#ALSO near the beginning of the movie where he tells his coworker about the dream theory- | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wornoutmouse · 3 years

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Last one I promise to stop bothering you ahhhhh . Can we plz get a Iida Tenya (pro hero age) smut (I love this guy) like maybe you reader catching him jerking off can you imagine prim and proper tenya doing dirty things? And things get crazy after:) thank you for listening to the rambles of a crazy woman

Your wish is my command

We all know Iida has a big dick right?

And yes i looked up black hairstyles cause i just started doing my own hair leave me alone 🤚🏿

Dubious Consent, blackmail, squirting

Working for the Iida family was honest but harsh work. They strived for professionalism and didn’t allow mistakes, no matter how small. With each member holding a leading title in almost every section of Japan, it was a no-brainer that you would choose to work with them. The only problem was, your socially oblivious boss.

One would think that as the new Ingenium’s sidekick, you would have an insider’s look into his personality and lifestyle, but that was farthest from the truth. For the 2 years that you’ve worked alongside him, you had been kept at a distance and forced mainly to handle the paperwork.

According to him, until he was sure you could handle yourself on the field, you needed to stay away from danger. In hindsight, you would have understood that choice and would have been completely fine with it. However the fact you couldn't m could never learn to handle yourself in the feels if you were never allowed on the feels was a glowing contradiction

Spending time with your boss was informative yet draining. He always set an example of a good business deal and would always explain things you didn’t understand.

The downside however, was his obsession with the non-existent dress code. Since you don’t do any outside work lately, you never put on your hero costume. So i you were always dressed in normal clothes, and every last one of them he had something to critique about.

“Here’s your coffee Mr. Iida.” The bluenette man hummed his appreciation and you turn to sit back at your corner desk.“Miss L/n….”

You tense, preparing yourself as the sound of his chair scraping against the hardwood floors announced his incoming presence. His heavy footsteps loomed closer until he stopped just barely behind you.

Your legs are kicked apart and you find your boss kneeling below you with a measuring tape. “I am appalled, your skirt is 4 centimeters away from the recommended 5 inches above the knee, we do not run a brothel here, please respect the code Miss L/n!”

You sighed, it was best to just go along with his antics. “Yes, Mr. Iida, I’m sorry for my ignorance.” As you bowed you faintly heard a small choking sound and Iida’s hands grabbed your shoulders to raise you back up. “I’ll have none of that bowing, it was a simple mistake.” He pushed up his glasses before stiffly walking back to his desk.

When he came back into view, his face was slightly flushed from what you assumed to be the heat, “I am printing something in the room below, do you mind getting it for me?” You nod and headed out the door. It may have been your imagination but you could have sworn you heard a faint curse word coming from your boss’s mouth.

Reaching the lower room was quick and effortless so you sat and waited for the presumed paperwork Iida was printing. Many of your coworkers passed you with pitying looks that you did your best to ignore. You knew that this life was not one strived for by an aspiring hero but you couldn’t just up and leave.

Your head began to itch slightly. Why is it taking so long to print? While you pondered the situation, you watched a short woman walk up to the copy machine and begin copying her own set of work. You felt your eye twitch, there wasn’t anything even programmed to print.

You stood up and quickly made your way back to your office. Stepping inside, you look blandly at your enclosed room. The memory of your boss's large windowed room flashes through your mind and you decide to work out there instead.

As you walked to the door that connected your office to his, you tilt your head curiously as a loud muffled growl comes from inside. "F-Fuck yes, suck that cock!"

His voice was guttural, and the words were something you would never dream of him saying. But what stuck out to you more was where it was all happening. I know this man ain't screwing at work!!

Without thinking you barge into the room and your jaw drops at the sight.

Sitting in your chair, was your boss, Tenya Iida. His hair was disheveled and his suit was reduced to nothing but his white shirt and open slacks. He was flushed from the neck up and sweat had accumulated in his brow.

Held tightly in his right hand was his dick and it was just as dodged as him. It was also bigger than you imagined

….not that you even imagined it in the first place.

Angry blue eyes dart up to look at you through low hanging bangs and you realised you had been staring. "This is uh… Sorry!" You internally cringe at the fact you stuttered.

As you turn around to leave, you are restricted by Iida's voice. "Stop." Almost as if in a horror movie, you turn back to him slowly and it takes all your willpower not to look down as he had shamefully left his manhood out.

You press yourself against the door as you watched Iida remove his glasses and place them on your desk. "It's rude not to knock Miss L/n." You swallow shallowly when he raises a finger to motion you forward and for a moment you lose all rational as you soon found yourself standing in front of him.

His legs were spread wide open and his dick looked like it was ready to bust any moment. The tip had become an even darker red hue, contrasting ironically with the trimmed layer of dark blue curls nestled at the base.

Despite the situation, the man before you sat looking rather relaxed. He slowly rolled up his sleeves and you caught sight of swirling tattoo sleeves wrapping around each bicep. "Come closer Y/n, I promise not to bite very hard."

He had never used your first name before and that seemed to compel you to move closer, allowing him to use your wrist to place you in-between his legs. "There is a very important rule that I have yet to teach you in the world of business."

The trained look he had focused on you left no room for argument as one of his large hands easily wrapped around your upper thigh. A shiver runs up your spine as his thumb strokes your skin slightly under your skirt. "When one has even an ounce of blackmail against you…"

Iida grabs the front of your blouse and uses it as leverage to tug you to the ground. Down there, fingers gingerly comb through your freshly dyed Nubian Twists, "... you need to blackmail them as well, fair trade and all that."

The grip in your scalp tightens and you feel your eyes slightly water at the sharp sting. The other hand still holding his cock, positions it towards your full lips as a silent order. Salty precum covers your mouth and your tongue darts out to lick it off. The sight was porn worthy.

Before you got too carried away, you decided to see how far you could push him. You bring your hands to softly wrap around his member as you gauged his response. "If I agree to this arrangement, what will I get in return?"

Iida sighed as you licked his dick starting from the balls to just below the top, "What do you want, a raise?" You shake your head and kiss a thick vein traveling along his shaft. "I want to work out there, as your official sidekick."

You could tell his patience was running thin as his hips twitched so you wrapped your mouth around the top, pressing the flat of your tongue against the slit. Iida looked down at you, teeth nibbling roughly on his bottom lip. "Why...ah~ why should I let you work anywhere near me after this!?"

In a bout of anger, you accidently let your teeth drag down the sensitive skin. Iida's eyes roll to the back of his head in such a way that you couldn't pinpoint it as a result of pain or pleasure. "I can easily report your victimizing and unprofessional behavior to HR."

Iida's eyebrows furrowed and he yanked you off of his cock. You stand up shakily before being slammed against his glass table. "You got a lot of nerve, making demands yet you're the reason I was being so unprofessional."

Iida slides down to his knees and raises your skirt over your plump ass. You internally groan as you remember the matching baby blue lingerie you were wearing, that was not going to help your case. Iida slaps your right asscheek nice and hard making you moan softly. "Who is this for?"

You decide to play into it, you sway your hips a little and stick your butt out closer to his face. "It's for me, myself, and I." Iida pulls at your panty strap before letting it snap back. You had to admit it stung. Giving attention to your other cheek, a tan hand takes hold of it and squeezes hard.

"And if I let you work with me, what is my reward?" Iida uses his teeth to pull the fabric of your underwear away from your hidden prize. You hummed as if in thought, "Good karma?"

Lips wrap around your clit and suck hard, "Sorry that's not good enough for me." You grind back on his face and relax on his table more. His hot tongue massaged and prodded your lips and clit, but never got close to being inside of you.

"Working as a pro hero is karma filling in itself, but it is stressful. Not enough time for personal focus."

Iida sucked on two of his fingers before siding them up and down your slit, taking extra time to teasingly delve past your opening before retreating just as fast. You groan, "What do you want me to do, suck your dick under the table on weekends?!"

Iida hums as he joins his mouth along with his fingers. You sigh as his large middle finger finally breaches you and sends soothing sparks throughout your body as it rubs against your walls. The combined stimulation of his hot tongue against your clit, and his even warmer fingers barely grazing against your g-spot had you in pure ecstasy.

"As convenient as that sounds, if someone were to find out we'd be in a lot of trouble." At this point you're bouncing back on his fingers giving Iida a show as your pussy squelches around his fingers. Your mouth hands open in soft pants, fogging up the clear glass below you.

Iida stand up as he continues to finger fuck you in the same rythm as he pumps his cock. "How about dinner and we see how that goes? Let's be professional." You side your clenched fists down your sides as Iida removes his fingers and replaces them with his dick.

You wait in anticipation for him to fuck you but he stands completely still, and you then realise that he was waiting for an answer. "You don't think it's a little too late, dinner comes first you know?!"

As much as Iida loved your banter, his dick was so fucking hard that your joke only agitated him.

Leaning over you, he places one hand on the glass table while the other takes hold of your hair, jerking it back. You hiss as your scalp burns for a moment, but that small pain was replaced with a greater one as teeth sank into your shoulder. "If your going to be sidekick material, that attitude is going to have to be worked on now stop testing me before I fuck it out of you."

You roll your eyes and grind down on his dick making him moan, "Fine sergeant dick, I'll be your little trophy wife, in return let me work for once, I didn't go to school for nothing damnit."

Your hair is released so much quicker than you expected that you almost hit your head on the table. Iida chuckles darkly, "Wife? Trophy slut would be a better word for it." Another harsh smack was delivered to your burning bottom, but he was satisfied after long last.

His hips finally press firmly against you as the full length of him is accepted with your pulsating core.You try to talk through the discomfort, "My ring better be huge after this."

Iida laughed sympathetically as he kissed the dark bruise forming from where he bit you. "The biggest money can buy."

The stretch began to feel pleasurable as his thrusts got faster. As a result of course you could feel yourself getting louder as well. "Faster!" Iida grunted as he held your waist to balance himself. Underneath the sound of the wobbling desk, your low groans are heard as the slapping of skin soon becomes more incessant.

"I've been waiting to fuck this lewd bottom for months! Parading around in all them damn form during outfits!"

The feeling of your bosses cock pumping in and out of you was overwhelming as he was ruthless when it came to chasing his own pleasure. Your legs trembled themselves closed, as you received another harsh slap to your ass. By the time this was over, you were sure you were going to be unable to sit.

On the other end, Iida was deeply pleasured by the sight of your ebony skin shaking from the force of each thrust. That's why it was unsurprising when a high pitched moan that most definitely wasn't yours fills the room.

"Ah, yes, I'm going to cum so deep inside of you, I can right? Pretty please!?" The man was practically whimpering as his cock twitched inside of you. If you were honest, you couldn't even answer as you feel his cum fill your insides. Even so, you felt your toes curl as he kept going.

"Come for me Miss L/n!" The shakiness that seeped from his voice as he fucked himself into an overstimulated mess was adorably pathetic. You do your best to reach in between your legs and stimulate your clit.

As you get closer, your cute hole tightens like a vice around Iida's cock and he finds himself coming again in quick spurts just like before. He was unable to take anymore stimulation and weakly pulled out of you before pumping the fingers in your wet heat. "Come on, cum on my fingers Miss. L/n."

You while loudly as you rub your clit faster and like a large wave, an orgasm crashes down on your body making s clear liquid spew from your cunt, wetting the floor.

#black y/n #blackreader #bnha headcanons #mha #bnha x black reader #mha smut #iida x black reader #iida smut #iida imagine #semi public sex #iida x reader

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fics-of-my-mind · 4 years

Text

Trust - Chapter XI.

‘Jeez,’ I grimaced. ‘You’re trying to kill me?’

‘Just want you to have a good time, Hun,’ Erica chuckled. ‘This is your LA club virginity after all.’

We laughed together, then I excused myself to the bathroom. I was getting used to this, living in this city, this country, going to clubs like the locals. I pressed myself through between sweaty bodies with a grin on my face on my way to the toilette.

It only took one second for the moment to freeze. It was just like in movies, when everything stops, when you can’t concentrate on your surroundings, just that one thing you see. Like one of the rom-coms, a scene that I never thought could happen in real life.

The millisecond my gaze wandered to the upstairs VIP area, I was faced with two very familiar dark brown orbs, also staring at me in shock. He was leaning on his elbows on the railing, a drink in his hand. He looked amazing, in a dark blazer, black T-shirt and some jeans. His stubble looked a bit bigger than last time I saw him. His lips were ajar as he tried comprehending my presence in a downtown LA club.

It lasted for an extremely long moment, then as soon as I got my composure back, I turned away, heading towards the restrooms, not looking back.

I wasn’t stupid. When I moved here – hell, when I first heard Sophie say ‘LA opportunity’ – it crossed my mind that one of the barriers between us, the distance would be gone. We’d be living in the same city. It seemed more possible to run into each other than before. Then again, I wasn’t naïve either. As much as I liked to think of the coincidence of getting to know Nick in his natural habitat, I knew that there was a microscopic chance of the same thing happening again.

But it did. Nick was here. We were in the same club.

Warnings: mature content, BDSM content Pairing: Nick Jonas / Other Female Character This fanfiction can also be found on Wattpad by fnntth

I don’t own Nick Jonas or any other recognizable characters. This fanfiction is completely fictional, its only purpose is entertainment.

Chapter XI. - Standing in the dark, although we've turned on the lights

In the beginning of September what I was afraid of for months became reality: I was fired. Not because I made a mistake, not because I wasn’t working hard enough, simply because due to COVID the brand in Hungary wasn’t profitable anymore. At the same time, I was offered an opportunity inside the company. An opportunity that came with a move.

The brand I was working on had its headquarters in Los Angeles. When they started firing people from the company, they kept the ones that ‘could be a real asset in the future’, or at least that’s what they told me. I just had to be ready to move, something that I never thought would be an option for me in my life.

I had everything in Hungary. My friends, my family, my home, my dog. I’ve never been one of those people that were brave and went to unknown places with the plans of making new friends, building a new life. I never even went on Erasmus or Campus Mundi, the international programs my university was offering. I wasn’t that kind of person to just get up and leave it all behind, to move thousands of miles away.

This was a big opportunity. Once in a lifetime, as Sophie, my boss said. She also stated that she was jealous, that she didn’t think this would happen when they asked her to evaluate the team members. But apparently, I fit the brand’s profile as so as they were willing to move me out to the USA.

I had to do this. This was life giving me an out of the current situation, something to help me take my mind off the heartbreak. This was something that I couldn’t say no to.

I spent my last day at the Budapest office crying my eyes out. I couldn’t stop. I loved working here, I loved my coworkers, my bosses, the whole company. In the evening we went for a dinner, just the three of us, the core of the team and toasted to new beginnings and opportunities.

I wasn’t sure I was ready for change, yet a few days later I was on my way to the airport with my life packed into two big suitcases. It hurt to leave; hurt to leave my dog home with my parents, to step out on my apartment’s door, to decide what was worth taking with me and what wasn’t. It was pretty hard, yet I still preferred being sad over this than over Nick.

Moving to a new city, a city more than 6000 miles away from my home was extremely scary. I didn’t know anyone, I wasn’t part of the local culture, I’ve never even been to the US in my life. Always wanted to go, just never had the chance. At least, I’ve watched enough American series to have an idea about how the things were going to go, starting with the huge amount of paperwork I’ve had to fill just to get my work visa.

What does one see when thinking about Los Angeles? Palm trees, beaches, sun, surfers, green juices. No one tells you that it rains a lot, that some neighborhoods are quite dangerous, that it’s perfectly normal to see a police chase on your third day in the city. And the tourists… Now that the virus was gone – or at least in sleep mode – tourists were everywhere. You couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything.

My first impression… wasn’t too great. The minute I set foot in LA, I thought that I was making a huge mistake. I’ve already missed my family, my friends, my dog, everything. I didn’t know a single soul, I’ve had no one to turn to when I wasn’t sure about something. On the first night, I called my (now ex) boss, Sophie in tears, hoping that she’d save me and get me my job back at home back.

‘Suck it up and do what I’ve taught you,’ was all she said, being the confident lady boss I’ve always admired. She was more than just my boss, she was a real role model, someone I wanted to become in ten years. Hearing her say that this was the biggest opportunity in my life did the trick, the next day I started working with my old ‘fake it ‘til you make it’ motto in mind.

Since it was the company moving me out, they agreed to pay my rent for the first six months of living in LA, which was quite generous. I got a condo in Hermosa, not so far from the office. You see, I understood why in movies they always have cars in LA. ‘Not so far’ meant 35 minutes by public transportation, one and a half hour on foot, yet only fifteen minutes by car.

Problem is, I hated driving. I had my license since I was 17, yet never liked driving. I loved it much more, when someone would take me somewhere, and I always choose public transportation in Budapest. Here, I had no choice, on the second week of living in LA, I spent all my savings on a car.

The apartment building was near the beach, like only a few streets down. This was an aspect I loved in the first minute. I’ve never lived in a city or country where there was an actual beach, and I could already see myself taking long walks in the evenings, since I’ve had nothing better to do anyway. The property also had a pool and a gym – both luxuries that wasn’t usual in my country.

