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thesunshinebunny · 3 years

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When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part VI)

Series Master list

pairing: canon Eren Jaeger x reader

content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)

summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?

Chapter summary: After weeks of tension and mutual pining, Eren and reader finally succumb to their most carnal and animalistic desires.

Word Count: 7.9k

His cold hands were still resting on my skin. The body heat of each of us was reversing until we became the temperature of the other. In what had been burning for a moment, now my cheeks felt cold, icy, the skin on my chest and hips began to feel discomfort and the wind that was blowing did nothing but make me shiver. Instead, Eren's hands became warm, pleasant to the touch, but uncomfortable and unsure at the same time towards my sanity. The fingers of his left hand were moving over my hip in an attempt to massage a bruise that had just risen above the bone, a bruise that I had just noticed when his hand moved slightly up my shirt to lay flat on my skin and flesh. His right hand, still positioned on my cheek, ran the few tears that continued to fall, just as the trail of the already dry traces that this salty stream had left behind disappeared.

The situation wasn’t comforting at all. The burning sensation and fever that had reigned over my body moments before, had dissipated like a bucket of cold water on a small fire. Now I was cold, stiff, shivering and with memories of previous years haunting my mind, memories that once were to be saved to treasure when we were all old and at peace, but now it seemed that they only brought sadness and misfortune.

My eyes were fixed, unseeing, on Eren's bare chest. His skin showed no signs of hits or bruises like mine, damn it, the only thing that could be distinguished was his beefy abs, worked for years, stained with dirt and a few tiny blades of grass stuck to them. I watched as his chest swelled with each inhalation he took, his breathing calmed, no traces of the hectic fight or the makeout session. My hands, already tired from continuing to maintain pressure, now I limited myself to moving my fingers from the inside and out of my palm, occasionally brushing Eren's pelvis with my nails. I stretched them out, letting my fingertips rest on his hip, the small leaves adhering to his skin tickled my fingers and with slight movements I took them out one by one and left them on the grass around us... Some of them stuck to my fingers because of the humidity and the mud accumulated on the rib.

I cleaned them with my palms, but noticing that they didn’t come off easily, I simply ran my hands through my pants, staining them even more with dirt, some leaves fell to the floor due to friction in front of the fabric, others were beautifully placed on the thighs, in U-shapes or even folded into a perfect spiral. Some even broke in two and left little green spots on top of the brown ones. Eren withdrew his hand from my cheek when felt my fingers and nails stop passing through his pelvis and began to play with the small leaves. His hand removed mine from my thighs and ran every trace of wet leaves to the floor in one simple, clean motion. Now that hand was the one that rested on the flesh of my left thigh, moving up and down, occasionally grasping the soft parts and squeezing them from time to time.

I placed my hands over my thighs again, this time over the connection between my legs and my hips, preventing some unseemly movement of Eren's hand from reaching that area without my consent. I fixed my eyes on these and just at that moment I could notice how pale they were, the bruises were still visible and the blood had completely dried, the knuckles were red and little skin began to come out as bruises began to form on top all the long fingers. My left wrist had received the same treatment, a huge bruise covered a large part of the ligament and the bone of the arm, it was even slightly displaced, probably dislocated, but I didn’t feel any pain, not even when moving it, even if it was a few centimeters. As for my right hand, I had only received a few blows on the knuckles, the occasional broken fingernail, but without showing the lower flesh.

My palms, well, I don't know if I could call them palms anymore. I turned both hands to check them and the sight didn’t make me feel better, it only made me relapse into the realization of how mistreated my body was; both were full of dirt, green spots, the product of the viscous liquid that the broken leaves left, and dried blood, apart from the large superficial cut on the right palm. They looked like shit, I have to admit. I let out a long sigh at such a miserable image. My eyes burned, but I couldn't give myself the freedom to close them because I knew that if I did, more tears would shoot out.

"Hey" Eren's hand that was for minutes massaging my hip was placed under my chin and raised my head once more, without heaviness or restrictions on my part.

My view was blocked by his long fingers, which like his torso, didn’t show any sign of injury or bruises, except for a few small traces of dried blood, my blood. I couldn’t see with complete clarity if his fingertips were equally stained, I tried to turn the head to where he was caressing me a few moments ago to find some indication of blood or injury, but Eren prevented me by bringing my face back to his, lifting it more and bringing it closer to his eyes. They were the same as I had seen them a few minutes ago, greyish turquoise and glowly. God, that glow, that damn glow. Within all possible situations, in any place, they had to return to shine here and now. It wasn’t fair.

It wasn't fair at all.

I directed my hands to his face, placing each one on his cheeks and cradling him between them. I couldn't tell if the action caught him off guard, what I can say is that I could feel, for a thousandth of a second, his eyes widen at the touch. Color that had been lost for months had returned for a moment, as a small blush on his cheeks. For a moment, I swear for a moment, the Eren I knew was back. My eyes inspected his, trying to find that color that I had spotted, trying to find a sign of the Eren that I had loved so much, a sign that he was still there, hidden, curled up like an infant before the oh so many shadows surrounded him.

"You have beautiful eyes" It was a cruel reality but true in the same way.

His eyes were always one of his most impressive features I had ever noticed from a person. Huge, with a lot of accumulated life, a strong and bright color, unable to take my eyes off them. Those same eyes that brought security were the ones that made me doubt my actions and generated deep sadness in me; Those eyes that once made me tremble with exaltation now made me cry.

It was the same eyes that I had lost myself in on a hot sunny day at the cabin along with Levi and our little squad. That spring day, pollen in the air, the cabin full of dust and cobwebs, the boys doing their homework, while Eren and I were cleaning up. Each one cleaning in our small space, without speaking to us unless necessary, such as asking for help to move a piece of furniture if one couldn’t, or ask for the cleaning tool the other had to clean a small cobweb under a window frame. The dirty and torn glasses, in need of a delicate hand that could remove all traces of the excessive abuse during the years that this small home was disabled. I decided to clean all glasses on the lower level, leaving Eren to clean the door on both the outside and inside.

As I was cleaning the window closest to the front door, I noticed how the frames were starting to crack, a few splinters coming to the surface and being capable of injuring anyone who was not careful enough. I ran the rag through a fairly open crack, trying to remove as many splinters as possible, even dislodging the broken piece out of the frame entirely. Little by little the wood was detaching, some pieces stuck to the skin of my fingers, others fell right on my feet, and when I was finally able to completely detach the broken piece, I left it on the table in full view of all of them, so that when someone re-entered the cabin, I could warn them of the care with the respective window.

I decided to investigate more parts of the frame to see if I found more loose pieces when out of the corner of my eye I saw a figure move outside the window. During my little out of all reality I had completely forgotten that Eren was cleaning right on the other side of the wall. I could see him perfectly from where I was standing. His arms, while long compared to mine, didn’t reach up to the wood of the door, having to stand on tiptoe and stretch a little to reach the dust that had accumulated in that area. His hair gathered in a cloth, preventing dirt from falling on it, made a funny image at the same time... almost cute. His young face, now half covered with the cloth, was getting younger and the way in which he stretched, reminded me of the image of a little boy in the middle of the bazaar of my town trying to reach a basket of cookies without the mother found out.

But it was neither his figure nor the way his hair was flattened and took that shape little by little, but the way in which the sunset sun reflected exactly on his eyes, turning them a lush green, much lighter and more colorful. Although his eyes were directed towards the door, I could see them without complications; I could see his eyelashes rise up and the smallest of the ends bent and tangled between them, I could see the small shiny points turn a warm color while the clean wood of the door was reflected in the iris.

At some point, I opened the window outward, allowing me to stretch my body and settle on the lower wood, resting my abdomen and elbows, holding my head in my hands as I watched the incredible scene in front of me. The sun's rays hit Eren's body, giving him an orange ring of light over his entire figure, the cloth about to come loose and fall from his head because of how badly tied it was and his hands were dirty while also being delicate when holding the rag between his fingers, perhaps an act Levi had taught him while he was alone in his squad.

The rag slipped from his hand and the moment he reached down to grab it, his face turned straight to mine, allowing me to see his eyes much more conspicuously. The play of light and shadow, the way that nature itself reflected in them was the greatest work of art that I had ever seen, perhaps it was due to the fact that I hadn’t seen many people with green eyes, much less with that tonality. of green that Eren had inherited. What beautiful eyes. I thought I had said it to myself, but apparently I had unconsciously let it out in a slight sigh, as Eren raised his head in less than a second, straight at me. His eyes were wide and his face reflected surprise.

Those eyes in which I had been spellbound for long minutes were staring at me, penetrating strongly on mine, as if looking for a sign that his owner had clearly heard what the wind had brought to his ears.

"What? Did you get lost in my incredible eyes? " his humorous words and his wicked smile were what brought me back to reality. They were like an open hand spanking across the face.

My face was decomposed for a moment, eyes open and my mouth ajar, even my hands stopped supporting my head causing me to almost fall to the ground. I tried to compose myself as best I could, fixing my shirt, eliminating the wrinkles that had formed from being with my torso on the uncomfortable wood, and pulling some hair that had fallen over my eyes to one side.

"Yeah, you wish" I threw my body back and stretched out my arm to close the window, but not before giving him a half smile and admiring his eyes for the last time before going back to work.

Now I was in front of those eyes once more, with that memory stabbing a knife in the middle of my heart and mind, but with my body being drawn to them like that hot spring day.

I brought my face close to his, one hand running through his hair while the other roamed his chapped, swollen lips. The moment felt soft, calm, even though the weight on our shoulders was harder and more invasive. His hand on my chin was now caressing my neck lightly, as if he were passing a feather over my jugular, the hand that had been caressing my leg, now had placed on my lower back, stretching the fingers and feeling the greater amount of skin under his as much as possible. We both leaned forward and when our lips met again, time seemed to melt.

This time, there was no fight between our lips, there was no resistance, we just dedicated ourselves to melting into each other along with time. Everything felt delicate, Eren's touch on my back, my fingers on his scalp, his hand on my neck pulling me closer to him. Chest to chest, an almost impossible union for less garments that both of us had on, but still it was enough to feel the beating of the other's heart. No heartbeat was neither too fast nor too slow, they were just in perfect harmony, it was… perfect.

I could feel his lashes brush against mine with every turn of the head I took to sink the kiss, his locks tickling my cheeks, and his tongue, intrusive as it was, was welcome. My senses intensified, causing me to wrap myself in a sea of sensations and little by little the current took me to the deepest waters, feeling how the weight of my body was getting smaller and smaller, as if my body itself made smaller.

I felt vulnerable and it was the same Eren who brought these senses to the surface, the same one who could put them in a bottle, throw them into the sea and lose them in the waves, at the same time that he could bring them back with the simple movement of his hand.

We parted ways to reconnect once more, this time harder and needy. His hands were placed on either side of my waist, pulling me closer to him with more force, connecting our torsos even more and bumping our hips. I groaned when I felt his crotch against mine, I was perfectly positioned on him and every feverish kiss, every movement, made me grind on him. His tongue ran through my mouth as if it were the last time he would do it, it felt abrupt, as if a prayer was taking place, wishing that we would never disconnect from each other. He ran through every part of me, colliding with mine even my teeth, he was desperate and it showed. His teeth took my lower lip between them, biting and tugging slightly, giving me the perfect opportunity to elicit a guttural moan as I felt his cock already erect against my entrance.

He took my mouth back into his, sliding his hands down to the soft flesh of my ass, each hand over the round cheeks, and squeezed, marking his fingers hard over them. He took the opportunity to guide me on his cock back and forth, movements slow but accurate and hard, each grind felt like fire on my center, traveling up my back towards the brain. I was beginning to feel light in the head, my coherence was clouded and the only thing I could think was more, more, more.

At this point I just grunting at every grind he made me do, lifting me slightly to come down again and position myself even closer to his crotch. I bit his upper lip in an attempt to stifle a moan as I felt a wet spot begin to form in the middle of my pants and his dick leaning right in that same spot.

"Don't keep the moans to yourself" he lifted his lips from mine and moved down from my cheek to my neck.

I kept grinding on him involuntarily, no longer with his help, but still feeling his colossal hands squeeze my ass and hold me steady in my movements. He didn't want me to stop and honestly, I didn’t to stop either. The pressure I felt on his dick was too much, even his lips would detach from my skin from time to time, releasing small but notorious grunts, given the pleasure that this simple but filthy action generated to us.

"Fuck, Eren" I moaned as I hit his pelvis once more, this time harder than before. I felt him chuckling as I noticed how my moans began to come out of my vocal chords, with no intention of stopping. The friction felt delicious, we were both getting off with each other without even being in the main event.

My fingers tangled in his hair, drawing his face impossibly closer to my neck. I felt his lips leave a thin wet line on the hollow of my clavicle and sting lightly with his teeth. His hands couldn't stay still, the more friction we generated, the more I grinded on him, the more they moved through my body; they passed over my thighs, my back, the sides of my stomach to my chest.

I expanded my chest on the touch of him, preparing myself for what was to come, letting out a groan as I felt his fingers reach the limits of my nipples. They were a little cold and generated a perfect contrast with the heat that began to emanate from within, starting to make my nipples erect under his fingertips. Took one between his two fingers and the heat that was gradually forming in the tip of my stomach was getting bigger. The need for him not only generated great pleasure on my fibers, but also impatience, Eren was characterized by being a damn teaser when it came to sex.

