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cutiejihyo · 9 months

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Need lil!jihyo being taken care of by misamo cause 2yeon unnies are out busy with little!smc 🥺

I can imagine a temper tantrum coming from jihyo cause 2yeon isn't there, but eventually warms up to japanese line and ends up asleep on one of their chests 😭💗

with twice’s busy schedule, free days were hard to come by. so when the girls found out all 9 of them had a free day coming up soon, they immediately started planning what to do. eventually they all came to the conclusion that they should just stay home and relax, since they rarely get that opportunity anyways.

once the free day actually came up, 4 out of the 9 members woke up regressed. this included jihyo, dahyun, chaeyoung, and tzuyu. unfortunately for jihyo, she slept in way later than usual, both nayeon and jeongyeon leaving her with the j-line as they took the youngest three members out to the park.

jihyo walked into the main room of the dorm, still in her pajamas, looking for nayeon and jeongyeon. momo, who was sitting on the couch, quickly realized who jihyo was looking for. "nayeonie and jeongyeon left a while ago, i'm sorry honey." she felt bad for jihyo, knowing how much she relied on the two oldest members while she was regressed.

after hearing this not-so-good news, jihyo threw herself to the ground. she sat in a ball, not saying a single word. momo looked wildly confused at the little, along with sana who just walked into the room.

suddenly, jihyo started thrashing around and crying, slamming her fists on the hard wooden floor and kicking her feet intensely. momo and sana exchanged worried glances as they rushed to jihyo's side, trying to calm her down as best as they could. momo gently placed a hand on jihyo's back, while sana crouched down in front of her.

"jihyo, it's okay," sana said softly, knowing how upset the poor girl must've felt. "we're here for you. nayeon and jeongyeon will be back soon, i promise."

unfortunately, jihyo's tantrum seemed to escalate, her cries becoming louder and more frantic. she continued to thrash and kick, her emotions overwhelming her immensely.

just then, mina appeared in the doorway after hearing jihyo's sobs. "is everything alright?" she asked, instantly sensing that the leader was regressed, and very clearly not happy.

"she misses nayeon and jeongyeon, they left earlier, remember?" momo reminded mina, to which she received an understanding look from the girl. she knew how much jihyo relied on the two oldest members when she's little, so it's reasonable that she'd be upset.

mina thought a bit before looking down at jihyo, "how about we take care of you until unnies come back? we can have lots of fun together, you know," she smiled and put a hand on jihyo's back, watching her think about what mina said.

the little sniffled, realizing that she can still have fun, even without nayeon and jeongyeon around. "otay.." she nodded and rubbed at her teary eyes, trying to stop crying.

momo and sana looked at each other with a relieved look, hoping that jihyo will stay calm for the remainder of the time that her caregivers are gone. "alright, how about some hide and seek?" momo proposed, knowing the regressed girl loved that game. she instantly nodded and giggled before running off, already feeling much better.

after some time, all four of them were on the couch when they heard the front door click, signaling the return of nayeon and jeongyeon (and the other 3 members). once the two walked into the main room, their hearts melted at the sight.

jihyo was laying on momo's chest, fast asleep and as content as she could be. luckily, she got tired out from playing games with her temporary caregivers, surprising all three of them when she crawled into momo's lap.

nayeon couldn't help but take a few pictures, her little girl looked absolutely adorable all snuggled up against the japanese girl.

"i'm so sorry, we wouldn't have left her here if we knew she was regre-" jeongyeon was cut off by sana, "please, don't worry about it, she was wonderful for the most part.." she chuckled, looking back to jihyo's tantrum.

#gigi writes 🦝#kpop agere #sfw agere #agere #age regression #twice agere #little jihyo

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queenlua · 3 years

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Ace Attorney case tier list

so, in the past year, i finished replaying games 1 through 5 for the first time in forever, and also played game 6 for the first time ever

so here’s where i ruthlessly rank each of the cases based on that most scientific metric of all, My Opinions:

OPENING CASES

S-tier: Turnabout Trump (4-1). I already knew this case, and I still gasped with surprise when Phoenix showed up, and when Kristoph showed his true colors, and when Apollo realized OH SHIT OH FUCK I REALLY AM ACCUSING MY BOSS OF MURDER HUH... what a wonderful, splashy, shockingly concise case to open up the post-O.G. trilogy world. Marvelous.

A-tier: Turnabout Memories (3-1). Seeing Mia Fey (finally!) in action is a long-awaited delight; seeing Phoenix being a total dumbass was an unexpected-yet-perfect and fitting delight.

B-tier: The First Turnabout (1-1). Solid lil’ case with some conventional-but-well-executed humor. I’ve got a soft spot for Larry Butz.

