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interative-tekst-blog · 1 year

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Hii I'm the one who ask for the fluffy stuff with Akashi and Aomine ! Sorry I wasn't clear enough, my bad (and thanks for your oh-so adorable answer).They're separated, like each of them has his girlfriend ! No poly. Hope it's okay for ya

1st ask: Hi there! <3 So glad to discover a new knb blog haha. Can I have some fluffy time with Aomine & Akashi with their gf ? Like...dunno, take cares because their gf is exhausting because of school project... Ah it's up to you ! :D (sorry if my english isn't perfect i'm not native haha)

A/N: Hello! (´｡• ω •｡`) Thanks for clearing that up, I apologize for the long and unannounced hiatus on this blog (///￣￣///) I hope you like it! There is a general prologue and then it branches out into their separate ways. The parts for Aomine and Akashi will be separated and indicated (I hope that makes sense...). There is no warnings for this one! Just a lot of fluff! And academic suffering I guess.... This felt very real to write actually (ﾒ﹏ﾒ) Aomine's is also a bit flirty because that's what felt most right for him, I hope you don't mind! Enjoy! ~Admin JS

The day dragged on like flies on caramel, the syrupy smothness nauseating and entrapping, leaving you feeling in the emenency of drowning in the slow and sweet density of hours that refused to pass. If not for the pressing matters at hand, you would have given up on trying to work straight through this neverending day long ago, but with the deadline of this project fast approaching and your role in the group being scripting the entirety of the presentation, you decided to seclude yourself in the library in hopes of finishing off the base on which everyone will work out their own parts.

Your group of peers were as involved in the planning of the project as rats are involved in the admnistration of a professional kitchen — which is to say they intented to take all of the marbles and none of the responsability. You tried to resent them, but there was already enough on your plate to chisel away your forbearance for you to knowingly create a matter out of this. To put it simply, you rather just be done with it.

You felt the steady beating of your heart in your temples, rhythmic like the drumms that made thousands march into war, a collective percussion of thunder and lighting that, for a split second, even made your vision lose focus. You'd definetly be needing something for that headache later.

You use your tired hands to rub your face, trying to wipe away the exhaustion brought on by overworking yourself beyond the typical studying hours; ambition and sacrifice always walk hand-in-hand and you, aspiring and young student, seems somehow forever stuck in the liminal space between the two. You get your phone to check the time and catch a glimpse of your reflection on the sleek glass screen; your last year, and all of which that came with it, was visibly taking it's toll on you.

Checking the time, you knew the library would close soon. Only a few — those who were desperate in long and strenuous study sessions and the reckless, like yourself, who worked with little to no regard for their personal well being and health — remained in scattered tables full of their personal choices of research medias. You tried an experimental stretch and decided, as soon as you heard the painful cry for help coming from your spine in form of a loud and obnoxious "crack", that it was time to call it a day and give some rest to the tissues that held your existence together. It wasn't like the topics of your research were still making sense anyway; you'd get nowhere with this considering your current state of fatigue.

You had slowly started gathering your things, packing in no rush at all and even stopping at some point to just contemplate your aliveness and feel your own breathing, when you heard a familiar voice coming from behind you:

"I had a feeling I'd find you here."

Akashi Seijūrō

You turn in your chair and are greeted by Akashi's cordial smile, polished and sweet and elegant and everything that brings immediate peace to your mind. "Ah, Akashi-san!" you exclame no louder than a whisper, your expression surprised and joyful like a child's. You keep the cordiality out of habit, muscle memory from the majority of the time when your relationship must be kept out of prying eyes, despite the fact you are mostly alone on this part of the library.

The rumors circling the Akashi family heir are already too much without any real fuel to them, and the redhead prefered to retain at least this part of his life a private matter. To you, it was just as good. Remaing under the radar and avoiding all that came with being a known face in a school like Rakuzan was an awfuly difficult asset to obtain.

"You've forgotten, haven't you?" he asks, pulling the chair besides yours to sit down. There is no real bite to his words regardless of the contents of his phrase. You scour the corners of your drained mind to try and remmember if you had any plans programmed with him for today. When you do recall, you cover your mouth with yours hands, completely stunned.

"I'm so sorry, Akashi-san. Really. Time got away from me. I just wanted to get as most as possible done today and ended up forgetting we were meeting up..." you set your expression into a apologetic one, regretful of the choice you made when you decided to keep on going after-hours. You simply did not remmember your plans to meet up and go home together. "I've held you up so long as well..." you make an exasperated noise, lowering your head on your arms on the table "Ahhhh, I'm so sorry!"

"That's alright. You were imersed on your work. That's very respectable, _______. Besides, I was also finishing some pendencies from the council, so you haven't held me up at all." he touches your back and awaits expectantly for you to look up at him. When you do look up, kepping your face still half concealed by your arms, you notice how his smile is warm and affectionate as he moves his hand up to you hair to pet it, amusement so obvious in his expression that his eyes are almost closed. You feel your cheeks heating up at that, flushed by the carefree display of affection in a place so public. "I just wanted to know if our plans are still standing."

You have heard how some of the students on the corridors sometimes refer to him as Prince, or even as Emperor, and although most of the time those aliases seem to you just immature and vain and too constricting to define Akashi's personality, there are times when you can't help but think you've gotten yourself a prince charming straight out of a fairy tale.

One of thoses moments is when he's playing. In court, he's as capable and mighty and commanding as the most remarkable of the emperors of times long past and, even with the sudden change you felt in him on his first year after the Winter Cup's loss, his imposing excellence remained as a second skin to him. It was mesmerizing, watching him play, you pictured him as sublime as a force of nature — equal parts wonderful and frightening in a way that made it impossible to look away.

Another one of thoses times was when you see him smiling at you like that, with the set of his shoulders spelling nobility and poise, his eyes glinting with something candid and honeyed and when his actions suggested all of the devotion he felt for you. You love him, dearly, and you find reprieve in the fact that the feeling is mutual. You raise your head, moving your chair closer to his.

"O-of course!" you stutter "That's it... If you still want to..." you speak slowly, as if testing the waters; a pointless disquiet tainting your voice. You hear his hushed laughter and there's sparks flying in your heart and butterflies in your stomach as if his laugh is the sound angles make when they sing in devoted content. He finds you endearing, and it becomes obvious by the way he relaxes into a more youthful posture and behavior when by your side. You love seeing him in the council meetings, and training in court, with his posture firm and impressiv; but nothing brings you more joy than watching him slip into the adolescent boy he is when there is no invisible expectation to fullfill and drive him to perfection.

"Of course I want to." he answers, lowering his elbow to the table and using it to prop his head on his hand, finding a better position to look at you from. "I know we were just going home, but I think we deserve a treat after this much work. What do you say? Are you hungry?"

Your first instinct stil is to let your humbleness win you over, even after so much time with him. You know he doesn't mind taking you in fun — and, most times, expensive — outings; in fact, he has told you more than once how he loves to spoil you rotten. Even so, you bite your lip in reticence and inhibition before answering in the way of propriety that you family raised you to:

"Wouldn't it be a problem for you? I don't want to be a bother." you ask. He sighs, almost unaudibly, and holds on of your hands in his.

"Certainly not. You could never be a bother to me, ______." he is final in his response; you are sure you can the sound os a gavel ringing distantly. After this, his face softens with love and hope "What do you feel like eating?" he presses you for an answer just with the look on his eyes that, besides being gentle and patient, is also demanding. You smile shyly, feeling your body's response to the prospect of food. And good food, considering the places Akashi has taken you before. You hope he can't hear the growl coming from your stomach.

"How about some guioza?" you propose.

"Sounds great. I know just the place." he smiles, standing up and offering his hand to you. After you have also stood up, he takes you backpack with him; you try to stop him, but he's having none of that. "Come on, I believe the driver is already waiting for us by the gate." you walk with him, watching with fondness as he passes by the librarian and greets her. She seems almost as warmhearted as you. You try to take back you belongings, only for him to switch the arm he is using to carry it with until he frustrates all of your tries.

He holds the door open for you to pass in a real gentleman manner, smiling as you timidly cross the open passage. After you gone through, he goes after you, calling your name. That gives you a pause, turning on your heel to stare at him expectanly.

"When we are alone, it would please me greatly if you called me just Seijūrō."

You let your jubilance seep through your face in the form of a juvenile smile, finding unmatched gratification in noticing that he mirrors your expression; there he is, your Seijūrō. The version of himself he shows only to you. His words are like an echo of a conversation from long ago, when he first requested you this. Your heart skips a beat just like that first time.

"It would make me very happy to do that as well, Seijūrō."

You let him take your hand as you walk to the car, happy and warm and full of young love.

Aomine Daiki

You felt the soft warmth of hands on your tensed and weary shoulders and stretched your neck to look up at the source of that dark and sweet voice, rolling like molasses off Aomine's tongue and reminding you that the reason for every sugar rush you ever had since you met him was this saccharine tone.

You made a small murmured sound of greeting and composed your face into a more recptive expression, letting your youthful joy transpire into your features and allowing your lips to form a spent smile that revealed not only the whites of your teeth to the blue-haired boy but also your contentment with his presence.

"Oh, hm... Hi, Daiki. I was just finishing up." You whisper to him while you try to rub away the fatigue off of your eyes when his airy laugh fills the silence sorrounding both of you as he sits down on the chair opposite of yours, not even trying to keep his tone down. This granted some stares from tables closer to yours, but you dind't noticed; the gravity of his presence was so jarring that you could do nothing besides let yourself be pulled to orbit around him.

"They really didn't come to help you out at all, did they?" he shakes his head, clicking his tongue on his front teeth, incredulous when you purse your lips and shrug, responding with a neagative "hm-hm". "You should just take their names out of the project and not tell anyone. Your doing all the work anyway, so is only fair." He muses, unimpressed, like it's only logical.

"That's cruel, even for you." you laugh, gathering the rest of your belongings and packing everything up nicely enough. "You know I can't do that. Besides, I much prefer it this way. I can do everything how I so please and they don't get to question it. They only get to say 'Thank you, _______, you'd saved us so much time' and at least try not screw up the presentation. Y'know?" Aomine gives you an impressed whistle and rests his elbows on the table between you.

"That's bossy." he reaches in your direction and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his warm and calloused hand soft against the skin of your cheek, staring into your eyes like he just found one of the wonders of the world shining in them, showing you the most handsome, most desarming, most youthful and playful smile he has in store. "I love it."

You can feel your blush creeping up your face in the direction of you ears, like fire burning up a hill. Your heart if so full of delight in that moment, being the sole object to that gaze. Aomine stares at you like you are the most precious rarity he has ever had the honor to look upon and the verity that blooms in the bright of his dark blue eyes never fails to make you feel exactly like treasure. You're caught so off guard you don't now how to respond, but that is not a problem considering that Aomine continues talking to you.

"You know, I was alredy planning on taking you out to eat or something today, but I guess I'll have to take you to that new place you been nagging me about. You deserve it after all of this.work" your eyes roll at that, but you had, in fact, been talking a lot about that new ramen place that opened just down the school street. However, his intonation surprises you, the choice of placement for the emphasis seemingly strange, and your confusion must be clear in the furrow of your brow because he explains: "Since you seem so tired and all... I think your not well enough to walk all the way there."

You open you mouth to protest, yet more confused than you were before, your frown even deeper. When Aomine stands, faster than what should be possible for someone as tall and broad as him, comprehennsion starts to dawn on you like the first lights of the day. Your slow and tired brain cannot bring you to react fast enough and, when you finally realize, he is alredy scooping you up into his arms along with all of your belongings.

"Daiki!" you protest, trying your best to keep your school skirt in place while on his firm hold and also trying to stop you backpack and folders from falling to the gound. You pass by the librarian in record speed right as she notices the ruckus your sappy boyfriend is causing in this place of knowledge. Most of the other worn-out students don't even have time to react to him as you pass them, you don't even notice how some girls stare in envious amazement. You turn to stare at Aomine's face and scold him but lose the courage as soon as you notice his expression, shinning eyes and big childish smile composing his features into something you cheerish more than anything else in this world.

It's insanely captivating, this bright expression of his, — which is something you have alredy said to him, albeit his desbelief in it — and before you even realize your expression starts mirroing his. You feel silly, and happy and warm and the long day of work seems like a speck of a faraway memory by the time he has ran with you out of the school library.

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jasonntodd · 1 year

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Hi, I'm sorry if you've addressed this somewhere already but what happened to your Mass Effect mods on Nexusmods? I was just about to download your practical bodies mod when I noticed they were hidden. Just wondering if you hide them while you update or if you were overhauling your mod pages? I adore your mods for ME3 :]

hi! i’m flattered and thank you for liking my mods. i’ll use your ask as an announcement for those who are following me for mass effect modding - i hope that’s okay.

thank you to everyone who has supported and downloaded my mods these past few months. i’m forever grateful for the support, even though there were definitely moments that made me extremely sad and upset due to the hateful and misogynistic/homophobic/transphobic comments i would receive on my mods. while not the reason for my hiatus, i have to say, who knew buff women would trigger so many people? it certainly hasn’t helped getting the amount of hate these past few months. but modding definitely helped me (or at the very least, distracted me) during the last couple of months which have been extremely rough for me mentally, so i’m grateful to have discovered it and through it, the amazing community.

however, due to reasons i’m going to be taking an impromptu hiatus for a little because im feeling pretty conflicted due to it. i know this is sudden but i’ll still be active on my tumblr like always and my ao3 for those who follow me for my stories, so you guys can send me asks and whatnot and i’ll answer. if you’ve followed me for a little, you’ll know i love to just shitpost and reblog things and tumblr has been a safe space for me for a very long time - but i’m taking all of my mods off nexus bc i’m not comfortable with keeping them up for the time being. some things have happened behind the scenes and i personally don’t want to keep them up right now because it’s upsetting - i know i posted some WIPS over the past few days and they were exactly that, but due to said issues that just happened those will have to remain in limbo as i figure some things out.

things might change of course and i may bring the mods back sooner rather than later, depending fully on how i’m feeling at the moment, but until i’m comfortable enough to do so, they’ll remain hidden. i really do apologize for the inconvenience. if you want the mod, i have no problems sending it to you if you message me off anon. this also goes for anyone else as well!

thanks always for your support; it definitely meant the world to me.

#mass effect #mass effect 3 #mass effect modding #mele modding #my mods #i’m sorry for anyone who followed me for my mods #this decision def does make me sad but it is what it is #i may or may not unhide some of my mods like the ported sims hairs and outfits in the coming weeks #but for now everything else is on lockdown until i figure some things out #ask and thou shalt receive

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alixdelcourt · 3 years

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Penguin Love story

Pairing Shoto Todoroki x female reader

Genre : angst to fluff

WC and warnings : 1.1 k / Loneliness and feeling abandoned.

Note : Penguins express their love to their mates by offering them rocks and pebbles. What an adorable and moving way to say I love you, isn't it ?

Hey everyone, I am back ! I am sorry, I was on hiatus and I didn’t warned you, I am so sorry ! I promise that I’ll catch all your requests up quickly ! Today’s work is for @impalawrites Adelie’s collab. I am sorry it took my like forever to achieve it, really sorry. I hope that you’ll like it, please let me know !

Love ain’t easy every day, especially with a pro hero, and especially with a pro hero who wants to prove his worth to the world. Shoto Todoroki was your beloved absent husband, busy saving people and keeping order in town. Of course, you’re extremely proud of him, no doubt on it, but you kinda felt really lonely recently. Like for example yesterday, you didn’t saw him at all. He left before you woke up and came back when you were sleeping. You missed him, which sounds ridiculous because you and him, as a married couple, live under the same roof, in the same house, and even shared a bed together… But right now, you just came back from your own work, which has normal basic schedule, and this big house felt too empty for you. No husband, no kids around… Just you and yourself.

Okay, it’s useless to wallow in self-pity ! You decide to cook Shoto’s favorite meal for dinner, and maybe if you call him and tell him that it’s homemade noodles tonight, he’ll find his way to come back early and have dinner with you. But nothing happened as you planned…

“Honey ! How was your day ? Not too exhausting ?”

“Not that bad, and not that tiring, but I found enough energy to spend more than an hour in the kitchen ! I cooked you homemade noodles. Your mother gave me her recipe ! It’ll be ready in half an hour, just enough time for you to come back home !”

“Oh… That’s so sweet of you, honey, but I can’t tonight… I am stuck with some paperwork that I really need to finish. I’ll be home late. Don’t wait for me for dinner.”

“I am not hungry… I’ll let you a plate in the fridge. You’ll just have to warm it later. Good night Shoto.”

“Don’t hang up ! Are you okay ? Your voice sounds like… You’re gonna cry…”

“It’s nothing…”

“No. You seem… disappointed. I am really sorry, but I promise that I’ll do my best to finish this boring office work early !”

You hold on a slight sob, but can’t help the tears falling down.

“You know what, Shoto ? I would rather see you with lovers. Or even a mistress. At least one of us would be having fun !”

And you hang up and went directly in your bed. You cried a lot, curled up against Shoto’s pillow. You cried because his absence hurts you, but also because what you said was true.

You were a bit more calm when he finally came back home, really late at night. He probably already ate… You hear him go to the bathroom, take a shower and wear his pajamas before joining you in the bedroom. And what was your surprise when you saw him snuggling in bed, with a jewel box and some of your favorite chocolate. You were lowkey angry, and sad, and mostly disappointed, but you couldn’t help but appreciate his efforts to try and make it up to you. You can see that he is sincerely apologizing, that he really felt sorry. At least, he’s not a total moron… He remembered that you didn’t like flowers and preferred chocolates… But you doubt it when you opened the other box. Sure, it was some fancy, beautiful and expensive jewelry. It only made you angrier, and extremely hurt. You throw the box away with an enraged movement. Sure that he didn’t even take a look to that jewel, since he had no time to do so. So you were looking at something his secretary chose for you. And it disgusted you.

Shoto looks at you, kind of confused by your behavior. His brother assured him that a jewel and some attention could fix the problem, so why do you seem so furious ?

“You know what, Shoto ? Every single rock on your path would’ve been worthier than this cheap junk because you would’ve picked it yourself and maybe you would have think of me during so, instead of letting your secretary chose a random jewel that she’ll like ! You should gave it to her.”

You burst into cries, uncontrolled sobs pouring from your chest, where you could fell your heart squeeze from pain. He tries to hug you, but you push him away. He doesn’t understand !

“I don’t want your money. I don’t want chocolates or whatever cute attention. Even if it’s cute. I want time ! You get that ? I want time with you, I want my husband with me. I want your affection, and more than five minutes a day ! That’s just enough time for good morning or good night… I want more… Do you realize that you might actually see criminals more than your own wife ? Whatever. Good night, Shoto.”

And you went to sleep on the couch. And when you woke up in the morning, he wasn’t in the house. He left already…

In the evening, just as you finished work and were heading home, you received a text message. “Don’t cook tonight.” Here it goes again… But not even an hour later, your husband came back home, hours earlier than usual ! With another jewelry box. Maybe he chose it himself this time. But when you opened it, you found… a rock. A vulgar pebble. You remain speechless, looking at a smiling Shoto.

“I love you, Y/n, and I married you to have you by my side for the rest of my life. So what’s the point in being a hero and saving lives if I lost you doing so ? You are my everything and I am sorry for neglecting you. I promise that I will not do it again. I’ll hire a sidekick or two to have a more normal schedule. And I’ll be with you. Every single morning, and every single night. We can even start a family if you like, so we could give our future child the whole bag of pebbles that I picked up today. I even found a marble near a school during patrol. So please, Y/n, would you forgive me ?”

And how could you say no to this ? His declaration was the best medication for your wounded heart.

“Of course that I am forgiving you, Shoto. I love you too… I love you so much ! But why did you tell me to not cook today ? We have nothing for dinner !”

“We’re eating outside tonight ! And I took a few days off in this week, so maybe could we go somewhere out of town or do whatever you would like…”

You smirked a bit.

“I kinda have an idea about an activity that I really missed doing with you… And we could start right now !”

______________________________________

Here is ! Please let me know if you liked it or not, and if you did like it, feel free to share so other people could enjoy it as well :)

Don't forget to submit a request if you'd like one, I would be happy to oblige !

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blackswaneuroparedux · 4 years

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Anonymous asked: Thoughts on Jane Birkin? - Talented elegant actor-musician-model? Overrated at everything but she was pretty? Or, never thought about it, but she did design a nice bag for Hermes?