His fingers eased my poor, swollen nipple and pulled my shirt off my shoulders, leaving only my leather suit like Eren, both now in direct contact with our body heat. The shirt fell to the ground at the same time that his lips were detached from my neck, he dedicated himself to arranging the shirt on the grass while still having me straddling him. The same happened with his jacket and shirt, which had been much closer to us than I had imagined. The three garments made a poor case of cover on the grass, but that was enough for Eren to roll me onto his back and settle on top of me.

Lips against lips, hands running over each other's body, savoring on our fingertips the heat of the skin, each muscle and bone marked, the hair of both getting tangled up in the environment, spread over the fabric in my case or Eren's falling towards my face if not spread over my fingers.

Eren settled to the side, leaving a small space between us, and let his hand run over my stomach, slowly, delicately, roaming around my entire torso until it reached my hips. His hand stopped to explore, feeling the bones outlining the body and the beginnings of the legs. His touch was so soft that he even tickled me. His fingers reached a sensitive area, drawing little giggles against my lips, but Eren's intentions weren’t to make me laugh and they were more than clear. Noticing my giggles climbing, he took the opportunity to reach under my pants, even under my underwear. Now the giggles were transformed into moans and sighs when I felt his finger brush my most needy area.

He was starting to burn, little beads of sweat were forming on the back of my neck and forehead, and he wasn't being fair at all. His finger was just brushing, again, and again, and again through my center, giving me the necessary pleasure to moan in his mouth, but never enough. It wasn't enough and Eren knew it, he was torturing me in the most delicious and infuriating way he knew. I guided my hand to his, undoing the buttons on the stained pants, now having more space and comfort, and placed it over his, applying just enough pressure for him to realize how needy I was.

And it worked. Eren heeded my silent prayer and inserted a finger, coming into contact with my wet walls. I moaned as I felt his finger slide slowly inside, his simple finger never fails to make me see stars and this case was no different. It's pumping slowly, too slowly, too much. This was no time for delicacies. The tip brushed the right places, driving the heat in my stomach to expand more, more and more.

"Eren" I growled hoping that my pathetic voice carried enough prayer to give me what I needed.

Eren inserted another finger, twisting it and applying more pressure to my sore spot. I felt like my body was becoming lighter as the pleasure was taking possession. Each twist, each impulse, each pressure was like an electric shock on my spine that ran through the veins and spread throughout the body, until there was no space left untouched. My back arched as I felt both fingers brush against my sweet spot, making Eren giggle over my ear.

"How do my fingers feel inside?" he whispered dangerously into my ear, biting the lobe and generating a new electrical reaction over me.

It was impossible for me to speak, the only thing that came out of my mouth were moans after moans. My free hand went to Eren's neck, I pulled him as close as I could to my face. My gaze was cloudy and narrowed, it was difficult to maintain control. His eyes were not on mine, rather they were on my crotch, seeing how his fingers disappeared without difficulty inside me and came out again and again, wetting them in the process. I tried to draw him to my lips to avoid giving an answer to his question, which had entered one ear and left the other. His fingers wreaked havoc inside me and every time I tried to open my mouth to answer, a new moan came out, making me impossible every second. I was sure that if this continued, I would end up forgetting the question.

"Say it or I'll stop and I'll leave you naked for others to find you" his voice had deepened, and being so close to my ear it only generated more vibrations under my spine.

My head was spinning, trying to formulate an answer before stammering it. It was difficult considering that his fingers had picked up the pace, moving in and out of my hole with a steady rhythm and able to propel my body along with them, and his breath over my ear and neck.

"It - ah - it feels good" it really felt good, I hadn't felt this good in months.

My answer made him smile, apart from twisting his fingers once more before applying pressure to my weak point. I couldn't tell if what came out of my mouth was a moan or a scream, or perhaps a guttural groan, but what I was sure was the fact I was close, too close, to cum. I felt like that heat at the tip of my stomach expanded more, almost without having more space in my body to expand. I was close, my legs twisting on the clothing, spreading it and disarming the covering, and just as I was about to feel the long-awaited launch, it stopped. The damned bastard had stopped.

My eyes went wide at the desperation in my body to break free. Internally I was screaming, I was angry but the trembling of my legs and my arms didn't let me do much. He wanted to curse him, ask him a thousand and a few things, demand an explanation of why in his right mind, if he still had one, it occurred him to stop. Before I could utter a word, Eren straightened up and placed his hands on my hips, exactly above the limits of my pants, squeezing them firmly but gently. I looked at him expecting him to do something, but when he didn't move after a few seconds, I looked up at his. He was looking directly at me, and he was the one waiting for a signal to continue.

I swallowed hard, placed my hands over his and guided them down, raising my butt just enough that we could remove the annoying garment. In our rush and clouded heads, we didn't realize that the shoes were still on, the pants got stuck, and we only realized our mistake when we couldn't get it down after multiple fussing. We turn our gazes to the pants, then to us. We started laughing, it was like reliving our first time, clumsy, inexperienced, but at the same time funny and careful.

Eren shed my shoes, trying to caress my legs every time the worn leather slipped off me. From so much being using them for two days in a row, using them not only for walking and treating patients, but also for running where they shouldn't be used, the leather had stuck to my legs, marking them and leaving blisters and bruises from the knees to the toes. Eren ran his hands over each one, being extra careful when he came across a blister or where the flesh was hot red. He stroked each mark that had formed on the skin, running down to his ankles, lifted my right leg over his shoulder, and began to kiss those same marks around my foot. The kisses were soft, as if it were the skin of a newborn baby, his strong but secure hand held the inside of my leg and massaged the area, which I had not realized how tense and beaten it was until I stared at the scene Eren was putting on.

Between that tour inspecting the discomfort in my leg, my eyes were at the mercy of Eren's, feverish and dark. My gaze, my half-parted lips and my ragged breathing was what Eren needed to place my other leg on his other shoulder and massage both equally, giving the same treatment that he gave to the right leg to the left. Now with half my body suspended in the air, I couldn't help but think about the notorious wet spot that surely had left seconds behind thanks to the excitement. I could feel it stick right in the middle of my crotch.

Without taking his eyes off mine, his fingers slowly descended to the strap of my underwear and slowly slid it over my legs until they reached my ankles. I pulled my legs away from his shoulders and pulled them together so he could peel off the fine fabric and discard it somewhere on the grass. My heart was beating uncontrollably in my chest, like I was about to shoot out. After Eren got rid of that miserable garment, I reconnected his lips to mine, stretching and spreading my legs so I could position myself between them. The kiss was short but effective, pulling me out of any thoughts that might have appeared without permission.

I felt Eren's hand on my leg, cupping below the knee and going palm down toward my ankle. His lips were now kissing my sternum, pressing gently on my rib cage. He looked at me, trying to find ... any reaction? Doubt? But there were none. I let my head fall back, letting my hand run through his hair as he roamed my chest and stretched my legs even more with his hands. Every now and then he bit my light skin with his teeth, generating gasps and grunts from me; Reactions that went straight to his cock, still covered and leaning against my core.

I raised my hips to connect with his dick, receiving a gasp from him as a groan escaped me as I felt him hard and throbbing against me. I hadn’t realized that Eren was just as excited as me, his kisses made thinking much more complicated, each pressure from his mouth made the knot in my lower stomach become more present. He went down, leaving a path of kisses for each part of my skin, until he reached my crotch and reached back to see how his work was reflecting in me.

He brought his face in front of where I needed it most and without being able to say anything to him, not even asking what I wanted, he leaned forward; I could feel how his eyes were fixed on me, his gaze penetrating and even if I wasn’t looking at him, I knew that he was observing every reaction, involuntary or not, on my face and on my body. He was so close that I could feel his breath on me, I waited patiently to feel his mouth on that area, but my mouth opened wide when I noticed that his tongue had gone directly to my thigh, giving it a long and wide lick against my fold.

He knew what he was doing, he knew it very well, and he knew he wasn't going to stop until he got what he wanted. Between licks, he gave himself the opportunity to bite the inside of my thigh, making me moan and, according to what he had told me once, were sweet and addictive.

"Eren-" my voice was half out when I felt his tongue pass my core.

He gave a long lick, not once but twice. My hand settled on the back of his head, trying to draw him closer to me. My fingers applied too much force just as my legs involuntarily closed over his head, crushing it against my thighs. He felt warm and soft, softer than his fingers, but at the same time it wasn't enough. It was not a virtue of me to be patient and knowing him, I knew that he would torture me and tease me until I was left as a wet and needy bundle, begging for a release. I was writhing and shaking, my thighs crushing his head more and more with each passage of his tongue as the arousal spread over my stomach.

He raised his hand to my chest, pinning me to the floor as he left cat licks on my crotch, the other instead going to his underwear, running it down far enough to remove his dick. In my damn delusion, he was preparing me to feel his fingers enter my wet hole again, but Eren had other plans. He grabbed the back of my thighs and wrapped them around his waist, positioning himself in between and letting his cock rest between my stomach. He moved his hips forward, giving him all the pleasure against my skin. I looked at him, my lips apart, releasing long sighs, waiting for him to move a little more or turn his attention back to me, avoiding giving his sweet toss a second time.

He guided the tip of his cock towards my entrance, trying to insert it without a little preparation before. Okay, I was wet, but the situation was getting unfair at any moment. Not only unfair, but also too fast and violent. He lunged in, making me scream at such intrusion, instead he groaning as he slid his cock through my walls.

"Fuck" he growled as he placed himself completely inside me.

After weeks, months, without any interaction, or anything like it, the feeling was overwhelming. My muscles flexed at his grip, fluttering around his throbbing, venous cock, his raspy, low voice continuing to send tingles around my spine. I didn't have time to fully adjust to him, moving quickly on top of me, thrusting in and out at a fast pace, hitting the areas most in need within me. It was pleasant, but it hurt, and discomfort outweighed pleasure.

"Wait, just-wait a minute" I tried to sound straight but his shoves clouded my mind, at the same time that they tensed my body, immobilizing me.

I brought a hand to his chest, trying to stop him, but I only made his thrusts go deeper, more intense from him.

"I said wait a fucking minute!"

I reached forward, now both of us face to face, without any bond between our bodies. My hands formed into fists and went straight to his shoulders, pushing him backwards, staying within the limits of our clothes. Without waiting a second, I straddled him, taking his cock right under my entrance. I felt it throbbing, spasming, the heat that emanated from my crotch was enough for him to growl through his teeth. I guided my hand to where our hips met, lifting a little to reach his cock without complications. I could feel every one of his prominent veins on the palm of my hand, it was radiating heat and starting to leak pre-cum from the tip. I ran my thumb through his veins, going from the base to the tip torturously slow. Pumping his cock firmly, examining his reactions; I felt like my ego was inflated when I saw him with his lips parted, moaning on my hand, it was like having him at my complete mercy. To be honest, seeing him in that state, needy, slowly breaking apart beneath me, was the boost I needed to completely destroy him, as he had broken me. I felt powerful and all I needed was to get his dirty cock in my hand and give him a hand job to have him like a wet stray dog.

But ... as I said before, patience was not my virtue, so just as quickly I had started pumping him, I quickly carried him towards my core, sliding his cock back inside, moaning down my throat as I did so. The way his body trembled at the feel of my walls contracting was delicious.

"Fuck you're so tight," he moaned with his jaw open.

Now it was me who created the rhythm, each thrust I took increased the speed slightly. I stood on his shoulders, moving my palms between his collarbone and his neck, I didn't know what to do with them and I couldn't keep them still. The excitement was building very well and my body was responding on its own. Eren placed one hand on my hip, helping me maintain my thrusts, while the other positioned himself in the crook of my neck, bringing my forehead against his.

"You like this, uh? Do you like to be fuckingthe damn traitor of the country?"

I did nothing but moan at such a vulgar comment, but worst of all, they had reached my crotch; my walls had twisted when I heard him so close to me. My voice had caught in my throat, suffocating me, nothing else came out of my mouth but combinations between moans and grunts. Eren seemed to like it as he began to move more vigorously, he sheathed himself completely inside me, opening his mouth to moan under his breath as he bottoms out.

"You feel so good baby, so so good, my good little baby"

I was tighter than other times, maybe the situation, maybe the position, but fuck the reason, it felt so, so good. I buried my face in the hollow of his shoulder to keep my moans from coming out more prominent, the way his cock settled inside me and brushed every wall virtuously made my body shudder and my eyes go blank. A thrust that touched my sore spot and pulled me closer to Eren at the way he thrust, made me bite his shoulder, hard and deep.

Eren let out a groan as he felt his skin break open and begin to bleed, I could feel the taste of iron on my mouth. It hadn't been my intention to hurt him, but I couldn't control my strength or the way my hips circled as the thrusts picked up speed.

He reached out his hand to grab my hair and bend my neck back, exposing my face to him.