C-tier: The Lost Turnabout (2-1), The Foreign Turnabout (6-1). The former’s fine but a little forgettable; the latter has some fun gags (Payne’s ridiculous new outfit, dude absolutely shredding on the mandolin, etc) but is marred by how uh... kinda silly the game’s core conceit is, lol

E-tier: Turnabout Countdown (5-1). The context surrounding this introduction is just sloppy (badly handled in media res + let’s lowkey retcon game 4 isn’t a great setup), and also the case itself is just. irksome. ted tonate is just fundamentally irritating to look at

FINALE CASES

S-tier: Bridge to the Turnabout (3-5), Turnabout Goodbyes (1-4). No explanation needed. God they fuck so hard

A-tier: The Cosmic Turnabout + Turnabout for Tomorrow (5-4 + 5-5), Turnabout Succession (4-4).

The former two cases are what makes AA5 worth it, and they make for a tremendously fun ride. It fumbles the execution in some notable ways (Apollo’s sudden j’accuse moment feels a little forced/awkward/inadequately foreshadowed, and damn it sure would’ve been nice to know Clay Terran at all before he died, and also The Phantom’s final meltdown could’ve used a bit more emotional heft)... but okay let’s be real, I’m here for Simon Blackquill, and this case gives me so much of him so who gives a shit. (And Aura! Condescending obnoxious engineering queen! I love her!)

As for Turnabout Succession... while I earnestly wish the game had explored more of Klavier’s feelings about this whole setup, and some more emotional beats for Apollo, the case still makes for such a satisfyingly twisty and fun investigation overall (the poison stamp! what a ridiculous murder method! I love it!) that it’s a more-than-worthy finale.

B-tier: Turnabout Revolution (6-5), Farewell, My Turnabout (2-4).

The former does some cool stuff—I particularly like the opening half, where Apollo’s being real snippy and coping with Frankly Bizarre Dad Feelings, and giving Apollo a chance to finally throw down against Phoenix is a blast. The latter half of the case starts feeling a little... ridiculous? cramped? idk? like, they didn’t do nearly enough foreshadowing about Nahyuta’s whole deal for me to care about his drama, this justice system is so obviously silly and the manner in which the revolution is playing out strains my already-suspended-sky-high disbelief... fun, and flashy, but more noise than signal in the last part, I guess.

As for Farewell, My Turnabout: of course I love Edgeworth rolling back into court goin’ through SOME kind of bizarre emotional arc of Hey I’m Totally Healed Now and obnoxiously preaching about Truth TM. And it’s cool that the game set up a case where you want to lose. But the net result is a bit strange tonally—it’s trying set up some kind of message about It’s Not Just About Winning, It’s About Pursuing The Truth, but it feels really muddled when that’s combined with Okay But Maya’s Literally Being Held Hostage Like Right Now, Surely A Reasonable Justice System Has A Process For Dealing With This Obviously Complicated Situation, Right?

but also Franziska takes a fucking bullet (how did I forget about that) and then gets to roll in like Ms. Save The Day so, really, lots of good shit here

FILLER CASES

S-tier: Reunion, and Turnabout (2-2), Turnabout Beginnings (3-4). Look, the first one gives me all the Fey family drama a girl could ask for, and the latter gives me young Edgeworth being a total shit in an obnoxiously shimmery outfit. The whole enchilada is here

A+ tier: The Magical Turnabout (6-2). DELIGHTFUL! MAGICIAN! SHENANIGANS! Like you get to guess the trick behind a magic act as part of the case, how fucking fun is that, and also the Apollo & Athena duo’s chemistry is perfect, the villain is a FANTASTIC bastard, and even the bit characters you meet during the investigation are total delights... Probably the best “standalone” case in the series, in that it doesn’t rely on any emotional connections to previous cases (unlike 2-2 and 3-4) to still totally and completely rule.

A tier: Turnabout Samurai (1-3), Turnabout Reclaimed (5-DLC).

For Turnabout Samurai, I remembered before this replay how delightful the TV SHOW STUDIO investigation and actor-fandom stuff was; I had TOTALLY forgotten Vasquez calling in her mob connections to try and wreck you. What a fantastic villain; what a fun case.

Turnabout Reclaimed is just good solid goofy nonsense. Probably receives a boost for me in particular because, yeah, Simon Blackquill. But then again who isn’t giving cases a boost on that account; they are MISSING OUT

B tier: The Stolen Turnabout (3-2). Ron and Desirée are so great sighs into hands

C tier: Listing roughly in order of preference: Turnabout Academy (5-3), Turnabout Serenade (4-3), Turnabout Sisters (1-2), Recipe for a Turnabout (3-3), Rite of the Turnabout (6-3), Rise from the Ashes (1-5).