My thoughts about Jane Birkin is that she is and will always remain an all round feminine icon. Plain and simple.

That’s not just my contrarian view because she was an icon that overlapped into my grandparents’ and parents’ generation of the late 60s and 70s but it’s also the view of many French today too. I knew of her because her songs alongside Françoise Hardy and other French chanteuse were always playing on my parents stereo system growing up overseas. Indeed so well-documented is the love affair between Jane Birkin and Serge Gainsbourg, that to picture it retrospectively is to watch a flickering series of film stills in one’s mind. Enter the young British actress in 1970s Paris, basket swinging nonchalantly from one arm, baby daughter clasped carefully in the other, dancing down Boulevard Saint-Germain with the thoughtful French musician’s adoring figure at her side. They loved, smoked and fought fervently, their ten-year-long affair an archetype of that between musician and muse in bohemian Paris, and 40 years after its dissolution, the French still can’t get enough.

As you allude to in your question, she has famously said of herself and Serg Gainsbourg that, “He was a great man. I was just pretty.” Which has led a small minority - especially those in her native England - to be dismissive of her as a long forgotten pretty face of the 70s and who was over-rated because she was nothing without riding on the coat tails of the crooning bad boy, Gainsbourg. On the face of it it was a very disingenuous remark to make because Gainsbourg was indeed a great man (as a musician and French cultural male icon) but she was so much more than a pretty face. I strongly suggest that she was just being her usual self-deprecating Anglo-self and one who remains to be a tad embarrassed at 73 years old to be continued to be lauded as a genuine timeless French style and chanteuse icon.

No one can doubt that Jane Birkin has always had some talent as an artist. Birkin has enjoyed a long career in the arts as a singer, songwriter, actress, and director. Her longevity is one proof of her staying power. Arguably though, it is her reputation as a style icon, and more specifically being the namesake of the iconic Hermès Birkin bag for which she is best known today. She might well have been Gainsbourg’s baby doll (his words) but she was very much her own popular muse and actress.

This may surprise many but Jane Birkin has appeared in over 70 films over several decades. As an actress it is often forgotten how good she is because most of her films were made in France and she rarely did films outside of France.

She was already known even before she hooked up with Gainsbourg. She was born in 1946 to an actress mother, Judy Campbell, and her Royal Navy lieutenant-commander and spy, David Birkin. Her mother was an acclaimed actress of her generation and muse to the older Noel Coward. She had a typical upbringing that one might call comfortably posh upper middle class. She was already married at 17 to film composer, John Barry (yes, the same John Barry who composed all the music for the James Bond films and other Hollywood films (Out of Africa, Dances with Wolves, Cotton Club etc) in 1965 but divorced in 1968 with custody of their daughter. Birkin quickly became part of the swinging London scene in the 1960s and appeared briefly in a handful of films.

Birkin was already well known but it was her nude turn in Michelangelo Antonioni’s 1966 film Blow-Up that really put her on the map. Even today it’s seen as one of the iconic films of the swinging sixties.

She famously arrived in Paris unable to speak French with her newborn daughter in her arms. The story goes that she was offered the lead role in the 1968 French film Slogan alongside Gainsbourg after sobbing through her screen test. Starring alongside Serge Gainsbourg, Birkin performed with him on the movie’s theme song. It was on that film set that they would begin their truly passionate relationship as well as artistic collaborations throughout the 1970s.

Indeed a year later in 1969 they both released the song that has forever defined them both to non-French people around the world, the duet “Je t’aime…moi non plus” which was met with scandal and disapproval by the Vatican and banned in many countries.

It may have solidified Birkin’s status as the British-born emblem of French chic but in all honesty it also drowned out her notable acting talents. Although Birkin took a brief hiatus from acting to return as Bardot's lover in the 1973 film Don Juan or If Don Juan Were A Woman (for which she got rave reviews because she held her own against Bardot),

it was only until 1975 in Gainsbourg’s own first film Je t’aime…moi non plus that her acting was properly honoured. Again, because of the damn song, people forget that she was nominated for Best Actress César Award (The French version of the Oscars or the Brit’s version of the BAFTAs). To be nominated for a César as best actress in a culture of truly talented actresses is saying something.

This wasn’t a flash in the pan. She was nominated again in 1984 for Best Actress César Award for her role as Alma in La Pirate - directed by her then partner, Jacques Doillon with whom she did another critically acclaimed film La Fille Prodigue (1981). Her work led her to work on stage with critically acclaimed directors such as Patrice Chéreau. She worked with director Herbert Vesely on Egon Schiele Exzess und Bestrafung in 1980, appearing as the mistress of Austrian artist Egon Schiele, played by Mathieu Carrière. Jacques Rivette collaborated with her in Love on the Ground (1983). The jury of the 1985 Venice Film Festival recognised Birkin's performance in Dust as amongst the best of the year, but decided not to award a best actress prize because it was decided by the jury that all of the actresses they judged to have made the best performances were in films that already won major awards - Dust won the Silver Lion prize so she lost out.

In 1991 she was again nominated for a César Award but this time as best supporting actress in the classic La Belle Noiseuse directed by Jacques Rivette and starring Michel Piccoli and Emmanuelle Béart.

She did of course English films but much more sporadically. She put in a famous turn in both the delightful Hercule Poirot movies starring Peter Ustinov, Death on the Nile and Evil Under the Sun. She also appeared in Merchant Ivory's A Soldier's Daughter Never Cries (1998) (which also used her song "Di Doo Dah”). In 2016 she had the lead role in La femme et le TGV, a short film directed by Swiss filmmaker Timo von Gunten. The film was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Live Action Short Film. I believe after it was widely reported that she had no plans to return to acting.

I think it’s the parochialism of the Anglo cultural world that has led to this misconception that she wasn’t an actress of note when in fact she has always been up there with the best of French actresses of her generation.

As a singing icon she has been frozen in time. Her fame for one song have clouded a proper critical appraisal of her singing talents. And I think here I have to be honest and say that her critics - from a purely singing technical point of view - might have a point her being over hyped. Not that Jane Birkin ever said she was a great singer as she described herself self-deprecatingly as singing through more keys than a locksmith.

As a singer, Birkin is of course is known for that song that cheekily and perhaps even enviously reinforces the tropes the non-French world have about the French and amour. In 1969, she and Gainsbourg released the duet "Je t'aime... moi non plus" ("I love you ... me neither"). Gainsbourg originally wrote the song for Brigitte Bardot. But Bardot famously declined to sing the track because she found it "too erotic" and she was married at the time.

Although Birkin started out in films, she preferred to focus more on singing than acting. This was primarily because of Serg Gainsbourg who saw Birkin as his muse and wrote songs for her. She released an album in 1975 entitled Lolita Go Home and in 1978 called Ex Fan des Sixties, with the help of Gainsbourg's songwriting. Her music was successful in France, but not in her home country of England. She has made more than a dozen albums, nearly all in French and perhaps one or two in her native English.

One cannot escape the nagging feeling when I listen to some of her albums - really the later ones - that if she had attempted a career as an English recording artist, she would have stayed a minor singer. If fished out of her small pond and dropped into the music ocean, then Birkin would surely in the words of one music critic, “be engulfed by the plankton of mediocrity”.

And so the troubling truth that must be faced is that because she has been granted access to the ranks of the iconic, it is more because of our interest in the intriguing liaison she had with the maverick Gainsbourg more than anything else.

There is no doubt that her marshmallow accent, reedy voice and modern look made Jane Birkin a singing idol. She has a sense of discretion that is inversely proportional to her dazzling repertoire, which is studded with such astounding masterpieces as ‘Je t’aime… moi non plus’, ‘Swimming Pool’, ‘The Pirate’ and ‘Les dessous chics’. But her later recordings such as Le Symphonique, in which she is accompanied by a 90-piece orchestra - are mostly re-worked recordings of her songs with Gainsbourg who had died in 1991. Or take her 1996 album Arabesque which featured re-workings of Gainsbourg’s music, along with instrumentals backed by five Arabic musicians. Nearly all her later albums are quite mediocre.

This isn’t her fault so much as it is the musical artistry of Gainsbourg. He was the puppeteer behind the promulgation of this 'veule aesthetic', this aesthetic of weak plaintive croaking. But he was perhaps the first French singer who knew that manipulating the media would lead to manipulating record sales. Gainsbourg once had a job punching holes into métro tickets on Paris' underground before this ‘poinçonneur de lilas’ went on to almost single-handedly drag France's chanson tradition into the postmodern age. He sat in the opposite corner to the great chanson Musketeers: Leo Ferré, Georges Brassens and Jacques Brel. Gainsbourg is known in France for having cast himself in twin roles: Gainsbourg the musician and Gainsbarre the provocateur.

But there is also a definite divide in his musical production with a pre-1971 period that has a foot in chanson with driving melodies and Boris Vian narratives and the other foot in the fledgling pop tradition, and a post-1971 period that was driven more and more by dodgy electronic drumbeats, tiresome perpetual punning, and repetitive allusions to la femme enfant and Lolita-esque love (his last partner, Bambou, was 30 years his junior).

It remains difficult, therefore, to see how anyone with an ear for melody could think that much of Gainbourg's non-chanson output is melodiously pleasing. Much of his production seems so excruciatingly the work of an ageing pervert with personal hygiene issues.

My French friends, including one of my apartment neighbours in particular - of an older generation with whom I’ve grown close to - will put me through the wringer for saying anything bad about Gainsbourg and Birkin as singers. I just feel no one should be above a critical appraisal. Worse, it becomes very difficult to say anything critical for fear of being told that you just have not understood Gainsbourg's genius (surely Jarvis Cocker and Portishead can't be wrong!) But in reality there is very little to understand. He gave up trying to sing early on - the songs I really do like and find interesting - and quickly became the one-trick pony until his unfortunate death in May 1991 at 62 years old: a suggestive lyric about a questionable relationship here, a pun on every other word as an excuse for poetics there, slurred together with the voice of a sneering old man. The man stood out, broke away from troubadour-like folklore, but ultimately a tad mediocre.

The truth is Birkin without Gainsbourg was never much of a truly great singer. Combined with their public spats, Birkin reportedly grew tired of Gainsbourg's drinking and melancholy habits, so much so it became impossible to live with. They separated in 1980 despite never being married, despite reports of the contrary. Birkin later said that their friendship and his songwriting improved after they split. “You could talk back to him for once,” she said. “You were not just his creation any more.” As much as she was his muse, she was Pygmalion to his Prof. Henry Higgins. But the sad and prosaic truth is that without his unique style of songs to carry her limited singing range she was dreadfully exposed outside of Gainsbourg’s repertoire.

This was brought home to me when I listened to her cover version of Cohen’s iconic song, ‘Hallelujah’. Cohen's lyrics tell of David composing a song in praise of God, he describes the euphony that 'hallelujah' forms in his prayer, "the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall, the major lift." Birkin on the other hand warbled her way through. As she said once of her singing, she went through more keys than a locksmith.

Does Jane Birkin fare better as a style icon? Yes, she does. Absolutely.

To understand the Birkin bag one has to understand how Jane Birkin a Parisienne fashion style icon without her necessarily wanting to be one.

The quintessential trope of Parisienne woman is a conflation we likely owe to the framing of the 1950s and ’60s mavens of French popular culture like Françoise Hardy, Catherine Deneuve, and Brigitte Bardot as French icons, but who remain eminently tied to Parisian mythology - their reverence to a billion-dollar fashion archetype (thank you LVMH) is as reductive to the real women of Paris as it is to the women aspiring to be them. Of course this kind of Parisienne chic exists - a walk down the rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré in the 8th arrondissement of Paris should satisfy the many star struck ‘American Emily’s’ coming to Paris (what a God awful Netflix drama it is).

But like London or New York or even Rome and Milan, there is no such thing as one Parisian style. There’s a plurality of Parisian styles and personalities - that’s obvious from walking the different arrondissements of Paris.

Jane Birkin in her day brought her own style to fit her British personality that was a far cry from the elegantly and expensively dressed mavens. From her laissez-faire fringe, to her layered necklaces, vintage denim, peasant blouses and white t-shirts, she wowed Parisienne women.

Today if you ever wander around Paris looking at the younger girls - or look at French young girls sporting their Paris street chic style on instagram or other social media - they call it Paris street chic. It’s not fashion, it’s a street style.

It’s really bunch of every day clothing items and accessories stylishly thrown together. So it’s not surprising to learn that the original source of French street chic started with Jane Birkin. It was Birkin who ‘pioneered’ the kind of off-duty dressing you now see all over the streets of Paris. I say pioneered but the truth is she dressed for herself without even wanting or trying to become a French style icon.

Still as fashionistas will tell you, Birkin was always several decades ahead of the style curve (easy for them to say). It was stylish but above all it was timeless. It amuses me no end that when one sees doe eyed American girls who are so enamoured by French girl fashion but don’t realise they owe their thanks to an English girl.

I’m sure it amuses Birkin too because she always thought her Haute-hippie style and free spirit was her way to insulate her personal insecurities about how well dressed and stylish haute bourgeois Parisian women were in their Chanel and YSL clothing. Her style is her own, as she said to Vogue, “I buy things often, but I sleep in them for two weeks, and then they really look quite rough.”

If there is common ground between the elegantly dressed mavens of high end brand fashion houses and the ultra casual minimalist street wear it is around the very simple Parisian quality of simplicity. Simplicity - not necessarily in colour or print but in the total look. Simple but important enough for a younger generation of Parisienne women should be free to express themselves free from the grips of a generations-old myth.

In a nutshell if Birkin’s style and influence endures it’s because her style is about simplicity.

Nevertheless her place as a style icon rests upon a simple straw basket (or wicker basket). However, in 1981 a chance encounter on a plane would result in the straw basket’s replacement by the world’s most desired leather bag - the Hermès Birkin bag.

In the 70s she was mainly known for her use of a straw/wicker basket which she used instead of a regular handbag. She was famous for her straw basket as she went everywhere with it, even dancing at the most exclusive of clubs or eating at the finest dining places. She carried all kinds of bits and bobs, including baby milk bottles, diapers, and baby change wear as well as collecting trinkets on her journeys around Paris. It was seen as a stylish English eccentricity by the Parisians.

There is famous story about Jane Birkin and her straw basket that has entered into legend. The straw basket bag’s anonymous shape and generous size lent it to concealment, so when, during a lavish Christmas evening spent at the famous Parisian Bistro Maxim’s with Gainsbourg, the young English actress slipped a few pieces of the institution’s fine monogrammed crockery into it, nobody batted an eyelid. It was only later, when the basket slipped from her wrist while signing an autograph and sent her stash of china flying across the floor, that she was found out. In a perfect act of Parisian discretion a kindly waiter collected it up for her and replaced it in the basket. “A gift from Maxim’s,” he is reported to have whispered to her. “If you require more, you only have to ask.”

In 1981, Birkin was on a short flight from Paris to London. Carrying her famous straw basket, she placed it in the overhead compartment of her seat. However, the lid of the basket opened, and the contents spilled all over the floor and on the seats around her. Sitting next to her and assisting her in retrieving the contents of her basket was the late executive of Hermès, Jean-Louis Dumas. Birkin complained to Dumas that she was unable to find a suitable leather weekend bag that she liked. According to folklore, the remainder of the flight consisted of the pair designing a bag together and sketching ideas on an air sickness bag.

Fast forward three years and a prototype handbag was developed and presented to Jane Birkin – the Hermès Birkin bag. The bag, crafted from supple leather and handmade in France by a single, highly trained artisan, and takes up to 24 hours to complete. Designed specifically to provide ample room for jet-setting women, the bag quickly became a fashion icon and status symbol for women worldwide. The Birkin bag comes in a range of sizes, leathers, exotic skins, and hardware, with new colours introduced each season and limited edition versions of the bag crafted occasionally.

Since the creation of the very first Birkin bag, Jane Birkin had always carried one. However, true to her unique style and fashion, she continually customised her bags with beads, trinkets, protest stickers, and other titbits to create a unique look. Birkin even defaced her namesake’s bag on Japanese TV in 2008. The fashion icon repeatedly stamped on a tan-coloured Birkin bag to make it look “unique.”

Not surprisingly, the customisation of the Birkin bag caught on quickly and “defacing” Birkin bags is now a modern and trendy pastime practiced by D list celebrities including Kim Kardashian, Tamara Ecclestone, and many of today’s so-called fashion icons and social media style influencers.

Commendably Birkin auctions off her complimentary Birkin bags from Hermès for charitable causes. She often works with Amnesty International on humanitarian issues and donates her yearly royalties for the Birkin bag (approximately $50,000 per year) to a charity of her choice. Jane Birkin has said she now rarely uses the famous handbag that bears her name. In an interview with the BBC she told the BBC that if, like her, she used to fill the bag with "junk... and half the furniture from your house, it's a very, very heavy bag. Now I fill my pockets like a man, because then you don't actually have to carry anything."

In typical Jane Birkin style, she doesn't own one.

Jane Birkin will always be France’s favourite “petite Anglaise” as she was often known. And therein lies the clue why she remains beloved French icon despite her being English for two main reasons that come to mind.

Firstly, I suspect it’s because of her remarkable quality to be down to earth and cheerfully optimistic in public. Above all she displays a wonderful talent for mocking herself and not taking herself seriously. When for instance she was invited to take a role in a theatre production of a play by the 17th-century French writer Marivaux, she thought she was in a play by Marie Vau! The French have always been beguiled by her because of the stardust of the Sixties.

Despite Birkin being diagnosed with leukaemia in 2002, she said she conducted her life and love affairs with “an absolutely unfounded optimism”. That is not in doubt. With the recent publication of her diaries (Munkey Diaries 1957-1982 - a fantastic read) a more fuller picture has emerged that have further endeared her to the French.

Birkin was always riddled with insecurities, “I think I’m nothing, I’m persecuted by women who I love more than myself... Oh for the face of Nastassja Kinski, of Fanny Ardant, oh, the talent, the courage, the qualities. I have nothing interesting to say...” Above all she was convinced she was “suffering from mediocrity and no personality”, and wanted above all was to be loved. England never gave her that love, France did so happily. Even today France openly loves her.

Secondly, the French, especially the Parisians, love her because she embraces the French way of life with gusto and gaeity. Birkin speaks French fine but she stumbles in her heavily accented French. But she doesn’t mind and neither do the French. She was schooled in England into a culture where it’s okay to stumble, to try and fail, to be less than perfect. However, the old, rote, didactic, shame-based French schooling system dies hard. French people are often afraid to speak English unless they can feel assured it is impeccable at the same time - alomost in contradiction - they feel put out by foreigners who simply speak English to them without even having the courtesy to speak a little French, they think it rude and respond accordingly. But Birkin is so transparent and open to falling flat on her face that I think the Parisians find it strangely endearing.

Birkin is that living truism that you don’t have to be French to be a Parisian icon of style and especially when beauty pertains to age.

Outside of native born French women, Brigitte Bardot, Françoise Hardy, Catherine Deneueve, Jeanne Moreau, Fanny Ardant, Juliette Binoche, Inés de la Fressange and one or two others (Isabelle Huppert is an outlier of arthouse chic style), there have been other non-French women besides Jane Birkin who have personified Parisian chic and style: Sylvia Vartan, Charlotte Rampling, Nastassja Kinski, Kristin Scott Thomas, and Carla Bruni, to name but a few. Each has come to embody ‘Parisian style’ without ever being raised here but now very much live and breathe the Parisienne spirit.

Just as importantly Paris, like French culture as a whole, values beauty especially as it ages. There are many seasons to women as there are to make fine wine. This is one reason why Jane Birkin endures even at the age of 73 years old. Style icons like Jane Birkin and others like Inés de la Fressange (who was the face of Chanel for so long and is now going strong at 63 years old) have given a well deserved middle finger to the notion that there is a codified set of rules for fashion and beauty for women over 50 years old.

Indeed this is one of the secrets of living in Paris, it knows how to renew and refresh itself without losing its unique identity e.g. the model and actress Jeanne Damas, is arguably this current generation’s Jane Birkin and all power to her.

The stylish contributions of all these iconic women, and especially Jane Birkin, is a testament of why the allure of Paris as a cultural centre will continue to endure seamlessly because it values the aesthetic truth that true style is beauty that timelessly matures.

