts talking. She tells Masami about the painting, about her summer, about how lonely she was without her, about all the places she wanted to go with her. She talks about how happy she was at the same time that she found something she wanted to do without her. This approach is new for her. She's never so far relied on words so heavily to express her emotions. When Masami points this out, Kayako says:

This is how she's choosing to process things for the time being. At first, it was being silent to carefully consider her emotions. Now, its speaking up to keep them focused on what she really wants.

Then, its Masami's turn, for the first time, to tell the truth. By now they're away from the small cluster of lights, staring out at the blackness of the beach where they first got together. Masami broke up with the guy, she says. But she also asserts that she came to his emotional aid to begin with because she felt his need for help was more important than anything else to her. She couldn't tell her girlfriend this before, because doing so would mean telling a truth she didn't think Kayako could bear to hear: that he meant more to Masami than she did.

Kayako already knows this, of course. And by speaking up to quell her justified anger, by weaving words like the deft strokes of honest color on the tip of a paintbrush, she's gotten herself to a point where she can accept it, too.

I mean, think about it. Masami is broke now; Kayako needed to buy her a sandwich so she wouldn't be hungry on their impromptu date. Her sabotaging drive to be validated and her inability to accept love from the girl willing to give it has, by all accounts, ruined her life for the time being and harmed those around her. Even though she broke up with the guy out of necessity, or out of some fleeting impulse to run back to Kayako, she still feels like nothing without him. As she says to Kayako later, now the envy runs in reverse--Kayako is passionate about painting now, while Masami will still amount to nothing. Despite it all, though, Kayako is willing to love her. She's called Masami out on what she needs to be, then decided to stay nonetheless.

"I always come second. You broke up with him, so the number one spot is vacant. When someone else comes, you'll put him there...

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For most of my life, I believed that artistic expression was primarily the product of unrestrained, innate, and self-indulgent passion. I thought it was just something people either have or don't have, and that when they do, its something that can drive them to great heights of accomplishment and happiness otherwise impossible for humans to reach. It was mostly Japanese otaku media that instilled this into me, I think. I grew up exposed to a dizzying array of diverse and often miraculous artistic products that captured my imagination in ways the safe output of my own boring, monolithic home empire never did, and most of them were made by people who literally poured their lives into working on them. From Eiichro Oda's future-destroying, decades-long devotion to making One Piece to Kentaro Miura giving his life to practically paint the ceiling of the Sistene Chapel in pen on page after double-page spread in Berserk, to all of the hyper-passionate, universe-shattering early works of Hideaki Anno and his animator cohorts, I thought that I lived in a world of weird and wonderful treats whose cooks had the work ethic of demigods and the talent to match.

And even on the lower levels of the medium, among fan artists, cosplayers, writers, posters, historians, I felt surrounded by people who lived and breathed impossible passion, whose lives must have been defined by a kind of information processing my brain simply wasn't capable of. They had some ability to inhale the miraculous vapors of an abundant artistic landscape and spew out works of their own that further decorated the texture of a fleeting age of impossible marvels. And all that time, there I was, left on the sidelines, interested in many things but passionate about none, and lacking the motivation to really work to pursue anything at all. It was (and, honestly, still is) a state of existential discomfort similar to that sort of lonely-girl-pining, but doubtlessly far larger in scale. Some people had passion, while I had nothing to show for all my years of being alive. For fuck's sake, there was so much stuff out there, and I barely could muster the motivation to even read any of it most of the time.

After a while, I started to feel like I was simply broken, like I was an empty person that didn't belong in the very world I loved living in. And while I think this might be a niche outlook and insecurity (although one represented, to my profound gratitude, in Masami), I think it's also how a lot of people think about love. Love is often portrayed as a feeling sparked entirely of instinct, one that, when a person truly feels it, will never cause them to make any mistakes or do anything fucked up to those they care about. Something that will drive those bolstered by it to impossible heights, improve lives beyond the sorrow and loneliness to which they are otherwise condemned. But, as Kayako learned and as Masami and I are having to find out, that isn't really the whole story.