"Shit, that's it baby, mount that cock, I know you like it" the way our hips moved up and down and back and forth in a fiery way until they reached the flush of butt made me shudder. The way he was buried in me seemed like he was trying to reach even deeper, trying to reach my stomach; and it was right there where I felt it most. "I know you love it, you always loved it"

Every movement of him in and out was majestic, it was the best I had felt in months, even better than our previous times. His movements grew steadier, faster, and harder. I felt my body tense up completely, I arched my back against him and kept moving my hips faster, having more friction to work with as I felt the orgasm reach me.

“Are you gonna cum? I can feel your walls tightening"

I nodded my head repeatedly, unable to formulate a word. Eren captured my mouth with his, moving us both at a speed I would never have imagined, our skin colliding over and over and over. The only thing around us was the rapid slapping of skin against skin, the dirty sound of my hole taking him so well, squeezing him more and more.

A strong thrust was what I needed to collapse. I screamed, not caring if anyone was near to listen. Eren's name slipped from my lips repeatedly, as if I was saying a prayer and he alone was my salvation. My back arched again, my hands went to his hair, tousling it and letting brown strands fall over his forehead. My body felt light, much lighter, as if the stress had been released along with the orgasm. I creamed on Eren's cock and his thighs, our legs were wet and my spasms moved any liquid in different directions over our bodies.

In my bliss I hadn’t realized that Eren had never stopped moving, the difference was he’s now going in and out more slowly, much more slowly than we had started.

While we were going slow, I was completely sensitive, and the more thrusts Eren made, the overstimulation took my body by leaps and bounds. No longer moans came from my mouth, but small and soft whines every time he buried himself inside me.

"I love you" his voice came out as a sigh, even lower than that, but loud enough for me to hear.

He froze me a second time, it was already becoming a bad habit on his part. His words were like a dagger to the heart, one that stabbed me over and over and over again. I felt my chest begin to ache, but our movements never stopped. Eren kept pounding against me, like he wanted to accompany his movements with his "sweet" words. My nails dug into his shoulders, trying to dissipate the emotional pain from my chest to the physical pain above him.

"Shut up" I tried to speak still with my head turning thousands of times, avoiding letting out a moan.

His cock kept pounding in just the right places, the rhythm our bodies kept was too sweet, my still erect nipples brushing against his chest, generating more friction than he wanted. His lips still on my neck, each thrust was an open kiss on the jugular.

"I love you" again. There were those filthy words again, words that I needed to have been told months ago, even weeks just as we were returning from Marley. I didn't need them when we were in the middle of a heated sex session in the middle of the woods.

"Stop lying" I bit my lower lip as I felt my walls begin to contract.

We weren't moving at the speed I wanted and that was making me hysterical. I tried to move at my own pace, to move my hips over his pelvis and have the friction that I badly needed to cum, but Eren stopped me. He had a strong grip on my hip and no matter how many inches I moved, he would bring me back to the original position, torturing me with his slow step. His lips moved up to my cheek, giving me a small kiss before moving again and pushing me against him, both of them being chest to chest.

Another kiss, and another, and another. Each one to the rhythm of our tapping.

"I'm not lying" Eren moaned into my ear, reaching for my hair and pulling it back. His mouth now close to mine, a few millimeters closer, reaching out to kiss me.

"SHUT UP! ... please ... shut up" I pulled him away from me, throwing him to the floor, now I was on top of him.

His face twisted as he hit the ground and he closed his eyes due to the pain on his back. My hands were on either side of his head, giving me more room to settle in and examine his face perfectly. A small layer of sweat had formed on his forehead and the root of his scalp, little hickeys he had left behind, which were already fading, and his hair was already completely matted; What was once a bun, now it barely held a few strands, leaving the vast majority of the hair down and spilling over the clothes.

His eyes widened again when I placed my hands on his cheeks. His gaze was the same as always, perhaps he was showing a little sadness, or perhaps fatigue.

Please, just ... don’t

"…okay"

I began to move my hips again in a slow, gentle circular motion, trying to rebuild the mood. We maintained eye contact, neither of us wanted to stop looking at the other, even though our eyes narrowed for the little pleasure. My mouth parted as I started to increase my speed, but still going slowly, without having any hint of speed or exasperation in my movements. It was sensual, tender… desperate. His cock went in and out without difficulty, feeling it on every wall, noticing how it began to twist and get bigger as my walls tightened.

My hands didn't hold me for long, ending up collapsing on his chest. Eren never took his hands off my hips, now they helped me keep up, occasionally massaging the softness of my butt cheeks. I moaned as I felt the tip of his cock reach my deepest spot repeatedly.

One of his hands went straight to the back of my neck and squeezed, drawing me to him and capturing my mouth. His thrusts were increasing in speed and hardness, the rhythm already lost and our kisses sloppies and disheveled.

“Fuck-I’ m…”I spoke between kisses, unable to articulate words between his thrusts and his lips didn’t detach from mine. I wasn't going to last long, I knew it. Eren groaned at hearing my shaky voice and his breathing became faster.

"I know, cum again baby, cum on this cock" our hips moved in unison at a rhythm impossible to explain, if there was a rhythm to begin with. We were going fast, but at the same time slow, we tried to impact our weak spots with each other. We avoided separating, even grew closer, as if we were about to merge. Eren was holding me against his chest as close as possible.

The knot in my stomach, that familiar feeling, accumulated and began to expand in a gigantic way, my eyes narrowed but able to see the height of Eren in his eyes, as well as mine reflected in them. "Please, cum with me"

It was all I needed. My walls contracted and fluids began to flow out of my core, soaking us both and leaving a mess not only on our bodies, but also on our clothes. I moan his name in that moment of ecstasy, wasted, tired and satisfied. Eren, still at his prayer, followed me shortly after, shooting in and his heat filling me completely. His body tensed for a few moments beneath me, his hands circling my back and head as he continued to spread his cum inside me.

I felt him shooting each load, filling me up really well. I kept contracting, still gasping for air and shaking, but neither of us had any intention of separating, much less Eren of coming out. After weeks of languishing a bit of peace, as much as the situation wasn’t the right one, we had both found it. I rested my cheek on his chest, listening to his racing heart and allowing his fingers to wrap around my hair.

We were calm, only our breaths were heard around and our hearts trying to return to their normal rhythm. I relaxed when I felt his hands caress me in the same way that he had caressed me in our previous times, it was that kind of caress that allowed you to stay all the time in the world in the arms of your loved one. They were those caresses that I had longed to receive, the same ones that I was afraid of being used against me and confusing me more than I already was.

Eren gave me a light kiss on the temple, massaging my lower back and still keeping me close to him. I let him cradle me to his chest for a while longer, realizing that the moment we changed, we would be back on our own sides, ready to continue fighting for what we believed was fair.

This time, only this time, I would let myself be carried away, even to the point of being unconscious in his arms and succumbing to a much needed sleep.

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emotionalgirl101 · 4 years

Text

Question | Chapter 8

Words: Genre: college au, angst, fluff Pairing: SKZ x reader Summary: Your best friend, Minho, had been refusing to introduce you to his other group of best friends for months now, with no explanation as to why. One night after getting drunk after work together, he gave in to your pleas. Oops. Warning: Contains mature content (such as coarse language, violent themes, etc). A/N: Finally, being the new longest chapter to date and tedious as hell to edit, chapter 8 is up! Fun fact: this was originally still part of chapter 7, but I felt like it was dragging on too long and it was right to end where it did. This was saved as ‘Chapter 7.5′ even afterwards. There is also still more of this that I really want to flesh out, too, so what was originally written as chapter 8 is now chapter 10! Anyways, please enjoy and I love you guys! Question Masterlist

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You made it back to your apartment by about 5:10pm. The walk seemed faster than usual. Maybe it was just the upbeat music you chose to play that caused you to walk a little faster. Fiddling with your keys, you entered your apartment. Props to your past self because everything was pretty much ready to go. Except for you, obviously.

You ditched your phone, keys and purse on the counter top of your kitchen bench, moving into your bedroom to find some comfy, yet presentable clothes. You wanted to be prepared for the possibility of having to leave the house at some point in the night. You and Eunwoo have gone for a late night walk before, so it could happen again. You heard your phone buzz from in the kitchen.

A pair of activewear leggings and an oversized tee was good enough for you. You'd probably throw a hoodie over it all, anyway. All that was left to do was brush your teeth, pack what remained of your toiletries, make sure your chargers were all in the bag, then grab everything you needed to bring from the kitchen before you headed through the door. It sounded like a lot, but considering you were driving to Eunwoo's, you had enough time and a little extra.

You were staring at your reflection in the mirror as you brushed your teeth, considering doing something with your hair when you heard something from the kitchen. You moved into the main area of the apartment, realising it was you phone notifying you that you still hadn't responded to it when it initially sounded off.

You picked it up off of the counter and made your way back to the bathroom sink. You were kind of surprised to see a text message from Jae. Less about it being from Jae, more so what it was about.

Jae: Hey are you going to Chan's party on Friday.

No. You weren't invited. That didn't particularly bother you, but the question opened up a whole new stream of thought for you to process while you finished brushing your teeth. At it wasn’t exactly positive.

You could understand not being invited by Chan for multiple reasons. You'd only met once, well, twice. That was accidental though, and it was with Jae. Was that why Jae asked in the first place? Chan is a mutual friend, but you barely knew him. You only knew him through Minho. The thing is, Chan is such a genuinely nice guy and has seemed to enjoy your company, so part of you thinks he probably would’ve invited you. Then again, it might be just a small thing at his place, so he doesn't want too many people because of his housemates. Yet, would Jae ask if you were going if it was a small, private thing? How close were Jae and Chan anyway?

Wait. Chan lives with Minho. That realisation sent you into another tailspin. Jae knows that you’re close with Minho. That’s probably why Jae asked. Maybe he assumed you would been invited by Minho... but you hadn't heard anything from him other than memes and pictures of his cats. Does Minho not want you to go? Why?

You rinsed your mouth, letting the messy jumble of speculations gurgle down the drain with it, trying to snap out of all of that negative you’d dragged up. You were overthinking. Again. You dried your face and took in a calming breath. You replied to Jae before you began to sort out what skin care, make up and other bits and pieces you'd need. That's when Jae called.

"Why aren't you going?" Jae was genuinely confused.

"I wasn't invited." You shrugged, not quite remembering he couldn't see your action. From his next words, it was obvious that fact hadn't even crossed his mind.

"That makes no sense. Chan likes you and it's Minho's house, too. That kind of means it’s his party, too. By default. As if your not invited."

"Honestly, I had no clue there was anything on until you texted me." That's when it clicked. This was the same party Felix was shopping for today. Felix probably would've invited you. Maybe he didn't know?… maybe he did…

"Jae, this is going to sound pretty dumb, but… what if Minho purposefully didn't invite me?"

The line stayed quiet for a few beats, then crackled to life, "Okay... but why?"

"Well," You sighed, trying to figure out how to phrase your theory properly, "Felix, one of the boys’ other housemates, came into work today. He was looking for something to wear to a party.

Jae hummed, waiting for you to continue. You took in a breath.

"From the limited experience I've had with him, as well as Minho's other housemates, I feel like he would've invited me to the party since it's their place - joint hosts by default, like you said - but he barely talked about the party in our conversation. It would've been natural to since that's what he was shopping for..." You trailed off, worried you weren't making any sense.

"So, you think that Minho might've told the boys not to mention anything to you?" Jae somehow made sense of your rambling, which had you half-surprised.

“Well, yeah... I mean, it does sound crazy and make me look like I’m a bit self-obsessed to think that there's a whole conspiracy around me not being invited-"

"Kind of, but I get it." Jae interjected, teasingly. He missed out on seeing the roll of your eyes.

"- but the way Minho has been acting lately doesn't exactly help me to think other wise..."

"What do you mean?"

"The way he acts when I bring up the boys is a bit... i'm not quite sure how to describe it. He just seems a bit cold when I bring them up." You sighed. Jae was silent, prompting you to keep going.

"You know how we saw Chan? I mentioned it to him, and he went from teasing and bubbly to stoic and monotonous in an instant."

"We get it, you know big words."

"Shut up~" you whined.

He chuckled into the receiver. "Continue."

You remembered something that helped to strengthen your case, "Like the day he and I went out to lunch. We bumped into Changbin and Jisung, more roommates,” you clarified, “and he barely acknowledged their presence. THEY LIVE TOGETHER!" The exasperation in your voice could not be missed.

"Dude, he's jealous." Jae uttered nonchalantly.

"Can't be. Why would he be?" You took your belongings from the bathroom and into the living area. The zip of your overnight bag signalling that you'd finished packing.

"That, I can't tell you exactly," you rolled you eyes, phone changing hands, but continued to listen, "It could be that he feels weird about his two friendship groups colliding. It could because he wants to protect you-"

“He doesn’t need to protect me-“

"He might be trying to protect them-"

"Hey!"

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Look, there could be reasons that you have no idea about.” He was right, not that you'd admit that to the lanky boy, but it still hurt a little. "Well, I kind of feel bad since I brought this up."

"Seriously, it's fine. You didn't know."

"Well, I was actually gonna suggest I plus one you. I'll ask Chan and then we'll know for sure."

You contemplated the offer. Did you really want to know if you purposely weren't invited? Then again, you need to know what was going on with Minho.

