#this reminded so much of the graphic novel this one summer!!!!

[therainbowfishy]

#this reminded so much of the graphic novel this one summer!!!! #water lilies #naissance des pieuvres #celine sciamma #Thursday night cinema #sketchbook #movies #french film

[hkthatgffan]

Well, today's the day! Hilda comes to an end. I figured now more than ever is time I make this post on just…how I feel about this incredible show ending and why it means so much to me…and why I'm grateful to Luke Pearson and the whole Hilda team. So, long post below ahead!

I found Hilda in 2018 via a post on the Gravity Falls sub of the trailer. Right from the start, something felt special about this show. And like many, I tuned in to watch it when it began. I didn't know what would be in store as I began it, but I was excited. This was at the end of the summer as GF hype for Lost Legends and the box set died down. So, getting in to a new show seemed like the best idea. It took literally hearing that theme song for me to instantly fall in love with Hilda. There was something so familiar and wholesome just bursting out of that opening. It was a feeling hard to really explain. By episode 3 and specifically the ending of it…I knew I had my next favourite show.

Everything about Hilda just felt perfect to me. The animation was incredible, Hilda as a character was enjoyable and full of life, the story felt fresh even if the core concept seemed familiar and all in all, I just loved the atmosphere this show radiated. It also made me so happy to see Canada have a part in Hilda. The Canadian animation industry is one I love given how much of a part of my childhood it was. And so to see it have a hand in this incredible show just made me so happy. Mercury Filmworks did amazing with Hilda. And I think that's how I began to understand why Hilda feels so familiar; it reminds me of those old cartoons I grew up on. Those Canadian Nelvana shows that were so wholesome & yet so fun to watch…while also not afraid to be bold. Hilda was that kind of show for a new generation!

I also didn't shy away from poking some nods to Gravity Falls. It was a great way to help spread Hilda's existence to more people and to this day I get messages from people who tell me they found Hilda because of my tweets, or videos or more. That means the world and I am grateful to have helped you discover this show. And like any show I fell in love with, I also bough the books and other merch for it. The Hilda graphic novels were amazing to read and see how the show grew from them, the figurine still just fits in my shelf, and the tie in books and more are always fun to collect. I'll miss it. Not to mention the memes…of which I made a few. The Hilda fandom is insane, yet so funny. Like all fandoms it has its ups and downs but I've met some amazing people because of Hilda and some who I remain great friends with. You know who you are <3

Hilda's conclusion means that the last of my holy trinity shows is now over…and with that, the end of an era. Truthfully, IDK what my plans are post Hilda. It was the last show still airing that I truly was 110% passionate about. That's not to say there aren't other shows, But there will never be another Hilda for me. Hilda is a show unlike any other I have seen. Yeah, perhaps it's not the most popular or the biggest or the best cartoon out there. But OMG, no other show since ever made me as happy and passionate as Hilda did. It's one of a kind!

I said in 2018 that Hilda is everything out of a cartoon that I wanted. I still believe that.

No cartoon is perfect and our definition of perfection is our own. If you ask me though…Hilda is the closest cartoon I have ever come across to my definition of perfection!

With that, while I am heartbroken to bid farewell to Hilda…I am happy I got to experience this show as it aired. I'm grateful for all the memories I made in the 5 years I had it. I'm grateful for the adventure and above all else…I'm grateful to have seen Hilda! ❤️

2018-2023

#Hilda #hilda the series #hilda netflix #Hilda season 3 #Hilda S3 #hilda twig #bella ramsey #netflix #Hilda the final season #hilda the show #The life of Hilda #I am going to miss this show so much #The final season #Season 3 #Hilda forever #luke pearson #trailer #Mercury Filmworks #animation #Twig #December #Netflix #Netflix Animation #Bella Ramsey #Thank you Hilda #Thank you Luke Pearson #Goodbye Hilda #gravity falls #That GF FAN #ThatGFFAN

[horsesandhockeyplayers]

When Life Gives You Lemons- Part 14

Warnings: Mature content, abuse, rape, eating disorders, OCD  etc. Some of these things go into a bit of detail.  These warnings are  relevant to the whole fic, not just particular  chapters.

Word Count Chapter: 4500

Word Count Total: 62,779

Author’s Note:  Huge shoutout to @newlibrary​ for the graphics and @hockeylvr59​ for the editing reads.

Barbs and Lemon are back by popular demand! Reminder, that this fic  starts during the summer of 2019. I   will be tagging the Avs and  Lausanne HC. Also *~*~*~*~* means a POV   change. Flipping between Mark  and Clementine. This part begins with  Clementine. THERE BE SMUT.

Part Fourteen*

My stomach swooped like I was on a roller coaster, and I knew I’d forever remember this moment as the one when I fell in love with Mark Barberio, or at least one of them. There seemed to be many moments when I fell a little more in love with him.

I kissed the underside of his chin as I murmured, “You’re so full of it.”

He wrapped me up in his arms again, hugged me to his chest and shifted his hips as he replied, “I’m full of something, and I’m gonna have to go take care of it in a minute.”

Bracing a hand on his chest, I sat up. How he could toe the line between being romantic one minute and entirely asinine the next I might never know, but, much to my great dismay, it was incredibly endearing and I felt my heart squeeze in my chest. My hair fell in a curtain around me as I scooted back onto his thighs and I tilted my chin in the direction of his crotch as I whispered, “Can I?”

His grin was impossibly wide as he chuckled and informed me, “Lemon, for the record you never have to ask a dude if you can touch his junk.”

I hid behind my hair, faltering as I offered, “Ok, I just…”

I trailed off, because how to do you tell someone you’re about to be intimate with that indescribable trauma happened to you and you don’t actually KNOW what to do with a dick since you’ve never had a healthy sexual relationship before? I wasn’t exactly sure, hence why I grew quiet.

Mark settled his hands behind his head— which just accentuated his arms and chest, and I realized that it was really unfair that there are men who looked like this in real life and not just on romance novel covers and I was still halfway shocked that I was curled up on the couch with one of said men— as he responded evenly, “Lemon, just do what you want. It’s ok, I promise.  If I don’t like something I’ll tell you.”

“But I don’t want to do something you don’t like,” I bit my lip after answering. Perfection wasn’t a suggestion with Bill and I hated that I kept comparing them together because Mark was kind and wonderful and Bill was a shitstain on humanity. 

“Babe,” he countered, “I do shit you don’t like all the time. But I stop and let you adjust or call me an idiot or we talk about it. That’s how you ended up on top, remember?”

I nodded and scooted back a little farther down his thighs, trying to sit on my heels instead of his knees. He had tucked his erection under the waistband of his underwear and jeans, leaving the head of his cock sticking out; without thinking, I reached out and, with the tip of my finger, smeared around the precum that had gathered there

His breath hitched, and I heard him hiss through his teeth. He unclenched his hands from behind his head, moving them to grip the arm of the couch instead. I bit my lip, palming him through his jeans and then tentatively, unbuttoned his fly. As I slid his zipper down, I took a moment to appreciate how he was straining against his boxer briefs.

I dipped my hand under the waistband of his shorts and when I wrapped my hand around the base of his dick, his hips jerked and he swallowed a moan. The way his body responded to me made me feel a little dizzy with power; the novelty that I caused him to react that way and that I was calling the shots here was almost too much to bear, but I knew one thing for sure: it was incredibly hot and I kind of loved it. With my free hand, I shoved his underwear down and freed him completely, letting my fingertips trail up his length. His dick jumped into my hand and I enjoyed feeling him, enjoyed the velvety feel of his skin over the hardness of his erection. When I risked a glance up at him, he had sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and his eyes were intense, and laser focused on me. “Is this ok?” He nodded vigorously.

I watched him react as I stroked him, never having the opportunity to explore someone so thoroughly. Precum was dripping onto his stomach and I swiped it up with my finger and licked it off, rolling the bitter taste over my tongue. Mark’s breath hitched again and his dick twitched in my hand.

This time when he exhaled, there was a distinctive “fuck,” muttered under his breath.  Watching him straining, gripping the arm of the couch so hard I thought there would be permanent divots in the leather, I realized he was doing his best to give this completely unpressured experience to me, and as hot as this moment was already, the fact that he could be so unselfish in it, despite everything, only endeared him to me more. 

I rubbed my thumb over the head of his cock, and I saw the muscles in his jaw clench as I spread around some more of the precum that was leaking out.

“Lemon,” he choked out, “Spit in your hand.”

“What?” I asked. His words broke my trance, and even though I understood what he was saying, it took a moment for me to process the suggestion.

“Spit. In. Your. Hand,” he panted.

I did my best to gather enough saliva in my mouth before I did what he asked. The lubrication changed the texture of his skin, and he went from velvet to silk. I loved the feel of him against my hand, the easy slide of him across my palm almost hypnotic. As I stroked him, I felt him get impossibly harder.

He was trying to control the movement of his hips, but they kept jumping up underneath me, shoving the length of him through my fist completely. 

He wasn’t completely shaven, but he was trimmed and I moved my other hand to palm his scrotum, rolling his testicles in my hand. I heard him curse softly as I teased them, felt them tighten as jet of cum landed on his stomach and he groaned, “Fuck. Don’t stop.”

I had indeed stopped what I was doing to watch the cum jet out of him, but with his encouragement, I started again, stroking him through each spurt and firmly holding his balls in my other hand. 

FInally, he was done and he reached down and grabbed my wrists in his hands as he conceded, “Okay, now you can stop. Too much.”

He flopped back, sinking into the couch as he let my wrists go and with his eyes closed he rasped, “Holy shit, Lemon, that was… hot.”

It was hot and now that I wasn’t transfixed by his genitals, I was able to sit back on my heels and just look at him: his hair was disheveled from my fingers carding through it and the cross on the silver chain was resting against his chest, carving a shimmering path through all of the muscles there. I took that moment to appreciate that there were so many muscles. Even if I worked out just as much as he did, I still probably wouldn’t have half the amount of muscles— which I personally thought was unfair.

HIs abs were splattered with his cum and I gave in to the urge to reach down and trail my index finger through the milky fluid, pushing it through the valley of his abdominals. When I risked a glance at his face, he had one eye open and he was watching me carefully, his rakish eyebrow raised. “You’ve never gotten the opportunity to just enjoy someone’s body, have you?” he asked. 

Shaking my head, I impulsively licked the cum off my finger.

He grabbed his shirt off the floor and wiped his stomach off before he sat up. When we were facing each other again, his hand went to the back of my head and he pulled me down for a kiss, his tongue invading my mouth almost like he was trying to lick his own cum out of it.

When he finally pulled away, I had to touch my lips to make sure they were still there. “Come on, Lemon,” he prompted, picking me up and setting me on my feet next to the couch. He made it seem so easy, even though I knew there was no way it was. He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the bedroom, trying to hold his jeans up with his free hand. He ended up kicking them off in the hallway.

Once we were through the door, he pulled me forward and spun me around like we were dancing, his bed hitting the back of my knees and I fell backward onto it. I had been dreading this moment and I shut my eyes, bracing for the moment of panic I knew I would feel when he fell on top of me.

When his weight didn’t hit me right away, I opened an eye to catch him falling to his knees. He had disposed of his boxer briefs and tossed them with his shirt into a pile and I realized he had gotten fucking naked and I had missed the show.

Propping myself up on my elbows, I asked, “Barbs? What are you doing?”

He reached up to hook his fingers into the waistband of my leggings and stripped them off with my underwear in one smooth pull, throwing them in the same pile as his clothes. “I should think that is obvious,” he whispered into the skin of my thigh.

“It’s… not?”

He gave me a look I couldn’t interpret and grabbed me gently, dragging my body toward him until I was almost hanging off the bed. He arched a brow, like that was supposed to give me a clue and I shrugged, clueless. I was still unsure as to what was happening, but I wasn’t uneasy about it, which was a miracle in and of itself. 

He walked closer to me on his knees as he instructed, “Arms up.”

I lifted my arms, more as a reflex than anything, and when I settled back on my elbows, I was naked. It was the first time I had been naked with a man since my marriage, and I fought the urge to cover myself. Mark sat back on his heels for a moment and I could feel his gaze traveling up and down my body. When he spoke, his voice was so soft that I barely heard him murmur, “You are breathtaking.”

I looked down, half concerned that my body had been replaced by body snatchers. But, all I saw was the same old body I saw every day: one with a faint map of stretch marks from gaining weight too fast; battle scars, that were both literal and figurative, from fighting my marriage and myself; a smattering of cellulite, weird tan lines and broken capillaries; and assorted other imperfections that seemed to be emphasized in this moment of vulnerability. Before I could voice any of this, Mark slid his hands from my ankles to my knees and twisted them to skirt along the inside of my thighs. He ran them upwards until his thumbs found the crease along my vaginal lips, which proved to be sufficiently distracting and quieted the self-doubt racing through my brain.

When he pulled my folds apart and blew on my clit, I fell back onto the bed, a whimpered “fuck,” escaping my throat. I felt the smile on his lips as he pressed them to me and licked the length of my pussy.

I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to watch him or just lay back and enjoy the sensations. He explored me with his tongue, his fingers spreading me apart as he licked around my pussy. When he closed his lips over my clit and sucked, my hips arched into his face, and when he slid a thick finger into me, I bit my lip to keep from crying out.

My orgasm hit me like a tsunami; the sensation started to rise, and suddenly I was drowning, my hips bucking wildly into his face. I swear Mark growled when he locked his free arm over my pelvis to hold me in place as he sucked my clit and finger fucked me through my orgasm. As I was coming down, he slid a second finger in with the first and the stretch caused a mini orgasm on the heels of the first. With a flat-tongued lick, he detached from my “pleasure nub,” and I suddenly understood why terrible romance novelists called it such.

He continued to slide his fingers in and out of me, leaving trails of wet opened mouth kisses along my thighs until I relaxed completely, the occasional tremor shaking my body. 

When he slipped his fingers out of me, he sucked them into his mouth to clean them off before crawling over me and resting against the pillows; once situated, he hauled me up his body and arranged me half on top of him, his dick resting along my thigh.

With our naked bodies like this, it painted a stark picture of how different we were. HIs body was thick and toned. I don’t think he had one tiny cell of fat on him and his skin was a dark olive after having been in the sun all summer. I, on the other hand, looked like poorly proven sourdough bread that Paul Hollywood would have been ashamed of… with blue hair.

I felt Mark take a breath below my ear as he whispered in it, “Was that ok? I don’t want to brag, but I have been told I’m pretty good at that.”

I stretched my jaw a bit, willing the muscles to work since all of them felt like they had the integrity of wet cardboard. “I don’t have anything to compare it to,” I ventured, “So you could be the absolute worst in the world, but if that’s the worst, then the best might kill me.”

He went completely still beneath me as he processed my response, taking a moment before he responded, “What do you mean you don’t have anything to compare it to?”

I set my chin on his chest and looked up at him as I clarified, “I’ve never experienced that before?”

He looked a little shocked, and rubbed the hand that wasn’t cradling my ass down his beard as he thought that over. “Never tell Landy this,” he murmured, “but I’m actually at a loss for words.”

I shrugged. “Honestly,” I admitted, “If getting that as my first time meant I didn’t get it other times, I think I’m ok with that.” Mark smiled down at me and I returned the smile before I schooled my face into a more stern expression and continued, “Also, please don’t even mention Landy again while we’re naked, in bed together, or naked in bed together. ”

Mark’s face softened and he kissed the top of my head, chuckling lightly and he concluded, “Well, Lemon, I was glad to give it to you.”

His cock was still hard against my hip, and I ran a finger up the length of him as I began, “You’re still..”