Expression is love. Love is process. Therefore, expression is also the labor of putting love through a process, of rigorously trying to get your ass in a seat and put in the steps of putting your feelings into form. As this is required of art, so is it required of relationships. And so the two are a cycle. Creation requires emotions to process; relationships require emotions to be processed. And the love that creation inspires feeds itself into the love for others that inspires the emotion to fuel more creation. A Labor of Love. Again, I know I'm New.

But this is what Kayako has been working up to all movie long, first with her silence, then with some words, then with the labor of painting, the iteration of getting better, then with more words again. She has found a slow cycle that is elevating her above her loneliness, a cycle that Masami helped create, and is welcome within, but that can, if need be, exist without her.

Love, labor, process. Expression, creation, process. Creating, processing, choosing...in the end, to do it all again. To stay with what--and who--you have labored to love. And that is the choice Kayako has made.

I have not yet answered what, after thinking and writing about this movie for days on end, might be the substance that can replace loneliness as fuel for the alchemical cycle of emotional taking and giving. By the end of the lovers' reunion, sitting by the road under the slowly-illuminating blue of a haphazardly-clouded dawn sky, Masami doesn't feel like she has an answer, either. She feels small and hollow, manipulative and weak. She's jealous of the coping strategy her own girlfriend has developed to deal with the effects of her bad behavior. So, in the end, what is she? What is there even left for Kayako to love?

I'll be honest, this feeling is so fucking real I get perilously teary every time I think about it. Because, for as much as I mused about Kayako's feelings resonating with me as a former and sometimes girl-piner, when it comes to my current relationship at age 22, it's Masami in whom I see myself most clearly and brutally. It's hard not to when she is the only representation in romance, let alone in yuri, I have seen so far who is as much of a fucking brat as I am at times. Whose tendency to sabotage her own relationship makes it so asymmetric that what her girlfriend feels appears almost one-sided, but whose love is real all the same. If she lacks process, talent, maturity, mystique, if no one is ever going to be good enough for her, then what at all does she have left?

The answer to all of this is the thing that lies at the core of her being, that makes her who she is. The source of her potential to express herself, the starting point of a process yet to fully begin. It's hard to see, but it's there. Its what makes her Endou Masami. And its what Kirishima Kayako loves the most.

It's color. It's the thing at the core of creation that can't be described with words, that forms the motivation for any process. Its the vivid purple of a painted grape whose intentional creation transcends deception and nurtures discovery. It's the blue of a dawning sky whose light guides two girls in messy, lopsided love back into each other's arms. It's Kirishima Kayako. It's Endou Masami. It's what everyone has, and it's all anyone has.

It's the source of love, its process, and its object.

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Eventually, Kayako has to leave for Tokyo. That's the decision that's best for her, and its a decision that, for the time being, will leave Masami behind in the countryside, hard at work on the process of learning to love herself. At the end of the film, she sends Kayako one final piece of proof of who she is. It's a painting of sorts, recorded on VHS, composed not of oil but of compressed light and sound. Stylistically, as the camera zooms in, it begins to resemble less Renoir and more Rothko: at first, its the beach, then, simply the point of the horizon, the area where the sea and sky meet. Its raw, not quite processed, pure color, vibrant blue, filtered and compressed into chunky, washed-out 800x600.

By way of description, "this is all I can do."

For years, I've struggled to believe that my emotions, hindered by depression and self-sabotage, have any value at all. As someone for whom love, passion, and expression have always felt difficult, even putting my thoughts down on a page, let alone drawing, painting, composing, or directing, has always seemed impossible. Recently, though, I've grown a lot. I've found the beginnings of a process learned to accept its existence. Both this process, and all the loves that go along with it, are often uncomfortable. They are painful and brutal and blissful things into which to pour the labors of communication and the torments of understanding. I've learned to process discomfort for the sake of creation, to create for the sake of love. It sounds cheesy, but again, I can't help what I wanted to write about.

I hope you'll join me as I find more new things and tough feelings I love to process on this account. There's so much more I'd love to say about blue, just for starters. I could talk about my undying appreciation for the work of Mikako Ishikawa, or how the shots in this movie are so gorgeous and evocative that I'd seen many of them before in "Japan in the 00s" vibes compilations.

But, until then, this is all I can do.

