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a1li-ens · 4 months

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OK TESTING POSTING WRITING HERE... IM VERY EMBARRASSED BUT ILL TRY NOT TO IMMEDIATELY DELETE THIS (´>ω<;)

I wrote pwp of my ocs Abel and Micah on my phone on a long flight in a fugue state. idk if its good. read it and find out???? its them fucking with Abel in his nun outfit idk what to tell you (18+)

(not a scene in canon so doesn't have spoilers really I think. is it a spoiler my OC would date a canon love interest in a romance game.)

under the cut! around 2k words

Characters if you don't know my OCs by now. Info is on here: https://toyhou.se/alli_ens/characters

Abel- human nun guy

Micah- Angel guy

pardon if the formatting is fucked I was braindead writing this !

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m” Abel, I’m not sure if I really want to bring this up, but you were a nun, weren’t you?”

a” hm? Yeah, I was. What about it?”

m” Not long after we met, you told me you would show me your “little nun outfit”. I'm somewhat curious.”

a”Oh, have you been thinking about it the whole time? Sure, I’ll go put it on."

m”ah, alright."

(Abel steps out to change. Even though it’s a simple costume, it still takes him twice as long as anyone else would. Micah doesn’t know what convinced him to ask to see in the first place, but now the suspense is bothering him)

a”Ready! Well, what do you think?”

( Abel is dressed in the full outfit, the long dress and habit. Of course, he's added heels to the ensemble. Though he's fully covered, something about the way the long, black skirt clinging to his form- is getting to Micah. He’d never once considered the outfit attractive on anyone else, but on Abel, he’s spellbound.)

m”ah, oddly, it suits you. Though, I feel like I shouldn’t be allowed to see this, somehow."

a”hoho, does that excite you?"

m”...I can’t say it doesn’t."

a” Is blasphemy even possible for you?"

m” (getting increasingly flustered) Not like this. At least, I think so. Perhaps it’s just offensive to those who pray to us? Ah. It's a strange feeling. "

a” hmhm, interesting. Are you going to confess to God after this?"

m”...I think I will. "

a”Great! Let's give you more to tell him about. "

(Abel gracefully kneels in front of Micah, neatly tucking the fabric of his skirt beneath him. With an all too charming smile, He clasps his bare, scarred hands together in prayer, looking up at Micah from the ground.

Abel starts some kind of prayer. Micah considers himself a great listener, but in this case, it’s proving too difficult. If he were to be honest, he’d admit to having no idea what Abel was saying. He’s probably saying something obscene. His mind is far too occupied with the image of Abel gazing up at him with even feigned reverence to even consider his words. )

a”....And finally, I thank you, Holy Father, for delivering unto me my absolutely hopeless boyfriend, who hasn’t listened to a word I’ve said. Amen”

m”oh, I was listening, really.”

a”Suuuuuuuuuuure. Apologize to God for lying as well when you talk to him. From this angle, I can see you’re a bit preoccupied~" (He reaches out and pokes Micah’s raging erection through his pants)

m”Abel, you’re toying with me. "

a” Not as much as I could be! Stay where you are. "

(Micah is perplexed for a moment, before Abel leans up slightly and unzips Micah’s fly with his teeth. Freeing Micah’s cock, Abel swiftly takes it into his mouth, his lips still in a smile. The scene was tempting enough before, but now, Micah can barely take it. It looks as though Abel is worshiping his body in place of god, Ah, it’s intoxicating.

While it’s nothing especially out of the ordinary for him, Abel can’t help the arousal from acting disgraceful in a nun outfit, especially with a hopelessly pious man like Micah. And seeing him so into it as well, like he’s corrupted him, an accomplice in blasphemy! It’s just too much fun. Making sure Micah can see, Abel bunches up his skirt around his waist, stroking his own cock as he sucks Micah’s. If it’s a show he wants, that’s what he’ll get. )

m”Ah- ah, Abel- It’s coming, please, don’t stop, ah-"

(Micah thrusts into Abel’s throat roughly, still watching Abel, frenzied as he watches his cock disappear into his mouth. Abel takes him to the hilt, moaning and gasping around him, pushing Micah over the edge, coming hard into Abel’s mouth loud and shameless.

Pulling away, Abel licks his tip, drinking up all of it. looking delighted, smiling at Micah with flushed cheeks, Micah thinks Abel looks beautiful. )

m”Ah, haah.. Thank you, that’s always incredible."

a” I bet it is. Enjoy the show?"

m”I did. whatever that says about me. "

a”hmhm, I like that. "

m” …Do you want me to return the favor?”

a”Oh? Yes, but I don’t think the nun outfit is your size or anything. "

m”I meant the sexual favor. not the outfit. "

a” Ooh. right. I’ll take that too! Haha, kneel down like I did then. "

( Abel stands as Micah hesitantly kneels before him. Still dizzy from pleasure, Micah fumbles with getting Abel's skirt out of the way, until Abel pulls up the hem like a curtsy, showing off his still hard cock. )

M” aah. I have no experience with this, so go easy on me. "

A” can I translate that as ‘wowww, you're so huge that I'm going to have trouble fitting it in my mouth’?"

M” no, you may not. "

(Micah, still hesitating and red in the face like he has a fever, first licks the tip. It's warm on his tongue. He tries licking down the shaft, getting used to it being so close to him. Looking down at Micah licking it so hesitantly, with his brows furrowed in concentration, Abel's having a bit too much fun. Gently but still suddenly, Abel thrusts his hips towards Micah, making it enter his mouth, muffling some kind of complaint from him. So cute.

Micah, once used to the size of it in his mouth (albeit quicker than he intended) tries to slowly take Abel deeper. He always deepthroats his so easily, surely it can't be that difficult?

It was, in fact, difficult. Micah has to release him to take a breath, gasping from his gag reflex. If it was anyone else doing it, this would have been in Abel's top 10 worst blowjobs he'd received, but the fact it's someone as uptight and inexperienced as Micah- who's working so hard to please him, means it's even more exciting like this. )

A- "careful, you have to work up to that, obviously. Suck it harder, you won't hurt me."

(Micah, with his pride wounded, tries sucking, holding the base of Abel’s cock to stop himself taking too much in. Finally, it's feeling good instead of being slowly torturous.

Precum starts forming at the tip. Wait. What? Why is he so bitter and salty? It's weird. He doesn't really enjoy the taste. In fact,he expected something better.Micah releases him, looking confused.)

M” Abel. Why is the taste so bitter, are you cursed there, too?”

(Abel can't help laughing uncontrollably)

A” that's normal for humans! God, only angels have sugary nectar or whatever coming out! Since ours actually has a biological purpose.Back to it. "

( Micah looks up with a puzzled, embarrassed expression, and resumes. Getting used to the bitter,salty taste, it's actually kind of addictive. Abel's got nothing sweet about him anyway, so this makes sense, regardless of the culture shock. Sucking harder and taking him a bit deeper, Abel starts moaning softly, and throbbing within Micah’s mouth. )

A” aaah, Micah- I'm close, stop if you don't want a facial, haah-"

(Micah doesn't stop, he wants it. He keeps going until Abel's further losing himself to the pleasure)

A” Micah! Really I mean it, aaahhh, you can stop - I'm coming, come on, aah,hah!"

( Micah stays put, he wants to see this through. Abels fingers tangle in the back of Micah's hair as he climaxes, moaning and panting roughly. Even with the warning, Abel's cum fills Micah's mouth a lot more deeply than he expected, the overwhelming taste sinking into his brain. In this sole moment, Micah understands what incubi are after. Unsure what else to do,Micah swallows with Abel still in his mouth, wincing slightly at the intensity of it. Releasing Abel, he licks his lips to not make a mess, and looks up at him, trying to gauge his reaction. Oh. He never looks this red.)

A "Micah?? Aaah. You. You swallowed it. Haha.. "

M( with a more hoarse voice than he expected)" is that not alright?"

A "it's alright but- hahahh. It's really slutty.. you're really slutty to swallow on your first time. Aaahhh. God."

M"you really have to stop saying that about me, haah... I'll swallow it next time too, if it gets you flustered like this. "

A"you're going to kill me at this rate. And here I thought I could see your pretty little face dripping with cum, so sad."

M” Ah, I'd really rather swallow it than that."

A” you don't see why I'd like to see it? You don't enjoy seeing yours dripping off my face? "

M” fine, I understand where you're coming from. "

A” you admit it!”

(Abel kneels back on the floor with Micah, both of them breathing heavily. Wordlessly, Abel cups his hand around Micah’s cheek, looking into his eyes. It's not often Abel gets like this, Micah can only assume it's some sense of him being loving or bashful, but he could never be sure if that was the truth, or just wishful thinking. Whatever it was, he's really cute acting like this. Times like this remind Micah why he is so hopelessly in love with him. Micah kisses him sweetly, he can't help it)

A” mmn, what?"

M” nothing, I just wanted to."

A” oh, here I thought you were going to ask for another round, haha."

M” I wasn't. ( he buries his face in the small of Abel’s neck.) I guess I'm not opposed to more, though."

A”hah, you never really get tired, do you? Fine by me. You can call the shots tonight."

M” ah, alright. Stay as you are."

(Micah kisses Abel while pushing him down to the ground by the shoulders. He didn't want to wait to move to the bed. Still kissing passionately, Micah’s hands travel across Abel’s clothed body, loosening his familiar collar, kissing beneath it hungrily. It would be a shame to take the outfit off though, he thinks. Unfastening it at the front, he leaves it on, instead pulling the hem of the skirt up around Abel’s thighs. )

A” heh, you really do like the dress, don't you? "

M” yes, since you're the one wearing it."

( Abel has no answer to that.

Micah pushes Abel’s legs open, fingering him with two fingers from the get-go, scissoring them open. Abel whines and gasps, his lithe body trembling, the dress cascading around his exposed cock. Abel wants to rile Micah up a bit more.)

A” aahh- no- I'm a servant of God, aa~hn, I mustn't! What if the other sisters find out? "

( Micah stops moving briefly, but understands what Abel is aiming for.)

M "God isn't watching, we're all alone.( he pauses, before shoving Abel’s thighs apart further and lining up his cock) and He can't stop me."

A '' then, haah, O Father, forgive me! Forgiv- HaaAah! "

( Micah thrusts into Abel, slamming him into the ground with each movement. Groping at his cool skin beneath the folds of his skirt, he can't get enough of him. Taking the waist tie from the dress, Micah stops briefly and binds Abel's wrists together above his head, the unfastened fabric falling off his body, framing it.

Against the floor and under Micah’s control, Abel feels incredible. Swinging his legs around Micah’s waist to pull him into him deeper, bringing his bound hands around Micah's neck. Trying to kiss him, yet moaning too much to do it properly.)

M” (whispering into Abel’s ear) you belong to me now, not to the God you have forsaken. You're all mine. "

( his words go straight to Abel’s dick, now about to come)

A” aahh-ahh, Micah- Ah!"

M” Abel.. haah, come with me, now."

( Thrusting hard into Abel as he comes, Micah moans into his shoulder, sinking his teeth in, hard enough to draw blood. Funny, that tastes strange, too. Licking it up, Micah pumps Abel's cock as he comes, triggering release for both of them. Thrashing around, Abel manages to free his wrists, throwing his arms around Micah's shoulders, passionately kissing him amongst moans and gasps. Filling up with a sweet warmth, tremors shake through Abel’s body, coming onto Micah’s stomach, and the fabric of his dress. )

(The two collapse side by side on the ground, their labored breathing seeming to echo through the apartment. Rolling to face him, Micah kisses Abel softly. )

M”you know I would rather make love to you than the characters you make up, right?

A” shut up, you were really into that. "

M” haah, maybe.”

A” well, we're not going again. ( he winces, moving his body) That floor hurt you know! "

M” since when has pain actually bothered you?"

A” touchē. Whatever, be good and carry me to the bed, will you?"

M” of course. "

( Micah scoops up Abel gently and carries him. Micah places him on the bed, moving his fringe aside to kiss him softly, then turning- before Abel grabs his wrist to stop him leaving. )

A” wherever you’re going… it can wait. I want you here. "

(Micah can barely believe his ears, so he silently obliges, getting under the covers. Abel turns and holds him, his face buried into his chest)

M” I love you too, Abel."

A” fuck off. Go to sleep. "

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THANK YOU FOR READING... PLS TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK... UNLESS YOU THINK ITS CRINGE... BECAUSE IM NEW TO WRITING OF COURSE IT IS CRINGE !! IM FREE !!! BUT TELL ME ANYTHING ELSE 💖

#writing #ocs #abel oc #micah oc #IDK HOW TO WRITE IM TRYING SO HARD GUYS #i have another fic that i dont think im brave enough to post. a micah uke fic for fun. imagine that in ur brain until i am more brave

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drawnaghht · 1 year

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Gonna be honest, aside from fandom events/celebrations I'm prob not gonna be very active here again, on account of busy-in-general but also, my side-accounts are still always more art-oriented.... I like to post my own arts hehe x3 so I guess I'm writing abt this as a gentle reminder to myself that it's alright to not be active & how much I really enjoy posting my own work when possible.

some more thoughts on this under cut! the blog will stay mostly usagi chronicles related with reblogs related to other usagi stuff and tmnt but I will try to keep it to my own art as I originally intended.

right now I've also been obsessing again over the Tintin fancomics and animations by @/professorcalculusstanaccount (not gonna tag them bc this is not directly related) and their work (+ just ruminating on my own old stuff) has been inspiring me enough that I'm thinking of returning to my og comics again. just in a... very subtle way. i don't like drawing attention to myself as much(as much as I should at least) and I wanna take a lot of babysteps to get back to building those up again.

for my SRTUC/TMNT2003&ROTTMNT crossover fic, I am thinking now that I want to take a similar approach in that it is mostly images, some larger text. bc I realized I do not actually enjoy writing long spans of prose. like. I enjoy making comics bc I am more used to those, but also, I am imagining things much more visually so it is hard for me to put some of these into text form at all times. I think that's why I probably haven't written this fic properly or finished any of my old fic. So a pretty normal "I explain my fic/AU idea" post, but I would like to try it in a concentrated way. I dunno how I would format this crossover on AO3 for example, but here in tumblr I could put them neatly under a cut and write away. It would be cool if I had the energy for animations/comics too bc those, while taking more time than writing, are far more enjoyable on the whole to make (but again, I am much more used to them)

I also want to explore more of a genfic (general "genre" fanfic) look at crossovers. As much as I like the Yuinardo/Leochi (Yuichi x Leo) ship, I also really enjoy exploring more unusual dynamics and situations in fanfic haha x3

my health's been slowly declining this week again and i haven't noticed next to work so I'll try to keep phone and personal internet time to a minimum now. sjdnddj i also just haven't had the energy for new art in general, so I'm basically going into spring hibernation until the next big spike in free time.

but hey! things I look forward to posting about more are some of the short comic thumbs I've been doing! I've fanart mostly for usagi chronicles right now but I'm also probably gonna post other short sketches I've done on my regular fandom art/ sketchblog, @aghhtdraws . There's a Chi/Ki (Chizu x Kitsune) doodle post I wanted to do and also a few other Usagi sketches I wanted to post.