“Mmmhmm.” I felt his chest rumble as he responded.

I looked at him inquisitively, “can I?”

He just looked amused as he answered, “Babe, if it involves you and my dick, I’m going to have very few restrictions.”

I bit my lip and straddled his thighs again, mimicking our position on the couch earlier.

“Do you have… you know?” I hoped he would know.

Mark’s face was caught up in a grin as he answered the question I couldn’t finish, nodding as he informed me, “your inability to finish sentences when referring to anything about sex is adorable.” His long arm reached up and he somehow dug a condom out of the drawer of his nightstand and tossed it near my knee. “Knock yourself out, babe.”

Suddenly faced with a hard dick, a man with his hands folded behind his head, and a condom, I didn’t know what to do or where to start. I looked up at him for guidance and he just shook his head as he told me, “This is your show, Lemon. No judgment.”

I bit my lip and traced the outline of his testicles in his scrotum, fascinated when the skin drew up tight in response to the stimulation. Mark sucked in a sharp breath but didn’t react otherwise. I was nervous all of a sudden and the moment felt charged, in a different way than it had earlier; some of the urgency was gone, and we had all the time in the world, which meant there was plenty of time for me to prove I had absolutely no idea what I was doing and make a fool of myself. I didn’t want to throw all of that at him right now so I just said simply, “You have to tell me what you like.”

“Clementine, you are naked, on top of me, playing with my junk… I like all of this.” He made no effort to hide his amusement. 

I wrapped my hand around his balls and rolled them between my fingers, causing another sharp inhale from Mark and and an exhaled “fuck.”

His dick twitched against his stomach, the tip leaking clear fluid onto his skin. Letting go of him, I scooped it up with a finger and sucked it off. 

His big body squirmed beneath me as he groaned, “Fuck, you are killing me, do you know that?”

Comments like that filled me with confidence and made it easy for me to toss aside all of my hesitation and it occurred to me I should thank him for that later. Feeling reinvigorated and embracing my newly-found inclination for power, I teased him, “You taste good. I didn’t know you could taste good.” I may or may not have made a show of licking my lips to prove my point.

He threw his head back and moaned.

I ripped the condom wrapper with my teeth, gripping his length in one hand and rolling the condom down it with the other. I let him slap back against his stomach and he twitched again as he cursed, “Damnit, Lemon.”

I gave him a sickly sweet smile. Had he not looked so incredibly good imbued with such a level of desperation, this wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun as it was.

“Oh, she’s playing now,” he chirped at me, before looking at me dead in the eyes and stating, “If you had a different past, this would be going way differently.”

 I moved forward, feeling the length of him settle between my pussy lips and I rolled my hips, the friction so good that I swear I could feel it in every inch of my body. The crown of his head dragged against my clit and I moaned as I asked him, “What would you do differently, Barbs?”

As I slid along the length of him again, coating him in copious amounts of my wetness, he hissed, choking out, “We wouldn’t have made it this far; for one, because I would have fucked you over the back of the couch.”

“Oh?” I quipped. I honestly didn’t know being this turned on was even possible and my hands went to my breasts of their own accord, holding them in my hands and rolling both nipples between my fingers.

Mark slammed his head back into the pillows, eyes screwed shut, as he took a deep breath and rasped, “Fuck babe, this is better than literally every fantasy I’ve ever had about you.”

“Really?” I breathed, rocking against him, enjoying hearing him say it. “I’m not really even doing anything…” As the pleasure coursed through my body, I could hear my voice falter and I was pretty sure that Mark was almost at a breaking point, if the tremor I could feel in his thighs underneath me was any indication.

“Really,” he confirmed, as I kept up my steady grind against him, his breath shallow as he continued, “What you’re doing is…..so fucking hot…” I felt him twitch against me as he confessed, “The only thing that could possibly make this better would be if I was inside of you.”

I raised up off of him and the action caused him to open one eye. Reaching between us, I angled his cock just right and started to sink down on it, pausing every few millimeters. Mark arched a brow at me as he watched, admitting, “Lemon, if you want me to beg for it, all you have to do is ask. But since you haven’t, I gotta know, are you trying to kill me?”

I shook my head, realizing that we were on two separate pages regarding my slow pace. “No,” I told him, “I’m just waiting for it to hurt.”

Mark looked at me pointedly and sat up, his arm sliding behind my thighs to prevent me from sliding down on him any farther. “Okay,” he began, “First of all, I think we need a rule: we don’t talk about previous experiences while we’re having NEW ones. Second of all, sex shouldn’t hurt EVER. I mean, unless it’s on purpose and you’re into that kind of thing. If you’re not into that, then it should never hurt. Do you understand me, Clementine?” His voice was firm and once again I had the feeling I may have trivialized something that wasn’t really trivial. 

I nodded because I couldn’t do anything else. 

He pulled me off of his cock and slid us both up the bed until his torso was resting against the headboard. 

“What are you doing?” I asked.

Mark smiled at me ruefully, bringing his lips to my neck as he whispered into my hair, “I thought I just needed to let you figure things out for yourself, but it has become glaringly obvious I need to be an active participant.”

My voice was soft as I responded, half scared and half confused, “I don’t know what you mean.”

We were still pressed closely together, and his hands trailed over my naked body, fingers teasing my nipples, as he directed me, “Kiss me, Lemon.”

I leaned forward and he moved his hands to knot in my hair, my breasts pressed against the hair on his chest as I kissed him. I kissed him deeply, trying to convey with my tongue just how much this all meant to me. 

As we kissed, one of his hands slid between our bodies, his fingers slipping between my pussy lips and softly rubbing my clit. I may have mewled into his mouth, but I’d perjure myself in a court of law denying that. 

While I was rocking into his hand, he grabbed his dick and angled it just right so that the tip slid into me as I rolled my hips. The sensation made me gasp, and I rocked harder, needing more.

“That’s it, babe,” he murmured, “That’s it.” His hands were on my hips, guiding me. I curled my hands into fists on his chest, wishing his hair was long enough to grab like this, but it was still short from a summer wax.

I needed him, I needed to feel full. I slammed myself down on him and he cursed in response, cautioning, “Fuck. Easy, babe.”

“Mark, please,” I whimpered, “I need more. I need you.” My hands unclenched, and I dug my fingers into his chest desperately.

His hands tightened on my hips as his punched up forcefully and he confirmed, “Ok?”

I nodded, almost delirious with pleasure as I begged, “More.”

He set a quick rhythm with his hips, and soon all that filled the room was the squelch of our bodies coming together and our sharp breaths. 

“Fuck, I’m almost there,” he groaned, “Tine, touch yourself.”

One of his hands left my hips and he took my fingers and pressed them to my clit, “Cum with me,” he urged.

“I can’t,” I choked out.

“You can,” he encouraged, “Look at me.” 

My eyes met his and he held my gaze as he continued, “I’m gonna get tested by the team doc tomorrow, because I can’t wait to fuck you skin to skin and fill you with my cum. I can’t wait to make you mine so you never have to worry about a man hurting you ever again. Even me.”

My voice was a whisper, as I whined out “Holy shit.”

“Now fucking cum with me, Clementine.” He punched his hips up hard and I came apart in a million pieces, like a stained glass window shattering from a bomb. He thrust into me irregularly until he sagged against the headboard and cradled me to his chest. 

We lay there in a sweaty mess, panting, until I broke the silence, and repeated, “You want to fill me with your cum?”

“Lemon, I swear to God, if you ruin this perfectly good moment with some self-deprecating sarcastic comment, I’m going to tell Landy you think his magic is dumb.”

I gasped in horror, “You wouldn’t. Also, again with mentioning Landy in bed!!!”

He kissed the top of my head chuckling, “You know I would. Now, just lay there and be quiet and soak in the moment.”

We were quiet again for a long time, long enough that the sweat was starting to dry on my skin and giving me goosebumps. I shivered, and this time it was Mark who broke the silence, asking “Does Daze need dinner or something?”

At the mention of dinner, my stomach growled. “Probably,” I guessed, “I know I need dinner. Why?”

I looked up at Mark and he was staring in the direction of the door as he told me, “Because she’s been quietly staring at me since we finished. Honestly, she started even before that, and if you weren’t half as hot as you are, I wouldn’t have been able to finish.”

I chuckled against his chest and sat up, pulling my leg over him, intimately feeling the loss of him inside me. “I’ll go feed her if you order pizza,” I offered.

Grabbing his shirt from earlier off the floor, I pulled it on, though it hugged my body a little more than I would have liked.

“Babe,” he sighed, “That one is covered in cum, grab a clean one out of the drawer.”

I gave him a saucy wink as I sashayed out of the room, shouting behind me, “Maybe I wanna be covered in your cum.”

He fell over into the pillows laughing and I heard him grumble, “Fucking minx.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

#Mark Barberio #mark barberio imagine #mark barberio fic #colorado avalanche imagine #colorado avalanche fic #colorado avalanche rpf #avs #Avs fic #avs imagine #avs rpf #hockey fic #hockey imagine #hockey rpf #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl rpf #When Life Gives You Lemons #Clemberio #WLGYL

[astoundingbeyondbelief]

Kaiju Week in Review (November 27-December 3, 2022)

Netflix released the Norwegian blockbuster Troll on Thursday. It's decent. I'm glad that original creature features can still exist, but unfortunately there's not much to set this one apart from the pack besides the novel setting and monster. Readers of this column will have no trouble predicting nearly every story beat. Props for including a cute hacker (and the wacky operation shown above... trolls hate church bells, you see).

IDW finally published Godzilla Rivals: Vs. Gigan, which was originally supposed to come out on May 25 with a different artist. I'd say it's my second-favorite of the series, after the King Ghidorah issue. The premise—the Nebulans upload fighting techniques from gamers around the world into Gigan and sic him on Seattle—was always going to be a winner, and it actually does something with its period setting. Great action, and I'm delighted the Nebulans finally came back in a big way.

The Colorado-based toy company Titanic Creations has licensed Gorgo, and they've got big plans for the Irish Godzilla. The DopePope sculpt above will be the basis for a super-articulated figure; announced alongside it were a graphic novel that follows the 1961 film and (more tentatively) an animated film! The comic is due in 2024 and will be set in the same universe's that the company's original kaiju inhabit. Now they just need a bawdy novelization of the new film to complete the Gorgo hat trick.

Student-run Studio Mujaku has a short in the works, titled Midnight the Era, which will combine tokusatsu and hand-drawn animation. Fascinating premise—in a world where nuclear weapons are replacing human-controlled kaiju as deterrents, one of Japan's kaiju decides to resist its decommissioning. The storyboards and teaser trailer look lovely too. One scary caveat, from the SciFi Japan article: "Unlike many student works, MIDNIGHT THE ERA will not be released on YouTube. Instead, it is scheduled to premiere at the Summer 2023 Comiket comic convention in Tokyo. DVDs of the film will also be sold at Studio Mujaku's booth during the convention." So this might end up being one of those kaiju shorts that'll be nigh-impossible to see in the West unless you go to G-Fest (if that).

Godziban dropped another mostly-filler episode which recaps season 1, though it does start with a short scene of Rodan teaching Radon to fly. They're really testing Wikizilla's color-coding abilities with all these segments!

Radon is also getting a Bandai Movie Monster Series figure later this month, alongside the Godziban Anguirus. Images not to scale; I'd expect Radon to be about the size of the Minilla and Little figures.

In other Godzilla toy news, Playmates VPs of Marketing John Stelzner and Pat Linden went on the Adventures in Collecting Podcast and revealed some of the company's plans for the line. Offerings next year will include Baragon (not sure which one) and a new Titan Tech figure. They'll also be making more figures of MonsterVerse kaiju from before Godzilla vs. Kong, are working on a line for the fifth MonsterVerse film, and have their sights set on Hedorah and Biollante for the classic line.

I'll close with a reminder that Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time will be playing in U.S. theaters on the 6th, 8th, and 11th. My semester also ends on the 11th, so I'm in crunch mode now, but I'm still hoping to carve out the time to see it.

#kaiju week in review #kaiju #godzilla #troll #godzilla rivals #gigan #midnight the era #gorgo #titanic creations #godziban #rodan #radon #anguirus #bandai #toys #tokusatsu #comics #idw #art

[junichan]

The Return of Flower Fruit Mountain

Part 1 of 3

Content warning: None, TW: None Based on The Journey to the West by Wu Cheng'en and the Monkey King graphic novels by Chaiko

A massive plum tree grew from a rocky outcropping high atop a cliffside. The onset of fall had stripped it of its leaves and left its dark limbs as bare as black bones. It might have looked dead and gnarled, but it had never failed to produce fruit. It was one of the few trees that survived from Sun Wukong’s youth and remained one of his favorite places to relax. He lounged in the upper branches, watching the clouds. A chilly wind ruffled the Monkey King’s fur, chasing away what little warmth the late-September sun offered. Being immortal, all but the most bitter cold had long since stopped affecting him. It was still a sobering reminder that winter was on its way.

Decades had passed since Sun Wukong had returned home from India, but things still weren’t quite the same.

The vengeance of Heaven had razed the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit to baren rock after he’d been trapped under a mountain for stealing the Peaches of Immortality. In his early days as the Handsome Monkey King, thousands of simians had called the Mountain home, now only a few hundred of their descendants survived. Life had been brutal for them in his absence, struggling for survival on a ravaged mountainside. He knew he would always bear the guilt of not being there to protect and provide for them.

Sun Wukong’s subjects never lost faith in him though. They passed down his legend from generation to generation, and even while they struggled to find food and shelter they kept his banner fiercely guarded. The descendants of his original tribe were overjoyed to have him back, and he swore he would never let them suffer again. Under his guidance they were bringing their home back to life. Forests of pines, larches and maples once again covered the mountain alongside orchards of wild fruit trees. He taught his monkeys how to arm and defend themselves, how to hunt and build traps, and how to build fires to keep themselves warm.

He was proud of all his people had accomplished, and yet it seemed like the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit would never regain its former glory. Lately the seasons had been harsher, and some days it seemed like there wasn’t enough food or warm places to rest. When he was young, he and his people feasted and drank themselves silly nearly every day. Now some of the youngest monkeys didn’t even know what a feast was.

That year the summer had been especially short and the autumn especially cold. Sun Wukong had made sure they had stockpiled as much food as they could in Water Curtain Cave, but he wasn’t confident they could make it through the winter without rationing. If it came to that, he would simply find some bandits or demons to steal supplies from.

Maybe I should do that anyway, Wukong mused. It had been a while since he’d been able to flex his powers and enjoy a real fight. He’d been feeling the itch of boredom scratching at the back of his mind lately. He loved his tribe more then anything, but an all-powerful, immortal monkey could only focus on the day to day minutia of being a king for so long before he got restless.

Wukong had heard a rumor that a group of demons had taken up extorting a small kingdom a few hundred miles away. He could go investigate that and maybe even be back by –

“Monkey King! Monkey King!! Come see what we found!!”

The excited shouts of monkey children filled his ears just before three of them suddenly sprang up the tree and jumped all over him. One of them landed on his stomach, blasting the air from his lungs, while another tugged on his arm and the third attached himself to his head. Wukong never minded the rowdy antics of his littlest subjects. He chuckled as he sat up, and gathered the tiny, fluffy bundles of energy into his lap.

“Take it easy, children! What’s got you so excited, huh??”

They all started talking at once, but Wukong managed to pick up most of it.

“A stranger has come to the Mountain! A goddess!!”

“She turned into a monkey! With bright, shiny fur!! And she’s big, like you!”

“She made apricots grow for us! You have to come see!”