[mono-chromia]

Hey you're awesome and deserve nice hugs and snacks like maybe your favorite cheeses or candies! Thanks for gracing us fandom goers with your stories!!!

hey???? hey anon???????? what if i peed down my leg a little bit reading this??? what if i gave you all the money in my bank account???? what if i told you i do this for you and you alone????? you bet your sweet succulent ass i will eat a piece of cheese dedicated to you; the light of my life, my reason for existing, my tether to this mortal coil. I love you.

[androgynouspenguinexpert]

a snippet of THUSIA

“I… I shouldn’t have let this happen…” Monos mumbled, gently easing my cloak over the bolt and off my shoulders. It was quiet, but I heard them inhale sharply at the wound. Dark blood was seeping through my tunic and running down my arm, forming a pool on the ground beneath me. I tried to clench my fists, but only my good arm obeyed. The other one didn’t move, and I felt my fingertips going numb. 

[ladykailitha]

In the Midnight Hour Part 9

Still hard at work wrapping things up. I’m almost there, though. I’m thinking about 13 parts all total.

Also, I have times where I’ll come up with a line that I like and then I try to work into a story at some point. There is a line this part that I have been sitting on for nearly 5 years. And finally ST gave me a fandom to use it in. See if you can spot it. ;)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

*

Eddie was right, Vecna had been furious about trying to help Steve, but he was more angry that he had attacked that mob.

Steve had spent the day with Wayne before he was able to go home. Wayne had taken the time off from the factory to make sure Robin got to school and to make sure Steve was okay.

Wayne had also spoken to Hopper about the little mob. Thankfully the tape didn’t show who had come to Wayne’s rescue. So as far as anyone else knew, it was Steve and he had past out after the fight.

Hopper had tried to get Wayne to press charges, but Wayne hadn’t been hurt and Steve wasn’t talking so the police were forced to drop the issue.

Two nights later, Wayne called Steve. “I think I have the final piece to your puzzle Steve. It’s time.”

*

Steve got everyone together. Dustin, Will, El, Mike, Lucas, Erika, Max (they were gathered in her hospital room), Jonathan, Nancy, Argyle, Robin, Joyce, Hopper, even Murray and Owens were there.

“We’re ready when you are, sweetie,” Joyce told Steve gently.

“Who let Steve plan?” Mike asked.

“How about you listen,” Wayne growled, “before you go about passing judgment. It’s attitudes like yours that started a witch hunt for my nephew.”

Mike’s jaw audibly snapped shut.

“Right,” Steve said looking between Joyce and Wayne who both nodded encouragingly.

He pulled out the sword that Hopper had found in the Upside Down and laid it on the table in front of him. “This is how we kill Vecna.”

Dustin leaned forward and gasped in horror. “But that’s Kas’s sword!”

The younger boys looked at each other in shock and horror.

“No, it can’t be,” Will whispered. “That would mean that Vecna has found his Kas.”

Steve nodded sadly. “Henry Creel deliberately set up the murders to be around Eddie so that Eddie would sacrifice himself, to be reborn as the half vampire, Kas.”

“The jocks!” Robin cried. “There was a vampire!”

All but the adults cried out in recognition.

“What’s been going on with the jocks?” Hopper asked, folding his arms in front of his chest.

Jonathan spoke up from the corner. “All of the jocks were lethargic and pale. The school thought that had an epidemic of mono on their hands.”  

Joyce and Hopper shared concerned glances.

“It was Eddie,” Steve said softly. “I think only Robin and I cottoned on that it was a vampire after the first week.”

Robin frowned at him. “Did you know it was Eddie then?”

Steve shrugged. “I suspected. I thought Eddie was an hallucination at first.”

“Steve...” Nancy said softly. “Why didn’t you tell someone?”

Steve hung his head. “Because if I was then it meant I was important enough to be a threat.”

Everyone exchanged glances.

“Of course you’re a threat, Steve,” Max said from her bed. “Why wouldn’t you be?”

“Because I’m not smart like the rest of you,” Steve mumbled into his chest.

Wayne walked over to him and pulled him into a hug. “You’re no genius, Steve, but you’re plenty smart. And don’t let anyone tell you differently.” Wayne looked over Steve’s head to glare at Mike.

After Steve had calmed down, Wayne let him go. “Explain the rest of it, you’re doing fine.”