The apartment itself was fully furnished in a minimalistic style, which I would’ve loved, but the close to zero decoration made it feel empty. My two suitcases of clothes and stuff were lost in the two bedroom apartment, and it was just so lonely. I felt even more alone than before, still debating if this was the right decision.

Then, on my first day of work I fell in love with the edgy office building, the cool people around me and basically with just the atmosphere. I loved being at work, it took my mind off everything else, and really, I was doing surprisingly good. Even though I was pretty good in English, I’ve had this fear that I’d get misunderstood, or couldn’t pick up the pace, but all went well. When I left the office on my first day, I walked out with a smile on my face, knowing that yes, I needed to do this.

Some of my colleagues took it upon themselves to make me feel less alone. It didn’t take them long, by October I was part of their little group. I’ve gotten especially close with a girl, Erica, one of the coolest people I’ve ever met. She was my new self-claimed best friend.

After a month of living in the US, I was definitely happy. Still lonely, but much happier than during the whole summer, or before that. I was thriving, doing something I loved, being good at it, being surrounded by amazing people in a place of which I’ve just dreamed of before. I wasn’t perfectly happy with LA yet, but I was getting used to it.

Sure, it was still quite lonely. Going home to the empty apartment, realizing that I can only call my parents or friends if I’m sure they are already awake… It was a process. The whole move and change was a process that was still happening. And to my biggest surprise, the process made me happier after all.

I’ve never imagined living in LA. When I daydreamed about coming to the US, it was always New York, city of my dreams. But here I was… And I decided that I wasn’t going to hold myself back from experiencing something great. Los Angeles was the city of dreams after all, wasn’t it?

When Erica suggested that we go to a nightclub I even forgot to oppose to the idea. It’s been so long since I went out, probably months ago, when Vanda and Amalia dragged me somewhere. Not that I didn’t like going out, I just haven’t been in the mood lately.

But when my newfound bestie showed up at my apartment with her makeup bag and some slutty choices of outfit, I couldn’t resist. It felt so good to dress up, do my hair and feel fabulous again, and I was also a little curious about the LA night life. I’ve lived here for a month now, and I’ve only been to a couple of bars and restaurants with my colleagues, so it was time to go exploring.

I choose a black satin cocktail dress, not too short, yet barely reaching my knees with an open back. Honestly, I think the past months of agony did good to my body, I definitely liked more what I saw in the mirror. My waist was slender, my figure was just curvy enough and I didn’t even mind that I haven’t lost any fat from my ass, since the pencil form of the dress made it look amazing.

I wanted to wear flats, but Erica reminded me that this was LA. It wasn’t allowed for me to wear anything but high heels, even if I took them off during the night. So I choose my black, way too high for my liking sandals and my also black Furla purse – one of the more expensive pieces of accessories I owned.

We did our makeups – yay to working at a beauty company and having endless amounts of free products – and Erica curled my hair slightly, something that I was never able to do for myself.

I looked surprisingly amazing. Erica too, in her own red bodycon dress. We were hot. Probably this is why we got in to the newest club in town – after some pre-gaming at home – in only ten minutes of time. It also helped that Erica knew one of the bartenders.

‘Okay, I’ve got to admit that this is fun,’ I laughed two hours later, when we made our way to the crowded bar. I felt alive. This nightlife scene was much bigger than the one at home, much more exciting and I was having an amazing time. We spent the past hours dancing around, then drinking, then dancing some more. I was buzzed enough, so my feet weren’t killing me in the heels.

‘Told ya’ she smiled, asking her bartender friend for another round of gin tonics, and also some tequila shots. ‘C’mon girl, we gotta’ keep up the level,’ she chuckled, raising her tequila glass at me.

I normally hated shots, but my slightly drunk self couldn’t resist. I grinned at her, clicking our glasses, then threw back the drink. Tequila burned through my esophagus, down to my stomach, making me warm.

‘Jeez,’ I grimaced. ‘You’re trying to kill me?’

‘Just want you to have a good time, Hun,’ Erica chuckled. ‘This is your LA club virginity after all.’

It lasted for an extremely long moment, then as soon as I got my composure back, I turned away, heading towards the restrooms, not looking back.

But it did. Nick was here. We were in the same club.

I closed the door of the ladies’ room behind me and leaned on the sink for support, trying to calm my rapid breathing down. I did not expect this, not really. I wasn’t prepared to see him, even if just from a distance. All the feelings, all the hurt I tried letting go of were back in the second our gazes found each other.

Up until that moment I was doing fine. Moving on with my life, concentrating on other things, not letting myself sink into depression because of Nick. I thought I had it under control with the move, the new environment, the new people. Turns out, I didn’t. It was just an act, pretending that everything was okay, that I was over him.

Well, clearly I wasn’t. At least that’s what the twenty minutes I’ve spent collecting myself said.

When I finally left the restroom, I was a little bit worried that Nick was going to be waiting outside for me. When he wasn’t, I felt both relieved and a little bit disappointed. Maybe he didn’t want to see me. Maybe he successfully forgot me.

I shook my head, trying to remind myself that my goal was to leave without having one of those awkward moments with him. I wasn’t ready to face him. He was still married. I wasn’t as over him as much as I would’ve liked. It’s been long months since I’ve heard from him.

Not being the kind of person to just leave Erica behind without a world, my way lead back to the bar. I’ve successfully made it through the sea of people, suddenly not enjoying the throbbing nightlife of LA anymore. My feet started hurting, so I’ve kept my gaze on the ground, trying not to fall.

This is how I ended up bumping into someone’s chest. I mean, it wasn’t really a surprise, there were a lot of people in the club and I wasn’t looking in front of me.

I could feel my ankle twist in the high heels, which made me wince. I was expecting the fall to the floor, I was ready to have everyone looking at me. Instead I could feel strong hands on my upper arms, keeping me from falling.

I didn’t need to look up to know who it was. His intense, unique scent of sandalwood, pink pepper, mint and lavender instantly filled my lungs. I froze in the moment. My eyes were fixated on his black T-shirt, as I tried regaining my balance.

‘Milla,’ Nick said, his voice almost like a whisper. This made me immediately raise my glance and look into his dark brown eyes. It was like a cheesy movie, the moment our gazes collided, the outside world stopped existing. I didn’t hear the music, didn’t feel the people, didn’t feel my feet hurt.

I wanted to jump into his arms (even more), I wanted to kiss him, hug him, never let him go. At the same time, there was this urge in me to run away instantly, to avoid him for the rest of my life. Maybe it was the fresh heartbreak, maybe it was the fact that things between us still weren’t right, they weren’t possible.

I felt like a deer caught in headlights, looking up at him with my lips parted. I was shocked to be this close to him again, to bump into him in this sweaty club. His hands still on my arms didn’t exactly help either.

He looked amazing, even more up close than before. He was extremely hot, perfectly fitting into the LA nightlife scene. Being close to him made me want to do things, things I’ve wanted before, yet the feeling was even more intensive now, after long months of being away.

‘How–‘ he started, his handsome features in confusion, but as sook as I heard his voice, I shook my head, stepping back. This wasn’t the time or the place to talk. We were already too close. He was too close.

‘Don’t.’

It was all I said before walking past him, not caring about my hurt ankles. I just knew that I had to get out of here. By the time I reached the bar and Erica, I couldn’t resist turning back.

Nick was gone.

A/N: Thank you so much for all your wonderful feedbacks! It feel so good to read that you love the story as much as I do!

Take care,

#nick jonas #nick jonas fanfiction #nick jonas fic #nick jonas imagine #nick x reader #jonas brothers fanfiction #fanfiction #jonas brothers imagine

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pietrotheavenger · 5 years

Text

voices

summary: when your soulmate sings, you can hear it.

pairings: au!bucky barnes x fem!reader, thor x steve

warnings: swearing, alcohol

a/n: it’s currently midnight and if you know me then you know i HATE revising my work. i wrote this in one sitting and i cannot be bothered to revise this. don’t be mean pls

bucky’s soulmate was always singing. always. he liked to think that she did it on purpose, to entertain him. he absolutely loved listening to her singing. he never listened to music because of her. he didn’t want to listen to something that wasn’t her. she made music into something special to him. he wanted to keep the songs that she sang to him a secret. he didn’t want to hear them on the radio. he learned new songs from her, all the time. but, sometimes her constant singing was inconvenient.

he was out getting coffee with one of his friends, sam. they were chatting when she started singing. bucky held up a finger and pointed to his ear. “she’s singing,” he whispered.

“it’s been too much, i’ve been on the side, and i’m waiting.”

“man, she’s always singing,” sam rolled his eyes.

“i swear she has the most beautiful voice i’ve ever heard. plus, i love this song,” the brunette responded, twirling his hair around his finger as he softly sang along.

“i’ve got a little time, maybe all night, if i’m patient.”

“you know what? maybe i’ll sing to my soulmate,” sam scoffed, and began singing. he crossed his arms over his chest as he sang some random pop song.

“what’s on your mind? i can never read you.”

the distant smile didn’t leave bucky’s face as he closed his eyes. he savored her voice. she faltered slightly when he began singing back to her, but continued on. he had his moments of singing, but they had never sung together before. it was a common thing between soulmates to do duets.

“i always leave you crying when we fight, but i don’t mean to.”

sometimes, soulmates dreamt of each other. he yearned to see her in his dreams. he knew that they didn’t have the connection that others had. one of his friends, natasha and her soulmate were always singing to each other. they developed their soulmate bond and she dreamt of her soulmate.

“no, love don’t come easy. especially when you’re loving me.”

bucky was itching to meet her. he had been waiting his whole life. he was ready. he already felt such immense love towards her just by hearing her singing. he melted on the inside every time she started up.

“it’s never enough for the both of us, so sorry. couldn’t have known it would ever be this hard.”

if he didn’t hear her sing at least once a day, he would panic. it was quite unusual, but he understood that sometimes she would get busy, or maybe she was feeling sick, or maybe sad. none of those thoughts were able to reassure him. in those rare cases, he would sing to her.

“we had it all but we lost and that’s our fault.”

he hoped that she liked his singing, and that it comforted her. throughout his childhood, his parents would always listen to frank sinatra, so that’s what he would sing to her. when he was done, she would sing back a few lines of the chorus to let him know she was there but not wanting to sing, or a whole song.

“i should be here waiting for you to answer my call. but i’m never giving up on what, i’ve been focusing on putting me first.”

his parents were soulmates and they would always sing frank sinatra to each other. he liked that he shared something so special to his parents, with his own soulmate. she didn’t know it, of course, but he still found it heartwarming.

“still could never see you with somebody else. i can’t even live with being by myself. that’s the part of me that really needs your help.”

“is she done yet?” sam questioned.

“no, hush,” bucky replied.

“lately, i haven’t been doing very well. that’s the difference between heaven and hell.”

“aren’t you singing to your girl?” bucky stopped his quiet singing to quickly ask his friend.

“i feel heaven when you’re here with me. i feel hell every time you leave.”

“she started singing, ‘shut up,’ to me,” sam grumbled. bucky let out a deep belly laugh.

“but i need to get you off of my back. i gotta get you off of my back.”

he had heard her giggle once. he believed it to be a mistake of the soulmate bond. he had also heard stories where the bond mistook laughter for music. her laugh sounded like little bells ringing. he knew that he shouldn’t love someone that he didn’t know, but he couldn’t help it. she was already so perfect.

“wished that we would never take it this far. here we are, going back and forth.”

some people had romantic relationships before they met their soulmate. bucky didn’t understand this. there’s one person specifically made for every person on the planet, why can’t they just wait to meet them? those flimsy relationships will be worth nothing to how someone feels when they’re with their soulmate.

“i hoped we would never make it this far. but now, i gotta find my worth.”

he truly wanted nothing more than to meet her. he wanted to feel complete. like a whole person. his parents had both said that when they were with each other, they felt at peace with themselves. he desired that with all of his being.

“she’s done,” bucky smiled. “i can’t wait to meet her. and i can’t wait for you to hear her singing.”

“don’t get ahead of yourself, barnes.”

if he didn’t know that the voice in his head was his soulmate, bucky would’ve wholeheartedly believed that his childhood best friend, steve, was his soulmate. there was no one who understood him quite like steve. they had been through everything together. but, alas, the voice in bucky’s head was feminine, and steve had met his soulmate, thor, in high school. it was steve and thor who dragged him out of the house on a friday night that was just like all the others. lately, all of his days seemed to bleed into one. he could feel himself edging towards a downward spiral. his friends could feel it, too.

“the only problem is i see you in colors that don’t exist,” she began singing while thor was speaking to bucky. he zoned out for a moment as she continued.

“in colors that don’t even exist, girl. i see the future in your eyes. i see my past and all my sins. i swear to god, i see god when you’re touching on my skin.”

“bucky? you there?” thor raised an eyebrow. he lifted his beer up to his mouth.

“sorry, she was singing to me,” he sheepishly apologized.

“it’s okay. i used to have to lay down every time steve sang to me,” thor gazed lovingly at his soulmate who was making conversation with the bartender.

“that bad, huh?” bucky joked. “where are we, anyway?” he asked, looking around. she began humming in his ear, and he tried his hardest to pay attention to the blond man in front of him.

“it’s a new karaoke bar! steve heard about it from his coworkers, i believe,” he replied. he stroked his beard before asking, “have you been to one before?”

bucky innocently shook his head, brown locks swaying back and forth. “i’ve seen them in movies, though.”

“you’ll have so much fun! we should do a duet,” thor insisted. “no, a trio.”

“i don’t know about that,” bucky laughed nervously.

just then, steve came over, handing bucky a beer. he gave thor a kiss and said, “what’re you lot talking about?”

“bucky agreed to doing a group performance!” thor exclaimed.

“actually-” the man in question began, but was cut off by his best friend.

“fuck yeah! what’s the game plan?” steve’s childish smile reminded bucky so much of their upbringing together, that he let himself get roped into the singing triad. he nursed his beer as his friends argued over a song. he ended up ordering two shoes of vodka and threw them back to accelerate his getting drunk process.

“thanks for joining us today, buck,” steve beamed. “i know that sometimes it’s hard for you to reach out when you need us, but we’re always here for you. i’m with you ‘til the end of the line, pal,” he put his hand on his shoulder.

bucky opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a shout from the stage. “hello new york!” a small brunette lady was the owner of the voice. she was clearly intoxicated as was her giggling friend, standing next to her. he was immediately transfixed by her friend. her lips were painted red and curved into the prettiest smile he’d ever seen. she wore a silk powder blue top which she tied in a knot at the top of her flattering black jeans. the top buttons of her blouse were undone, revealing her collarbones and allowing her to show off some layered necklaces. she teetered in a pair of forest green heeled boots, excitedly bouncing from one foot to another. “i am jane foster, and this is y/n y/l/n!” the original lady yelled into her microphone.

“hi, i’m y/n,” she smiled and waved, laughing. her word were slightly slurring together. bucky repeated her name to himself, under his breath.

“and we are,” jane began by herself but was joined by y/n for the last word, “*NSYNC!” the beginning chords of it’s gonna be me were being played.

“you might have been hurt, babe. that ain’t no lie!” jane sang very loudly. their group of friends near the stage cheered. y/n blew them a kiss before stumbling and regaining her balance and collapsing into giggles as jane continued through the song. “you’ve seen them all come and go, oh. i remember you told me that it made you believe in no man, no cry. maybe that’s why…”

y/n began singing with jane for the chorus and the minute he heard her voice, he got goosebumps. his soulmate sang right along in his head. “every little thing i do never seems enough for you. you don’t want to lose it again. but i’m not like them. baby, when you finally get to love somebody. guess what? it’s gonna be me.”

“wait a fucking minute,” he said to himself, his eyebrows drawing together.

she began her solo, “you’ve got no choice, babe. but to move on, and you know, there ain’t no time to waste. you’re just too blind to see but in the end, you know it’s gonna be me. you can’t deny so just tell me why.”

they went into the chorus for the second time and bucky jumped out of his seat and screamed into steve’s face. “that’s my fucking soulmate!” and pointed at the stage.

“are you serious?” steve gaped.

“yes!”

“justin or jc?”

“jc!”

“it’s our turn next!” thor yelled, grabbing both of their hands and pulling them through the bar to the side of the stage.

“that’s my soulmate,” bucky whispered as she took her bows and staggered off the other side of the stage before he was pushed onto it and handed a microphone. he held onto the microphone like he would die if he let go.

“how are we feeling!” steve howled. thor talked to whoever was in charge of the music on the side before jumping up. “we are steve,” the said man placed his hand on his chest before pointing to his best friend, who was looking quite like a deer in the headlights, “bucky!” he finally gestured to his soulmate, “and thor!” the music started up and the crowd screamed in recognition.

“i can’t stop this feeling deep inside of me. girl, you just don’t realize what you do to me,” steve and thor sang together. steve looked at bucky encouragingly, wrapping his arms around his shoulder as he shakily began singing, looking straight into the crowd and at her. “when you hold me, in your arms so tight. you let me know everything’s alright. i’m hooked on a feeling.”

she was chatting to one of her friends but when he started singing, she whipped her head to the stage, her eyes wide and her lips parted. they made eye contact for the first time and electricity passed between them. he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. he kept singing, just letting his mouth move. he didn’t know if he was singing the right thing, but by the look of joy on steve’s face, he knew he was doing something right. he let his gaze fall away from her before it flickered back. he drank her right up.

when their song was completed, they linked hands and bowed in front of the crowd. bucky practically jumped off of the stage at the first opportunity he got. she had rushed up him, grasping his arm. “did you hear me?” she asked.