It took a few minutes, but Wukong was able to get them to settle down enough to explain. From what he gathered, the little ones had wandered away from their mothers’ watch to play and had found themselves in the apricot grove near the base of the mountain. They had spotted a young woman walking through the trees, and knew immediately she was no ordinary human. “She had pointed ears and glowing eyes!” When she spotted the little monkeys watching her, they had been wise enough to run away at first. But then she’d transformed into a monkey and asked them if they were hungry. The little monkeys spared no detail in telling Wukong how the strange goddess had made the apricot tree come back to life, and how delicious the fruits were. The goddess-monkey talked with the little monkeys as they ate until their bellies almost burst. Then they all fell asleep because it felt so warm, and they were so full. “She seemed really lonely, and really tired,” the smallest one observed quietly. When the little monkeys woke up from their nap, the strange one was still fast asleep.

“And that’s when we came to tell you! You’re the Monkey King! She’ll make more apricots for you if you tell her so!!”

Usually when word reached him about a stranger appearing on the Mountain it meant trouble. It wasn’t uncommon for mortal hunters to threaten his people, no matter how often he chased them off. Demons weren’t always so bad. Any demon that came to the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit was usually smart enough to pledge their loyalty to him and leave his monkeys alone. And if they weren’t, they didn’t get far before Sun Wukong put them down. It was the immortals that were the most problematic, and the worst were celestials from the Heavenly court. Wukong couldn’t stand their high and mighty attitudes, as if everyone in the Earthly realm was beneath them.

This time however the little ones were so insistent that the goddess was ‘nice’, he felt more curious then perturbed.

“Alright, let’s go see this apricot growing goddess.” The children clambered up onto his shoulders, whooping with delight as Wukong jumped onto his cloud and flew down the mountain in a blink of an eye. He found the strange monkey where the little ones had left her, still asleep on the tree branch.

Next

#sun wukong #monkey king #journey to the west #jttw fanfic #jttw #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #Return of Flower Fruit Mountain #oc: sying

[the---hermit]

A Certain Hunger by Chelsea G. Summers

This book has been all over internet for the past few months, and since I don't read a lot of contemporary novels I felt this book could be the perfect way to comfortably read something different. In fact the themes and general vibe of the novel are much closer to what I would normally read. This novel is a first person narration of a food critic who turned out to be a cannibal. She murdered and ate several ex partners, and in the novel we get to see how she did it and why. This book is included in several unhinged women main characters lists,and it totallt fits in. I can see how it got so famous, because aside from the more horror-ish vibe of the story there's a lot of sections in which our main character shares her thoughts on femininity and how being a woman is generally perceved as well as how society tells you to act as a woman. There's some really interesting and nice passages on the topic, and overall I really liked the way this character is totally opposed to the classic female representation in litterature. I'm going to say something insane but bare with me for a second and you'll see where I am going. In classic Italian litterature I have always particularly enjoyed Boccaccio because other than proving that medieval litterature can be fun he did something extraordinary: he humanized female figures in litterature. Previousl the model of women in litterature was an angelic idea, then this guy came along and reminded everyone that women are humans have desires and believe it or not they can feel a varied range of emotions and enjoy sex. I feel like A Certain Hunger is a book that instead reminds the reader that women can be violent and feel anger, or even commit these kind of crimes withour an emotional explaination like revenge. There's a couple of specific passages in the book where the author addresses this topic directly and those were some of the best parts. The plot is overall good, you follow with interest because the narrating voice is really captivating.

There is one main thing I did not like and that I have complained about on goodreads as well because it really ruined the experience for me. The book has a lot of sections that take place in Italy (it was very fun and interesting to see Italy and Italians from the point of view of someone outside of our culture to be honest, and it really added something to te experience for me). To make things more elevated and since the main character supposedly speaks Italian and has a lot of interactions with Italian people there are many words and phrases written in Italian. Those were not at all checked by someone who activly speaks the language before publishing the book. If it were just a couple of sentences it wouldn't have been too much of an issue, but since it was so present it was very annoying to read cause it was avoidable quite easily. There's typos that change the meaning of sentences, wrong adjectives, and sentences that look translated by google translate. These phrases feel wrong because they were translated directly from English, meaning they either do not make sense or sound like stuff people would never say out loud. I understand that for an English speaker that cannot speak Italian this complaint is useless, but believe me it made the reading experience so frustrating. What leaves me shocked is that the cultural aspects were mostly accurate (shout out to the full page in which the main character complains about how Trenitalia is totally unreliable, it was as hilirious as it was accurate), so I really don't understand how this can live with all the language mistakes in the book. This is my only complaint for the novel to be honest, if it had been edited by an active speaker the reading experience would have been so much better. With this being said it's not a bad book, and it's worth reading for the themes I talked about. As an horror/thriller book it wasn't too disturbing, there were a couple more graphic scenes, but I feel like it could have been much worse. If you want to read if maybe check the trigger warnings but I think it's quite appoachable.

I read this book for the studyblr w/ knives horror reading challenge for the body horror prompt.

#bookblr #booklr #2022 book #book rec #book review #book recommendation #a certain hunger #popular books #unhinged women #studyblr w/knives reading challenge #horror reading challenge #book cover #pretty books #mine #the---hermit

[richincolor]

New Releases

I got an early look at Rez Ball and am really looking forward to seeing it out in the world. I'm excited for that and several others this week.

Rez Ball by Byron Graves Heartdrum

This compelling debut novel by new talent Byron Graves tells the relatable, high-stakes story of a young athlete determined to play like the hero his Ojibwe community needs him to be. These days, Tre Brun is happiest when he is playing basketball on the Red Lake Reservation high school team—even though he can’t help but be constantly gut-punched with memories of his big brother, Jaxon, who died in an accident. When Jaxon’s former teammates on the varsity team offer to take Tre under their wing, he sees this as his shot to represent his Ojibwe rez all the way to their first state championship. This is the first step toward his dream of playing in the NBA, no matter how much the odds are stacked against him. But stepping into his brother’s shoes as a star player means that Tre can’t mess up. Not on the court, not at school, and not with his new friend, gamer Khiana, who he is definitely not falling in love with. After decades of rez teams almost making it, Tre needs to take his team to state. Because if he can live up to Jaxon’s dreams, their story isn’t over yet.  This book is published by Heartdrum, an imprint that publishes high-quality, contemporary stories about Indigenous young people in the United States and Canada.

Those Pink Mountain Nights by Jen Ferguson Heartdrum

In her remarkable second novel following her acclaimed debut, The Summer of Bitter and Sweet, which won the Governor General’s Award and received six starred reviews, Jen Ferguson writes about the hurt of a life stuck in past tense, the hum of connections that cannot be severed, and one week in a small snowy town that changes everything.

Over-achievement isn’t a bad word—for Berlin, it’s the goal. She’s securing excellent grades, planning her future, and working a part-time job at Pink Mountain Pizza, a legendary local business. Who says she needs a best friend by her side?

Dropping out of high school wasn’t smart—but it was necessary for Cameron. Since his cousin Kiki’s disappearance, it’s hard enough to find the funny side of life, especially when the whole town has forgotten Kiki. To them, she’s just another missing Native girl.

People at school label Jessie a tease, a rich girl—and honestly, she’s both. But Jessie knows she contains multitudes. Maybe her new job crafting pizzas will give her the high-energy outlet she desperately wants.

When the weekend at Pink Mountain Pizza takes unexpected turns, all three teens will have to acknowledge the various ways they’ve been hurt—and how much they need each other to hold it all together.

Ab(solutely) Normal: Short Stories That Smash Mental Health Stereotypes edited by Nora Shalaway Carpenter & Rocky Callen Candlewick Press

Channeling their own experiences, sixteen exceptional authors subvert mental health stereotypes in a powerful and uplifting collection of fiction.

A teen activist wrestles with protest-related anxiety and PTSD. A socially anxious vampire learns he has to save his town by (gulp) working with people. As part of her teshuvah, a girl writes letters to the ex-boyfriend she still loves, revealing that her struggle with angry outbursts is related to PMDD. A boy sheds uncontrollable tears but finds that in doing so he’s helping to enable another’s healing. In this inspiring, unflinching, and hope-filled mixed-genre collection, sixteen diverse and notable authors draw on their own lived experiences with mental health conditions to create stunning works of fiction that will uplift and empower you, break your heart and stitch it back together stronger than before. Through powerful prose, verse, and graphics, the characters in this anthology defy stereotypes as they remind readers that living with a mental health condition doesn’t mean that you’re defined by it. Each story is followed by a note from its author to the reader, and comprehensive back matter includes bios for the contributors as well as a collection of relevant resources.

With contributions by: Mercedes Acosta * Karen Jialu Bao * James Bird * Rocky Callen * Nora Shalaway Carpenter * Alechia Dow * Patrick Downes * Anna Drury * Nikki Grimes * Val Howlett * Jonathan Lenore Kastin * Sonia Patel * Marcella Pixley * Isabel Quintero * Ebony Stewart * Francisco X. Stork

Monstrous by Jessica Lewis Delacorte Press

Forced to spend her summer in her aunt’s strange small town, a teen girl discovers dark secrets hidden in the woods. From the author of Bad Witch Burning comes another pulse-pounding novel perfect for fans of Supernatural and Lovecraft Country.

Don’t go outside past dark. Come straight home after church. And above all—never, ever, go into Red Wood.

These are the rules Latavia’s aunt tells her as soon as she arrives in Sanctum, Alabama for the summer. Weird, but Latavia isn’t here to solve any scary small town mysteries; she’s here for six weeks and six weeks only, and then she’s off to college and won’t look back. Still, Sanctum has its perks—mainly, the cute girl who works at the local ice cream shop.

But Latavia can’t ignore how strange her aunt’s tiny town is. The residents are suspicious of her and at times hostile, and it’s clear she’s some kind of outsider. That’s proven when Latavia is dragged out of her house in the dead of night, into the forbidden Red Wood, and presented as a human sacrifice to an ancient monster.

Latavia won’t be eaten without a fight. She’ll do whatever she has to do to survive—even if that includes making a deal with the monster, endangering her crush and family, and even risk turning into a monster herself.

The Name Drop by Susan Lee Inkyard Press

New from the author of Seoulmates comes a story of mistaken identities, the summer of a lifetime, and a love to risk everything for.

When Elijah Ri arrives in New York City for an internship at his father’s massive tech company, Haneul Corporation, he expects the royal treatment that comes with being the future CEO—even if that’s the last thing he wants. But instead, he finds himself shuffled into a group of overworked, unpaid interns, all sharing a shoebox apartment for the summer.

When Jessica Lee arrives in New York City, she’s eager to make the most of her internship at Haneul Corporation, even if she’s at the bottom of the corporate ladder. But she’s shocked to be introduced as the new executive-in-training intern with a gorgeous brownstone all to herself.

It doesn’t take long for Elijah and Jessica to discover the source of the they share the same Korean name. But they decide to stay switched—so Elijah can have a relaxing summer away from his controlling dad while Jessica can make the connections she desperately needs for college recommendations.

As Elijah and Jessica work together to keep up the charade, a spark develops between them. Can they avoid discovery—and total disaster—with their feelings and futures on the line?

Goddess Crown by Shade Lapite Walker Books US

In this thrilling Afro-fantasy, the first set in the lush, opulent kingdom of Galla, a girl raised in secret must leave her sheltered rural home for the subtle dangers of the royal court, where she becomes caught up in deadly power struggles and romantic intrigue.

Kalothia has grown up in the shadows of her kingdom, hidden away in the forested East after her parents were outed as enemies of the king. Raised in a woodland idyll by a few kindly adult caretakers, Kalothia can hunt and fish and fend for herself but knows little of the outside world. When assassins attack her home on her sixteenth birthday, she must flee to the king’s court in the West–a beautiful but lethal nest of poison, plots, and danger, overseen by an entrenched patriarchy. Guided by the Goddess herself, can Kalothia navigate this most worldly of places to find her own role? What if she must choose between her country and her heart? Excitement, romance, and a charismatic heroine shine in this first book set in the unforgettable kingdom of Galla.

#new releases #young adult literature #young adult books

[djservo]

sending this to you early before i forget (and i will forget), april is OVER. the year really starts zooming past march it's scary! april reads, were there many of them? what did you think? other media interests also what's the spring/summer reading vibe?

april summary

you could probably tell by my lack of goodreads updates but my ass was NOT reading this month omg. 2 books but Barely since the first I started in February and the latter and I only just finished on the 30th WAHHH it's been stupid busy and stressful at work these past few weeks to the point where my free time could only consist of simply hanging out and watching movies/survivor and other thoughtless little things like that 4 my own sanity. in hindsight, absolutely not the best time to take up two meaty theory/cultural criticism books smh!! I was too ambitious, and while I could've just called it quits and picked up a more manageable/digestable read, I thought I'd be able to brave it out eventually... meanwhile my pdf of Man's Rage For Chaos sits abandoned + bookmarked at a measly 50 pages in amongst dozens of survivor screenshots LOL Sigh! it may just have to be another DNF because I don't think I have it in me to absorb another 300+ page long pdf just yet (it was a feat getting thru Little Boy: The Arts of Japan's Exploding Subculture at times)

but OK, onward!

Comfort Me with Apples: More Adventures at the Table by Ruth Reichl — a juicy romantic drama masquerading as just another foodie book. I would've been perfectly satisfied if it'd been the latter (I really loved Tender at the Bone) but when I TELL U I was gasping and clutching my pearls every other chapter, scandalized at every corner!! the book follows her foray into the world of being a food critic, during which she finds herself in two different affairs while married to her longtime husband/companion (who is revealed to have also been cheating on her at the time rip). Somehow she managed not to make herself come off as a victim, so clearheaded and honest with her actions and mistakes, but part of you also can't help but root for her a little -- to flourish in her career, to grow a backbone, to come to the harsh realization that sometimes people just grow apart no matter how much history there is. So much wisdom and heartbreak!!! And, as she was about 30 during this period, my favorite reminder that the intrigue and possibility of Life(tm) isn't nearly over after your mid 20's--it's hardly even begun at all. and then of course all the food descriptions, glorious and sensual as always. Tampopo (1985) instantly came to mind: food + sex + woman's quest for the Meaning of it all, you simply gotta love it

Theatre of the Oppressed by Augusto Boal — I don't think I can add anything substantial to this even if I tried LOL I'll say I'm always tickled by any critiques and callouts of western civilization, and his connection of US presidents defending "reactionary imperialist interests" regardless of "character" (or political party) = the enactment of terror that's natural when it comes to the succession (hah) of oppressive forces... floored babes!! tell it like it is!! ok I lied, one more point -- a lot of this book discusses this radical methodology of theatre that involves the audience, allows them to interact, adjust, implement meanings as a means of revolution and there's this big brained review I read on goodreads that connected it to TWITCH STREAMS of all things, specifically gamers who allow the chat to vote on/make the decisions while the gamer performs these choices. I feel like there's so much Meat there... an analysis of the interactive nature of the internet/contemporary popular media and its influence on the way we perceive free will... anyway.

