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fandom, i love you. ♥ you've enriched my life in ways that other fandoms haven'; you've exposed me to a side of myself that laid dormant until i discovered a certain kpop group that shall remain nameless and encouraged that side in important ways, both big and small; you've helped me improve on everything from my writing to how i interact with others; even at your slowest or angriest, you're still there, and i couldn't ask for anything more than that, than what you've already given me.
let's make this meme a good one, guys! ♥
let's make this meme a good one, guys! ♥
how many people are planning on doing the meme long challenge?
does unniefic plan on having a challenge this weekend?
challenge challenge challenge! could some nice anon set up one, since it's a lot of us and we could give this meme a fresh start? :D
"Look, just quit it, alright, I'm done asking nicely."
The taller boy blinks. "Does it really bother you so much?"
Minho has really, really big eyes Kibum realizes, hands flying to his polyester mix hem. He plucks the loose thread taut and not, making a sort of clumsy rhythm and they stare at each other for a few seconds in the quiet backstage light before he decides, "Yes, yes it does."
Maybe it was the hesitation, maybe it was the way Minho was so much more of everything Kibum tried to be, but Minho didn't stop and Kibum couldn't stop him. Their kiss in the third scene of the second act, to be precise: a simple, three word stage direction with no strings attached that left Kibum freefalling into Minho's arms. He would press his lips in a tight line and Minho would smile his movie star smile and punch through Kibum's defenses until Kibum was sighing, making Minho think it was alright to say things like, "You like it, I heard you, you moaned. I felt it."
He says it with a small smirk, dangerously in character and Kibum is completely beside himself because Minho is blurring the lines until Kibum is furious enough to make threats.
"If you do it again, I'll bite your tongue."
The next night he feels a drop of sweat roll through the thick make up on the back of his neck before Minho's tongue, warm and small, curls into his mouth like an old friend and his teeth sink into it. He doesn't push Minho out though, he doesn't let him go, he just holds it there, frozen under the bright lights, panting with shuttered eyes and keeping Minho's tongue captive. Minho tastes like peppermint, then blood, a burst of copper between Kibum's lips before he's pulling free.
He stares at Kibum who smiles, the dimple in his cheek sharpening as he grins wider.
He bursts out laughing backstage.
He's still breathless when Minho gets three stitches in his tongue, and he's sold on the idea when he's laving it better with his own. Minho strolls out of the ER a marked man, Kibum giggling into the crook of his neck. The show is long over and the audience is home but really, it's all just beginning.
The taller boy blinks. "Does it really bother you so much?"
Minho has really, really big eyes Kibum realizes, hands flying to his polyester mix hem. He plucks the loose thread taut and not, making a sort of clumsy rhythm and they stare at each other for a few seconds in the quiet backstage light before he decides, "Yes, yes it does."
Maybe it was the hesitation, maybe it was the way Minho was so much more of everything Kibum tried to be, but Minho didn't stop and Kibum couldn't stop him. Their kiss in the third scene of the second act, to be precise: a simple, three word stage direction with no strings attached that left Kibum freefalling into Minho's arms. He would press his lips in a tight line and Minho would smile his movie star smile and punch through Kibum's defenses until Kibum was sighing, making Minho think it was alright to say things like, "You like it, I heard you, you moaned. I felt it."
He says it with a small smirk, dangerously in character and Kibum is completely beside himself because Minho is blurring the lines until Kibum is furious enough to make threats.
"If you do it again, I'll bite your tongue."
The next night he feels a drop of sweat roll through the thick make up on the back of his neck before Minho's tongue, warm and small, curls into his mouth like an old friend and his teeth sink into it. He doesn't push Minho out though, he doesn't let him go, he just holds it there, frozen under the bright lights, panting with shuttered eyes and keeping Minho's tongue captive. Minho tastes like peppermint, then blood, a burst of copper between Kibum's lips before he's pulling free.
He stares at Kibum who smiles, the dimple in his cheek sharpening as he grins wider.
He bursts out laughing backstage.
He's still breathless when Minho gets three stitches in his tongue, and he's sold on the idea when he's laving it better with his own. Minho strolls out of the ER a marked man, Kibum giggling into the crook of his neck. The show is long over and the audience is home but really, it's all just beginning.
idk if meme finds this stuff as interesting as i do, but one of my korean friends told me that in korean shops you can usually only find clothes in certain sizes for women--like a us xs-m, and for shoes a us women's 5-8. not because all korean people are those sizes, but because the korean social mindset is that everyone SHOULD BE that size, and maybe if they don't provide clothes for bigger people, no one will be bigger.
i think i remembered this bc of the anons talking abt leeteuk. like if he was socialized in a country that doesn't even (generally) make clothes for people larger than a certain size... it doesn't really surprise me that he's said sideye-worthy things about people who are "larger" than that typical view :(
i think i remembered this bc of the anons talking abt leeteuk. like if he was socialized in a country that doesn't even (generally) make clothes for people larger than a certain size... it doesn't really surprise me that he's said sideye-worthy things about people who are "larger" than that typical view :(
pictures
http://julieisrael.files.wordpress.com/2012/06/superheroes.jpg
http://talkingcamel.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/ace-of-spades-image-gif.jpeg
http://foter.com/img/photo/68/traffic-light-reworked_l.jpg
quotes
"You're not supposed to look back; you're supposed to keep going."