“Vecna is almost at full strength,” Steve continued. “He would let Eddie come visit me to haunt me, wear me down, feed on me.” He pulled his collar down to show the fading bite marks on his neck.

Dustin let out a pained cry. “That’s why Steve was sick! It wasn’t because of the mob. It was because Eddie fed from him. I thought he was our friend!”

Steve walked over to Dustin and hugged him tight. “It’s not Eddie’s fault. Vecna was starving him. Not letting him feed on anyone else. He lost control for a little bit, but he stopped. He could have killed me, but he stopped.”

“Vecna was starving Eddie?” Lucas hissed. “What the fuck?”

“Language!” Joyce said.

Lucas ducked his head as Erica snickered.

“They are connected somehow,” Steve explained, letting go of Dustin to stand back in the middle of the room. “And not just in the usual ‘step on a vine and wake him’ sort of way.”

Wayne nodded. “I figured it was something like that. I was getting emotions from Eddie that weren’t his.”

“Emotions?” Robin asked, tilting her head. “What do you mean?”

El started bouncing in her seat. “It’s really cool. Mr Munson is an empath!”

Wayne chuckled.

“Like someone who reads emotions like psychics read minds?” Will asked.

Steve snapped his fingers. “Just like that.”

“So what’s the plan?” Hopper asked.

Steve pulled out his bag and started handing out Walkmans. “Everyone gets one. And I mean everyone. You fill up a tape with your favorite songs. Even if it’s just one song on repeat, I want the whole tape filled. We don’t know who Vecna might target, so everyone gets one. Including the adults. I am not taking any chances.”

Everyone quietly took a Walkman and a cassette. El picked up one for Max.

“We’re going to close all three gates at the same time,” Steve said. “That’s going to cause the distraction we need to take Vecna down.”

“So we’re going to split up into groups again?” Dustin asked.

Steve nodded. “Only this time, an adult will be attached to each group. There’ll be five groups. El’s group which will consist of her Max and Erica, here at the hospital.”

“Do we need to get a tub of water?” Jonathan asked.

Wayne shook his head. “I’ve been working with her. She shouldn’t need it anymore, but I would suggest a parent and tub anyway to be on the safe side.”

Steve turned to Dustin. “Do you think your mom would be willing to help out?”

Dustin nodded.

“Each group will also have a walkie-talkie,” Steve continued. “I don’t want anyone out of communication. Ever.”

Everyone nodded.

“I also want everyone to give Wayne a small trinket to carry,” he said. “It has to be something you hold a strong attachment to.”

“I’m not giving anyone anything,” Murray said.

Steve looked over at him. “You wouldn’t have to, I won’t make it mandatory, but it will help in the fight with Vecna.”

Wayne smiled. “It’s so that I have a greater connection to you and your emotions.”

El cocked her head to the side. “It’s going to save Eddie.”

Suddenly there was shouting and talking over each other.

Steve let out a loud whistle. “It might. That’s the hope.”

Everyone quieted down.

He continued to explain the plan to them when he got to the end Robin frowned.

“Hold on,” she said. “Who’s going with you and Wayne to confront Vecna and Eddie?”

“No one.”

She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. “Like hell you are.”

Steve sighed and ran his hands over his face. “Please...”

“Yeah,” Dustin said and Steve sighed in relief, “because I’m going with him.”

“No!” Steve protested. “If this doesn’t work, I can’t protect you.”

“Which is why I’m going, too,” Robin said.

“I don’t want anyone else hurt,” Steve protested. “Wayne and I will handle it. I promise.”

“Steve,” Jonathan said quietly.

Steve’s head snapped his direction.

“You’re going to need them for Eddie.”

“I‒” he began but the words wouldn’t come. His shoulders slumped. “Yeah, okay.”

Hopper came up and put his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I know it’s hard to lean on other people when you’re so used to going it alone. But you’re going to have to start putting your faith in us. In all of us. We’ve been down this road before. Let us help.”

Mike looked over at Wayne before he turned to Steve. “Look, this sounds like a great plan and all. We defeat Vecna and save Eddie. Yay!” he said the last word sarcastically with a little wave of both of his hands. “But why are you doing this, Steve? We all remember you didn’t like the guy. Called him all sorts of names. Freak was a popular choice as was gremlin. So why?”