Birkin said once she was in no doubt she would always be best known for her erotic record Je t'aime, moi non plus. Of course she under sells herself as she has always done because she is so much more.

Compare her to modern style icons. Kim Kardashian would be the nearest but her fame as a style icon rests on one cynically contrived (and boring) sex tape, a narcissistic family TV reality show, and being married to a grossly deluded rap singer. I don’t think the modern day airheads are true style icons but fashion victims because as Yves Saint Laurent once memorably put it, “Fashions fade, style endures”.

Jane Birkin will endure. Her contribution to French cultural life has been immense. The gap-tooth smile that looks irrepressibly cool, the messy fringe, the long string bean legs, the ability to elegantly wear denim for any and every situation, the reason she made a lowly wicker basket her bag of choice all year long. We may never know why, but honestly it’s not worth questioning at this point because it was so seriously chic - is one even allowed to say the word chic again? When it comes to Birkin, it’s a word that bears repeating.

Birkin might cheerfully be accepting of the fact that for an older generation much of her fame still rests on one scandalous song but for the contemporary generation it will be the Hermès Birkin bag.

"It's a rather extraordinary record," Birkin said once. "Perhaps more interesting than the bag." I daresay Serg Gainsbourg would agree about the song and the bag.

Ah yes that bag. The Birkin bag. To me it’s not a fashion item but a life saver.

From mothers juggling diapers and milk bottles whilst chasing after their toddlers in stores to busy career women hurriedly scooping up and stuffing in reams of files, phone and lap top while rushing off their feet to their next meeting all can thank ‘la petite Anglaise’ for her Birkin bag.

I know I do. I use mine for a work lap top, mobile phone, work files and folders, pens, chewing gum, girls stuff (make up kit and tampons), a spare pair of knickers, sun glasses, gloves, an apple, a bottle of water, playing cards, a cigar case (and cutter and lighter), and a few books to read when I fly on a business trip.

Thanks for your question.

#question #ask #jane birkin #serg gainsbourg #icon #birkin bag #paris #parisienne #style #music #fashion #paris street chic #culture #society #england #1960s #personal #france #film #femme #beauty

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dismalzelenka · 3 years

Text

Dawn

Heyyy! I'm breaking my DA hiatus to submit this brief moderately lengthed ok maybe it got a little out of hand fluff idek anymore anyway it’s for @dapolyshippingday!

Takes place as sort of a postlude in the Your Arms Feel Like Home universe. Cullen/Amell/Jowan, 4500 words. Explicit. AO3 Link Here.

Enjoy!

There was always something otherworldly about seeing the dawn through the skylight windows. Solona was plenty used to seeing those telltale streaks of color from the other end of the day, usually following hours of binge drinking or manic painting.

Waking up to them was much, much rarer.

It took a minute or two to shake the sleep from dream clouded eyes, transfixed as she was on whatever weird liminal feeling this bizarrely early morning instilled in her. Piece by piece, memories of last night returned.

For once, she had agreed to keep the apartment booze-free for a full twenty-four hours. Jowan had insisted. She'd protested thoroughly, of course. "Come on, it's my birthday!" she'd begged through pleading, sparkling eyes, but he'd remained firm.

"Cullen? Back me up here!"

He'd merely shrugged, carefully adjusting the glasses her flailing had knocked askew. "There's a first time for everything, isn't there?"

His flat response drew a rare chuckle from Jowan, who up til that point had been nervously smoothing the front of his blue and black striped button up with unsteady hands.

This was new territory for all of them.

"I swear, love, you'll be happy to have remained sober for this," Jowan promised. The quickly masked wince on his face further highlighted the unprecedented nature of the situation. An unfamiliar familiarity. A pet name she hadn't heard in months, one that felt as foreign now to her ears as it seemed to taste on his lips.

Cullen cleared his throat and broke the uncomfortable silence. "Shall we be off then? Wouldn't want to be late."

"Says you," Solona grumbled. She grabbed her signature leather jacket and bent down to finish lacing up her boots. "Neither of you have said where you're taking me."

"That's what surprises are," Jowan said, affectionately ruffling her hair.

There it was again. A telltale stiffness to a familiar motion, a measure of distance to something that used to flow as naturally as moving water.

The cab ride was silent, but not entirely uncomfortable. Cullen had passed the driver a crumpled slip of paper that presumably contained the address, muttering an awkward thank you in broken Orlesian before clambering into the back seat.

Jowan sat to her right, plaid green and brown scarf clashing horribly as usual with his shirt, shaggy hair unkempt alongside what was at this point a perpetual five o'clock shadow. He had a way of looking thoroughly uncomfortable in almost every setting imaginable, but the warmth of his hand on her thigh told her he was trying his best today.

Cullen sat at her left, curly blonde hair styled back neatly with gel. He'd chosen a maroon sport coat to wear over a black polo with a golden lion stitched onto the pocket. Tucked into dark grey jeans, naturally. Solona doubted the man had ever owned a nice pair of slacks in his life. She'd seen his wardrobe. It was one set of dress blues, two officer uniforms, a single, raggedy set of khakis, and fifteen identical black shirts next to exactly three pairs of jeans: blue, grey, and black, all cut the exact same way.

Maybe she'd get him a suit tailored for his birthday next year.

His boot knocked softly into hers, and when she looked up he was smiling softly at her with something strangely close to adoration, and now it was her turn to shift uncomfortably in her seat.

“Everything alright?” Jowan murmured.

There was an odd sort of energy in the cab between the three of them. It was as though no one wanted to be the first to speak above a whisper, like the slightest increase in volume would shatter these small and tentative beginnings slowly unfolding across their laps. There would be no first kiss tonight; no, it was far too late for that. There had been a myriad of kisses over the years, a plethora of just plain fucking with the occasional lovemaking sprinkled in, all punctuated by explosive fights and violent nights alone. She had words for all of those things, but this? She didn’t know what to call this. There was nothing in her vocabulary that described the kind of energy that surrounded them.

“I think so,” she said, the words barely a whisper by the time they made it to her lips.

“Alors...” the cab driver began tentatively. “Lequel de vous est l’amant?”

Solona’s head shot up, the suspended stillness shattered by his gravelly voice as the words sank in. “Um,” she began. “I don’t...what...” She felt her cheeks turn pink and she elbowed Jowan in the ribs for confirmation. “Hey, did that mean what I think it did?” she whispered.

Jowan’s face was beet red. “He...ah...yes, probably,” he stammered. “He wants to know which of us is...you know. The um.” He lowered his voice to an even quieter whisper. “The lover.”

A nervous giggle shot out from her lips. “Oh. Oh! Right. Yep. Hah, I um.” She scrambled for both of their hands. She didn’t even have to look at Cullen to see the flush of crimson on his cheeks.

Maker’s balls, how old was she, twelve?

The driver, to his credit, seemed to pick up the implication. “Ahh,” he said, eyebrows waggling. “Ménage à trois, eh?“

Jowan sank further into his seat. “Maker,” he muttered.

“Yes?” she squeaked.

“Ah, très bien,” he nodded sagely as he pulled the cab into a cramped parking space. “Bonne chance!”

“Maker’s breath,” she heard Cullen mutter. He clambered out of the cab the second the driver parked it. Jowan quickly followed suit, offering her a hand to help her out. He refused to meet her eyes.

“So...” she began, fighting the laugh toying at the edge of her breath. “Who’s supposed to be paying him?”

“Oh!” Cullen dug through his coat pocket and pulled out a crumpled wad of bills he then promptly thrust in through the open window. “Um. Yes. Right. Thank you.”

The cab driver laughed. “Merci!” he said. He winked, rolled the window up, and drove off, leaving the three of them standing, rather flustered, at the curb.

“Well,” Solona said finally. “Alright then, where the fuck are we--”

She trailed off as she looked around. In front of her stood the spiraling marble columns of the Musée de Montsimmard, carefully chiseled marble steps rising elegantly to a massive glass entryway where crowds of well dressed people milled about. A smile broke out on Jowan’s face. “Well,” he said finally. “We’re here.”

She’d been to the museum plenty of times already, of course. Between research for her coursework and the occasional casual tour, she was intimately familiar with its layout. Lately, however, embroiled as she was in her writing, she hadn’t been in quite some time, and the familiar delicate wire structures gracing the front pavilion felt like a warm welcome home.

“I hope you like the exhibit we’ve come to see,” Cullen said. She was suddenly aware of him standing behind her, warmth radiating across her back as he gently rested his chin on her shoulder. She glanced tentatively at Jowan, bracing herself for his reaction, but for once, he seemed oddly content, not even a whisper of a grimace on his features. He simply extended his hand again, smile never leaving his face.

“It is quite striking,” he said, eyes crinkling with mischief as he laced his fingers with hers.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What the fuck have you two been up to?”

“Patience, my dear,” Cullen whispered into her ear, sending a warm prickle straight down her spine. He enveloped her other hand with his, a much rougher grip than Jowan’s but no less gentle, and the two of them tugged her forward.

The foyer awaited her, the familiar cream colored walls, plaques, paintings, and sculptures welcoming her in with soft familiarity. She paused for a moment to take it all in, drinking in the comfortable, muted stillness with an almost desperate sort of need. She could come here every day and never tire of it.

Cullen and Jowan, however, had other ideas. “Come on, this isn’t what we came here for,” Jowan said with a grin.

Solona pouted but relented as they tugged her toward the reception counter. Jowan strode forward, and Solona took a moment to appreciate the uncharacteristic amount of confidence he had gained since they’d moved to Orlais. She spoke the language, yes; she had to, for her degree, obviously, but Jowan was the only one of the three of them who was comfortably, conversationally fluent so far.

It was nice, seeing him like this. He’d never been particularly confident in social situations back in Kirkwall. Neither of them had been, really; she was always just better at hiding it behind humor and dismissive indifference, but it was hard to relax in a city filled with the ghosts of so many of her worst memories. Montsimmard was a fresh start for them all, and Jowan was beginning to thrive in the freedom of it.

She and Cullen approached the counter after him. The woman behind the desk, a willowy, freckled, mousey-haired woman with soft brown eyes and an even softer voice stared at her for a moment, wide eyed. “Madam Amell!” she exclaimed, jumping to her feet. “We are so excited to have you here with us today! Please, follow me!”

Solona felt her eyebrows climb her forehead. “Okay, seriously you two, what the fuck is going on?” she said finally.

Cullen said nothing, simply nodding his head after the woman with a faint smile playing on his lips. Solona pouted but relented.

The main exhibition hall branched off to several smaller rooms. They followed the receptionist into one of them, and what Solona saw knocked the air straight from her lungs.

“Thank you all for joining us today!” a guide announced from the podium. “As many of you know, the Musée de Montsimmard rose from the ashes of what was once, for centuries, the largest Circle of Magi in Orlais.We are forever grateful for the patronages that have allowed this incredible undertaking, and continue to allow it to this day.

“For centuries, our city has shined a beacon for anyone with magic shimmering in their veins. In recent decades we have stood firm against countless onslaughts against the personal freedoms of those once caged within these walls. Today, we are showcasing works by a remarkable woman, an artist of incredible talent who has overcome so many of the very challenges this city has striven to eliminate since the Circles were first dissolved. This exhibition is a tribute to mages everywhere: the celebrated, the hated, the many survivors of untold tragedy, and the memories of those who never saw the sun rise on their liberation.”

“Jowan?” Solona felt tears in the corners of her eyes. “Cullen? What is this?”

Cullen said nothing and simply wrapped an arm tightly around her shoulder. Jowan stood at her other side and slipped an arm snugly around her waist.

“Everyone, in honor of the survivors of the horrific Tranquil Solution, in honor of mages everywhere, we present: Liberté!”

“That’s...I...”

In the center of the exhibit was a painting, her painting. A crumbling tower rose in the background. A girl in the foreground stood in rags, a girl with dark curly hair, a girl that represented everything she wished she could have had in her childhood, stood in the forefront, one arm outstretched overhead, triumphantly shooting a beam of light to the heavens as the sun peeked over a horizon of brilliant blues and purples and twinkling stars.

The guide was now reading a brief biography of the artist, of her, but his voice faded into static as she stood in shocked silence. She could recall every moment of painting that image with sparkling clarity, every sleepless night and lyrium binge and emptied bottle of liquor swept to the wayside in manic obsession.

The finishing touches had been done without electricity, by candlelight and mage light, in despairing silence while the streets of Kirkwall burned.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand, we left all of that behind, I thought it was lost forever, how did you--how did either of you--”

“The rest of the precinct helped,” Cullen said wryly. “We went and salvaged it all from your old apartment after the dust settled. It came over with me when I finally packed up and met the two of you for good, and the rest of it was all him.” He gestured at Jowan, who was beaming.

“I may have pulled some strings with some colleagues here,” he admitted. “I was hesitant at first, and certainly not very hopeful, but the director here was, ah, quite enthusiastic about the collection once she saw it and heard your story.”

Solona sniffled and leaned her weight into their arms. “I don’t know what to say,” she whispered.

“Would you like us to give you some space?” Jowan asked softly.

She shook her head. “No,” she sniffed. “No. Don’t go.”

The rest of the evening passed in a daze. At some point, the curator approached her and had a conversation that must have been coherent, given the business card that went home with her after the fact, but she would have been lying if she said she remembered what sorts of words were exchanged.

The cab ride home was an equally hazy affair, one with much less decorum than the trip there. She watched the street lights tick by as she lay in Jowan’s arms, feet propped up in Cullen’s lap, taking solace in the weighty feeling of his hands on her calves. It was strange, this feeling settling into her limbs. It was intoxicatingly euphoric, whatever this was. It felt like sinking into a warm bath at the end of a long day, like putting on a familiar, well-worn sweater that smells faintly of someone you love--

The soft edges slammed into focus.

She sat up immediately. “Stop the cab,” she said abruptly. “Stop the cab, I have to get out, I have to--”

The cab driver shrugged and pulled over, and she scrambled out over Jowan’s lap, almost tripping directly into the pavement. The world suddenly felt too small, the walls were closing in and her chest was gripped by an alarmingly familiar ache and an equally intense, crippling fear.

This was wrong. This was wrong, because there was no way, no way on this earth this was the correct version of her life.

She felt her knees hit the sidewalk and squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t open them. If she did, she would be standing in Kirkwall again, and she wasn’t sure if that was something she could bear the weight of right now.

“Solona.”

Jowan’s voice tugged at the edges of her consciousness. She shook her head. She felt her chest heaving with sobs. Distantly, in the back of her mind, she was aware she was making a scene, but she didn’t know how to hold any of it in. She never had.

“Solona, what’s wrong?” Cullen’s voice this time, floating over her, filled with a familiar confusion.

“I don’t want to wake up,” she gasped through the splitting ache in her chest. “I don’t want to go back. I can’t.”

“We don’t have to, love.” Jowan wrapped her hands in his and helped her stand as Cullen supported her from behind. “This is home now.”

Solona opened her eyes. She could see the street lamps reflecting on Jowan’s cheeks, also wet with tears as he brushed her cheek with his fingers. “This is home,” he repeated, more firmly this time.

“He’s right,” Cullen murmured behind her. She turned and met his gaze, the air slowly returning to her lungs in tiny increments. “Last I checked, we’re all here to stay.”

She nodded slowly, incredulously, looking around at the shops and traffic lights, and at the handful of onlookers glancing over in apparent concern. The air smelled like lavender and magnolia and nothing at all like Kirkwall’s murky blend of industrial smoke and stale saltwater. The signs were all in delicate Orlesian script with the occasional translation beneath here and there. Somewhere to her right, a woman unlocked her car with a dismissive wave of her hand and not a single other person seemed to take notice.

“This is home,” she murmured.

Jowan wiped the tears from her face as Cullen planted a kiss on her forehead. “Home,” Jowan repeated.

“Which, incidentally, is only three blocks away, if you both fancy some fresh air,” Cullen pointed out. “At least, I hope I’m reading that sign correctly.”

The laugh exploded from Solona’s chest, so suddenly she almost didn’t recognize the sound. She turned and planted a kiss square on his lips, then whirled around and kissed Jowan in turn. Reality was shifting again, as it so often did for her, but for the first time in her life, it didn’t feel so bad.

Her shoes were off before she even made it to the front door. Cullen helped her out of her jacket as her fingers made hasty work of the buttons on Jowan’s shirt. Jowan’s lips met hers, softly at first, with only the slightest hesitation, as Cullen slipped her blouse off of her shoulders. The sounds of two more pairs of shoes hitting the floor rang behind her as she leaned into the kiss. She scraped her teeth across Jowan’s lip and drew a weak moan from his throat that sent shivers of anticipation shooting through her core.

She felt Cullen’s stubble graze her shoulder as he planted a string of hot kisses down her shoulder. Her bra came undone, and she flung it clumsily away from her without a single care for where it landed. She almost tripped over her pants as the three of them stumbled to the bedroom, and she cursed quietly as she kicked them away.

Cullen’s hands trailed down to her hips, then back up to her chest, his touch rough and warm as Jowan buried his fingers in her hair. Cullen rolled a nipple between his fingers and she gasped into Jowan’s mouth, every nerve on overdrive as her body craved more.

Her body crashed onto the mattress. Cullen clambered on the bed with her, cradling her head in his lap as Jowan pulled away and positioned himself between her legs. It was Cullen’s turn to kiss her now, fervent and passionate. He smelled like mint and aftershave and for a moment all she could focus on was the way his tongue felt against hers.

Jowan parted her gently with his fingertips. Solona shuddered and gasped when he closed his lips around her clit, warmth blooming between her thighs with the sweet ache of arousal.

Cullen swirled his fingers around her nipples as he cupped her breasts with both hands, pinching with just enough pressure to send lightning through her spine. She reached up, blindly, to touch him, any part of him, but he pulled his hands away and closed them over hers. “Not yet,” he whispered into her mouth. “This is for you right now.”

She could only moan in assent, eyes squeezed shut as Jowan’s tongue between her legs sent her spiraling higher and higher.

“There we go,” Cullen murmured, gently stroking her hair. He shifted his legs slightly as he leaned in to kiss her again.

“Fuck,” she whimpered. The static began to build. “Please.”

“Let go,” Cullen whispered.

And she did. She hit her peak and cried out, body trembling under wave after wave of euphoric bliss as Jowan gently brought her back to earth. She slumped back in Cullen’s lap, letting her fingers trail up his torso as he ran his fingers through her curls.

Jowan kissed his way up to her navel, cradling her trembling body with his arms as he planted delicate kisses along her stomach, trailing upward until he gently captured one of her nipples between his teeth.

Cullen slipped out from his position beneath her head and took Jowan’s place at the foot of the bed as she writhed under Jowan’s touch. “Kiss me, please,” she whispered. She could taste herself on Jowan’s lips, was drowning under his touch, losing herself in the sensations of hands and fingers and lips.

She gasped when Cullen entered her, agonizingly slowly, both hands gently grasping her by the hips as he sank into her with deliberate, measured intensity. The friction made her body sing, and she felt her hips moving almost of their own accord, begging him to move faster.

She would have asked out loud, but Jowan’s fingers trailing down her collarbone, his lips ghosting hot kisses down her ear and across her neck, had left her incapable of finding words for much of anything.

“In my mouth,” she finally managed to gasp, fingers closing around Jowan’s wrist. “I want you in my mouth.”

“Anything for you,” he whispered.

She tipped her head back and let her lips close around the tip of his length. It was his turn to shudder as she swirled her tongue around the head. She reached up and wrapped her fingers around his shaft, closing them just tight enough to slowly pump him as Cullen drove into her, each stroke intentional and methodical and filling her with a need so intense it was almost painful.

Where her end was vocal and filled with explosive fireworks, Jowan’s was gentle and quiet. He instinctively moved to withdraw, but she tapped him on the thigh and shook her head ever so slightly, mentally pleading for him not to move. She needed to taste him, needed it so badly it was driving her frantic with desire. She caught his hand in hers and squeezed it, gentle and reassuring as she met his eyes a split second before he gripped back tightly, eyes closing, hips bucking into her mouth as he came.

And Maker, was he a beautiful sight when he did, the way his tousled brown hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, his freckled chest heaving as he caught his breath. The way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he squeezed them shut, the faintest shy smile blooming across his face.

He was breathtaking, and in this moment she wondered how she had ever pushed him away. She prayed she never would again.

Cullen paused then, withdrawing from her and drawing a whine of protest from her lips. He held out a hand and pulled her gently upright into a deep kiss. “Sit on my face,” he murmured teasingly against her lips. “I want to taste you too.”