"If you're both okay with it, then yeah."

"Okay, cool. I'll message Chan."

You hadn't realised the silence until Jae spoke again, this time, softly, "If it means anything, I think Minho probably just forgot. He's not used to you having any mutual friends. He wouldn't usually invite you before you met the boys, right?"

True. Minho probably didn't think about inviting you because he wouldn't usually have to. You were well aware you ran in different circles, and you were both okay with that. You felt a wave of relieve and assurance wash over you. "Thanks, Jae."

"Don't sweat it." His teasing tone returning.

Your eyes flicked up to the clock on the wall. Shit, you completely forgot about keeping track of time. You knew Eunwoo wouldn't be too stressed if you were a bit late, but you were trying to work on your time management skills. You still had enough time if you left now.

"Sorry, Jae. I lost track of time and I have to be at Eunwoo's in 10."

"All good. I'll talk to you soon. See ya."

You were grateful for Jae. You weren't as close to him as you were to Minho, but you really loved how he just got you sometimes. That, and he was also a lot of fun to be around. You double checked you had everything, miraculously, only having to make one trip to the car. You locked up, packed everything in safely and left. You knew the way to Eunwoo's like the back of your hand, from all the late night drives and emergency trips. You let the sunset wash over you as you made your way down the familiar road.

"FINALLY!" Eunwoo greeted after swinging the door wide open. She enveloped you in a big hug. You forgot how strong she was sometimes, even with her deceivingly tiny arms. "I missed you!"

"It hasn't even been a week!" You laughed, letting her help. She stole the bag of supplies from your abundance of bags. Of course she would take the snacks. "Exactly! Waaaaay too long~" She winked back.

Eunwoo's apartment was the uni student level of lavish. Is was spacious and decorated beautifully, with thought put into every detail. The fixtures in the kitchen matched beautifully with the ones in the bathroom, the rich, jewel blue curtains had gold piping that matched the accents on the wall trimmings, and all the door handles matched.

Eunwoo had a roommate, Nayoung. She was only a few years older than the two of you. She wasn't around too often, being busy with work almost every day. When she was around, she'd hang out and join in on whatever fun you and Eunwoo had planned. You thought she worked too hard and should take more time for herself once in a while.

Eunwoo greedily unpacked the contents of the bag, examining the snacks thoughtfully and deciding which she wanted to start with. You took that as a cue to go put your belongings in her room, for when you'd need them later that night. You returned to the living area to find her standing in the kitchen, absent-mindedly munching on the gummy worms. You fell into the warm embrace of her oversized couch. The movement snapped Eunwoo out of her trance, following in your footsteps. She made herself comfortable next to you, gummy worms still in hand, legs crossed, facing you. You grabbed one of the glasses of water she had already put out prior, ready to get the rundown of tonight's schedule.

"Okay, so," She began, "I was thinking we go all out tonight. Take-out, face masks, movies, ice cream, text Jaemin, paint nails-" The sound of you choking on water interrupted her.

"Sorry, what? Text Jaemin? You seriously thought you could get away with just slipping that in casually?" You chided, all the while noticing her cheeky grin.

"Come on, Y/n! You promised you'd do it today." Her smile softened before she went on. Her voice dropped the teasing undertone, emphasising how genuine she felt about this. "You're really going to let a cute boy get away because of what? He made the first move, obviously at that, so there's no way he doesn't have some level of interest in you."

Your empty stare was fixated on the coffee table. You were scared. Who wouldn't be. The couch shifted. You felt Eunwoo put an arm around your shoulder. You allowed yourself to rest into her, and you just sat like that for a few minutes. You had your head on her shoulder, just mulling over the whole situation. You knew she was right. Were you really going to let irrational fear hold you back?

"What do I say?" You deadpanned, still in place in Eunwoo's grasp. Your free hand reaching lazily in the general direction of where you'd left your phone. You positioned it in front of both of your faces, your head still on Eunwoo's shoulder, meaning she didn't have to crane her neck to see. You carelessly pulled up the boy's contact. It was still left open from the last time you stared at it.

"It's been days since I saw him. What if he doesn't even remember me?" Your worries were met with an exasperated sigh and a gentle yet firm hit to your forehead. "I told you before, stupid. He wouldn't be giving his number to every girl that he meets at work. Trust me, he'll remember you." She then gently pat where she had struck you before you both straightened up. You bit your lip and tried to find the right words. Eunwoo stroked your hair. A subtle form of support or a passive aggressive move implying 'I'm watching you to make sure you actually follow through', you weren't sure.

"Don't overthink it. Keep it simple.' She hummed. You heeded her advice. It's like whenever you get the number of a new friend, right? Except this friend was one of the most attractive men you'd ever seen and was hardly given the chance to exchange more than a few words with you. You were overthinking. Snap out of it.

Tapping sounds were expelled from the small speakers of your phone, peaking your friend's interest. You held the phone towards her for approval. The screen was still blank with 'Hey Jaemin, you gave me your number a few days ago at the bubble tea place?' written in the text bar. She seemed to mull it over before giving a short nod, responding "Good, but you're missing something that's kind of important."

You furrowed your brow, reading over the text twice more before turning back to see the biggest smile one her face. "Maybe your name?" In any other instance you'd be over her teasing tone, but considering how obvious it was, you decided it was warranted. "True..." you muttered, adding it into the text as you wondered if he'd remember your name.

"Wait," you looked back to Eunwoo, "Did your name come up at all?" It was scary when she read your mind like that. You nodded, telling her that he had asked during your brief exchange. The evil grin return, and now you were genuinely confused. What kind of plan was she concocting in that brain of hers? "On second thoughts, don't mention your name. See if he remembers." She winked at you before jumping up and heading back over to the kitchen. You read your message again, breathing slowly as you tried to make sure it sounded as natural and casual as possible. "Just press send, Y/n!" Eunwoo cried from across the room. Fine.

Y/n: Hey Jaemin, you gave me your number a few days ago at the bubble tea place?

You locked your phone and through it into the corner of the couch, then got up and met Eunwoo in the kitchen. You released the breathe you'd been unconsciously holding, letting the nerves fade away to the back of your mind. It was future you’s problem now, and you weren’t going to let the small sense of anxiety that the situation stirred within you ruin what could be a perfectly good girls’ night. You weren't exactly sure what Eunwoo was doing in the kitchen, but she was making herself busy. You asked if you could help anyway, but you were hushed and forced to retake your seat. She struck up the next topic of conversation. "How was your day?"

She had no clue how much of a loaded question that was. The whole ‘party’ thing became the centre of the storyline, as you rehashed the highlights of the day’s events. You then dove into the phone call and theories you discussed with Jae. "So, the question is, why doesn't he want me to go?" Eunwoo was so invested that she stopped midway through the task to lean over the bench and dive into the bag of popcorn with you.

"Maybe he likes you." She said with ease, finishing by popping two pieces of popcorn into her mouth, her eyes never leaving yours.

"As if" you scoffed. "Why would he be so casual about the whole Jaemin thing? We could've teased me or grilled me to see if I'd actually do anything about it."

"Or he would just rather not know…” she sing-songed softly.

You hated that her point was justified, but you could never see Minho being interested in you. How could you? It just- "I don't see it."

She rolled her eyes at you in place of further dialogue.

"It makes no sense, though. He was way too supportive about Jaemin, at least in his own ~special~ way."

What you neglected to mention was how he’d been acting when you brought up his housemates or all the times he'd talked about girls in front of you. You just knew she'd have a field day with that.

"Well, at least we know why he wouldn't invite you. He's jealous." Your friend sighed and straightened up, proceeding to get a bowl for the popcorn so you were somewhat civilised in your snacking affairs. "I mean, Jae's right. It's classic jealous behaviour. The real question we should be asking is why is he jealous." She moved to sit with you.

You both sat at the island bench in silent contemplation, running through a mental list of scenarios that would make sense in justifying his behaviour. After awhile, you and Eunwoo exchanged a look. Neither of you could think of anything noteworthy. Minho was really hard to read in general. Even as his proclaimed best friend, you had trouble understanding some of the things he did. You couldn't imagine how confusing he would be to Eunwoo. She broke you away from the thought, picking up on where the conversation left off.

"Maybe its just general friend envy," with a tilt of the head, your gaze urged her to continue, "You know, when your jealous because you think that someone new is gonna steal your best friend away from you." All you did was nod, no longer holding her gaze. It was plausible. You wouldn't put it past him. You wouldn't put it past most people. However, to really get to the bottom of this, you had to play devil's advocate.

"Though, he's fine with you."

"he had to be. he's dumb sometimes but he's smart enough to know not to fight a battle he would lose."

"True."

You both burst into laughter. This is why you loved this girl. She was everything you could want in a close female friend. As girls, you were always raised to see each other as competition to some degree. It was something that was part of the social structure. Even if it was never at the forefront of your mind, you would always end up feeling uncomfortable or jealous around other girls, constantly comparing yourself to them. If you didn’t, others would. After a while, you would just accept where you stood in the 'hierarchy', but that was high school. Honestly, uni wasn't that much better if you compared certain experiences side by side. The difference was you didn't have to force anything. Unlike high school, you could escape. You didn't see the same people every day and could cut the toxic ones out of your life. Uni gave you more freedom.

Regardless, you loved Eunwoo because you never felt 'threatened' by her. She listened and was compassionate, and once you let it all out she would both try to fix it and then take your mind off of things. The order of the two varied depending on the situation. She knew you'd do the same for her, without hesitation. She was your first, true friend.

"Enough about problematic men. Wanna go find something to eat?" She stood up, grabbing her keys, dangling them so their jingle would entice you to rise to your feet. You smiled and did just that, following her out the door.

You went to Hirai. Japanese takeaway was the easiest to agree on and you could both attest to how good it was. Even after all your efforts to supply your every need, snack wise, Eunwoo was adamant on picking up a tub of ice cream for a real gelato place for dessert. If you were going to eat you feelings, it may as well taste delicious, right? She dragged you to a place she found nearby with the help of her phone.

You knew the place. You walked past it a few times. You'd never gone inside, though. You just never had the desire since your go-to was close to home. That, and after a while, you forgot it was there. The shop front had a classical vibe, blending in with the other parchment coloured buildings either side. If you didn't bother to read the cursive writing, you could've easily mistaken it for an antique shop. You appreciated that they kept all the trimmings when restoring the building.

The line was almost out the door, which didn't really bother either of you. They provided paper menus at the door so you could browse ahead of time. It seemed that they anticipated the problem and prepared accordingly. Credits to them.

Eunwoo reached ahead to grab a menu for you both. You read through the interesting flavours, eyeing them quizzically. The first few minutes were spent pointing out interesting names like ‘ink bottle' and trying to decipher what they could be. It took you awhile before it dawned on you that they had simplistic descriptions beneath each title. ‘Ink bottle’ was actually sesame with liquorice notes.

You sort of zoned out after awhile, not being able to help, thinking back to the whole Minho situation instead. You just didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just say something.

The more you analysed, the more it seemed like he was purposely keeping it a secret. If your friends hadn't agreed with you, you would've talked yourself out of the speculations you’d made, but they kind of agreed with you. It made sense. That's the thing. Why else would Felix be so hesitant to mention it? If it was Chan's party, why wouldn't he bring it as a general topic of conversation? You had asked about what had been going on back at the house. He spent a solid 5 minutes trying to think of something to update you on. You gave him the opportunity on a silver platter. It’s not like he could say he didn't know. Chan definitely would've given all the other boys a heads up. Hell, he probably let them invite some of their friends, too, or mutual friends. Coincidentally, you fit into both categories, so-

"Snap out of it. Pick ice cream." You looked back at Eunwoo, who's eyes were still trained on the menu. She could read you like a book. She sighed a moment later, following up with "You get one sentence to explain what you're thinking, then we go back to ice cream time and save the rest of the conversation for home. Deal?" The idea being you rid yourself of the thought temporarily, so you can focus on having fun. You exhaled before you spoke.

"I don't understand why he's gone to such lengths to kept some party a secret, because we don't keep secrets, especially about something so insignificant. So pointless…” You muttered the last part, since you went over your one-sentence limit. With the word you huffed out, the hint of frustration not as subtle as you’d hoped. Eunwoo nodded, "He's dumb. What ice cream were you thinking? because I was leaning towards the chiv-"

"Hello, hello." Eunwoo was cut off by a familiar voice standing behind you. You exchanged a glance, Eunwoo looking confused, annoyed and slightly alarmed all at once. She was clueless as to who it was, but your suspicions were confirmed when you turned around, eyes landing on Chan. Changbin was to his left. "Fancy meeting you here." He beamed. You smiled back instantly, Eunwoo's questioning expression visible in your peripheral vision.

"Ah-I-Hi Chan. Hey Changbin. This is Eunwoo," She waved on cue, "and we could say the same to you." The initial shock wore off the more you spoke, replaced with confidence as you felt more comfortable. You turned to Eunwoo, finally being able to 'clue' her in on who the handsome strangers were. She was well aware, since you'd talked about both boys before, but they didn't need to know that. "They're Minho's housemates." She faked an expression of realisation, giving a slight nod. "We're just grabbing some ice cream." She played dumb, realising something that took awhile to dawn on you.