The room became so silent you could hear a pin drop, everyone waiting on baited breath for Steve’s response. The air thick with the awkwardness of the outburst.

“You’re right, Mike. But that was before I spent days trying to keep him safe from angry mobs and the Upside Down. And yeah, he’s still foul-mouth little gremlin, but he’s our foul-mouth little gremlin and we’re going to get him back.”

Mike nodded.

Steve turned to Owens for the first time. “How long will it take to get everything ready?”

Owens looked at his watch. “About twelve hours.”

Steve looked at his own watch and nodded. “I hope we make it in time.”

*

“Team Hospital, checking in, over,” Erica said over the walkies. She had been granted the use of the walkie-talkie because she was the only one that wasn’t going to be directly involved in any of the fighting.

“Check, over,” Steve replied.

“Team Byers, checking in, over,” Jonathan said for his team. Joyce was tasked with watching Will, so he was put in charge of communication.

“Check, over,” Steve repeated.

“Team Insanity, checking in, over,” Lucas said, but before Steve could reply. “Why the hell am I on team Insanity anyway?”

Steve laughed. “Because I need someone to keep them from doing something really crazy. And you are far more level headed than any of your friends.” And then as an afterthought. “Over.”

There was silence on the line for a moment before Lucas came back. “That’s fair, over.”

“Team Strike, checking in, over,” Nancy said. Mike couldn’t be trusted not to forget and Hopper was going to be busy.

“Check, over,” Steve said, he handed the walkie-talkie over to Dustin.

“Team Eddie, checking in, over.”

The other four teams all called back ‘check!’

Steve and his team had entered the Upside Down via the Creel House which was the gate that Hopper and the Wheelers were going to take down.

Steve looked back at Nancy and sighed. They had talked about their relationship and how it ended. Where it should go from there. They were different people with different outlooks in life and they were better off as friends.

But he still mourned the life they could have had. The life they would have had if Hell hadn’t decided to make itself a home in Hawkins.

He nodded to her and she smiled back.

“Go get your boy back,” she called.

Steve smiled.

Because that what he fully intended to do. Get his boy back. Whatever it took.

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12  Part 13

Tag List: @swimmingbirdrunningrock @panicatthediaz @renaissan-vvitch @grtwdsmwhr @chaoticlovingdreamer @savory-babby @thequeenrainacorn  @anzelsilver @estrellami-1 @steddieassheg0es @currently-steddiebrainrot @gregre369 @steddie-there @clumsywriter

[nervousmonolith]

Dragon fruit

Close ups

Taglist : @monachopsissssss @lefthandedbastard @getwoold @xpoolboy @apollos-boyfriend @purpledthots @pcbblebrain @orangekingfisher @pericrayola @sradoesnotexist @supertinytins @elstirne @bioluminescentfrog

[starseaweed]

Part two is here! It was originally just one big block of text that I’ve split into smaller sections, and this comes directly after the first piece so the previous part is very necessary for understanding what’s happening!

~

Despite his habits, Loud continued to survive, and so Mono and Six kept following him. Making sure to always stay out of sight, while getting to see many things. Monsters, like a large Adult that marched forward with boots even louder than Loud. And more not-Adults, two that died, and one that stayed with Loud for a little while.

Six had pointed at Loud and the one that stayed, comparing the pair to themselves. She seemed to think she was like the other not-adult, a woman with dark glasses and a cool temperament. Nose wrinkled under his bag, Mono had shaken his head. The woman had saved Loud from the Adults, just like how Mono saved Six many times.

Until Loud saved the woman, hurting himself in the process.

Six had folded her arms and smirked, but Mono was more concerned for their guide. They needed to keep moving, and Loud was their way forward. Without him, they had no defense against the twisted Adults that came by. And if he wasn’t going to move, they had to just continue on without him.

He seemed soundly asleep, at least for now. His body slumped and unmoving against the wall where the glasses woman had carefully laid him. Mono, still debating what to do, failed to notice Six approaching Loud. She kicked him once to see if he was still alive.

Turning around, Mono saw her standing right next to Loud’s boot and panicked.

“Oi…!” What are you doing?!

Six gestured. “…ahh.” He has weapons we can use.