I also like to write analysis of shows I like often enough, but writing is usually very taxing for me if it gets too long so I try to avoid it unless I have a very strong idea. Wait... have I been writing essays this entire time??? x3

I'll still tag those as #analysis bc that makes sense for me as a short tag and I don't really keep to an essay format as much, but yeah, you can block that or #aghhtposts if u don't wanna see those xP

i tag things more for my own convenience, but that is also very useful for tag blocking! (so glad xKit still works 10 years after it broke or smth)

oh! and I also wanted to post some screenshots/links from insta. both Stan and some of the crew have been posting new posts about SRTUC which have been a delight to see. ahhh im so glad the show exists and the crew seem to have a lot of good memories about it.

#aghhtposts #ahh why isthis update post so long x3 #not tagging w anything else bc it is mostly bt this blpog #drawnaghht #tumblr new code for adding tags is weirding me out so tags are gonna take me a while to write now huh #texty #long post

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sanstropfremir · 3 years

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the hotly anticipated kingdom episode 7 review is here!!

this episode was a lot less spectacle-y than the last one (the last episode with stages, i mean), and i think that was a good choice for all the groups on the whole to tone it down on the run up to the finale, because at the rate everyone was headed there would be no room to go any higher. i'm very glad that there was actually a collab stage and not just a song swap, especially because it gives a chance for the boys to work together and make friends when they otherwise arent going to be able to interact much. love love love to see them making friends and having fun doing these stages!

i'm not really sure why mnet didnt put the vocal stage this episode, because what on earth else are they going to put in the next episode with it??? i know it's a content stretch but still, it seems like a weird choice to me. anyways, there’s four stages for me to talk about this time and i'm going to try to not ramble out of control, but we’ll see. i did enjoy watching all of these, but we’ve all got favourites and i'm going to rank by which group i liked better out of the two for each stage, and then i put a few conclusions at the end. strap in folks this is another long one.

rap stages

skz + btob + atz

i was actually really surprised at how much i liked this stage. i would not classify myself as a rap fan and believe it or not i actually do not place a lot of importance on lyrics when enjoying music. although i have very high lyric retention and comprehension, i focus more on the sound than the literal words, so a fair amount of rap is swing-and-a-miss in my personal listening. plus when you add a language barrier on top of that, a lot of the nuance and technical skill of it just flies over my head. so i really dont have much to say about the sonic elements this time around, sorry. also.....i know i joked that nobody from the kingdom staff is reading my reviews.....but is someone from the kingdom staff reading my reviews????? i specifically mentioned that i think skz should do an art themed stage and then we got one????? i know i manifested the punk ateez stage but did i manifest this also??? am i just that powerful???

costume

obviously these are pretty basic rap/hiphop stage looks, but the white was a really good choice for visibility’s sake, and also thematically: it reflects the colours in the lighting really well.

i am DYING to know who the designer of minhyuks jacket is. if somebody knows please tell me i love it so much. it looks like some of the recent belted jackets that dior was putting out, but the drawing on the front armscythe piece reminds me of the superm/kim junggi collab for tiger inside. say whatever you want about superm, but you cannot deny that that is not some of the coolest merch on the kpop scene.

loved the traditional korean elements that came through in addition to the western references: the screens, hongjoong’s fan, minhyuk’s big fuckoff brush, the masks, and the sleeves on the dancers at minhyuk’s bit. those are a costume feature from a style of korean traditional masked dance called bongsan talchum. the masks themselves are versions of hahoetal masks, which are used in a very specific archetypal ritual dance in andong. i think these are imae masks, who is the servant/fool archetype that mocks the nobleman and the scholar. i suspect that was a deliberate choice, but i can only speculate.

another point about the masks which is not relevant but maybe a fun fact for people who don’t know. i actually thought at first that they were western theatre half masks, which are a very old style of mask that, like with hahoetal masks, represent a number of archetypes/stock characters. maskwork is a very common training practice in theatre schools, because it teaches body language and control, because half your face is covered and you cannot speak in your own voice (sometimes you cannot speak at all, this is one of the rules of full mask). the tradition of usings masks to portray emotion goes all the way back to the ancient greek chorus, but more commonly people in the west sometimes know it from the italian commedia dell’arte, of which you will have definitely seen some of the character archetypes before. i just find it neat that the same types of art pop up in different places seemingly independently of each other. humans are cool.

set

not much to say here, it's pretty bare with just some propwork. thought the screen use was fun and they used it smartly in a couple of transitions.

thought changbin’s bit of ‘interrupting’ the artists was cute and fun. there’s obviously a picasso reference there, and the four technicolour paintings are a reference to andy warhol’s pop art silkscreen portraits, most famously of marilyn monroe, but he also did many other celebrities in the 70s and 80s.

lighting

i LOVED this lighting. super bright and fun, lots of use of colour, obviously. the projections were there to enhance the visuals and weren’t distracting in any way. i thought the transition to black and white/ink with minhyuk was smart and had good contrast, it gave a strong rhythm to build back up to for the climax.

sound

bang chan’s ‘spelling colour with a u’ bit had me SCREAMING with laughter. we spell colour with a u normally bang chan, the americans are the ones that are wrong.

staging

i don’t really have a whole lot to say here, it was pretty straightforward and fun. like i’ve said in previous reviews, i wish they were more conscious of the steadicam direction and would stop showing extended bits of the production crew. at least everyone was wearing full blacks this time.

fun use of the upward angle combined with the groundwork/leg choreo during hongjoong’s verse, that was a highlight for me.

sf9 + tbz + ikon

nothing against this stage, the other one just hit harder for me. bobby is the best rapper on the show and he really carried this stage with his charisma. he’s a fun performer to watch and he knows how to command a space. i'm sure there’s technical notes that people have about the raps themselves, but i'm here looking at visuals as a priority, which i'm sure you’ve all grasped at this point.

costume

these were clearly extensions of these idol’s personal styles, with is a perfectly fine choice, especially for a rap stage where the emphasis is more on authorship. LOVED bobby’s 11yro girl at recess look.

amusing that both rap stages involved paint in some way? loved the backup dancers shooting supersoakers filled with paint at them, but i wish i knew the reason for it? i'm glad i saw this stage first because i would have been underwhelmed by the paint throwing if i had seen this after rainbow bonanza.

set

almost no set at all here, just a few props. i'm not judging as harshly on lack of set this round because these stages are meant to be more about skill than anything else.

lighting

i loved the projections, i thought they were unobtrusive and i admit, i LOVE outer space themed anything.

i liked that they did more concert lighting and had no projections in the first half to put more focus on the performers, it really highlighted the fact that this stage was about them, and not about anything extraneous.

sound

it was indeed a song.

staging

i do wish there had been a bit more control of the space, because it did look very empty at some parts and they could have staved that off by keeping tighter camera shots. this stage is so fucking big, holy shit.

they really brought their onstage chemistry and they looked like they were having a blast, which FINALLY!!

i actually really liked hwiyoung’s opening, i think there was a lot of potential there for some sharp contrast work that i wish had been played through a little more, especially with the cool white light overtop the black costumes. it actually reminded me a bit of the intro in the music video from a rapper i do actually listen to, bewhy’s gottasadae.

glad to see some more use of camera effects with the black and white, but why did they do it over the paint throwing? it just made the trajectory of the paint invisible because there was no colour contrast.

performance stages

sf9 + tbz + ikon

ok obviously im gonna have a lot more to say about the performance stages, nobody is surprised there. this one was the better constructed of the two and my personal pick for better stage, but i actually liked watching the both of them equally.

costume

king shit, literally. we love contemporary hanbok in this house. there was good colour and style distinction between the three of them without clashing.

costume change was fun and neatly blocked, it's pretty common to see backup dancers and chorus hiding quickchanges but i liked how this was a more unusual formation.

taeyang rocking the organza skirt and the big purple eyeshadow, thank you for keeping it cunty as always.

i really liked juyeon’s underlayer look. finally we get a good tbz costume look thats thematically relevant!

set

like all the stages this round, pretty minimal. the setting was almost entirely established through the costumes and the projections, which is some really good designwork. it's pretty much just the litters (the lifted chairs they entered on), and some smaller props. they managed to not make the stage feel empty because there was a lot of projection visuals to compensate, which is difficult to do without being overbearing, but i think they mostly pulled it off.

i originally thought it was gonna be weird to try and mesh the traditional korean architectural aesthetic with the weird mnet deco, but i ended up not noticing it as much as i thought i would.

lighting

like i just said, projections very well done and do a fantastic job of conveying setting without being overly distracting. like with the atz/skz/btob rap stage there’s a really broad range of colour use here that they offset by brightening and properly fill lighting the faces so you can actually see what’s happening.

the use of the strobing lasers and more concert style lighting fit really well with the change in the music from traditional instrument sounds to electronica and the more hiphop/isolated movements.

sound

i liked it well enough! i think it had a good arc that we can see echoed through the rest of the piece, like previously stated in the lighting and movement style.

staging

like i mentioned with the quickchange, there was some really interesting formations using the backup dancers here, especially as a lead toward/away from the camera

having the three of them enter on litters; again, literal king shit, love to see it.

this has a pretty clear narrative that doesnt really need an external explanation, which is good. i have to assume that the burning of the paper with 妃 (concubine) is intended to be a gesture of ‘burning’ the love out of their hearts, but that was the only thing i'm still confused on. this may very well turn out to be a reference to a specific story that i just have no idea what it is, but we’ll see once the subs are out!

i loved juyeons solo bit with the alcohol drinking and the table flip, that was the choreographic highlight for me. i just really wish he would use the other muscles in his face more often. we know youre pretty, you dont have to blue steel your way through all your performances!! take a page out of donghyuk’s book and make some ugly faces, it's good for you!!

i though taeyang’s swordwork was fine, but since i do actually have a decade of sword training i'm very judgemental. it's not bad, he obviously has practiced with the weapon and he knows how to control it, but he doesn’t have the same understanding as someone who has trained with a sword as a weapon and not just as a prop. if we hadn’t seen another stage with swordwork in it i probably wouldn’t have brought this up (that's a lie, i still would have brought it up, i have a third dan), but you can really see the difference between how minhyuk moves with his sword and how taeyang moves. a lot of this has to do with the proper weighting of the blade, which i mention briefly in my second episode review in btob’s section (and also this ask here, where i talk about properly weighted weapons in relation to the gun choreo in sf9’s and ateez’s previous stages); minhyuk is likely using a ‘real’ sword (it’s blunted but still made using proper methods and materials), and taeyang is using a cheaper-made replica (unless you’re doing full contact striking a LOT there’s no way a properly made blade breaks like that. also you would never tape it together hello??? respect the blade). if you know what you’re looking for, you can tell from the movements themselves when someone has training. minhyuk did a load of real training for a film where he was a swordsman, and you can tell; the sword is an extension of his arm, all the movements lead with the tip of the blade first, because that’s your first, your fastest, and your most dangerous point. you do 90% of your cutting with the first eight inches of blade, but it takes a lot of specific training to get your hands and arms to a place where that kind of movement is possible. taeyang’s movements are driven from his hands, which is unsurprising, because that’s where he’s used to his extensions stopping. the tip follows rather than leads. wow this got insanely sidetracked i hope you liked this crash course on swordwork.

this is pretty much what i expected to see from this unit. these three groups all have standout soloists, so i wasn’t surprised to see these three boys as the picks. juyeon and taeyang especially, theyre both from groups that are more likely to do experimental stages and choreography that highlights them as soloists and skilled dancers.

skz + btob + atz

this was a letdown from ateez’s last two stages, because they knocked those out of the park, but it's only fair that they have a bit of a fall. that being said, i did really enjoy watching this for its sheer ridiculousness; i’m forgiving the wolf concept this time because well, it’s wolf. you can't cover wolf and not do a wolf concept, that’s against the law. also, like i’ve said before, i'm all for dark concepts IF you give them thematic weight. is it on the nose? yes. is it thematically relevant? also yes. is it dumb? also also yes, but that’s never stopped a single kpop group in the history of ever.

costume

friendship restored with ateez stylists, rivalry started with skz stylists. the fur shoulder fluffs??? stupid and i love them. perfect in every way. however i keep seeing the same fucking costumes on the skz boys and i will come directly for the stylists at jype if they dont get their shit together. be! more! creative!!!

i really really wish they had gone more 2013 kpop with it, we need more of that ugly ridiculous styling. peniel was actually pretty close, with the overly long tunic and those yellow lenses. very vixx on and on (yes i know they were vampires from outer space, let me live)

i actually thought the wolf gloves were fun? the small bits of uv paint actually worked instead of looking out of place, and i'm glad they put them on wooyoung because the uglier an outfit, the better he pulls it off.

set

same dice, just the long table and the camo net at the beginning, which i thought was unnecessary. the table was useful for levels though, so happy to see they utilized that.

lighting

there is so much happening all the time. lots of lasers. it's definitely aiming for camp territory, and i dont actually hate it as much as i did on my first watch. it actually wasn’t as dark as i thought either, because its mostly lit with blue and amber. but it doesn’t really have that great of an arc and its not really that good on the whole.

the projections are a bit much for me, but that’s only when i'm actually looking at them. true to form, i didn’t even notice the excess of red slashes until like my fourth rewatch because i was too busy watching the performers.

sound

rookie exo my beloved. the original wolf goes so hard for absolutely no reason, so i’m not knocking this stage for being ridiculous. in fact it should have been more ridiculous. i think they did a fine job updating the song for a.....less 2013 sound.

i like that they didn’t bother to live sing the stage even though they recorded vocals for it, it gave them all a chance to actually focus on just the dance.

that being said, i am kind of missing all the adlibs from the original. but even though there’s some strong vocalists in this unit, they aren’t made of the same stuff as baekhyun, luhan, chen, AND d.o.

i literally just realized that peniel had already debuted when this song came out AND is technically exo’s senior because btob debuted like two weeks before exo officially did.....oh no

staging

choreographically this feels a lot more like the skz stages that we’ve seen rather than the ateez ones, so i'm curious as to who the choreographer was.

the tricking was definitely more ridiculous in this one, but i can't really say any of it was there for no reason because it all had elements of fighting in it. the scale of the tricks was quite large though and not very well blended with the rest of the choreo, which ending up making them look awkward. i thought it was a nice detail that they shone a green toplight on the dancers that made up the cliff wooyoung climbed up so that it looked like there was grass on it. cute.