“i can’t hear you, it’s too loud!” he yelled back.

she pulled him away from the stage, to the bar, before repeating her question. “did you hear me?” he nodded his head. he returned the question and she nodded back. “are you my soulmate?” her voice was so quiet that he wasn’t entirely sure if he heard her.

“only if you don’t mind me singing frank sinatra all the time,” bucky responded.

her face broke into a smile and she threw her arms around his neck. he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tight. he deeply inhaled, savoring every moment. when she pulled away, he gingerly placed his hand on her cheek, slowly moving it to thread his fingers through her hair. he dipped his head down and whispered, “is this okay?” his breath was hot on her lips. she nodded. his lips met hers and for a moment, the universe burned white-hot.

infinity tags:

@ssweet-empowerment ; @stardustandbucky ; @abuckyrogersworld ; @freightcarcap ; @c-a-v-a-l-r-y ; @coffeebooksandfandom ; @somethingmoreclever ; @2dreamcatcher8 ; @illegalportkey ; @fuckthatfeeling ; @xxashy999xx ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @tuliptx ; @wwhitewwolff ; @thisismysecrethappyplace ; @appreciating-chase-brody ; @renanyx ; @maladaptive-ninja-returns ; @marvelrose ; @sophiealiice ; @dreamsfollowed99 ; @galacticstxrdust ; @fitzsimmons-is-forever ; @dumblani ; @i-padfootblack-things ;

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #the winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan x reader #the winter soldier x reader #thor x steve #thorsteve #thundershield #marvel #fanfiction #soulmate

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prettytoxicrevolver · 5 years

Text

Anniversary | Eben Franckewitz

Warnings? Nah just fluffy Eben

Requested? Nah I just miss him

Summary: It’s yours and Ebens four year anniversary and you've decided to take it easy. Turns out this anniversary spent relaxing would be your favorite one of all.

Word Count: 1,840

“Hi baby,” Eben greets and your smile widens. Even if it was only for 15 minutes on your break, Eben still managed to lift your mood for the entire day. He always had that effect on you. Especially four years later.

“Hi love,” You respond. You’re headed to your car to sit and take a break before having to head back to work. No matter what, you and Eben had created the habit of whenever you were on your break you’d call him.

On tour you accidentally called him during his set and he answered and let you talk to the crowd for a second. It was super embarrassing but also hilarious and you and Eben still talk about it till this day.

“How’s work going?”

“The usual,” You tell him who’s working, the new tea about who’s dating who, any rude customers and so on.

“Oh and I know I said it earlier this morning but happy anniversary,” He repeats when you only have about two minutes before your break ends.

“Happy anniversary e. I wish I wasn’t working.”

For the past four years, you and Eben have spent every anniversary together. While you would still see him today when you get home, you wished it was like past years. But work was crazy recently and you knew you couldn’t call out. Regardless you still saw him for a bit and that’s all that mattered to you.

“Well we still have tonight,” He responds and you smile.

“Eben I love you but nothing extravagant okay? I’m gonna be exhausted after work and I really don’t want to go out tonight, okay?”

“Hey, it’s gonna be perfect don’t worry about tonight.”

By now you’re clocking back in and offer a quick ‘I love you’ to your boyfriend before getting back to work. Thankfully the rest of your shift seemed to go by quickly after your break and you were thankful.

“What are you up to tonight?” Your older coworker Mary asks as you come to bother her by self checkout.

“It’s my boyfriend and I’s four year anniversary,” You respond and she smiles fondly.

“That’s sweet. Any big plans?”

“Nah. I’m hoping for a chill night but he’s always surprising me,” You don’t quite realize how big your smile is until Mary is reflecting it.

“I bet it’ll be a great night.”

As you continue to talk, you can’t help but think back to your first anniversary with Eben. Even though the relationship was a year old, it still felt like every second was brand new. So for your one year, you and Eben went out to the fanciest restaurant in your area.

The two of you were dressed to the nines and rolled up in his beat up sudan to the place. When you got there, the restaurant was filled with older couples who looked down at the two millennials walking in. You both ignored their stares, hands intertwined as you were lead to a booth near the back.

In short, the whole evening was okay but would have been much better if you and Eben had stayed at home. The food portions were tiny but expensive, couples around you wouldn’t stop judging, and honestly you were both out of your element.

By the end of the night, you two decided to not do that again until your next anniversary where maybe it’d be a bit better.

It wasn’t.

But even so, no matter what you did as long as you were with Eben everything was fine. You were just happy to be able to spend time with the love of your life and celebrate your relationship.

You’re quickly pulled out of your trance by your manager telling you to cover your coworkers break. For the rest of your shift, you dream about Eben until it finally hits four o’clock and your manager sets you free.

You race home to yours and Ebens shared apartment and when you step inside you immediately let out a sigh. About thirty seconds later, Eben is by your side and placing a quick kiss on your lips.

“I missed you,” He says stepping back and taking your keys and phone and placing them down for you. He pulls you into his arms and you rest your head on his chest with a smile on your face.

“I missed you more,” You say lifting your head and resting your chin on his chest. He smiles and leans down to leave a kiss on your nose and your heart flutters.

“I laid out an outfit for you.”

“Mhm?” You ask still not moving from his arms.

“Mmm,” He hums back before tossing his head to the side. “Go get changed.”

You stand on your tip toes and peck his lips before finally moving from his embrace. You head to your shared bedroom and upon walking in, you sigh in content.

On your bed, is an outfit Eben laid out for you. It’s simple, an oversized t-shirt and cotton shorts but your favorite sweatshirt of Ebens is laid next to it. You loved nothing more than to curl up into his clothing and relax after work. Especially when Eben was on tour and you couldn’t see him.

After changing you take your hair out of its bun and begin brushing it out. As you do this, you feel two arms wrap around your waist and you look in the mirror to see the love of your life behind you.

“Hungry?” He asks while laying his head on your shoulder.

“Mm starving. What did you have in mind?”

He doesn’t say anything, just takes your hand and leads you out of the room and out of your apartment. You make your way downstairs to his car and the two of you head out to the unknown location.

The entire time, Eben has one hand on the steering wheel and another rested on your inner thigh. He sings along to the playlist he made you for your anniversary and you can’t help but just sit and stare at him.

He was truly the best thing that has ever happened to you. You didn’t even know where to begin when it came to talking about what this man did for you. He was so sweet and kind and caring no matter what and he loved you so much it was unbelievable.

And you loved him just as much. You made sure he knew that every little smile every little compliment and every little look didn’t go unnoticed. You loved him with every little bit of your heart and soul and you hoped he knew that. You hoped he knew that you would never ever stop loving him.

Finally we pull up to the location and you see it’s your favorite fast food restaurant, way back burger. You look over at Eben and he offers you a wide smile. You peck his cheek before getting out of the car and meeting Eben on his side. He takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together before heading into the restaurant.

As you wait in line, you wrap your free hand around his arm and lean your head on his shoulder. You feel him place a light kiss on the top of you head and as he orders you stay in that position.

After grabbing all of the food, you head home to eat and watch a movie. When you step through the front door, Eben heads to the kitchen to sort out dinner and you pull up Netflix. You immediately scroll through your list and click on your favorite romantic comedy, Mamma Mia.

Just as you settle on the couch, Eben brings over your food and sits down next to you. The two of you dig in as you hit play on the remote. It takes you roughly a half an hour to eat before you’re up singing and dancing along to your favorite 80s songs.

Nothing put you in a better mood than watching Mamma Mia and singing all the songs with your boyfriend. Over the years, Eben had grown to love the movie considering you watched it 24/7. Whether you were sad, happy, sick, stressed, you always ended up watching Mamma Mia and Eben had grown to love this little quirk of yours.

Just as Our Last Summer starts to play, Eben stands and pulls you close to him. The two of you sway around, you quietly singing the lyrics as Eben hums along and stares at you lovingly. He loved whenever you sang around him. It wasn’t something you did often and especially not around others but he loved that you felt comfortable enough around him to sing.

When the song ends, the two of you curl back up into the couch to watch the rest of the movie. Eben keeps one arm wrap around your waist and his face snuggled into your neck. You lean into his tight embrace and your heart settles to a nice pace. You loved this boy so much.

“Oh I got you something else,” Eben says once the movie ends.

“Baby,” You whine and Eben quiets you by placing a kiss on your lips.

“I'll be right back.”

He stands from his position on the couch and heads towards the kitchen. You wait a few minutes before he comes back into the room. In one hand are two pints of your favorite ben and jerry’s ice cream and the other hand is a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“Eben,” You sigh out with a smile and his beams back at you. “You didn’t have to.”

“Well I just wanted my baby to have the best anniversary.”

He sets the flowers on the coffee table before sitting back down and handing you your ice cream. You place both hands on his cheeks and lean forward to place a sweet kiss on his lips. He smiles into it and the two of you break apart.

Eben starts up the next watch, a comedy special from John Mulaney and the two of you settle back to eat your ice cream. As you watch, your mind wanders over to the love of your life sitting next to you. Eben pretty much always invaded your thoughts but tonight was different.

You couldn’t believe that you were blessed enough to have such an amazing man show you what true love was. No one has ever treated you as well as E did and you couldn’t fathom that he chose you. And for four straight years it has been nothing but bliss since.

“Whatcha thinking about?” He asks nudging you slightly so you look up at him.

Your eyes trail over the features on his face and a half smile forms on your face. “Nothing. I just love you a lot that’s all.”

“I love you too,” He responds before pecking your lips. When he sits back up you snuggle further into his side.

“Happy anniversary baby,” He continues and leans his head on yours.

“Happy anniversary.”

#eben #eben franckewitz #eben imagine #eben franckewitz imagine #daniel seavey #corbyn besson #jonah marais #zach herron #jack avery #imagine #bravebesson

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czeriahshiptank · 5 years

Text

Missed connection

Ok, so I started writing this during the Zelink month last August, but we lost my aunt and life in general caught up with me. I've been stranded home with the chicken pox for the last week and a half, so I finally had time so stop and finish this.

Needless to say that it wasn't how I had imagined writing this particular piece, but it kinda got away from me, and I now think that it's probably my best one so far. I really like it...

It take place in a Hyrule after BOTW, with some weird spirits tracks elements, imagine just a BOTW Hyrule but where the technology had evolved again after the game, kinda modern time Hyrule. I might have a few headcanon going on in there, I hope I doesn't bother anybody.

I listened to this Youtube channel during the writing (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hHW1oY26kxQ) and I think it grasp a lots of the general atmosphere I tried to convey, so don't hesitate to give it an ear during your reading.

As always, English is not my first language, so I apologize for any awful mistake I might have left, I've reread that a hundred time already and I can't see anything anymore...xD

Happy new year to everybody, and have a good read ! I hope to read in the comments your thoughts about this ^^

Note : cross posted on my own account on AO3.

That year, as it happen sometime, autumn arrived on a crisp summer night. One hour the air was heavy with warmth and sweetness and the next was ice cold and filled with the bittersweet taste of the end of something.

Weather in Hyrule was often like that, mostly on the far sides of the kingdom. The plain around the castle always seemed to have her own micro climate of soft breeze, shy sun and eventual rain, meanwhile the outskirt could go from year long frigid air of the Snowpeak, to the desertic warmth of the Gerudo valley.

But nothing ever felt like home to Link like the crisp and cold air of the Akkalan plains, so close in shape as the rest of the grand plateau but as if engulfed in a perpetual autumn late afternoon.

As much as he loved his job as Hyrule Train Track employee, he enjoyed it most when he was assigned here, in the Akkalan station. Most of his coworker were assigned to a certain place in particular and stayed there, or enjoyed running the trains all over the country while always going back home at the end of the day. Link wasn’t like that. He was a floater. They were only a handful of employee like him, never assigned to a task in particular, always changing affectation.

He hated staying in one place for too long, but he had to admit that this station near the University was his favorite one.

If you asked him, he would tell you it was because of the bright colors the tree leaves seemed to have all year long, from bright greens to dark reds. the low light of the sun on the long meadow, never high enough to make you feel like it was summer, but giving this eerie feeling of late autumn to the area all year long. He would tell you about the crisp air of the wind, sometime hot when it came down from the Eldin volcano, sometime full of salt when the sea would bring rain.

However, he would probably never tell you about his main reason to like the place.

In the very north-east of the province, you could find an old scientific facility. It was said that this place had been crucial in the defeat of the calamity, but that was hundreds of years ago and mostly history lovers would talk to you about that. It was only an hour away from Tarrey town, the capital of the region.

The place had probably changed a lot since that time. It was said that the only remaining piece was the giant telescope on top of it. The building was now surrounded by houses and smaller labs as well as the biggest university of the land.

The school was well loved by his students, as much for the history surrounding it that for the serenity that came with the area. It has a couple of coffee shop, the biggest library outside of Castle town and the kind of atmosphere you only see in movies, where everybody likes to study and all is good in the world. Like a Yuletide tale where the heroine find love at the end of the story.

Zelda kinda felt like she was the heroine of a bad movie like that, and if you asked her, she would tell you that she might have preferred not missing her last train home. But of course she had. Her last class of the semester had run late, the professor had gone on and on about the schism between the Sheikah and the Yiga, from all those centuries ago, and how it was believed that the royal family of that time hadn’t really made a good decision in making the Sheikah destroy all their technology. Zelda actually agreed with him, who knows how would be the scientific global knowledge if her ancestors hasn’t been so stupid. But as interesting that lecture had been, it had extended the lesson by a good thirty minutes and as a result made her missed the connection to the central tower which was the only way for her to go back home on time. She would have to wait for the 6.45 train on the next day and of course, had no way to go back to her small appartement in the campus since everything was closed for the Yule season.

She took in a long, meant to be calming, breath.

Part of her had always loved train station. Particularly this one. It wasn’t the huge ones you could find in big cities, engulfed in a shell of metal and glass. As claustrophobic in their metallic skull and ambient madness than liberating as the new travel prospect they announced. They always smelled like the end of something and the beginning of everything. The crowd and the noise, so overwhelming you just wanted to fall into the first train possible without knowing where it could take you, just hoping it would be an adventure..

The Akkala Faculty station was not like that. The station was situated just before Tarrey Town, which was the last of this line. It was composed of four docks, next to each other, and a small building to buy tickets and be safe from the weather.

It wasn’t in the middle of the city but slightly on the outskirt, just at the verge of the forest. If you squint along the east of the tracks, you could even see the ocean not so far away. It was always breezy, mostly in the evening, and most often misty in the morning. It has the kind of atmosphere you imagine when someone tells you a fairy tale filled with magic and weird places, the kind that gives you the chills and make you dream of sorceress and mighty heroes. The kind you see in these movies, where the two lost lovers meet and fall in love right next to the tracks before each leaving in a different trains.

Train station always made her think of sad love stories. Like the ones of the heroes of old, and the princesses also named Zelda. The ones where the princess send back her hero back in time to let him live his life, the one where he decide to leave all by himself, the ones where he died in her arms, and all she could do was to hope than in her next life they would finally be happy.

They're haven't been a hero for so many years, and even if the Royal Family kept the habit of calling their first born daughters Zelda, most of the links she met were the ones made on the Sheikahnet. Ganon, or the calamity, was just a memory, kept alive by Historian and old fear that it could always come back, but never really sure if it was a legend or reality.

She breathed out.

The sun was slowly going down, and there was no use staying outside now. No magic train would come and pick her up. She could only wait for the morrow. At least she had taken a couple of books with her.

Link loved reading strange stories on the Sheikahnet. Tales of liminal space, moments and places in time that did not really exist, but were there anyway. Feeling that anything could happen if you were attentive enough of your surrounding.

Like sometime in the morning, when from the corner of your eyes you could glimpse a fairy. Nobody ever believed him when he mentioned it as a kid, so he stop speaking about it, but it happened. A small light that would float on the verge of his consciousness when the light were low and the mist so thick you could cut it with a knife. He sometime dreamt about a moon about to fall, about great battles that happened here and somewhere else. Of big birds, one as red as the fire of Eldin, and another bluer than the sky above. He dreamt about fairies and princesses, sometime brunet, sometime as blond as the wheat he could see from the train windows. Sometime he dreamt he was dying, other time he dreamt that she was.

Most time he just dreamt of her. She was always the same even if she never bore the same face, and he was always himself even when he wasn’t.

He never talk to anyone about these dreams.

He loved the Akkala Faculty station most of all the places he knew. The weird feeling like he could meet anything, anybody from anywhere. Although at night, like right now, most of the time it was empty.

He hadn’t expected to see someone, let alone a girl, sitting on the bench inside the station, but here she was anyway. Long blond hair, falling on her laps, even as she put them back behind her long and fine hylian ears. She was reading a book and in the silence of the place he could hear a slow music being hummed. A lullaby of sort, one he had never heard before but was strangely familiar anyway.