I started a saucy short story collection that'll hopefully keep me titillated, and I think I'll also treat myself to a fun graphic novel moment after my failed lil scholarly attempts hehe movie-wise I got sucked into this awful franchise The Brotherhood by David Decoteau which is basically college fratboys/hunks who have to fight some killer and/or mystical force of evil in the most homoerotic way possible (the filmic equivalent to trashy little convenience store pulpy softcore erotica methinks).... 6 full films of regurgitated storylines and gratuitous shower scenes and I must admit I had a blast !!! it morphed into a sorority-slasher theme, which then morphed into a broader theme of Tormented Women(tm). It's been a loose goal of mine to keep my letterboxd watchlist number lower than the amount of films I've logged for the sake of staying manageable/realistic, but there's now a scarily small difference of 5 films between the two 😢 so i think I'll try to stick to my watchlist as best I can this month 🫡 and ofc watching survivor as always, nothin new there yeah yeah I'm predictable

#cheesehair #asks #reads

[reallyunluckyrunaway]

5 Twisted Book Recommendations for People who have a Dark Sense of Humor...

1.) Beautiful Darkness by: Kerascoët

The novel tells the tale of Aurora, a girl who finds herself taking a leadership role in her community after a horrible disaster occurs... The story starts out with a whimsical tone, but rapidly devolves into a more morbid narrative.

Beautiful Darkness is wickedly good and creepy. Surreal, surprisingly disturbing, and well...dark.

The twists in this made my jaw drop. Especially the initial one. It acts as sort of an anti-fairytale of sorts. Complemented with its cute, cartoon- ish, and simplistic art style. Its pleasant watercolors and... super bloody deaths and graphic violence. Obviously!

There is so much to unpack in this gorgeous graphic novel. Themes of death and mortality, the innate savagery within humankind, and so much more than I can get into here.

(Although if you are curious... you can read a better deconstruction of the novel here:)(Hopefully after you read it).

2.) The Bunny Suicides by: Andy Riley

Over The Top and hilarious. This is a series of feel good comic strips with no solid plot lines except for featuring cutsie creatures, (bunnies in this case) attempting a single goal: to die in the most brutally and over complicated ways imaginable. As a depressive person myself… I found this hilarious. As the name suggests, this was exactly that. A bunch of bunnies “ “unaliving “ themselves in a darkly humorous fashion. And somehow there was humor to be found in its gruesome yet, not gratuitous pages, unlike *ahem* some other shows with similar punchlines…

For me, this was what “Happy Tree Friends" was trying to be… Slightly edgy, fairly dark, outwardly innocent, and weirdly—fun?

3.) Dead Weight: Murder at Camp Bloom by: Terry Blas

✨Camp✨ is in the name and in the game for this graphic novel. When a group of misfit kids staying at a fat camp for the summer find out that one of the councilors have been brutally murdered, it's up to them to find out who did it, and if the killer plans on striking again… There's a nice diversity to the characters here, and their sleuthing reminded me of the Mystery Gang meets Sleep Away Camp. The art style was round and soft, and was somewhat reminiscent of the Gravity Falls art style to me.

5.) Stray Dogs by: Tony Fleecs

Stray Dogs, written by Tony Fleecs and illustrated by Trish Forstner follows a group of canine friends that wouldn't be out of place in a G-rated movie. But instead of discovering the power of friendship, they use their limited detective skills to uncover that their new owner is, in fact, a serial killer. Stray Dogs, is a strange mix of a cute Disney movie, meets "Silence of the Lambs." The overarching mystery pulled me in instantly, and the hits keep coming.

6.) I Kill Giants by: Joe Kelly

I Kill Giants is the story of a loner at school escaping into a fantasy world. But all is not as it seems with Barbara, and Barbara is not what they think she seems to the children at school that torment her, her family, or her only friend. Because Barbara has a secret: She kills Giants.

The art was sketchy, and simplistic, but charming.I liked the simple main character design. Which remained distinct, while also not trying too hard to be quirky.

#recommendation post #book recommendations #graphic novel #graphic novels #fantasy comic #comic books #graphicnovel #art #digital art #dark humor #tw #these violent delights #violent themes #blood and gore

[rodrickstudios]

My Potential Projects 1: “Chicken Little Hard-Headed”

Alternative Title: Chicken Licken Hard-Headed (UK)

Latin Spanish Title: La nueva Chicken Little (The New Chicken Little)

Production done at Walt Disney Television Animation

Direction and Writing: Mark Dindal, Rodrick

Producer: Randy Fullmer

Writing based on the original script/draft for Chicken Little (2005) by Mark Dindal and Randy Fullmer

Character Design: Omar Lozano

Character design adapted from Omar Lozano's illustrations for the graphic novel Far Out Fables: Chicken Little Saves The Moon Base, by Benjamin Harper (published by Stone Arch Books)

In a world of talking animals, 12-year-old (and 6 acorns tall) Chicken Little's overactive imagination and proneness to panic attacks have made her an outcast at home and in her hometown of Barnyard Warnyard. Her father, Randall Rooster, just wants to have a regular kid like everyone else, which most of the time leads to her questioning about being a "freak" due to how often she seemingly witnesses vampires, ghosts, aliens and monsters lurking around. Because of this, Hailey Hen, Chicken Little's mother, has to constantly keep her husband in line so as to avoid Little from wrongly believing that he doesn't love her after all.

At Barnyard Warnyard Middle School, things are even harder for Little, as a group of bullies led by Foxy Loxy and also formed by troublemaker Goosey Loosey, nerdy Ducky Lucky and airheaded Henny Penny (who often makes the other three wonder why did they included her in the group to begin with) doesn't stop reminding her of how much of an outcast she is. Principal Owl Powell isn't also of help either, as he also sees her as crazy. But then things take a turn for the worst.

One day, Chicken Little gets hit on the head by an acorn and thinks it's a piece of the sky, so she runs from one end of Barnyard Warnyard to the other yelling with all her might "The sky is falling! The sky is falling!". All of the townspeople freak out at this warning. Soon enough Little has unintentionally incited civil unrest across the town, so much so that she almost destroys it. After discovering it was just an acorn what started it all, everyone is angry at Chicken Little for raising a false alarm. Thus, almost all of them (including Mayor Turkey Lurkey himself) force her to shape up in order to avoid another incident.

Pressured by this, Little convinces her parents to sign her up at Camp Yes-U-Can, a summer camp set outside of Barnyard Warnyard and meant to improve self-esteem on animal young ones. To her dismay, Foxy and company end up going as well, and the bullying towards her isn't stopped. Despite this, Little is comforted at camp after meeting other outcast animals from across the land that also have challenges of their own. 

Cygrus "Ugly Duckling" Mallard is a down-to-earth bird from the Pondey Ponds town. He was adopted from the local orphanage by Mrs. Mallard, who already had ducklings of her own. Nowadays, Cygrus is constantly bullied by them (as they don’t take the fact he’s a swan very seriously) and by his school peers. He feels different from the rest and can’t wait for the day on which, according to what his mother always tells him, he will become a beautiful swan.

Runt of the Litter is the smallest of twelve pig siblings and now weights 700 pounds. Still, he sees himself as a “wee, helpless little pig” because of his constant comparisons with his other brothers and sisters, who (believe it or not) are way more colossal than him. However, despite his low self-esteem, he is very open to meeting new friends.

Lane “Black Sheep” Flock is a rebellious yet friendly ewe who isn’t seen well by her upper class parents and relatives. She’s one of those animal young ones who prefer hanging out with friends rather than going to an important family reunion. Because of the pressure her family puts her into, she wishes to know if she should just be herself or get used to their fancy lifestyle.

Fish Out of Water is very silly and playful, but not completely accustumed to the lifestyles from dry land yet. The whole fish family, being the parents very prestigious scientists, have moved from their ocean hometown in order to study the behavior of terrestial animals. At land, Fish has problems socializing with other animal young ones. While, for example, sea animals play ball by letting it float in order for another player to catch it, at land one’s supposed to toss the ball directly. Fish hasn’t still get accustumed to this and other aspects from terrestial culture, and is viewed as a weirdo by the land kids. 

Chicken Little gets really well with those animals, who understand her worries as a whole. However, she soon realizes the bullying from Foxy Loxy will be the least of her problems there, as the three sheep who are camp counselors may not be what they seem. She discovers they, led by Counselor Matt, are cooking up a very evil plan for the end of the summer. Thus, she will have to use a lot of courage in order to foil them. But she isn’t alone. Will Little and her new friends obtain the fruits of their personal growth in time to save the day?

NOTE 1: Fish Out of Water and Goosey Loosey will not talk, but rather have a voice actor doing their respective animal noises á lá Frank Welker.

Chicken Little - Holly Hunter

Randall Rooster - Danny McBride

Hailey Hen - Maya Rudolph

Cygrus Mallard - Sean Hayes

Mayor Turkey Lurkey - Tom Kenny

Counselor Matt - Penn Jilette (when in evil mode)

2nd Counselor - Erica Lindbeck (when in evil mode)

3rd Counselor - Tom Kenny (when in... you get the idea)

NOTE 2: I've priorized the Latin Spanish/Mexican cast here because I'm an actual Latin American myself and also a big fan of Latin Spanish dubbing. All voice actors listed below are accompanied by one of their characters in parenthesis. I want them to use the voices of those characters when taking their respective roles in Chicken Little Hard-Headed.

Chicken Little - Fernanda Gastélum (June in the 2017 Ducktales reboot)

Randall Rooster - Ricardo Tejedo (Rick Mitchell in The Mitchells vs. the Machines)

Hailey Hen - Berenice Vega (Linda Mitchell in Mitchells)

Foxy Loxy - Jessica Ángeles (Catra in She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

Ducky Lucky - José Antonio Macías (Bert in Sesame Street)

Henny Penny - Erika Langarica (Sonata Dusk in My Little Pony Equestria Girls: Sunset’s Backstage Pass)

Mayor Turkey Lurkey - Gerardo Reyero (Humongous Chicken in The Adventures of Elmo in Grouchland)

Cygrus Mallard - Yamil Atala (Dexter in Dexter’s Laboratory)

Runt of the Litter - Miguel Ángel Ruiz (Joey Felt in Atomic Puppet)

Lane Flock - Rossy Aguirre (Buttercup in The Powerpuff Girls)

Counselor Matt - Arturo Mercado (Bob the Builder) when in good mode; José Roberto Pisano (Death in Puss in Boots: The Last Wish) when in evil mode

2nd Counselor - Rubén Cerda (Horton in Horton Hears a Who) when in good mode; Carla Medina (Bellwether in Zootopia) when in evil mode

3rd Counselor - Adriana Núñez (Miss Rabbit in Peppa Pig) when in good mode; Rolando de Castro (Dr. Wolfowitz in 3 Pigs and a Baby) when in evil mode

https://collider.com/disney-chicken-little-history-explained/

http://am.animatedviews.com/ChickenLittle.html

https://www.facebook.com/NikRanieriAnimator/posts/1782119021840158

https://www.markanthonyaustin.com/large-grid

#disneyfanproject #fan project #disney rewrite #disney fan project #disney plus #far out fairy tales #far out fables #animation project #chicken little #chicken little original draft #ugly duckling #the ugly duckling #runt of the litter #fish out of water #black sheep #alternative project #rodrick studios #doblaje latino #doblaje mexicano #latin spanish dub #latin spanish dubs #mexican dub #mexican dubs #chicken little saves the moon base #disney chicken little

[carriagelamp]

I’m legally obligated to try to read at least a few queer lit choices in June, so here’s what I’ve got! Not a lot of Full On Novels because this has been a crazy month, but I got lucky with some really cute ones

Bad Boys Happy Home v1

This was a yaoi that, so far at least, was significantly more domestic than anticipated. Akamatsu has been getting into fights with a man he met on his way home at a local park as a way of blowing off steam, even if he hasn’t managed to beat him once yet. However, eventually Akamatsu learns that the other man, Seven, is homeless and has been living at the park — rather than risk his sparring partner getting displaced, he invites Seven to come stay at his apartment until he gets his feet under him…

Bad Guys v1

Well, they finally put a movie out so I finally bit the bullet and read the first book of this series. I read it in French but there’s hardly enough text to make any difference. I can see why kids enjoy it, it’s fun and silly and the art is very accessible. It really holds zero interest to me though, it’s really more of a picture book like Elephant and Piggie than a graphic novel.

Demon Slayer v1-2

Another book I got talked into reading by children. I thought it looked like agonizingly generic shonen, another Naruto knock off or something similar, so I was surprised by how much I actually enjoyed it so far. The art is really appealing, it reminds me of old-school 90s Inuyasha art? Kinda? It’s about a boy whose family is slaughtered by demons while he’s away, and who returns to find his younger sister, the only survivor, turned into a demon  herself. Together they band together to find a way for her to be cured, as he fights to become a demon slayer who can protect the both of them, and she fights her new, violent nature. I love sibling stories, honestly.

Dragon Girls v1-2

Jeez. I am 90% sure this was Scholastic’s attempt to capitalize on Wings of Fire with a younger audience and a budget of two dimes to get it done. It’s about a group of three girls who find out that they can travel to a magical forest where they’re dragons that are tasked with protecting the forest and the tree queen from an evil shadow. I don’t think anyone can enjoy this unless they’re actively a seven year old girl, and even then I have my doubts. It’s generic to the point of ennui and the art is so bad that even I could have drawn the dragons better.

Earwig and the Witch

The final novella that Diana Wynne Jones ever wrote. After what a botch Ghibli did of the movie version, I’ve been avoiding it, but finally decided to give it a chance. It was actually pretty enjoyable, it very much had a quirky Dahl vibe to it. Earwig, a young orphan who is good at getting her way, is adopted by a witch who intends to use her as labour. Earwig, however, isn’t about to take that lying down and teams up with the witch’s familiar to find a way to once again control this odd situation.

Girl Friends complete collection v1

A cute enough little yuri romance. Not as good as something like Failed Princesses, in my opinion, this one felt much more… tranquil, I suppose? It was sweet but didn’t have a lot of plot happening. Still, if you feel like a very gentle sapphic romance, it’s not a bad one to breeze through.

In Deeper Waters

Gay Little Mermaid! Hell yeah! Pirates! High sea adventures! Magic! This was lots of fun! It took me a little bit to turn my brain off enough to enjoy it at the beginning, but once I realized out this really is meant to just be a queer fairytale I was able to stop overanalysing and just enjoy the ride. Very fun, summer read, scratched an itch I was having after Our Flag Means Death.

Jackass!

This was something. Not as bad as I expected, a childhood friends to unexpected lovers sort of story, and definitely a story that knew its kink and ran with it. Side romance was, simply put, vile though and was rather hard to ignore to get through the rest of the book. Almost enjoyable. There’s better queer manga to read, this made me think more of the trash I read as a desperate teen in the aughts.

Kase-san and Morning Glories v1-3

Now this sapphic romance was absolutely 100% the best thing I’ve read this weekend. It was incredibly cute, and the art is so charming. It’s about “slow pace” Yamada, a quiet girl on the greenery committee, developing a crush on Kase, the school track star, and the very blushy cute romance the two of them fall into.

Lily To The Rescue // Two Little Piggies

Last year I had read A Dog’s Way Home by Cameron and really enjoyed it, so I was excited to see that he had some children’s novels written in a similar style. This is a chapter book series about rescue dog Lily who now lives with her girl and helps at the family’s animal rescue centre. In these books she helps find, protect, play with, and support various animals that are found and brought to the centre. It’s just charming, with some of the loveliest art.

This Wonderful Season With You

Another really cute one, despite the comically generic title that I keep forgetting. This manga is about ex-baseball star Shirataki who ends up being talked into joining the programming club by short, shy, nerdy Enoki. While the other club “nerds” are intimidated by Shirataki, Enoki admires him and the two form an unlikely friendship which grows from there…

Witch Week

Another Diana Wynne Jones book because I was in the mood. This is one of my favourites of hers and I reread it every few years. Witch Week takes place in a world where magic is illegal, at a boarding school for “witch orphans” (the children of witches who have been burnt at the stake) and other “undesirables”. It’s a rather dull, unpleasant life in the school, until one day a note is found in one of the books that a teacher is grade, accusing someone in the class of being a witch. This is a serious accusation, and everyone seems to be trying to get to the bottom of it, as more and more magic seems to be cropping up.