the blocking is lacking a lot of fluidity, and i think that’s partially the scale of the tricking and also the editing, because this editing is TERRIBLE. there’s so much cutting, why is there so much cutting!! haven’t we already learned that longtakes are the best for this???

there’s a lot of stuff here that had good potential but could have been pushed a little farther. i feel like i say this for every mediocre stage, but what can i say, i'm good at constructive criticism.

they should have given more showcase to the tree and the scratching arms; it's the most iconic move!! i also wish they had kept some kind of iteration of the different unit ‘leaping’ in over the exiting one, i always thought that part of the original choreo was really fun and did a lot for establishing them as wolves.

i LOVED peniel entering with all those backup dancers in chains, thats some fucking iconic shit. very ‘im the alpha wolf,’ which is valid because he’s like at LEAST five years older than everyone else on the stage. i wish that instead of being the backup dancers it was the actual members, because THAT would have been an image. theyre all wearing harnesses and collars anyways, just clip em in! he’d be like one of those dogwalkers!

me last week: specifically talking about how krump is an uncommon style in kpop and it's very hard to get right kingdom, throwing the manifesting dodgeball at me for the third time: here would you like a KRUMP SOLO?

if you didnt believe me before that krump is hard to get right, i sure hope you do now. peniel did fine, but you can see how easily you can veer off into looking ridiculous.

some conclusions

i mentioned this really briefly in an ask i got earlier today, but i do think it's important to establish that the two performance units are doing two different types of performances. i can understand why people are underwhelmed by the atz/skz/btob stage and wanted it to be less of a traditional kpop dance stage and more like the experimental stages we’ve been seeing for the last few weeks. and i agree! i think they could have done more with it. but i also think that this kind of stage was a good choice for this particular subunit. unlike with the sf9/tbz/ikon unit, there are not really any standout technical soloists in ateez or skz. ateez has, in my opinion, the highest ratio of dancers with actual stage presence of any of the 4th gen groups ive seen. they’re at a solid 75% for any given performance, and occasionally they can bump that higher depending on the stage. that high of a stat is rare. it's extremely rare for a group to have all its members have good stage presence (i can think of like, maybe two or three?), and to get over 50% is pretty damn impressive. but ateez’s strength isn’t in how good they individually are as dancers, but it's in how well they work together. there’s a reason why they put FIVE of them in the performance unit. one of the first things i said about ateez to hanya is ‘i love wooyoung but he doesn’t stand out when he's not centre.’ which is for good reason!! he’s not supposed to! they all willingly give up centre and take it back when they need to, because they have that charisma. there’s a very cohesive push and pull to watching ateez that speaks to their strengths as performers. dancing in a group where you are all meant to be equal is a very different skill than just being a talented soloist. you have to understand what to prioritize in a different way. taemin dances differently with shinee that he does in his solo career, especially since they’ve been back. he understands when to step back; more often than not i find key to be the standout dancer in shinee choreo.

this is a very long winded way of saying that wolf was a good choice for them even though the stage didn’t turn out as well as it could have. also the fact that they made a cohesive performance at all, with a week of rehearsal and while working with essentially strangers is a feat and speaks to all of their skill at their job. performing in a group is a huge part of kpop, and they did call this the performance stage, and not the dance stage.

i'm not entirely sure on what the breakdown is on why each of the subunits were formed. i know the team sizes are extremely uneven, with sf9/tbz/ikon clocking in at 26 people and atz/skz/btob clocking in at 17 (i'm not counting changsub because he's not there and probably has a scheduling conflict), which is like, a whole extra group of difference. but atz/skz/btob utilizing their whole groups for each of the units (5/3/1 for performance, 1/3/1 for rap, and 1/1/1 for vocal, for 7/7/3 total), verses sf9/tbz/ikon only bringing out six people for these two stages and then six for the vocal stage is......weird? that's over half of their group number that’s not performing. i do think the groups brought out their standout performers and made smart choices with the stages but the balance still strikes me as odd. i do wish tbz had actually done some group choreo because they are very strong group performers and it would have been fun to watch.

ateez really played the long game here, good job boys. teaming up with the group who gets the highest fan votes AND the group with the strongest technical skills? i see you.

i think this is probably too wild of an assumption and is only based on circumstantial evidence but.....i think hongjoong might actually have a lot more creative sway than i previously thought. all the stages he’s been a part of have been very well designed, and i know he provided suggestions for the two ateez stages prior to this... i’m probably thinking too much.

ok you know what i know there were some other points in my brain somewhere but this is already 4000 words so i’m going to stop. if i remember anything else its probably gonna end up in the answer to some of the asks i’m inevitably going to get because i think my opinions on these ones are a little bit more controversial, whoops!

not entirely sure if ill do an extensive review for next week’s stage, because i'm not really a ballad fan and i dont really do vocal reviews, but i could do a quick one. i guess it also depends on what else they put in the episode. we’ll see!!

#kingdom #kingdom review #ateez #btob #stray kids #the boyz #sf9 #kpop analysis #if you read this i hope you like fun facts about theatre and swords!#despite having never seen me hanya managed to clock that hongjoong and i are extremely similar #so that might be why ive jumped to this nonsensical conclusion #also tbh i do have an opinion on why the unit breakdowns are like that but its mean so i will keep it to myself #ok im done now #i patiently await my asks #text #lol forgot to tag #ikon

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pettyprocrastination · 3 years

Text

Dinner for Three

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Valerie Lord x Black!Fem!Reader

OneShot: This is just a non-canon fic! This is basically placed AFTER the timelines of this fic, just a fun little side ficlet surrounding you and the lords after yall get together in celebration of Valentines day!

*If you want to read the rest of the fic so far here's a link to my masterlist where you can find Rip Out Our Seams & Stitch Us Together*

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: profanity, some groping going on and kissing. That's about it! Fluff and talking of self-worth.

Summary: It's Valentine's Day, you decide to treat Valerie to a nice homecooked dinner, Maxwell joins you when he returns home from work.

If the formatting is fucked im sorry tumblr fucked this like three times today im just trying to get it POSTED for you all.

Tag List: @captainsamwlsn @themarcusmoreno @cinewhore @thesadvampire @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @readsalot73 @holographic-carmen @honestlystop @thecrimsonsquire @phoenixhalliwell @that-chick212 @phantomnae @goldafterglow

If I forgot to tag you I'm so sorry please let me know!

Notes: BIG thank you to @ficsilike-reblogged who bought me a kofi! I know i was meant to do asomething shorter but i couldn't help myself! Also my usual big thanks for the ever lovely @teaofpeach for editing for me you are an absolute treat my dear ily <3

(i coudn't find any good lasagna gifs the TRAGEDY)

“What in God’s name are you wearing?”

You turned around at the shocked voice to see Valerie standing in the kitchen doorway, red painted lips dropped open.

You grinned and planted your hands on your hips with pride. “My Valentine’s Day outfit! You don’t like it?”

Her face fell flat as she looked you up and down; the main culprit of her disdain was the shirt you wore, buttoned neatly and covered in hearts. “Hon, you look like a cartoon character.”

You wiggled your brows. “A sexy cartoon character?”

“Remind me again why I love you?”

Hearing the word ‘love’ from Valerie Lord would never not send your heart into a frenzy. It had been months since the gala, since they had told you about their feelings with courage brought on my champagne and their own confessions to one another.

They finally had each other, why couldn't they have you as well?

Of course, that didn’t mean there wasn’t a… learning curve. When it came to the relationship, Valerie was bad at sharing her feelings. Sure, she’d say when she didn’t like somebody, or when she thought certain food tasted bad or when Maxwell’s new cologne smelled like rat shit. But she wouldn’t tell you when she was sad, insecure or felt like she wasn’t enough for the both of you.

Maxwell was too concerned with the outer view of the relationship, as he had been with Valerie since they got married. It was suspicious of course, for him to be seen leaving with a “mystery woman” without his wife around, so he took certain precautions. When out and about, he would take too much time fretting over the cameras and questions than you.

These precautions nearly cost them your relationship, their sweet girl who brought them together and showed them love and care and made them realize while they couldn't live without each other, they couldn’t live without you as well.

But now, they knew this. That you weren’t a fling who could be replaced. Your nimble fingers had stitched their beating hearts back together with a golden thread they wouldn’t dare untie from your own.

You turned away from the heiress and back to the stove as you stirred the red sauce in front of you.

“As abhorrent as that shirt is-” Her voice purred in your ear as her arms slid around your waist and pulled your back flush against her- “I love you in those jeans.”

You chuckled and kept your eyes on the task at hand as you slowly stirred. “As much of a compliment that is, Mrs. Lord, why don’t you keep those hands to yourself until I put this on the stove, alright?”

She hummed, contemplative before pressing her lips to the crook of your neck. “So mean to me baby.”

Her hands toyed with your belt loop, a painted nail hooking your shirt and slowly sliding it out from where it was tucked.

You sucked in a sharp breath. “Valerie.”

“What? Can’t I show my pretty baby some love on Valentines day?”

“Not while I’m cooking on a hot stove, little-miss-gropey.” A quick slap to her wrist with the wooden spoon made her yelp and yank her hands away from you.

“Bitch!”

You turned and pursed your lips. “Aww, poor baby, want me to kiss it better?”

She grumbled under her breath, taking in the splattered food on her wrist from the spoon before swiping her finger through it and bringing it to her mouth.

“Maybe you can kiss my ass instea- Oh, damn that’s good.”

Her eyes widened and you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of such a high and mighty woman licking the back of her hand.

“Is that-”

“Basil?” She hummed at the taste. “I’m glad you enjoy it. It’s my father’s recipe.”

Valerie watched you as you cooked. Methodically adding each ingredient while humming along to the radio and swaying from side to side.

“You don’t talk about him much.”

Valerie knew you were different than her and Maxwell. Your childhood wasn’t full of flashing cameras, propping questions, and hiding tears behind fake smiles to reporters. When your father was brought up in conversation, you didn’t bristle or change the subject. You would smile.

She wasn’t jealous of that joy. That love you had from your family. She’s grateful for it, that amongst the struggles you had, there was also support and happiness.

“He doesn’t come up in conversation often.” Valerie’s hands once more wrapped around your waist, but simply settled at your hips. Her body was flush with your own and she let her head rest on your shoulder, gently swaying with you as you continued to cook.

“Tell me about him.”

She saw the small smile that graced your lips, mourning and grateful all at once as you spoke of him.

“He used to say that as people, we’re a collection of those around us. The ones we’ve loved. All their little mannerisms and tics become a part of who we are. And that we do the same for other people who love us.”

As you slowly set the pasta onto the bottom of the pan and began to layer the sauce, she wondered who you were an amalgamation of. Was the way you tilted your head back as you laughed from an old flame?

Was the way you sang and shook your hips from a best friend when you were young, who you wished had been more?

Were the soft kisses you press to the tip of their noses something given to you? Or an act of love learned by watching your parents?

Did you have anything of hers? Of Max’s?

Did they have anything of yours?

“I see it in you and Max, yanno.” You stepped back to open the oven and settle the pan on the top rack before shutting it. “You both do a lil’ nose scrunch when you get angry.”

“What?” She drew back from your body, unintentionally wrinkling her nose in the process. “We do not.”

You pulled her close to your body again. Your arms settled around her waist as you slowly moved side to side. You hummed along to the smooth voice of Grover Washington Jr. that danced from the radio and filled the large kitchen, empty except for the two of you.

“Sure do. You're also both very boujee-”

“Hey.”

“A touch temperamental-”

“I’ll give you that one but-"

“As well as emotionally constipated-”

“Excuse me?”

“And yet-” You hummed, letting your head drop forward to rest against hers, nose bumping against hers in a gentle caress- “I can’t help but love you both every damn day.”

Her blue eyes widened, before she groaned and shoved her face into your shirt.

“You fucking sap.” She lifted her head to yours and kissed you. The melody curled around you as she wrapped her arms around your neck and tugged you flush against her. A soft moan broke from her lips as you ran your hands over the plush skin of her ass.

You pulled away long enough to press a kiss to the tip of her nose, giggling when her face scrunched up in response. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Val."

Valerie Lord never thought she’d have this. This love and security. The ability to smile and kiss and dance on a Sunday night in the arms of a lover. She didn’t think she’d ever have a day where she felt love, a love she wasn’t afraid to admit.

Especially to two people.

The pair of you danced in silence, listening to the lyrics that serenaded the way you spun her and the laugh that bubbled up her chest her perfect, pinned, blonde curls came loose.

And darling when the morning comes

And I see the morning sun

I wanna be the one with you.

When Maxwell came home, he noticed how quiet the house was. No chatter or footsteps along the hardwood floors. He knew what day it was, of course he did. He wasn’t an idiot. Valentine’s Day wasn’t a special day with the Lords. It never had been.

But of course, that was before they met you.

Maxwell never saw that love with his parents. His mother was cold and cruel, and while his father was a good man, he knew he didn’t love her. He didn’t blame him for it. But now he felt it. The way his heart would hammer against his ribs so hard he wondered if you could hear him. The way all his stress and anger would melt away the moment Valerie’s hands held his face in a grasp like that used to carry a bird with a broken wing.

He didn’t think it was possible to love. To desire and need somebody as much as he did you two. Now he did, and he wouldn’t go back to a life without it for all the money and power in the world.

The sound of smooth sax caught his attention. Slowly, he set down his briefcase and followed the music until he found himself in front of the kitchen.

This. Maxwell thought as he watched the two of you, your eyes shut as you held one another in a close embrace as swayed. This is why he did it all.

The long hours, the greuling work and idiotic employees. If he could come home to this everyday, it’d all be worth it.

He leaned against the doorway, watching you two until your own eyes opened and met his.

“Happy to finally have you with us monopoly-man.”

He snorted at your lovingly crude nickname. “It was a long day at work.” Gone was the fake ‘apple-pie-and-picket-fence’ accent he forced himself to use at work when he spoke and you loved it. To see the real Maxwell was a privilege, one you would never take for granted.

“Every day at work is a long day for you.”

Before he could retort, his wife unwrapped her arms from you and walked over to her husband. Valerie cupped his face in her hand and led him to her lips with a soft moan. Maxwell melted into the kiss with ease, all thoughts of work and conference calls vanished into thin air as his wife’s fingers carded through his hair. She pulled away with a wet pop and ran a thumb over the smudged lipstick on his face.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, dear.”

Maxwell let his hand run over her bottom lip with a lazy smile. She was magnificent like this. Not preened or pinned or posed. She was messy and unkempt and happy. She never looked more breathtaking than in those moments.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, honey.”

Her eyes flicked over his crisp suit and her sweet smile was replaced with a groan.

“Son of a bitch you fuckers are matching!”

You shrieked with laughter while Valerie pointed an accusatory finger at the heart-covered tie that lay on her husband’s chest.