What if they heard you?

Shit.

"So, how's girls’ night going?" Chan asked, earnestly. You were both taken aback. "How did you-" You were tugged to the side by Eunwoo. Having been side-tracked by the sudden reunion, you didn't realise the line had moved a fair bit. You were already in front of the ice cream flavours. You turned to face the flavours and try to at least help Eunwoo with the decision, yet still continued talking to the boys. Chan was the one that kept the conversation going.

"A hunch. You two are out with a bag of takeaway food and in line to get ice cream. We just put two and two together."

You nodded. It made sense.

"That and Minho told us." Changbin chimed in.

Of course he did. You told him random, insignificant things he didn’t necessarily need to know. Why didn’t he do the same with you? He used to… The annoyance towards your best friend increasing.

"I'm going to kill him, I swear-"

"Don't worry, princess. I'll take care of him for you." Changbin whispered in your ear from behind you. There was something underlying in his words that caused your breath to catch in your throat. He was so close all of a sudden. You heard him chuckle darkly, his breath beating down on your neck. He moved away. You stepped forward. Trying to recover, your eyes never lost contact with the ice cream labels when you spoke, "Thanks, but I'd like the satisfaction." The confidence you feigned seeming believable in the strength of your words.

You finally looked up at the boys. Chan was just nodding, also looking into the glass cabinets. He was oblivious to the intimacy of the interaction between you and Changbin. Though, the latter didn't seem to quite believe your words. Changbin was smirking at how flustered you were. You quickly looked away to peer of Eunwoo’s shoulder, only making him feel more proud of himself. He discovered he had a little bit of power over you now. Well, fuck.

Eunwoo gave a quizzical stare, switching from you to the boy, then abruptly moved on. "So, do you want ~chivalrous dalmatian~?" waiting to see if you were alright with the option she put to you, she eyed you a bit more than was necessary. “Cookies & cream.” She simplified. Her gaze flickered to Changbin just before you agreed with her pick. His attention was already back on Chan by the time you’d turned away from him. She just rolled her eyes at the boy, attention returning to the present conversation. "Perfect."

'Perfect' was a good term to use, since a server had just approached both of you as you finalised your choice. Regardless of the flavour, you just needed some space to breathe. You loved the two boys to your left, but since you were low-key having a mini crisis over why your best friend was acting weird, you just wanted to get out and back to Eunwoo's as soon as possible. Changbin kind of ‘flirting’ - for the lack of a better word - with you didn't exactly help either.

Shaking off the uneasy feeling, you forced yourself to focus on the present. By ‘the present’, you meant your best friend, since she always put up with you, even when you were like this. Yeah, Minho did too, but since he was the cause of said crisis, he wasn’t getting a free pass today.

“My shout!” You announced overly cheerfully. Eunwoo didn’t bat an eye. The boys did. Your demeanour did a full 180 right in front of there eyes, but then again, they probably had no clue where your head was at. If anything, it just startled them. You weren’t even that loud.

You both moved to the cashier point, fishing out your purse. Just after you pulled your card out, a hand weaved between the two of you, tapped a card and removed itself once again. You almost went to scold Eunwoo but stopped for two reasons; firstly, she looked as surprised as you, and secondly, no way was her hand that veiny.

You then looked to find Chan standing right behind you both, grinning like an idiot. With pure sincerity, he finished with “Your welcome!”

You both just stood their for a second, confused. Grateful, but confused. Chan was way too kind. He had already moved back to Changbin. Your gaze focusing in on them ordering for themselves. Only Eunwoo noticed the slightly peeved sales person waving the tub of ice cream in front of you guys.

You made your way out, but not before you gave Chan a huge thank you. You didn’t hug the boys, because not only did you feel off tonight but it was also for Eunwoo’s sake, to not put her in an awkward position. You didn’t escape without a wink from Changbin, and you bet Eunwoo noticed it, too. With a wave and ‘see you soon’ exchanged, you both walked out of the ice cream parlour and headed for the car, arm in arm.

“I— I’m just - what even just-“

“Same.”

You both walked in contemplative silence. The late night discussions were going to be on a whole other level tonight.

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crybabybyee · 2 years

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yesterday morning i woke up with this certain, clarified feeling in my heart that he had moved on.

and i was okay.

i think after watching that stream i really felt like i was able to let him go. there’s nothing attractive about a cheater who just moves on to his next supply, and you are hearing it for yourself with a front row seat, he is only exposing how garbage he is.

and it seems like there’d be no way i could get back with him at this point, even if i WANTED to.

it’s like he treats every girl he meets the exact same...same manner of tone, saying the same things and acting the same way. ‘chasing’ them in some game, doing some pretend stutter, and cute-voice that doesnt sound cute it just sounds cringy...i remmeber when he used to do the fake stutter when i would play with him and the other guys in my discord. it made me want to slap him lol it was so annoying and fake and he just ended up doing it automatically at times because hed conditioned himself to. so fucking cringe

part of me wants to be really petty. i changed my whatsapp picture to one of me with a kitty filter on. it has a collar too. i did it on purpose so he knows i want to be someones submissive kitten (it’s true, i do miss that). part of me wants to finally meet up with him in game, ask him if his new supply knows about his final fantasy mistress and how he goes on every late-night to her, obviously. not once has he ever come on ff when i’ve been online. and ive been on at several different times. i changed my bio in game to something petty and attention seeking to guys which would make him mad. BUT HE HASNT BEEN ON SO HASNT SEEN IT. makes me so fucking mad lol. like hes probably avoiding me in game on purpose, because i will uncover his ‘secret’. bitch i knew exactly what you were doing because im a fucking god-level detective. and my crazy ass brain even thought “why dont you make up a complete lie? for once in this relationship. make up a bunch of shit like his mistress told me kms or that she said he wished i were dead, etc. it sounds fucking hilarious to me but its also batshit crazy. maybe if i get to that degree of madness i will. because what do i have to lose, other than him and his mistress believing that i am indeed a crazy bitch? those assholes literally lied and laughed behind my back, so who cares. she will then probably claim i am ‘obsessed’ with her because i searched in her name, saw her stream, lodestone etc to get the evidence i needed. like..? its really not hard to search someones name on the internet to find what youre looking for its actually NORMAL girl behaviour??? but apparently, last time i searched for her name on a public ff discord server, clicked it and saw she was mutual friends with him, that was me stalking her and being obsessed. lol, you’d love that...wouldnt you? i did stalk her tho, found her twitch and discovered her nasty ass smoker voice. never told her that but i might bring it up if they start on me.

i also hate it when bitches your bf cheated on you with, act like youre obsessed with them for checking out their shit and seeing who you are... i.. you sound so stupid rn

what person wouldnt do that? hello? i checked you out...then realise i have literally nothing to be jealous over. and now im minus a bf who just wanted to sext other women. i win

i guess ill post again tomorrow with how my feelings are going.. basically yesterday i felt kinda like an untouchable goddess and realised iw ant to learn to love myself again. fall in love with me. today im feeling more petty, and a bit ugly again, because i feel like the years have been wasted and im here again, single and older. fuck i will be 33 in june...like...why

why am i not married with kids? thats the funny thing tho. i WAS married and now im not, i DO have a kid but its just me, him and my dogs.

no man in sight just a dead beat baby daddy. why is life so fucking cruel?

literally never asked to be played like this.

i need my tarot cards

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willag42 · 6 years

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Yuri!!! On Ice Fanfic Recs with Reviews ["A” Authors]

Note: Doing some major reformating of the YOI fanfic rec pages. The pages that include my reviews are now having the posts separated alphabetically by author (see below). I am also creating separate page(s) that allow filtering the fanfics by category. It's a work in progress, but I'm having fun with it.

This page includes my YOI fanfic recs (with reviews) for authors whose names begin with "A".

Note: For any authors whom I don't know the gender, I refer to them with they/them. If any authors wish to correct me, please do so.

AUTHORS REC PAGES: #0-9 -- A -- B -- C -- D -- E -- F -- G -- H -- I -- J -- K -- L -- M -- N -- O -- P -- Q -- R -- S -- T -- U -- V -- W -- X -- Y -- Z

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Refer to this masterlist for all of my YOI fanfic recs.

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ADreamingSongbird (@adreamingsongbird)

If you’re in the mood for some adorable, wholesome ship fics (friendship or romantic), then look no further than ADreamingSongbird’s fics. The character interactions are sure to leave you with a few extra cavities. I am particularly attached to the close friendship she paints between Yuuri and Phichit. But don’t be fooled, because she is equally crafty at twisting your heart into an agonizing, unrecognizable mess.

#bffs4lyfe

Rating: Gen Words: 10.6k Status: Complete Relationship: Platonic Phichit+Yuuri; (side) Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov Tags: BFFs; Detroit pre-canon; post-canon Yuuri/Victor wedding ❤❤❤❤❤ Summary: Detroit holds a special place in Phichit Chulanont's heart, mostly because that's where he met the boy who would become his lifelong best friend. Wait, no, scratch that - Detroit doesn't hold a special place in Phichit's heart. Yuuri Katsuki does. ❤❤❤❤❤ Review: Did I mention how much I love how she writes the friendship between Yuuri and Phichit? Because I really do.

The Rules for Lovers

Rating: Mature Words: 323.3k Status: Complete Relationship: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov Tags: Fantasy AU; Historical fantasy; Magic; War; Survivor's guilt; PTSD; Falling in love ❤❤❤❤❤ Summary: Prince Yuuri Katsuki has a duty to his country, above all else (his desires, his dreams, and his happiness included), and he knows this alliance will help to ensure the safety of his people. That’s the only reason he accepts Prince Nikiforov’s hand in marriage. The pleasant surprise, of course, is the part where they fall in love along the way. The unpleasant one, well... That’s a long story. ❤❤❤❤❤ Review: This is perhaps my favorite urban fantasy YOI fanfic, using modern technology but mixing in magic and monarchies. There's a lot of political intrigue, attempted assassinations, and murderous plots, which leads to a lot of dark, heavy angst, but the core of the story is LOVE. Warm, heartbreaking, self-sacrificing, but always present. And before all the angst started kicking in double-time, the sappy fluff was at tooth-rotting levels. Yuuri and Viktor are super soft in this story, building a fluffy, innocent relationship. The maturity rating is earned by the dark themes and twisted, manipulative plots by the antagonists rather than anything by the main protagonists. The series also contains a collection of side stories, mosaic, if you're wanting more from this universe. One of the best royalty AUs in the fandom.

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Adrianna99 (@iwritebetterthanispeak)

Prodigy

Rating: Teen Words: 122.1k Status: Complete Relationship: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov Tags: Alternate universe; Alternate profession; Music; Violist Yuuri; Violinist Viktor; Fluff; Angst; Minor injuries ❤❤❤❤❤ Summary: Viktor Nikiforov is the most talented young violinist in the world, so he's understandably devastated when an injury prevents him from playing professionally for at least a year. But when his mentor suggests he take on a student to keep from getting rusty, Viktor finds new inspiration in a place he never thought he would: a violist. Viktor Nikiforov wasn't at all what Yuuri expected, and when he accepts the older man's offer to help him win the most prestigious musical competition in the world, Yuuri gets a lot more than he bargained for. ❤❤❤❤❤ Review: Another fanfic that adapts the series into an alternate profession but makes several unique changes and improves upon the ending of the original series (if you've read any of my other reviews, you can probably guess exactly how it improves upon the original series' ending). That's obviously not the only reason to love this fanfic. The characters are a softer than their original counterparts, including Yuri, who I really sympathized with in the beginning when Viktor decides to take over as Yuuri's mentor. The fic places emphasis on pathos and developing the relationships between the characters. One wonderful aspect is how much presence Phichit has, since he and Yuuri continue living in an apartment together with Viktor in a separate apartment. As such, we get to see a growing friendship between Viktor and Phichit. The romance between Yuuri and Viktor blooms sooner in the story as well. Adrianna99 has written additional short side stories for this series that are also worth a look: Prodigy: Mirror Image, which approaches chapter 2 from Viktor's POV; and Prodigy: Phone Home, which is an extra from chapter 3 where Yuuri contacts his family. If you want to read a story that takes cues from the original anime, but goes its own path, definitely check this story out!

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AlexWSpark (@alexwspark)

Alex has an interesting, softer (but not too soft) interpretation of the characters that I really appreciate. The original anime is a comedy, so it amplifies certain character quirks “4 teh lulz,” but Alex takes care to not over-exaggerate, which can make some characters more likeable (*cough*Yurio*cough*). But don’t worry, Victor and Yuuri are still big pining messes. Alex also takes great care to develop healthy bonds between the characters in their stories, which is always A+++!

The Katsuki/Nikiforov Collector's Edition + DLC (Series, 4 works)

On Online and Offline Love Rating: Mature -- Words: 32.8k -- Status: Complete -- Summary: Gaming/Streaming AU: In which Yuuri and Victor are gamers, head over heels for each other, and hoping to one day come face-to-face. Of course, when two whipped, adorable fluff-balls are involved, shenanigans ensue...