She was familiar in that way strangers sometimes were, as if he had met her in another life, and maybe he had. He dreamt of strange life so often that he wouldn’t be surprised, and after all, he might have seen her on another day, in a train. She was familiar because somehow, he knew who she was, he had seen her, who hadn't? She was the crown princess after all, he recognized her. Everybody knew she was studying here. But he knew her, not in a gossipy way, just a true as saying he knew the grass was green or the sky was blue. He just knew….

“Excuse me miss, are you waiting on a train ? There isn’t another one before tomorrow…”

She hadn’t expected anyone to be there. The place was so small and quiet, she had never realized how much she had needed the calm before staying there for the last hour, alone with her book and the slow sound of the light rain falling on the glass ceiling of the station. His voice made her jump slightly, all taken as she had been by the story within the page of her novel, she hadn’t heard him coming closer. He was wearing the uniform of the Train Tracks, a green tunic, with golden boutons. A nice green cap over dirty blond hair and big blue eyes who were looking at her with a bit of worry.

“Yes, I know, I missed my last one and can’t go home because of the holiday. I was hoping of staying here for the night, is that a problem ? I can leave…” Now that he was closer, she could read his name embroidered in gold lettering.“...Link?”

The name was strangely familiar on her lips. And after all, it was. She study history after all, and if one name came back as often as her own, it was this one. It was quite a strange name to wear nowadays, less and less people named their sons after the heroes of old. Too much to bear, too dangerous, if the calamity was to come back, and their son was the one to go ? She could understand the predicament. After all, she herself was the most likely Zelda to be called upon if anything like that were to happen.

“Oh, no, don’t worry miss, you can stay.”

His voice was soft, almost inaudible. She had read that a lot of the heroes had been shy, silent, some says that a few were completely mute. She wondered if all the Link in the country were like the first one, if the name was implicitly making them take certain character. A name is a heavy burden to carry, one that most parent didn't really realize.

She looked at him and everything inside her was yelling that she knew him, but no word would come out of her mouth, his eyes were full of recognition and the fear was restraining her heart. The silence stretched for what seemed like years, when finally her throat allowed for the sound of her hope and fear to come out.

“Do I know you ?”

Could she know him? Yes she could, as true as he knew her without having a clue on how he did. He wanted to touch her, to feel the soft skin of her hand like all the other time he had met her. Sometime with a glove, sometime with fur. He knew her in a way he couldn’t understand.

His voice was silent in the back of his throat, memories of dreams too real, and realities that couldn't have been anything else but dreams. In this place where everything could happen, he had met her, and somehow, something in him told him it was impossible.

But here she was, Zelda, his princess, his everything in so many lives. It was unlikely, said the voice inside his head, that they somehow manage to meet for once without the hovering of an horrible future. But maybe it had happen, maybe this time they could just be themselves without the fear of imminent death and unshakable duty…

Maybe it was just a flicker of his imagination, maybe it was just him who felt the overwhelming need to wrap her in an embrace and never let her go. He wanted to say something, anything, try to make her feel what he felt…

“I think you do.”

They looked at each other for what felt entire lifetimes. All the one they could never be together, and some of the one where they were. They say that some kind of love transcend life time and maybe theirs is one of them.

One of Zelda favorite story was the one of the creation of this land. Strangely enough, it arrived almost unscathed to them when so many others were just like tree leaves, scattered to the wind, never to be heard again. It was said that it was the will of the goddess that her soul be reborn in a human girl, and her hero soul to follow hers until the end of time. And maybe it was what that was. She for sure wasn't feeling really goddess like right now, but the rythme of her heart was telling her that it was him.

Some things are just too hard to ignore, and the attraction she felt for this boy, no older than her, was unprecedented. Before that, she realized, she had been mostly going through her life like a lifeless puppet. Or maybe the goddess had just made everything happening to make their encounter possible.

Her mind was filled with so many memories that weren’t her own, it was almost hard to keep up. All the faces of the same man, so different were suddenly juxtaposing on the face of the one in front of her. That’s how she realized.

“Do you...want to have a coffee ? I think we both need a hot drink…”

The eyes and the voice, they had always been the same.

They ended up in the all night coffee shop next to the station. The place was about as empty as it could be, a few patrons here and there and a waitress who would have prefer another shift. The music was soft, the booth comfortable. Their hands were joined in the middle of the table and their hot coco discarded on the far side of the table for the last ten minutes. If you looked carefully, you could see the soft curl of three triangles softly shining on the back of their hands, another proof of what was happening, but too taken they were with each others presence, neither of them seemed to acknowledge their presence.

They had talk about their lives, how for all this time it has felt like something was missing. For the first time Link told someone about his dreams, and Zelda about her own. They spoke endlessly about their families their works, the school. How freeing conducting a train was, and how much a single jar could teach you about your own civilisation.

It felt like no time at all had pass when Zelda realized the first ray of light had started to appear by the large window of the shop. The clock was announcing 6 o’clock, and it was almost time for her to catch her train. They had taken the time to exchange slate number, and as Zelda was dragging him to watch the sunrise on the tracks, the incomprehensible need to tell him she loves him was overwhelming.

How could she just say that to someone she barely knew, if her mother were here she would probably scold her like the teenager she acted like. But when her eyes fell once again into his, it was like the whole world was lit on fire.

She didn’t know him, yet, but her soul did. And if you can’t trust the very soul of the goddess to find true love, then who could you trust ?

She was surrounded by light and Link had never seen anything as beautiful as her right now. The whole evening was surrealist, but even him couldn’t have invented a plot like that for a dream he hasn’t been asleep to have. For all time, the mere concept of Soulmate has seemed somewhat preposterous to him. Not something someone like him could ever hope to have. Even with the dreams. So many of them finished with despair and sadness that he never thought that he would meet her, and live to tell the tale, even less enjoy her mere presence, here, in his favorite place of the world, with her in his arms.

But here she was, and together they were.

Well, she had to leave soon enough, but they knew the real them now, and texting was a thing they could do. Meet up somewhere else and get to know the them from this lifetime, after getting to know all the them from before. They could go on dates, learn to love each other, and spend the rest of their life, knowing that they would never be truly ever appart for long.

Maybe the next one won’t be as nice and peaceful as this one was about to be, but he knew they would be together.

Finally the train arrived, he listened to the sound of the wheels, grinding against the tracks, smelled the smoke of the chimney concealing them from the crowd starting to mass around them. Even now, they felt alone, just the two of them. Neither of them could say which one went for it first, but when their lips met, if was like a hello and a goodbye. The happiness of the start, followed by the bittersweetness of the separation.

It was a promise of more to come.

The ring of the train called them back to reality and Link dutifully brought them to her wagon, helping her with her luggage before dropping a last short kiss on her lips, followed by one on her hands.

“Your highness, I’ll text you when I arrived in Castle Town on the weekend.”

She could feel the blush on her cheeks, she curtsied.

“I’ll be waiting” she paused and winked at him, “Even if I sure hope you will text me sooner.”

He smiled at her and she swear it could have eclipsed the sun.

He watched as the train left the station, too slowly and too quick at the same time. Once it had disappeared, his gaze got lost in the forest surrounding the area. The leaves, as green as her eyes, and red like the blush the hard wind had left on her cheeks.

Yes, Akkala University Station was definitely his favorite assignation.

#zelink #zelink month 2018 #very late entry #missed connection #love story #fanfiction #fic #mywriting #star crossed lovers #zelda botw #zelda breath of the wild #zelda spirit tracks #modern time hyrule

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soundtrackofversace · 3 years

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Episodes 3-5(ish) Summary

Alright guys, buckle up because we’ve got multiple episodes to cover and I don’t want to make this an absolute novel of a post. I’m going to cover episodes 3 and 4, with a sprinkling of 5, but that’s mainly due to a lack of worthy and Shazam-able music (as fun as the untitled orchestral instrumentals behind a lot of the dialogue are, that’s not really what I’m trying to focus on). By now, we’ve figured out that each episode goes further and further back chronologically in an attempt to unravel the origins of Andrew Cunanan and his serial killer tendencies, so we’re tracing each murder before Versace in reverse chronological order.

Episode 3 is all about the murder of Lee Miglin, a closeted, wealthy man from Chicago who occasionally hired Andrew as a male escort. The show switches back and forth between the events that transpired right after Lee’s death and those that led to it, which can get confusing so I’ll try to keep it clear. The opening scene involves his wife coming home from a business trip to a townhouse with some bad vibes. Like ice-cream-left-out and ham-stabbed-with-a-carving-knife-on-her-husband’s-desk bad. So as any sensible, rational human would, she enlists the help of some neighbors and eventually the police to scout out the rest of the house. Only when a cop searches the garage do we see Lee Miglin, bludgeoned to death, head completely duct taped, left in a compromising position and surrounded by gay porn (o o f.).

So how did we get there? Let’s go back a few days; after Marilyn leaves for a business trip, we see Andrew and Lee have a slightly (very) awkward evening of Lee’s naivete surrounding intimacy with men and Andrew’s ego and vanity sporadically popping out. Once they’ve exhausted all their small talk, they move to the garage to engage in what seems to be consensual BDSM (poor Lee), which quickly turns wrong as Andrew begins duct taping his head and tying up his limbs. Cunanan doesn’t disappoint with his terrifying M.O. of degrading his victims, telling Lee he’s going to kill him and leave him in women’s underwear surrounded by gay porn; the camera eventually pans away as he bashes Lee’s head in with a bag of cement. In between scenes of Lee’s murder, there are intimate moments of his wife Marilyn grieving his loss and dealing with the fallout of the scandalous nature of his discovery, which just breaks the heart even more, in addition to watching this poor sweet old man get killed for finally allowing himself to be with another man. But wait! There’s more! Senseless murder, I mean. And not that any of these killings are justified whatsoever, but the person he kills right at the end is truly not a part of Cunanan’s life; he’s just a guy with a car and an impulsive sociopath needed that car. I can’t lie, that was a rough scene to watch without a few tears. So let’s move on!

Episode 4 brings a real love interest of Andrew’s into the mix, not just someone he’s chosen to manipulate under the guise of affection: David Madsen. We start off in Madsen’s loft in Minneapolis, where a clearly tense and vague discussion has gone down between him and Andrew; by clearly tense, I mean David seems to be apprehensive and walking on eggshells while Andrew is unnecessarily cheerful and easygoing (like truly, it’s creepy). We’re not kept in suspense for long when the buzzer rings, signaling the arrival of their mutual friend Jeff, and David goes down to get him. There’s also clearly tension between Jeff and Andrew because Jeff and David spend the way up talking about his erratic behavior, their conversation ending with Jeff confiding that Andrew has stolen his gun.

No sooner do they open the door does Andrew start repeatedly beating Jeff over the head with a hammer in front of David, who immediately goes into shock and stays that way for hours. Instead of gunning for David, Andrew instead tries to comfort him, bathing him, dressing him and reassuring him that he’s safe and taken care of, which is one of the first instances of Cunanan showing real affection for another person. Once David recovers from the initial shock of watching his friend get murdered, he tries to gently convince Andrew to go to the police, to which Andrew comes up with just about every excuse in the book for why that’s a bad idea and would implicate David for Jeff’s murder as much as Andrew. Unable to escape, David is forced to go on the run with Andrew, leaving Jeff’s body at his loft for coworkers and eventually the police to find.

They spend the driving hours having conversations that give David a glimpse of who Andrew really is, and it’s clearly jarring and shocking for him, because Andrew had done a pretty good job of masking his sociopathic tendencies and unsuccessful life. While on the run, the pair stop by a bar to eat; while Andrew has a cathartic experience listening to the woman singing a sad song with an acoustic guitar, David sets out trying to escape Andrew. He excuses himself for the restroom, finds a stall with a window, breaks the glass, and looks out at the world. But due to what I’m guessing are feelings of helplessness (lack of money or transportation), the shame he’d bring upon his family (for being outed to the world as gay), and fear of being charged as an accomplice, he doesn’t go. We get some flashbacks of David as a child with his father fishing on a lake; this relationship gives us an insight into his nature as a kind and hardwork kid with respect for life, or the antithesis of Andrew Cunanan. These scenes become symbolic as the two fugitives end up near a lake similar to that of David’s childhood, but first, David’s got to fully realize what happened with Jeff.

As they’re driving, David realizes that Andrew orchestrated the night of Jeff’s murder to make it easy to implicate David so that he’d have to come on the run with him, and that Andrew murdered Jeff because he had figured out exactly who Andrew was first. These revelations cause a break in Andrew, so he pulls off the road to the side of a lake where he descends into this angry rant about how David has spoiled their future. After a few chaotic minutes, Andrew pulls his gun on David and fires several times; the camera shows David escaping to a fishing shack like that of his childhood, with his father sitting by the fire offering him coffee. From this scene, you get the gut feeling that David did not in fact escape to a little shack, and what do you know, he didn’t. He bleeds silently in the grass for a minute until Cunanan shoots him square in the eye and lays with his body. This is one of the first time we also see some remorse and sadness in Andrew from someone’s murder, which just further shows how much David meant to him.

Bored yet?

Too bad, here’s episode 5.

Just kidding, we’re not going to go over loads of it, because this post is mainly about the relationship between Andrew and David. But we see the explanation of the tense conversation that the pair of them were talking about right before Jeff’s murder. Turns out, Andrew has manipulated his way into a plane ticket to Minneapolis to have what he thinks will be a weekend of the ‘Three Amigos’; these dreams are soon dashed when both David and Jeff say they have plans for a lot of the weekend and won’t be around too much. Andrew takes advantage of the small amount of time he has alone with David to propose to him (!!), in both a profession of his affection for him and a desperate attempt on Andrew’s part to regain some sort of stability and perpetual ego-booster. And of course, instead of a ring Andrew has chosen a completely over-the-top, extravagant and solid gold watch, which shows his need to show his ‘wealth’ (which doesn’t exist because he actually is completely broke due to his need to prove how rich he is all the time). David manages to fend Andrew off by claiming that because they can’t legally marry, they shouldn’t, but of course Andrew pressures him to take time to think about it.

Later in the episode, David has to cart Andrew along on a night out at a polka club (fun?) with his coworkers, and Andrew wastes no time making everyone uncomfortable. When David introduces Andrew as a friend, Andrew seems to be immediately offended, and takes the chance to tell everyone that the watch David’s wearing is worth 10 grand and indicative of how much he means to him. Once they’ve sat down at a table, Andrew launches into a diatribe about his work on the Titanic movie sets in Mexico (obviously bullshit, and different from what he’s told David) and is forced to drag David onto the dance floor to avoid explaining his inconsistencies. Only on the dance floor with polka dancers swirling around them does David officially reject Andrew’s proposal, solidifying the reason there would be tension between them.

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reddiesetandgo · 6 years

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PROMISES, Chapter 1

Pairing: Reddie (main), Benverly, Stenbrough, Mike x Nicole (OC character from the blog letterstothelosers)

Warnings: Child Abuse (brief at the end)

Note from the writer: This is a fic I wrote for @letterstothelosers Creativity Contest. Richie works at the local movie theatre and lives on Mike’s farm with Eddie after they both left their abusive homes behind. They are juniors in High School.

Beverly felt sick. She needed to call Eddie, Ben, one of them. But her hands. Her fucking hands wouldn't stop shaking.

She was standing across from the final theatre at the Aladdin, all the way at the end of the hall. The one where they play the movies no one wants to see anymore, where it’s silent and deserted. That’s why Richie had taken Bev there. He had wanted to talk with her, he’d had something to tell her about Eddie. And now she was standing there in the dimly lit hallway alone, where Richie had stood moments ago. She was still gazing where the door had closed, she could still hear Richie warning “Don't, Bev!”, and she could still smell the lingering sweet perfume of alcohol.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and spun around, startling the small girl who had a look of concern on her face. Beverly recognized her as one of Richie’s coworkers.

“Are you okay?” she asked. She looked behind Beverly, to the door that was already closed back up. “Where’s Richie?”

Beverly opened her mouth to scream, to tell her what she had seen, what he had done to Richie, but all she could say was, “My phone. I can't dial. Can you-” she gulped down the knot that had formed in her throat. “Can you call Eddie for me?”

The girl still looked worried, but she smiled slightly when she heard Eddie’s name. “Richie’s boyfriend? Sure.”

After she had found Eddie in Beverly’s recent call list, she handed Bev back the phone.

Beverly held the phone to her ear, still shaking and now breathing fast, a million things rushing into her mind.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” She asked once more.

Her eyes shot to the girl and she knew she meant well. But Richie...

“I don't know,” she said.

In another part of town, just on the outskirts of Derry, Eddie Kaspbrak was humming a tune to himself. The sun was just beginning to set on the horizon, casting long shadows surrounded by deep, orange light. Eddie was finishing up a chore Mike’s grandfather had given him, one he had been more than happy to work on.

“Eddie,” Mikes grandfather had called out nearly three hours ago. “Mind helping me pick some of them apples in the orchard?”