"I was born lost and take no pleasure in being found."
“But when the strong were too weak to hurt the weak, the weak had to be strong enough to leave.”
“Just because something is beautiful doesn´t mean it´s good.”
http://julieisrael.files.wordpress.com/2012/06/superheroes.jpg
http://talkingcamel.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/ace-of-spades-image-gif.jpeg
http://foter.com/img/photo/68/traffic-light-reworked_l.jpg
quotes
"You're not supposed to look back; you're supposed to keep going."
"I was born lost and take no pleasure in being found."
“But when the strong were too weak to hurt the weak, the weak had to be strong enough to leave.”
“Just because something is beautiful doesn´t mean it´s good.”
mod-nim, i tried to add a 15-minute challenge comment, but then it got marked as spam :|
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to celebrate the new meme location and the fact that i feel slightly less sick than i've felt lately, i will take requests for any femslash pairing or girl-centric gen! \o/
find a prompt on the meme long challenge page that interests. take 20 or so minutes to jot down some ideas for fic or why this prompt intrigued you.
come back to meme and share your ideas. you don't need to write actual fic right now if you don't want. just share your story ideas and then at the end of this part we can reconvene and see how our stories developed.
come back to meme and share your ideas. you don't need to write actual fic right now if you don't want. just share your story ideas and then at the end of this part we can reconvene and see how our stories developed.
lol there's an ad at the bottom of my page that says "visit spokane!" and i'm like why the fuck would you ever purposefully visit spokane...
my dad lived in spokane most of his life and now he only goes back there under pain of death hahaha
my dad lived in spokane most of his life and now he only goes back there under pain of death hahaha
does anyone know if there will be any unanoning for last part/meme somewhere?
challenge response:
"You're not supposed to look back; you're supposed to keep going."
Donghae-centric
Kyuhyun sleeps sprawled across Donghae’s bed when Donghae comes home, his limbs lie haphazardly and his head lolls close to the bedside cabinet next to the bed. He looks exhausted yet peaceful, even if he clenches the pillow with one hand and the duvets lie unwanted at his feet. His oversized t-shirt (Shindong’s, Donghae guesses) rides above him and there’s a small sliver of pale skin he can see, and a faint, jagged line, slightly darker than his skin.
Donghae throws his bag onto Leeteuk’s unmade bed and then reaches over Kyuhyun to get to the bedside cabinet on the other side. His elbow brushes Kyuhyun’s bare shoulder (-and there’s a screech of tyres on a sodden road, someone’s hand clenching his arms, fingers digging deeply into it and his heart dropping in his chest as he’s propelled forward and-)
Donghae blinks down at Kyuhyun, who shifted in his sleep. He looks serene, calmer than he normally did, the acne scars on his face thrown in sharp relief by the light shining in through the crack in the curtains, younger, even.
Donghae shrugs it off and pulls out a spare pair of socks from his wardrobe instead.
-
When Donghae sleeps, he has nightmares. When Donghae sleeps with someone, he doesn’t have nightmares and he’s planned out a rota so as to never be home alone.
-
When he was six and a half, he watched his next door neighbour die in a dream.
There was a large vehicle and a drunken man exhausted with life and there was no chance for her, really. She was elderly, gentle and quiet, used to wave at him from across the landing when he left to get ready for school, made patbingsoo for her neighbours in the summer when the sweltering summer heat meant everybody stayed indoors where air conditioning was possible.
In the dream, he doesn’t see the impact. He sees a long, blank stretch of road, her slowly making her way across it while the road got wider, the tarmac expanding to slowly fill his whole vision and the sound of a motor getting louder. Donghae doesn’t see the car coming, sees it only when it’s a few feet away from her, the driver crying, head down and eyes closed, and then he sees nothing but an explosion of colour, so bright that he jerks awake and screams and screams and screams. His father comes running in and his mother behind him. Donghwa steps into the room hesitantly after them. Donghae bursts into tears and his mother hugs him tightly.
-
Donghae presses his nose into the crook of Hyukjae’s neck and catches glimpses of long bus rides, Junsu and Sungmin tickling him until he was almost crying from holding his laughter in.
-
When he was seven, his neighbour dies.
“A car accident. Some suicidal idiot,” his father growled at breakfast. He looked tired. The kitchen was immaculately clean and his dark uniform stood in stark contrast with the brilliant white of the fridge. His eyes were puffy as he relayed the news from last night, when he had sent both boys to bed and insisted that while he could assist the police, neither of them would be any help.
Donghae’s mother merely looked tired. There were bags under her eyes, although nothing that made her look as though she had been crying. His mother was strong, the anchor in a sea of push-and-pull, a solid, warm statue with smile lines permanently etched onto her features, and Donghae still thought she was the most beautiful person in the world.