She wasn’t sure what possessed her to ask it. She’d never really speculated overmuch on the nature of their relationship with each other at this point; she’d never seen them be particularly affectionate with each other without her involved. Part of her, truthfully, feared the answer, feared what it would do to this fragile sense of tranquility she’d finally managed to grasp, but the question slipped from her love-drunk lips before she could hold it in:

“Can you kiss each other?”

Cullen’s eyebrows raised, and she heard Jowan shift on the bed behind her. Anxiety gripped her suddenly, and she nervously began to shrink into herself. “You don’t...you don’t have to,” she stammered. “It would...I think it would...”

“I think it would be nice,” Jowan finished. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

“As do I,” Cullen murmured reassuringly. He took her hands in his and squeezed them, and when she looked closer, a shy flush had crept into his cheeks.

She scooted back on the bed then, equal parts reassured and transfixed as their lips met. Jowan’s kisses were always tentative at first, each brush of his lips a question softly begging for an answer. Cullen kissed back firmly, decisive and precise, one hand nestling gently along Jowan’s jawline, the other winding into Jowan’s hair.

It was one thing to kiss Jowan. It was another thing entirely to watch Jowan be kissed. Jowan melted into Cullen’s arms, gripping tightly to his back as Cullen claimed his lips, then pulled away and nipped gently at his jaw, trailing kisses down his neck. The way they moved together, hands seeking purchase, bodies aligned, filled her with a need she didn’t even know she had, and she reached between her legs and slipped two fingers into herself with a breathless moan.

She pumped in and out of herself, rubbing furiously at her clit with her thumb, letting out an audible gasp when Jowan disengaged and slowly sank to his knees, hands gripping Cullen’s hips and thighs as he slowly took Cullen’s cock in his mouth. “Oh, fuck,” she whispered. “Fuck, that is. Maker. You’re both so beautiful.”

“Wait,” Cullen murmured. He ran his fingers through Jowan’s hair before reaching down and gently tugging him to his feet. “I want both of you.”

Solona couldn’t keep her hands off of him as he positioned himself on the bed beneath her. Jowan knelt between Cullen’s legs, and when he looked up at her through sweat soaked hair she almost came right then.

How was he so beautiful? How were they both so beautiful?

How close had she come to losing them both?

And then Cullen’s tongue swiped her clit and her thoughts sank into blissful surrender. She fought to keep her eyes open as she rode him, shuddering when he moaned into her. Jowan’s head bobbed up and down on Cullen’s cock, one hand wrapped around the base of it, the other pressed into the mattress. Her breathing quickened as Cullen traced shapes into her slit, teasing at the tip of her clit until she felt her limbs would catch on fire.

She couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. It was too much, everything was too much, and she was lost without an anchor in a wash of sensation and emotion. She searched for Jowan’s hand on the mattress. Jowan laced his fingers into hers and squeezed, and she wondered if it were possible for her heart to explode with the intensity of it all.

“Please,” she murmured again. She clung to them both, Jowan’s hand in her right, Cullen’s gripped tightly to her left, thighs aching as she climbed into the stratosphere. “Please, please, please.”

She felt Cullen shudder and jerk beneath her, moaning into her as he came, and the vibrations sent her teetering over her peak, plunging into a wave of color and sound and oh, Maker, oh fuck--

When she opened her eyes again, she was cradled between them both. She lay there for a moment in disbelieving silence, listening to them breathe on either side of her, drinking in the warmth of their chests as Cullen nuzzled her forehead with his lips and Jowan whispered soft “I love you”s into the nape of her neck. Twinkling orbs of mage light danced lazily on the ceiling.

This was home, she realized. It was home on a level that shook her to her core, in a way she’d never, ever experienced, because this was a home that would be here when the dust settled. This was a home that could exist for good, a home that came with so much more than the desperate but empty promises of a morning that had never before been guaranteed.

But morning would come.

Morning would come, and she would still be home.

Fin.

Thanks to my partner in crime @laraslandlockedblues for creating this particular AU with me, and an extra big thank you to all of my new fandom friends who gave me the space to let this muse out. I love and appreciate every single one of you.

#dapolyshippingday #lemon #so much lemon #probably a little over a third lemon #solona amell #cullen/amell/jowan #cullen/amell #jowan/amell #cullen/jowan #equal opportunity banging #ot3 #poly triad #amell sandwich #modern au #this was honestly supposed to just be three paragraphs of fluff #idk what happened there #solona's just got big feels all the time ok

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tbhwhocaresanymore · 4 years

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Nancy Drew 1x16

Oh my God you guys it has been so long since I have been able to watch a show that is so well written that has clearly been planned out from the beginning where the viewers have been able to theorize and have it pay off and Jesus Christ it is GLORIOUS. If I ever write for a show I would want to work with these writers on a show like this.

Before anything else let me start off gloating that I started calling Nancy as Lucy and Ryan’s daughter back around episode 9 or 10 and I am so fucking vindicated right now, I have been riding an otherwise unattainable high nonstop for the past three days. @kat--writes is this how you feel when you accurately predict things??? Because it feels AMAZING.

For the rest of the episode first can I just say how horribly tragic Lucy Sable is? Kudos to the writers because it was a stunning plot twist that I never saw coming but for some reason it’s almost worse than a murder to me? If for no other reason than how it has affected and will continue to affect everyone around her. Ryan who is now going to be even more guilt ridden about not getting to the ice cream parlor on time, Karen and Josh trying to avenge a murder that never even happened, Tiffany Hudson who died for nothing, Nancy who will be forever wondering if her mother slipped and fell or if she really did kill herself right after Nancy was born because if anything will give you an abandonment complex it’s that.

And hearing Carson say what happened that night with Lucy (PHENOMENAL acting by the way, maybe best scene of the season so far) makes rewatching the earlier episodes, especially 7/8 where Nancy was accusing Carson of murdering Lucy so much more tragic. This girl who he and his wife clearly cared for and felt sympathy for, begging him with her last words to take care of her daughter, knowing he looked away for less than two seconds and probably spending weeks if not months if not years questioning if he’d just looked up a half a second sooner if maybe Lucy would still be alive. Seeing Lucy’s daughter, his daughter, accuse him of murdering Lucy had to be a gut punch and it gives his character so much more depth. I just hope this doesn't put too much of a strain on his relationship with Nancy because they have finally gotten to such a good place and as far as Carson is concerned Nancy is his daughter, and he wasn’t trying to lie to her about Lucy. All he was trying to do was respect Lucy’s dying wish and protect her from the Hudsons. I mean he was willing to go to prison for murder before admitting what happened on the bluffs that night, that should count for something.

Moving away from the Shakespearean levels of tragedy for a moment.

God I fucking KNEW Owen was shady I have known it since the beginning. Granted I do not have absolute confirmation yet BUT: him being in his car outside the Claw when he said he would be out of town, holding a piece of Lucy Sable’s skull? (As far as the skull goes though, loved that bit of Bess/George/Nick teamwork to casually hide it from the cops.) Creepy bastard, thy name is Owen. I have no idea how it will play out yet but I hope to God that it will. But also that is going to be a bit of a blow to Bess, finding out her cousin is whatever he is, and also Nancy who literally just had sex with him.

Speaking of.

Much as it pains me to admit, the writers are clearly taking several steps away from Nancy x Nick for the moment, probably to give Nick x George a fighting chance. Side question. Why is Nick sleeping on a couch when he has over four and a half million dollars? Like he could afford to build a house with that much money. But I digress. I think it will be good for George to have a love interest who is A her own age and B not married, especially someone who she already had a good friendship with. Maybe since Owen is a Confirmed Shady Motherfucker the writers will either keep Nancy single for awhile or pair her up with Ace because their chemistry is off the charts. And as long as we’re on the romance topic, Bess. BESS. My sweet queer daughter. Where are Lisbeth and Amaya? Last time we saw Lisbeth they admitted they were kind of falling in love and slept with each other, last (and first) time we saw Amaya I fell in love and she and Bess had more chemistry than a high school sophomore. GIVE ME MY ON SCREEN BESS ROMANCE DRAMA WRITERS. And am I the only one who finds it a little bit weird that Bess is apparently so good at other people’s relationships when she has never really had one before?

I’m going to take a quick minute to be sad about Nancy x Nick so if you don’t like that you can skip this paragraph. NED NICKERSON. How the FUCK can you be so totally fine with Nancy sleeping with Owen when you two are clearly soulmates and you never liked him anyway? After the inevitable Owen betrayal possibly one of two things will happen with Nancy. She will regress and start to push people (read: love interests) even further away than before, OR she will finally really start to open up to Nick and they will find their way back to each other. Admittedly the second one is unlikely since Nick and George literally just got together but you never know. Just as long as Nick doesn’t cheat on George with Nancy because those two are finally friends and are really good friends to boot, and also George deserves way better especially post Ryan Hudson affair debacle. Maybe she and Nancy can bond over having shady not good for them older boyfriends.

On the topic of Ryan being Nancy’s biological dad every time George complains about Nancy asking favors I want her response to be “you had sex with my dad” every time.

Now we will talk about the promo for the as of now untitled next episode and also what the rest of the season and possibly season 2 have planned.

In episode 17 Ryan will clearly be Going Through Some Stuff, and will also find out that Lucy was pregnant. Whether he realizes she had the baby or thinks it died with her remains to be determined, but that shot of Nancy with a busted lip and her hair cut off in a car being driven by Ryan makes me think maybe he snaps and kidnaps her? It’s a bit of a stretch but it would certainly be interesting. I think we’re also going to see more of the Aglaeca coming after Nancy for not paying the toll, because for a minute we can see Nancy sort of choking and putting her hand to her throat like she’s about to throw up again. Maybe it’s going to keep coming after Nancy until they finally let the Aglaeca have Owen, or maybe its going to try to kill Nancy as punishment for saving Owen. I don’t know but I can’t wait to find out.

For the rest of the season/next season there are a couple threads not related to Ryan finding out Nancy is his daughter. There’s the new detective but I’m not talking about him. Joshua Dude, Lucy’s brother. He is still out and about wherever he is, and does not know his sister killed herself. This will probably not exonerate Ryan in his mind as Ryan’s family is part of what drove Lucy to suicide. Maybe he will come back and decide to sort of take revenge on A the Hudsons or B the town of Horseshoe Bay as revenge for what they did to Lucy. (Sort of like the Black Hood from Riverdale but you know, well done.) There is also Everett Hudson. Last time I checked he had just been arrested for sinking the Bonny Scot and racketeering and insurance fraud and stuff, what the hell is he doing at a yacht club? I can only assume he got out on bail so maybe we will see Nancy (possibly together with Ryan) work to put him behind bars for good. Maybe Carson Drew will finally leverage some of that dirty laundry he has on the Hudsons, or better yet that Grecian urn thing Ryan has will finally be put to good use. And then in the future although there is zero proof of this I still want A for George to become clairvoyant/psychic like her mother and B for George and Bess to be cousins. I don’t think I’m asking for too much here.

Finally, because of how much of a staple character he is in the books I refuse to accept that Chief McGinnis is gone for good. My very being rebels against it. But before you scream at me about how different the show is from the books (those two or three of you who have read the books anyway) even if he were an original character I would want him to stay. He is a fantastic character, he was just starting to get depth, I adore his relationship with Ace and on top of everything else he’s good Native American representation.

I ALSO WANT VICTORIA TO COME BACK. I HAVE NOT SEEN HER SINCE 2019. WTF WRITERS. YOU CAN’T JUST MAKE ME FALL IN LOVE WITH A DYSFUNCTIONAL PSYCHIC ALCOHOLIC MOTHER LIKE THAT AND THEN ONLY PUT HER IN TWO EPISODES.

Dead Lucy should also continue to stick around, maybe she can teach Nancy how to hang from ceilings or they can bond over how much Everett Hudson Sucks. It’s just that Lucy spent all this time trying to show Nancy that she is her biological mother, and for her to move on after sticking around for 20 years right after Nancy learns the truth? It would be too - and I fully recognize I have used this word too many times but I am going to use it again - tragic.

The wait for April 8 is going to be an agony unlike any other but at least after it comes back there will only be six episodes left, and so it is very unlikely the show will go on another hiatus before the season is up. Let me know what you guys think will happen in season 2/the rest of season 1.

#Nancy Drew #Nancy Drew cw #George Fan #Bess Marvin #Lucy Sable #Dead Lucy #Ned Nickerson #the haunting of Nancy Drew #Ryan Hudson #Carson Drew #Nick x Nancy #Nick x George #Nancy x Owen #sorta Nancy x Ace #if you squint

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emeraldbabygirl · 5 years

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My Favorite Concepts

I decided I wanted to make a list of my favorite concept idols and groups have done:

Safety shorts: very important

Oversized sweaters: sweater paws are too die for

Chokers: everyone looks amazing in them

Idols and cute outfits in general like overalls uwu

Retro concepts: I’m an absolute hoe for retro concepts, Spica’s I’ll Be There, April’s Oh My Mistake, Ladies’ Code’s Feedback

Idols wearing flowers crowns

Idols wearing specks

Idols with beautiful tan skin: Hakyeon, Jessi, Hyorin, Seungyeon

Idols in pastel colors: they look so cute and soft uwu

Idols eating delicious food

Foot stomping and shoe squeaking dance practices

Idols having fun outside or at amusement parks as well as filming cute videos in different countries

Tattoos: tbh it’s my kink but damn some idols just pull it off so well

Sometimes idols have really cute piercings, like different places on their ears or belly button piercings like LE and Mint

Specific sections of their hair dyed: Lisa, Dahyun, Jinjin and that member of Itzy (forgive me I don’t know her name)

Idols and karaoke rooms: always iconic

Idols with braces: there’s nothing cuter than when Vernon, I.N, Sanha and Donghyun had braces uwu

Idols being thicc or muscular and not twigs: Hwasa, Wonho, Kyla, Eunha, Luna, St.Van

The girl crush/tomboy concept: Amber, Jeongyeon, Miya

Idols with stuffed animals: San & Shiber, Bobby & Pooh, Youngguk and Tigger

Low rapping voices or voices that you wouldn’t expect them to have: Youngguk, Wooseok, Wyatt, Zuho, Hwiyoung & Song Mingi uwu etc.

Tbh I love the rappers that sounds like Hyuna, Yeeun and Miso. At first I thought it was annoying but I really like it now

That one year that like every idol dressed as Harley Quinn from Suicide Squad

Idols “getting thicc on us” Hongki, K.Will, Kyla, half the members of Boyfriend, CNU etc.

Female idols not caring when female fans pull the mirror trick

Idols sticking up for themselves and each other

Female idols really doing the best despite how difficult it is being a female in the music industry: this is mostly because I honestly have so much respect for female idols, they have to deal with periods and creepy perverts, dancing and running in heels, they’re just really amazing

Male idols not being afraid to show their soft sides

Male idols showing love to male fans

Idols being adorable with fans

Idols of mixed races and/or other races, Hanbyul, Felix, Samuel, Somi, Monika, Wendy, Mark, Sorn, Nickhun, Momo, etc.

Really tall and really short idols: Rowon, Zelo, Soobin, the whole of Tiny-G, Jinhwan, Woozi etc.

Idols and onesies and idols with onesie dance practices

Idols genuinely having fun on stage

Idols in suits and really gorgeous dresses that are classy and elegant

Groups with unique introductions: D-Crunch, Alphabat, 24K

Groups celebrating 7th, 8th and further on anniversaries, like Apink: because seeing a group together after so long is really cool and I love that

Groups leaving a company together and resigning with another one or filing lawsuits and winning: B2ST/Highlight and B.A.P

Younger idols being children for as long as they can :(

Idols being safe and happy

The “every member is a visual” group: Imfact, VAV, Bigstar, N.Tic

Big groups, 9+ members: WJSN, Seventeen, UP10TION (Super Junior, Exo, and Alphabat used to be big)

Idols being bf/gf material af

Idols getting married to their gf/bf of 8 mothafuckin years: shoutout to U-Kwon and his beautiful relationship with his gf

Idols getting married before having children

Idols being cute with kids

Idols being cute with their parents and siblings

Idols and beach fun time episodes; everyone is so cute and they are having fun

Unique concepts that lots of underrated groups are amazing at like horror concepts: stan Dreamcatcher

Unique and fun choreos like Speed’s Don’t Tease Me, NCT Dream’s Chewing Gum, fromis_9’s Fun

Tiny female rappers spittin fire: Dasom from 2EYES, Seoyeon from fromis_9

Idols wearing comfortable clothes for dance practices

Idols that are actually bands: Royal Pirates, LedApple, Say Yes, OneWe, Tweety, Barbie D (Kiwi Band)

Older idol groups that are either still around making music or came back after a long hiatus to continue making music: Shinhwa, Sechkies, S.E.S

Newer idols covering older idols songs like H.O.T, BoA, DBSK etc.

Collab stages between groups, Fx and Shinee, Boys Generation, WJSN, Red Velvet, Twice, Gfriend. BUT NOT THAT COLLAB STAGE WITH GOT7, SEVENTEEN, GFRIEND AND TWICE, THAT WAS CRINGEY AS HELL AND I HAVE NIGHTMARES OF IT AT LEAST ONCE A MONTH

Idols in haunted houses, unless they cry like Tao :(

Performing on stage with hand mics and being able to do the choreo one-handed: I think the newer mics are cool but there’s something about the hand helds that I’m in love with especially when the rappers get the mics, it’s really hot tbh

Idols under JYP in hoodies: tbh all idols under JYP look so smol and cute in hoodies I uwu

I love aesthetically pleasing mvs that a lot of newer groups are doing but I absolutely love the dark, boxy, old 2008/2009/2010 aesthetic tbh; anything by MBLAQ especially Cry and Oh Yeah, Girls Generation’s Run Devil Run, Shinee’s Ring Ding Dong, NU’EST’s Face, B.E.G’s Abracadabra, that dark stuff. And it’s not even for a specific reason really, it just reminds me of the golden days of kpop and tbh I miss that. I love all these new groups but there’s something almost nostalgic to me about those older mvs and every kpop fan should watch those older mvs definitely. The older groups are really legends. I miss them, like Infinite and KARA uwu

Groups covering and/or dancing to literally any Sistar song, but ‘Touch My Body’ will forever remain THE iconic Sistar song: NewKidd, Boyfriend, fromis_9

Idols wearing suit jackets and slacks with just plain t-shirts. They look so nice but also casual and comfortable and I like that. EXID’s Night Rather than Day outfits I really like and then recently OneUs’s dance practice for Twilight, Keonhee wore it really well

Idols wearing suit jackets and a nice button up on top and just jeans and plain sneakers on the bottom: again it’s a casual look but also nice and comfy

Idols with bright hair colors; Yugyeom and GD with yellow hair, Miso and hot pink hair, Yeonkuk with a pretty neon and cyan color

I’m gonna brag rn; literally N.Tic’s Fiction mv is a whole concept within itself. Yeah it’s retro but it’s also the way it was filmed, the lights & effects, the choreo, their outfits and just the way the song flows is absolutely fantastic. It’s like, my favorite song of 2019. Facts sis. Tbh N.Tic themselves are a concept. I’ve made so many posts about them but they deserve it, they are improving with each comeback and all their songs are bops and I am so fucking glad I decided to check them out. I’m glad that, despite how I felt about Jion’s appearance at first, I saw past that, realized how amazing his voice is and decided to stan the group. They’ve done so much for me already and I’m so grateful to them and hope they continue to improve and gain more fans.

Idols and dogs

Idols and plushies uwu

Honestly idols at fansigns are so precious

Hyuna killin it on her way out of Cube we stan

Idol Radio: BLESS YOU ILLHOON

Male idols with long hair; rip Ren, Jungshin, CNU, Kangnam, Jeonghan and Hwiyoung’s long hair :(

Idols stepping on me

Relay dances; Saturday, Weki Meki, 9Muses and A.C.E take it to a whole new level

Reblog with some of your favorite concepts. It can be actual concepts like cute or vampire or something. I just did non music concepts

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literaryjerseygirl · 4 years

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Second Chances 5/17/2020

I’m a lucky girl. I know, I know...I’m a grown woman and should refer to myself as such. But fuck it. Today I’m a girl, and a lucky one.

You may ask how. Or why. Why do I think I’m so damn lucky?