Eddie’s head had immediately popped out from the doorway, coming face to face with the sometimes stern, but more often kindly man who allowed him and his boyfriend residence on his farm. He was standing straight and tall, arms crossed, and a look that showed neither joy nor displeasure. Dressed in deep brown overalls and a white undershirt, he had placed five or so baskets next to the entryway that lead towards the stables and further on, the orchard. Eddie, he had discovered just about a year ago, loved to pick apples. He was especially skilled in picking the sweetest ones, unlike Richie, who oftentimes picked the bad ones simply to “get them out of the way, Eds”!

Eddie had let a small smile form on his face before answering with a nod and a “Yes, sir!”.

So now Eddie was carrying the final basket, filled to the brim with red and yellow apples to the storage barn just behind the main house. A small breeze blew through the farm, eliciting a pause from Eddie so he could let himself feel the wind on his skin and a thought drifted in his mind.

Richie will be home soon.

His chest felt full at the thought and it bubbled up to his face, forming a wide grin there and dusting his freckled cheeks in pink. Their one year anniversary was fast approaching and Eddie was determined to make it special. How, he was not yet sure. But he still had time and the possibilities filled his mind wherever he went, whenever he looked at Richie, or when he laid down to sleep next to him in their bed.

He pushed himself forward, moving a little faster this time. Once he reached the barn, he gingerly placed the sweet fruit in their proper place. Eddie was careful to not trip over the upturned floorboard, rolling his eyes at the memory of Richie falling flat on the newly delivered carrots he had been toting. Memories of Richie were constantly floating in Eddie’s world, and he wouldn't have it any other way. He turned to leave, but stopped short before reaching back into the basket. He pulled two apples, their skin a pretty mixture of reds and yellows, and he made his way back outside.

The sky was darker now. The sun had fallen just beyond the horizon and only a light shade of purple still lingered there. Eddie was always amazed when he watched the day shift into night. He especially loved it when the stars became visible in the vast darkness after the sun had disappeared completely. That sky was the most beautiful to Eddie.

He saw Mike’s grandfather wave from the porch of the main house and he returned the gesture in kind, noticing the small curve of the old man’s smile. He felt a warm feeling grow in his chest, a fondness that had begun with Mike but had grown to encompass his entire family; Grandfather, farm animals, and all. Who else would have taken in two teenage runaways?

The warmth dissipated slowly across his chest as he made his way back towards the guest house, the crunch of grass sounding underfoot. He twisted the top of his wrist upward, glancing at his watch.

Richie will be home soon.

Eddie rushed up the steps and inside, carefully taking his shoes off at the door; he’d need to clean them later. He eyed his phone which had been left on the small coffee table near the couch, but decided to leave it. Right now he wanted to shower and change. Smelling like an apple orchard, dirt, and sweat may not have bothered Richie, but Eddie wouldn't last long.

He walked into the bathroom and drew his shirt over his head, folding it neatly before he dropped it into the hamper. His fingers moved to unbutton his jeans and his fingers curled around the zipper when he heard the faint sound of his phone ringing. He paused, his anxiety and worry pulling him towards the phone. Would he give in this time?

Bill and Ben were making their way to the Aladdin, watching as the city around them darkened with each passing minute. They were on their way to pick up Beverly from Richie’s hold. He had asked her to meet with him in the middle of a school project and his time was up. Bill had thought nothing of Richie’s last minute request, but Ben swore he could hear something different in the way Richie had asked, “Bev, I just need to talk to you for like, ten minutes. Fifteen tops!” It hadn't made Ben worried, just suspicious. Which is why they were now pedaling on their bikes to the Aladdin to pick up Beverly.

“W-want to stop and p-p-pick up some snacks on the way b-back?”

Ben nodded, not really listening. “Sure, Bill, sounds great.”

They biked the rest of the way in relative silence, Bill mentioning one or two things about the project. He wasn't sure what had made Ben so worried, but now he could feel a small weight forming low in his stomach. Something about the way Ben had looked watching Beverly walk out the door and the way he looked now, eyes set forward and his arms strangely rigid. But maybe he had read Ben all wrong. Richie oftentimes “needed” Beverly. Mostly to talk of Eddie, sometimes for reassurance, and occasionally to calm himself down when he’d dream of his father.

“Uh, Bill?”

He snapped his head to look at Ben, his brows furrowed. “Sorry, I got lost for a m-minute-”

“Your phone…”

“Oh, sh-shit, I didn't even hear it,” he said, reaching a hand back to fumble into his pocket. His bike swayed slightly as he pulled out the phone, glancing at the screen as he tried to steady himself.

“It’s Mike,” he said to Ben. He swiped a finger across the screen, answering on the last ring and putting his friend on speaker.

“M-Mike, what’s up?”

The voice on the other end gave him the same feeling Ben had earlier. “Hey, Bill, have you seen Stan?”

Bill followed Ben as he rounded the corner, the Aladdin coming into view. “He isn't w-w-with you?”

Ben was focusing on something ahead, but Bill didn't notice. “No, he was supposed to be here ten minutes ago to work on our project. But he’s-”

“Never late,” Bill finished.

A short silence fell over the call, both boys trying hard not to jump to any conclusions. In the years Bill had known Stanley, there had never been a time when he had been late for anything. Mike had learned that shortly after that terrible summer. Stan had been the first to arrive on Mike’s farm the very first time he had invited the Losers over. That’s when Mike knew, without a shred of doubt, that Stan was actually a lot softer than he appeared. One look at the tiny, chirping chicks had softened him enough so Mike was able to see his warm, gooey center.

But Mike also knew that Stan was able to take care of himself and he shouldn't be this worried. He shouldn't have worried Bill.

But Bill was worried. And then he saw Ben speed up and he felt himself suddenly worry more. And when he saw two body’s standing outside of the Aladdin that looked like Beverly and Stan, he felt the rock in his stomach grow heavier. He knew it was Stan before he was sure it was Beverly. He could pick Stan out by the curves of his face and the soft, blonde locks that hung slightly into his eyes.

“Mike, I th-think I found Stan. H-hold on.”

He heard a loud “what?” as he gripped the handle bar over his phone and pedaled faster, catching up to Ben and coming to a skidded halt. Beverly was shaking in Stan’s arms.

“Beverly,” Ben breathed, dropping his bike and reaching out for her. She looked at Ben and her face fell, arms open and waiting. He enveloped her as she began to cry, fisting her hands into the back of his sweater.

Stan turned to Bill, taking his hand into his. Bill felt the full force of the weight in his gut, his insides turning as he saw the look on Stan’s face. A mixture of sadness, concern, but mostly anger. Bill reached his free hand up to Stan’s shoulder, looking into the Aladdin for the other Loser he knew should be there too.

Stan shook his head, bringing Bill’s gaze back to him.

“It’s Richie,” he said.

Mike looked out the living room window, searching for Stan up the winding dirt road. He was two minutes late to work on their project, which was so completely unlike Stan. Mike checked his phone again, hoping for a text, a call, anything. He felt his shoulders stiffen when there was nothing on his screen. Should he go ask Eddie? He turned to look in the direction of the guest house, wondering if it was a good idea or not to tell the Losers’ resident worrier that Stanley Uris was late.

“Ten minutes,” he said out loud to himself. “I’ll give him ten minutes.”

Mike busied himself by removing his grandfather’s books and leftover coffee mug from the table, making room for the science books and laptops they’d need. He grabbed two coasters and placed them on either side of the one thing he left on the table; a photo of all the Losers. His grandfather had given it to him as a Christmas gift, placed inside of a red and gold picture frame. It had been one of the most meaningful gifts Mike had ever received. What made it even more special, coming from his grandfather, was what he had said afterward. “I know it’s been hard for you, being homeschooled. And maybe,” he said thoughtfully. “Maybe I was a little hard on you, maybe I asked too much of you sometimes here on the farm.”

Mike had reached out a hand, gently folding his fingers just above his grandfather’s elbow. He looked up to him warmly, mimicking his grandson. “But those friends of yours. They’re good kids, Mike. I see how much they care about you. And if you’ve got them and they’ve got you, then I don’t see why you can’t go with them to school.”

Mike’s eyes had widened then and he looked over his grandfather’s face, knowing deep down that he wouldn’t lie, but expecting this to be some sort of dream. But he hadn’t been lying and Mike had started at school with all of the Losers the first day after winter break.

He was smiling at the memory, but he caught sight of his phone and it soon fell.

He leaned back into the couch, his hands curling around his phone as he dropped them into his lap. Stan was fine, he told himself. He was overreacting. Maybe he saw a bird, an incredibly beautiful bird that Stan just had to stop and see. Mike let out a heavy sigh and let his head rest on the back of the couch, closing his eyes and repeating to himself “you’re overreacting, you’re overreacting.” He could hear a clock ticking from another room and began to count each tick-tock. He lost count once, twice, three times before he finally made it to sixty.

But then his phone vibrated in his palm and the force with which he sat upright made him dizzy. But it wasn't Stan. It was Nicole.

He smiled fondly at the screen, but the nervousness he felt buzzing through his body did not subside. Especially now that he saw it was exactly nine minutes past Stan’s arrival.

He opened his phone and dialed for Bill.

He felt the wind blow through his hair as he stood up on his bike, pedaling faster to gain momentum up the hill. He was exactly fifteen minutes from Mike’s farm, which was, according to Stan, nearly ten minutes and some change away from the exact spot he was on now. He’d be passing the Aladdin soon and wondered if he should stop in to say hi to Richie.

Stan wouldn't say it, but Richie was his best friend. Richie was loud and obnoxious and so incredibly loyal it sometimes made Stan’s head spin. He knew without a doubt that all of the Losers cared about him, but Richie could make Stan laugh when he didn't want to, even in the moments when Stan was sure he’d never smile again. He’d been the only one at his Bar Mitzvah that summer he tried to forget. The small scars on the sides of his face started to burn at the thought and he could feel his chest tighten.

“Bill,” he said to himself, conjuring the sweetest memories of the boy he called his own. When he remembered that summer, when he would look at himself in the mirror, running a hand across the indents on his face that he tried to convince himself did not look like teeth marks, he thought of Bill. And then his world seemed much smaller, more manageable, livable.

As his heart soared just above his head, the Aladdin came into view. It wasn't crowded just yet, only three or four small families were loitering outside trying to make up their minds. Stan stepped off a pedal and swung his other leg around, walking his bike up to the door. He kicked out the stand and parked it gently out of the way, beside the entrance. He’d be in and out, there was no need to lock it up. He entered the building swiftly and looked towards the concession stand. No Richie.

He moved farther in, nodding slightly at the employees he had met before. They all knew he was there for Richie, no one tried to stop him as he turned the corner towards the different screening rooms. There weren't that many, but Stan didn't have much time. He brushed a hand through his blonde curls and thought about turning back. If there was one thing Stan wasn't, it was late.

Except once. Five years ago. Stanley Uris had been late to his own birthday party because Richie Tozier had shown up with a purple and yellow bruise on his wrist that he was desperately trying to hide but couldn't because his shirt was far too small for his arms. Stanley had taken one look at him, seen the panic behind his smile and the way he was holding his wrist, trying to hide the fingerprint bruise, and he’d whisked Richie upstairs without a word. He gave Richie a shirt that had belonged to his father, the sleeves reaching his knuckles, and he’d wrapped his wrist with a bandage. Neither one had said much, but when Bill and Eddie had come up to see why Stan wasn't enjoying his own birthday he simply said, “none of your business” and he pulled Richie back downstairs.

Stan was about to turn around and give up his last minute search when he heard a voice that sounded familiar. “Eddie, pick up your phone!”

Beverly?

Richie was terrified. He wished he could be furious or angry but the last blow he’d received had shut him up. He could still feel his head pounding as his father murmured terrible things beside him.

He had been so careful before. He had always watched the doorways, scanned the crowds, and kept his guard perpetually up.

But today...

He felt the small box in his pocket and he shifted slightly in his seat to keep it hidden. His dad was angry enough, if he saw this Richie wasn't sure he’d make it out of this alive.

When he had called for Beverly earlier today, he had been so incredibly happy. He had felt like he was walking on air and he hated that fucking euphimism but fuck if it wasn't true. His gift for Eddie had come in. The gift for their one year anniversary. And it was so beautiful and so incredibly Eddie it had filled his heart near to bursting. It was a promise ring. Simple in its design, it was a thin, silver band with two words inscribed on the inside.

He had rushed to pick it up on his break from work and he didn't have time to go see Beverly and ask her if it was too much or if he was crazy or if Eddie would get upset at how expensive it was. So he had called Beverly as he was walking into the Aladdin, palming the gift in his pocket. He asked for ten, fifteen minutes tops and Beverly had agreed without much of a fight, despite the two voices behind her groaning about the science project he would eventually have to do too.

He had kept busy waiting for her, walking through each empty theatre and sweeping up the spilled popcorn and discarded candy wrappers. He even dusted the handrails and armrests on each seat, feeling the small box burning a hole into his pocket with every step. How would he keep this a secret for a few more weeks? How would he keep it from Eddie when he would know it was in the same room? How would he-

“Jeeze, Richie, could you have made it any harder to find you?”

Richie spun around and saw Beverly, hands on her hips, and a smirk on her face. He smiled wide then and ran to her, picking her up in his arms and spinning her around.

“Richie!” She cried out. But she was laughing and she was hugging him back. When he had finally set her down, he grabbed her hand and pulled her out from the dark theatre.

“Okay, I was intrigued before, but now I’m dying to know. What the hell is going on?”

Richie was pulling her towards the back of the building, to the last theatre before you hit the side exit. He wanted privacy to show Beverly the gift, but he also needed light. He needed her to see it in all its glory. When they finally arrived to the halls end, under the fluorescent light and just inside of the exit doors, he reached into his pocket.

“I finally got Eddie’s anniversary gift. I needed to show someone because as much as I love it i’m also terrified?”

Beverly was biting back a smile. She wanted to see his gift more than anything, especially because Richie had trusted her enough to show it to her. “Well, let’s see it,” she pushed.

“Okay, but first I gotta explain it because knowing you, you’ll scream and cause a scene.” He smiled, but they both knew it was probably true. He opened his mouth to tell her not to be surprised, that the box meant something important, not that sort of important, but a promise that someday it would. Instead, his eyes focused on a body that was coming up fast from behind Beverly. He recognized him immediately and stepped in front of Beverly like a reflex, his hand flying from inside of his pocket and the color draining from his face.

Wentworth’s entire body was flushed, anger seeping out of every pore and he was coming up to them faster than Richie thought possible. He felt Beverly fist her hand in his shirt, pulling him back towards the exit to escape. “Richie,” she whispered, fear laced in her voice as she pulled harder, more insistent.

But Richie’s mind was racing so fast his legs weren't moving. He was screaming to himself to either run or fight, put his hands up or grab Beverly and run but he couldn't budge under the gaze of his father.

“Richie!”

But then Richie felt a force on the side of his face and he was falling towards the wall. He hit it, hard, and he fell into a crumpled mess on the floor.

Beverly, he thought. Beverly! But his world was spinning and he felt himself being pulled upwards. It was hard to breathe, but he could hear his father’s voice with absolute clarity.

“This. Ends. Now. You’re coming home, Richard.”

His head was pounding and his cheek was burning, but things were coming into focus. He made out his father and his hand curled around the fabric of his collar and he saw, with horror, Bev just beyond him looking like she was going to fight.

He wanted to fight too, but he wouldn't risk her safety. He could get away from Wentworth later, he needed Beverly to be safe.

So he shook his head and choked out “Don't, Bev!” just as Wentworth started pulling him towards the exit.

The older man swiveled to face Beverly, one hand on the door and the other in a vice grip close to Richie’s neck.

Beverly was horrified when she saw her father in his eyes and suddenly her entire body grew cold.

“Tell your fucking friends to stay the hell away from my son. Especially that piece of shit who corrupted him into thinking he’s-”

He closed his eyes, attempting to calm himself, but Beverly heard his hand tighten around Richie’s collar.

“Stay the fuck away from him!” And then he pushed through the doors, pulling Richie in his wake. She needed to go after them, she needed to fight for Richie! But she knew she couldn't do it alone.

We’ll come for you, Richie she thought. I promise we will come for you.

Richie hadn't heard Beverly’s silent promise, but he knew. The ring hidden in his pocket was also a silent promise. A promise he was making to Eddie. And one way or another, he’d keep that promise. He’d find his way out of this, away from his father, and back to Eddie.