Four of these (5-3, 4-3, 1-2, 3-3) are perfectly solid cases; I just don’t love them quite as much as “thievery hijinks” or “Hollywood hijinks” or other such particularly delightful flavors. Everyone has a favorite flavor of Jolly Rancher and all that.

Rite of the Turnabout is interesting and connected with the larger themes of the game in a cool way, and makes good use of the divination mechanic. However, the last bit gets twisty enough to actually be kind of confusing, and said larger themes of the game are... kinda hard for me to take seriously... which, yeah, leads to it feeling a little stilted when it really should be singing.

Rise from the Ashes landed awkwardly for me. I know it was added well after the first game’s release, and it does a good job of continuing some of the cool stuff from that game—it’s neat, in isolation, to see Phoenix and Edgeworth working together (while still sniping at each other!), and some of the DS-specific mechanics are neat. However, I just didn’t feel like I learned quite enough about Ema and Lana to care about them like I should, and retconning “(almost certainly true) rumors that Edgeworth was involved in Shady Shit TM” into “actually Edgeworth was totally ignorant of Shady Shit TM, like at worst his crime was willful ignorance / incuriosity, he was just been manipulated by the Police Chief”... makes Edgeworth less interesting to me! Like, it’s cool to see Edgeworth caught off-guard and under pressure, but I wish the circumstances had been different? Also Gant’s theme song is annoying as shit, which is petty but hey this is my blog post so

D tier: Turnabout Storyteller (6-4), Turnabout Corner (4-2), Turnabout Big Top (2-3), The Monstrous Turnabout (5-2).

Turnabout Storyteller has some fun gags with My Dude Simon and also Taka, but was heavily marred by Everyone Talking Down To Athena The Entire Fucking Case Oh My God Can You All Just Shut Up.

Turnabout Corner has... lots of fun elements but... look the fucking stolen-panties setup just grates ok

I don’t think I hate Turnabout Big Top the way most people seem to, but I did find the final murder setup more annoying that I remembered this playthrough—bro you were really sure the dude was going to conveniently stand right there and the heavy statue was definitely going to strike a killing blow and not just give the guy a concussion? ok lol

The Monstrous Turnabout suffers mostly from poor puzzle/investigation design, being too hand-hold-y, and also having a core gimmick/setting that just wasn’t really my thing. Alas!

#ace attorney #obviously these are just opinions. love what u love #but this was entertaining to type up lol