“You tacky traitor!”

You leaned over and pressed your lips to his cheek, his hand coming to rest at the small of your back.

“Aw don’t worry, Max. She’s just jealous she isn't matching with us.”

Valerie reared back. “I’ll be caught dead before I ever-”

“Alastair sent them to us.”

A moment of silence passed before she spoke again, more offended than annoyed.

“And he didn’t send one for me?”

Maxwell smirked at his wife, fishing out a small white box and presenting it to her.

“Our son knows his mother wouldn’t be caught dead in anything with gaudy patterns.” He opened the box and she took in the red heart earrings with a smile.

Which was ultimately ruined by you.

“Aw, he boujee just like his mama!”

Before either one could snap back at you, a small ding sounded through the kitchen and you moved quickly over to the oven.

“You know-” Maxwell spoke as he put the earrings on his wife with gentle hands- “We have a chef for a reason.”

You brought out the pan and set it onto the stove, taking in the savory smell with a proud smile.

“Well, fine then. Go get your cook to make you dinner if you want to complain.”

“Wait. Wait, no that not- that’s not what I meant- I’m starving, please.”

Valerie moved around her husband, taking a bottle of red wine and bumping his hip with hers. “Just set the table Maxwell, we both know how you can make it up to her later. It’s a special day after it all.”

Her husband loosened his tie and grinned at you in a way that made you think he wanted to eat you for dinner instead of the meal you prepared.

“Lovely idea, darling.”

#maxwell lord #maxwell lord x oc #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord x you #valerie lord x reader #maxwell lord x valerie lord x reader #ROOSASUT #ww1984 #wonder women 1984 #fanfiction #max lord #maxwell lorenzano #tell me if i missed any tags lmao

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beauty1n7h3darkness · 3 years

Text

Who They Are

Summary: After deciding to trust the fellow, you take their hand and make your escape. You have no idea who he is or how he knew what he knew or if he was telling the truth. Hopefully though, he was telling the truth. It would explain so much to you about your “family” and why you are treated like you are. ...as well as why they- well, that’s another story.

(This was written on a desk-top btw, I apologize if the formatting is weird)

----------------------------------------------------

After evading the possible kidnapping, you started to observe your “savior.” He was a tall fellow. Olive skin, fit physique, medium hair, and semi-broad shoulders. His clothes were neatly put together, which suggest an organized life. The clothes weren't bright or crazy, but they were basic and dark, which tells you that he doesn't want to stick out.

What you didn't realize was that you were staring at him. At first, he decided to ignore your eyes on him, but after a while, it got creepy.

"Not to be rude, but why are you staring at me," the man asked.

Widening your eyes, you looked away, "I was observing you."

The man makes a noise of acknowledgment after a while, making you doubt if he believed you. But seeming as he let it go, you were too.

"Alright, just through there," the man said.

Looking at where he was talking, you froze. The building was old and worn down, but you could recognize it anywhere.

--------------------

'hmm'

'mama, papa?'

'Why are we at Edrigia' (E-Dri-gi-a)

'You're going to be here for a while, until we come back'

----------------------------------

Blinking rapidly, you shook out of it, "I'm sorry, what was it?"

"Y/n.....Y/n......Y/N!!"

"As I was saying, we'll need to cut through here. There's nothing to worry about, I just cut through yesterday, it's deserted," he informed.

"What’s your name," you asked.

"That’s hardly im-"

"You've drug me from danger and to this place and I would like the name of the man I'm supposedly supposed to be trusting," you sassed, stopping in your tracks and crossing your arms.

Sighing, the man stopped and turned around, looking at your posture of defiance, "Fine. My name (is Jeff) is L’Rod.”

Cocking your head to the side and furrowing your eyebrows a bit, you repeated it with confusion, “L’Rod?”

“Yes, now let’s keep moving,” he grunted, turning around continuing on.

As you were following behind him, you still pondered over his name. ‘Was it an alias? most likely, but hey, anything his possible right? Right.’ Letting out a puff of air, you shook your head of those thoughts. With everything that’s happened so far, it’d be best if you had a clear mind. Ahead of you, L’Rod pondered over your behavior. You didn’t seem to act much like your mother, so maybe you relate more with your father. Grunting he cleared those thoughts out, he had to be observant and on high alert not wondering about his-

“Sooooo...Why were those guys tryna kill me,” you inquired, successfully bringing him out of his thoughts.

“I’ll tell you when we get to our destination,” he answered curtly, letting you know he wasn’t going to answer anymore questions.

Sighing, you guys continued your stretch to wherever you were going. At least it was a beautiful night. The pale moonlight beautifully illuminated the worn building, giving you a chance to see the growing greenery on and around it. Gosh, you wished you had a camera, it was truly something out of the land of make-believe. When you entered the building you were blown away. It complimented the outside well.

(credits to the owner of this image)

As L’rod went on he noticed your lack of footsteps and turned to see you admiring the place.

“Come on, y/n,” he called, pullign you out of your trance, “we need to go to my safe place. Who knows, we could’ve been followed.”

Nodding, you gave the place on last once-over before trotting up to him. Mentally, he kicks himself, he could have been nicer, he’d apologize for the possible harshness once you two got to his safe haven. For now, he had to put more emphasis on you and your well-being, his included. So pushing the matter aside, he refocused and started forward, making sure you were in tow. It was going to be a long night.

----------------------------Meanwhile at Passione headquarters----------------------

The Capo and Informant had just finished telling what happened in the interrogation to the now 18 year old Don. Sighing, he frowned a bit, taking in the information. Obviously they were being targeted by someone, the question is who? Ever since the changes he’s made, Passione has gained a lot of enemies. But from the way the information was being told, it seemed this has been planned for a while, given that the two men knew almost everything about them- excluding their stands and abilities thank goodness.

“It seems you were right again Bucciarati,” the Don began with a light chuckle. Bucciarati had previously made the Don aware about things that could happen once he took control of Passione and had been right about a few of them. Privately, the capo had told him about a dream where something like this happened. It seems he was perceptive even in the dream realm. “We’ll have to be very cautious and observe everyone of our enemies. Abbacchio, Mista I need you go back to the restaurant you guys were dinning at and gather information.”

Grunting, the white haired man nodded, while the gunslinger gave an audible response.

Moving on, the Don continued, “Fugo, I need you to hack into our visitors’ phones, check and see who they’ve been communicating with and look into them all. It’s strenuous, but I know you can do it, I’ll help you as well. Bucciarati, Narancia, I need you two to see what people on the street are saying. It’s risky but together, you two are invincible.”

The Don looks out the window, knowing that this would be the last night of peace for them all. War was about to begin.

“Dismissed...we all need to rest up for what’s about to begin...we may be on the verge of another war,” The Don clarifies going over to his desk.

The others in the room quietly left-aside from Bucciarati. Sensing the stress on the young man, the capo stayed to talk with him.

“Giorno, that means you rest too,” Bucciarati stated, watching the younger nod slightly.

“I know but-”

“No buts,” the latter cut him off, “Tomorrow we’ll all start on our work,” Bucciarati finished, scolding the younger slightly.

Knowing the older man wasn’t going to give up, the younger man gave in, “Alright, Bucciarati, you win. I’ll rest.”

Bucciarati made a hum of approval, waiting until Giorno was done locking up his office so they could depart together. As they were going to their place of residency, the pair knew that they had to be cautious about this enemy, not wanting to have any repeats as to what happened in the other war. They had all almost lost their lives in that fight, Abbacchio, Narancia, and Bucciarati had the worst injuries though. Clearing their heads from those thoughts, they put their minds to different things. Giorno thinking about the two mens’ possible identities and Bruno thinking as to why they wanted Y/n so badly and why her name sounded so familiar.

@#$%^&*()_+P6549841651654A987/49885165484N!@#$%^&*()_E!@#$%^&*()

#bruno bucciarati #Vento Aureo #bruno bucciarati x reader #who series #who they are #stay tuned

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dw-writes · 4 years

Text

Dial Tone Devil - Quarantine

Hey guys!!! So, I'm currently at work, and suddenly had a spark (FINALLY) to put something together. Since Im at work, I couldnt really work on the next chapter, but I thought that this would be okay instead!!! This is TECHNICALLY part of the Dial Tone Devil series, as you can see, but can be read independently of that.

If you like this and havent read the series, give it a go! You can search for it under Dial Tone Devil series in the tumblr search, or scroll through my blog for the latest chapter. Ill get to formatting this and anything else Dial Tone related once I am home later tonight!

Please enjoy, let me know what you think, and most importantly: stay safe.

"What am I supposed to do?" Lucifer's voice reached you before you saw him, echoing down the hall of your office as he shouted, "Quarantine? I--" He threw his arms up in a dramatic exclamation as he crossed your threshold. "No people? No one? No one can leave their homes?"

"Please remember, it's a national emergency and not about you," you pointed out as you glanced up from your work. You were tired. Your hands hurt from gripping your pen for hours as you tried to balance the books, searching for a way to continue to pay everyone employed at Lux: the dancers, the bartenders, the waiters. It was a struggle, even with the massive amount of green you had to work with, and it made you so tired, and stressed, and--

"No, I know that." He waved his hand as he grew closer, stopping just on the other side of the chairs before your desk. He eyed the empty floor space between you. "Is that six feet?"

"What?"

"The health people said six feet was the distance to keep." He rummaged around in his suit pockets. "I don't have to worry - well, unless I'm near the Detective, but hopefully she wouldn't be sick - but YOU! You, with your pesky, weak, utterly human immune system." He pulled from his pocket a neatly folded mask in your favorite color and pattern, waving it with a gentle 'ta-da.' He pouted, swung the mask, and sent it sliding across your desk and into your lap. "Perfect."

You picked it up, heart racing in your chest. "You got this for me?" you asked.

"Yes, now put it on, quickly." As you ripped the mask free and carefully looped it around your ears, and over your mouth and nose, Lucifer dragged a chair close and sat on its edge. "How many people do we employ?"

"What?"

"How many? They can't come here, not with this, so I need to make sure they're aware that they're still getting paid." You blinked owlishly at him, palms suddenly sweaty in your lap.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes?" Lucifer swung your papers around to look at them. "I have more than enough to help. Keep paychecks going. Insurance? That's a thing they'll need - Can we get a better one, something that we cover completely? I assume they'll need something good, something they don't need to pay for will be best."

"Lucifer." You reached out to touch his hand.

He yanked them back, staring at you in aghast horror. "No? No, you can't--" He cut himself off as his head whipped around the room. "--Touch me? I may have dirty hands! I've been driving around!" He launched from his chair and deftly lifted an unopened bottle of high grade vodka from a box against the wall, opening it and pouring it over his hands. He sniffed the neck, shrugged, and took a small swig next. "There. Clean."

"You're really worried," you pointed out.

He did a double take, torn between staring at you and going over the label of the bottle. "Well....of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?" He set the bottle on your desk as he sat. "You, the Detective, her little imp. Detective Douche, Miss Lopez, Linda..." He tilted his head. "Everyone here," he hastily added. He sat back in his seat. "You're all human, you could all catch this. I..." He shrugged. The word was soft when it left his lips, as though he was both reluctant and surprised, "Care." He didn't look you in the eye, but the sag of his shoulders, the softness to his face, all of it told you he really meant it.

You smiled. Your heart slowed. Seeing him like this, so protective of the people in his life, it really drove home how you felt for him. You stretched your arms across your desk, holding your hands up towards him. He eyed them warily, glanced over his own hands, and then tentatively took yours.

You gave them a squeeze. "Thank you, Lucifer."

He gulped, and squeezed your hands in return. "You're welcome."

You pulled your hands away. His grip grew tighter around your fingers, but he released them without complaint. As he lowered his hands to his lap, he grasped them together and squeezed until his knuckles went bloodless and white.

"So, those employees," he murmured.

You pulled your work into the center of your desk as you rolled your chair as close as possible. "Right, so..."

#dial tone devil series #lucifer morningstar/reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer on netflix #lucifer on netflix imagine #lucifer on netflix imagines #lucifer on netflix requests #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer on fox

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scoupsy-remade · 4 years

Note

hi hello! gfx anon here!! so i have successfully downloaded the my my mv, but as i am going thru the frames on vlc, it all looks kinda blurry? i downloaded it in the highest quality available, so i was wondering if it was supposed to look like that? thank you!!

I'll put this under a read more because im gonna use some screen shots

So, when I use the 4kvideo downloader I switch the format to mvk instead of mp4 because i think it works better with the video players I use

plus sometimes youtube doesnt let you download past 1080p on mp4 I don't know why but yeah....

And then when using VLC I use ‘hotkeys’ to go frame by frame and take snapshots of each usable frame ( i do the snap shots instead of screenshots because i find it takes better shots then my computer. I don’t remember what their assigned hotkeys are but you can change them in VLC’s preferences. so mine look like this:

and the snapshot:

Now using snapshots instead of screenshots will put each one in a specific folder, if you dont know where they’re going, or you wanna make a special folder for them you can do it in preferences like this :

(ignore that my computer is called batcave im a mess) and it’ll stack them neatly in order in the highest quality!!

if for some reason it’s not working try sending me a screenshot thats blurry and maybe i can figure out why it’s being like that. I hope this works and it’s not hard to understand!

#anon #drm.ask #gfx anon

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lxveille · 6 years

Text

as in ‘crush’

joshua x reader

word count: ~ 5900 a/n: american university!AU; ambiguously non-american/non-native english speaker!reader; probably too much actual talk about IPA; the tiniest dash of nsfw at the end

If only the course listing had warned you that concentrating in your English phonetics course would be made ten times harder by developing a truly GPA-threatening crush on one Joshua Hong.

“To facilitate pronunciation, the nasal consonant changes its place of articulation to match that of the consonant directly following…”

You are really trying to follow along with your professor’s eloquent example of an assimilation rule in the phonetics of standard English. Thus far all you have written down in your notebook, however, is just “ASSIMILATION RULES”, underlined twice with ‘homorganic nasal rule’ jotted underneath it. Since then, all you’d managed to do was rewrite over the word homorganic several times over. A part of you was trying to remember whether the professor had pronounced homorganic with five syllables or four. So at least you were still a little bit studious.

Most of you, however, is having to focus way too much on not letting your gaze flicker over to your left to where you know Joshua is sitting. He’s probably having no trouble at all following the lecture. His calm yet intensely focused gaze had been one of the first things that you’d been taken by. Other than just his overall appearance, which has been a distraction since day one of class.

“I think I’ve been mispronouncing im-polite for years,” Seungkwan whispers to you from the desk next to you, emphasizing the nasal enough for you to clue in that he must be referencing the phenomenon your professor is going on about.