#I worked so hard on this I have no idea how I'm going to write a second chapter that is half as good as this one #My fic #Reddie #Richie Tozier #Eddie Kaspbrak #Beverly Marsh #Bill Denbrough #Stan Uris #Mike Hanlon #Ben Hanscom #IT fic #IT Reddie #If you're curious as to why there is so much going on you should check out letterstothelosers #I wrote this fic with their versions of the characters #Which guys is pretty awesome #those losers are the real deal #I love them so much #letters to the losers

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jaybeevega · 4 years

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Blogpost 3-5

“The Life of Pi”

“The life of Pi” this movie is a kind of dramatic movie, tells the fantastical story of Pi Patel, a sixteen-year-old South Indian boy who survives at sea with a tiger for 227 days and there is a lot of lessons that you will learn and it can help you in your whole life. In this story Pi is the only human survived in that disaster and his mom, his dad and his brother died in a middle of disaster and Pi also succeed on surviving 227 days in the middle of the ocean, A lot of problems, challenges, and battles that he experience in order to survive, to the point that there is a time that he wants to give up, there are times that he want to die, but he keep on fighting until he succeed. After all of those problems, challenges and battles Pi survived with a tiger named Richard Parker, Pi and Richard Parker eventually land on the Mexican beach. Richard Parker immediately runs off into the jungle without acknowledging Pi, which Pi finds deeply hurtful. Pi is found, fed, bathed, and taken to a hospital. There, two Japanese men come to question Pi about what caused the Tsimtsum to sink. He tells his story, which they do not believe, so he offers them a more plausible version, with the animal characters replaced by other humans, which casts doubt on the original story. According to Pi “You know, I left so much behind, my family, the zoo, India, Anandi. I suppose in the end, the whole of life becomes an act of letting go. But what always hurts the most is not taking a moment to say goodbye. I was never able to thank my father for all I learned from him. To tell him, without his lessons I would never have survived. I know Richard Parker’s a tiger but I wish I had said, “It’s over. We survived. Thank you for saving my life. I love you, Richard Parker. You’ll always be with me. May God be with you.” The lesson is Learn to let go, to forgive, be humble and stand up for yourself.

1. What life lessons can be learned from the movie?

- the lessons that you can learn in the movie is that to let go, to forgive, be humble, and stand up for yourself

2. What part of the story told by the movie was the most powerful? Why?

- the most powerful part of the movie is that when the typhoon has appeared and their boat is about to destroy and only Pi and other animals survived on that typhoon

3. Who was your favorite character in the movie? Why?

- It is Pi because aside from being a protagonist he is a strong man and even how big is the problems or challenges that has given to him, he never give up, and I am inspired to his story that we can win against our problems and challenges that has given to us.

4. Did anything that happened in the movie remind you of something that has occurred in your own life or that you have seen occur to others?

- the thing that reminds me in this movie is that, when they finally survived Richard Parker runs to the jungle and Pi was hurt because Parker did not even thank Pi for saving him.

“Coco”

The movie entitled “coco” In Santa Cecilia, Mexico, Miguel dreams of becoming a musician, even though his family strictly forbids it. His great-great-grandmother Imelda was married to a man who left her and their daughter Coco to pursue a career in music, and when he never returned, Imelda discarded all forms of music from her family's life before starting a shoemaking business. Miguel now lives with the elderly Coco and their family, including Miguel's parents and grandmother, who are all shoemakers. Coco suffers from memory loss and has become largely non-verbal, but Miguel is very close to her. Miguel secretly idolizes famed musician Ernesto de la Cruz and practices his guitar skills using Ernesto's old films. On the Day of the Dead, Miguel accidentally damages the picture frame that holds a photo of Coco with her mother and her father (the latter's face torn off the picture) on the family ofrenda, discovering that a hidden section of the photograph shows his great-great-grandfather holding Ernesto's famous guitar. Miguel, concluding that Ernesto is his great-great-grandfather, ignores his family's objections and decides to enter the local talent show. Breaking into Ernesto's mausoleum, Miguel takes his guitar to use in the show, but once he strums it, he becomes invisible to everyone in the village plaza. However, he can interact with his skeletal deceased relatives, who are visiting from the Land of the Dead for the holiday. Taking him back with them, they learn that Imelda cannot visit, since Miguel accidentally removed her photo from the ofrenda. Miguel discovers that he is cursed for stealing from the dead, and must return to the Land of the Living before sunrise, or he will become one of the dead; to do so, he must receive a blessing from a member of his family. Imelda offers Miguel a blessing on the condition of ending his dream of becoming a musician, but Miguel refuses and resolves to seek Ernesto's blessing instead. He meets Héctor, who declares that he knows Ernesto, offering to help Miguel reach him in return for Miguel taking his photo back with him, so that he might visit his daughter before she forgets him, causing him to disappear completely. Héctor helps Miguel enter a talent competition to win entry to Ernesto's mansion, but Miguel's family tracks him down, forcing him to flee. Miguel sneaks into the mansion, where Ernesto welcomes him as his descendant, but Héctor confronts them, again imploring Miguel to take his photo to the Land of the Living. Ernesto and Héctor renew an argument from their partnership in life, and Miguel realizes that when Héctor decided to leave to return home to his family, Ernesto robbed him of his guitar and songs after poisoning him, passing them off as his own to become famous. To protect his legacy, Ernesto seizes the photo and has his security guards throw Miguel and Héctor into a cenote pit. There, Miguel discovers that Héctor is his actual great-great-grandfather, and Coco's father. Héctor only wanted to go to the Land of the Living so he could see Coco again. After Imelda and the family rescue the duo, Miguel reveals the truth about Héctor's death. Imelda and Héctor slowly reconcile, and the family infiltrates Ernesto's concert to retrieve Héctor's photo. Ernesto's crimes are exposed to the audience, who jeer at him as he is flung out of the stadium by Imelda's alebrije, Pepita. Ernesto is then trapped under a giant bell, recreating the circumstances of his death; in the chaos, however, Miguel loses Héctor's photo. As the sun rises, Coco's memories are fading; Imelda and Héctor bless Miguel, so that he can return home. After Miguel plays "Remember Me", a song that Héctor wrote for Coco, which Ernesto used as his number one hit, Coco brightens and sings along with Miguel. She reveals that she had saved the torn-off piece of the family photo with Héctor's face on it, and then tells her family stories about her father, thus saving his memory as well as his existence in the Land of the Dead. Miguel's family reconciles with him, ending the ban on music. One year later, Miguel shows his new baby sister the family ofrenda, which now includes Héctor and a recently deceased Coco. Coco's collected letters from Héctor reveal Ernesto's plagiarism, tarnishing his legacy and allowing Héctor to be rightfully honored in his place. In the Land of the Dead, Héctor and Imelda rekindle their romance and join Coco for a visit to the living, where Miguel performs for his family.

1.What life lessons can be learned from the movie?

- The life lesson I have learned after watching the movie was we should remember our family who had been passed away , not only the member of the family but to those person who shows good or nice to us their memories should remain in our heart and treasure everything they have done for us.

2. What part of the story told by the movie was the most powerful? Why?

- When Miguel finally meet his great grandfather who was his idol. In a reason where they had been working together and surpasses many difficulties in their journey not knowing that Miguel already met his idol without knowing.

3. Who was your favorite character in the movie? Why?

- Its Miguel, despite from his family who strictly forbids music in their lives he still pursue his dreams.

4. Did anything that happened in the movie remind you of something that has occurred in your own life or that you have seen occur to others?

- The time when Coco forget her father, it's because of the hatred they become selfish and think only about their selves.

“Kimi No Nawa(Your Name)”

The movie “Kimi no nawa(your name)” is a Japanese movie. Mitsuha Miyamizu is a high school girl living in the rural town of Itomori near Hida. She is bored living in town and wishes to be a boy in her next life. She inexplicably begins to switch bodies intermittently with Taki Tachibana, a high school boy in Tokyo, when they wake up in the morning. They both initially believe these experiences to be vivid dreams, but eventually realize they can communicate with each other, by recording messages on paper, phones and sometimes on each other's skin. Mitsuha (in Taki's body) sets Taki up on a date with his coworker Miki Okudera, while Taki (in Mitsuha's body) causes Mitsuha to become popular at school. One day, Taki (in Mitsuha's body) accompanies Hitoha and Yotsuha to leave the ritual alcohol kuchikamizake, made by the sisters, as an offering to the Shinto shrine on a mountaintop outside the town. It is believed to represent the body of the village guardian god, ruling over human experiences and connections. Taki reads a note from Mitsuha about the comet Tiamat, expected to pass Earth on the day of the autumn festival. The next day, Taki wakes up in his body and goes on a date with Miki, who tells him she enjoyed the date but also that she can tell that he is preoccupied by thoughts of someone else. Taki attempts to call Mitsuha on the phone, but cannot reach her and the body-switching ends. Taki, Miki, and their friend Tsukasa travel to Gifu Prefecture by train on a trip to Hida, though Taki does not know the name of the town, instead relying on sketches he has made of the surrounding landscape from his memory. A restaurant owner in Hida, who is originally from Itomori, recognizes one of Taki's sketches. Taki and his friends arrive in the town, which is now destroyed by a meteor and five hundred people were killed three years after the comet Tiamat unexpectedly fragmented. While gazing over the impact crater, in disbelief that everyone he met in Mitsuha's body had died this entire time, Taki sees that Mitsuha's messages have been permanently deleted from his phone and their memories start fading away. Taki finds every names in the record of fatalities and wonders if the body-switching was just a dream. While Miki and Tsukasa return to Tokyo, Taki goes to the shrine alone to drink Mitsuha's sake from the bottle, hoping to reconnect with her body and warn her about the comet. After drinking the sake, Taki lapses into a vision, where he sees Mitsuha's past. When she was a child, her mother died of an illness, and her father abandoned the family to pursue politics and become the mayor, leaving Mitsuha and her sister to be raised by their maternal grandmother. He learns that he met Mitsuha on a train three years earlier, when she arrives in Tokyo to find him while the body-switching was occurring in her timeline but not yet due to happen for another three years. Before leaving the train in embarrassment, she leaves Taki with the braid, which he has worn on his wrist as a good-luck charm. Taki wakes up in Mitsuha's body at the house on the morning of the festival. Hitoha deduces what happened, and tells him the body-switching ability has been passed down among the family caretakers of the shrine. Taki convinces Tessie and Sayaka, two of Mitsuha's friends, to make everyone evacuate the town, by disabling the electrical substation and broadcasting a false emergency alert. Realizing that Mitsuha is in his body at the shrine, Taki goes back to find her and Mitsuha wakes up in Taki's body. When Taki reaches there during the sunset, the two sense each other's presence, but are separated temporally by three years and cannot see each other. When twilight falls (referred to in the film as "magic hour" or "kataware-doki" they return to their own bodies and meet in person for the first time. After Taki returns the braid to Mitsuha, they attempt to write their names on each hands so they will remember each other, but twilight passes and Mitsuha disappears before she can write hers. When the evacuation plan fails, Mitsuha determines to convince her father, the mayor, to evacuate the town. Before doing so, Mitsuha notices her memories for Taki starting to fade, and discovers he wrote "I love you" on her hand instead of his name. Despite the evacuation, the meteor crashes to Earth and destroys Itomori. Taki wakes up in his own time, remembering nothing. Five years later, Taki has graduated from university and searches for a job. He senses he lost something important he cannot identify, but feels drawn to the town's disaster, in which the inhabitants have survived by following the mayor's evacuation order. One day, Taki and Mitsuha see each other when their trains draw parallel, and they separately disembark and search for each other, finally meeting at the stairs of Suga Shrine. Taki calls out to Mitsuha, saying that he feels that he knows her, and she responds that she has the same feeling. With their connection re-established, they shed tears of happiness and simult.

1.What life lessons can be learned from the movie?

- The lesson I've learned in the movie was in every situation do not hesitate to offer things that you can do and share what you have for better , just like Taki where he find Mitsuha to prevent the incoming disaster

2. What part of the story told by the movie was the most powerful? Why?

- When Taki and Mitsuha finally had conversation in person wherein they are both excited and nervous. They become very comfortable to each other and Taki reminds Mitsuha that she can still save everyone from the incoming disaster.

3. Who was your favorite character in the movie? Why?

- Taki , because he sacrifices everything and look for the girl he wants and to confirm if she is fine. Despite from the gossips and news he heard he still want to help and save Mitsuha

4. Did anything that happened in the movie remind you of something that has occurred in your own life or that you have seen occur to others?

- The sacrifises and effort of Taki, cause in real life we must sacrifise and give effort to the things we are happy to do.

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katherineshep · 6 years

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A coolest experience in a while

Have drawn out half a 30-sheeted sketchbook in one evening. How? Oh, it's a nice story to tell...

Today I've had maybe the most hardcore and in the same time exciting drawing experience I could get, not studying for an artist - I was drawing from a model. In drawing class.

First, it always seems to me that I'm missing interesting events, in recent times I need more and more bright emotions - to nourish my creative abilities, for example, and also so the unpleasant daily routine didn't ruin my mood. So when this drawing class jumped on me in Google results (because few days ago I accidentally googled affiche of interesting events in my city instead of movie affiche), I just couldn't miss the possibility, especialy when drawing of full body from a living model to have some insights on body anatomy is just super-cool for any beginner artist. So I ordered my place in the event and was in great anticipation of today's evening.

First, the place where class was held was just adorable. Kyiv has plenty of plants that have bankrupted or that were plundered bolt by bolt, so the forgotten plant buildings are sold to people who can make these walls a thing of art by making it a loft-style exhibition or conference halls, coworkings, stylish caffeteria or whatever that building will fit for. The building I came to was one of those long time ago abandoned plants, especially the first floor with its 7-meters-high ceiling (that first floor was definitely a manufactory itself and once there were machine-tools which assembled the details for ships). Brick walls and all and ventilation (and god knows what else) tubes at the ceiling were painted in white, which, along with beautiful lightbulb chaplets that lighted the hall in warm colour, made the hall very bright and cozy. There was a tiny stage at the center of the hall with chairs set around it - lots on the front side, some on the rear side. The hall was empty because I messed up the time and came too early, so I had enough time to see all the new place and even to go grab a coffee.

Then, when the time came, people began to gather. I did not expect much people at first, but when the master of the event was doing the last preparations for the class, he told me that they gather here every week for around three years now (that's when I clearly felt that I must be wandering not the right places in the Internet XD ). When the standing chairs were filled by half, I understood that at least half of people who came there today have met here pretty much - there were lots of friendly talks out there.

More people were coming. The masters of the event have brought free tea and drinks. Artists were unpacking their sketchbooks, albums, pencils, pastels, one girl had a set of Copic markers (they are daaamn expensive here so I was like "ohh there's those markers of my dream, OH MY" - not that I am experienced enough to paint with markers at the moment, but still, a person must aim for new heights or there won't be a progress). Though, the view of Promarkers which my neighbour put at the chair near her have plastered my gaze to them as well XD I've read they're very good and I was curious in actually seeing someone drawing with them, you know, as a live test and inspiration.

In few minutes all the chairs were taken, even there was need in more of them, because there was about 35 artists sitting there (good that that hall we were in had chairs to fill all the hall while the class was using about a quarter of all the space), and they were of all ages. Finally I saw the girl in a sample dress near the stage, in few seconds she took off her wear and walked up the stairs to stand on the stage in the light of floodlights.

What a model we had! First of all, I was in complete awe - she had eastern face (I mean, chinese, or japanese, or korean - I'm not good at defining precisely, no such experience). Not that it was super-rare to see a person with eastern face, but we're definitely not the country young people from Korea or Japan might dream to live in, so if we have some people with that appearance, it's either those few tourists that happened to stay here, or just Ukrainians who have one or both parent of eastern roots. Meeting a drawing model is rare, having an eastern drawing model is a jackpot.

Along with that, only a few days ago I've tried to sketch eastern faces, african faces and indian ones, as these people have slightly different facial features from our common europoid face type. I've got Shepard's father to sketch, after all, I have to know how to draw the face that gave my Shep eastern features)

The model chose a pose, and the master commanded to begin drawing.

In first two seconds it was odd to see a person completely undressed - in not an intimate athmosphere, I mean. But then the oddity was gone, as well as the thoughts of watching my neighbours' work were forgotten - I had 5 seconds (!) to make my sketch before the model changes the pose. The order was following: a bunch of five-seconds sketches, few of 10 seconds then, twenty seconds per sketch, thirty seconds. A minute (thank god!), then five, ten, fifteen. Saying sincerely, at first 5-seconds-sketching I didn't manage to even have a decent curves or something, so I decided to practice skeletons (I mean these, they help to build angles and length of limbs correctly). Ten seconds didn't give much help, the proportions of were just awful. On fifteen (or the next step was twenty?) I learned to draw skeletons faster than before and to give pretty good pose, given the scarcity of time. And - you know, this extreme warm-up is actually one of the best training of speed of drawing and fast capturing the basic points of the figure by eye. You instantly feel like your eyes become sharper, your feelings crystallize, your hand glides the paper with pencil more easy (and the best-looking drawings are those which are drawn with confidence, I usually create those in a MASSIVE inspiration flow, and when it subsides, I cannot see whether I draw right lines anymore). The more time I was given, the more detail I could add, the more I could capture with precise and even measure the model's body parts with a pencil when my eyes failed me. Then the count was is minutes, and after few poses we finally had a break - after more than an hour of fast sketching.

That was the moment when I withdrew my gaze from a model and felt... so aliiive and massively mindfucked at the same time. I walked around the hall, had some tea and had a talk with one girl in the row after me. In a row with many other things we discussed drawing instruments, and then I noticed an awesomely shadowed drawing in her album. I asked how to make such a beauty in such a short time...

She drew a messy hatching in one line with the side (!) of her hand-sharpened 6B Koh-I-Noor pencil and then wiped the drawn area with a finger, giving a bigger pressure to one side of the area and lesser to another.