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orbemnews · 3 years

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She was tired of seeing Black stereotypes on TV. So she started her own streaming service “I didn’t see my father, my brothers, my husband represented,” Spencer told CNN Business. “The media was really inundated with these false stereotypes.” And so began Spencer’s hunt for a service with relatable Black content. After all, she assumed, there had to be one. For Spencer, it was also personal. At the time, she had just finished her first documentary, “Mom Interrupted,” which chronicled the loss of children from gun violence through the lens of seven mothers in the Washington DC area. It played at the Alexandria Film Festival. She was the only Black person there, she said. “I really started to see the disparity for people of color — and especially women of color — when it came to getting distribution,” Spencer said. “And so when I couldn’t find what I was looking for, a light bulb went off. I’ll start a streaming service.” Launching a streaming service in an already crowded market is difficult enough. What Spencer didn’t know at the time was just how hard it is for Black women to secure funding from venture capital firms — a struggle that highlights the gap marginalized founders face when it comes to access. “It’s not about just the water hoses” In 2015, Spencer launched kweliTV, a carefully curated collection of more than 450 streaming options that are, as the company puts it, “a true reflection of the global Black experience versus what we may sometimes see in mainstream media.” Almost a year after George Floyd’s death sparked global protests and reignited conversations about systemic racism, kweliTV’s mission -— kweli meaning “truth” in Swahili — is finding itself in an increasingly prominent position to fill a void that some dominant streaming companies have been criticized for ignoring. “White people need to be educated,” Spencer said, noting that mainstream platforms might stream “The Help” and “Green Book” among other films about Black experiences, but have been criticized for being cliché. “[Black people] already know that history, and we don’t necessarily need to see it over and over again.” Documentaries like “Negroes With Guns: Rob Williams and Black Power,” which streams on kweliTV, is just one example that illustrates how the platform better represents the Black diaspora’s experience, according to Spencer. The documentary profiles Rob Williams, a Black freedom fighter, who advocated for the Second Amendment as a means for Black people to defend themselves against violent, White mobs in the Jim Crow South. “This was a figure I had never heard of before,” Spencer said. “Again, this is about racism, but it’s really about fighting back. It’s not about just the water hoses.” The biggest challenge: funding While kweliTV continues to make progress, it still has a long way to go relative to its competition. Netflix reported it will spend more than $17 billion on original content in 2021 alone. In comparison, kweliTV has no original content to date. In its little under six years of existence, the company has relied on its own revenue, a handful of grants, two convertible notes, and a PPP loan that was used for payroll, according to Spencer. The lack of funding is not on account of a lack of effort. Spencer said she learned quickly how hard it is for Black women to secure funding. And the numbers corroborate those struggles. Black women-founded companies raised $700 million between 2018 and 2019. While that’s a significant increase from years prior, it’s still just 0.27% of the total VC investments during that time, according to research from digitalundivided, a nonprofit that promotes Black and Latinx women entrepreneurs. “It’s ridiculous that Black women don’t even get half of one percent,” Spencer said in response to that study. The problem with VC funding stems largely from a lack of diversity, according to Ivan Alo and LaDante McMillon, who founded New Age Capital, a seed stage VC firm focused on tech startups founded by Black and Latinx entrepreneurs. “The venture capital industry — it has invested a certain type of way for a very long time, and they’ve been making billions and billions of dollars,” McMillon told CNN Business. “So they have no incentive to actually start looking at any new demographics.” The lack of diversity within the VC industry itself also perpetuates that, according to McMillon. “What starts to happen is a trickle down effect of no money actually going to a Black woman founder or Latina founder or a Black man or a Latino.” The killing of George Floyd and global pressure from the Black Lives Matter movement challenged the VC industry, among others, by exposing the racial biases the Black community faces. Both McMillon and Alo noted that there’s still a lot of work to be done. “I think there was a lot of diversity theater last year, a lot of people virtue signaling,” McMillon said. “Do I believe that it substantially changed the tide? Probably not. But I do think it’s opened up just the aperture a bit about what could potentially be coming from these communities.” Despite vows to diversify portfolios, Spencer said funding still remains her toughest challenge. She did receive money from Voqal, a coalition of nonprofits based in Boulder, Colorado, where she participated in a fellowship program in 2017. “Systemic problems take systemic solutions,” Mary Coleman, Community Program Leader at Voqal, told CNN Business. “We really saw her on the forefront of leading this work and it’s come to fruition,” Coleman said. “Not only with the stories that are being told, but also the way that revenue is being generated and distributed.” More than just a streaming service While powerhouses like Netflix, Hulu, and Disney+ can afford to create and buy content, kweliTV’s lack of funding has forced it to take a different approach. Every quarter, kweliTV pays out 60% of its revenue to filmmakers on its platform. Each filmmaker’s pay is relative to their film’s performance. “We promote them all the same, and that is very different from a lot of the other platforms,” Spencer said. “When I found out about all the difficulties, I had to make a decision. Do I say, ‘OK, I guess this is what it is: streaming services are too hard. You need a lot of money to do it, and maybe I just need to find another dream.’ Or do I figure out how do I make my dream reality whether anyone writes me a check, and I decided to focus on how to make this happen.” Spencer said. “That’s where the 60% revenue share came in.” When people hear “streaming service” and “Black content” together, there are obvious parallels to the giants of the industry. Indeed, some have called kweliTV the “Black Netflix,” but Spencer disagrees with that comparison. The byproduct of its revenue sharing strategy doesn’t just lower the bar for entry, it also fosters a community that Spencer hopes makes kweliTV much more than just a streaming service. “About 90% of our filmmakers I have spoken to personally,” Spencer said. “It’s not a transactional type of thing where we have your film and that’s it. We want people to be a part of this ecosystem.” Ranking among giants Spencer’s patient demeanor and calm voice mask her underlying fiery work ethic. The founder is aided by a few part-time employees. As for full-timers, she’s been the only one for years, “I work 16, 18 hour days,” she said. Fortunately for Spencer, a recent $100,000 investment will allow the company to hire an additional full-time employee to help out. Those long days appear to be paying off for the company. Spencer says the company’s registered users jumped to around 43,000 as of May 2021, which includes non-paying users who stream the free, ad-supported kweliTV Live service. That surge marked a 111% growth in users year-over-year. Paying subscribers have the option of paying $5.99 per month or $49.99 annually. Spencer declined to comment on the number of paying subscribers and the company’s revenue. The company has also brought on Lil Rel Howery, a comedian known for his roles in “Get Out,” “Bad Trip,” and “Uncle Drew,” as its head of comedy. “It’s an added bonus to our mission of amplifying authentic, global Black stories and storytellers of African descent,” Spencer said in an email about Howery’s role. And in classic David vs. Goliath fashion, kweliTV now stands among giants. It ranked second behind only Netflix in PC Magazine’s 2021 review of the best streaming platforms for Black content. “To me it shows that there is room for this type of content that we are curating,” Spencer said while reflecting on the company’s ranking. “We have a better pulse on what the Black community is yearning for.” Source link Orbem News #Black #Media #Service #ShewastiredofseeingBlackstereotypesonTV.Soshestartedherownstreamingservice-CNN #Started #Stereotypes #Streaming #tired