Most of those in Phonetics of the English Language are international students. Without anyone suggesting it be done, you tend to arrange yourselves in the classroom so that you’re arranged by homeland, or at least by mother tongue. You happened to be one of two in this class from your country; the other girl always sits on your right.

As it happens, the small group of students from South Korea sit to your left. Seungkwan was the one who sat on the rightmost end of that group, and so it was purely by this coincidence of this self-selected, entirely unofficial seating chart that the two of you struck up a friendship which seemed to exist exclusively within this one classroom.

You’re doing your best not to make your horrible infatuation with his friend too obvious.

“What does homo-organic mean?” you half-mouth at him, gesturing with your pen to your sorry looking notes. Seungkwan holds back a snort of laughter and shrugs at you. You give him a panicked look and then turn to your right, whispering desperately in your first language.

When you glance back over to Seungkwan, he raises his eyebrows to wordlessly ask if you got an answer.

“Can we compare notes after class?” you ask quietly. While you're posing the question, you gaze flickers beyond him and two more desks down to where Joshua is still. He has one elbow propped up on the fold-down desktop, chin resting in his palm and fingers curled in towards his lips.

“If you take notes!” he nearly threatens to go above the volume any student would dare use during side conversation.

“Shht, okay, okay,” you wave your hand at him to urge him not to risk making any kind of scene and turn your attention towards the front of the room.

Fifty-three minutes later, when the professor has struck her signature end-of-class pose of shutting her folder of notes and settling both hands on the table in the front of the room, the room erupts into a symphony of languages. Yours included, as you bid your compatriot goodbye. You about close up your notebook when Seungkwan pauses his conversation to remind you that you’d asked to revise together.

“I’ll meet you at the chairs in the hall?” The word lounge occurs to you to use, but you aren’t certain if it counts if the comfy furniture and low-set tables aren’t technically in a separate room of themselves. He nods and then slips back into Korean with his friends. You take it as your cue to finish gathering your things.

It’s cooler in the hallway. You’ll never understand why the university seems to think the classrooms can only either be uncomfortably warm or overly air-conditioned. You arrange yourself with your notebook and the course’s main textbook, already searching for extra answers in the chapter you’d only half-read the night before.

You hear Seungkwan and his friends leaving the classroom before you look up to see them. They’re laughing and (you assume) saying their goodbyes as he breaks off from the group to join you.

The two of you spend about twenty minutes going over notes and textbook chapters and doing google searches in your respective languages just to double check. At the tail end of this, Seungkwan is making notes in Hangul in the margins of his notebook while you’re busy flipping through the syllabus.

“Oh, I’m so glad the homework is just some IPA transcription,” you think out loud.

“Ah -- is it really?” Seungkwan doesn’t sound as relieved as you as he glances over at the paper in your lap. “I hate those assignments.”

“Why? It’s much easier than having to read all that theory and research.” Sure, the international phonetic alphabet had taken some getting used to, and one of the front pages of your notebook was covered in your handwritten practicing at writing the symbols out along with your notes on model words you were confident of in English for each consonant and vowel.

“I worry I don’t know how to say things correctly. Then get it wrong because of that.” He frowns only for a moment before his phone buzzes and distracts him from the conversation at hand.

“I’m happy to help if you ever want to check transcriptions together.” You doubt he’ll ever take you up on the offer. That’s been your experience with most other classroom friendships since you started school here. Friendships had mostly been found in your dorm’s common room and in extracurriculars.

“Thank you,” Seungkwan gives the standard response to such an idea, looking up from his phone with a sincere smile.

When you arrive to the next class session approximately ten minutes early, Seungkwan comes in shortly after and promptly starts asking to compare your homework. You blink with surprise for a moment before you click into action, pulling out your notebook and flipping the page where you’d completed the required transcriptions. In his evident rush to verify his work, you decide it’ll be easiest just to hand over your notes. With other students streaming you, you watch as Seungkwan glances back and forth between your work and his own.

“Ah, wait, why did you write this one with epsilon, but not schwa?” he asks, nearly slamming your notebook back onto your desk and pointing at the neatly-numbered seventh one down on your paper.

“Well… it’d be, like… wunt if you wrote it with a schwa. And it’s went,” you explain simply.

He glances over his shoulder, checking which of his friends have already arrived. “Thanks,” he says, and then he rounds on Joshua, nearly yelling something emphatically to him in Korean that has you feeling guilty even if you can’t understand a single word. An apologetic smile twitches at your lips when Joshua glances in your direction while Seungkwan is pointing at the transcriptions on his paper dramatically. As far as your aware, this is the first time Joshua has ever looked at you intentionally; the first time he’s looked at you for longer than a millisecond and it’s absolutely overwhelming to think that it’s happening because of homework corrections of all things. You divert your gaze before you get the chance to see the smile Joshua sends your way even as he’s being reprimanded.

Two weeks later, midterms are officially right around the corner. You have a study session scheduled in the library exactly fifteen minutes after your phonetics class finishes with a group of students in your semantics course. You spend probably a good part of the second-half of the lecture worrying about whether or not your classmates will able to help you with the questions you still have on the midterm material.

The moment your phonetics professor finishes going over the format of the midterm exam and announces she’s done for the day, you’re hurriedly putting your belongs back in your bag. The moment you’re about to stand up, however, a figure suddenly appears in the space you were about to step into, bocking your quick departure. You look up and find yourself at a total loss for words when Joshua is smiling down at you.

The hand holding the strap of your backpack lowers meekly as you give him a curious look. You close your mouth as soon as you realize you’re practically gaping at him.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

You nod, feeling as though the gesture must look dumb.

“Seungkwan says you’re really good at IPA and I think I’ll legitimately fail if I just using a schwa every time I can’t figure out a vowel. So, do you think you could help me study up on that?”

This is a joke. You think as much because the universe would never be so kind as to dump a beautiful boy in need right at your feet with a smile as sweet as Joshua’s. “Okay,” you answer despite the paranoid voice chiming in at the back of your mind trying to convince you that this will be a horrible mistake.

“Cool. Would the student lounge on this floor work?”

“I have to go to the library,” you snap back to your reality. “Um, now,” you add as you take a glance at your phone’s screen. Another international student has frantically texted you that he’s gotten to the library early and is already freaking out at the prospect of sustaining small talk with the quick-talking native speakers in your study group.

“Oh,” he sounds disappointed and your wistful heart is devastated at the notion. “Do you have enough time to take my number? We can text to figure out what’ll work.”

You’re in a daze through the whole exchange. Mostly because Joshua’s fingers brushed against your own as took your phone to type in his contact information. It wasn’t what you’d call sparks. More of a numbing sort of static that washed over you in a wave that left your fingers itching to be wound up with his.

“If you don’t text him I will grab your phone and message him on your behalf asking when he’s next available to spend a couple hours making out,” your closest friend scolds you in your shared mother tongue in the dining hall during lunch the next day.

You blush, and find yourself grateful - and not for the first time - that there’s no guarantee those around you can understand what you’re saying.

“I don’t think I can be alone with him. I’ll go out of my mind. My soul will escape out my stupid, open-hanging mouth and he won’t even get the help he wants.”

“There’s no way this guy is that attractive. You need some perspective, I swear.” She stabs a fork into one of the fries on her plate and then points it in your direction as another idea occurs to her. “Getting the chance to help him might help you realize he’s not some flawless being dropped down from the heavens. Nothing messes up my infatuations like hearing a guy say something completely wrong on a basic facts level.”

“IPA is hard,” you defend, saying only the acronym alone in English.

“And you are really smart for mastering it. Be confident!” she urges. “We’ve also yet to consider that he might be asking for help from you not just for the sake of passing your phonetics midterm.”

Before you can reply you hear your name from over your shoulder. When you turn to look, you nearly drop your fork when you’re greeted with the sight of Joshua.

“Hi,” you switch into English and worry instantly that you might have food in your teeth or unflattering crumbs fallen in your lap.

“Everything go alright with your library thing?”

“Is that him?” your friend asks, utterly shameless with the confidence that he wouldn’t be able to understand.

“It was alright,” you answer Joshua without acknowledging her.

“Oh, good.” He smiles and you’re certain your mirrored expression will give away the answer to your friend’s ignored question. “Any time to help a guy out with phonetics today?”

“Sure.” The word slips out before you think it through.

“Awesome.” His smile only flourishes. “I’m just grabbing lunch now but I’ll text you when I’m done?”

“Okay. That sounds good.” Truly, you’re astonished that you don’t stammer over your agreement.

Does my dorm work?

It had taken you a good fifteen minutes to answer that text after it first arrived from Joshua. You’d been managing a cohesive, casual conversation about when and where would work best to study up until that. Once you’d brought yourself back to rational thought, you’d message back that it would be fine.

Which is how you’ve ended up standing outside a dormitory other than your own with a bag full of your phonetics materials and your phone in one hand as you wait nervously for Joshua to come let you into the building. He appears with a bright, appreciative smile and holds the door open for you as you come inside.

“Sorry if my room’s kinda a mess. My roommate and I keep putting off our big clean-it-all day,” he apologizes in advance as he leads you up the stairs to his floor.

His room doesn’t look that bad at all, save a few stray wrappers from snacks and bit of strewn laundry on the side of the room you quickly discover is not Joshua’s. When it’s decided that the most convenient place for you both to sit and work through the phonetic alphabet together is side-by-side on his bed, you’re grateful that the only thing that crosses your mind is how soft his duvet is.

“So… the IPA vowels?” you recall him mentioning being his point of weakness. He chuckles, and you spot a slightly embarrassed tinge to his smile. “Do you want to show me your transcriptions from class?”

Joshua hops up from the bed and brings back his notepad from class. “You’re playing teacher here, so no laughing,” he requests as he hands it over, opened up to a page full of messy IPA with corrections written in anywhere he could find space.

“You’re… obsessed with the schwa,” you conclude after about forty-five seconds of scanning the page.

“Hey! Obsessed is the wrong word,” he suggests, propping one socked foot up on the bed as he leans back on his hands, “I just default to it.”

“It’s usually not a stressed vowel,” you begin with, as you lean down to grab a pen out of your bag. With one hand holding his notebook, you resort to uncapping your pen with your teeth, holding the cap between your lips as you twirl the Bic around in your fingers to slip it onto the backend. Your preoccupation with the task means you miss the way Joshua’s gaze zeros in on your lips at the action; his own press into a thin line as he reminds himself you’re just doing something practical.

“This is an IPA chart for vowels, okay?” you speak idly as you start drawing out the arrangement of front-central-back and closed to open sounds. “And your favorite is right in the middle, mid-central. It seems like you mostly confuse it with other mid-placed vowels. But… um, both front and back placed ones.”

“You’re losing me already,” Joshua confesses with another short laugh at his own expense.

You hum lightly, drawing over a few of the phonetic symbols a second time as you try to think of how to explain it. “I usually think of an example word. One syllable. That way I know what sound for sure goes with each vowel.”

“Like, epsilon is more front than schwa,” you tap lightly at where the symbol is positioned on the chart you’d written out in his notebook. “And it sounds like in ‘bet’.” Joshua’s spine straightens up some as you beginning this explanation. You jot down your example underneath the symbol and underline the e in bet. “Then, more closed and more front is the /e/, which makes the, um… ‘ay’ sound, you know, like…”

“Bait?” he suggests. You nod, smiling encouragingly as you copy the word down, once more underlining the vowel. “Your handwriting’s nice,” he compliments as he leans in slightly to get a better look at everything you’re putting down.

“Nearby,” you carry own without expressing any kind of gratitude. His closer positioning has you feeling a bit more self-conscious. “Is the small capital i. It’s easy, like what’s in the word ‘it’, or ‘miss’, or... ‘kiss’.” He hums in understanding beside you.

“The back ones you mix up with schwa are maybe a little harder.” You tap the back of the pen against the paper; you hope Joshua won’t know it’s a sign of your nerves at his proximity. You’ve been smitten enough so far with just the look of him. You hadn’t anticipated that the smell of him would endear you all the more to him. A stay glance over towards his dresser doesn’t tell you what cologne he wears, but you’re certain he must be wearing something. No one smells this nice all on their own.

“Open-o isn’t too bad. Just, if anything makes the sound like in ‘thought’, it’s this one.” You circle the vowels in the word lightly, the ink barely leaving a mark on the page. “And then there’s the caret, which is sort of… right in the middle of schwa and open-o?” You trace the flipped v shape of the symbol. “It’s the ‘uh’ sound, as in ‘crush’.”

“I think I say it was a schwa,” he muses, watching as you write the word out.

“Crush?” you repeat, finally lifting your head to look at him.

“Crush,” he echoes more firmly. You have to admit his vowel is a bit more relaxed than when you pronounce it, making it sound closer to the schwa sound.

“I don’t know,” you surrender, fearing yourself unable to sustain eye contact without starting to blush. “You’re probably right.” You can practically hear the scolding your friend will give you for not sticking with confidence already. “You’re probably the best at English of the international kids in our class, I mean,” you reason.

“I’m from California,” he corrects you after a beat of awkward silence. You look up at him for a moment just to confirm his sincerity and proceed to shut your eyes with a grimace of embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize because it feels like the only thing you can do. “I assumed because…”

“It’s okay,” Joshua cuts in gently, like he wishes this whole thing had not come up in the first place. Another aspect of the situation for you to feel guilty for. “It happens.” You are filled with dread. Just because he’s dealt with this sort of mix up before doesn’t make you feel any better for having added another tally to the instances of it.

Your mind is searching for some kind of segue into leaving, or any kind of excuse to get out of the room.

“They’re pretty close in pronunciation,” Joshua points out instead, pointing to the caret and the schwa on your vowel chart. Guilt still leaves you wordless, so you nod in agreement. “Maybe I should try a couple transcriptions with the tips you’ve given so far?” he changes the subject officially. It’s obvious he wants to move along. At this point abiding that desire seems like the only polite thing to do.

You only spend fifteen minutes more in his room, helping him through a few transcriptions with the vowels he struggles over the most. When you gather your things to leave, he offers to walk you back down to the front door of the building. You accept only because insisting he does otherwise seems like it will make things more awkward.

When your phonetics class rolls around again, you stop in your tracks at the doorway when you see the Seungkwan and Joshua have traded spots. Trying not to make your missed beat too obvious, you push yourself back into motion and slip into your usual seat.

“Hey, how’re you?” asks Joshua, eyes following you as you settle in.

“I’m okay,” you answer as you flip through to a clean page of your notepad. “Tired,” you add for a touch more honesty as you turn your head to look at him. “How are you?”

“Same, pretty much.” He shrugs. “I think I did alright on the transcriptions for today. Thanks again for helping me out with that.” You feel forgiven, or even as though he was never mad.