There was a peeeerfect shade. And that felt like supernova exploding in my head - I knew that technique of shading, but as well as my drawing class teacher in university taught me to do separate hatches, I was usind said technique. Shading with wiping the area felt a very long and tiresome work... but hell, it only needed a very soft pencil to use that way of shading! It was so obvious! A girl explained, that my mechanical pencil is good too, but it'll need so many more hatching that it'll slow me down.

So I took one of my usually unused Koh-I-Noors from my pencil box (luckily, I've had 3B) and used it for a next sketch.

The second session had three poses of 20 minutes each. Then I saw the results of the advice of my new friend: shading with soft pencil was like +100500 boost to my shading skill. The sketch I was drawing now looked much more real than any of the previous (and by 10-minutes sketches I managed to make 2 pretty decent, but they lacked shading because I had no time to hatch them with separate lines my mechanical pencil produced).

That was the best my work in this evening. During the next pose my brain become exhausted and I was loosing an ability to see proportions and shades. But I went on - I had to.

The model took a beautiful fabric to hold with her for the last sketch. Damn, that woman was a Goddess at all, with or without a cloth, in every pose she made, in the way she looked. You know, when you start learning to draw and you sketch people, and in most perfect case - strangers in the public places, you try to absorb the details of their faces and eventually start to see a beauty in every feature, then - in combination of them. Some features can be not perfect, but they combine on a person's face in such a way that all together is truly beautiful! Then you understand how unique each of us are. Then you start to be excited with human body - all the smallest noticeable facial expressions, how the light caresses the skin, how the tiny wrinkles at the outer corner of the eye reveal a person who smiles a lot. Sometimes you not only see an emotion (joy, sadness) or the state of a person (for example, his/her anticipation or tiredness), but also the trace of experience from their life on their faces, like wrinkled forehead shows the person who is being confused a lot in his life.

And here, with a model in front of you, you notice some things - like whether the belly is flat or whether you like breasts shape - for only a moment! Let's face the truth, we are being constantly fed with beauty standards from TV and magazines so the thought of that sort may show at first. But then in like two seconds those tiny imperfections do not bother you anymore. Because you're an artist at work, you see the beauty in human body and you must pass it on, that's your purpose in this moment. Then you get to know the feeling, that whatever that body is, it really IS beautiful as a creation of life, and there can be beauty in any of model's unique features. The pesron in front of you is a masterpiece of nature even without a body of a top model, and you must respect that. You must carefully put that beauty into your drawing - not lying, not giving your figure on a sketch the features she doesn't have. When you draw a real person, you must be sincere as mush as you can, only then you give proper respect to that person's unique nature.

I've being pulling the last drawing untild the model started to TURN. Slowly, but to turn away from you - and you can't have the same pose from where you are anymore. That's when my tired brain started to guess the wrong shades and lines to finish the sketch, and I had to stop so the drawing wasn't ruined. Better it be unfinished, but beautiful sketch, than the messed up drawing.

So I got up to my feet and silently walked behind all the chairs - to have a secret look at other artists' works. Every of the artists had different style, instruments, techniques: while one made a pencil sketch, others managed to draw a full-coloured drawings. They also had very different level of profficiency, but that didn't stop any of them. On the contrary, you mustn't stop when the drawing, a hard thing actually, doesn't goes as planned at first - because every your sketch is a tiny stone in a foundation of your skill, an if you want to build something above the ground - forge yourself as an artist with a constant work.

So, after that walk, the light discomfort I, a damn beginner, felt in a hall full of drawing people finally fully subsided.

Now - I'm very tired and sleepy, because drawing, especially so fast and unusual, is a hard mental work.

But it was one of the greatest evenings since... maybe the last cosplay festival. And along with feeling exhausted, I feel very much content.

/And sorry if you see any typos. I strongly need a rest now, but I coundn't not to leave this as I, well, like to write down bright moments of life so there were nice warming posts for me to reread and recall once again./

#drawing #theartistsway #artists on tumblr #artists of tumblr #katherineshepart #irl #katshep talks #positive #sketching #inspiration

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54kg · 7 years

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Jongin - Come Home (M)

Jongin x (Y/N) scenario

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Oral sex, vanilla sex

Word count: 4552

Saturday mornings always bring tired eyes and lazy Netflix binges tangled in a blanket on the sofa. At least, they have for the past month. I don't have anything better to do anyway. My roommate won't be back from her home-stay for another 6 months. I've nearly forgotten the scent of her floral perfume wafting through the apartment as she scurries around getting ready for work. She hates her job, but keeps a smile on her face regardless. Despite frequently working overtime and off-duty business calls, not to mention lowkey harassment from a coworker (something she doesn't trust will be properly dealt with if she notifies her lackadaisical boss), she remains optimistic. She's like a ticking bomb. Though she doesn't like to admit it, I know that she has a limit. It's only so long until she explodes, and I'm not ready to see such a mess sprawled out before me.

But honestly, as I sit flipping through an endless scroll of B-movies I can't be bothered to waste brain cells sitting through, all I can think about is one person, and it certainly isn't my optimistic roommate. Letting the remote go limp in my hand for a moment, I grab at my phone lazily perched on my hip. No new messages. Damn. How long has it been anyway? 3 days? He could at least drop a text to say "Good morning" or "Sweet dreams" or "I love you~". Even a "Thinking of you" would do. But he's been completely silent for far too long (3 days can seem like a long time when you're completely and utterly in love with someone who isn't near you). It's not like we promised to talk everyday, but considering that he's 92093842347 miles away from where I am, I would be willing to hear even just a small peep from him at least once a day. He must be busy, I tell myself, setting my phone aside again as I begin to harass the remote buttons. "God damn it, there has to be something to watch on here!" And yet there isn't. Either I've watched everything already or there's nothing interesting left. So I pull up YouTube instead. Perhaps a few random tutorials and Story Times down the road, I'll actually find something to binge on. As soon as I open the screen, however, one thumbnail catches my eye and I feel a pang in my chest. '170425 EXO’rDIUM in NY - Acoustic Medley'. I try to hide my frown, if not only to trick my spirits into staying light. My fingers move on their own, and I'm sucked into the melodic harmony of all the members singing Call My Baby and Love, Love, Love, and other songs he's sung to me while I fall asleep nestled in his warm embrace. He looks so content, sitting there among his near brothers, lifting the mic to his lips when it's his turn to sing, gazing out at all the fans who adore him so passionately. And it's almost the same look he gives me when he comes home sometimes after work and holds me in his arms, something we aren't able to do as much as we'd like. I know that I'm the only one who gets that extra special look, that look of "this is the most beautiful person I've ever met in my life". I give him the same one.

Kim Jongin is warm-hearted to a fault. Literally anyone who meets him could tell you that he's always a gentleman, and he's always polite, but he also knows how to joke around. He's the epitome of the perfect sweetheart. It's no wonder he has young girls worshiping him around the world. But, of course, what they see on the screen, even what they are sometimes lucky enough to see in person, is only a part of the man we know as Kim Jongin. Behind closed doors he's so much more. He shows me aspects of his personality that he'd never show anyone else. There's so much to know about Jongin. There's so much to understand, and adore, and protect. Although he's undoubtedly tough, he also has a certain fragility about him, which only makes me care for him more deeply.

I just want him to come home. A month is a long time to be deprived of seeing the one person you love above all else. He's been really good about replying to my texts of encouragement and also the ones that say things like "Oh my god, when the fuck are you getting home, I'm about to die!!!" Although I know he's busy and probably isn't supposed to be on his phone. I get his messages and have to remind myself that it's not, in fact, 4am where he is when he sends them. I can only imagine how the time difference affects him. Poor baby works too hard anyway. We'd tried calling each other once only to have to keep it short because he was getting ready to go to rehearsal at 8am while it was 9pm in Korea. Before we'd even had a chance to talk heart-to-heart, his manager called him away. He promised he'd call another time or maybe even Facetime, but his schedule got more detailed as the days went by. Even before the tour, they were so preoccupied with preparations that he decided it was best to just stay at the company for the time being until after their return. Hence why we haven't seen each other for a month. EXO's schedules get especially rigorous during comebacks and tours. I feverishly worry for him, for all of them.

The video ends and I scold myself when I realize a tear has trickled from my eye. "Come home..." I murmur, my voice cracking. My phone buzzes and my hand has never flown so fast to pick it up. A big smile graces my lips when I look at the screen.

'Sorry, we got really busy. It's times like these when I really, really miss you... xoxo, Nini <3'

The tour comes to an end. EXO is finally coming home. I've spent the entire day preparing dinner, creating a nice romantic atmosphere. The dining room has been expertly transformed into a more fancy setting with a table for two all dressed up with a brand new tablecloth and candle, and a little vase of lavender. I'm thoroughly impressed with myself, though I don't like to brag. I collapse onto the couch when everything is ready, dinner only needing to be put into the oven. Holding my phone above my face, I open my texts, reading over the last message Jongin sent me. 'Omg omg omg can you believe I'm coming home to you today?!' which was a more giddy response than usual. This is the longest we've gone without seeing each other in at least a year. We've grown accustomed to being able to be together at least twice a week. Sometimes we get lucky and EXO's manager will secretly let me come to practice on the condition that Jongin won't get too distracted.

'When does your plane land?' I type, looking at the time to see that it reads 1:23pm (I got too excited and prepared everything way too early in advance, but oh well). I would go to the airport, but I've been warned that because somehow no one has figured out about mine and Jongin's relationship yet during the two years we've been together, it's risky to show up and have people suspect anything. We aren't ready to reveal anything just yet, partly because I'm not famous or anything, so both of us want to protect my privacy for as long as we can. There's no way I want to touch the surface of sasaeng territory.

My phone buzzes almost immediately. '6 more hours... >.<' I giggle at the cute little emoji. Even when he's not with me, he still manages to make my heart flutter just as much. I send back a crying emoji and tell him to get some sleep (if the boys will let him). And then I go to take a shower. Dinner and ambiance aren't the only surprises I've conjured up. A cute little pink parcel with a silk bow tied around the handles sits waiting at the end of my bed. I'll slip that new gem on later tonight after dinner when he least expects it...

6 hours pass by agonizingly slow. Even Netflix isn't helping to make time fly quicker. Every now and then I'll get a cute little text from Jongin saying he wants to call, but the guys won't shut up so hearing each other would be difficult. I tell him it's fine. We talked on the phone just yesterday anyway, and we got a good hour in. He says he wants to hear my voice. I reply that he will soon~

We text for a little while and then he says he'll get some shut eye so he'll have energy when he gets home to me. His manager has generously arranged for him to be allowed to see me first thing when they arrive. The clock ticks mockingly above the mantel piece. It's only 4 now... 3 hours to go. It's never felt so long. If time keeps acting like this, I'm never going to let Jongin go on tour again... But that would be selfish and how would I even be able to pull off something like that? Still, Jongin has me missing him like there's no tomorrow.

Finally, the clock reads 8pm. 'We're landing!' he texts and sends an excited gif to go along with it. I chuckle to myself and jump up from the couch where I've been wasting time on nothing in particular.

I push the braised chicken into the oven and turn on the timer. After quickly checking to make sure that everything is in place, I go to the bedroom to make sure everything looks neat and the lingerie I bought is out of sight in case he happens to go into the bedroom for some reason. It's a strapless black and red lace piece with garters and stockings and everything. There are even tiny pink bows down the bodice. Best of all, it fits me perfectly in all the right places~ I've only ever gotten one set of lingerie in the past, but after using it twice, I figured it was time for something fresh that Jongin has never seen me in before. This certainly was a contrast to the rather plain white one I had before. I was much shier then and I'd never worn anything so scandalous in my entire life. Jongin had told me then that he didn't care if it was the plainest one in the whole world. "You look stunning in anything~" I blush remembering those words, just imagining our night steadily approaching.

I slip into a cute little dress and finished up dinner just as I get a text from him. 'On my way over~ ;)' My stomach does flips in anticipation. Seeing his face in person for the first time in what seems like forever, hearing that voice that sounds like melted caramel, feeling his arms tightly wrapped around my figure as if our bodies are perfectly molded together, breathing in his familiar scent, kissing him with all the passion I've saved up while he's been gone, these are the things that have me practically sprinting around the apartment in excitement. He's minutes away and yet those minutes feel like 6 hours all over again.

Suddenly, a soft knock comes at my door. Without even meaning to, I hold my breath. Taking one last look in the mirror to make sure I appeared just right, I speed over to the door and collect myself before turning the knob and opening it to see him standing there, smiling bright with a bouquet of lilies in his hand. I stare at him, starry-eyed. He stares right back, his smile never faltering as we both drink in each other's presence. He hands me the bouquet, a bashful look on his face, and my heart skips as I breath in their sweet aroma. Where did he find the time...? Breathlessly, I speak first. "Jongin...you're home..." And then he suddenly rushes forward and scoops me into his arms, twirling me around in the air as I hold on, giggling with pure joy. He kicks the door shut and immediately attaches his lips to mine. I wrap my arms around his neck as he massages my waist with his thumbs.

"God, I missed you so fucking much..." he says in almost a whisper, his forehead pressed against mine. I smiled blissfully and caress his cheek with my hand.

"Honey, you can't even imagine know how much I missed you." He smirks, pecking my nose.

"I think I can guess~"

He practically gapes at the setup I've prepared. "Woah, you actually cooked for once?" I playfully shove him and tell him to "just sit and enjoy it because now might be the only time you get something like this from me." He laughs and we sit, and over dinner, he tells me all about the tour and how the boys drove him nuts, but it was okay because being with them was always worth it. He tells me the story about how Sehun, Junmyeon and Jongdae got lost on their first day in New York and they had to pretend that they totally meant to be in some shoe store when really it was the only familiar thing to them in the vicinity. And he tells me about how after one show, he a few others got drinks in their rooms and he had a little too much. "The guys told me the next morning that I had been crying and acting like a total baby, rambling on about how I didn't deserve you and how you were probably going to find somebody else way better than me and then what was I going to do because you're my world and..." He trails off, seeing the look on my face. "Babe, what's wrong?" I reach across the table for his hand and give it a tight squeeze. I want to hold him when I hear him say those things. What you say when you're drunk is often what you're actually thinking in the back of your mind, even if you don't realize it.

"You deserve me more than anyone, love. I'm not going to find anybody else. Why would I need to find anybody else? I love you, Jongin. I can't imagine loving another person quite like how I'm in love with you..." I gaze into those gorgeous chocolate pools, a serious yet soft expression on my face. He gets all shy then and grins like a little boy. I love the small moments like these. They're never awkward, although when we do stuff like this in front of the members, most of their reactions go something like "gEt a rOom!" and "jUNMYEON JONGIN AND (Y/N) ARE DOING THAT MUSHY THING AGAIN-" or "help! the cheesiness in slowly killing me!" (of course Junmyeon and Yixing are in the corner, cooing at us like doting parents).

After I've put the dishes away, I tell Jongin to wait in the living room while I change into something a little more comfortable. Unlike the last time, I feel not a tinge of embarrassment while putting on my lingerie because I know Jongin genuinely loves this kind of surprise and would never want me to be ashamed of showing him my body. And the hungry look he gets in his eyes when we do these things is honestly the hottest look in the universe, way more so than what he displays on the stage. Once everything is in place, I sneak back out into the living room. He sits on the sofa with his back towards me. 'The perfect opportunity' I think, tiptoeing over to him. I lean down and cover his eyes with my hands, getting close to his ear and murmuring in a husky tone, "Guess who~" I can feel his entire body tense. I remove my hands and make my way around the sofa to stand in front of him, letting my hair fall loosely around my shoulders. His jaw hangs as he looks me over.

"Is that new?" he asks, and I can hear a tinge of excitement in his voice. I nod, swiveling my hips a little. He smiles. "Do a little turn so I can see it better." I do this, and when I'm facing him again and I can see that he's swallowing hard, starting to imagine things.

"Do you like it?" He stands up and stalks over to me, pressing his body against mine with his hands squeezing my hips.

"Do I like it?..." His lips come dangerously close to my ear as his breath tickles the sensitive skin around it. "I love it..." I lean into him as his hand travels a little farther and grabs my ass, pulling me closer. Our lips collide and his tongue soon slithers out to fight with mine. This. This is what I had desperately waited for during those 2 months. After not having it for so long, I never knew it could already feel this good.

Suddenly, he hoists me up and I wrap my legs around his waist, our lips never parting for more than a second so that he can adjust my position to be more comfortable. He then makes his way towards the bedroom. My heart pounds with excitement. I can barely contain myself and I know he can tell. My fingers become tangled in his hair as he pushes the door shut with his foot and sets me on the bed, immediately crawling over me. I let my hands wander up his shirt to feel his toned stomach as he attacks my jaw and neck and collar bones with his kisses, leaving a few marks in their wake. He's already got me sighing, wanting as much as I can get. As he moves to my shoulders, he pulls one of my legs to his hip with the hand that isn't propping him up. His fingers tease down my thigh over and over and my entire body begins to tingle. Jongin pulls away for a moment to that I can assist in discarding his shirt. "Thank you, that was really in the way," I breathe, my fingers returning to his exposed skin right away. He places a hand over mine and guides it against his stomach. His eyes bear into mine all the while, as if daring me to go further. Not just yet...