#book review #book reviews #manga #diana wynne jones #witch week #earwig and the witch #kase-san #kase-san and morning glories #in deeper waters #this wonderful season with you #lily to the rescue #w bruce cameron #girl friends #demon slayer #bad guys #queer lit #pride month #chatter

[ryderdire]

The core will never die.

It’s funny Marcy knows, that even now it’s gone, and it is. The core still won in the end, it wanted to never be forgotten ,to never be irrelevant. It won.

the memory of the core, the cold of its mindscape as she sat in the dark alone waiting for somthing to save her the feeling of it forcing its way into her brain, all remained with such clairity it was like they where yesterday.

The core is still painfully relevant to her life, she still wakes up in a panic because of it most nights. Her old computer is gone, it’s the first thing she got rid of when she returned home.

Life moves on.

She moves starts shcool again and it’s like nothing happened.

Her parents don’t talk about her dispearance, they don’t ask about the scars or the nightmares, they, as per usal, barely talk to her.

Her teachers are nice enough, none of them ask questions about why a straight A student is a year behind. Or her scars or why she refuses to use the shcool computers. Mostly they seem unsure of how to handle her but she doesn’t mind.

The cores ghost still follows her, memories she can’t quite escape, and looks she wishes she could ignore.

The shcool year ends as quickly as it began.

One month into summer it hits her that it’s been a year since she was stabbed.

Marcy avoids mirrors that day.

She visits Anne and Sasha, the week is filled with ice cream, movie nights ,Creatures and Cavrens and not a single thought of the core.

Marcy wonders if this is what perfection really feels like, just being.

The week ends she goes back to her parents in Oregon.

. More and more all she can think of is the core of andrais.

This is what it wanted to be remembered to be feared.

She spends as much time as she can on calls with Anne and Sasha over the summer to keep her mind distracted.

A month before summer ends Sasha suggests therapy. She’s not to sure it would do anything, but she convinces her parents to let her at least try it.

The therpist her parents choose is kind and relaxed, and surprisingly believes everything Marcy says.

“I’ve had my fair share of werid supernatural shit”

she says adjusting the ponytail her bright red hair is tied into.

She keeps seing The therpist. Shcool starts again.

she’s in highshcool now. Things seem easier, she makes friends this year. To her surprise she finds she’s not the only kid with supernatural experiences in the shcool or even the whole world.

She talks with Anne and Sasha less but that’s okay. The core doesn’t haunt her at shcool anymore.

Her parents still won’t talk about it she decides that it doesn’t matter to her.

Besides the cores ghost reminds her often of how the last time she shared her feelings ended. She gets a new laptop for her birthday. It’s tinted with green and small enough to fit in her backpack for shcool. Using it isn’t that bad.

She visits Sasha and Anne on Anne’s birthday. They celebrate 2 years since this all began. She goes home the next day. Life moves on she takes exams, starts working on a story for a graphic novel she hopes to publish one day. Before she knows it summer arrives again and it’s been two years now sicne she was stabbed.

Her parents finally talk about it, she does too. Her parents finally talk about it, by the end of the conversation their all crying. They tell Marcy their proud of her.

She doesn’t feel so haunted anymore.

The core barely haunts her now, she doesn’t know if it will ever fully be gone, but that doesn’t matter what the core wanted doesn’t matter and as far as she’s concerned it has no power over her.

#just for funsies #the therpist is Wendy if you didn’t catch the implication #the other kids with experience can be whoever tf you want #ryders rambles #this was ment to be a paragraph then I got carried away #whoops #healing and stuff #Marcy fic #post Amphibia #Marcy heals #marcy amphibia #Amphibia #amphibia spoilers #fic #Amphibia fic #fanfic #don’t I have a tag? for fics #ry writes

[hypnagogic-marshmallow]

So uh, do you ever do that thing where you think you did something, except you didn't do it, you only remembered to do it, and somehow your brain decided that was the same thing?

Yeah, that was me with turning on my ask box. ANYWAY.

@theskeletoninthegarden

(referencing this post)

 How many books did you read this year?

If we're counting manga (and I am because if it was good enough for my library's summer reading program, it's good enough for everyone else), I would guesstimate about...hmm...

113, perhaps?

Manga was my gateway back into reading after many, many years of Pointless Reading Anxiety Over Nothing. It's quick, it's good, and easy, so that made everything else easier to get into, too!

But including only the wordy-word books, that's about, uhh...

34? Many of them re-reads as I revisited old favorites.

17. Top five books of the year

Alrighty, here we go (in no particular order because I am bad at ranking):

-An Ordinary Wonder by Buki Papillon. Seriously, this one hooked me right from the beginning. It follows an intersex main character living in Nigeria. There are some harrowing scenes so read safely, but it was. Just so good. Pretty sure I cried.

-I had That Same Dream Again by Yoru Sumino. This one was so stinkin' cute and whimsical. I had a fantastic time, and it really reminded me of what it's like to be a kid again.

-The Killing Woods by Lucy Christopher. YA mystery about the sudden death of a girl, and all the people tangled up in it. This one was a re-read, and I'd only read it once before, but it really nails the type of writing style I lean towards.

-It Had to Be You by Georgia Clark. I historically haven't read a lot of romance, but this is the book that convinced me I should read more. Especially the fluffy kind. Bonus: an entire will-they-gay, won't-they-gay tension permeates the entire thing, with a payoff that I won't spoil. But I had a great time.

-Providence by Max Berry. If you like existential space horror and would enjoy a prominent character that you can easily headcanon as autistic, I'd check this one out.

Bonus shout-out to Haikyu! as the manga series that has devoured my soul this year. I fuckin' love my volleyball boys.

34. What’s a book you’ve recommended the most this year?

I haven't done much recommending, but I absolutely would suggest The Magic Fish by Trung Le Nguyen if you are even slightly interested in graphic novels. I did me a nice cry over that one.

18. Least favourite books of the year

Well, nothing I outright disliked, so that's good! In terms of manga, I tried Dr. Stone for the first time, and it just was a series I couldn't get into. The Last Slave Ship by Ben Raines was very interesting, but was probably the hardest to get through.

Thanks again for the ask!! This was fun. :D

#reading #yearly roundup #thoughts #looong sorry lol

[winterburnwriting]

Well, in my last post I said I was sick and would get back here in about 10 days. That was a little over 10 days ago, so here I am. I feel much better now, but the break in writing has made it hard to get back into the habit of doing. I have been writing, though. The short novel is now at 14,000 words or so.

The past few days have been pretty productive. I've been getting good hours in, and I got to write a more interesting part of the short novel. I basically wrapped up act 1 and now I'm starting act 2. Act 1 was 4 chapters, but Act 2 might be 5 or 6, depending on how inspired I am for content in the travelogue style.

In terms of word count, I think it will end up looking like 15k words for act 1, 20-25k words for act 2, and 5-10k words for act 3, which might only be a chapter or two long. I don't think this is such an unusual format. I do think I might cut a good chunk of act 1 out, though, as it feels like it drags quite a bit and I think readers would like to get into the travelogue portion faster. It depends how much I end up being able to come up with for act 2.

Tonight I should be able to get a few more hours of writing in. Given the rate things are going, I am hoping to finish my draft by the end of april at the latest. It might be a little earlier or a little later, but that's my hope. Then it's on to an extensive edit where I retool the content and flair a lot of the phrases. I think that'll take a month, at least.

I feel good about my progress though. The short novel should be published by mid summer, if all goes well. Then it's on to my big first novel!

Just a reminder - The names and content are all subject to change. Graphic imagery may be present in all previews. Here's this post's preview excerpt!

"Okay. You're right. Let's haul it in."

Lucy and Bram left the house, grabbed the air mattress and its proprietary air compressor, and returned to the same spot inside. Lucy held one end and walked away from Bram with it so it would be laying flat. She bent down to plug the air compressor hose into the fixture on the mattress itself. "Perfect!" Bram exclaimed. Lucy raised herself back up and drew a short icy breath, her eyes growing like balloons.

Bram looked at her, puzzled and with a raised eyebrow. The mulleted man with broken teeth from the diner was standing right behind him. Bram didn't notice. Lucy tried to speak - to warn him - but she couldn't exert more than air as the stranger raised one hand as if he were a cat about to catch a mouse. "What? Is somethi-" Bram was interrupted. Lucy couldn't tell what kind of strike the stranger had performed before she felt a pain on the back of her head and heard a ringing.

…

Bram woke up, startled. He struggled against a weight. His arms felt strange. They were numb. He noticed his legs felt similarly strange. Strangest of all was his head, however. It wasn't on a pillow. It wasn't on the ground. He opened his eyes and saw he was sitting up on his knees. His arms were immobile. He blinked several times and looked at himself again to see he was bound in rope and chains. The mist was as thick as milk in whatever room this was. It looked like a dungeon.

"Bram?" He heard Lucy say. "Bram???" She repeated.

"L-...Lucy? Honey?"

"I'm over here."

Bram turned his head around, still groggy, and found where Lucy was. He also shook his head as if realizing something. "God, what is that smell? It-" He began before jumping aback. There was a man in the room. Or Bram assumed he was a human man.

The figure stood some 7 or 8 feet tall, with a body just as wide, if not wider. He was drenched in velvet and silk robes and garments, all cobalt, violet, and fir. His head was as round and bald as a golf ball, and just as empty except for 2 large antlers protruding straight back from the back of his head, quite unlike antlers on a stag. The antlers supported what little blonde hair flowed off of the man’s pale head.

#author #creative writing #novel writing #writing #fiction #books #horror #vampire #current wip

[saturnianbooks]

My January reads

SO, my goal this year is to read 30 books. I have no idea if i'll be able to accomplish that much, i've only ever been able to read 24 books a year so far, because I'm a slow reader.

I thought i'd start loosely reviewing my reads here, for a bunch of reasons: I need to practice writing in English, I want to learn how to blog so why not start with something simple, and i don't actually know many people outside the internet who likes to talk about books, so here I am.

I'm currently on vacation, so I've managed to read six books (!), which was my expactation for the month. Six is quite a a high number for me, I usually read two per month. They were not bad ones, not big ones either. I threw in some classic English Literature that i've been meaning to read for a while. One of them is a graphic novel. Four of them were in Portuguese and only two in English, which is uncommon for me since i've learned to read full texts in English. Unfortunately, I'm still unable to read that much in French, i gotta work on that. Have in mind that i read mainly for entertainment and escapism. So here's some thoughts about these books:

Miss Davis

I love the illustration style of the book. It was based on Angela Davis' Biography, which i'm now meaning to read. I started it not knowing anything about Angela Davis, but it gave me the impression that the biography itself was more thorough than the graphic novel was. Still, it managed to portrait the inspiring woman she was, it's a good start to tell her story.

The Time Machine

I thought this book was going to be dark and scary, but it was actually very fun and reflective. I've never read H.G. Wells before, but i like his writing, it reminds me of Jules Verne's. It was immersive and the world-building was very well thought of, maybe a bit underexplored by the main character (to modern day standards at least). The 1800's ideals weren't AS present as it is in most works, so it was kind of easy to ignore them. I sure want to watch the movie and look for fix-it fanfictions about this one.

The Taming of the Shrew

Really, what was I expecting? Up to a point, the book was funny, i'll give it that. But then the machism was too hard to overlook. It wasn't the first Shakespeare book I read, but it wasn't the best either. I thought I would like this one, but ended up hating it.

Not Here to be Liked

I desperately needed to read something light and good after the last one's desaster. Not Here to be Liked was IT to me. It was exactaly what I was expecting: funny, immersive, I identified with the main character AND learned more about asian-immigrants-in-the-USA culture, it was cozy and the characters were so well made, i just wanted the book to never end so I could hang out with them. I almost didn't see the ending of the book coming my direction. Plus, it was a very cute story.

Malibu Rising

I don't know if the author meant it this way, but it felt like reading a coming of age story. In a good way. I don't think it was her best work, but I enjoyed it. It matched the current summer vibes i'm currently experiencing. The sibling dynamics really stood out to me in this story, rather than the romances, it was so good! I think the eighties vibes weren't as present as she managed to do the 70s and 60s in her other works, and the party experience could have been crazier, in my humble opinion. It was a fun one.

Macbeth

I struggled a bit with this one. Took me more time to read than it should have. I couldn't stop singing Hamilton in my head every time i opened the book. I love the witches in it, they were my favourite characters. The lack of closure for Fleance at the end of the play was curious to me. I think it was fun to read and very well set up.

And that was all! I'm hoping to read another set of 6 books in February. Will I manage to read them all? Will I remember to post about them at the end of the month? We'll find out in the next chapters, i guess.

~Mands

#SaturnianBooks #bookblr #book review #january reads #bilan culturel

[luxekook]

okay, bloomer ❃ myg

❃ pairing: floral assistant/rapper!yoongi x reader

❃ genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, slight crack, light angst and smut

❃ summary: spin-off sequel to ‘petal to the metal’; in which the reader visits a flower shop on her way home from work to treat herself to a flower and then keeps returning just to interact with the shop’s cute tsundere floral assistant. the last thing she expects is to see him ~spitting hot fire~ and looking hot as sin at her friend’s music event. how is she supposed to get flowers in peace now?

❃ word count: 10.2k

❃ warnings: 18+, cursing, violent imagery, mansplaining, tattooed and pierced yoongi, jealousy, mention of drinking, lots of sass, yoongi is soft as hell, rapping, jungkook being an idiot, smut [biting, blindfolding, bondage, sensory play, oral (f + m receiving), unprotected sex (WRAP IT), slight dom/sub themes, yoongi and reader are swiches, dirty talk, workplace sex]

❃ beta’d by: the amazing and gorgeous phia @meowxyoong​

❃ banner by: the iconic and beautiful danica @dee-ehn​

❃ commissioned by: my angel bby sweetheart jess @floralsuga​ UWU ILY AND I HOPE U LOVE THIS YOONGI AS MUCH AS I DO!!!!

The first time you enter the flower shop, it’s on a whim after a particularly bad day at work. You stomp down the street towards your apartment stewing over how Darryl can go screw himself as far as you are concerned. You almost flipped your desk today after the fifth time he tried to explain your own job to you. 

It’s like you haven’t been working at the graphic design firm for over three years and know all there is to know about typography and how it reads on book covers. You knew the moment your boss paired you with Darryl for this assignment, you were going to be in for a bumpy ride. You just didn’t expect the bumps to be of Mount Everest proportions.

You probably look crazy as you stalk down the block untethered in your rage, mumbling something about shoving your stylus so far up Darryl’s ass he’ll choke on your creativity. 

Somehow you unconsciously turn your head to admire a display of flowers blooming in a shop window. The blooming bunches of color call to you like a beacon of light in the darkness. Fuck it, you are going to treat yourself.

You dart across the street, dodging traffic. You need a flower. You need something that will brighten your evening and remind you that there is still beauty on this earth after all that mansplaining. And it seems that Of Fern & Freesia Flower Co. will be your oasis of choice. 

Squaring your shoulders, you push open the heavy wooden and glass door of the shop. The sound of a bell chimes in the air as you enter. A smile forms as you take in the array of greenery and petals surrounding you. The air smells like summer meadows and deep forests. 

Wandering around, you realize that it’s going to be harder than you thought to pick just one flower to go home with. As you near the back of the shop, you notice the general shop counter with a cash register, a small jar, and an array of flowers scattered across the deep oak wood. It seems like someone is piecing together a bouquet.