Throughout the entire lecture, your gaze plays a furtive version of tag with Joshua’s. Every so often you’d let your glances meet for more than a second. And these instances are accompanied with an upwards tick in Joshua’s lips every time, however fleeting the expression was before one of you would redirect your sight to the front of the room or to your notes. It feels as though each flickering glimpse at one another is tugging away at whatever chance at subtlety you ever had.

Next class, when it’s time to take the midterm exam, you sit one sit further over than usual. Putting space between you and Joshua is the only chance you’ll have at passing.

Come Thursday, when all your midterms have been completed, it’s easy to convince you to attend some party being thrown by some friend-of-a-friend in one of the suites in the more modern dormitory. You and your friends made the trek across campus with plastic water bottles filled with cheap whiskey and lemonade.

It isn’t difficult getting into the building. It takes a few moments of pounding on the front door before one of the residents passes by and is kind enough to open it for you. From there, finding the suite hosting the party is as easy as following the sound of heavy bass and loud chatter.

The suites may be bigger than a standard room, but it’s absolutely packed with students eager to let out pent-up stress from midterms. You take a large gulp from your bottle as your friends make their way further into the festivities.

Loud music keeps you from hearing Seungkwan calling your name the first time. He’s impossible to miss once he taps you on the shoulder. “I’ve never seen you out before!” he exclaims the obvious.

“Me neither.” You have to shout from the volume around. “How did your exams go?”

“Ahh,” he throws his head back dramatically before putting it in clear terms, “I’m so glad they are over!” You nod an eager seconding of the sentiment. Unsure what else you can say to him, you take another drink from your bottle instead. “That doesn’t look like water,” Seungkwan comments with a grin.

“Do you want some?” you offer, “It’s lemonade and, ah… Jack Daniel’s?” You only half remember the brand name of the bottle your friend had passed you.

“Sure,” he accepts quickly; it’s likely the answer he would have given regardless of what you told him was inside the clear plastic. You hand it over and watch him grimace as he swallows a sip. “That’s strong,” he tells you as he passes it back.

“Sorry,” you laugh as you bring it back up to your own lips. “Sidenote -- is English easier to speak drunk?”

“Yes!” Seungkwan concurs, smiling so brightly that you can’t help grinning back at him. “Should we be drinking before class?” he asks facetiously.

“Probably not,” you advise through giggles you might not have had if it weren’t for the buzz of alcohol in your system.

You watch with widened eyes as another boy comes all but crashing into Seungkwan, arm looping around his shoulder and saying something energetically in Korean. You’re about to turn to go find your friends again when Seungkwan calls out for you to wait. He says something more to the newcomer which you can’t understand, though you swear you hear the name ‘Joshua’ somewhere in the middle of it. The stranger’s lips quirk into a smirk as he glances over to you.

“My name’s Jeonghan,” he introduces himself at Seungkwan’s behest. You give him your own and find that the handshake the two of you exchange feels oddly formal in this setting. “Let’s go find Shua!” he proposes immediately after, handshake turning into him leading you through the crowd unexpectedly. Seungkwan yells something at him in his first language as he tails after the two of you.

Joshua, as it turns out, is sitting playing some card game you don’t recognize in one of the bedrooms with a handful of others. He looks up from his hand with evident surprise as you three of you burst in. You find yourself caught in the middle of a conversation you have no chance to following as the three boys carry on in Korean. Jeonghan releases your hand around the same time that Seungkwan leans into your shoulder in a gesture that seems like it’s solely so he can keep his tipsy self upright.

“Sorry,” Joshua tells you just as you’re beginning to feel truly lost and a little bit paranoid about what they’re discussing. He stands up from the game in order to speak to you directly. “Jeonghan is ---”

“I’m what?” Jeonghan doesn’t let him finish, slinging an arm around Joshua much as he’d done to Seungkwan not long ago.

“It’s okay,” you intervene, utterly uncertain what’s going on but hoping nevertheless that you can take this chance to switch the conversation into English. “It’s nice to see you.”

“You too.” Joshua smiles softly, and the expression shifts as soon as he glances to Seungkwan. It makes you feel like that fleeting look had been exclusively for you; that is was something quiet and meant to be kept between the two of you.

“How do you think the phonetics midterm went?” you ask, twisting the cap of your bottle back and forth idly.

“I have no idea! But could you believe one of the transcription exercises on it actually had the word ‘crush’ in it? I nearly gave up then and there,” he remarks. Up until that moment, you had forgotten about that particular part of the test. Though you had shared a similar feeling in the moment.

“How did you end up transcribing it?”

“With a caret, like you said.”

You burst with laughter and cover your eyes for a moment your free hand. “I used a schwa because of you!” you admit, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I guess we’ll find out which one’s right in the next week or so,” he laughs along with you.

You turn when you hear your name being called and send a quick wave in the boys’ direction before heading back out into the suite’s common room, where two of your friends are waiting with curious looks on their faces.

You don’t see Joshua for the rest of the night. Or rather, you don’t see Joshua again until hours later, when the bottle has long been emptied and you’ve started sobering up. You’ve switched your heels for the cloth flats you’d smartly thrown into your purse before leaving for the night and failed in convincing your friends who haven’t already left with somebody that it’s time to go.

You send a brief text that you’re leaving to the group chat to prevent any confusion before you begin your way down the staircase. It’s in the landing between floors three and four that you see Joshua again. He’s chatting with other students you don’t know, and you plan on slipping by without saying anything to him. In part because you know your hair and makeup must both be mussed up from the dancing you’d spent most the party doing.

You’re two steps down the next set of steps after passing by the group when his voice calls your name and draws you to a halt. With one hand holding the straps of your heels and the other one the handrail, you turn to face him. “Are you heading home alone?” he asks; there’s a different kind of concern in his tone than the one you’d heard from your friends.

“Yeah, it’s… less fun in there without being drunk.” The thought sounds worse out loud than it did in your head. But it makes Joshua laugh and sends you another one of those small smiles that you’ve officially decided are not good for your health with the way they make your heart flutter.

“Do you want someone to walk you?”

You don’t feel compelled to have someone go with you. You feel confident enough in the way home and lack fear in crossing campus alone at this hour from the number of times you’ve done it before. So, do you want someone to walk you? No. But do you want Joshua to go with you?

“That would be nice,” you say, smile growing in spite of yourself.

“Give me one minute to grab my stuff?” he requests. You nod. The moment he disappears, you lean back against the wall of the stairs as it dawns on you that you’ll be spending a good ten-minute walk alone with Joshua. The two of you hadn’t spent time alone since the study-session-turned-disaster.

True to his word, Joshua is coming back down the stairs before too much time passes. If he’d taken any longer, you think to yourself, you might have fled.

The awkwardness you fear will come never does. He asks you about where you’re from, about what made you want to study in the States. He’s patient when you struggle to find the exact words or syntax that you want. So much so that you’d say it doesn’t even require any patience on his part to sustain a conversation with you. You rally questions back at him and hang off every syllable of his answers.

It’s good that you both know the campus well enough that you can get away with spending most of the walk looking at one another rather than where you’re going.

He doesn’t work up the nerve to take your hand until the two of you are already at your building’s front door. The gesture keeps you from reaching into your purse for your keys. His hand sways back and forth with yours as you turn to face him with directly. “I’m sorry again, about Seungkwan and Jeonghan. They should know how frustrating it is to have people saying things you can’t understand right in front of you.”

“I’m not worried,” you try to prompt a smile back onto his features. “It would be self-centered to assume they were talking about me. I just… happened to be there.”

His head falls forward for a moment, blocking you from seeing most of the repentant look that crosses his face as he thinks of how wrong you are there. But he can’t bring himself to tell you that they were speaking almost exclusively about you.

“It’s a bit rude either way,” he tells you in place of any admissions.

You shrug and fail to find any words as Joshua lifts his eyes yours once again. There’s a shift in the atmosphere. A thin wire has been drawn between the two of you and is waiting simply for the right tug that will make the whole thing snap. You move a centimeter closer, testing just what will break the tension. The fingers laced with yours press a fraction firmer into your skin.

And then the moment is shattered by the door of your dorm digging into your back as it’s opened from the other side. You’re jostled forward, nearly into Joshua’s chest before you catch your balance. He releases your hand in the same instant.

“Sorry,” the girl leaving the building says casually as she passes the two of you by.

Deciding it’s a sign, you take hold of the door before it can close all the way. When you turn to bid him goodnight, you find he’s taken a step closer to come inside as well. You tell yourself he’s just taking the way home all the way to your own door. It would parallel the way he’d insisted upon walking you to the front door of his dorm before.

You pull your keys out of your purse while the two of you are still going up the stairs to your floor. When you reach your door, Joshua catches you off guard as he brushes a hand against one of the cut-outs of motivational words you and your roommate had put up in honor of midterm season. “This is cute,” he remarks, scanning over the rest of the decorations on your door. You fiddle with the key in your hand and tell him it was your roommate’s idea.

“Is she in?” he asks, turning at the shoulder to face you while his hand still rests against the glossy wood of your door.

“I don’t know,” is the only honest answer you can give. “I know she went out tonight but I’m not sure where.”

“Can I come in if she’s not?” is his next question, and this one you have no idea how to decipher. So you answer nonverbally, with the ambiguous combination of a shrug and a nod at the same time.

At least, you have no clue until Joshua provides a touch of clarification in the form of a soft kiss. Your heels and keys all clatter against the hallway floor as the affection makes you drop everything. He pulls away from you with a chuckle that’s warm against your still-parted lips.

He crouches down and picks the shoes and keys up for you. “Only if it’s okay with you,” he reassures as he hands your keys back out to you.

“It’s okay,” you say quickly, and avert your gaze to unlock your door.

When you flick on the lights, you’re embarrassed by how relieved you are that your roommate isn’t yet home. You give him an okay sign with your fingers and wave him inside.

Joshua closes the door behind him and sets the heels he’d picked up for you down beside the door, careful that they remain upright even once he’s released his hold. You toe off your flats and set your keys down on your desk.

He catches your stare while he’s shrugging off his jacket and sends you a new smile. It isn’t soft and secret like the ones you’d been melting over before. But it sends a spark down your spine all the same. As he comes close, you find yourself immersed once more in the that unnamed, pleasant cologne of his.

“Still okay?” he checks as his hands find their way to your hips.

“Definitely,” you respond, though your racing heart protests that it might not be okay if you end up bursting from the strange fortune midterm week has brought you this semester.

You only get a momentary glance at the smile your consent brings to his face before his kisses have you closing your eyes and surrendering to feeling.

But the chances for soaking in Joshua’s different smiles are far from over.

For instance, in about twenty minutes he’ll be smirking up at you from between your thighs and asking which IPA symbols you’d use to transcribe the first of moans he draws from your well-kissed lips.

#seventeen scenarios #joshua scenarios #seventeen imagines #hong jisoo scenarios

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yenni19 · 3 years

Text

Chapter 12

(This scene contains sexual language)

Phara looks down at her feet embarrassed as her own mate is right in front of her

Iroku(grabbing her hand): come with me you will be staying at my place from here on out....don't worry about the elders they are judgemental with everyone

Phara(nervous): but we are told to never stay in the mates home only at the communal house set up by the elders

Iroku: well if they want a promising shinobi child...they would have to abide by my rules....no questions asked....and besides I'm the one empregnating you

Phara(turning red): I don't think it's proper to talk vulgar in that way...

Iroku stops and turns to her, he notices through her thin veil she's embarrassed

Iroku: I always talk this way.....besides its not vulgar I'm just straight forward with words

Phara(bowing): My apologies sir...I didn't mean to upset you I'm any way....

Iroku(irritated): stop bowing and apologizing...I'm no king just a strong shinobi...taking on this task was not easy for me either

Phara: we were taught to apologize first even if we did no wrong.....

Iroku: don't treat me as a duty because of who you are....just treat me as a normal person...like a friend

Phara: ok.....I'll try my best

They arrive at Iroku's home, as she enters inside she is shocked at how organized and tidy everything looks

Phara: wow....its so clean....

Iroku: what did you expect a mess....if you didn't know I'm very high maintenance...I've been that way ever since childhood...thanks to my mother

Phara: sorry again.......I've heard stories by the other birthers that men were messy....and lacked any sense of cleaning up after themselves

Iroku: sorry to bust your bubble...but I was raised by a very strict woman....she taught me everything I know....and didn't like lazy children...productive children who knew housework was better than a rebellious messy one...or so I was told

Phara(looking around): oh you have books....but there nothing like the ones we read (walks over to pick one up) there more detailed and vibrant in color

Iroku(behind her): yeah they are stories or folktales passed down in paper formats....we like to keep occupied even though we are at war at the moment

Phara(turning to face him): your so tall....and very broad shouldered...(touches his chest) were you always tall even as a kid?

Iroku(nervous): yeah as a twelve year old I look fourteen and when I hit the seventeen mark I looked twenty after that I stopped growing

Phara(taking off her head covering): well...you said to take my head covering off once we were alone....

Iroku(mesmerized): you....look.......beautiful.....your hair is a dirty dark blue with blond tips halfway down (cups her face) your eyes are a refined Grey like the clouds on a rainy day....you even have a beautiful figure......

She kisses him and he receives her kiss, he picks her up and takes her to the bedroom, she takes off his shirt once placed on the edge of the bed

Phara: your chest is so big (grabs his hand) and your hands are larger than mine

Iroku: is that a problem?

Phara(embarrassed): no I was always told that men with large hands.....had a way with women

Iroku(smiling): well let me undress you and you'll find out...I can't hold back any longer

Iroku undresses Phara, she stands there nervous as he undresses himself, she blushes as she stares at his shaft

Phara(tomato red): you are so big how will.....

Iroku: not yet I have to please you first....

He kisses her as she is in a sitting position, Phara moans as he is strumming her insides with his large fingers careful not to make her lose her virginity

Phara(aroused): what are you doing......ahhhh....nnnnoooo....not there

Iroku: let me help you relax Phara....its the only way I'll enter you

Phara(out of breath): ok.....ahhhhhh......I can't take it I feel a tingling sensation

Iroku(stopping himself): good your pulsating against my fingers....time to enter you

Phara(aroused): ok....enter me I can't hold myself back anymore.....

Iroku enters his shaft inside Phara, she stiffens just a little but lossens up as he starts moving inside her, Phara moans as he moves faster causing them both to climax

Iroku(tired): I never expected sex to be this exciting....what about you?

Phara(nervous): it was the loviest time of my life....you had me speachless and you were amazing....I don't want it to end

Iroku(grabbing her and sitting her up): fine I guess we continue where we left off....

He kisses her as he softly pinches her nipples, Phara moans and he chuckles as she enjoys his sexual affection towards her

Phara(moaning): Iroku I feel that funny feeling again....

Iroku: just lose yourself to that pleasurable feeling....trust me it's better than the first....