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seven-tenwrites · 6 years

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Move - Hoshi

As promised, this is a lil scenario inspired by this post about Hoshi dressing up as 'MOVE' era Taemin for halloween,,,,yes halloween,,it's very late, pls forgive me and I took several very long breaks writing it so I hope it's not too scattered and that you enjoy it :")

Pairing: Hoshi x reader

Type: Fluff ?? I guess? ?? Mostly just hosh dancing nothing Explicit happens

Words: 2,051

You slump into the couch against the wall, fingers absently tapping the rim of your empty plastic cup.

Your friend had escaped to the dancefloor what seems like ages ago, and you figure she’s found someone else to enjoy her halloween night with by now. You’re only waiting for her confirmation text to let you know you can leave without her.

You usually wouldn’t be up for such an undertaking as dressing up to go to a party that didn’t start until when you usually went to bed, but it had only taken seeing her face lit up in excitement and the insistence that you should take this opportunity to rest from your studies.

You let out a discontent sigh, adjusting the bunny ears she’d pushed onto your head as you wondered if this was really worth neglecting your studies for. You deposit your cup onto the coffee table adorned with fake webbing and plastic spiders in front of you, pulling your phone out of the pocket of the faux fur coat your friend also supplied, insisting you wear as little clothing beneath it as possible – you’d negotiated into a plain black camisole crop top and shorts instead of lingerie, like she’d tried to argue for, settling with the compromise of you wearing thigh-high stockings along with it. You really didn’t understand why Halloween had to constitute of wearing the “sexiest” clothing possible, yet here you are.

You tug the coat tighter around you before opening your phone to scroll through one of your social media accounts, cursing yourself for being far too acquiescent when it came to your friends.

Undeniably loud music pulses around you, colorful lights gliding across the walls and flashing to the beat, the occasional laughter and meaningless chatter filtering through it, but you pay it all no mind, looking through and liking your friends’ celebratory pictures.

It isn’t until the music shifts from someone’s generic halloween-themed playlist into things you might hear in a nightclub that you look up, taking that as your cue to leave. You could always wait for your friend’s text from the comfort of your room and come back to get her if she hadn’t already left – it wasn’t far from your apartment.

However, when you stand and gather yourself, you hear the starting tune of a familiar song and notice a crowd forming in the space between the living room and the kitchen.

Your phone buzzes, signalling a text from your friend saying she's safe and you're free to go, but you put off turning to leave for the moment because curiosity (and boredom) gets the best of you, and you're making your way towards the commotion, only having to take a few cautious steps around discarded items and pieces of costumes strewn across the dark floor.

You peek behind someone’s haphazardly worn wig to get a good view, and you instantly forget how to form any kind of coherent thought other than what your mouth moves to say, though your voice is barely a whisper and you can’t quite hear yourself over the music, “holy shit .”

The space is cleared for him, rightfully so. He moves to the music with such subdued intensity, such quiet grace – you hardly knew him (yet) – and you could tell he was born to dance.

Your mind clears of everything but awe and admiration at what you’re watching – and, if you’re honest, quite a bit of attraction, your heartbeat intensifying and seeming to follow his rhythm – but you realize you recognize him.

Soonyoung, sometimes Hoshi. You may have had a common class, but if not, it was almost impossible not to hear and know of him. Still a student, he already had a daunting reputation as a skilled dancer.

He was dressed in a sleeveless black turtleneck and tight black jeans strapped with suspenders, his hair styled back on one side to let the other fall over his forehead. You wonder vaguely what his costume is meant to be, until the chorus kicks in and it hits you all at once, like a punch to the stomach, knocking the breath from your lungs.

[The moves are starting again, under the dark lights]

The way he slowly sways his hips is quite possibly the most sensual thing you’ve ever witnessed, only topped by each coming dance move, your heart spasming when he crosses his arms above his head and thrusts those sinful hips.

[You got, got the rhythm]

He moves his feet in a way you wouldn’t dream of being able to follow, and the song smoothes into what must be its second verse, though to you, time has stopped and you wouldn’t be able to tell if it was the second or the eighth – you hoped it would play forever.