Donghae froze over his cereal and stares down into them. It was cheap cereal that had turned into a bland, creamy and tasteless mush, and he could hear the radio in the living room playing the soft country music that his father liked. He could barely breathe.
(this took considerably longer than 15 mins and is unfinished. uh, i'm going now but i would appreciate any crit. i'm so rusty at the moment orz)
"You're not supposed to look back; you're supposed to keep going."
Donghae-centric
Kyuhyun sleeps sprawled across Donghae’s bed when Donghae comes home, his limbs lie haphazardly and his head lolls close to the bedside cabinet next to the bed. He looks exhausted yet peaceful, even if he clenches the pillow with one hand and the duvets lie unwanted at his feet. His oversized t-shirt (Shindong’s, Donghae guesses) rides above him and there’s a small sliver of pale skin he can see, and a faint, jagged line, slightly darker than his skin.
Donghae throws his bag onto Leeteuk’s unmade bed and then reaches over Kyuhyun to get to the bedside cabinet on the other side. His elbow brushes Kyuhyun’s bare shoulder (-and there’s a screech of tyres on a sodden road, someone’s hand clenching his arms, fingers digging deeply into it and his heart dropping in his chest as he’s propelled forward and-)
Donghae blinks down at Kyuhyun, who shifted in his sleep. He looks serene, calmer than he normally did, the acne scars on his face thrown in sharp relief by the light shining in through the crack in the curtains, younger, even.
Donghae shrugs it off and pulls out a spare pair of socks from his wardrobe instead.
-
When Donghae sleeps, he has nightmares. When Donghae sleeps with someone, he doesn’t have nightmares and he’s planned out a rota so as to never be home alone.
-
When he was six and a half, he watched his next door neighbour die in a dream.
There was a large vehicle and a drunken man exhausted with life and there was no chance for her, really. She was elderly, gentle and quiet, used to wave at him from across the landing when he left to get ready for school, made patbingsoo for her neighbours in the summer when the sweltering summer heat meant everybody stayed indoors where air conditioning was possible.
In the dream, he doesn’t see the impact. He sees a long, blank stretch of road, her slowly making her way across it while the road got wider, the tarmac expanding to slowly fill his whole vision and the sound of a motor getting louder. Donghae doesn’t see the car coming, sees it only when it’s a few feet away from her, the driver crying, head down and eyes closed, and then he sees nothing but an explosion of colour, so bright that he jerks awake and screams and screams and screams. His father comes running in and his mother behind him. Donghwa steps into the room hesitantly after them. Donghae bursts into tears and his mother hugs him tightly.
-
Donghae presses his nose into the crook of Hyukjae’s neck and catches glimpses of long bus rides, Junsu and Sungmin tickling him until he was almost crying from holding his laughter in.
-
When he was seven, his neighbour dies.
“A car accident. Some suicidal idiot,” his father growled at breakfast. He looked tired. The kitchen was immaculately clean and his dark uniform stood in stark contrast with the brilliant white of the fridge. His eyes were puffy as he relayed the news from last night, when he had sent both boys to bed and insisted that while he could assist the police, neither of them would be any help.
Donghae’s mother merely looked tired. There were bags under her eyes, although nothing that made her look as though she had been crying. His mother was strong, the anchor in a sea of push-and-pull, a solid, warm statue with smile lines permanently etched onto her features, and Donghae still thought she was the most beautiful person in the world.
Donghae froze over his cereal and stares down into them. It was cheap cereal that had turned into a bland, creamy and tasteless mush, and he could hear the radio in the living room playing the soft country music that his father liked. He could barely breathe.
(this took considerably longer than 15 mins and is unfinished. uh, i'm going now but i would appreciate any crit. i'm so rusty at the moment orz)
http://i-am-the-real-noona.tumblr.com/post/26846200240/he-strikes-again-otl
(Anonymous) 2012-07-09 09:51 pm (UTC)(link)this child.
i had no idea there were so many fic comms. there are definitely more non group specific comms than i would have guessed
gyuri in this gif is giving me life. m2, girl. m2.
i'm not crying, you're crying :(
so are anons still interested in a reverse big bang? with playlists instead of art? i think it sounds really cool, but i don't know how it would work.
would it be like an exchange, where each person makes both a mix and a fic? or would you just claim a mix? would they be assigned? so many questions.
would it be like an exchange, where each person makes both a mix and a fic? or would you just claim a mix? would they be assigned? so many questions.
i thought we left lj not because of layout changes, but because of the really shifty policy alterations that suddenly came to light when lj had that complete overhaul :\ didn't we move to dw for privacy reasons?
okay not kpop, but why is there NO sakamichi no apollon fic in existence? :( i just mainlined all twelve eps and i need fic like burning
gdi is there a faster way to comment anon than 'more options' 'select anon' 'post comment' without having to log out (and then lose the most recent comments because lj is a shithole like that and doesn't show all the comments when you're not logged in)?
the mods opened a post at the dw site. couldn't we all just go use that? i know the vote on that poll was in favor of lj bit I want to go back to dw already
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