“Can I help you?” A low, languid voice calls out to you. Slowly, a boy emerges from the back room. Your eyes widen at the sight before you. He’s of average height with lean muscle and tattoos winding up both arms. His ears glint with multiple piercings, his left eyebrow has an intimidating slice through it, and his hair is a messy array of silver with a sexy as hell undercut. Yet, despite all of that tough exterior, the second you look at his face you melt.

The boy has the cutest face you have ever seen. His cheeks are full and pink, his nose is the most adorable little button, his lips are a dusky shade of rose. He has the face of an angel wrapped in a sinful package. Honestly, it’s unfair.

After a few moments, you realize he seems to be waiting for you to speak. Slitted eyebrow arched, he stares at you, dark eyes flicking over your own body.

“I’m looking to get a flower, but I just don’t know which one to pick,” You sigh, eyes shifting to glance around the shop once more. “There are so many beautiful ones to choose from.”

“Well,” The boy murmurs, “Sometimes one beautiful flower just stands out from the rest.”

Your eyes return to him, finally noticing the name-tag haphazardly pinned to his apron. Yoongi. His name is Yoongi. “And do you know which flower stands out today?” You ask, hands gripping your work tote so that you don’t do anything embarrassing like squish his chubby cheeks between your palms.

“Without a doubt,” He quirks a small smile in your direction before walking around the counter. Without a word more, he wanders down the rows of flowers and stops at a particular bunch of blue blossoms. He carefully selects one flower from the bunch and extends it out to you.

You accept the flower, examining it closely. It’s beautiful indeed. Shooting a glance at the sign attached to the bucket the flower had originated from, you smile as you read the label of ‘rare blue-tinted orchids’ (rare and unique beauty).

Turning back to Yoongi, you realize he has already begun to walk back to the counter. Quickly, you follow in his footsteps, carefully holding your flower in one hand and digging through your bag to find your wallet with the other. Upon reaching the counter, you gently place your orchid down to finally retrieve your wallet from where it had been lurking at the very bottom of your tote. 

“How much do I owe you?” You look up at Yoongi who had been staring at you with a peculiar expression on his face. 

He just shrugs, fiddling with one of the many silver rings adorning his fingers, “Nothing. It’s on the house.” 

“What?” You tilt your head in confusion, “But the sign said these are rare, so I’m sure it can’t be cheap.”

Again, Yoongi just lifts a shoulder lazily and shoots you a half smile, “I get an employee discount.” 

“Oh,” Your eyes fall under his intense scrutiny. They land on the small jar sitting next to the register. It’s labeled with a sticky note that says: “Feed Yoongi’s Dumpling Addiction”. 

“Dumplings, huh?” You grin at the cute boy and quickly grab ten dollars from your wallet, shoving the bill inside the jar. 

“Hey!” Yoongi pouts, “That’s not fair.” His cheeks are shaded a bright pink, “You can’t use my weakness against me like this.”

“I just did!” You laugh, slinging your bag over your shoulder and picking up your orchid once more. “Bye, Yoongi.”

You send him a wave and head back out into the night. You don’t realize he had stared out after you for quite some time with a small smile and a gleam in his eye. No, you are too busy picturing what it would be like to go get dumplings with a cute flower shop assistant. 

The next day at work you bring your flower along with you. Your desk needs some life breathed into it, and your flower does just the trick. Plus, you can't help but smile each time you look at it. 

And so when cursed Darryl waltzes over to you to talk about your project, you kindly tell him to fuck off. You know, in a safe for work fashion. You don’t need his bullshit or his bad vibes. Not when you can draw up romance novel cover designs with a certain boy in mind. It comes as no surprise to you as you realize later on that you had been drawing orchids woven throughout the book title.

The rest of the week passes by slowly as does the wilting of your flower. Yet on Thursday, your boss praises you for your flower designs, so much so that she decides to give you the company credit card to go buy a bouquet for the office as further inspiration. You tell her you know just the place. 

Taking an extended lunch break, you trek over to Of Fern & Freesia. Stepping through its doors brings an immediate smile to your face. You glance around, noticing a few other customers scattered throughout the shop. No sign of Yoongi.

You weave your way around the rows of flowers and the patrons that dot the aisles. A heavy feeling of disappointment settles in the pit of your stomach as you notice that there is a woman at the counter instead of the cute boy from a few days prior. The woman glances up as you approach, “Oh, hello! Welcome to Of Fern & Freesia. How may I help you?” 

“Hi, yes,” You shoot a furtive glance around, “I was hoping that you could recommend a bouquet?”

“Hm,” She nods, “Of course! What’s the occasion?” 

“It’s just for my office,” You explain, “We need some inspiration, and flowers seem to have helped lately.”

“I see,” She smiles, “Well, let me ask you if—” 

“Hey, boss lady! Do you know what happened to the lace ribbons? I can’t find— Oh,” Yoongi halts as he emerges from the back room and lays eyes on you. “Hello,” He mumbles, running a hand through his hair.

The woman helping you looks at Yoongi and then looks back at you and then looks at Yoongi again. A sly smile forms on her lips, “Well, well, well. Why don’t I go look for those lace ribbons while you help this customer here.” She turns to you, “My very best employee will be sure to take excellent care of you.”

Chuckling slightly, she disappears through the door that Yoongi had vacated a minute before.

“I’m your only employee!” Yoongi calls after her, the small smile on his face betraying his complaint. Still grinning slightly, he turns his brown eyes back to you, “Hello again…” He pauses, clearly waiting for you to fill in the unspoken blank.

“(Y/n),” You extend a hand out tentatively, “And you’re Yoongi.”

“That I am,” Yoongi smirks and takes your hand in his. You glance down at your clasped hands and marvel at how his hand fully engulfs yours. The heat of his palm burns into you while the coolness of his many rings makes you shiver. Eventually, you let go, certain your cheeks are as red as the display of roses to your left.

“Well, what can I do for you, (y/n)? Back for another flower?” His eyes flit around the shop briefly before returning to yours.

“A bouquet, actually,” You smile, “For the office. On the office.” You flash the company card that your boss had given you, and your stomach flips as he laughs – his dark eyes crinkling and his gums showing adorably. 

“Didn’t picture you working in an office,” He mumbles, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as his tongue pokes his cheek.

“Oh, so you’ve been picturing me, then?” You tease and internally sigh as he blushes fiercely, turning away from you.

“Yah, you know what I meant,” Yoongi scowls without any real menace, “You seem like you do something - I don't know - weird.”

You stare at him a moment and then burst into laughter. Yoongi pouts as you continue to crack up over his brazen observation. “I mean I guess designing romance novel covers isn’t the most conventional job, but it pays the bills and it’s pretty fun.”

“Romance novels?” Yoongi widens his eyes comically, “Don’t say that around the boss lady, she’s obsessed with them.”

“I heard that,” A yell sounds from the back room, “And I’m demoting you!”

“I’m demoted just by being associated with you!” Yoongi calls back.

You think you hear his boss mutter something about shoving a branch of redbud (betrayal) up Yoongi’s ass but you can’t be sure. Yoongi walks around the counter to lead you around the shop.

“What are you looking for, (y/n)?” His gaze is heated as it rests on you, and you bask in its glory.

“I’m good with whatever you recommend,” You shrug, “I’m in your hands.”

“Not yet,” Yoongi mutters under his breath; and before you can question that remark, he stalks off down an aisle, practically mowing down innocent shoppers. You trail after him, watching as he seems to be picking flowers at random. However, once he brings them all up front to arrange them, the flowers combine effortlessly into a beautiful bouquet.

“Wow,” You say softly, admiring the colorful arrangement before you, “This is beautiful, Yoongi. What kind of flowers are they?”

Yoongi rapidly fires off a number of flowers, most of which you had never even heard of before: honeysuckle and alstroemeria flowers (devotion), lilies of the valley (return of happiness), and petunias (your presence soothes me). 

As you hand him the company card to ring up your purchase, you notice a stray flower set aside from the bunch. “That one didn’t fit with the rest?” You joke, pointing to the multi-petaled pink flower.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, “Obviously not, (y/n). That one is for you.”

You let out an embarrassingly high-pitched giggle, “Well, excuse me for not being an expert, flower boy.”

He groans at the nickname, shaking his head in disgust. But, you see his lips twitching. God, he is so cute. You almost don’t even know how you had been intimidated by him at first. Even his tattoos and piercings are endearing to you now. You see them as a layer of protection he has in order to protect his soft heart.

Yeah, you are fucking whipped.

In an attempt to distract yourself from your growing infatuation, you glance down. The tip jar catches your attention, and you grin immediately as you read today’s inscription: “Yoongi’s Nap Fund: One Dollar = One Nap”. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Yoongi warns, but it’s too late. You shove another ten dollar bill inside. 

“Goddamn you,” Yoongi sighs, and the way he says it sounds like a confession. And you are so losing your marbles. And your job. You catch sight of the clock hanging on the back wall, and you are so, so late to get back to the office.

Cursing softly, you grab the bouquet and accept the flower Yoongi extends out to you, “Thanks, flower boy. I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

With that, you rush out the door, pulling a full Yoongi as you ruthlessly storm past customers on your way out. You unknowingly leave Yoongi in your dust, staring at you with what can only be affection. 

When you get home after your shift later that night, you quickly put your new flower in a mason jar with water and admire its beauty. After a quick google search, you identify the flower as a camellia. 

You fail to read further. But, if you had, you would have discovered the meaning of the flower Yoongi had gifted to you… My destiny is in your hands.

The next few weeks pass in a flurry of flowers - each prettier than the last. But that could just be the rose-tinted glasses you’ve been walking around with ever since you met Yoongi. You had visited Of Fern & Freesia such an embarrassing amount of times that you figured you should have a frequent flyer card.

But, who in their right mind could blame you when men like Min Yoongi exist? That’s right, you are on a full name basis now courtesy of one of Yoongi’s latest tip jars: “Support Min Yoongi in purchasing an off button for Jeon Jungkook”. 

With every visit came a new flower and a new post-it note on his tip jar. For instance, last Monday Yoongi gave you two stock flowers (you will always be beautiful to me), to which you immediately clowned him on for buying you stocks. He had just shaken his head at you - a common reaction from Yoongi that you had been on the receiving end of too many times to count. On that day, you had shoved a twenty dollar bill in the jar labeled: “New headphones for Yoongi’s silent, sad and lonely ears”. 

This Tuesday you had arrived at the shop right at closing. Your job had required you to stay for a late meeting because Darryl had fucked something up with his latest project. It’s honestly a wonder how he hasn’t been fired yet. After the meeting ended, you had practically run out of the office to make it to see Yoongi in time. When you stepped into the shop, you had been greeted with a growly yell of “We’re closed! Get lost!” And then when Yoongi came storming towards the front, he’d skittered to a halt, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find words.

You had just shyly waved like an idiot and then had turned to leave, only to be tugged back inside by Yoongi. “Come on,” He had said lowly, seeming quite exasperated with you, “I have your fix.” He had held your wrist all the way up to the counter as you blushed profusely behind him. He had handed you a zinnia (I mourn your absence), and you had added a couple five dollar bills to his jar simply entitled: “Do it. You won’t.”

And, finally, yesterday you had made sure to visit on time, clocking out of work at 5:00PM exactly. Your boss had even asked if you had a hot date. God, you had fucking wished. In all your hurry to get over to Of Fern & Freesia, you had forgotten one important piece of information that had been made crystal clear the moment Yoongi had locked eyes on you - you needed to do laundry.

Now, this might seem like an odd and offhand comment, but it meant that you had been wearing your more formal work clothes out of necessity. A form fitting pencil skirt with a tucked in button up blouse - both of which were on the tighter side from not being worn enough - paired with your favorite stilettoed ankle boots had been your outfit of choice and your last resort.

You had clicked and clacked your way up to the counter and had almost turned right back around at the look Yoongi had given you. His eyes had been the darkest you’d ever seen. You hadn’t quite been able to read the storm of emotions within them. Had it been anger? Annoyance? Attraction? 

God, you had prayed it was the last. 

When you had made it to Yoongi, he had let out a harsh breath before turning away from you for a moment. “Hey, flower boy,” You had said tentatively, “Are you okay?”

“I’m just peachy,” He had muttered, slamming down a few flowers on the counter. 

“O-o-okay,” You had responded, drawing out the word. You had stared quizzically at Yoongi as he fiddled with his rings, looking more on edge than you had ever seen him before. His eyes had flicked over your body, and then finally he had met your eyes.

“Sorry,” He had grumbled out, “You just caught me off guard. These are for you.”

As Yoongi had gathered the flowers he had slammed down on the counter, you had realized you still had your hair up and fastened with your stylus. Tugging it out of your hair, you had tousled your hair with your fingers for a bit and then had shoved the stylus in your bag. You had thought you had heard Yoongi choke slightly, but your ears surely had been playing tricks on you. 

You had grinned at him as you grabbed the flowers from his outstretched hands and then tucked a twenty in his tip jar inscripted with: “Help Yoongi endure Kim Seokjin’s presence for three hours.”

Later that night, you had realized that you really should have brushed up on your flower knowledge sooner because apparently the flowers he had given you were peach blossoms (I am your captive). While their meaning is still unbeknownst to you, you now appreciate the pun wholeheartedly. 

You had even tried to see him tonight, but he hadn’t been working for some reason. It’s hard not to assume the worst. Is he on a date? Oh god, has he had a girlfriend this whole time? A boyfriend? A partner? You almost call up your friend Jackson to cancel on his music event because all you want to do is sit down on your couch with the two men who will never let you down - Ben and Jerry. 

But, you can't.

Jackson would hunt you down and drag you there himself if he had to. He had done that very thing when you tried to bail on his last party. It hadn’t been your fault that you considered a midweek celebration of his five point increase on his credit score to be extra as hell. But that is just Jackson, and you adore him for it.

You met Jackson through your job. He sometimes models for the book covers that your company produces; because, let’s be real, Jackson is a whole snack. Unfortunately, you seem to be attracted to boys on the surlier side as opposed to those on the sunshine side of the spectrum.

Therefore, you and Jackson are great friends, and he brings out (READ: forces out) your more social side. Tonight, he is MCing a local music show at one of the bars downtown. It’s apparently some sort of open mic night. You just hope your ears are all in one piece when you return home.

The bar is crowded as hell as you slip through its doors. The entire back area has been converted into a stage, and you notice Jackson getting ready to begin MCing. Of course, he spots you immediately, waving incessantly. You can’t help but smile back widely and wave.

Squeezing your way through the crowd, you luckily spy a free barstool with a decent view of the stage. Quickly claiming it as yours, you order a beer and settle in for the night. Your eyes drift across the crowd, seeing some familiar faces of musicians you had seen before at events like this.

You even think you see the woman from Of Fern & Freesia in the back corner, but that’s probably just your brain playing tricks on you. Your attention is brought back to the stage as Jackson begins to announce the general lineup for the night and then the first performer.

As you listen to the first performance, your heart aches. The musician’s ballad is slow and soulful, its lyrics deep and jarring. What you wouldn't give to feel a love like that, too feel so deeply for another person and to have that returned unconditionally. Again, your mind turns to the damned flower boy who has been ruling your thoughts lately. And as the song ends, you clap along with the crowd like you hadn’t just planned out your entire future with a boy you had met just a handful of times.

You watch as Jackson introduces the next performance - some group called ‘Bangtan’ featuring some dude named ‘Suga’. What kind of name is that? A stage name, you hope.

Five boys jump onto the stage, and the crowd goes fucking wild. As you assess the boys with your own two eyes, you see the hype. They’re hot as fuck. 