Phara turns to him kissing him fiercely on his lips, she sits on his lap as she positions his shaft inside her, she moans as she sits on top of his shaft rubbing against it

Phara: I'm pulsating again Iroku....I can't stop moving on top of you....I feel like I'll lose it....

Iroku: it's ok just finish.....keep going I'm almost there.....

They climax for the second time....Phara and Iroku hold eachother as they lay down on the bed

Phara: it was the best the second time around...Iroku....I think I'm falling for you

Iroku: it's ok....I think I love you Phara....

They spend the rest of the evening together in bed with one another

------------------------------

The Uzumakis and Uchihas are in the living room hearing Phara's story

Phara(smiling): for the first time in my life I experienced love so pure and honest. Iroku Minato's father was everything I wanted in a man....honest pure with his emotions....always willing to lend a hand.....and very protective of me....even if it was going to be a short time with the Namikaze clan I wanted to cherish moments like the ones I had with Iroku....but everything changed once I had Minato and Iroku was forced into taking in a wife he never loved....and after that I was forced to leave the clan and sent back to the birthing temple....leaving the product of our love with him.....and his new wife....then a year later I met Rozu my second mate....we didn't see eye to eye but he showed me love in a different manner....by small gestures or small compliments he was a hard shell to crack

Phara goes back to the time she and Rozu met under dire consequences, Phara was with the elders of the Uchiha clan as she witnessed the hier of the clan argue with his father

Rozu(angry): I will lead the clan but with no hier....I don't need a woman telling me what to do father!

Uchiha elder: you need an hier....and the birthers are the up most respected women....she can give you a strong Uchiha child...

Rozu: I said I don't want one so send her away.....for all I know under that head covering she might be ugly....

Irritated Phara took off her head covering, Rozu who wouldn't shut up, stood there in silence as the crowd gasped to see her face

Phara(angry as she approaches Rozu): does this face look ugly to you....because the only ugly thing i see in this room is your attitude...so if I were you I would make a change starting with that attitude of yours

Rozu(mesmerized): you....how dare you....do you know who......

Phara: no I don't know who you are.....but I know one thing....I don't think this arrangement will work out (walking out of the communal home) I'm leaving and going home.......because I'm too ugly for the new leader of this clan

Uchiha elder: please you are our last chance....don't turn us down like every birther has.....we need you to produce an hier....I know my son is rough around the edges but just stay a week....just one week to prove he has a soft side

Phara: alright....a week....but if nothing changes...I'm going home

The elders leave and she is stuck with Rozu....the roughest of the group....but Phara wasn't that innocent girl anymore...after what happened she became cold as well and tougher than most birthers

Phara(walking to her room): I'm going to bed...see you...

Rozu(grabs her hand): why would you even want to....I'm liberating you from your duties as a birther...you don't have to be here

Phara: even if i was sent away....another of my sisters would be brought here....and I wouldn't live with myself if you treated them wrong....so id rather stay and play it out to see where this goes

Rozu: why do you care for them....and those stupid head maidens....they obligate you to have sexual relations with strangers like a whore in a brothel....

Phara(turns around and slaps him): we are not whores.....we are birthers made to give birth to children of the clans since we are no longer useful to the Otsutsuki (pulls her arm away) how dare you disrespect our culture

She runs into her room and shuts the door, she sits there crying the rest of the night, she wakes up and makes breakfast only to find a meal ready for her by Rozu

Phara(picking up the note): I'll be back.....had clan meetings...don't wait up for me...your allowed to roam town if you like....with or without your head covering....I won't force you to wear it (sighs and she puts down the note) so he does care....he's such a troublemaker

She heads out to see the town, she was amazed of how many stands there were and how lively the people were

Phara: so where to start.....oh I know the fruit stand

She goes to the fruit stand and picks out mango, strawberries, and kiwi she pays for them and walks around town before heading home, once she gets there she cuts up the fruit and places it neatly on the plate and writes 'thank you' on the note Rozu already wrote on with a smiley face

Phara(smiling): hope he likes it.....

Rozu(behind her as he enters the house): hope who likes it?

Phara picks up the plate and walks over to him, as she gets close she slips and Rozu tries catching her, but instead he ends up on top of her

Phara: sorry for the mess......

Rozu: its fine....I'm not upset

Phara: Rozu your staring at me

Rozu: I know...I can't stop looking...because I want you Phara....right here and now

Phara(admitting): so do I....Rozu....now take me and deflower me.....

Rozu kisses her intently and she kisses back wanting more of him. She moans as he undresses her on the very floor and touches her intimate spot she screams

Phara: oh Rozu...not there im sensitive right now!

Rozu: I want to kiss every part of you....

Phara(gasping): then do it....take me and fulfill my desires

He licks her clitoris making Phara scream in pleasure he lifts her up on his waist and carries her to the room continuing the foreplay

Rozu: why do u captivate me Phara?

Phara(heavily breathing): because Uchiha boy....I'm different from other women...I don't submit easily

He continues by stroking her and she moans at the sensation of it, building up the climax she moans louder as he strokes faster

Phara(on top of him): I can't take it anymore....fill me with your shaft

Rozu(sitting up): then have your fill....I'll enjoy it too

She starts moving as she is already on top of him his shaft hard enough going deep inside her, within minutes they climax as they finish laying together

Rozu(out of breath): Phara.....I want you to run away with me....before you give birth.....I heard about you and the Namikaze guy.....I want to save you from a heartbreak.....I want a life with you Phara.....a family filled with happiness....when I saw you take off your covering I saw a rare beauty like never before....Phara I fell in love with you the moment I laid eyes on you

Phara(facing Rozu): really....you want a life with me....a birther....

Rozu: yes....I won't stand it if you had to go through falling in love again if it's not me.....then you can run away with me and we start fresh

Phara(crying): thank you Rozu....thank you for loving me eventhough we just met

#fan fic related #anime #comics

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castlehead · 6 years

Text

:a Not which one is right but which one is more like you Let's start now // this is a few makeshifts on the deity,

dint realize y i was gettin poor marks in college till i realized comic sans wasnt mla format for essays, but i kept on with it bc im anti establishment and my dope ass literary insights should speak for themselves.

my 'experimentation' as one nonplussed professor put it, with the font, progressively got crazier, and in the end i was doin all caps zapf wingdings mized wih herculanum

needless to say, i got my degree.. IN BEIN A BOSS.

na but yeah i got kicked out of that school. still bummin on campus actually, and probably psychotic from this ecstasy i keep taking. this guy in f comp makes his own, has a pill press nd everything.

the shoes i original got as a college present from my parents got stolen, or in any case i woke up in a snow drift next to the commons dumpster without them on, so i just wear slippers. my toes are purple. ther always feels like there is something in my teeth or throat i cannot dislodge. i am the campus transient, avoiding th. RAs and ignoring the eviction notices. like raping the willing, one cannot be evicted if one is homeless. with the help of a few friends i sold drugs to when my rents still gave me money and i was still enrolled, i alternate between various dormitory hovels, hiding out from the campus police like some ghastly dysfunctional version of anne frank.

i havent taken my pills and smell. i emaciate my already rejected body, rejected by the establishment goons, with cocaine, and remind myself of the leftover chicken carcass and neatly lined bones whose tomb was a disgusting box of dominos buffalo wings i ordred and consumed my first semester here and that remained in the same place until i abandoned that radioactive dormroom to die slowly and painfully, and metaphorically, since living quarters do not possess life. i am starting tho to wonder if i myself possess that as well or if i did once and now am but a structure, a part of the collegiate landscape, sniffed at by diligent students and attempted to get thru to by intellectual slackers, decadent addicts themselves on their way to where i am, and wooks who need someone to smoke with on a sunday 4 am and know i always keep track of what festis are goin on on campus; i receive the next round of empathy from a new stranger who maybe heard of me or has seen me around and wondered what i was still doing here.

empathy, empathy, curiosity as to the quirky insane dude fried by mdma and a shitload of adderall for no purpose bc i have no practical skills. a monotony of empathy ripping off and using for the metaphorical shit on my metaphorical ass, like swquares of toilet paper who fancy me a hobo poet in need of on top of text books i never opened, on a desk i used as a trash receptacle. and speaking of wings, i think i might be literally going into a dissociative state because all the leaves on the trees look like zapf wingdings. my clavicle is not only visible but sticks out of my body further than my chest does.

watch out for hell day today, for something godlier than god. i deliver it.

The effect I wish to give, as it always has been, is that of a truth clearly viewed, in utter horror. Gods factotum, shuffling thru abandoned files that sometime held a secret forgotten, tho no less true now, and the horror perhaps, that we forgot something so crucially, fundamentally true, and so long ago.

this work is twisted, sad, manic, strange, fluid, stilted, inappropriate, foolish, magnificent.

if god doesnt exist, neither does the version of myself with dreadlocks

. . . . . . .

one has no choice in the end but to resign oneself, and drop their head. and yet, where do they look, if one in shrinking away for the purpose of humbling hisself afore the god of anxiety, and receiving his respite, knows nothing more than but to resign? where is the clarity here? there is no clarity 'here'. it is there, and come upon in moments of fear and trembling at the dread chaos, the doubt in a heart and split in a mind.

it is there, for one is staring at the ground, awaiting an end to the necessary aversion from the sight of a higher morsel of GOD.

. . . . . . .

atheism should not be an opinion it is not the result of not believing in god it is simply living life without a thought as to a religious god. we are not reacting to religion we are IN reality just as the catholic is IN reality. saying "I don't believe in god" is like equating nothingness to a lack of everything. there is no reactive state to atheism at its purest. it is not an acknowledgment, in other words, of no god, but an acknowledgment of what is before one's eyes, this vast neutral space I defy you to say is different from the religious folks' apprehension of objects and desires, all before them, swimming in ghostly revelry or not, only figurations anyway. o this insanely divided world.

i have a secular conception of god based on my teleological hypotheses re the nature of a causa prima, causa sui. it's the definitions that need defining, not the thing with a name on it that needs explaining. physics already does that.

remove intent for the case of nihilism, and you will have what i am saying here. no case at all. no 'response' so to speak. atheism can be evangelical

im not an evangelical atheist because what i believe changes based on the day but is always just as real haha. belief is tenuous. i go by that

it's the definitions that need defining, not the thing that needs explaining.

my conception of god is that it is the only thing that does not exist. so in a way, yes, i am an atheist.

'God' as defined in its easiest terms, is an ultimate uniquity. like, an outstanding substance. anyway, idk. at the end of the day idk haha

Kant's own a priori notional form of perception comes to mind. in front of our eyes is what is real. the observer initiates the ocular nerve, and the thing or situation burns into the receiving blankness of the mind.

like, have we reaped all the possible benefits of fire by now? surely the wails of prometheus fall not on deaf ears!

. . . . . . .

twisted, sad, manic, strange, fluid, stilted, inappropriate, foolish, magnificent.

. . . . . . .

green tortilla chips my ass. he said with no attempt at disguising incredulity, wiping the tears from his brow.

. . . . . . .

whereas god is all, i am only myself, knowledgeable of only myself; therefore, unless god is simultaneously aware of being myself alone along with being everything, and of that everything knowledgeable of each and every thing as if god were only that thing, i am then let in on an experience of individuality that god is unaware of.

this is a question of how to be the most purely omniscient, omnipotent, etc. that is the question that our conception of god is asking.

corollary: if in the case of being simultaneously the experience i have of myself, and being all, then it is quite logical to say that our experience in life is in fact a godly experience, since i, too, would be unaware of being all, as goes the route of any human perception of things.

when i say i am only aware of myself i mean it in ontological terms, fyi -and also in, i will admit, somewhat absolutist terms. of course as people, psychologically, we can put ourselves in another's shoes, step outside of our comfort zone, change an opinion [or five] and every person is an environmental sponge -we can adopt varying personality traits from the culture we is born into etc. -this argument presupposes an absolute view, kinda,- in that, IF this were how it went, it wld go such nd such -this statement of mine does not examine a phenomenological or spiritual connection between people but examines the relativity and possible logical gaps in -the idea, or notion if you prefer- of omniscience.- there is only theory haha <#

we create our gods but they exist as much as we do

. . . . . . .

turn your back, find yourself faceless, at least, to someone.

. . . . . . .

wondering if I got a problm w. th prostate bc sometimes when I feel a shit coming I piss n it goes away. Don't change much re bathroom routine tho since I already sit down wen I pee in the first place, and according to my second ex wife this means I am a lazy fat whore

interested in the concept of the devout as being the truest sceptics.

. . . . . . .

Thought has the coherence of being but is not being, i.e. beginning and ending in our living heads as something not itself alive, but a mere transfer of connection willed consciously to create that inert unbreathing grand called the magnificent bullshit, the idea.

the quiet horror of the mundane dailyness.

. . . . . . .

i think something elitist and say within, Well that was elitist wasnt it, dan. then pat myself on the back at my ability to check my arrogance, specifically when i see the thought thru the lens of something a cousin of mine with generally liberal views and empathy who fishes in alaska for money and lives off the grid would remark to himself. then, i get slightly nauseated after mentally leafing thru all the times i have been proud of mentally criticizing myself for something in the first place outwardly bad. and there goes on the circular drudge of ugliness, not evaded outright, but felt the pangs of guilt in the says within, that say me again and again in my inertial brood, of void i would hope, of searching for clarity i wish, but that is probably more like a moralizing, limited gauge, like feeling better about something ugly that is yr fault by feeling bad about it for a little so you can get that part over with without the possibility of another harder wave of guilt for not feeling bad at all about the ugly thing, and therewith reacting with doubts to doubtful reactions, until yr whole value system is a wilderness of mirrors.

. . . . . . .

im a perfectionist when it comes to sensation. the beautiful feeling must be experienced in the proper setting that would maximize its potential. i think this is y i used to do lots of drugs, which by nature are the commodification of sensations. probably also y i was super miserable doing them and kept doing them despite that. there is a certain ring of the hoarder or magpie in this perfectionism that wants to connect physicality with ego that i see as well in the idea of paying money to literally feel specific sensations; equally, the result of this on the psyche is as tenuous here as with the futile idea of thinking the perfect setting for doing drugs is always at hand, which it rarely is, or at the least there is something to mar the perfect dream, that dragon, that pursuit of happiness, life, and liberty via thinking on how best situate the chains to, in essence, 'maximize' your mobility, but nathless remaining held in doom. the drug world, uh, is itself volatile; perfectionism and volatility dont jive so well, usually. and so on. hm. hegh.

heh.

. . . . . . .