It’s spring 2020, and most of NJ is under a stay-at-home order. And for a semi-social person like me (who happens to live alone), it’s difficult at times. I’ve been working from home. My gym and the yoga studio are closed. I miss my friends. Loved ones and I have been hit by losses, and we cannot comfort each other. And if you’ve followed me for any length of time, you know my struggles. There’s no need to reiterate them here.

Yet I’m smiling as I write this. The sun is out. The ocean is a block away. Summer is imminent. I have a job, decent health, food, a roof...yadda yadda yadda. And I have friends who are my family and who love me. And who I love right back.

You know what else makes me lucky?

Second chances.

I’ve gotten several. A big one in 1994. Others through various times in my life. And that’s what this is about.

I have to get real, and to do that I need to be honest about myself. I was not always a great friend. I probably still am not a great friend at times; the difference now is I’m more aware and I try harder. If the connection has value to me, I’m going to do the work to keep the friendship. I’m going to talk about the difficult things, and be there when it isn’t easy. But I wasn’t always this way. I found it almost impossible to connect to others. I felt like I had things to hide. I also felt I didn’t have much to offer anyone as a friend. Sure I can laugh at your jokes, let a double entendre fly, inject some witty observation into almost any situation...but when shit got real? When disagreements happened? When life got in the way? Or, when I needed to face some part of myself I couldn't or wouldn’t face in order to maintain the friendship? Nope. I was out. Usually without a word. These days, it’s called ghosting.

People don’t always give you a second chance when you behave this way.

When I returned to New Jersey in the summer of 1998, I was likely suffering from PTSD or C-PTSD. The stigma surrounding mental health (or lack thereof) coupled with my own pride/shame/fear kept me from seeking the help I needed. I came home thinking I’d slip right back into my old life, and that my old friends would be overjoyed to see me. I thought I’d be “OK;” I’d somehow magically be whole again.

WRONG.

Some of my friends were glad to see me. Some weren’t sure how to take me, I think. They kind of...well, did a “me” and nope’d out when I wasn’t quite my old self. I vividly remember being asked how married life was, and when I explained I was in the midst of a divorce, the look of shock I received surprised me. The response was something like, “wow, you kinda lapped us all...divorced at 26...some of us haven’t even gotten MARRIED yet!” That stung, a lot in fact. I wondered if that’s why I had a tough time reconnecting with people-the whole “divorced at 26” thing. Logically-probably not. But I have no way of knowing. I only knew that I felt different when I came home; I knew I was not the same. I longed to be the “same” young woman I was before the abuse.

I was thankful to the small group of classmates who just about treated me the same when I returned. They didn’t remark too much on the divorce, they didn’t ask too many prying questions. They accepted me back, and I was grateful. I offered the bare minimum of details, which seemed to satisfy them. I didn’t have to delve into specifics and, even better, I didn’t have to talk about what was going on while I lived at my parents’ house those few months. This is where I circle back to “nope’ing out” on friends. As happens during the course of friendship, boundaries were crossed, things were said, promises made and broken. Shit got real, and life got in the way. And because I’d so recently chucked everything and it seemed to work (it actually didn’t, but that’s another piece of writing for another time), I did it again. I turned my back on those friends. I fulfilled the remaining social obligations I had with them, and then just dropped out. Didn’t return calls, ignored emails, and avoided places I knew they might be. And when social media showed up a few years later and they found me...well, I hid. Or I tried to.

It's only been the last few years I knew that I would never be exactly the same-and I was determined to be better. I spent many years looking in the mirror for that girl who entered college with enthusiasm and big dreams. I caught glimpses of her as I opened up and worked on healing. And when I stopped running from my demons and turned around to face them, she came roaring back. I felt her. I saw her. She was me, and I was her once again. Under the laugh lines, the crow’s feet, and beneath the gray hair-there she was. That energetic, sarcastic girl who loved her college classes, adored the TV station she helped start, and could be found laughing with her friends.

But this is about second chances, and I’m getting there. I knew that I would have to, at some point, make amends to people I hurt by ghosting. I knew I couldn’t hide forever.

Probably the greatest compliment I received was after reconnecting with an old friend I’d literally hidden from. I knew that the circumstances surrounding the hiatus in our friendship, and my ‘disappearance’ were going to come up. I let their friend request sit for quite some time as I asked myself if I was ready to talk about it. Was I ready to face it, and ready to admit that I’d been wrong? This is where the blog comes in handy. It’s already been written, it’s all laid out, and I don’t have to say a word. So when we reconnected, and the time came, I merely spoke about my blog, and warned them it was graphic. I'd had numerous classes with them in college, and as I suspected, they had no earthly idea what was going on back then.

The compliment? It was something along the lines of, “Even though we haven’t talked in 20 years, you’re still LJG....it seems like no time has passed...you’re still you.” I’m not gonna lie...I got teary over those words. Maybe I am not 100% the same, but the big things, the inside stuff...the things that make me fundamentally who I am...well it seems my core is unshaken and unsullied. And THAT is why I am a lucky girl. Lucky to have a second chance in so many things, lucky to have a good life, and lucky that I’ve found “myself” again.

https://www.theliteraryjerseygirl.com/originalwriting/second-chances-5-17-2020/

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wannawrite · 6 years

Text

honeysuckle

who?: Wanna One’s Ha Sungwoon genre: 🌺🌸 type: scenario word count: 2.5K TW: OD, vomiting, pills

blog navigator.

sungwoon adores flowers to death

isn’t love supposed to taste like honey after all?

hanahaki! AU

I miss sungwoon so much. Good news: HIATUS OVER

- admin l

disclaimer: pictures used do not belong to me and credit goes to their original owners

everything that is written here is purely fictional

DO NOT READ IF TRIGGERING

The sweetness on the very tip of his tongue poisoned like a scorpion’s sting. It lingered on his taste buds, the sense of longing, yearn.

He stuck out his tongue and gently plucked the flower off, allowing it to scatter out the window. At the same time, Sungwoon took a glance outside, witnessing a gust of wind blow the flowers in circles.

Then, a bout of sweetness crashed into his being, snaking up his throat and into his mouth. His lungs heaved, coughing out parasitic flowers.

He had always been a flowers kind of boy.

But not like this.

By now, he didn’t care to dispose of them immediately, the sheer amount was too much to keep taking out regularly. Sungwoon let the flowers float across his room.

Thankfully, the medicine was taking effect and most of the flowers had been expelled from his body. His lungs no longer felt the pain of growth. The suffocating feeling of being filled from the inside out usually threatened his ribcage to burst. It was a miracle that the physical pain was gone.

Now, all that was left to do was tackle the root of the problem - the feelings in his heart.

“Sungwoon! Hello! Wow, I feel like I haven’t heard your voice in forever! I’m finally back in Seoul!” you shrieked excitedly on the phone with your best friend. Spending nearly a week on a church retreat to some remote island was exhausting yet uplifting. Still, you couldn’t wait to return to the busyness of city life. “How about we catch up at our favourite pancake cafe? I could use a stack of great honey pancakes right now,” you suggested hopefully, planning to bribe Sungwoon with his favourite treats. At the same time, you manoeuvred your luggage into your home. Sungwoon’s cheery voice was all you needed to cure your jet lag and boredom. His voice could make the moon sparkle and serenade the sun to sleep. “Remember that cute church choir guy I was telling you about?” you chirped. “There’s so much I want to tell you!” Sungwoon coughed, quite violently. Worry began to sink into your bones. “S-“ “I’m fine!” he replied, almost in a false cheery tone. “J-just caught the flu or something. I-I’ll see a doctor soon.” “Oh,” you mumbled fretfully. “Are you well enough to meet today? Maybe I should just come over-“ “No, no!” He cut off abruptly before coughing again. “See you later, bye.” Confused, you put down the phone, mind troubled. Then, you looked at your luggage. Well, at least unpacking would serve as a good distraction. It’ll be futile to get so worked up over nothing. Sungwoon would be fine. He always would be. ~

Ignoring the prescription on the lucid orange bottle, Sungwoon flicked the cap off and downed the few remaining pills in one gulp.

Screw one pill twice a day. Unrequited love suppressants don’t have time for that.

There was no time to ponder about side effects. No room in his mind to consider the consequences. He just had to hide this...disease, that was all that mattered.

Sungwoon knew that it was you he loved and truthfully, he would confess if this issue had not popped up. It meant that your heart was already taken by someone else.

He just couldn’t bear the burden of placing you in a tough position, especially if the reason was his feelings.

Best friend - who you’ve never felt romantically attracted to - or your crush - the person of your dreams?

Yeah, there was no debate about it.

Sungwoon’s heart began to squeeze but he paid it no mind. The all-familiar discomfort of tips of petals stabbing into his sides set it. He scooped yet another bloomed cherry blossom off his tongue.

None of the pain mattered as long as no one discovered his secret.

Most importantly, you.

Sungwoon was already seated at a window booth when you arrived. The familiar and comforting face sent warmth flooding through you. You were ecstatic to see your best friend again.

He stood up and reached for a quick embrace which was happily returned.

“You look well-rested after your retreat,” Sungwoon commented, noticing the halo of a glow that surrounded you.

“It was...enlightening. I had a lot of fun and it was nice to travel with my parents again,” you filled him in. “I did miss you, the city and everything else though.”

A small smile crept onto his lips, it was sweet like honey and playful like bees. “You missed me?”

“Ugh, stop it. Of course, I missed my best friend and I missed everyone in Seoul.”

Thankfully, two plates of steaming pancake towers arrived, each boasting three fluffy hotcakes stacked on top of each other. As usual, Sungwoon’s had the classic maple syrup and a cube of butter on the top.

You ate in silence for a few minutes, savouring each dense bite of pancake, soaking up the atmosphere of being in your favourite place, eating your favourite food, with your favourite human being.

The most trustable, honest and kindest friend you had to date.

“I’ve got to tell you! Remember Issac, the...choir guy?” you spilled to Sungwoon, who offered a nod in reply.

Issac was attractive, no doubt, but you weren’t sure if you were ready for a relationship or anything. He may not even be interested. You just had to consult your best friend.

“So you’re dating him now?” Sungwoon stabbed a square of pancake a little too aggressively.

Frantically, you shook your head. “No, no! I don’t know if I’m ready to invest myself in a relationship, especially when we only met over this retreat.”

Your declaration made Sungwoon breathe a little easier but he still felt uncomfortable. Little pinpricks began to jab his torso, from the inside.

He sighed, “You’ll know when your heart’s ready. And I’ll always support you. Don’t worry so much about this, there are still opportunities...enough for you to keep your options open.” Sungwoon let out a couple of coughs before dropping the topic.

Suddenly, the air seemed heavy, questions hung over your head like a rain cloud. Something seemed off. Was it discomfort? The vibes in the area seemed thrown off course.

Then, Sungwoon smiled and asked about the details of your vacation as a whole, and you found yourself in the warmth of sunshine and security again. Relaxed and cool, at ease.

After brunch - which Sungwoon insisted on treating, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to window shop or grab a coffee from a nearby cafe.

“If you’re up for it. I don’t want to overwork you when you’re sick,” you stated with concern.

Sungwoon ran quick calculations in his head, estimating the effects of the pills and how long they would last before the next dose. He needed to pop by the pharmacy to get a new bottle.

He felt like the pills would sustain him. Gut feeling.

That is the reason Sungwoon agreed and found himself in the line for a popular pop-up coffee booth.

He did feel better. Listening to your voice, seeing your bubbly smile brighten your face, hearing giggles escape your lips...made him happy.

A sudden pang of pain hit his chest but he willfully ignored it, hands balled into fists in an attempt to control his reaction.

No one must know.

“Two iced Americanos please and one with a shot of chocolate,” Sungwoon ordered. He had all the favourites memorised.

It kind of made you swoon.

“Thank you,” you beamed, practically glowing with delight. “There’s a reason you’re my best friend.”

Sungwoon’s smile was tight-lipped and seemed forced but he was quick to diffuse it. He handed you your cup and clinked it with his.

The pain was nearly unbearable, it attacked from all sides. Nausea washed over him like a tsunami wave, shaking his tall pillars of determination.

No. Not like this.

“Excuse me for a minute,” he uttered as loudly as he could, ducking behind the shop and into a less crowded alley. Stunned, you caught his coffee before it could spill.

“O-okay.”

Cherry blossom after cherry blossom spewed out from his mouth, the flow was uncontrollable, unstoppable. Sungwoon retched out honey-sweet pink petals until he was dry-heaving, head spinning and body quaking. He brushed away mini stray petals that stuck to the sides of his lips, shaking them off in distaste.

With trembling hands, he Googled side effects of the pills. That seemed like a good idea.

Dosage: More than three pills can be taken under severe circumstances. This would purge the lungs of all flowers, new flower growth, stems and roots. Warning: should only be taken in situations when the hanahaki disease could cause fatal respiratory malfunction and under 24-hour supervision of medical professionals

Side Effects: - will cause sharp, intense and prolonged pain - will cause frequent regurgitation to expel waste matter from the body - in serious cases, patients may lose consciousness due to severe pain and discomfort

No. No. No.

“Sungwoon? Oh my god!” You rushed over to your friend who was unsteadily bent over, practically hurling his lungs out. His phone was carelessly tossed to one side.

Sucking in a deep breath to calm your nerves, you tried to assist him in sticking to rhythmic breathing.

Which was of...little use?

There was no stopping these pesky rosy flowers.

Cautiously, you picked a clean, fresh cherry blossom from the floor, from the pile of ‘barf’.

H-hanahaki?

“I-I-I was going to tell you...” Sungwoon choked out, now leaning against a wall, unable to move. “I-I r-really was...”

He heaved out another clump of flowers and watched as one got caught up in the passing winds, danced in front of his eyes before being swept to your distressed face, then the sole flower was blown away into...oblivion.

I like you.

The cold, stiff plastic chair dug into your back and thighs as you sat waiting, anxiously waiting for Sungwoon to regain consciousness.

“You idiot,” you whispered, tears threatening to slip down your face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Now, all you could do was sit and hold his hand, waiting.

The doctors had to clear the remaining chunks of flowers, stems and ‘unearthed’ roots from his lungs. They had been choking him. Sungwoon had overdosed on the pills without any professional medical attention, it could have ended fatally.

At least, all he would sustain was minor bruising and soreness around his chest.

Finally, after hours of prodding, Sungwoon finally awoke. His eyes widened when they fell on you.

And at that moment, you couldn’t stop your tears from flowing.

“Who hurt you, Sungwoon? Who?” you cried. “Tell me and I’ll go sort it out for you! You don’t have to take these pills anymore!”

His mouth was pressed into a thin line, gaze wavering, uncertain.

You exhaled shakily like all the oxygen had been knocked out of your lungs. It hurt, it genuinely did.

“W-why did you do it? W-were y-you afraid that I would find out?”

A long pause filled the space. It was longer than necessary, too hesitant for comfort, a foreign feeling since you and Sungwoon rarely withheld details.

“Yes.”

Short, one-worded, affirmative answer.

Sungwoon tried to shrug and remain nonchalant about the situation. “Yes, I was scared that you would find out that I liked you, more than just a friend.”

Confession.

He let out a short sigh of pure relief and gladness, getting those off his chest was easier said than done but so worth it. Sungwoon felt much more carefree than burdened.

Still, he hoped it had not damaged the good relations.

A billion thoughts were racing through your head, crashing into each other when your brain failed to comprehend them individually. The information was being tossed at your form, compacted into one spaceship hurtling into the planet of you. A fresh batch of tears began pouring from your eyes.

“You could’ve told me! You didn’t have to hurt yourself like this! You’re my best friend Sungwoon. I can’t bear to see you get hurt!”

I know. I never wanted to hurt you either. All these flowers would ever do is to be a burden to you.

Walking next to Sungwoon...as a date was so much different from linking arms as best friends. You were much more self-aware, self-conscious of the smallest actions.

Since that whole incident last week, both of you had gone home and immersed yourselves in deep reflection, especially of your feelings.

Sungwoon’s hanahaki did not improve or worsen.

Finally, you decided to call him and give this ‘dating’ thing a shot. Both of you were single and you found Sungwoon the most amazing person in the world.

Maybe there was more to just admiration and platonic love. It never pained to discover.

The date was wholesome though it started off rather awkward and tense. Unfamiliar.

However, after an hour, all the uneasiness fizzled away and you were reminded who you were with, your best friend - possibly more than that.

You wished the date didn’t have to end so soon as the taxi rolled closer to your home. How would it end? Did all dates end with a kiss?

Colour filled your face at the thought.

“Thanks for,,, today,” Sungwoon concluded, blushing. He cleared his throat. “It’s late, you should get some rest.”

The taxi pulled to a gentle halt.

“Uh, I’ll walk you to your apartment.”

A smile made its way to your face at his words, you ducked out of the taxi before Sungwoon could notice your glee. He talked to the driver then hopped out of the vehicle.

“Today was really fun. I enjoyed myself,” you began, a hint of playfulness in your tone. “Let’s do it again sometime!”

Sungwoon’s cheeks reddened, almost with a rosy glow. He slowly slipped his hand into yours and clutched it tight. The feeling was foreign yet welcomed.

“Sure.”

You practically skipped up the remaining flights of stairs, too impatient and excited to remain still in an elevator, much less wait for one. Sungwoon was mercilessly dragged along, he laughed.

At last, the door came into sight, causing, a tinge of disappointment in the smiles.

“I-I’ll head in first...”

You fumbled with the locks and keys, trying to delay the entirety of ‘goodbye’.

Sungwoon bit his lips and swallowed hard before asking, “Can I kiss you goodnight?”

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, rocking back and forth, shuffling in his spot anxiously.

Your hands froze in their spot, no, your whole body froze, unsure of how to respond.

Oh my god oh my god oh my god!

Sensing the sudden reaction and change of mood, he slowly backed away, embarrassed. “I-I...goodnight. I’ll see you soon.”

In a flash, you tossed your keys aside. “Hey! Sungwoon!”

He spun on his heel, looking surprised. “Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

It was his turn to freeze up. You chuckled at his expression. Then, his shock morphed into a delightful smirk. His arms didn’t hesitate to circle around you, his eyes fluttered shut and then he pressed his lips onto yours.

Closing your eyes, you gladly melted into the kiss, allowing the world around you to melt away. The kiss was passionate, soft and promising, like the perfect blend of milk and honey.

A new, fresh feeling began to bloom in Sungwoon’s chest.

#admin l #ha sungwoon #wanna one #produce 101 #wanna one scenarios #produce 101 scenarios

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originofchaos · 6 years

Text

RusEng fanfic

Well, um... I decided to try to write a fanfiction instead of drawing a fanart for a change :)

No idea if it's good or not, and this is my first work after a long hiatus... And first, it’s long af, second, there’s some mild nsfw in the end :)

Here we go...

"Hey, Ivan..."

"What?"

Arthur turned his head and smiled. He loved those moments, when he and Ivan were lying in bed, doing absolutely nothing and trying to steady their breath after a session of hot and passionate sex. He felt so calm and peaceful, and it seemed that nothing could ever bother him. There was no loud and obnoxious America, no perverted France, no loud and crowdy China; no noise and scream, no one was arguing and fighting. There was only Arthur and Ivan. Suddenly he felt overwhelmed with happiness and kissed Braginsky to relieve himself and share it with his lover. Ivan accepted the kiss, and the time finally seemed to stop completely for both of them.

"You were amazing today."

"Oh, thanks. So were you."

The air remains silent. It wasn't the awkward silence, though - it was the right kind of it. The perfect one. The one when you don't have to speak to express yourself. That was why Arthur loved having sex with Ivan. They had so much in common, even though they were so different. It was the strange mix of similarities and opposites, and that was what Kirkland adored the most.

As soon as Arthur drowned in tranquillity, he felt some movement to his left. He opened his eyes only to see Ivan getting up, and his heart sank.

"Leaving so soon?"

"I have to," Ivan sighed and put on his trousers. "I have some business back home, and your brothers are to come soon. It's better if they don't spot us naked in one bed, da?"

"True," Arthur nodded and sat. "But I'd love to have one more round before you're gone."

Ivan smiled.

"Don't tempt me. We'll do it next time when you're on top."

"Alright."

Arthur watched Ivan dressing up. He watched how his big muscular chest hides under a t-shirt and then under his big beige coat. He always looked huge in this coat. Arthur remembered the first time he saw Ivan without it and chuckled. Back then he was shocked by the difference in the appearance. Finally, the scarf was on. Kirkland sighed heavily, making Ivan turn around and look at him.