His outfit is so accurate to one of Taemin’s stages you recall watching in passing, you think that if you were to pull it up on your phone and make a comparison, there wouldn’t be any discrepancies, down to the slash on his brow – but to pry your eyes from him for even a tenth of a second would be a crime.

He’d be able to fool anyone. He moves as if the song is his, made for him and him alone, the movements so natural, so full of charisma it demands attention, commands it.

You shiver, inadvertently licking your lips and stuffing your hands, curled into fists, into your coat pockets.

[For a moment, I erased everything]

There’s a fiery passion in his eyes that’s hard to miss, and you want nothing more than for it to become your undoing.

[Only relying on my sight]

He turns, rolls his shoulder, and those foxlike eyes are fixed on your own, gaze steady and burning through you even as he continues to move, and you’re frozen in place, breath caught in your throat and your heart threatening to leap right out of it.

[With awe, I’m only looking at you]

You think you’re dreaming it, it must just be an illusion your lust-and-alcohol-addled brain is conjuring up from your complete and all-encompassing attraction and the implications of his movements, and not to mention the lyrics, the heavily sensual bass, but...

His lips curl into a satisfied smirk, and he holds your gaze so that there’s no mistaking that it’s you he’s directing that mischievous little wink at, as if he can read every doubt popping up in your mind.

[So your carefully applied makeup can smudge]

Then he’s undulating his hips in such a sinful manner, you aren’t sure how you keep watching without experiencing some kind of shock-related injury.

[Leave it alone, you’re beautiful]

He slows, and he’s still looking right at you, as if he’s speaking only to you, but his mouth doesn’t move from that beautiful little smirk – and then the chorus picks up again and you’re struggling to follow the speed of his movements.

[Under the dark lights…]

His gaze only breaks yours when he turns elegantly, exposing his back, and he’s moving his hips again, and despite the fact that you think, at that very moment, that to stare at his shapely bottom as it sways would be rude, you’re doing it anyway.

[…your moves captivate me]

Finally your internal battle comes to an end when he turns back to you, at the price of every other thought coming to an abrupt stop as well, because he finds you again, an even more self-satisfied glimmer in his eyes when he catches how your own flitted up from where you’d been looking.

[Your elegant gestures, secretive looks]

He moves his shoulders in what you can only describe as a continuous shrug, one of his hands up as if he’s snapping his fingers, and you can’t even begin to think about how funny it might be in another context, because he’s still holding your gaze, and his expression is serious, albeit a little smug.

Then the music slows and minimizes, giving way for the vocal bridge, and this is the part where you can remember a pause in the dance, a breather.

Except Soonyoung doesn’t pause. He doesn’t stop moving in any way, doesn’t let you breathe, as if he owned your lungs, though his movements slow with the song.

[Because we’re perfect just the way we are, don’t even worry at all]

Finally he pauses, but only for a moment, winking at you once more before abruptly bending down at the waist, touching the floor with one hand.

[Just like that, repeat]

Soonyoung holds the pose for a split second before slowly coming back up, swaggering a few steps forward and smirking at you as he spins and kicks a leg up, looking amused when you flinch at the sudden action.

He bends a little and moves his shoulders again, and though you can tell the song is coming to an end soon, your heartbeat never slows, your entire body taut, as tense as he seemed to be relaxed.

The chorus continues for the last time, and he’s swaying his hips and moving his arms with otherworldly grace, seemingly too complicated for you to follow completely but looking so effortless to him. He rolls his body and your mind goes blank, until he spins on his heel and bends down a little, hand extending to one side rather elegantly, as if he were asking someone at a ball to dance.

He holds that pose as the music slows to a stop, giving way for a wave of applause and scattered congratulatory whistles.

Soonyoung stands up straight, and when he grins he lights up the whole room, cheeks puffing out adorably and eyes pushing into narrow lines, and you could swear you’ve never seen anything so precious. It’s almost as if the he’s a completely different person from the one who’d been dancing. It breaks the spell, only to put you in yet another, melting your heart where only moments ago, your entire body had been frozen, mesmerized by his movements.

He swivels in his spot to bow gratefully to the crowd around him, sweet, contagious grin still on his face, until he turns back to you, and it melts into that smirk, the people around you dissipating from your thoughts.

Your legs move on their own, and you realize you’d been so captivated by him that you’d inadvertently inched towards him throughout his performance, until it only took you a few steps to reach him.