I only like Eminem rap and that one NWA song like hell naw the rest is garbage now let me go back to my trailer in the woods where I live in harmony with the Elves who have seemed to appear more frequently now that I have that bathtub meth dungeon set up in my basement where skynerd plays ceaselessly from an unlocatable place. My hero is Ed Gein. But I don't do the lampshade thing. I do however have a human skull I bought from my buddy who owns a war relics and parephernalia shop, he had to go in the back to get it and lock the store so nobodys would come snoop. Turns out some folks comed snoop to see if he figured any more available and he got mad at me for blabbing, an I said, Giles, ya know I ain't blabbing, but he dint believe it, an now we just kinder avoid each other at the local NA meetin. People tryn cop there and some do and theys go behind the water tower tagitit, I int do that part tho, a tad fucked up I mean, these people try n getting clean an all, why make it harder n it eyis? But if y'all wanit I get it tiya, come by and share a chaw almighty God. Gib ye a gude price too. *PATOOEY* I. Uh am sober myself. 20 yrs. but damn ye ye make a buck more n working garbage detail selling home cooked meth I reckon ye. Don't touch the stuff I don't anymore after I heard this queer fella from out a town got his arm chopped off when he mainlined eyit. Tryn I guess do some sex stuff and a days travel from the city. City folk don't know it's diffeRent strength down here's doe. I reckon. *MEDITATIVE PATOOEY* yes sirn. Huhm.

. . . . . . .

The thing abt the Sex Pistols is, tho they engineered the punk genre immeasurably, they seem to no longer be in the cultural conversation, except within factions of grey haired aficionados. Even the more radio friendly The Clash seems notably absent in this regard. Has punk developed beyond its early stages, or is punk, being the genre that it is, dependent on whatever the moments youth zeitgeist is? punk is visceral because it is held in time this way. first gen punk, cbgbs headliners of ago and ago, do not exert these days the same walbreaking feel, bc I think there's so much virtuosic music being made today that the path of what will develop is harder to determine. Musicians in throes break down walls without batting an eye. Any musical iconoclasm expressed in the music of the past, then, especially to the contemporary ear, is bound to seem bathetic. Like microaggressions as expressions of racism, our society's opening of mind leads to a closed mind, as one can justify not being racist by simply saying they do not think they are better than marginalized peoples, have never done anything racist, think we are all equal, are not clansmen lol. what ruffles feathers is less obvious, in turn, bc expressions of the ersatz new and the real new are harder and harder to determine. The surplus of media, ideas, and opinions, I think, will lead us to a place where "cultural norm" becomes an oxymoron, hopefully. But then, what else will be left to invigorate, if so much is already so much done out, already? Does there exist a perspective, artistic or no, that is not liable to become passé? Or even some thought never thought before? I know there is, I for one know there is, because as a poet I see much to fix, and much that I work to do bc I see it nowhere else; and this most crucially is not an impression of mine based on today's lit but every days lit there has ever been, throughout history. Just I can literally not even yo, yo

. . . . . . .

Mathsmatics can transcend thru the grandeur of its implications but not thru the means towards said implications; philo can do the same, but it's better penchant is for transcending thru means to electrify a mundane conclusion or give a system of reason to a general thought-trope such as, "reality is an illusion" or whichever flat idea u prefer to follow. Since it is pure logos, philo differs from math in being more readily universal; tho the applications of math are more readilly useful than the positives that come with mental clarity at the understanding an achieved unified system. Poetry is all means, so then must dazzle, and needs no evidence, conclusion, or even subject, but need only sway with beauty. Therein is the problem with the existential issue of selfhood. Reductive analysis of self becomes psych, and the only pure philo to be had in selfhoods exegesis is not to be found in anything like a system of proofs or syllogisms, etc. selfhood, as Kierkegaard recognized, is poetic bc it exacerbates reality, exhausts all of it. it is individual, and so copious a thing has no one forged path to what it is, or even any path at all, to what it is, since like Pascals God the self is a circle whose point is everywhere and circumference nowhere. Figuring out a reality via a teleology or thru logic is nicer to attempts at systems. But individual self is too mucky for any proof to say it exists; the murkiness shines, as it always does, when the means are prevalent, since the means, being held moment to moment, rely on nothing but expose a variety of paths to more variety. Philo then is better at least than Math for finding out something obfuscated, but nothing but poetry can so deeply probe the self, as its humility is lain in the respect for a complete dissembling of systems.

. . . . . . .

the iconic ny jewish deli sandwich is in essence a robust mountain of roast beef held feebly between two unnecessary pieces of sad, chickenshit marble rye

the roast beef, of course, wld be kosher.

I create; I waste. Yet nothing is perfect, nothing, nothing. Not even dignity.

#prose #collage #frammenti #zibaldone #makeshift #god #god n stuff #prowse #writing

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spam-stan · 6 years

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Hello @woozidimples, it’s me your sss! I apologize for such a late reveal, my computer crashed and i had to quickly start over but it’s 2:30 am and i finally finished! I tried to include what I thought you might like into everything and hope this is alright. this oneshot is 2,190 words so it’s pretty long. It might have an abrupt ending and i apologize, I will also revise in the morning so this is my unrevised, present to you and I hope you like it. Also i just used the name on your profile and hoped for the best, if otherwise wanted I can change it. i hope your holiday was amazing and you deserve the absolute best ! (also the format of this might suck it’s my first time posting my writing on here and i don’t know how to really and it’s almost 3 am.)

merry christmas indeed.

its christmas eve and both you and jihoon were at his studio. he had insisted working on something for the boys he had told you (‘i won’t work long, tee’ ‘i’m coming with you’ ‘tee-’ ‘c’mon slow poke’ and cue your giggles and a door slam with jihoon chasing after you) and you’d be damned if you werent going to spend tonight with him. but in the end, he had only worked fifteen minutes with his headphones on before he sat with you on the couch he put in there recently. you ordered takeout from one of the only restaurants open (just some bulgogi, sweet potato noodles, a side of kimchi and some rice you were craving) and he put on a movie on his not so big screen. he had a blanket in there from when you had visited one time a while back. you both giggled softly and ate the food (tipping the worker far more than needed when he brought it), finishing the first movie before putting on a more romantic movie per request from you. (read: “c’mon today is suppose to be romantic.” “darling, that’s tomorrow.” “please, hoonie.” “…fine”). though, halfway through the movie you knocked out and your boyfriend smiled softly kissing your forehead before continuing to watch the movie, tucking you closer to him. only, he too fell asleep not long after you did. now pan to seungcheol and soonyoung who each tried to contact you both. they were all going to bed and needed to know if either of you had keys to get back into the door, but alas their efforts were to no avail. so they got into one of the vans, seungcheol driving (luckily the road were clean) and soonyoung in the passengers seat. they got to the studio not far from the dorms and soonyoung got out going to get you guys. “I’ll be back, I’ll call if i need help,” he nodded and then shut the door going up to his studio. he opened the door and let out a soft giggle at the sight, the credits rolling, the takeout boxes on his chair, and both of you snuggled up close. he turned everything off and cleaned the trash, mindful of being quiet as to not wake the either of you. he then called the leader and waited until he was up to try to pick you both up, not wanting to wake the either of you. “i can take tee and you take jihoon,” the eldest murmured to soonyoung who nodded. he helped remove the blanket and seungcheol leaned down picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist before the other put a blanket over you. soonyoung then sat between jihoon’s legs, back to his chest, and wrapped his legs around his waist before he grabbed his arms and wrapped it around his neck. stirring in his sleep, jihoon lifted his head and muttered something incoherent before seungcheol threw a blanket over his head and softly patted the soft locks and he fell back to sleep, shifting and clinging onto soonyoung better. “im surprised tee hasnt woken up yet,” the choreographer whispered as he glanced at your undisturbed sleeping figure. the leader laughed softly and nodded, walking out after soonyoung, shutting the light off and closing the door. they took the elevator down (as it was easier and faster than walking down the stairs) and walked out to the car. seungcheol was the first to set one of the two of you down, fixing you so you seemed comfortable. he then helped soonyoung take the smaller off his back and into the van. he fixed him as well and then they got into the car, seungcheol humming softly as he drove, looking through the rearview mirror every few seconds until arriving at the dorms in the short ride there.

soonyoung got jihoon once more with the help of the other conscious member, walking inside and taking the elevator up. seungcheol then took you in his arms as he had when picking you up before. “this is like the four time im doing this, this month,” he complained softly to himself before you stirred and he panicked, stopping his movements until you settled back down.

when the male finally got inside the doors he took you to your boyfriends room, mindful of the other sleeping members (mingyu and jeonghan each sprawled out on their respective beds) and tucked you in next to him, softly brushing your hair from your face with a yawn.

The next morning you woke up, couldn’t have been earlier than 7 am or later than 9 am, eyes slowly blinking open. You shifted your head a bit and looked up, finding a smiling jihoon looking at you with a soft, fond look. you rubbed your eyes and smiled softly as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, “good morning, tee. how’d you sleep?” he questioned you softly, voice gruff from the lack of use.

“Really good, how about you, oppa,” you joked softly, wiggling your eyebrows and giggling at the name despite the early hours. Jihoon rolled his eyes and softly poked your side from where it was softly placed over your body from inside the warm duvet. “I slept fine, stupid,” he muttered before he shuffled down more a bit, eye level with you before you buried your face against his neck and he kissed the top. you don’t remember falling asleep but you wake up what feels like an hour later but in reality is only 10 minutes, “merry christmas, jihoonie.” you murmured softly, voice thick with sleep causing your boyfriend to smile and whisper a soft ‘merry christmas’ against your hair.

you then looked up and around the room, brows furrowed as he noticed, smiling with a soft chuckle. “Everyone else already woke up, they’re eating breakfast, hungry,” he questioned softly petting your hair. “yeah, just let me stretch and steal some of ‘cheol’s clothes,” you murmured before you heard him scoff and mutter a soft ‘im your boyfriend’ making you laugh, softly hitting his shoulder as you shook your head. “yeah, id take your clothes if there were any clean clothes, so dont complain,” you hummed, softly stroking his cheek as you looked him in the eyes.

you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, smiling against the soft skin before pulling away and sitting up. you went over to the leaders clothes, grabbing a pair of his smaller sweats and a long sleeve, stealing a pair of antlers off of the second oldest’s bed. quickly changing once your boyfriend left the room you walked out and smiled seeing the youngest walk by in a pajama set with candy canes all over it.

you sat at the couch curled up at the corner, wonwoo sat not too far, head bobbing a bit from sleepiness. you giggled quietly seeing the rustling of all the members, calling their families and friends, getting breakfast ready and grabbing the presents to put under the tree. you had spent christmas a week prior at your parent’s house as they were leaving on holiday and werent going to be there for christmas. jihoon had already visited a month prior and they gave gifts then, facetiming the night before when they were at the studio waiting for food.

“good morning, tee,” came a soft gruff from next to you before you felt a weight fall on you and let out a whine. “wha-” you then saw a tuff of brown hair and fairy-like ears, “hao! you lazy,” you giggled loud before giving up and huffing, leaning your head back down and watching the members again. you smiled as jihoon walked over to you, a bowl of cereal for you in his hands, and then sat down in the spot between you and wonwoo. he gently flicked the headband making you scrunch your nose up in a smile, shaking your head a bit as you muttered a small thank you.

after everyone had finished you helped clean the kitchen with the two korean-american members, loudly singing christmas songs (with the help of seokmin in the background). afterwards, everyone gathered in the living room and you sat on the floor between your red haired boyfriend’s legs, his hands instantly playing with your hair, smiling wide at the feeling. after a good hour full of laughter and pranks (mingyu wrapping minghao’s present [a gift card] up and then putting it in a box, wrapping it, into another box, wrapping it, into another, and after wrapping that one into the biggest one, wrapped pretty with a bow on the corner) the members had all exchanged gifts.

but then suddenly they all turned to you and you noticed there were still some left, and the members suddenly started throwing and attacking you with love and presents screaming merry christmas. (“ow! chan!” “oh my gosh tee im so sorry i didnt-” “you got my eyeball!” then cue the other members laughing as jihoon examined your eye) everyone then helped clean up the mess and you moved onto the couch, presents still unopened at your feet except jihoon’s which was on your lap. a pair of sound blocking headphones identical to his besides your name neatly written on them obviously by jihoon.

you had given him a simple bracelet with his name engraved in it and a new notebook to write in.

everyone was just walking about in the doorm while you and jihoon stayed on the couch watching a random christmas movie along with the performance unit and wonwoo who was curled up more asleep than awake even after the gift giving and receiving. you ran your hands through his hair and he smiled, humming softly as he gently bumped your noses together. “i want to redye my hair,” he whispered, not because he needed to but because he felt he would ruin the soft moment by speaking too loudly despite his honey voice.

“why? you just dyed your hair not too long ago,” you reminded, admiring the bright colour on his head. he only shrugged, grabbing your hair and smiling as he giggled, “maybe the same colour as yours?” you shook your head with a soft laugh, smiling wide as he stroked your hair. “what have the fans been asking for,” you questioned before he replied with a simple ‘black’.“is hansol here,” you questioned him, jihoon shaking his head and informing you that him and seungkwan went on a coffee and lunch run for everyone. so you called him.

“vernon, do you happen to have any hair dye from when your hair was black anymore,” you crossed your fingers in hope but whined when he said no. “but I’ll stop by the shop and get black dye from one of the noonas,” he promised before hanging up. you guys then continued to sit and admire each other before you buried yourself against your boyfriend and he took your antlers off, rubbing your back when you fell asleep. he set your head on wonwoo’s thigh after getting up to use the restroom, only to be woken up by vernon moments later with the dye and gloves and brush to apply. he explained what the noona had said to do and you nodded, ruffling his hair as you sat up waiting for your boyfriend, getting everything ready to do.

when he came back he raised his brow at you and you said nothing, patting between your legs on the floor. so he sat down and squeaked as he felt the cold dye on his hair, gasping a bit before he relaxed a while after. “youre going to look so handsome, hoonie,” you cooed as you continued, your boyfriend rolling his eyes with a laugh. “are you calling me ugly now,” he questioned jokingly, making you scoff and gently shove him with your elbow. everyone was watching helping to get it even by telling you how to spread it or where to put more.

once you finished you went to the bathroom and washed it off, shaving down the hairs that needed to be cleaned on his neck. you then helped rewash and fix his damp hair when finished. sitting together on his bed afterwards, his hair in a beanie with a giggle as you both spoke, you far more annoyed than him.

“hoon, i am just saying the mullet needs to go,” you whined as he shook his head with a laugh. “nope i like it,” he argued, wiggling his brows. you laughed and shook your head. the rest of the day was spent singing karaoke in the living room and lots of fond cuddling between you and your boyfriend.

you ran your hand into his hair and smiled, softly kissing him as you murmured a final merry christmas and him to you before knocking out on the couch. (now enters seungcheol and soonyoung who both look at the two of you and scoff, leaving you both to sleep there.) (not before the eldest runs back and covers you both with a quick ruffle of each of your hair.)

#mine #oneshot #svt #sss #2017 #sorry for such a late gift im terrible

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