"Don't worry, I'll be back," Ivan smiled, and his scarf reached Arthur to caress his cheek, neck and chest. "Uvidimsya*."

"Yeah, see you."

The door closed. Arthur fell back on the sheets and sighed again. He didn’t even remember how and when it all started - they both were dead drunk when they had sex for the first time. It was like they were ‘friends with benefits’ forever… the term ‘fuckbuddies’ suited them most. They were never friends, nor foes; sex was passionate and frantic. At least, it used to be. Kirkland felt that something changed between them. They became closer to each other and started to spend more time together. Arthur could tell that he started to enjoy being around Ivan, but back then the only thought about it could terrify him. Braginsky held a grudge on him - he didn’t even know why - and their relationships were never warm. Let alone that time when he appeared instead of the demon he tried to summon. It seemed that it would always be like that - acquaintances acting like strangers. And yet, Arthur’s bed sheets still smelled like Ivan. He liked that smell - it was the smell of fresh pastry and something musky. It was arousing and endearing. Arthur caught himself thinking that he would love to smell it all the time. He buried his face in the pillow and inhaled deeply. The desired scent mixed with his own gently caressed his nostrils. His eyelids became heavy, and he was ready to drift off to the sweet land of dreams.

“Arthur!”

“Shit!” Arthur muttered in panic and rushed to pick up his clothes from the floor. He didn’t want his brother to catch him in his bed naked. They didn’t like each other, and Arthur didn’t want to give him another reason to laugh at him.

“Arthur! Are you home?”

He heard steps coming closer to his room. His legs got stuck in his boxers as he tried to put them on quickly.

“Yeah!”

The door opened.

“Hey, Scott,” Kirkland said and smiled weakly, pretending to be sick.

“Why didn’t you answer me when I called you?”

“I didn’t hear, I was sleeping.”

Scotland looked at Arthur with a grain of salt.

“It’s afternoon. Were you really sleeping?”

“Yeah. I feel sick a little. I guess I got food poisoning. China brought his rice noodles to the meeting and I tried it. Guess it was a bad idea.”

“Alright. Get well, then.”

“Thank you. That’s really kind of you.”

“Piss off, you twat.”

The door closed, and Arthur sighed, finally putting on his boxers which were still on his knees. This was the first time he regretted that he and Ivan decided to keep everything in secret.

***

* Uvidimsya - See you

===

The meeting finished. Arthur, as usual, started cleaning up the blackboard as everyone was leaving the conference room. In the corner of the eye, he spotted Ivan looking at him before leaving and smiled. He liked catching glances and unintended touching when they weren’t alone. He was sure he was discreet enough so no one else would notice this. Arthur was a great spy, after all.

“Hey, Britain…” he heard Francis’s voice behind his back.

“What?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“I’ve got no desire whatsoever to talk to you,” Arthur blurred.

“Ah, finally, Britain I always knew!” Bonnefoy sighed with relief. “You were acting so strange recently, you were too… kind?”

“You’re imagining things.”

“As if. You know, I’ve noticed something and understand what is wrong with you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Arthur started cleaning the blackboard more vigorously, however, there was nothing to clean already.

“You do. You don’t confront me and America anymore. It seems like you’re just zoning out on our meetings. And I guess I know why. You’re in love.”

Arthur stopped. He couldn’t believe that Francis could even say that. He couldn’t be in love, he didn’t even know what it’s like to be in love anyway. He clenched his fingers in the wiping sponge as his heart started beating faster.

“You’re wrong,” he said lifelessly.

“Am I? Oh, mon bel ami, it’s obvious that the mightiest power in the world has finally conquered you. I can tell, I’m an expert at this. So, who’s this lucky person?”

“No one,” Arthur muttered and turned to Francis with the furious look. “I’m not able to love.”

“You…” Francis breathed out in shock. “You genuinely don’t know you’re in love? Oh, mon Dieu! I’m so happy I figured it out before you!”

“Stop it.”

“I’m so glad for you! My boy has finally grown up,” Bonnefoy hugged Arthur tightly and shuffled his hair. “I can only wish you could understand your happiness. Au revoir!”

Francis walked out of the room, leaving Kirkland puzzled. What is even like to be in love? He had no idea. He had never loved anyone in a romantic sense before. Could he consider his feelings for Ivan as love? Arthur doubted it. He wanted Braginsky, there was no doubt. He loved having sex with him, moreover, he might say that Ivan was his best partner ever. Yes, recently he started to feel the need for him to stay longer after their sessions and cuddle. Was that love? Arthur didn’t think so. Yes, he started to catch his glance at the meetings and feel somewhat happy when their gazes met. Was that love? What is love anyway?..

“‘Ey…”

Arthur raised his head and saw Ivan standing on a threshold. His lips subconsciously stretched in a smile.

“Hey.”

“So, everyone’s left,” Ivan went on and smiled back. “We can lock the room…”

Instead of answering, Arthur went to the door and locked it. Ivan smiled and planted the kiss on his lips.

“On the table,” Arthur breathed out when their lips parted. His heart was beating like mad as he leant to Ivan’s neck and left a bruise there, not being afraid of someone noticing it. But along with such a familiar feeling of arousal Arthur felt something else that he couldn’t explain.

“Is this love?..”

===

Summer had finally arrived, bringing the hot and stuffy weather with it. That meant that the meetings were to stop until the autumn. Arthur saw a great opportunity to have some rest and make up his mind. For the last few months, he couldn’t help but think about the words Bonnefoy said to him.

“You’re in love!”

He thought about it a lot but he couldn’t come up with an answer. He doubted everything, and the further it went, the more overwhelmed he got. The only time he could forget about it was the time when he and Braginsky had sex, but after it, when he was holding Ivan in his arms and stroking his hair, the thoughts attacked his brain more intensely. Ivan was telling him that his heart started beating faster than usual, and Kirkland himself could feel it, but he preferred to think that this was only because of those thoughts. What else could it be, after all?

Soon Arthur understood that he had enough. He planned a secret trip to Seychelles to have some rest. Michelle didn’t mind, in fact, she welcomed his decision and promised that she wouldn’t tell this to anyone. Arthur didn’t want anyone to know where he was. However, there was one person to whom he wanted to tell everything.

Arthur was lying in his bed. Ivan’s strong arms were gently pressing his body against the big muscular chest. Arthur placed his head against his lover’s collarbone and inhaled his scent.

“Ivan…” he sighed. “I need something to tell you.”

“What is it?”

Ivan’s voice sounded worried and concerned.

“I, uh… I’m leaving for summer to the place where I can be all alone with my thoughts. No one knows about it, except you. I don’t want anyone to be aware of it.”

Arthur hugged Ivan tightly.

“So, I won’t see you until autumn?” Ivan asked sadly.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry but you should understand. I need it. A lot of things happened to me recently, and I’m too overwhelmed. So…”

“I know what you mean. So go for it if you feel the need. But I’ll be missing you.”

Arthur smiled and kissed Ivan’s neck.

“I’ll miss you too.”

Ivan gently grabbed Arthur’s chin and kissed him. The kiss was long, slow, and no one wanted to break it. They both knew that it was one of the last kisses before a long parting.

“When are you leaving?” Ivan asked after their lips parted.

“Tomorrow morning.”

“So this is my last chance to be with you before your departure…”

Arthur felt Ivan’s arms hugging him more tightly.

“This is not forever. I’ll come back, and we’ll keep going on.”

“I’ll be waiting for you. Ya lublu tebya*.”

“Huh?” Arthur raised his head. “What does that mean?”

“I wish you good holidays,” Ivan smiled, but his eyes weren’t smiling as well.

***

Ya lublu tebya - I love you

===

“Whoa, it’s really hot in here,” Arthur said, using his boarding pass as a fan.

“It’s not that hot now, you know. In winters it’s hotter,” Michelle smiled broadly. “Feel like at home. But not like you did back then! Otherwise, I’m going to throw you out.”

“I’m not gonna conquer you,” Arthur chuckled. “I’m too old for this stuff, I guess.”

“That’s good. So, your trips here become frequent, huh? First, the Royal Family’s honeymoon, now it’s you… Is there any reason behind it?”

“Not really… I just wanted to find someplace where I could be alone with my thoughts. A lot of stuff is going on lately. Brexit, Scott wants to live separately again, this kind of stuff. And… One more thing that bothers me. Kinda personal…”

Arthur sighed.

“Something’s wrong? Maybe I can help you?” Michelle suggested.

“I… don’t know. How good are you at relationships?”

“Uh… I don’t know, but I’ll try to help you if you want.”

“Okay, so…” Arthur stuck for a second, trying to gather his thoughts. “I’ve got a fuckbuddy.”

“Arthur! Your language!”

“There’s nothing wrong with this term. I just don’t know how else I can call them. Friends with benefits, maybe, but the point is that we’re not really friends. Anyway… Some time ago I’ve noticed that I feel something different towards that person. Not absolutely different, though, I still want them and stuff, but now I want to spend time with them not only having sex. Recently we started cuddling after sessions; before that, we just dressed up and said our goodbyes. Sometimes I catch myself thinking about them… And sometimes I see them in my dreams. I don’t know. This is so strange and bizarre. Francis noticed that and said that I’m in love, but I doubt it. First of all, what is love anyway? And… We have very complicated relationships. We never really liked each other… They even had a grudge against me. So I don’t think that it’s possible for me to love them. Oh God, why am I telling you this...”

“Apparently because you have no one else to tell that,” Michelle presumed. “And… You know, I think that Francis is right. You really are in love with them.”

“You too?” Arthur yelled frustrated. “I don’t love them!”

“Why are you afraid of loving someone?” Michelle raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t, I just don’t love anyone,” Arthur crossed his arms.

“I can’t understand your reaction. Why are you trying to be an emotional cactus? You’re capable of loving, and you know that, but you’re terrified of it. Yet, your eyes were shining when you were telling me about that person. Just admit it, and it’ll be easier.”

“Love is a weakness.”

“You really have no idea what love is,” Michelle laughed. “I hope you’ll find the strength to admit it one day.”

All summer Arthur was literally living inside four walls of his room. For a reason, obviously - it was the only place with air conditioning. Sometimes he went to a beach which was neatly located near Michelle’s house or visited the local city or jungles. Michelle was really kind to be a guide during those strolls. Arthur basically did everything just to forget about all the problems he left behind, and somewhat he succeeded at this. The only thing he couldn’t forget was Ivan.

Every time he popped up in Arthur’s mind when he was the least ready for it. When he was walking down the local market, he always thought, looking at one thing or another, that Ivan would like it. When he was on the beach, lying under burning sun or walking beside the ocean at nights, he wanted Ivan to be with him. And every time the image of Ivan appeared in Arthur’s head, he felt his heart aching. At first, Arthur thought that this was normal and there was nothing special about it, at least, Ivan wasn’t the only one who Arthur missed. But when he was thinking of others, he didn’t feel anything like that. Arthur missed Ivan a lot. Moreover, he needed him. He missed his touches, rough and gentle. He missed the heat of his body, his silky hair, his velvet skin. He missed his quiet voice. He missed his smile that was always on his face. He missed his deep violet eyes. He-

No.

He just missed him, that’s it.

===

The holiday was over. Arthur didn’t want it to end - he really liked not being in touch with anyone so no one would bother him. But at the same time, he was happy it ended, as that meant that he was going to see Ivan soon. He was waiting for this moment for all the holidays, and the further it went, the stronger was the urge. And finally, he was there, on a threshold of his room.

When he opened the door, he couldn’t believe his eyes. There was Ivan, sitting on his bed and smiling. Kirkland dropped his bags, grinned and ran to him to hug as tight as he could. His heart was overjoyed by the sight of his lover.

“Welcome back,” Ivan whispered.

“How did you get here?” Arthur asked, looking straight into Ivan’s eyes.

“The portal,” he smiled. “You forgot to close it when you summoned me last time, so I decided to use it and make you a little surprise.”

“Oh my god, I’m so happy to see you again!” Arthur felt his heart beating like mad. He kissed Ivan roughly, tasting his lips hungrily as if he hadn’t seen him for centuries, and he felt dizzy. “I want you so much…”

“I want you too…”

Arthur pushed Ivan on the bed and sat on him, leaning to his neck. The skin on Ivan’s neck became white and clean, and Arthur felt the urge to mark it with a hickey. He felt Ivan’s hands slipping up his back, raising his t-shirt, and ripped the shirt on his lover’s chest. A rain of buttons fell on the floor. Arthur didn’t care anymore, he wanted him, and he wanted him now. Ivan’s bulge was telling him that his desire was mutual. Kirkland took off his t-shirt, threw it on the floor and sat, pulling Ivan’s body to him. His skin was burning hot, every touch responded with a shiver. Their lips joined into another hot and passionate kiss, and Arthur started grinding against Ivan’s huge bulge with his own. Braginsky let out a quiet moan through the kiss and reached to Arthur’s belt, unzipping his jeans and releasing his fully erected dick. His fingers were caressing it gently, and Arthur felt that he started to lose his mind.

“I want to be inside you…” he whispered, kissing Ivan’s neck. “You’re driving me crazy…”

Ivan smiled, gently pushed Arthur off and lay on a bed, spreading his legs.

“Then do it,” he raised his eyebrow and smirked.

Arthur climbed on Ivan, kissing his way down from his neck. His hands tried to unzip his jeans, but Arthur was too aroused to deal with it neatly. Finally, he managed to do it, and he pulled Ivan’s jeans off, giving the last kiss on the trail that went down from his bellybutton.

“So, are you ready?” Arthur asked and reached his drawer to get a bottle of lube.

“I was waiting for it for 3 months already. I can’t be more ready than now…”

Arthur smiled and opened the bottle. Everything was so familiar, almost automatic, but 3-month-long pause made him feel like it was for the first time. He liked this a lot, it made him aroused even more, and his whole body was trembling slightly with every touch. Ivan jerked his hips and whimpered, letting Arthur know that he was already desperate for him. Arthur didn’t make him wait anymore and entered him. Ivan’s muscles clenched around his dick, making him groan loudly. Ivan was tight, very tight; it felt like Arthur was ripping him apart with every his movement. He was craving for this for so long, and now, at that very moment, his desire had finally turned to life. When he was away, he thought about it very often, but none of those jerking sessions couldn’t be compared with reality. Ivan obviously wanted this as well. The way he was moaning and rolling his eyes in ecstasy left absolutely no doubt in it, and it felt like it wasn’t enough for him. He was scratching his back, leaving noticeable marks on it, kissed Arthur’s lips hard, so they became red and swollen. In any other day Kirkland would ban this as he wouldn’t want anyone to be suspicious, but now he didn’t care. The feeling of pure bliss was the only thing that mattered.

Suddenly Braginsky pulled himself, making Arthur slipping out of him. Kirkland hadn’t enough time to surprise, as Ivan leant to his neck and started covering it with small kisses and light bites. He hugged Arthur tightly and rolled over so now he was on top of him. Kirkland understood - he clearly hadn’t had enough so he decided to take over. Arthur was about to spread his legs to let him in, but instead of that, Ivan sat on him and slipped his cock inside. Arthur hissed and dug his nails into the skin on Ivan’s thighs. It wasn’t very often for him to be a power bottom, for Arthur it was a more common practice. But damn, he was so good. Ivan was riding him so vigorously, moaning and biting his lips. Arthur took his dick in his hand, jerking it off in rhythm, and felt Ivan’s body tensing and trembling. He was on edge as well, and as soon as hot white liquid sprayed on his stomach and chest, he moaned, jerked his hips up to push himself even deeper and came. His mind went blank, and he even lost his conscience for a few seconds because of the intensity of the orgasm.

The first thing Arthur saw when he opened his eyes was Ivan’s puzzled face. His eyes were staring right into him, making him feel uneasy.

“Something’s wrong?” Arthur asked.

“Do you really… love me?”

Arthur choked with his own spit.

“Why- wh- wha- I-”

“You were saying this over and over while cumming, and then blacked out…”

Everything inside Arthur ran cold. He didn’t even remember saying this. So did that mean that Francis and Michelle were right? That couldn’t be true, this was impossible. Or… Was it?..

“You don’t seem to be happy about it…” Ivan said sadly.

“No, I mean… I…” Arthur hid his face in his hands. “I was afraid of it. Of loving…”

“Why?” Ivan seemed to be shocked by hearing that.

“I… I’m convinced that love is pain and weakness. I loved a few people, not romantically… And they all gave me back nothing but unbearable pain. They all betrayed me, crushed me and left me behind. So I gave myself a word that from then on, I would never let this happen. I wanted to grow stronger than I was, and loneliness seemed to be the only way to do this. And then… There were you. That night… I don’t regret it, I’ll never regret it, but… This was the beginning. I started to develop something towards you, I liked it, but I was afraid that it was love. I was scared that if I opened my heart, you’d squash it like everyone else did. I’m sorry, and I understand that this is not the best thing to hear… But… They all were the reason why I can’t trust anyone now…”

Arthur shut his eyes. It felt like his heart turned into a heavy rock with sharp edges. He knew that he hurt Ivan with those words, but he felt like he should have told him everything. Something fell on his shoulder and ran down, leaving a trail. Arthur was sure that it was a tear. He rolled on his side, facing away from Ivan, and clenched a blanket in his hands.

“I understand if you want to leave and never see me again.”

“Never.”

Ivan’s voice was firm. Arthur turned around to see Ivan’s face. Wet trails of tears were shining, but his face was deadly serious.

“I will never leave you. I want you to understand that love is not that bad as you think. I love you. I love you so much. It hurts me when you say this, but I understand it. And that’s why I want to prove you wrong. I want to show you what it’s like to be loved. And I will always be by your side no matter what.”

Strong arms gently pressed Kirkland’s body against the muscular chest. Arthur couldn’t understand why Ivan stayed but he was glad he did it. He hugged Braginsky back and exhaled heavily. Even though he didn’t have much faith, he really hoped Ivan was right.

#aph england #aph russia #arthur kirkland #ivan braginsky #rusuk #ukrus #ruseng #engrus #fanfiction

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fidelitasadmiralandcvl · 6 years

Text

retirement notice

I really didn't want to do this, but I knew this would be inevitable. My time as an RPer must come to a conclusion. With my health rapidly declining due to overworking and immense stress and hardly any time to be at the computer thanks to work and school, it's time I retire from the hobby. What started out as a little fun my old online friends dragged me into back when I was in high school turned into a solid 7-8 years (??? or more??? I lost track of it) of experience and fun. I knew this couldn't go on forever. Although 21 is a young age to retire from it, I knew a year ago that it was close to my expiration date for role playing.

After having spoken to one of my closest RPing friends about the matter, he was right. I should not be denying the cruel truth of reality. It would also be unfair to many of my partners to constantly delay them of my replies and contents. I would love to be on, but at the same time, most of my energy is already spent working and tending to my real life matters. I'm going to NYU, I'm going to become an epidemiologist, I'm going to be working my bottom off, I'm planning to continue my prospective plan into medical school shortly afterward, and I'm definitely planning to work till I die for my community in the health profession. No matter how hard I try to calculate my schedule, RPing... just won't fit in anywhere.

So I apologize for leaving right after my "brief hiatus", but I like to let everyone know that I really enjoy your company and I enjoy getting to be creative with you all. Even if we barely see each other on the dashboard, I really love your content as I'm the type of person who reads whenever I have the chance. If... I don't bury my head in the drafts department. Also, shout out to these folks that I got to know for a long period of time! (some may come from my other accounts because yolo, I'm too tired to bother clarifying my existence and identity more than once)

@oceanaiad : BAE, u r the moon to my sun-- I don’t even know what’s going on anymore, lmao. Anyway, I’m really happy to be RPing with you and I’m sad we can’t RP anymore on Tumblr, but you are amazing, girl. Your skills in the community make my heart go doki doki. Continue to be awesome, Seon, and remember to keep Lucifer under your wings. Also, plz keep Deuce from killing people with her cookies. She’s too sweet just like you you precious little honey bun <3 Let’s continue to be friends OOC and cry over Granblue Fantasy and... and the many things we cry over. just... :SLDKFJ:LKSDJF:LSKDJF SOYA SOYA SOYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

@6thfleet : BRUH BRUH BRUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, you’re chill and you know, you’re a good listener and you’re just an adorable little puffball that I can just??? SQUISH?????? Like why are you so good in this world???? Anyway, you’re... well, to be frank, you introduced me into the KanColle fandom with a positive bang and I’m grateful that you were one of the first RPers in that fandom to interact with my newbie muse. And for someone that mostly stuck around Final Fantasy folks? That means a lot to me. So thank you for being there with me... and being there when I switch to other fandoms! That really means so much more to me too as someone so flexible. I hope we can remain friends even beyond the RPing realm!