You give no thought to your appearance, your cliché and possibly quite seductive outfit long forgotten, the praise over his performance bubbling up within you suddenly pushed back for later, because he’s a lot closer, close enough to touch, and your train of thought crashes and explodes and takes the breath from your lungs with it. He’s even more beautiful, even more gorgeous from here, with sweat dotting the edges of his face, eyeliner slightly smudged, hair just a little bit disheveled, a grin you can tell he’s trying to mask under that smirk tugging at his surprisingly plump lips.

You introduce yourself rather awkwardly, the words jumping from your mouth before you can think them through, though he doesn’t seem to mind, his smirk morphing again, into something sweeter, warmer, soothing you before you can torture yourself with regret over your outburst.

“I’m Soonyoung,” he says, and you watch his lips move, your brain distracted and delaying in processing his words for a moment. “Or Hoshi, it doesn’t matter. But one of them means star.“ He takes this opportunity to wink, making your heart stop for what seems to be the thousandth time in the span of five minutes.

His eyes are shiny, you think, and as you hold his gaze, you realize they actually sparkle with something bright and playful, promising you something lovely if you manage to count the stars glimmering within his irises.

It’s extremely fitting.

“Hoshi,” you say, cheeks aflame as you savor the word on your tongue.

The boy in question grins, and it’s as if the sun has moved to the darkened living room of some well-off college student’s halloween party and rescheduled its daily rising to sometime between 1 and 2 in the morning.

Another song starts up and people start mingling on the makeshift dancefloor, but you pay them no mind; the ground could suddenly collapse around you and neither of you would notice, gazes still locked on each other.

“Star,” you breathe.

#hoshi #seventeen #svt #svt scenarios #svt fluff #hoshi scenarios #hoshi fluff #kwon soonyoung #my writing #oh god pls appreciate this i put too much work into this #too much time labor n research #but i love hosh n i love taemin so. its worth it #i think ?#im continuoulsy working on requests always ofc #but th eres. quite a bit so pls be patient #thx for reading ilu all !!

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hate-talia-blog · 7 years

Text

Cursed Tattoo (Chapter One)

Alfred sat on his living room couch, playing a shooting game on low volume. It wasn’t the same without the sound effects, but Ivan had reminded him that Alaska was sleeping in the next room and that if he wanted to keep her asleep, he best mute it. However, Alfred just couldn’t bring himself to plain old mute it, so he turned the volume to the lowest it would go and hoped for the best. So far so good, am I right? But at that moment, his phone went off.

Quickly he launched his right hand at the phone and positioned it against his ear after pressing the answer button.

“H-hey,” Hiccuping noises resonated from the phone, in between each word and sometimes syllables, “Hey, Alfre’. Iz me, Arrrrrthur. I need - I need ya te pick me up.”

“Arthur, it’s only ten thirty. Are you drunk?” Alfred asked, even though he knew the answer. His slightly older best friend - Alfred at twenty seven, Arthur at thirty - was constantly going to the bar. More often than not he got himself shitfaced within a few hours and needed Alfred to pick him up.

“A lil.” Arthur slurred back, static making its way through the phone.

Alfred sighed. He didn’t mind picking Arthur up at whatever pub he was being an asshole at. The real problem was that Ivan didn’t like Alfred leaving in the middle of the night so often. The white-haired male described it as “juvenile” and “irresponsible”. Alfred loved Ivan, and he loved Arthur in a different but still relevant way, but he was starting to agree with his husband. What if there was an emergency and he wasn’t there to help his family?

“Alright.” Alfred sighed, letting himself get killed in his game one last time. He set down his controller and let the screen fade into disuse as he collected his keys, shrugged on his bomber jacket, and asked Arthur through the phone, “Where you at?”

“Alfred?” A differently accented voice asked dangerously from behind the blond. He slowly swiveled to face his husband, Ivan.

“I’m just going to pick him up, he needs me to -” Alfred immediately launched into a hurried explanation, holding the phone a bit away from his mouth so that Arthur couldn’t pick up the conversation about to unfold.

“You cannot keep doing this, dorogoy. It’s stressful for you and it upsets Alaska when she wakes up and you’re not there.” Ivan cut off Alfred and explained patiently.

Alfred rubbed his brow, “But he’s relying on me! He’s my best friend!”

“And we’re your family and I love you. I’m sorry Alfred -” Alfred’s blood ran cold, “but you can’t keep doing this.”

“Y-You’re right.” Alfred rubbed his soulmate mark on the left side of his ribcage. The words that would shatter his world one day.

Everyone was born with a tattoo that started out blurry. As a person aged the tattoo would become more clear and reveal a dreadful thing: the last thing a person’s soulmate would say to them before said soulmate would die. Alfred’s only said ‘I’m sorry, Alfred’. Every time he heard that phrase, his mind froze up in panic.

