#But I feel like I wasted a really good palette tbh

[oatmealdoodles]

Got reminded of Nimona for this one

modified Huevember pallets by @sbeep

[clovenhoofedjester]

jellicle lineups; part 3/4

LETS GO PEOPLE!! LETS GO !! sorry for taking so long to get around to this one !

demeter | 🔒 🍰 🌇

DEETER

ive seen a lot of complaints about demeters design being toned down over the years so i decided to bring some of the bolder design choices back for mine. mullet demeter is REAL now ! honestly i couldve done more w/ their makeup but shhh its ok....

i tried to push the gold in their design by making the eyeshadow really obvious and giving them gold lips. enjoy their lacy dress too... i tried to design something which they could dance comfortably in

demeters newer 3 words (nervous, sensual, secretive) mean everything to me. love them so much. i think theyd be 29 in human years

bombalurina | 🌹 🍓 🛼

so i totally based her hair on that concept art for drag queen bomba. the bob is too cute ! i had a blast doing her design for the most part. i struggled w that makeup and the color of her dress but its ok.

i also tried to give her something she could dance in—just like. imagine the length of the dress a little shorter. im not going back and fixing it

i based her color palette/patterns directly on her concept art because tbh, i dont love blond/ginger bomba ! so black/white/red hair bomba it is

i think she would be 27 in human years

hysperia | 🪴 ⌚ 🍡

this is my version of exotica, renamed hysperia, because i do not love her og name. its not fun. the name hysperia is taken from an ensemble kitten character from the og london production

i also based her design on a multitude of things, asides from her 2 costumes in 98—like some nbq/greycat designs since i feel like that design not becoming a common ensemble character was a waste. A WASTE I TELL YOU! ive also based her fur length on warsaw victoria because oh my godddd that design is so good. peak

her neck bow is a nod to the 2019 movie... the macavity girls w/ those bow collars. they were onto something there

she would have a much more prominent role than the few times she cameo'd in 98, still retaining the elegant/shy personality she shows in the film. shed be 29 in human years

cassandra | 🪐 ♠️ 🥯

i originally made her makeup a lot closer to her replica designs but decided to go for something a little different based on a makeup look i saw on pinterest LOL. so like. enjoy her slight earthy gothic vibes. i also didnt struggled too much on her outfit since i came into this knowing that i wanted her to be wearing something formfitting and bejeweled. a little circus-y too

more people have got to play up her disdainfulness. she'd be 26 in human years

alonzo | 🎹 🍢 🎳

once again, another design pretty similar to his standard replica one. i just tried to make the black patch on his face a little greyer and with some white detailing. because tbh every alonzo with white mascara makes me go crazy its so cute

i also tried to make his head fur/bangs a little distinctive—inspired by a random pic from a production i dont know the name of

enjoy his little cute fit too. pinklonzo. pastelonzo

that one gif of him pantomiming eating a playing card IS canon to me. he'd be 28 in human years

munkustrap | 📼 🥧🎙

verrrry similar to standard replica munks makeup-wise ! however, fur wise.... say hi to mulletstrap. to manestrap. 2 me he is tuggers brother so he gets that. i have no justification for the mullet other than idk, looks good, is funny, and the oslo 1985 production was right to give him one. also he and demeter can match now

i do like when theyre seen as something of a prince... so say hi to the gothenburg and opera populaire-esque epaulettes. theyre cayoot. they also get warsaw munks Big Pant Vibes

give this man a break. hed be 30 in human years

macavity | 🔥 🥂 🎯

he was actually one of the first cats i made design notes for when i started hyperfixating on this musical like.... two months ago. i really tried to mix elements from a bunch of different designs 4 him.... and sorry yall hes a deut brother too. im predictable

the manginess, mane, more ginger-y head fur, tugger-ness and the mouth markings from the 2016 revival... the big big hair, white fur and general makeup from his replica design... and the stylings of il sistina mac with the fitted coat. he also gets unique eyelashes like tugger—this time white instead of gold. he also gets that ominous magic cat eye shading

i think he would act a lot like 2019 mac... suave. but also not as dorky and desperate as he is in that movie LOL. he'd be 33 in human years

ONLY ONE MORE LEFT..... THE OLDIES........ MAYBE... I MIGHT MAKE DESIGNS FOR SOME OF THE SWINGS TOO LOL

[fadebolt]

Personal room ranking:

1 - Sky Islands: C05 (9/10) 2 - Outskirts: B02 (9/10) 3 - Undergrowth: C01 (8/10) 4 - Metropolis: downwards (8/10) 5 - Subterranean: C07 (7/10) 6 - Garbage Wastes: TOWER14 (6/10) 7 - The Rot: H01 (5/10) 8 - Outer Expanse: BROKENDRAIN (5/10) 9 - Shoreline: WALL05 (4/10) 10 - The Rot: A01 (4/10)