Spreading his arms wide and pointing, Mono indicated, He’s still alive. Then he tilted his head. How would we use his weapons?! You can barely hold one of those round things!

“Fight.” She crossed her arms. He has lots of weapons. I’ll find something.

With that, she started poking around the unconscious not-Adult, and Mono sighed. Well, he had been wanting to pocket one of the keys Loud had held onto, plus the not-adult seemed firmly asleep. Shaking himself, Mono clambered out of the vent he’d been hiding in, and nervously paced up to Loud. Though the glasses woman had bandaged his wound, it still looked pretty serious.

Maybe this would be fine, after all?

As his partner started pulling out the ammunition from Loud’s weaponry, Mono started digging through numerous oversized pockets. He pulled out bundles of plants, spare ammunition, a knife… But where was the key? Staring up at the imposing not-Adult’s figure, Mono inhaled, and clambered on top of him.

“Oi!” Six gasped. Are you crazy?

He grunted in response as he peeled open a satchel. This was your idea! A little “Ah.” escaped his lips when he finally found the key.

Grabbing a weapon similar to the round exploding one she liked, Six did her best to motion while her arms were full. “Hey!” You got the stupid key. Let’s go!

“Okay.” I’m going, I’m going! Mono huffed, realizing that the fancy key wouldn’t fit under his coat like the others. He’d just have to carry it with both hands. As he slipped his way down Loud’s sleeping form, he kept a tight hold of it, right up until he dropped back to the floor.

The key clattered, and he bit his tongue.

With a groan, Loud shifted, his arm almost knocking into Mono.

“Ah!” Holding her new weapon tight, Six turned around. You dummy!

Mono fumbled with the key for a second, before picking it up and dashing in her direction. He could hear Loud mumbling something, before the not-Adult sucked in a breath.

“Ada?”

~

What do you think? I wanted to have Mono and Six communicating, but that clashes with the original games’ lack of dialogue. The heavy silence is a big part of the atmosphere, and the children had no one to teach them proper language, so they use mostly non-verbal ques!

First | Next

[b0y-artist]

Cuddly

"Y'know, I never expected you to be this...cuddly." a voice rang out in the middle of the night, stirring the boy beside him awake.

Mono sat up, taking a second to regain his senses, he wasn't going to lie and say that he wasn't a *little* upset he'd been woken up. Just because Seven was the one who woke him doesn't change that fact. Between the constant nightmares and dangers outside, sleep was getting harder and harder to come by.

Seven could feel those dark eyes glaring into him even with that paper bag on. He gulped. "Ah, sorry did I wake you?" Seven's voice was shaky as he spoke, subconsciously fiddling with whatever he could find, something he did whenever he was nervous.

Mono sighed. There's really no reason to stay mad, not when they had other things to worry about. "S' fine..." Mono slurred, Seven knew it wasn't though, they both did.

Seven was starting to feel bad about even speaking up in the first place. Until Mono's voice snapped him out of his guilt.

"At' was it you even said?"

Seven held back a chuckle at Mono's slurred speech. "I said you're more cuddly than I thought you'd be."

Since Mono insisted on wearing that damn paper bag all the time, Seven's had to rely on body language to understand how his friend was feeling, and by the way his shoulders slumped, Seven could tell he was disappointed.

"I-," Mono paused, looking down at the tattered blanket they were sharing. "You say that like it's a bad thing." He mumbled underneath his breath, almost too quiet for Seven to hear.

Seven felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, Mono didn't just sound disappointed, he sounded sad. Almost...hurt. But, why? What had Seven done?

Seven scratched the back of his neck. He really wasn't the best at comforting people, but he didn't want Mono to be sad. "It-its not a bad thing...it just...surprised me. No offense, but when we first met I thought you wanted to bite off my hand."

Mono's head popped up, almost as if in revelation, before he looked back down, holding his arm embarrassed. "Yeah...sorry about that. I've just–I've been through a lot."

Seven frowned, putting his hand on Mono's shoulder as a comforting gesture. "You can talk to me about it if you want. I-I mean if you don't want to, that's okay too. I just think you might...feel better if you do. I won't judge if that's what you're scared of,"

Anybody else would probably be unnerved at having two black cut out eyes look at you. But Seven wasn't, because he knew underneath that paper bag, Mono was smiling at him.