On Bedhead, Bullets, and Bargains Rating: Mature -- Words: 18.2k -- Status: WIP -- Summary: Yuuri (GamerLevelEros) and Victor (GAria_VNikiforov): Gamers, streamers, friends, lovers. Families will unite, love will be spread and, of course, games will be played. But, as their relationship progresses, Yuuri will discover that their time apart carries much more weight that he could've ever imagined.

Our Aim is True Rating: Mature -- Words: 6.2k -- Status: Complete -- Summary: Yuuri (GamerLevelEros) and Victor (GAria_VNikiforov) are THE streaming power couple and as they approach their one-year anniversary, Yuuri decides that it's time to add another life-changing plot twist to his collection.

Katsuki/Nikiforov DLC - A Collection of Tumblr Drabbles Rating: Mature -- Words: 13.3k -- Status: WIP -- Summary: Tumblr drabbles based on HCs/prompts from both myself and followers. ❤❤❤❤❤ Words: 70.4k Status: Work In Progress Relationship: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov Tags: Gaming/Streaming AU; Video games; Mutual pining; Fluff; Dorks in love ❤❤❤❤❤ Review: An amazing gaming AU series with a wonderful light-hearted story where Yuuri and Victor are Ye Ol’ Gaming Gods on Twitch who fanboy one another and live, breathe, and think in game metaphors. Like, seriously, I am deeply impressed with all the corny yet fantastic gaming analogies. It’s like living in a gaming otaku’s head. Gaming fans will understand more of the references, but this is a wonderful series of fics that can be loved and enjoyed by all. If you are seriously a fan of Victor and Yuuri being pining dorks, then you should definitely check this one out!

Unexpected

Rating: Explicit Words: 65.5k Status: Complete Relationship: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov Tags: Canon divergence; Victor knows that Yuuri does not remember the banquet ❤❤❤❤❤ Summary: Banquet AU: In which one impulsive midnight decision leads Victor Nikiforov to Yuuri Katsuki and, of course, everything changes, a.k.a Drunk!Yuuri has no chill, a.k.a Victor experiences #allthefeels. ❤❤❤❤❤ Review: One of the better canon divergence fics I’ve read. This only takes place up through the first regional competition, but it’s able to keep the characters and situation fresh by changing the order of event and have the characters be more mature and likeable. Yuuri’s anxiety still causes trouble, but he is more open to Victor’s presence and they form a friendly bond quicker; Victor is aware that Yuuri doesn’t remember the banquet and reacts with care; and Yurio is way less of an asshole. I love this spin on the story.

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Anonymous

Across the Universe

Rating: Teen Words: 30.7k Status: Complete Relationship: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov Tags: Multiverse AU; Dimension travel; Soulmates AU ❤❤❤❤❤ Summary: In an alternative universe, Yuuri has just won the GPF at Sochi — and he’s miserable. He lost everything that mattered to him several years ago when a tsunami hit Hasetsu, and after throwing himself into his skating, he’s achieved gold, but the win is hollow without others there to share it. Things change when he’s transported to another universe, where GPF champion Victor Nikiforov is about to drown himself in the Black Sea. According to legend, only those with a deep connection can draw someone from across the universe. But Yuuri and Victor have never met before in their respective worlds; perhaps someone out there knew how much they needed each other. ❤❤❤❤❤ Review: I love both the premise and the execution of this fic. In Yuuri's universe, Victor and all of his family and friends from Hasetsu are dead. He's achieved a gold medal in Sochi but his life feels hollow. In Victor's universe, Yuuri was the one who died in the tsunami (though everyone else survive), and Victor is feeling hopeless. In their moment of need, Yuuri is transported across dimensions to Victor's universe, a common occurrence within that universe such that systems are already in place to help such people adapt and create a new life there if they wish or to be sent back. Victor's universe is fascinating in that it's more technologically advanced at that point, despite the year being the same, but competitive skating is trailing with quads still not being a thing. I like the take on how both Yuuri and Victor agree that this is actually a good thing since quads damage skaters' bodies and wear the joints down even more quickly. Yuuri puts on his performances that won him the GPF a few times, but decides to stick to the universe's rules so that he can focus on the performance more. There are a lot of struggles with adapting to the new world, but overall, it ends up healing everyone. As soulmates, Victor and Yuuri eventually find life and love with one another and soothe each other's broken souls.

#Victuuri fic recs #YOI fic recs #A authors

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aion-rsa · 4 years

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How Wynonna Earp is Busting the Moonlighting Curse

https://ift.tt/34Sx2cQ

The following contains spoilers for Wynonna Earp season 4.

While we wait for Wynonna Earp to return from its COVID-instigated midseason hiatus, it seems like the perfect time to dig into one of the show’s most complicated and rich topics: The layered relationship between Wynonna Earp and Doc Holliday, and the ways in which the show has committed to telling a love story that goes beyond whether a particular pairing will get together in the end.

Far too many TV series – genre or otherwise – waste far too much screen time delaying the organic progression of their two leads’ romantic relationship. As a result, from pilot to series finale, the redundant “will they/won’t they” relationship question dominates a significant portion of the plot, as marquee couples are inevitably pulled together and pushed apart by circumstance, and the story spins its wheels, afraid to let the would-be couple take “the next step,” usually right up until the series’ final set of episodes.

This happens so often that there’s even a name for it – it’s known as the Moonlighting Curse. The name references the (honestly, incredibly incorrect) assumption that the 1980s comedy-drama Moonlighting suddenly became both boring and bad because it finally paired off its will they/won’t they leads, played by Bruce Willis and Cybill Shepherd after years of mining the sexual tension between the pair.

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Though the true culprit was actually bad writing, the show’s subsequent collapse in terms of both ratings and quality was ultimately blamed by many network higher-ups on the decision to finally pay off the series’ love story well before the end of the show (the characters consummated their relationship at the end of Season 3, and the series ran for two more seasons). And in the many years since, something of a cottage industry of shows has sprung up that seem to exist solely to string along the fans who invest in romance, creating an endless stream of obstacles for their marquee pairings centered around the questions of whether they will “get together” yet afraid to fully confront the idea of what writing a real, complicated relationship might look like.

Thankfully, Wynonna Earp has never been the sort of show that’s afraid of anything.

When Will Wynonna Earp Season 4 Return?

By Kayti Burt

Wynonna Earp Season 4 Belongs to Nicole Haught

By Delia Harrington

In the world of this series, the question of whether Wynonna and Doc love one another isn’t really even worth asking anymore. It’s just a simple fact. Through fights and betrayals, trips to hell, the Garden of Eden, and back again, one of the only true constants of Wynonna Earp has been that, no matter what, Doc and Wynonna are in love.

Even when one – or both – of them was romantically involved (or at least sleeping with) other people for whatever reason, their epic attachment was always bubbling in the background. Everyone in Purgatory knows what this pair means to one another, even when both have done their best to avoid the reality. Granted, neither of them is a particularly easy person to be in a relationship with, which is perhaps why they keep failing to truly get together in a lasting, healthy way despite the complete obviousness of their feelings for one another. And man is it fun to watch, proof that the “will they/won’t they” narrative structure isn’t the only or even best way to tell a love story.

Yes, the two often appear chronically incapable of even really admitting – let alone realistically talking about – their feelings for one another. But Wynonna Earp smartly doesn’t pretend those emotions don’t exist, or that they’re not driving the behavior of both characters. Instead, the show allows their relationship to become a primary driving force of the plot. The fact of their love for one another is not only taken as read, it’s used as a tool by which to further explore who they both are as individuals, in a way that will ultimately allow them to be better both for and with one another.

Both Wynonna and Doc are deeply broken people, who’ve suffered unimaginable loss and pain in their lives. Mutually riddled with trust issues, neither seems to believe they will ever find anything as normal as peace, or that they’re worthy of those they care about most. This low-key self-loathing leads both to make selfish decisions and bad choices, the kind that generally end up hurting themselves more often than they end up helping anyone else.

Because of this, Wynonna tries to drive Doc away, convinced that she doesn’t deserve real love. For his part, Doc behaves recklessly, attempting to prove he’s the monster he’s always feared becoming. (Even allowing himself to be turned into a literal monster at one point.) They argue, they make choices the other doesn’t agree with, they purposefully hurt one another when they’re angry, and they push each other away.

Yet, at no point is any of this behavior meant to make viewers wonder about the reality of their feelings for one another or whether they’ll ultimately be together or not. (No television show is ever going to abandon a couple with this kind of sexual chemistry, and we all know it.) Instead, the issues in their romance are meant to illuminate the things that Wynonna and Doc struggle with individually, and every step they each take toward figuring themselves out is also presented as a step (back) toward one another.

If that’s not incredibly romantic, I’m not sure what is.

Often, the duo have what once again feels like cosmically unfortunate timing – we’re talking like John-and-Aeryn-on-Farscape levels of bad – in which neither of them can seem to get on the same page at the same time. Season 4 is the most heartrending example of this, as their fragile reconnection is shattered when Wynonna decides to shoot Holt Clanton in the back rather than trust the tenuous peace Doc negotiates between their families.

But – again, also like the central love story of Farscape – Wynonna Earp doesn’t act as though these issues are insurmountable, or a potential death knell for the pair fans love. In fact, despite the difficulties the two are sure to face next season, it feels equally obvious that they’ll still find their way back together and work things out in the end. But only once they deal with some of their own issues first. Because I mean, let’s be real, if Doc literally becoming a vampire didn’t faze these two for longer than a handful of episodes, this isn’t likely to do so either.

Yet, the latest rift between the two still makes for supremely compelling television – not because it overtly threatens their love, but because it stems from interior character issues that have nothing to do with their relationship and that can’t be healed by a romance. Whether these two want to be together isn’t the issue here – they clearly do – it’s whether they can be right now in light of the choices they’ve both made that have nothing to do with their feelings for each other.

Wynonna’s reasons for deciding to kill Holt are understandable – if perhaps decidedly unheroic – as is Doc’s conviction that her choice is not only cowardly but will surely escalate the same blood feud that he himself now regrets starting back in Tombstone. But despite the fact that the midseason finale ends with both characters moving away from one another, physically and emotionally speaking, both are still on similar narrative journeys, questioning who they are if their previously established identities as the Earp heir and the fastest gunslinger in the West no longer apply.

Wynonna and Doc’s relationship has taken something of a backseat in Season 4 thus far, allowing Wynonna Earp to center WayHaught’s story and explore Nicole’s lingering trauma from the eighteen months in which she had to survive in Purgatory on her own. But the pairing still feels as necessary and relevant to the story the show is telling as they ever have been. And, despite their current situation, it seems more obvious than ever that their paths will ultimately not only lead back to one another but to better versions of them both. This isn’t a will they/won’t they question so much as a matter of how and when.

Wyndoc is the grand and (thus far) tragic love story of the Ghost River Triangle, a star-crossed pair who share a child, a complicated family entanglement going back hundreds of years, and a love of continual self-sacrifice in the name of others. (And also, they hunt demons!) But Wynonna Earp isn’t content to simply throw up unnecessary narrative obstacles in their path for the sake of dragging out a happily ever after. Instead, the show acknowledges Doc and Wynonna’s obvious feelings, while simultaneously asking why they can apparently do anything together but figure out how to love one another the way they both deserve.

This sort of romantic introspection – and acknowledgment that love really doesn’t instantly conquer all – is an important and often ignored part of a couple’s story, and can be just as compelling as the will they/won’t they dance that many other pairings before Wyndoc have been forced to engage in. It takes work – on yourself and on your relationship – to build something that really lasts, and Wynonna Earp’s decision to show us that that can be something really ugly and uncomfortable is as important as the happily ever after part we fantasize about. Wynonna and Doc will absolutely find their way back together again – but this time they’ll be stronger for it when they do.

The post How Wynonna Earp is Busting the Moonlighting Curse appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3nQEVbl

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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soundcityplus · 4 years

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Interview: Adrian Bushby

We are delighted to have Adrian Bushby join us this May! Adrian is a grammy awarded winning producer and has worked with the likes of Spice Girls, Foo Fighters, Muse and more!

We spoke with Adrian himself about what it’s like being a producer in 2020!

How has the music business changed since you first became involved in it?

In so many ways. I suppose technology has been a big factor, especially the way people consume music. I think digital and streaming has good and bad points... It means a kid in a bedroom has the same power to get their track around the world as a major record label but I think it has watered down the art form slightly as well... people listen to albums less, it all feels a bit more disposable. Obviously there has been a democratisation with regards to recording as well... if you know what you are doing then its possible to make a decent track on an iPhone version of GarageBand... I like that everyone has the opportunity to enjoy doing what I love doing.

Is there any advice you wish someone had given you early on that you can pass on to aspiring artists or executives? Always trust your ears.

If there was one thing you could change about the music industry over night what would it be? For artists and producers to get educated about how the industry works. I think there are so many great companies out there that genuinely care about the people they work with, but I also think that the old cliches can be true...there certainly are some crooks exploiting those who don’t know better. I’m sometimes amazed when I hear about contracts that last forever, microscopic recording budgets, labels/mangers who are just taking a punt without really caring... it makes me sad. The people making the art are usually quite young and sometimes inexperienced, while those in control should know better. I want a mutual level of respect...we should all be doing this because we love music! Also...no more spec mixes! Do not miss Adrian Bushby this May at The British Music Experience. Ticket available here.