@chaoticflicker : onii-sama, you mean so much to me in this world. That may sound like an exaggeration, but I’m not joking about that. You’re someone that stuck with me since the very first day I stepped into RPing. I still remember those embarassing moments in Twitter that we both would like to delete 4ever, lol!! No matter if I replied or not due to my hectic life, you always take the time out of your day to drop in a positive message in both Facebook and Discord. It’s not even limited to that... in Twitter and here too. Even if I didn’t respond to them, I can surely tell you that I have read them and I feel grateful to have a friend like you in my life. As for RPing, you were always with me no matter which fandom I went into. Your Vincent... is honestly kickass and one of the best I’ve interacted with! Let’s continue to be friends and talk about gaming when we have the chance!! P.S. when will we ever have the release date for FF VII Remake and confirmation that they’re ever going to work on FF Type-Next ; ;

@convxction : FATY I AM SO SORRY I HAVE TO FINALLY RETIRE FROM THIS S:DLFKJ:SLDKJF:LSKDJF you’re like the best Chrom and Eight and Machina I’ve ever interacted and my heart cries like insane when you exist. why are you so precious and why are you so beautiful??? But seriously, I’m really happy to be your RP partners since the good old days when Type-0 used to... well... have a much bigger fandom than what we have right now, lmao. There’s probably like one or two of you leftover. ; ; I’m so sorry I’m going to disappear from this amazing tiny community. You’re an amazing RPer and you are a kind individual that the world needs more of. I hope we can continue to be friends and crey over literally everything that the world throws at us.. especially that ending of Type-0. Never forget Class Zero and Machina and Rem and Kurasame and--

@oursongofhealing : ok, this is going to sound like some random stalker tagged you because I’m a creep, but just letting you know that this “creep” is that other Deuce RPer who constantly disappears like a ninja (this -> @flutistplayer ,) lmaooo. Just want to let you know that I’m proud to be one of the many RPers who interacted with you. Because your Deuce is just godly??? AND I LOVE YOUR PORTRAYAL OF HER??? And for being so open to me for interaction despite us having the same muse??? Like that really means so much and you’re just amazing. I’m going to be another member from the fandom who takes their leave, so I feel guilty about it, but at the same time, I’m happy to be a part of the community with you. Continue to be the awesome RPer ! (folks rlly, follow this person because they got good skills)

@asktheattorney : Girl, you deserve so much in this world. Like so much more than the sun itself. Like... sob, you’re just an amzing RPer. I’m not going to lie, your quality really is amazing and I’m just proud to be one of the many lucky RPers who can interact with you. You’re amazing and I’m just-- I’m just a seed facing the sun and being a tiny existence, lmao. But seriously, you’re a chill person and I really enjoy talking deep OOC stuff with you!!! You’re so cool and you’re an amazing person that I’m glad to get to know! I hope we can continue to be friends beyond the RP realm!

@shugcxrcuei-jin : BROTHER MY LONG LOST BROTHER WE ARE LITERALLY ONE OF THE SAME. Except different gender, LMAO. I’ve never met anyone who is the same hybrid as me and I’m just??? Like whoa????? AND WE LIKE THE SAME STUFF AND CRAVE FOR THE SAME STUFF LMAO. I’m so sad that we won’t be able to interact on Tumblr anymore, but hey... we can always fantasize about our muses with their future marriage, lmao. Not to mention that we have each other on Facebook, so feel free to hit me up on Messenger! I’m sure you’ll be “glad” to hear the storm of complaints on my end about schooling eventually, lmaoo

@foulmouthedscythe : OI WE SHOULD CONTINUE TO COMPLAIN ABOUT WHEN SICE WILL POP UP IN DISSIDIA OPERA-- OR EVEN IN DISSIDIA NT-- Jokes aside, ;alksjdf;lakjsdf;laksjdf you are such an amazing RPer and I’m so happy that you’re one of the small number of Type-0 RPers that are somewhat surviving out... in the desert that is called the Final Fantasy Type-0 fandom, lmao..... Anyway, I hope we can continue to be friends beyond RPing and theorize about... everything, I suppose, lmao. P.S. Your Sice is amazing and I cry because let’s be honest, her sin level is far tinier than Deuce for whatever reason, LMAO

If I miss anyone, I apologize since there’s just so much of you, but just know that I love you all equally! With that finally out of the way, I hope you all have a wonderful life, you enjoy your day (even if it's cloudy, the sun will eventually shine), and who knows, we might bump into each other one day. Maybe.

For those that wish to continue contact with me, Discord is... actually not a good option anymore as I barely go on that platform. The best way to contact me is via Twitter at @animeminafans (kudos to those who got the pun in that username). For those who know more on a personal level, I’m more than happy to share my Facebook information.

Deuce, Admiral Yori, and Houshou would also like to bid their farewells! We'll miss everyone and move on with our lives. They’re one of the longer running muses that stuck with me for a longer period of time. Especially the Admiral and Deuce. Those two deserve equal treatment of respect and love from... well, from me really, lmao. No one else is obligated to deal with them. But I can only hope that their interactions touched a bit in your character’s life.

May you all achieve so much in your life as I will do my best on my end. This is farewell!

- Crystal

#░▒▓ who was that? (( ooc ))#((//that's all folks))#((//everything will be archived))

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ferryboatpeak · 6 years

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good things by good people: the best fic i read in 2017

The community aspect of writing fic is easily my favorite part of fandom. I was so lucky this year to get to know so many talented writers who brainstormed with me and encouraged me and allowed me to beta for them and left me nice comments and tolerated me screaming into their inboxes. So I’m going to close out the year by gushing about all of them and my favorite things they wrote in 2017.

queerlyalex: I learned multishipping at @queerlyalex’s feet, and I continue to admire their versatility, enthusiasm, and prolific production. Also I am eternally grateful to them for reblogging me early on; it’s only thanks to Alex that I have any pals around here. Alex absolutely slayed me with a few well-crafted sentences this year (e.g., ”Louis stares at Niall like he’s a map without a legend.”) and I also adored their hiatus nouis and creepy robot nouis and… okay, I just realized Alex is my favorite nouis writer.

Mildly_Maddy: @mildlymaddy writes with such heart and tenderness, and I particularly admire the physicality of her writing. Cold noses, headaches, fingernail scratches… she always makes me feel the characters’ physical sensations. Maddy’s also the most genius editor in all the wide world; every single thing I’ve written this year has benefited from her keen eye and unerring ability to not only diagnose the problem but to come up with the solution. Finally, Maddy makes brevity her bitch. Nobody writes tagfic like she does, and her hamille drabble might be my favorite thing I’ve read this year, 100 words densely packed with so many things I love (a clever joke on current canon, positive treatment of female side characters, harry in a collar). In 2017 I also particularly loved her hedgehog fairy louis, lilo bad wardrobe phone sex (a brilliant concept well-executed), and of course her nouis post-louelle breakup porn.

dramaturgicallycorrect: I am in awe of @wickershire’s skills at worldbuilding. She writes an amazing diversity of settings and eras, and every single one of them feels completely realized. She also has this way of centering her characterizations on lesser-emphasized canon details, which is a brilliant trick that makes her characters feel simultaneously familiar and fresh. Her wolvesfest fic leaned into Niall’s fearlessness, Harry’s need to feel useful, and Louis’s protectiveness. Her Wimbledon fic took Harry’s treatment by the media and somehow used it to make this clumsy deer-legged menace into a believable professional athlete, alchemy of the highest order. (The sentence that laid me flat: "He stretches his long limbs as far as they can go and just like that, everything that’s Liam’s belongs to him.") Her narry road trip fic turned Harry’s aggressive image curation into obsessive travel experience planning (ohhhhh goddddddd, “’You’re an act of god,’ Niall tells him, but he means Harry’s a natural fucking disaster.”) AND AS IF THIS WASN’T ENOUGH, Kate also wrote the alex/peter fic the world needed.

saysthemagpie: You’re all aware that @saysthemagpie is the total package: brilliant plotting, achingly beautiful character development, gorgeous imagery, hilarious crack, and smoking hot sex scenes. I love Jes’s writing so much that it’s hard to narrow down my 2017 favorites, except that her dunkirk sex pest crackfic is unquestionably at the top of the list. 50 shades fionrry was also an instant classic, and I think the very first appearance of the barry characterization we didn’t know we needed but now can never live without. I also loved every scrap we got of small town divorce fic and sexswap narry and dog park lilo/fionrry and hazoff mpreg, and she finished always be your boy with some grade-A Harry Styles suffering. Also, these particular sentences: “He feels light and sort of airy, like someone’s flung open all the windows inside of him, sunlight spilling in.” and “When his gaze drops to Mitch’s mouth, Mitch feels the tug of it in his chest, a pull like the tide: moon-drawn, inexorable.” and “when he can’t stop himself testing his thumb against the bright keen edge of his loss”

countthestars: @moondoggiestyle is a plotting genius who somehow manages to make the tropiest of tropes suspenseful. She can turn any scrap of canon into angst, usually in a way that’s also hilarious, and I really admire the way she interacts with prompts and cultivates readership. Here’s how much I have reread her fic: I was beta’ing something of hers and recognized a turn of phrase repeated from something else she wrote like two years ago, and I almost didn’t say anything because I was super embarrassed to admit that I am like the foremost scholar of her work. I am forever grateful that she’s put up with me chattering away in her inbox all year long about hitch and werewolves and the midwest, and allowed me to deluge her with my thoughts on the excellent when the wolves come out under the guise of beta’ing it. Other 2017 favorites: hitch, and more hitch, harry vs. shapeshifting demon (SO MANY LAUGHS IN SO FEW WORDS), pop punk nouis (my number one dream in life is 50K of this), the small town little league au, and oh my god this sentence: “His touch is soft, almost tentative, like Niall’s something breakable. Like Niall’s not something he’s already broken.” ALSO she has written the very best part of dark werewolf hitch and if I have to construct a 40k ark to bear her 1K forth to the world in 2018 I will happily do so.

fliptomybside: uni fionrry is maybe my favorite verse going right now. It’s soft and hot and tentative and happy and I love every new installment. I also love @polaroidgirlfriend‘s queer kendall and how effectively she’s characterized through the many ways she tries to physically erase herself.(”She spreads her arms and her legs out so they’re not touching. It’s easier to feel weightless, this way. Takes away her awareness of her own limbs and the way she takes up space.”)

sunsetmog: I am in awe of how @magicalrocketships makes every single sentence, every single word, contribute to character development (this 26-line story is a perfect example.) In 2017, she upended the famous/not-famous trope with Harry Styles Cooks.... I love, love, love that Louis’s reaction to Harry appearing on his doorstep is to be mad at him for materializing instead of remaining a safely abstract celebrity crush. She also blessed us all with You’re a Naughty Rabbit, Louis; a long-awaited installment of I Had Rather; and the gryles Mallorca fic we all desperately needed.

rilla: The greatest zarry author of all time posted little writing this year but every bit of it was exceptional. Her hogwarts zarry has all the beauty and wonder the source material is missing, her similes make me want to cry (”He’s lit around the edges like someone’s taken a cigarette lighter to a sheet of paper”), and even this plot outline was exquisite. (@flomps, we don’t talk enough? I’m so grateful you hung on in this fandom long enough for me to know you even a little, though.)

yeahloads: Attempting to praise @harryshippudge by praising her fic is a misleading exercise because it completely misses a major area of her genius, namely her brilliance at generating plots and prompting others to do the same. I have written thousands upon thousands of words because Liz asked the right question or came up with the right twist on a trope, and I hope that someday she will bring her abandoned wolvesfest concept to life either as gryles or as original fiction, because it’s an absolutely brilliant idea. The single snippet she posted is maybe my favorite thing she wrote this year. (Although I am also delighted she got on board the hitch train, and her hazoff abo mpreg verse is weird and wonderful communication porn.)

1000-directions: I love @1000-directions’s quick wit, grace under fire, and willingness to go as niche as it gets (ESPECIALLY breaking the seal on loufro, a ship that I have high hopes for in 2018). Her pig dog POV was one of the most clever, original things I read this year -- the voice sounds just like a dog wagging its tail. I also deeply appreciate her Camille blogging and the associated fic.

#la's 2017 introspection #this list is not ranked #it's roughly in the order in which we became mutuals #and hell yes this is me bragging that all these amazing people are my mutuals #sorry this is so long #i wanted everyone in one post #and nobody behind the cut #fic rec

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orionsangel86 · 7 years

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13x01 - Episode Review - Part 2

"Nougat Winchester” and narrative mirrors in 13x01

It has taken me forever to finish this part of my review to the extent that we have already had another episode before I finished it! But rather than curse my inability to focus I’m gonna press on and complete this before I start my 13x02 review.

Ah Jack, Jack our little nougat Jack. The way the fandom has embraced you is very touching. The internet screams of “PROTECT HIM” certainly show that Alexander Calvert has done an exceptional job of “pulling a Misha” and making us fall in love with him by the end of his first scene. I was not expecting that one bit.

I’ll be honest and say that over the hiatus I haven’t paid too much attention to him. I did read some of the meta and speculation that @tinkdw and others put out there, but it was never really something I focused my thoughts on. I figured he would be another character that would test the team free will dynamic and would be a good avenue for the writers to comment on the concepts of nature vs nurture. I remember reading some speculation once the episode titles first came out about “The Scorpion and the Frog” and anyone who knows that story knows very well that the title itself foreshadows Jack going darkside – to his own potential destruction. (The scorpion, in carrying out its own “nature” and stinging the frog that carried it – not only doomed the frog, but doomed itself as well.)

Jack has officially won me over though. He was a charming innocent and funny character, and I think his interactions with Clark brought a lot of light to an otherwise terribly angsty and painfully heart breaking episode. (#bringbackClark2k17)

But what really blew me away was how both Jack AND Clark were such OBVIOUS mirrors for Dean and Cas and to a lesser extent to Sam. It amused me to no end. Therefore this review will focus on those mirrors, and what they mean.

Long post under the cut

Jack is a narrative mirror of Team Free Will

This is the important thing to remember. He is all of them, and will have aspects of all them characterised into his personality as we continue to get to know the character in the coming episodes.

I am sure that there are already thousands of words of meta on this topic (since I’m over a week late to the game) but I’m gonna throw my hat in the ring anyway.

The most obvious mirror we get from Jack is for Castiel. I have said already that Castiel was all over every single scene of 13x01. That Dabb didn’t want the audience forgetting him for a second. (thank you Dabb you wonderful man). I have already seen the many gifsets floating around comparing all of Jack’s “Cas” moments to the original famous Cas moments in the show - and we know that this carries over into episode 2 as well.

Firstly, we can see immediately in the way Jack is dressed that he is coded as a Cas mirror:

Look at the tan jacket, the pale blue shirt, visually he is already a mini Cas. Remember they could have dressed him in ANYTHING. They chose a tan Jacket and pale blues. They chose these colours because this show has a visual library and certain things always mean certain things. Put someone in a tan coat or jacket and they are a Cas mirror. This is how these things work.

(the bulls horns hand symbol does however have Lucifer connotations which ties him to his biological father whether he likes it or not - but more on that when I go on about signs and symbols).

Probably the most “Cas” like moment in this episode was this one:

(x)

Poor baby is just as literal as his dad:

(x)

But there are many more. The constant confused expression for starts:

(I’m still waiting for the moment he actually does the head tilt as we all know it’s coming)

The scene with the candy was delightful - and gave him the fandom pet name of “Nougat Winchester” which I have stolen from Lizzy as my new tag for him because its so fitting.

(and we like you sweetheart)

(on that note - I did find it interesting that Jack isn’t able to answer the Sheriff when she asks him for a last name. Surely he knows his mother’s name was Kline? Why didn’t he give her that? We were all calling him “Jack Kline” over hiatus, but now it doesn’t seem like its the case - personally I think this is because he will indeed get “adopted” as a Winchester and will use the surname at some point in future - probably in front of Lucifer causing a hell of a lot of anger. God knows the show has pointed out enough times over the past season that Castiel is a Winchester - leading to mainstream media giving him the last name:

Why yes I did add my destiel adjacent quiz results to meta about Jack. I have no regrets. :P

Anyway, as I was saying Jack is a huge Cas mirror, and his adorably gluttonous love of candy was a call back to:

Perhaps we can once again talk about angels and addiction and how this may affect Jack? Because they really don’t have the self control that human’s do (even though Cas was affected by famine at this particular moment).

So why is Jack a mirror for Cas? Well this is probably the first clue:

I screamed the first time I watched this moment. I think we all expected it to remain subtextual. We all know that this season will explore the role of fatherhood and how it affects each character, but this was so much more than we were expecting. Jack is a Cas mirror because he has majorly imprinted on Cas from the womb. He is first and foremost a Cas mirror because Cas is on his mind from the moment of his birth, and this reveal confirms it. Every question of “Father?” that he says so ominously in the first part of the episode is directed at Castiel. It is Castiel he was looking for, not Lucifer.

I did say that Castiel was in every second of this episode, forcing the audience to continuously remember him and his importance - and this moment made me jump for joy.

The way the episode continuously plays with the audiences expectations is really interesting. They want us to assume the worst of Jack, but each time he surprises us by delighting us with some adorable Cas like thing. Jack says “I’m hungry” and we are supposed to feel uneasy about that because just 2 seasons ago we had another very hungry powerful child who fulfilled her hunger by eating human souls. We are supposed to worry about Clark in that moment, and to follow the Sheriff down the darkened halls and flickering lights terrified of what Jack has done - but he is sitting there cross legged on the floor with Clarke surrounded by candy wrappers and proclaiming how much he likes nougat. Its a lovely moment and it forces the audience to change their minds completely.

When Jack reveals that he thinks Cas is his father, our reaction is much the same as Sam’s, but we fall for him just like Sam does, and it sets the season up nicely because for once the audience is NOT supposed to be on Dean’s side here. (I’ll talk about this more in my review of episode 2 where it is more relevant but basically, we are supposed to feel sorry for Dean because we know that he isn’t seeing things clearly. We are supposed to root for Jack and be on Sam’s side in all this, and to see Dean as a character shrouded in a deep grief and anger)

I love that they made it textual that Cas is the father. (major flashbacks to 11x06 right now though)

“Jenny, he is not ready to be a father!”

I’ll continue jumping for joy over this as the season goes forward, but for now I want to talk about how Jack is also a mirror for Dean. Because he is and it again, wasn’t subtle.

(x)

A young boy on a quest to find his father, to have to accept the death of his mother right at the start, and who is forced to grow up far quicker than he should? Yeah that sounds about right.

Whilst Dean and Jack seem at odds with each other from the start, they are both set up as mirrors in their joint grief for Castiel. That heart wrenching moment at the end of the episode where Dean is wrapping Castiel’s body for the pyre comes only moments after we get to see Jack’s own grief for his mother so touchingly portrayed as a grip to her covered foot. Both Dean and Jack are only shown touching the feet of those they lost, there is probably some deep symbolic meaning to that linked to Christ and washing the feet of his disciples or something but I’ll leave that meta to someone far more versed in bible lore than me.

We know that in episode 2 the Dean parallels get much stronger, with Dean being the second Winchester (after Cas) that he imprints upon. I’ll talk about this in my episode 2 review, and instead leave this here. Jack is Dean for his grief, and his ties to humanity, and how he has been robbed of his childhood. I am interested to see how they go about keeping Jack innocent. He is in the body of a man, but his mind is still so childlike. I hope that he becomes a symbol for Dean’s own innocence in a theme started in 12x11.

Finally, the one touched on the least in episode 1 but probably the most significant to Jack’s own arc going forward - Jack as a mirror for Sam.

What so far is probably the least obvious in terms of mirror’s is actually the most obvious in terms of story lines. There is a reason Sam so desperately wants to believe in Jack, believe that he is good and can do good things. Because Sam has been in this situation himself.