With my other hand, I reach up to grab his shoulder, pulling him down and rolling on top of him. I straddle his hips, carefully dragging my lips from his chest to his neck where I leave my own marks. They'll fade before he needs to be seen in public again. The boys will have a couple of days off anyway. A small groan leaves Jongin's throat and I chuckle. "Already?" As I scatter his collarbones with small but noticeable love bites, he writhes underneath my touch as my hands inch closer and closer to his growing erection hidden behind the fabric of his skinny jeans. I pull myself up to admire my work and that's when he turns the tables and again I'm beneath him. His eyes are full of beastly hunger. I can see it dripping through his skin almost and it immediately ignites something within me. He scours my laced intimate and cocks his head, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek in thought. He traces his thumb over a bit of the delicate material just above my breast. "As much as I could drunk on seeing you in this," he says in a deep voice that's already getting me heated. "I'm afraid it's going to have to come off right this minute." My tongue darts out over my lips as I reach up and gently drag my finger across his jaw.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" I say, my voice laced with honey. "Take it off of me~"

He wastes no time in doing so. He promptly rips the lingerie from me and absorbs my body in all it's naked glory. "Fuck, you're so gorgeous~" he coos, kissing my breasts, and then my stomach, and then my hips. "How is that a person can be this beautiful no matter what?" I gently grab a fistful of his hair as he props up my legs and teases my inner thighs with his butterfly kisses. "I'm the one who gets all of this," he murmurs, getting dangerously near to my gradually aching womanhood. "Tell me how you want me to make you feel good, baby~" His lips press against my thigh again. "Here?"

"Yes..." I breathe. He kisses a little closer to my core.

"Here?" The heat within me only grows. I nod.

"Yes~" His lips inch closer.

"How about here?" A soft whimper emerges from my mouth. I need him already! He finally kisses my womanhood, which is becoming wetter by the moment. "And what about this spot...right here?" His tongue flicks out and I slightly arch my back, squeezing the fistful of his hair a little tighter.

"Yes, Jongin!" I moan. He laughs breathlessly.

"So that's the spot, hmm?" His tongue teases it again. My lips purse. "Should I keep doing it like this for a bit?" He gives a long lick right up to the tip of my folds. I nod enthusiastically. I hear him do that smug grin he always does when he's about to do something really "good". All of a sudden, his tongue begins to swirl around my core, pumping in and out, swirling, in and out, more spirals. I'm a writhing mess, but his hands on my waist keep me grounded. I can tell he enjoys seeing me so vulnerable under his touch. As I'm approaching my high, he incorporates his fingers and I whine a bit at the sudden contact. One finger, then two, then three. I'm almost there. I can feel a knot twisting in my stomach, slowly growing more intense. My back arches off the mattress and that's when he ceases his actions. I give a little noise of discomfort at the suddenly cold air hitting my womanhood. "Don't worry, baby, you won't be upset for long." He crawls up over top of me again and takes me hand in his, leading it to the button on his pants. He gives a small smile, a mischievous one. My whole body is throbbing with want. I quickly unbutton his pants and he kicks them off of the bed. He's getting impatient, too, just like I am. Now he's just in his boxers. I eye them for a moment and then look back up at him, my hand moving to the bulge pressed against the fabric. As I start to palm him, his brows furrow with pleasure and his eyes shut momentarily.

"Look at me, Jongin," I command sweetly, going a bit fast. He kisses me roughly and then he can't stand it anymore. I grabs my hand and pins it above my head, tearing his boxers off and letting his member spring free. My mouth opens silently as I anticipate what's going to happen next. "Don't go easy on me, hmm?" I say, letting my free hand slowly travel up his tones bicep.

"Oh, I won't, so get ready." He positions his cock at my entrance. Before I can even prepare myself, he's pushing into me. I squeeze my eyes shut. It's been a little while since we've done this, but luckily I'm wet enough so that it's not all that painful. "Are you okay?" he asks, his tone suddenly laced with concern. I tighten my grip on his arm and nod.

"I'm fine, keep going..." He slows his pace when inserting and finally I've taken all of him. He pauses to let me adjust. "Okay," I signal. Jongin starts thrusting at a leisurely pace, making sure I'm not uncomfortable. He's such a sweetheart, no matter what. I look at him with an arched eyebrow. "I thought you weren't going to go easy,"

"Yeah, but if you-"

"Jongin..." He knows what that means. I nod as one final reassurance that I can handle him. He inhales and all of a sudden his pace picks up. I hold back my moans for a bit, but soon he's pounding into me and I can't help out. I let out a loud whine and the smug grin returns as he starts to pant. My hand wanders over every inch of his body that I can reach, but he teases and places it with my other hand so that I'm completely pinned underneath him. My torso twists with pleasure as he abuses my womanhood in only the best of ways. Low grunts and groans simmer in his throat. A few moans of "(y/n)" lathered in sex emerge from his lips. The noises coming from me become more frequent, too, more needy. His name slips out every so often in the form of a cry whenever he hits a particular spot.

The room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and feverish breathing and whines and pleasureful moans of ecstasy. In that moment, I'm so thankful that the walls have been somewhat soundproofed so the people in the apartment next door won't be able to hear as much. Jongin buries his face in the crook of my neck, his steamy breath trickling over my skin. I'm getting close and so is he. "Cum on my stomach, baby," I tell him, hardly any strength left to speak. He groans in response, picking up the speed a bit. My back arches to meet his chest as his thrusts become uncontrollable and lose their rhythm. My orgasm explodes within me and I swear I've never felt anything so beautiful in my life. White strings of release flow out onto him as Jongin rides out my high. His breathing get more staggered. He inhales sharply and pulls out quickly before his release quirts out onto my exposed stomach. He lets out a loud groan as he strokes himself off, leaning his head back in pure paradise as he calls out my name. Once he's finished, he collapses on his side next to me, both of us completely out of winded.

"I should have come home sooner," he pants, turning my head to face him. He plants a passionate kiss on my lips, taking my bottom lip between his teeth.

"That's what I'm saying."

Once we've composed ourselves, he sits up and goes into the bathroom. I hear the bathtub running and a smile comes to my face. He appears again with a towel in his hand and gently helps me to wipe away the excess on my stomach. I give him a look and confirms my thoughts with the same one. 'We've never done it in the bath before,' I think to myself. Oh well, there's a first time for everything~

#exo #kim jongin #jongin #kai #exo kai #exo jongin #mature #fanfic #exo smut #exo fanfic #exo scenario

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damonbation · 5 years

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How to Create Reality

So a funny thing happened on Twitter this week, which almost changed the world a little bit.

Someone sent me a beautiful 3-D mockup of a fictional, car-free city of 50,000 people, set in the scenic nook of land* between Boulder, Colorado and Longmont, where I live. It came complete with street plans, detailed descriptions and dozens of cool photos, both real and computer-generated, showing how it would feel to live there. They called it Cyclocroft, in honor of the generally pro-bike stance of Mustachian culture.

This was not out of the blue: these plans came from some long-time readers, who have heard me muse about better cities in the past. Over the last few years, I have come to realize that the fastest way to get my fellow Americans into healthier, wealthier lives is probably just to change the way we lay out our living spaces. Instead of wasting trillions of dollars on separating and isolating ourselves just to accommodate giant racetracks for our gas-powered wheelchairs, we could make everything about 75% less expensive (and many times more fun) by making cities that work without cars.

So anyway, these architects sent me the plans, and I put them up on Twitter with a comment about how they’re fictional but boy wouldn’t this be a nice way to use a single square mile compared to what we do right now.

One square mile of suburban Detroit. Note the amount of space wasted on accommodating cars. Without the cars, you could house AND employ about 50,000 people with this much land.

I thought that would complete my social media indulgence for the day, but NO, things were just about to get interesting.

That night, an MMM reader who also happens to write for Forbes, wrote to me asking if he could do a story about Cyclocroft. He also pulled in the designers Tara and John from B4Place. And the next day, this rather racy article showed up in the news:

Whoa there, Forbes!

While the story was technically accurate, calling me a “Wealth Guru” instead of an “Early Retirement Blogger” definitely amped the intensity. And words like “Plans” and “has teamed up with” made it sound like things were very imminent and real, rather the just a set of pretty pictures I was happy to share.

But the world started to react as if Cyclocroft really were real. Twitter responses and emails started coming in from people who would buy properties and move there, if we really built it.

Even more notably, my email inbox and even the voice mail of my supposedly private mobile phone, started filling up with notes from news agencies and big players in finance and real estate, asking if they could do news stories and/or help get involved in building Cyclocroft.

Forbes – Wealth Guru Plans Dutch-Style Car-Free Bicycle-Friendly City Near Boulder, Colorado

Curbed – Could a car-free, Dutch-style city work in Colorado?

The Real Deal – Imagine a city with no cars, free bikes — and 50,000 people in one square mile

Boulder Daily Camera – Mr. Money Mustache has no formal plans to build dense, ‘car-lite’ city between Boulder, Longmont

The Chief Marketing Officer of the nation’s largest mortgage providers (who I was surprised to learn is also a longtime Mustachian) came to my coworking space and we talked for two hours about whether we could make it a reality. Because, aside from the potential to improve world through better design, residential housing is the world’s largest market, worth trillions of dollars.

Now, just in case you have any illusions about Mr. Money Mustache’s superpowers, it is important to remember the real story. I am a retired, stay-at-home Dad who occasionally types shit into the computer, and that’s the end of it. On the average week my biggest “business” meeting is a Tuesday morning workout in the back yard of the HQ for some squats or deadlifts with a friend or two.

Actual day of work. Does this look like a City Developing Wealth Guru to you?

Now, this Cyclocroft bonanza is still cause for celebration – all this attention and energy will definitely not got to waste. I really do plan nudge this country towards its rightful status as a Badass Utopia – it’s a lifelong project for me, and we are only about eight years in. It’s just that Starting a City right now does not play well with my other project of Raising a Boy, a contract which still has about five years left on it. I’m not a great multitasker so anything outside of that job has to be low-stakes and with complete flexibility.

But there’s still is a heck of a life lesson in this story, that can help all of us change our lives. It’s on par with the lessons of the Optimism Gun, and the Circle of Control.

The lesson is to Begin with the End in Mind – and Start by Painting a Beautiful Picture of that end destination.

It’s the technique at the core of the world’s best marketing and negotiation strategies, and it works so well because it short circuits the human brain into making everyone – including you – see things in the desired way.

I’ve known this for a long time, and applying it is the reason for most of the successes I’ve had in life so far. Yet I still sometimes get sloppy and fail to use it, and sure enough many of my failures can be tracked back to that sloppiness. Let’s check out a few examples of Painting the Picture in real life so you can see exactly how this works and how powerful it is.

When I started this blog in April of 2011, I didn’t just start rambling about interest rates or student loan debt. And I definitely didn’t mention carbon footprints or get into environmental guilt-tripping. The first sentence of the first post is “What do you mean you retired at 30?”

Retired. At. 30.

It was a simple picture of a very clear end destination that automatically got people’s imagination running and filling in their own details.

Everyone knows that a 30-year-old is a fairly young adult with lots of promising life ahead of them. And everyone knows that “Retired” must mean some unusual financial accomplishment was involved, which makes them imagine what their life would be like with that sort of money.

In retrospect, that marketing decision was the main thing that has made the MMM blog catch the attention of newspapers, which in turn brought in the readers, which in turn kept me motivated to keep writing it. So painting that initial picture was an amazingly big leverage point.

And Cyclocroft worked in exactly the same way. You’ve heard me harping almost daily about “live close to work and ride a bike”, but this produces only small changes in the world. You are still fighting the car-based design of your city, your car-loving spouse, and all of the excuses that pop up from looking at the small day-to-day picture.

But Tara and John bypassed all of those arguments by sharing a simple, beautiful picture of the end lifestyle, with just enough detail to provide a framework that got everyone’s imagination running.

Car-free city. Next to Boulder. 50,000 people.

People read these key points and see the pictures, and in their minds they are already nestled into this bucolic town in the Sunny Western US at the base of the Rocky Mountains. For most people, the sale is already made and now they are ready to hear the details – most importantly “How can I get you my money?!”

Once you go looking for this pattern, you see it everywhere, especially in the most successful bits of persuasion in the world.

Tesla almost completely took over the coveted luxury car market with no paid advertising, even while its competitors fought tooth and nail with their old ads, by painting a clean-slate picture: clean, beautiful, prestigious cars that are the fastest in the world. They were introduced to the world as if they were movie stars, rather than squeezed out through the crusty sphincter of an old corporate marketing department as most cars are. They can even make a commercial hauling appliance into a rockstar that has everyone waiting breathlessly for its world-changing arrival.

So How Can You Use This Amazing Power on Your Own Life?

We can see how this works by painting a few pictures of our own:

You want less money stress in your life:

Describe the picture of your ideal financial life. Your house is paid off, the kids are well cared-for, and you think about money no more than you think about tap water. It’s just there, so instead you spend your time figuring out how to get more fulfillment out of each day.

Then to get there, you suddenly feel the motivation to streamline your spending (and perhaps optimize your earning) today. It’s no sacrifice to skip over a car upgrade, if it rockets you towards this clear picture of your future life, right? And conversely, making the car upgrade is suddenly less appealing if it means you will be extending your time on Cubicle Lockdown by three more years and pushing off the beautiful picture you have painted for yourself.

You wish your spouse was on board with more frugal living:

You won’t get anywhere by nagging your partner she needs to take shorter showers or telling him to give up his Porsche convertible. The only hope of teamwork is to agree on the end goal: do you want financial freedom more than you want the Porsche, or not?

Well then, what does financial freedom look like? Perhaps it includes being able to stay home to raise children, or to have more time to travel together, or to pursue part-time meaningful work instead of full-time-just-because-I-need-the-money careers. Or something else you can both agree on. This article on Selling the Dream describes a case study where this method worked beautifully for a couple.

Once the dream is there, the daily steps that move you towards it become easy and obvious.

You want to earn your dream job

Rather than sucking up to the company or stepping through your individual qualifications and acronyms of all the programming languages you know, begin your campaign as though you’ve already won.

Describe (with beautiful pictures of your past work and future proposals if appropriate), the way that things will work, once you are working with the company. The ways you are excited to build the culture of the group you will be joining and managing, and why that is destined to influence the entire company over time. This vision of you excelling in this job needs to become a crystal clear anchor in the company manager’s mind, that lodges itself in as the way things are going to be. From there, it becomes difficult to dislodge.

These same principles work in both large and small situations, for persuading any range of people from just you up to the entire Human population. From getting into better physical shape to winning an election.

My own Failures to Paint the Picture

When I look at my own areas of less-than-satisfactory performance in recent years, they all carry the hallmark of scraping along from one daily hardship to the next, while neglecting the big picture.

My former wife and I did not keep our own marriage alive, and it may be partly because we didn’t think of what we wanted a good marriage to look like. We just reacted to the ongoing realities of daily life, doing more damage as time went on.

My son copes with some anxiety and can tend to be an extreme homebody, avoiding all new situations if not challenged to do otherwise. But if you work at it, you can get him out for adventures, and he always has a great time. And his Mom has shown much greater skill than me in making these things happen.

But far too often during our days together, I will make a few offers to go out and do things together, then give up and feel deflated when he rejects them. And I come back the next day and try the same thing, and I usually get the same result.

But if I paint the bigger picture well in advance – for example of a two-night camping trip with his favorite friends and their dads and kayaks and sand dunes – the chance of a breakthrough greatly increases.

The recipe for change is right here in front of all of our faces. It’s up to us if we are bold enough to paint the picture, and then do the work that will become obvious once that picture is hanging on the wall in front of us.

Okay, but When Do We Get To Move to Cyclocroft?

I am happy that this big, beautiful picture of the future of North American city planning is now out there, creating an anchor in the public mind that is bound to stick. That alone is an amazing accomplishment.

For my part, I’d love to help out in many ways. But at the same time, the picture I have painted for my own life does not involve being a property developer. I’ve done that on a small scale in the past and learned there are other people that thrive on the phone calls and meetings and contractor cat-herding much more than I do. So as much as I’d love the results, I’m not willing to do the work. And this is a great thing to know about myself, because chasing accomplishment and prestige and things that seem “important” is not necessarily the path to a happy life, if you don’t enjoy the work along the way.

But with the right group of people working together on the aspects they truly enjoy, it really could happen. Tara and John like designing spaces. I like describing things to the world, but also solving physical and engineering problems. You might like running a restaurant or a bike shop, or playing in a jazz trio. It takes all sorts of people to build a new city and change a culture, but as long as we are all working on the same end goal in mind, we will definitely get there.

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* Never mind that this particularchunk of beautiful land is currently a NOAA facility! The real point is that when you only need one square mile, you can fit a world-changing city almost anywhere, including into the corner of an existing large family farm.

from Money 101 http://www.mrmoneymustache.com/2019/02/27/how-to-create-reality/ via http://www.rssmix.com/

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andrewdburton · 5 years