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sumofmanythings · 7 years

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SAFE SPACES OF SISTERHOOD: PT 1

I just watched the Grammy awards and the subsequent debates and backlash that followed. Adele won the top award for the night over Beyonce and proceeded to get on stage and express her belief that Beyoncé deserved that award. She praised her for the body of work she created and expressed how much she admired and appreciated it. Now obviously I’m biased as a Beyoncé fan, but I was struck by gesture and the public’s reaction to it. These are two powerful and respected women in music. They have sold millions of records, sold out tours in record time and have received more accolades and awards than most could ever dream of. They have amazing voices and produced amazing works of musical art. They have been public and open in their mutual admiration and respect for one another over the years. Over the next 24 hours, I saw a steady stream of debates pitting them against one another. Who’s better? Who’s more talented? This isn’t new as it has been done before; Beyoncé vs Solange, Serena vs Venus, etc. Isn’t there space for each of them? Can’t they both be great? Isn’t it possible that women can actually promote, admire and respect one another while each excelling in their particular fields? Why do people get so upset when women uplift one another and validate them and their experience?

Women are amazingly talented, unique and full of individual gifts. In my own personal circle of friends lies a wealth of talent; Fashionistas, DJ’s and Music producers, writers, poets, entrepreneurs, corporate power brokers, teachers, lawyers, creatives etc. We are a circle of women who are ambitious, creative and multi-talented. Each of us with individual goals and achievements who are thriving and growing as individuals yet, supporting, promoting and encouraging one another and our respective visions, dreams and goals. This community of women that I’m a part of is essential to my growth and my journey. I call these spaces, “Safe Spaces of Sisterhood”. In these safe spaces are women who are so confident in their gifts, talents, their self-worth, and their purpose that there is no room to “hate” on one another or compete against one another.

That safe space is the place you go where you know you are loved and celebrated for your achievements and success with a genuine joy. These spaces also hold the love and supporting arms of women who will lift you up and encourage you when you are down, pull you out of the darkness when you are sad or depressed and they are the “kicks in the pants” when we need to refocus and redirect our negative energy to something more beneficial and positive. The circle is honest, authentic, and full of love, admiration and mutual respect. I’ve found the best version of myself in these spaces. This circle of sisterhood contains my refuge from a world full of people who wear masks. In my circle, I am free to be myself because I have a community of women who love authentically, speak openly and honestly and are real. They challenge my way of thinking and my perspective and teach me lessons in trust and vulnerability. They allow me the freedom to show myself in all my complexities and flaws. My circle of sisters strengthens and improves me because they inspire me to become my best self while never condemning me for my faults and shortcomings. We push each other and motivate one another. We are a community of equals; standing side by side with one another on the journey we call life. While our goals and dreams are different, we are united in our ambition and desire to become better.

Safe spaces of sisterhood provide women a much needed space to be heard and acknowledged. One the best examples of a “safe space of sisterhood” is the in the video “Love Drought” by Beyoncé. I love this video because of the powerful images and messages that are layered through the song. As a woman dealing with pain and heartache, she retreats into that safe space with her sisters. In that space with the help of the women in her life, she heals; purifying and mending a broken heart surrounded by a community of women who love and care for her enough to lift her up. The imagery of sisterhood and unity were powerful and resonated for me because it reminded me of my friends. She beautifully captured the power of female relationships and true sisterhood when it is rooted in authenticity. There’s healing in those friendships, there is strength in those relationships and where there is unity, there is joy. Women who lift each another up, encourage and support one another is a powerful thing. Whether 2 people or 10, women need spaces that allow them to express hurt, sadness, and anger. Women need spaces of encouragement and support from other women. We need one another to encourage our dreams and goals. We need spaces to hold one another accountable when we are not our best selves. Sisterhood allows us a space where we can just be authentically ourselves without any preconceived notions of what womanhood looks like. Who better to relate to the female experience than another woman?

My mother once told me that there is nothing greater and more powerful than the love and support of good “sister-friends”. I truly believe that is why the very concept of “sisterhood” is often debated, mocked, judged and dismissed. When women gather together, unified with a common purpose; things change. Our relationships with one another are powerful. I’ve found that when I’m united in a circle of women who are focused, goal driven, authentic, and honest, we all achieve and succeed. We help one another, we heal one another and we all become greater but the attacks in our lives also become greater. We need each other to lean on for strength during those difficult times. In our individual lanes of purpose, we all reach different levels of success. I’ve often said that I don’t refer to my circle as friends; I call them my sisters because they are truly family. I want each of them to succeed in life. I want them to experience the abundance that life has to offer. I cheer for their success, comfort them during hard times and rejoice in their victories and they do the same for me. When you have women supporting, loving, encouraging other women it should be celebrated not debated or questioned or even worse, summed up as nothing more than a “clique”.

The lesson I took away from the "Great Grammy Debate" was that when we uplift, support, encourage and validate one another, we all win. Adele and Beyoncé will achieve even higher realms of success because they refuse to participate in the negativity. They are focused women who understand there is room for each of them at the table of success. Perhaps if we stop pitting powerful and successful women against one another and work on our own friendships and sister circles, we can reach new levels of success and achievement in our own lives. We are greater together…always.

Thanks so much for reading! Please comment, share, subscribe and tell a friend! I’d love to hear your thoughts.

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Thanks for reading!

D. Sanders

#FRIENDSHIP #SISTERHOOD #SAFE SPACES OF SISTERHOOD #WOMEN #WOMANHOOD

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johneburton · 5 years

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http://bit.ly/2S0mnco Witchcraft is Driving an Unhealthy Focus on Church Growth A sinister spirit is behind much of today’s church growth movement. Leonard Ravenhil: “We need to close every church in the land for one Sunday and cease listening to a man so we can hear the groan of the Spirit which we in our lush pews have forgotten.” A recent post on Facebook resulted in a long stream of comments from people shouting amen, asking me to start a church, sharing heartbreak over today’s church and dropping in a bunch of fire and bullseye emojis. Here’s part of what I wrote: I'm more convinced than ever that attempting to grow churches and develop programs and ministries has made it nearly impossible to see the remnant church so many are yearning for. Pastors, please hear me. Stop the madness! Stop counting how many people show up every Sunday morning. Stop analyzing metrics. Stop setting numerical growth goals. Stop casting vision that’s centered around your local church growing. Stop. For the love of everything holy, just stop. I know, I know. The Bible tells us that the church was added to daily. 47 …And the Lord added to their number day by day those who were being saved. Acts 2:47 (ESV) Notice, however, the Lord added to their number, not the assimilation team or the marketing team. In fact, if we back up in the text just a bit, we’ll clearly see it wasn’t marketing or a seeker sensitive, low water level approach that resulted in growth. 40 And with many other words he bore witness and continued to exhort them, saying, “Save yourselves from this crooked generation.” 41 So those who received his word were baptized, and there were added that day about three thousand souls. Acts 2:40-41 (ESV) Unapologetic preaching and a call to repentance was the impetus for growth. A Holy Spirit infused message calling people out of a lifestyle of wickedness is what triggered the awakening—not assimilation strategies. The apostles had no need for church growth. They simply preached a transforming message in the power of the Holy Spirit and watched God move. Can you imagine the early Apostles sitting around a table in the Upper Room discussing how to form greeter teams, what coffee and donuts to buy and how to attract people to their services? The thought of it feels like blasphemy! Yet, today’s churches do just that every week. The fear of the Lord is nowhere to be found. 31 So the church throughout all Judea and Galilee and Samaria had peace and was being built up. And walking in the fear of the Lord and in the comfort of the Holy Spirit, it multiplied. Acts 9:31 (ESV) The fear of the Lord and the moving of the Holy Spirit—not programs and ministries—resulted in growth and impact. In fact, consider this powerful truth: False prophets and false teachers are smart enough to know what will truly attract is an encounter with the supernatural—not programs and pastries. 24 For false christs and false prophets will arise and perform great signs and wonders, so as to lead astray, if possible, even the elect. Matthew 24:24 (ESV) If false prophets are focusing on the (unholy) supernatural, why are so many pastors and leaders tied to natural ideas and gimmicks to draw in the people? It’s foolishness. We need the fresh fire of the Holy Spirit to fall. We need to eliminate the distraction and undue stress of most of our church ministries and programs—and simply gather the remnant to pray. FOCUS MUST SHIFT TO THE REMNANT CHURCH I absolutely believe in church growth, but I don’t believe every local church must grow numerically in order to fulfill their purpose. The stigma of small churches has haunted many a pastor. Our focus must be on the city church and regional revival as opposed to local church numeric growth. The group of people on the local level that will spur on the pursuit of revival in the city is the remnant. It’s the remnant church. These are your champions of intercession, holiness and passion for Jesus. They will zealously dive deep and advance into uncharted waters. Note that I didn’t say these people are your core group or your leadership team. The remnant should be the whole of the church. Everybody going deep together. The lukewarm, apathetic people that so many pastors attempt to grow their churches with will be alerted to their condition and then left with a decision. They will either dive into the depths with the rest of the body or they will, by their own choice, shrink back. In fact the Bible says they will ultimately die. Pastors, why are we trying to grow our churches with the spiritually comatose? 1 “And to the angel of the church in Sardis write: ‘The words of him who has the seven spirits of God and the seven stars. “‘I know your works. You have the reputation of being alive, but you are dead. 2 Wake up, and strengthen what remains and is about to die, for I have not found your works complete in the sight of my God. Revelation 3:1-2 (ESV) We need bold messages of awakening in our pulpits today! The call to holiness, prayer and revival must be continual. Their must be a prophetic unction burning in the guts of pastors today. The goal is not church growth! It’s obedience to Jesus and a lifestyle of intercession and fire! From a recent Charisma Magazine article Should the Church Get Scary?: We need to stop trying to attract the lost to church. The purpose of the church, of the ekklesia, is NOT to draw in the lost. Entire church mission statements and vision statements should radically change. While the church isn't for the lost, it remains obviously true that we want to see the lost come to Christ. When the church is again a house of prayer, we will again see the necessary power to truly impact the world. The spirit of revival will explode as will the church. When we understand that a group of twenty or fifty fiery, praying, devoted remnant Believers can do more to minister to God and shake a city than a thousand mildly curious church goers, our energy will shift from church growth to Kingdom impact. Are both mutually exclusive? No. But, the risk of compromise is great when we are attracted to numbers. THE REMNANT IS DONE WITH CHURCH AS USUAL Pastors have been duped into believing they need to (witch)craft their services in such a way that the seekers will be drawn, and not overwhelmed. They manipulate the environment to attract the largest possible group. First, as I have already explained, the church wasn’t designed for the lost. The call for all is to radically and immediately surrender and turn from their wicked ways. Creating a culturally relevant atmosphere that gives people a comfortable warming up period to the concept of God is no way to run a church. The church service was never meant to be used for evangelism. It's a Believer's prayer meeting, not a place to assimilate seekers. Second, when the lost do come in, when a move of God shakes the foundation and the neighborhood bars empty and the desperate line up at the church doors, they are not looking to be pacified and affirmed. They are ready to break! They want an encounter with deity! They don’t want your programs or ministry philosophies. They want Jesus! The remnant has had enough of these low water approaches to ministry. Those who are desperate for a move of God don’t really care that much about being greeted with a handshake and a smile at the door as they arrive on Sunday morning, yet pastors invest much energy and focus on assimilation, hospitality, visitation and other people-centric strategies. The remnant doesn’t care about being assimilated. They want to burst through the door and head to the altars alongside other desperate people. They aren’t impressed by a perfectly produced and executed worship experience led by people who haven’t had an encounter with God in years—if ever. They are not interested in the pastor’s latest, greatest teaching if it’s not burning with fire and dosed with anointing that can only come from hours in the prayer room. They are bored with today’s predictable, powerless, structured and forgettable church services. The remnant simply wants to gather together with others that have the smell of fire on them and pray. They aren’t looking to shake hands with others and they really could not care less about announcements, programs and special events. They want to be wrecked and rocked by the glory of God. How far have we fallen as leaders when we think an unthreatening, casual environment would be the medicine for a spiritually apathetic people. Churches have the smell of death on them because they are attracting the dead to something devoid of resurrection power. Sometimes I wonder if there’s any difference between those in the pews and those in the ground in the church cemetery next door. When the fear of the Lord manifests in a church service, people will immediately either hit the floor or hit the door. The travail, groaning, and agonizing over sin will either grip people to the core or they will simply run out the door. The fear of the Lord directly confronts neutrality and exposes all immorality. A great majority of American churches have never actually experienced the fear of the Lord and it’s coming to this nation. Messengers with a hardcore message of repentance are arising who will enter into cities and regions with a mandate to break up the fallow ground of the hearts of men and usher the fear of the Lord back into the Church. The sign to you that the fear of the Lord has arrived is when people only have two options: to either hit the floor or run out the door. -Jeremiah Johnson Pharaoh-in-the-Church-PaperbackA SINISTER SPIRIT OF WITCHCRAFT IS DRIVING MUCH OF TODAY’S CHURCH GROWTH CULTURE My friend Jeremiah Johnson also posted this recently: When the offerings are down… When attendance is low… When the attacks won’t stop coming… Will you continue to preach the gospel or go back to manipulating people? If asked why they want their church to grow, pastors will offer some spiritual answers: We want to win the lost. Anything healthy grows. We want to impact our neighborhood. While those points are good, and while there are many phenomenal pastors who are doing their best to serve God with obedience, I know there are other more honest answers to the church growth question we must consider: If the church grows, it’s evidence that people like me. I need the money a larger group will bring into the church. My reputation will take a hit if I can’t grow the church. If the church doesn’t grow, I’ll have to get another job. I’m being pressured by my board or overseers to grow numerically. We can only fulfill the vision if a lot of people buy into it. I’ll feel like a failure. My identity is tied to my performance in ministry. We have been seduced by the success of other ministries, and want to have the same success. The pressure to grow numerically is insane. Pastors are falling into depression. Recently there have been horrible headlines of pastors committing suicide. The stress of leading ministries and meeting metrics can be too heavy to bear. The allure and demand of church growth can be seductive indeed. If the Lord isn’t bringing increase (due to a failure to host the Holy Spirit and to boldly preach offensive truth), there is another spirit that is more than willing to extend a wretched, crooked hand. A demonic, wicked spirit of witchcraft thrives on control and manipulation. This spirit rebels against the methods of the Kingdom and against the purity of the Holy Spirit with tactics that will minister to the leader’s need for success. Please understand me. I’m not saying all focuses on numeric growth are impure. I’m really not. It’s possible to possess an apostolic and prophetic spirit and to see through the eyes of God into a future of impact and explosive growth. It’s possible to discern a coming harvest. It’s possible to have the heart of an evangelist and to cry out for the lost and for a church filled with new, Spirit-filled, hungry converts. It absolutely is. In fact, a passion for the harvest, a cry for souls, must radiate out of every pastor and leader. Sadly, however, the allure of church growth is rarely born from such a pure desire. Instead, an evil spirit is invoked, rarely deliberately, usually by default as an impure passion of the heart that demands satisfaction. Pastors souls are sold for the promise of a full house—a promise that is rarely delivered on. Further depression and failure is usually the result. Sometimes the church does explode, but not with burning zealots. Instead it’s a morgue, filled with people who are numb, cold and without signs of life. The remnant church is wising up. While I have and always will teach that we must honor pastors and refuse to move in rebellion to God’s established authority, a disturbing shift must come to the church, and fast. Pastors, we must stop using people to build our own kingdoms. God forgive us for building kingdoms of man on doctrines of demons in your name. ~Brian Ming, as quoted in Pharaoh in the Church The witchcraft necessary to coerce people to give financially, to serve the pastor’s vision and to build a ministry for impure reasons is extreme. It truly requires quite a few very powerful demons to anoint such a venture. Please understand, I’m not talking about pastors who are intentionally evil and manipulative. I’m talking about pastors who have heart issues, those who try to spiritualize their ventures, those who are attempting to grow their church just like most every other pastor they know, those who have been seduced but don’t know it. They need to be shocked out of their deception and into the rest and peace that comes from allowing the Lord to bring the increase instead. THE CHURCH WE ARE YEARNING FOR Someone asked how I'd like to see church services go. Here's what I said: Start with an hour of fiery intercession in the sanctuary prior to the service. Let it keep going as people show up for the service. Let the musicians play behind the prayer for the first 30 minutes or so of the service. Then, as prayer continues, let the musicians kick into some prophetic worship for a song or two. Open up the mic for decrees and declarations. Have the dancers and flaggers and others fill the altars. Encourage people to pace around the room or hit their face and contend. After a couple of hours or so, there might be a strong prophetic message, or just some declarations of the Word. Then flood the altars as people lead in prayers of repentance and reveal prophetic revelation that was received during the service. Of course, that’s one model, but the point I’m making is that the coming remnant church simply isn’t interested in most of what is offered today—at all. Pastors, when we realize the church service was never meant for assimilating seekers or evangelizing the lost, the stress of church growth falls off. The pressure to grow numerically can be replaced by the joy and passion of ministering to God. Again, yes, we most definitely can believe God for numerical growth—if that’s God’s desire for our particular local expression of the church. And, also, there are those who will over-spiritualize their small congregation. They argue that their focus on holiness and revival don’t allow for numerical growth. Ridiculous. Remember, where the fear of the Lord, the power of the Holy Spirit and bold preaching exist, people will respond. Many will mock. Many will marvel. The city will be impacted. The local church may or may not grow numerically, but it will in spiritual depth and the church in the city will be impacted. I’d encourage you to read my Charisma Magazine article, The Church We Crave But May Never See. Here’s something to consider from that article. Keep in mind, the casual seeker won’t be attracted to a church on fire unless they are ready to surrender all. The church may shrink in number. However, the Holy Spirit will give leadership that will shock us to the core. Check it out: For at least eight years specifically, and 23 years generally I've been teaching, writing articles, writing books, recording podcasts and posting videos about this very subject—extreme reformation in the church. Yet, the church service in nearly every Christian church looks the same (or worse) than it did decades ago. I'm just about done. Finished. I can't stand the thought of additional years of church experiences modeled after a wine skin that's been outdated for years—yet, I acknowledge that it's all I may have to choose from while I'm still on the earth. Reformation seems to be far off. The goal is not to hope for a more anointed old wine skin, but rather for such a radical reformation that it looks nothing like what we see today. Simply, what's coming will look more like an extreme prayer meeting with people laid out all over the place with fire and tears in their eyes than the casual, tired and predictable worship and teaching services we see today. Yes, the Sunday service will finally be the Upper Room experience that the burning, desperate remnant has been yearning for. Raging prayer, fervent prayer, passionate prayer will return to first place in the church.