Their performance begins with two of the boys singing. Your eyebrows raise as their sweet voices grace your ears. You almost fall into a sense of security as their vocals envelop you. And then the rapping begins.

Your jaw drops all the way down to the pits of Hades as you take in the sight of what can only be Yoongi, your sweet fucking flower boy, spitting crazy hot fire alongside two other beautiful boys. Had you somehow eaten an edible unknowingly on your way over here? Have you teleported into an alternate universe? Have you travelled into another dimension? Have you fallen into the fucking upside down?

God, he looks so fine. In all the times in the flower shop, you had only seen him in plain t-shirts, black jeans, and an apron. Therefore, your mind is fucking blown at the way Yoongi is wearing the shit out of a long white t-shirt, ripped blue jeans, a white and silver jacket, and silver chains. 

The boy is sauntering around the stage like he fucking owns it, all cocky and brash. Your attention is riveted by the sheer talent before you, but your sanity is in shambles. He drags a hand through his messy hair and his undercut peeks out from underneath. Damn, that hairstyle suits him well.

It seems the performance is over both too soon and not soon enough. And when Yoongi stays on stage all by himself, you silently pray to any higher power out there that you survive this. The low sound of the bass fills the bar as Yoongi lazily nods to the opening beats of whatever he plans on performing.

Almost by fate, Yoongi’s eyes meet yours. They widen as they take you in, and you are absolutely certain you also resemble an owl as you stare back. Like the dork that you are, you lift your beer up in a silent toast to him, and your stomach flips as his lips quirk.

And then he starts. You cannot look away. Somehow Yoongi rapping solo is just as good as the previous performance with the four others. It might even be better; but, then again, you are insanely biased at this point. 

As he performs, you lose the ability to speak, to cheer alongside the crowd. The way Yoongi commands the stage with his words, his presence, his talent is quite possibly the sexiest thing you have ever seen. The looks he sends you definitely don’t help. You might actually melt into a puddle on this very floor.

And you nearly do as Yoongi’s song ends and he sends you a wink as he hops off stage. God, you need to get it together before you track the boy down, tug him to you by his silver chains, and kiss the hell out of him and his talented mouth. 

Yeah, you need to leave ASAP. Shooting Jackson a text, you leave a twenty on the bar and haul ass out of there.

How are you supposed to face Yoongi after this? You can’t even pretend it didn’t happen because he had seen you. If you don’t go back to the shop, he might think you hated his performance. But, if you do go back to the shop, you’ll have to face the boy who had destroyed your ovaries on stage in front of multiple dozens of people. 

Lord, you are so fucking screwed.

Saturday and Sunday pass with many more existential breakdowns; and by the time Monday arrives, you decide that - fuck it - you are going to do some recon. 

You email your boss that you are running a bit late and head over to the flower shop. It is barely 9:00AM when you strut through the doors.

The woman you had seen once before startles as you burst in, “Oh hey, it’s you! Um, Yoongi doesn’t work until later.”

You swear you turn fifty shades of maroon, “I-I know.”

She also blushes, “Right, sorry. I haven’t had my coffee yet. How can I help you? Another bouquet?”

Before you can answer her, a boy bounds through the door holding two steaming coffee cups. He looks eerily familiar, but you can't quite place where you have seen him before.

“Morning, noona!” The boy beams at the woman, and then belatedly realizes you are also there. “Aish, sorry!” You gape as he somehow becomes small, huddling by his ‘noona’. “I didn’t realize you had a customer already.”

“That’s alright, Jungkookie,” She smiles at the admittedly cute boy who is now scrutinizing you for some reason.

“Aha!” Jungkook snaps his fingers, “I know you! You’re Yoongi-hyung’s g—”

The woman grabs Jungkook’s ear before he can continue, “Ignore him. Please.” She shoots the boy a dark look that sends him pouting.

You try your best, but the words are already flying through your mind. Yoongi-hyung’s girl? His girl insert-space-here friend? His gremlin? His goddess divine? His fucking Go-Gurt?

The possibilities are too endless; and so you pull a Spongebob and burn the memory from your brain for the sake of your rationality. You quickly grab the first flower you see - a love-in-a-mist (perplexity) - and pay for it before jetting out the door.

Your feelings? Unstable.

Your recon mission? Unsuccessful.

Your inevitable face-off with Yoongi? Unavoidable.

“I heard you came by yesterday morning.” 

You nearly jump out of your skin, barely having crossed the threshold of the flower shop before Yoongi slides right in front of you. “Holy sweet mother of god, Yoongi! Have you been lurking by the door just to scare me like this?”

Yoongi’s gaze darts around, decidedly not looking at you. “No?” He tries. You don’t let him succeed.

“Oh, really...” You arch an eyebrow and try to step around him, but Yoongi just matches your movements - effectively blocking you from advancing further.

“Stop trying to distract me,” He growls. His frown is admittedly cute instead of intimidating in the way he probably intends. “Why did you visit yesterday morning instead of last night?”

It’s your turn to avoid eye contact as you look for any possible avenue for escape. Yoongi gives you no room to budge or even any time to answer as he continues to question you. “Could it be…” He leans closer to you, “That you didn’t like what you saw on Friday?”

Your heart stutters in your chest as Yoongi grows closer still, his breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, “Or maybe… it’s that you did like it.”

Before you risk it all and pounce on him while he’s working, you pull a spin move around Yoongi that would even make Lebron proud. Trying to put as much distance  between the two of you as possible, you power-walk away from him, calling over your shoulder, “Yes, I liked it, okay? God.”

You weave your way between the shelves of flowers with Yoongi trailing your every move. That little shit is relentless in his pursuit. You shoot him an evil eye between two buckets of flowers that he steadfastly ignores, “What did you like about it?” Yoongi grins widely, “Come on, tell me. Tell me. Just tell me, tell me, tell m—” You round the aisle he is on and clamp a hand over his mouth.

“Min Yoongi, for the love of reese’s peanut butter cups, shut your mouth.” Your glare strengthens as you can just tell he’s smirking underneath your hand. It’s difficult to ignore the plushness of his lips pressed against your palm. Did he just lick his lips? With your palm over them?

“I liked the collaboration you did with Jungkook and the other boys,” You shoot back at him, desperate to take him down a peg, “It was cute.” With a victorious smile at his darkening expression, you tug your hand away and turn to walk away. But déjà vu strikes as Yoongi’s hand envelops your wrist.

He pulls you back into his chest as he leans down. You can feel his words flow from his chest as he murmurs, “Oh really? And did you know that Jungkook is happily in a relationship? What a bummer.”

“Uh, I don’t recall asking,” You retort, “But that’s great for Jungkook. Should I send him a card in congratulations?”

“Fuck, you are so frustrating,” Yoongi groans and lets out an exasperated laugh, “Are you really going to make me ask?”

“Undoubtedly,” You grin like the menace you are.

Sighing, Yoongi presses closer to you. “(Y/n),” His lips brush against your ear, “What did you like about me?”

The way that Yoongi’s scent wraps around you, the way his lips move against your skin, the way his words drip with sensual intent makes you cave almost immediately. “Well, you had some fire bars, bro,” You blurt out.

He stills for a second and then a laugh bubbles up from his chest. You pout as he doubles over, clutching his stomach. 

“Hey,” You complain, “I thought that’s what all the youngsters are calling it these days.”

Yoongi laughs harder, “Oh my god, please stop. I’m going to break a rib from laughing too hard.”

You sniff, “Well, consider that the first and last compliment you will get from me. Ever.”

That shuts him up real quick. “Aw, babe,” He whines, following you as you move towards the counter in the back of the shop. Thank god there are no other customers to witness your complete degeneration into Min Yoongi Trash™. 

You slouch against the counter as you reach it, turning to face him. “Don’t ‘aw, babe’ me, babe. Now, get me my flower.”

Your sass does nothing but bring a smile to Yoongi’s face, and your frown deepens.

“I know just the thing,” He smirks. 

You don’t trust it. At all.

Yoongi goes behind the counter and grabs a little potted flower from behind the register. He pushes it over to your side slowly. “It’s a potato vine flower (you are delicious),” He says, like that explains everything. “It reminds me of you.”

You gape at the admittedly pretty triad of flowers intertwined together in the small silver pot. “A flower with potato in its name reminds you of me?” Your eyes narrow down into slits as you stare at him.

“Those are the words that came out of my mouth, yes.” His lips quirk at your growing ire.

“Hmph,” You turn up your nose, “Well, I will take it as a compliment. Potatoes are great, versatile, and goddamn tasty.”

“Indeed,” Yoongi smiles, running a hand through his hair. The rings adorning his fingers glisten under the shop’s lights, and you cannot help but follow his hands as they once again return to his sides.

You can feel your face warming as indecent thoughts of his hands on you fly through your brain. As your gaze remains lowered, it falls upon the tip jar. Today, it reads: “Help Yoongi fulfill his dream… of doing absolutely nothing”.

Before Yoongi can stop you, you shove a twenty into the jar. “Thanks for the potato plant, Yoongi,” You try to hide your smile as he - as predicted - gets into a huff over your incorrect identification.

“It’s a potato vine flower!” He yells after you as you walk away, “You know that, right? It’s important to me that you know that!”

“Po-tay-to, po-tat-oh,” You call back to him, laughing as you ignore his groan of protest. Provoking Yoongi might just become your new favorite hobby.

Work consumes your next few days and prevents you from visiting your lovely little flower boy. Obviously, that has contributed to your mood taking a turn for the worse. But, it’s also done a steep nosedive because fucking Darryl is back at it again with his misogyny. You really shouldn't be surprised at this point, but here you are, surrounded by cleaning supplies, one concerned model, and one indifferent photographer.

Your joint project is culminating tomorrow - book cover proposal for one of the industry’s top romance authors. The one job, the one fucking job, you had given Darryl was to buy props. And guess what Darryl had gotten? Fucking mops.

“I thought you just wanted to clean or some shit,” He had said and then had the nerve to shrug.

Oh, you are going to clean alright. Clean him right out of his office, you will. Using him as the broom you personally sweep the floor with. 

Now, your cover model Jinyoung is here, and there is nothing to make this shoot interesting. Jinyoung, one of Jackson’s close friends and fellow model, awkwardly tries to comfort you as you stew in your rage in the corner of the studio.

“What are we going to do?” You cry for the tenth time, getting ready to either burst into tears or to burn the building to the ground. At least Darryl had made himself scarce ever since you tore into his ass for a solid fifteen minutes. Honestly, that had been the highlight of your day.

“Are there any props around here?” Jinyoung suggests. You look around the studio only to find the photographer Mina scrolling through her phone and an assortment of lighting fixtures against the white backdrop. Suddenly, your gaze snaps back to Mina - more specifically to her floral patterned shirt.

“Come with me,” You grab Jinyoung’s hand and tug him out the door, “Mina, I’ll be back in ten!”

The photographer sends a thumbs up, and you and Jinyoung are on your way. “Where are we going?” He chuckles as you keep tugging him along out of the building and down the street.

“We are going to improvise,” You grit out as you stomp towards your destination, hand still grasping Jinyoung’s tightly. Finally, you arrive at Of Fern and Freesia. “We’re getting flowers,” You declare and enter the shop with Jinyoung in tow.

“Alright then,” He mutters, probably thinking that he doesn't get paid enough for this. And honestly neither do you - especially when you lock eyes with Min Yoongi and his face looks like thunder. You become hyper-aware that you are still clutching onto Jinyoung as Yoongi’s eyes fall to focus on your clasped hands. His jaw tightens. 

And then his expression clears like nothing had even happened. 

Your heart beats fast in your chest as you watch as Yoongi turns and walks into the back room of the shop without a backwards glance.

Had that been a display of jealousy just now? It could not have been. Nope.

You shove this whole thing aside. You aren’t Yoongi’s anything. Just like he isn’t yours. 

You clasp Jinyoung’s hand tighter as you haul him towards a selection of roses. “What do you think of any of these?” You ask Jinyoung and point to the different colored roses. 

“Uh, they’re nice,” Jinyoung doesn’t seem too committed to your search, but you pay that no mind. You have one goal: do not get fired. Actually, no. You have a second goal: get Darryl fired. 

You pluck a red rose (love) and a burgundy rose (unconscious beauty) out of their respective buckets. Holding them up next to Jinyoung, you try to envision the book cover. But instead of seeing Jinyoung with rose petals raining down around him, you see Yoongi sprawled out across your bed with petals scattered around him.

Not the time, (y/n)! 

Oh, god. The time!

You quickly grab the entire bucket of red roses and gesture for Jinyoung to grab the burgundy rose bucket. “We’ll get both and figure it out later,” You say, moving onwards towards the counter. Jinyoung follows you obediently. 

When you make it to the counter, you both plop the buckets down. 

“Couldn’t have just one, huh?” 

You and Jinyoung jump as Yoongi appears from behind you as he rounds the counter. 

“Had to take them both?” He continues, his expressionless face is worrisome. But, you do not have the time to analyze it or his confusing words right now.

“Uh, yeah? Yoongi, listen, we’re really late, and I need to pay quickly. I can explain later. Please.”

Your voice cracks on your last word, and Yoongi’s blank expression softens slightly as he sighs, “Okay, (y/n).” He accepts your credit card that you have outstretched to him and rings your flowers up.

“Thank you, Yoongi. You’re a lifesaver,” You say in a tiny voice, going to grab your wallet when you realize you don’t actually have cash on you right now. You’ll have to come back later.

“Yeah, thanks, man,” Jinyoung says, giving Yoongi that classic headnod that ‘bros’ do. 

Yoongi shoots Jinyoung one of the iciest glares you have ever seen; and yet, somehow, Jinyoung just smiles without a care. 

“You’re welcome, (y/n),” Yoongi replies, handing you back your card along with the receipt. “Oh, I also have flowers for you - for both of you.” He snags two different flowers from the shelf behind the counter and holds one out to each of you.

You accept the pretty white flower which Yoongi calls a polyanthus lily (pleasures that inevitably cause pain), while Jinyoung gingerly accepts a cluster of smaller yellow flowers. Yoongi smugly declares them to be tansies (I declare war against you). 

Thanking Yoongi again, you rush out of the shop with a bucket of roses in your hands and a model hot on your heels. You have a shoot to save and a bone to pick. It is time to get shit done.

Seven exhausting hours later, you emerge from your workplace with a sense of bitter accomplishment. Your shoot with Jinyoung had gone as well as it could have given the circumstances.

You and Mina had gotten as creative as you could have with the hundred roses you had bought from Of Fern & Freesia. You had showered Jinyoung in rose petals, you had made him place a rose between his teeth, and you had him extend one flower out like the Bachelor.

God, if you hadn’t been half in love with your flower boy you might have kissed Jinyoung for being such a good sport. Instead, you had settled for personally calling his agency to sing his praises and for making a note to send him a bonus.

Another win had come later this afternoon when you had been lucky enough to bear witness to Darryl’s termination. Your boss had been horrified to hear about Darryl’s fuckup and about all of the other bullshit he had put you through. As it turns out, she had already been keeping tabs on him for similar suspicions and this had been all the evidence she needed to seal the deal.

The look on Darryl’s face had been life changing. It had carried you through the last few hours of editing and arranging the final book cover proposal.

And so, finally, you drag your tired ass back to Of Fern & Freesia to both tip Yoongi for earlier and to give an explanation for the brevity of your afternoon visit. That is, if he is even still working at this hour. The shop is nearing its close, and you just hope you aren’t too late.