Sam’s entire early series arc was about fighting the darkness inside himself, fighting against his own dark powers that came from a place of evil, and resisting Lucifer’s pull. Sam’s been there. So of course Sam is rooting for the kid. Sam and Jack have the biggest connection in terms of their connection to Lucifer. Sam immediately tries to see things through Jack’s point of view. Yes, he’s not as tied down with grief and anger as Dean is - Sam hasn’t just lost the love of his life (though the deancas parallels to SamJess are very strong throughout 12x23 and 13x01 as well).

Sam still has hope, because he see’s himself in Jack. He knows he managed to resist that dark power, and he has faith that Jack can to. I expect the Sam/Jack mirrors to come through far more strongly in episode 3 when we see them interacting together without Dean there to cause conflict, so it will be interesting if we get to delve more into Sam’s past and trauma this season, as it’s about time the show focused on his issues around Lucifer.

Clark as the exposition for Cas’s return... among other things

I could talk for hours about Jack and everything he stands for, but right now I just need to add this about Clark, because boy did he pull focus. In an episode so heavy with grief and full of reminders of Castiel as well as establishing Jack into the audiences mind, Clark comes out of no where and almost steals the show (almost).

When we are introduced to Clark only 5 minutes into the episode, he is mucking around with the menu changing every item into something ‘butt’ related. I could meta on this but tbh its so very on the nose that I don’t think it’s needed. You all know exactly what Burgers and Butts are making us think of. Its juvenile but its hilarious (my personal favourite is the salty butt combo - a bit of salt is a good thing especially in destiel fandom!).

So skipping past those obvious jokes, what interests me most about Clark is this:

“He’s fired me like seven times... and I keep coming back.”

Look at this face! Dark hair, Blue eyes, extremely charming? Hello Cas mirror!

also:

4x22 - Killed by Raphael

5x22 - Killed by Lucifer

7x01 - Killed by returning the souls (Dean thought he was dead before he healed himself)

7x02 - Killed by Leviathan

8x02 - Left for dead in Purgatory

9x03 - Killed by April

12x23 - Killed by Lucifer

At this point in the show, Dean has watched Cas “die” seven times. I don’t think the above was an accident.

The fact that Clark then says “Around here, I’m untouchable” is kind of hilarious. Since Clark later gets stabbed with an angel blade - AND SURVIVES.

However for the rest of the episode, Clark is so much more of a Dean mirror, to Jack’s Cas mirror. Clark shows Jack his humanity. He makes Jack happy enough for his powers to make the lights flicker (honestly if this doesn’t make the whole grace orgasm blowing out the lights head canon real I don’t know what does). He feeds him candy, jokes around with him, and is generally such a playful and charming character that we can’t quite help but associate him with Dean.

I love how Clark’s mum the Sheriff tells the police officer that “There’s no such thing as weird, everyone is normal in their own way” because isn’t that just a massive shout out to anyone who is slightly ‘different’? All of us who identify with this show about the ‘weird’ things because we are a little bit weird ourselves? Whose to say what is normal and whats not?

What I love about this line is that it backs up my claim that the show is trying to prepare the audience in a way for things they may not expect... especially the part of the audience that watches for macho men, guns and death - the Republicans, the dudebros, the right wingers, the assholes who think that to fit in in this world you have to fit into some idealistic little box. Well, believe me this show has a few surprises in line for those people. I can’t wait for it to all come to a head.

Team Free Will

Ultimately, what 13x01 has shown us is that Jack is a combination of ALL of team free will. He is his own person of course, but he shares elements and traits with all of them. I think it’s so fitting that so soon after Dean’s memorable speech to Cas in 12x19:

“You, Me, and Sam, We’re just better together. So now that you’re back, lets go Team Free Will”

In which Dean brought this term back for the first time in canon since it was used in 5x13, do we now have a character who is the embodiment of all three of them. For me, it seems that this was intentional and that Dean’s words really were the truth - that once Cas comes back, all three of them will be able to save Jack from himself, along with any other nastiness that comes their way. It is my absolute belief that the moral of season 13 will be that Dean, Sam and Cas need each other, and need to work together in order to defeat whatever evil comes their way. Jack is proof of that. How he mirrors all three of them, and is at this point in time, internally divided:

He has Cas’s innocence, naivety and endearing curious nature, as well as his angelic power.

He has Dean’s humanity, his desire to be good, and a need to reach out to people and bond with them.

He has Sam’s inner darkness, linked to his emotions and leading him to question his own monstrous nature. His struggle between his own inner good and evil.

When these three sides of him conflict, it will cause problems. Just like how conflict between Dean, Sam and Cas is usually the primary cause of disaster in the supernatural universe. Jack’s fate, and his ability to control himself and his opposing sides, is intrinsically tied to Team Free Will themselves coming together and actually working as a team once again.

And I bloody well can’t wait to watch this story play out.

#supernatural #spn meta #jack the nephilim #nougat winchester #episode review #13x01 #season 13 #spn spoilers #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #destiel #mirrors and parallels

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itshanni3 · 7 years

Text

H!P 20th Anniversary “Shuffles”

Hi readers~

I posted my shortened comments on my profile on Facebook, but I thought I’d go more in depth on my opinion on the way H!P has started out celebrating their 20th anniversary.

First off, isn’t it insane that Hello! Project is almost 20??

Before I get into the changes and upcoming member debuts, I wanted to talk about my initial thoughts on both surprises before we knew where anyone was going.

My goals were to see the following happen:

1. New group with the 3 kenshuusei debuting, as well as with another 2-4 others. Icchan as leader, and I wanted to see both “tinies” debut together in this (Kirara and Momohime).

2. If the CG members staying permanently couldn’t be added to that group also, I wanted to see YanaFuna remain together, with Chisaki in MM or even Tsubaki. YanaFuna I had pegged for ANGERME or, if nothing else, one of the Factories (despite me not wanting them for Kobushi).

3. If the new group wasn’t happening, I needed 2 of the kenshuusei to go to Juice=Juice, as I truly feel Yuka and Tomoko are reaching the end of their idol careers (due to age) in upcoming years, and I don’t think Sayubee, Karin and Aarii are strong enough to stand on their own as a trio (coming from someone who is a fan of Sayubee and Karin, for those wondering). The kenshuusei were good ages to join, since Ayano is nearing 18, Ruru is 16, and Icchan is 18, putting them just a little short of Karin and Aarii at 18 (19 in December). It would’ve also been ironic since it was the first group after S/mileage to form from only Kenshuusei. Since S/mileage has become ANGERME and is more than Kenshuusei, it seemed fitting for me personally.

4. Please do not add more than 1 to MM or the Factories. They’re all getting too big. I know Duu is leaving MM and I’m sensing another member leaving soon, too, but they’re already at 13. Even with two graduations, that’s 11 members!! ANGERME is another group I sense hitting graduations soon. Ayacho has said she plans to stay until at least 25, which only leaves a little over 2 years. Kanana has reached 20 with both Take and Rina at 19. I could see Take sticking around but I’m not expecting the other three to stay more than 2-3 years most. (Don’t get me wrong, I’d love Ayacho to stay forever, but the girl has a degree and is working on her Masters, from what I understand, so...) Then, of course, there’s both Maho and Masaki having various issues. While I’d like to think Maho will return, as I really like 3rd gen as a trio, I’m not holding my breath at this point, much like when Manakan went on hiatus for a while. Masaki couldn’t even make it through the latest Budoukan without having to leave and take a break. Whether it was for her voice or her back, if these health issues don’t get better, she really needs to take a complete break, pull a Yamakki/Ozeki with being a seasonal member or find a different place in H!P where she isn’t going to keep hurting her back. Her condition is one that will likely never go away--it may become easier to live with over time, but not if she keeps pushing it like this. (Sorry Masaki fans, but it’s the truth about herniated disks.)

Now that we know where they are all going, I’m left with the biggest thought, “Why did H!P disband, essentially, Country Girls to make a brand new group with only one of the 6 moving/debuting in it?” I’m seriously just confused now. It seems to me like management just genuinely hated Country Girls at this point.

I know their sales haven’t been amazing but they aren’t that that far off from the Factories, who debuted/were created around the same time (Country Girls averages 38k, Tsubaki had 40k on their debut and Kobushi averages at 44k). Granted, yes, Country Girls had Momoko, but Kobushi had a number of popular kenshuusei and Tsubaki had at least all faces of people H!P Kenshuusei fans knew. Country Girls had two kenshuusei join at first, but both were only members for a year and a half, so I kind of consider them to be on the same level as Kobushi when they debuted, if not even a little lower. Momo is only one person, and was most definitely not the focus in their debut.

So I’m honestly left with the big question as to why on Earth they disbanded a perfectly capable group that they could’ve made stronger. Instead, they decided to “mix things up.” Okay AKB. Also note, I’m a fan of AKB, but I was never a fan of shuffling members between teams. Seeing Mayuyu get pulled from Team B was not my favorite moment!

Here we have it: Chisaki made it to MM, which was her initial goal when she auditioned for Hello! Project. Ruru and YANAMIN got tossed into Juice=Juice. I think Yanamin was genuinely as confused as I was watching it unfold. And then we’ve got Funakki and Ayano in ANGERME.

What do I like? I like Chisaki for MM. I like Funakki for ANGERME.

What do I not like? The Juice=Juice choices. Ruru joining with Yanamin feels really unbalanced and, frankly, awkward. Not that they can’t handle the group--it just looks and feels very weird adding that duo. Adding Ayano to ANGERME just felt really random. Again, it’s not that she can’t excel in the group--she most definitely can. But adding an ace type to a group with multiple aces already? I don’t know--that solidifies my “someone is graduating soon” theory, though. And Icchan getting a brand new group. Am I thrilled for her? Absolutely! But it goes back to the, “Why disband Country Girls?” If it was a finances thing, it certainly costs more to start up a new group than work with one existing already. They’ll have to work on branding, getting a solid team together and they’ll have to start from scratch with yet another discography (without Tsunku).

With Tsunku, I fully trust adding new groups. (Though, I’d still honestly be unhappy with the choice to basically make CG a Buono! to turn around and make a new group.) He had the talent to keep them all moving smoothly with releases.

Currently, we’re lucky to get more than 2 singles a year. And what’s an album? I’ve forgotten, since we haven’t seen one outside of Kobushi’s in a few years. They’ve also been stacking singles on top of each other, which is making it even more weird to me, personally. If you’re only releasing 2 singles per year and you only have (with CG gone/seasonal) 5 groups, you could release on a month and still have two months without anything. Instead, we have singles being released within just a week of each other. Maybe they’re trying to work around AKB. Maybe it’s bad communication or management. I don’t know, but it’s just bizarre.

I guess this all boils down to me being happy that Funakki seems happy (lord knows ANGERME is a bunch of weirdos so they’re happy pretty much always with anything--bless my oshi group). Chisaki...seems concerned. She’s very much a Riho/shy type. So I’m expecting her to need time to warm up to a new group of people. Thankfully, she knows most of them decently well. Ayano will be fine, though I’m concerned she’s going to disappear immediately to the back, which she is way too good for, in my opinion. I just don’t understand the Juice=Juice choices. I feel horrible for Yanamin. She did not seem happy at all.

But! It seems highly likely to me that these girls found out within days of their decision where they would be going. More than likely, like in typical H!P fashion, only the leaders of the groups even knew this was happening until the official announcement. I’m certain Juice=Juice did not think they had anyone coming, nor did Morning Musume. Karin’s post welcomed new members after the announcement, but I don’t think they actually expected it. ANGERME is like a constant party, so they were probably hoping to take at least one of them in. Judging by the footage we have, Funakki is wearing the same outfit she wore seeing MM’s show as she was finding out she was joining ANGERME, which was June 7th (we were told the announcement on the 9th). It looks like they told the other members a few days after. ANGERME had a release event on the 10th and also on the 19th. I’m guessing they were told on one of those days, which had to be incredibly shocking. It could’ve also been on the 8th, as Juice=Juice would’ve been in Kagoshima on the 10th. (Aka across the country from Tokyo.)

In general, am I thrilled with this? No. I’m most definitely going to have to quit collecting Yanamin--at least Juice=Juice stuff. It’s very difficult to get collectors for the other members to split photo sets, and I get enough of those leftover photos from collecting ANGERME and Tsubaki Factory. Unfortunately, I just can’t afford that. Do I still adore her? Absolutely! I will 100% buy anything I can afford that’s just her or that is Country Girls Yanamin. But I’m definitely quite sad she wasn’t put into a more fitting group in my mind. Everyone will do fine in their groups after adjusting. Chisaki will thrive being in a dance heavy group. Ayumin may end up with a new dance rival, which I think she’d love. And Funakki’s weirdness belongs very much in ANGERME.

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future-rp · 5 years

Photo

siren’s main dance, lead vocal & center dahye

dingbat group; acting, hosting 20 vocal / 00 rap / 30 dance

it begins like this: rhee minji is born first but raised second, forever unable to step out of her younger sister’s towering shadow.

it’s not fair. she doesn’t understand why minyoung is relegated to the favorite when she’s just as good as she is. it’s not like her sister has any particular talents yet she remains the apple of her parent’s eyes.

she believes that it’ll change, hopes however foolishly that once they both get older they’ll see that she’s worthy of affection. she’s still young, unable to comprehend the cruelty that is being unwanted by those who should cherish her the most. but the fact of the matter is some children are just accidents, unwanted from the very start and some parents never learn how to love them.

yet that belief holds, at least until she turns ten and she realizes that it’ll never come true.

she’ll never be the favorite. she’s barely acknowledged as is.

the bitterness festers in her like a disease.

ii.

minyoung wants to be a star and everything she wants she gets.

all that means is that minji is now forced to go with her to dancing and singing lessons after her mother yells at her, telling her that “she’s too young to go by herself. can’t you just be a good older sister for once?” so she grits her teeth and goes, fueled by the thought that maybe this time she’ll finally get some attention.

two weeks into their lessons, they discover an important fact: minji is fucking talented.

it wouldn’t mean much to her if it weren’t for the fact that minyoung isn’t.

that discovery fills her up with some sort of sick satisfaction. suddenly, she’s the one who looks forward to attending lessons while her sister sticks with it only out of stubborn pride and misplaced hope.

every session her voice grows stronger and her dancing becomes more fluid while her sister is left floundering.

rhee minji finally has something she can hold over her younger sister and she’s glowing. she was always greedy for everything that minyoung had.

now if only it meant anything to her parents.

the bitterness stays. but there’s greed now too.

iii.

they audition for atom entertainment together.

she knows its a bad idea the second it comes out of her sister’s mouth but she’s learned to keep her mouth shut when it comes to her. what minyoung wants, minyoung gets. her parents always make sure of that.

so they go and minji realizes just how right she is when minyoung exits the audition room crying her eyes out, talking about how her voice cracked and she kept forgetting the lyrics to the song. if she was a better sister she would’ve been sympathetic, would’ve tried to console her.

but she’s not.

instead she feels happiness.

when minji steps into the room, she lets that happiness fuel her. it doesn’t matter that she doesn’t want this. becoming an idol was always minyoung’s dream but minji is cruel. she wants what her sister has. and if she can’t make it through the audition process then minji must, if only to steal the golden child’s dream right out from under her.

she opens her mouth and it’s the best she’s ever sounded. she dances and it’s like she’s walking on air.

minji gets in. minyoung doesn’t.

iv.

it takes a while for her to realize but training is a blessing in disguise.

being away from her family and the shadow of her sister allows her to blossom as rhee minji. within these walls, there’s no one who knows about rhee minyoung, no one who can ever compare the two of them.

so she makes a name for herself among the trainees. she doesn’t hesitate to show off her dancing skills while also taking care to make friends with her peers. she paints herself as a bright and kind girl that she’s always believed she could be if it weren’t for how she was raised and people believe it.

it’s enough to make her endure the long hours, sleepless nights, and relentless yelling. it’s a rude awakening to learn that she might not be as talented as she once thought when her only source of comparison was minyoung. she forces herself to endure the cutting criticisms from trainers because it’s still attention given to her at the end of the day. she practices night and day to improve her singing so she’ll finally be given the compliments she’s so desperate to get. she learns what everyone wants from her and molds herself into that image.

she emerges out the other side a polished diamond.

atom entertainment dissolves but before she can even wonder what to do next, she’s offered a spot within the new company and minji takes it without a second thought. after all, she would rather die than return home with nothing to show for her efforts and be relegated back to second place.

after another year of relentless training and preparation, she debuts as siren’s dahye.

dahye is minji without all the baggage, what she could have been if life turned out a little differently. she’s soft and sweet, all honey and peaches. a rose with all its thorns cut. a tender thing that’s soft to the touch. dahye is desirable in a seemingly attainable way even though it’s so clear that she’s out of everyone’s league.

which is to say dahye isn’t real. but maybe minji isn’t either.

vi.

they’re a success and minji learns what it is to be loved.

it’s a strange feeling. it’s strange being wanted for once but minji discovers she likes it, craves it actually.

she adores the screaming fans, the endless amount of love she receives from strangers, the money that she eventually receives from the company. it makes up for the never-ending schedules and the bone deep exhaustion that has quickly settled into her body. it makes up for the fact that idol life is hard, a fact that minji learns that so quickly.

but she wants the love and she needs the attention so she learns to deal with everything that comes with it.

idol life is truly just an exercise in what rhee minji will excuse and suffer through in order to fill that void within her.

vii.

it’s all going well until it’s not.

members start leaving, citing the lack of payment and the rigorous schedules. minji tries to sympathize, tries to understand their reasonings but she just can’t. she just can’t seem to grasp why they don’t have it in them to endure everything and continue on just for the promise of continued success. minji doesn’t want to call them weak because she knows that it’s unfair but she does anyways.

after that it’s quiet for a while.

minji learns not to speak about it, learns how to pivot the conversation away to something else if it gets brought up on variety shows. dingbat allows her to get into acting, more willing to acquiesce to her requests considering the current state of their group. she picks up a few cameo roles here and there before slowly working her way up to minor and supporting roles. minji isn’t willing to give any of the antis the satisfaction of saying she bought her way into those roles.

then it’s not so quiet anymore.

a new addition. an unwanted addition. minji doesn’t see the necessity of a new member, not when they’ve already gone through three years without them. so what if two members left? that just meant more lines and screen time for the rest of them but now she needs to compete against someone new? if they were good enough to be in the group, they would’ve been included in the lineup originally.

minji tries not to be bitter but she fails.

she tries not to let the backlash against the newcomer fill her with joy but she fails.

viii.

things slowly revert back to normality.

siren maintains consistent comebacks despite all the controversy surrounding the member situation so minji learns to swallow down her bitterness and soldier on. no one wants rhee minji anyways, they all want siren’s dahye and she’s happy to give the people what they want.

well, for now, anyways.

the whispers of her being undedicated to group start springing up when she starts picking up hosting jobs on top of her acting roles in order to further cement her place within the industry. those accusations aren’t wrong though. it’s just that minji thought she was a good enough actress that no one else could see through it. it’s not her fault that her other jobs give her more joy than idol life.

after all, this was never her dream.

ix.

another one bites of dust.

minji doesn’t even try to ask why or convince them to stay. if they want to leave because they want a normal life then they can. not everyone dreams of living life in the spotlight forever. she can’t understand why but she learns to be more sympathetic this time around.

she’s tired these days too, but in a different way. she’s tired of all the constant activities to keep siren’s name relevant to the public. she’s tired of the oversaturation of the idol market leading to the necessity of constant promotions. she’s tired of the dream she had stolen from her sister.

she just wants to act. she just wants to host. she just wants all the fame and attention that doesn’t involve constant upkeep to maintain.

minji’s not stupid. she knows that the end is near. it has to be.

maybe she wants it to be.

siren is falling apart. with three members gone in three years, a year long hiatus, and a group of fresh-faced juniors waiting in the wings, there’s no way they won’t be put on the back burner before being replaced altogether.

sure, maybe she should’ve left as soon as she saw all the warning signs but back then, siren was still a vehicle for her desires. now though? minji’s not so sure.

siren’s dahye might be in a precarious place but rhee minji is going to do just fine. she’s made sure of it, spent years building a successful acting career to transition into if her group ever fell apart. she has a whole future to look forward to in which her star will remain shining bright even after siren’s has dimmed.

(in the back of her there’s doubt, tiny little reminders of how ephemeral everything in the industry is but rhee minji didn’t put a million contingency plans in place just to fail.)

spite has carried her far, but greed will carry her further.

#ft. accepted #ft. siren bio

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