Some said that the soulmate marks were a curse; to only know who you were meant to be with after it’s too late is a terrible thing. Others thought it gave a sense of closure, like watching a walk through of a game after navigating the entire thing on your own. Alfred just knew he wanted to go a long, long time before hearing those words uttered by Ivan.

Because Ivan was his soulmate, obviously. They fit together so well. Sure, they fought hard and horrible at times but they always made up in the end! And the passion that the Russian gave Alfred was unmatched. The two were married and had a beautiful daughter named Alaska. Why wouldn’t they be soulmates?

They wouldn’t know until the end, but Alfred was sure of himself and his choices.

“Please, Alfred? You can’t do this forever.” Alfred sighed and brought the phone up to his ear.

“Arthur?” Alfred said, checking if his friend was even still on the line.

“Hrg?” Arthur replied intelligently.

“I can’t pick you up when you get drunk anymore. It’s putting strain on Ivan and Alaska. Can you find someone else?” Alfred knew if his friend even begged a little bit, he would come running, Ivan’s temper be damned.

There was a long pause from the other end. Alfred could hear jovial talking and clinking from Arthur’s surroundings. Finally, he responded, “Yeah.” He still sounded a bit drunk, but the shocking turn of events had partially woken him from his drunken stupor. When was the last time Alfred hadn’t been there for Arthur?

“Good. Okay, get home safe Artie. Goodnight.” Alfred said, relief washing through his bones that Arthur didn’t seem mad.

“I’m sorry, Alfred.”

The words themselves sounded apologetic and a bit pitiful, but all they did was make Alfred’s heart stop. The beeping of the phone, signaling that Arthur hung up, beat against Alfred’s eardrums.

Alfred dropped the phone. It shattered, a nice screen ruined. In the back of his mind there was a whine of loss over the death of a smartphone, but Arthur’s words bouncing around in his brain didn’t exactly leave room for much else. Alfred glanced over at Ivan in horror and some semblance of organization returned to his brain.

'Ivan is your soulmate,’ Alfred reminded himself. 'Arthur is just your friend who you’re worrying about too much.’

A tiny bit of his mind was still frantic, but Alfred silenced it by striding forward and pushing his lips against Ivan’s. Ivan responded with his own motions, his fingertips cold against Alfred’s hands. They pulled apart after nearly a minute.

“Are you okay?” Ivan asked in his thick accent that Alfred always found hot.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Alfred smiled as convincingly as he could. Ivan saw through the masquerade but let it go. If Alfred didn’t want to talk, Ivan wouldn’t make him.

“Alright, if you say so.”

The next morning, Alfred was sleeping in his large bed, snuggled up next to Ivan under the covers, when Alaska came bouncing into their room and woke them up.

“Daddy! Papa! Daddy! Papa! Daddy! Papa!” She yelled happily, pushing at her dads and trying to climb up onto the mattress. When she succeeded, she simply started jumping- sometimes landing on a body part instead of a blanket.

“Alright, honey, we’re up,” Alfred said, sitting forwards and steadying the toddler on the bed in front of him. “Papa is up too. Right, Papa?” He nudged Ivan, who was trying to avoid opening his eyes.

“Da, dorogoy.” Ivan smiled and blinked his eyes open sleepily, the eyelashes trailing along. “I am awake.”

“Great. Now breakfast time!” Alfred scooped up little Alaska and set her on the floor, allowing her to race downstairs. Ivan rolled out of bed and followed, but Alfred allowed himself to check his phone first.

And what he saw was not good. Fifteen missed calls, ten of which were from Matthew, his twin brother. He clicked on the voicemail that was sent first, the least recent one.

'Oh, oh my god, Al! Answer your goddamn phone! I know it’s late but shouldn’t you be up or something? Arthur’s in the hospital, he was in a crash! Did you let him drive home alone? Oh my god, oh hang on, a nurse is coming, I don’t know why I’m here apparently I’m the second emergency contact after y -“ The message cut out and Alfred assumed Matthew hung up on him to talk to the nurse. His heart was pounding, racing, and his tattoo was burning all of a sudden. He didn’t even need to go to the hospital, he just knew.

Arthur was dead. And he had been Alfred’s soulmate.

——

Well that’s it! I’ll probably continue this to include how Ivan and Alfred try to adapt. Hope that if you made it this far you enjoyed it, I had a ton of fun writing it!

#Hetalia #aph #aph England #Arthur Kirkland #UsUk #ukus #aph America #Alfred Jones #rusame #amerus #aph Russia #Ivan braginski #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #soulmate #soulmates #soulmate au #soulmates au

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