The bell chiming is the only sound that greets your ears as you enter the shop. The place is absent of the customers who usually roam around the aisles, examining flowers. Undeterred, you walk towards the back of the shop.

Yoongi is slouched over the counter, typing away furiously on his phone. He doesn’t look up as you approach as it seems he’s lost in his own virtual world.

“Paging florist Yoongi,” You call softly and smile as Yoongi is finally the one to get jumpy.

“Yah,” He cries, slapping a hand to his heart, “What are you trying to do, woman?”

“I’m trying to greet you, duh,” You roll your eyes, biting back a grin. 

“All alone this time?” Yoongi sets his phone on the counter, turning his full attention - and sass - to you.

“Alone? Please,” You scoff, “My FBI agent is surely tailing me somewhere nearby.”

“There goes that mouth,” Yoongi mutters darkly, his eyes dropping to your lips for a split second. He leans closer to you over the counter, “Tell me, (y/n)... Does your boyfriend like it when you talk back like that, too? Or is that all that attitude just for me?”

You mirror his actions, leaning over the counter and bringing your face closer to his. “He would like it... If he existed.”

Yoongi’s eyes widen slightly before narrowing, “Really? Then who was that boy you came in here with earlier? So you’re saying that you hold hands and buy flowers with just anyone?” His attention on you is hard and absolute, but you don’t flinch. 

You lean closer, lips only an inch or two away from his. “Hm,” You say, in mock confusion, “I didn’t realize that the last Daylight Savings had shifted us all the way back to the 14th century. Oh, wait. It’s still 2020, and I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

Before you can blink, Yoongi’s hands shoot out to cradle your face and his lips are on yours. A gasp slips between your lips, and Yoongi takes advantage of your shock to slip his tongue into your mouth, tasting you. He pulls back slightly, his lips brushing yours as he mutters, “You are so goddamn infuriating. You walk around here looking like a fucking thirst trap when I have to be Professional Yoongi™, and then you say these absurd things that only make me want you more, and then you show up at my music show and almost make me forget every word I have ever known, and now the only melodies and lyrics that run through my brain relate to you, and so I am just losing my goddamn mind over you—”

You kiss him. “Shut up, you giant adorable idiot,” You mumble against his lips, “And for the record, I liked you first.”

Yoongi pulls away from you and shakes his head, “No way, babe. I’ve liked you since the moment I saw you standing at this counter for the first time last month.” 

You cross your arms, “Oh yeah? Well, I’ve liked you since you walked out of that back room right there to help me for the first time last month. So, it looks like we’re even.” 

“Even?” Yoongi grins, ducking down to pull something off the shelf below the counter. “That’s cute. But, I win,” He straightens, placing a bigger tip jar that you’ve never seen before onto the counter between you. Slowly, he turns it around so that the post-it note attached to it is displayed for you: “Cute girl (Y/n) and Yoongi’s Date Fund”. 

“Wow, am I not cute anymore?” You joke, looking up at Yoongi who rolls his eyes.

“That was before I knew your name, babe, and (y/n) is too beautiful a name not to be written at every opportunity.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. Your cheeks flush traitorously as you smile, “You’re so full of shit, Min Yoongi.”

“Am not,” He argues, moving around the counter over to your side. Just when you think he’s trying to get closer to you, he moves past you.

“Where are you going?” You trail after him, pausing when you notice he’s pulled a ring of keys from his pocket. Your eyes widen to their full extent as you watch him lock up the shop and flip around the sign to read: “Closed”.

Yoongi turns back around. “Come here, (y/n),” He says, his voice deep, his lips tugging into a smirk. 

You resort to your instinctual reaction whenever someone issues you an order, “Make me.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Yoongi prowls towards you. You back up with every step he takes, and before you know it, your back is up against the counter. Yoongi’s arms cage you in on either side of your body. He’s so close. The heat from his body sears into you and you think you might just faint from proximity.

“What do you want from me?” You whisper as Yoongi’s head dips to place soft kisses along your neck.

“I want you,” He says without a pause or hesitation, “In any way you’ll give me.”

“And would I get you in return?” You sigh as Yoongi sucks lightly on the skin right below your ear.

You feel his smile before he answers, “Babe, you already have me.”

Your heart swells. He is yours. But in true (y/n) fashion you cannot help but to fuck with him further, “Ah, well that just disincentivizes giving myself to you. Since I already have you, why should I let you have me?”

Yoongi bites your neck lightly in response to your teasing, and you are too surprised to catch the moan before it winds its way out of your mouth. “Fuck, baby, I need to hear you make that sound again,” Yoongi growls, his hands gripping your thighs before lifting you onto the counter. “Let me have you,” He begs, pulling his head back to stare at you. His pupils are so blown out, and you are certain yours are the same way.

His hands are still gripping your thighs as you clench them together as best you can with Yoongi in between. 

“Oh,” Yoongi murmurs, looking too pleased, “Is my baby desperate for my touch already?”

“Puh-lease,” You reply, “Don’t act like you aren’t hard as fuck right now, Min.” 

“That’s besides the point. I’ve been hard for you since you walked in here in that tight as fuck skirt and those fucking heels,” Yoongi scowls. “And then you had the audacity to take your hair down like some sort of seductress. I had to jerk off like three times that night.”

“Oh,” You grin evilly, “You mean… like this?” You reach up to pull the pencil out of your topknot, successfully sending your hair tumbling down your shoulders. You shake your head slightly to help the strands settle and bask in Yoongi’s dark expression complete with clenched jaw.

“That’s it,” Yoongi’s hands slide under your thighs, and suddenly you are thrown over his shoulder.

“Yoongi!” You cry as he carries you into the back room of the shop.

“Shut it, you,” Yoongi spanks your ass once, and you let out a tiny squeak before you are set down on a marble island amidst a room full of flowers, ribbons, and anything even remotely related to bouquet-making. 

You’re too distracted by the beauty that surrounds you to notice that Yoongi is grabbing something from a nearby shelf. He returns to stand in front of you once more. “Let me taste you,” He says as if he’s asking for the time of day. 

“If you must,” You feign indifference, but your smile betrays you.

“Clothes off,” Yoongi says, his voice deeper than you’ve ever heard it. You don’t think twice before stripping out of your blouse and unbuttoning your dark jeans.

“You’re gonna have to help me, Yoongi,” You sigh as you stare down at the lack of room Yoongi is giving you to stand to take off your pants.

“It would be my honor,” Yoongi replies, and you groan at his dramatics. “Ass up,” He commands. You lean back onto your elbows and lift your ass up so that he can take your jeans off successfully.

“Damn, baby,” His eyes burn into you as he takes in the sight of your body covered just barely by your lace bra and panties. Tugging a scrap of ribbon from his pocket, Yoongi approaches you, “Can I blindfold you?”

“Kinky,” You breathe, nodding. Yoongi grins and gently ties the soft ribbon around your head, effectively surrounding you in darkness.

“Lay back,” He murmurs. You do so, shivering slightly as your skin meets the coolness of the marble. A soft kiss is placed to your cheek before you feel a brush of something else cross your neck.

You gasp as what you can only imagine could be a flower is dragged along your body, dipping in between your breasts, down across your stomach, ghosting over your hips. All of your senses are buzzing, hyper-aware of everything but your sight.

And so when you feel a finger slowly stroke you over your panties, you let out a gasp. “Yoongi,” You moan, your hips shifting in vain to bring his hand closer.

“Say my name again,” He growls, and you hear a snip along with a quick touch of metal.

“Yoongi,” You chastise, “Did you just fucking cut my underwear off?”

“Hm, not quite the tone I was asking for but it’ll do,” The grin is apparent in his voice and you open your mouth to lay into him when his tongue slides between your folds.

“Fuck,” You sigh, your hand winding down your body to clutch at his hair, “Yoongi, please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Yoongi mumbles, and then you are suddenly moved closer to the edge of the island and his mouth is on you.

His lips kiss over every inch of your pussy, his tongue flicks out every so often to drag over your clit. It’s slow and torturously sweet. Your back arches as Yoongi suddenly sucks lightly at your swollen bud. 

“Yoongi.” 

That sets him off. You feel Yoongi’s finger tease your entrance, lightly pushing in and out as his mouth continues to suck and caress your pussy.

“Please.”

His finger sinks into you, and you curse, moaning Yoongi’s name as he continues to push in and out of you. Though your vision is taken, you begin to see white as you hurtle towards the precipice.

Another finger is thrust inside you and you cry out. “Fuck, baby,” Yoongi growls, “You are so wet for me, so tight, so delicious. Tell me when you’re close. I want you to come in my mouth.”

Fuck, he’s filthy. You think you might love him.

“I’m already close, you little shit,” You groan as he sucks your clit harshly, making you somehow see stars.

Yoongi immediately switches things up, his tongue sinks inside you as his fingers rub your clit in quick, light circles.

You come with a scream, feeling Yoongi sucking and lapping up everything you give him. He carries you through your orgasm, and finally you sink back onto the marble.

And then you rip off the blindfold.

“My turn!” You grin, blinking furiously as your eyes readjust to the light of the room. You sit up. Yoongi is still kneeling between your legs, gazing up at you with wet lips and a feral expression.

“Your turn?” He arches an eyebrow and stands. You take advantage of his movements and hop down off the island.

“Those are the words that came out of my mouth, yes,” You throw his own words from a few days ago back in his face.

You can tell he remembers when he laughs slightly, his eyes crinkling adorably. 

“Now get naked, Min Yoongi,” You command, unhooking your bra and letting it fall to the ground.

Yoongi groans at the sight of you and then whips his shirt off, throwing it at you.

Laughing, you catch it and chuck it to the side. Before you know it, Yoongi stands naked before you. His torso is also covered in ink, his nipples are pierced, his cock is hard.

You slowly walk over to him, excited by how the tables have turned now. “Blindfold?” You ask, dangling the satin ribbon in front of you.

He shakes his head swiftly, “No, I need to see you.”

You grab his cock and revel in the hiss of breath he sucks in, “Baby boy, I don't think you understand who is in charge here.”

“Fuck,” He moans, both at your words and at the slow movements of your hand along his length. 

“Now, since you made me come particularly hard, I’m going to give you another option: I tie your wrists.”

Yoongi looks pissed, “I have to pick one?” 

You take your hand away, and he caves instantly. “Fine! Tie my wrists.”

“Good boy,” You smirk, “Now lay on the island like I just did.” You watch as he listens, grumbling all the while about how he wanted to touch you and how this was some bullshit. He’d learn.

Finally, Yoongi is in position and gives out a big sigh like he just went through so much effort. So extra.

You make quick work of his wrists, tying them above his head loosely. “Let me know it gets to be too much for you, okay?” You kiss him softly and swiftly and smile as he tries to chase your lips as you pull back.

You hop onto the island and slowly kneel over Yoongi. Your knees are on either side of his calves as you lean down, arching your back so your ass is high in the air, and then you suck the tip of his cock into your mouth.

The moan that Yoongi emits is so sexy that you almost skip right to sitting on his dick - almost. Instead, you just speed up, swirling your tongue around him and cradling his balls in your palm.

“Fucking hell, baby,” Yoongi rasps out, his eyes squeezed shut, “Your fucking mouth.”

You smile around him and take him further inside your mouth. Yoongi chokes out more curses than you have ever heard before. And when you swallow around him, he groans, “I’m gonna come. Wanna come on your tits.”

You release him with a pop. “No,” You say, sitting back on your heels. 

Yoongi’s neck strains as he looks down at you, “Please, (y/n), baby, I need you. Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy.” His head falls back as he smirks slightly, “I can’t believe that you just sucked my dick and that I actually got to eat you out just now. Damn, I don’t know how I got so lucky. Maybe I saved someone famous in my past life. Or maybe I was Spiderman—”

Moving quickly, you settle further up his body, hovering over his cock. Your hand covers Yoongi’s mouth. “Are you malfunctioning? Oh my god, I broke you. And to think I was going to sit on your dick next… That’s too bad. I don't think you can handle it.”

His eyes widen to the size of dinner plates as he stares up at you, “Mmph!” His words are muffled by your palm.

“What’s that?” You tease, leaning down to slowly suck on his nipple, swirling the piercing around with your tongue. “You still want me to?”

This time, you remove your hand so he can reply fully. As soon as your palm leaves, Yoongi cries, “Please, please, please, baby. Take me inside you. I’ll make you feel good, I promise!” 

“Well,” You straighten, grabbing his cock and lining him up with your entrance, “Since you asked so nicely.”

Slowly, you sink down. Inch by inch you watch as Yoongi’s face scrunches up as he murmurs your name like a prayer. Finally, you take him all the way inside. “Well, how does it feel, baby?” You grin.

“Like fucking heaven,” He groans, his fists clenching above him as he tries to thrust into you as best he can.

“Relax, baby,” You place a palm on his chest, “Let me take care of you.” With that, you begin to move. Your hips swivel slowly at first and then pick up the pace. You feel him twitching inside you and you know that he’s already close from how well you sucked him off earlier.

You ride him hard, sliding up and down his hard cock and watching his face as you ruin him. His breathing is harsh and his legs begin shaking beneath you, “Fuck, shit, damn, baby, please.”

His words are a garbled mess as you clench down around him, beginning to feel your own orgasm rising. “Don’t you dare come yet, Min Yoongi,” You hiss, leaning back slightly to take him deeper.

“Baby-y, please.” You watch enraptured as a tear slips out of his eye. Yoongi’s abs are clenching and you know he is so fucking close to coming. 

“Look at me,” You order, sliding a hand down your body to circle your clit. He listens and groans immediately at the sight of you.

“Watching you ride me makes me want to come even more!” He whines, but nevertheless keeps his eyes on you. You smile and moan softly as you continue to ride him, flicking your clit between your fingers. You’re close now. 

Your movements become frantic as you bounce on his cock, your hips shifting over his. You hurtle towards your climax and you tighten around him, “Come.”

Immediately, you feel him come inside you, painting your walls and filling you with warmth. You light up as you come for the second time that night, your walls pulsing around his cock, milking him. 

Yoongi is undone underneath you, his head is thrown back, throat on full display. He is muttering something about the sweetest pussy ever and wedding rings. And he looks so good that you can't resist laying down on top of him, kissing his neck. “You good, baby boy?” You smile in between kisses.

“I think you did break me,” He mumbles, his hands settling on your hips. Wait a second…

“How did you untie yourself?” You pout, relaxing into Yoongi’s chest as his hands rub your ass.

“Silk is slippery, babe,” You can practically hear his grin, “But not as slippery as your pus—”

“Min Yoongi!” You cry, hopping off of him. He whines as he slips out of you but then licks his lips as he notices his own cum dripping down your legs. 

“Come here,” He crooks a finger at you.

“Make me,” You retort once again, smirking slightly. 

He groans, “I don't think I can even move right now if I wanted to. But come on, sit on my face.”

“Wow, such language!” You slap a hand over your heart, “My delicate ears will never recover!”

“You’re the worst,” Yoongi laughs, easing up to sit. “Damn, I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard.”

“Nice,” You nod proudly, “Leave that review on Yelp, please.”

His dark eyes narrow, “Who else is leaving reviews, (y/n)?” 

Laughing, you tug on Yoongi’s discarded t-shirt, “Oh, you know, the rest of my harem of flower boys.”

“What!” Yoongi makes a miraculous recovery as he jumps off the island and tugs you to him, “I’m your flower boy, baby. You’ll never need anyone else.”

Smiling widely up at him, you simply reply, “Okay, bloomer.”

a/n: flower meanings sourced from: The Complete Language of Flowers: A Definitive and Illustrated History by S. Theresa Dietz AND The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh [again, meanings differ depending on the source!)

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