#IFTTT #Facebook

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dalepwithchari · 6 years

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Storytelling for B2B startups: Avoiding ‘buzzword bingo’ to make your wonky enterprise company worth talking about

Buy some great High Tech products from WithCharity.org #All Profits go to Charity

If there’s one thing I learned from my time as both a journalist at The Wall Street Journal and Forbes and, now, advising a global venture capital firm on communications, it’s that storytelling can make or break a company.

This is especially true the more complicated and arcane a company’s technology is. Stories about online-dating and burrito-delivery apps are easily understood by most people. But if a company specializes in making technology for hybrid-cloud data centers, or parsing specialized IT alerts and cybersecurity warnings, the storytelling task becomes much harder — but, I would argue, even more important.

Sure, a wonky company will still be able to talk easily to its customers and chat up nerdy CIOs at trade shows. But what happens when they raise a Series C or D round of financing and actually need to reach a broader audience — like really big, potential business partners, potential acquirers, public investors or high-level business reporters? Often, they’re stuck.

It can be painful to watch. When I was a reporter, I was amazed at the buzzwords thrown at me by some technology companies trying to get me to write about them. For fun, my colleagues and I would put some of these terms into online “buzzword bingo” websites just to see what indecipherable company descriptions they would spit out. (Example: “An online, cloud-based, open-source hyperconverged Kubernetes solution.”) Often, when pressed, PR representatives couldn’t explain to me what these companies actually did.

These companies obviously never made it into my stories. And I would argue that many of them suffered more broadly from their overall lack of high-profile press coverage; large business publications like the ones for which I worked target the very big-company executives and investors these later-stage startups were trying to reach.

Now, of course, I’m on the other side of that reporter/company equation — and I often feel like a big chunk of my job is working as a technology translator.

A natural-born storyteller

So why is this B2B storytelling problem so common, and arguably getting worse? Lots of reasons. Many of these hard-to-understand companies are founded by highly technical engineers for whom storytelling is (not surprisingly) not a natural skill. In many cases, their marketing departments are purely data-driven, focused on demand generation, ROI and driving prospects to an online sales funnel — not branding and high-level communications. As marketing technology has gotten more and more advanced and specialized, so have marketing departments.

As a result, many B2B and enterprise-IT companies are often laser-focused on talking about their products’ specific bells and whistles, staying in “sell mode” for a technical audience and cranking out wonky whitepapers and often-boring product press releases. They’re less adept at taking a step back to address the actual business benefits their product enables. Increasingly, this tech-talk also plays well with the legions of hyper-specialized, tech-news websites that have proliferated to serve every corner of the technology market, making some executives think there’s no need to target higher-level press.

Everyone has a story to tell. It’s up you to figure out what your company’s is, and how to tell that story in a compelling, understandable fashion.

One prominent marketing and PR consultant I know, who has worked with hundreds of Silicon Valley startups since the 1980s, says she is “shocked” by how poorly many senior tech industry CEOs today communicate their companies’ stories. Many tend to “shun” communications, considering it too “soft” in this new era of data-obsessed marketing, the consultant Jennifer Jones, recently told me. But in the end, poor communications and storytelling can create or exacerbate business problems, and often affect a company’s valuation.

So how do you get to a point where you can talk about your company in plain terms, and reach the high-level audiences you’re targeting?

One tactic, obviously, is to ditch the jargon when you need to. The pitch you use on potential customers — who likely already have an intimate understanding of your market and the specific problems you’re trying to solve — is not as relevant for other audiences.

A big fund manager at Fidelity or T. Rowe Price, or a national business journalist, probably knows, for example, that cloud computing is a big trend now, or that companies are buying more technology to battle complex cybersecurity attacks. But do they really understand the intricacies of “hybrid-cloud” data center setups? Or what a “behavioral attack detection solution” does? Probably not.

The David versus Goliath angle

Another tip is to put your company story in a larger, thematic context. People can better understand what you do if you can explain how you fit into larger technology and societal trends. These might include the rise of free, open-source software, or the growing importance of mobile computing.

It’s also helpful to talk about what you do in relation to larger, more established players. Are you nipping away at the slow-growing, legacy business of Oracle/EMC/Dell/Cisco? As a journalist, I once wrote a story about a small public networking company called F5 Networks that specialized in making “application delivery controllers.” But the story mostly focused on F5’s battle with a much larger competitor; in fact, the editors titled the story “One-Upping Cisco.” That’s the angle most readers were likely to care about. Journalists, particularly, love these David versus Goliath type stories, and national business publications are full of them.

Start focusing on high-level storytelling earlier, not when you’ve already raised $100 million in venture funding and have several hundred employees.

Another key storytelling strategy is leveraging your customers. If your business is boring to the average person, try to get one of your household-name customers to talk publicly about how they use your technology. Does your supply-chain software help L’Oréal sell more lipstick, or UPS make faster package deliveries?

One of our portfolio companies had a nice business-press hit a few years ago by talking about how their software helped HBO stream “Game of Thrones” episodes. (The service had previously crashed because too many people were trying to watch the show.) You can leverage these highly visible customers for case studies on your website. These can be great fodder for your sales team as well as later press interviews, as long as they’re well-written and understandable. Try to get more customers to agree to this type of content when you sign the contract with them.

From “Mad Men” to math men

Finally, there’s the issue of marketing leadership inside tech companies. In my experience, most smaller, B2B or enterprise IT-focused startups have CMOs or VPs of marketing who are more focused on data and analytics than brand communications — more “math men” than “Mad Men.” This isn’t surprising, as these companies often sell data-rich products and have business models where PR and general advertising don’t directly drive sales (unlike, say, a company making a food-delivery app). The CEOs of these companies value data and analytics, too.

I encourage B2B tech CEOs to focus on hiring CMOs with some brand/communications experience, or at least a willingness to outsource it to competent partners who are experts in that area. After a couple of early rounds of funding, you should be outgrowing your highly specialized PR firm (if you even have one) that focuses on a narrow brand of trade publications, for example. These firms usually don’t have contacts at the bigger, national business and technology outlets that are read by big mutual fund managers, and the business development folks at Cisco or Oracle. Hiring ex-journalists — not technical experts — to write content and develop messaging can be a good idea, too.

In other words, start focusing on high-level storytelling earlier, not when you’ve already raised $100 million in venture funding and have several hundred employees. By that point, it can simply be too late: Your company has already been typecast by the trade press and written off by higher-level reporters, and sometimes even potential business partners, as too niche-y and hard to understand.

As a journalist, I learned that everyone has a story to tell. It’s up you to figure out what your company’s is, and how to tell that story in a compelling, understandable fashion. If you do, I’m pretty sure the business benefits will follow.

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Storytelling for B2B startups: Avoiding ‘buzzword bingo’ to make your wonky enterprise company worth talking about

#HotTrendsWithCharity.com #Storytelling for B2B startups: Avoiding ‘buzzword bingo’ to make your wonk

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1nebest · 6 years

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Now, of course, I’m on the other side of that reporter/company equation — and I often feel like a big chunk of my job is working as a technology translator.

A natural-born storyteller

Everyone has a story to tell. It’s up you to figure out what your company’s is, and how to tell that story in a compelling, understandable fashion.

So how do you get to a point where you can talk about your company in plain terms, and reach the high-level audiences you’re targeting?

The David versus Goliath angle

Start focusing on high-level storytelling earlier, not when you’ve already raised $100 million in venture funding and have several hundred employees.

From “Mad Men” to math men

0 notes