Extra comment: Yup, I'm voting for a Sky Islands room. This one's just so neat and creative that I honestly feel like it deserves it. (Plus, look closer - how many botomless pits do you see there? The answer does indeed play a huge part in why I like this thing)

For the rooms that we'll be covering today, we've got some from our favorite plant filled regions - starting with BROKENDRAIN from OE. Well, yeeeaaahhh, this one's really nothing special. I mean, if this was the only room that had this sort of tall tower-y layout with water at the bottom, then sure, I'd value it quite a lot. But this region has a rather high number of them, and this particular one really doesn't do enough to set itself apart from the rest. It's not awful, and it does have some neat details, like the water pouring out from the entrance pipe, or the purple symbols on the side. But things like that won't carry a room, unfortunately.

However, this poll does still contain a good array of unique rooms, one of the most notable examples being C01. Honestly, I really wasn't expecting this one to perform the best, but I frankly don't mind that at all. The visual design of this thing is quite exceptional, even by Rain World standards. But the gameplay works well too, as climbing upwards is quite fun, and the Pole Plants were admittedly, a pretty smart thing to add. The original version of this room doesn't have any, so players won't be expecting them, but careful ones with keen eyes will be able to tell that "Wait a minute, those poles aren't supposed to be here!", thus they will be rewarded for consistently inspecting their surroundings, and always keeping their guards up. It's just good design, and I'm glad to see that it's getting appreciation.

Now, for the bonus rooms, we've got some pretty wild ones. The first being C10 from Subterranean.

Well what can I say, it sure is a maze-y Filtration System room. This one is sort of special thanks to its little Pole Plant/Monster Kelp section to the left, which never fails to spook a traversing Slugcat that doesn't expect enemies like this in such an area. Outside of that, it holds up fine. The spawns are generally fair, and the layout is alright as well. This one gets the 7/10 seal of approval from me.

And for last one of today, we got C05 from the Past Garbage Wastes. It's kind of funny that I missed this one, because fittingly, I don't really use it. I know many players love to go towards this direction when they start out as Artificer, and I'll never understand why. It is so obviously not where the game is wanting you to go, and it makes your route a whole lot more complicated, whereas the other way quickly gets you to Shaded Citadel, which would grant you immediate access to both The Exterior and Waterfront Facility. Eh, whatever, the room itself is decent, but I do also find it funny that it didn't get enough votes to progress. Maybe the whole 'Arti goes left' thing is just a YouTuber/Streamer/content creator obsession? (Though both Lunan and BobtheGuy has made it work in surprisingly few attempts, so I can't really blame 'em, tbh)

If we ignore all that, I do think the layout of this one is solid, it was a great background in that rightside area, and I like the color palette of this one more, than the present one's. It also gives you a great spot where you can throw bombs at the toll from, without putting yourself in danger (which I definitely didn't abuse to commit warcrimes when I needed kill points in Expedition), which ends up putting it into the lower parts of 8/10. It is a great room, I just don't think you should be using it much.

Pick Your Favorite Rain World Room, Day 213 R2

This is not single elimination! Every room with at least 15.0% vote will move on to the next round.

There is a hidden slugcat in one of the rooms (they can be in any color). If u can see it comment or reblog with where they are and if u are first, u get a cookie!

Credit for game screenshots goes to: Rain World Interactive Map, Rain World Wiki and me

Congratulations for day 212 winners!

[215-luv]

i saw u were taking requests so i thought of one! atsumu and suna with an artist s/o 🥺 i think it would be so cute ngl

okie dokie that’s all have a great day/night luv 💗💗

ATSUMU AND SUNA WITH AN ARTIST S/O

i got you my love!! thank you so much for requesting!! (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

MIYA ATSUMU

being in a relationship with this cutie for over two years was the best thing that happened in your life

through your experiences with each others’ presence, atsumu knew the pros and cons of you being an artist

he knows everything about artist block, highlights, volumes, every detail being added in a painting - and that’s because he’s always watching you paint all day

it’s also a surprise he doesn’t get bored when he watches you sketch and add color to every plain canvas, bc even osamu is kinda shocked about it

^^and that little thing right there is an obvious factor that atsumu really, really, loves you more than anything

whenever you have an art exhibit or you’d have to bring some of your art to school for a project, atsumu will insist he’ll carry all those for you

and omg, when you ask him to fill the last small space in your canvas he’ll get nervous n excited!!!

^once he finishes the job, you compliment him saying how amazing he’s doing and he gets so giddy :(( he’s so proud bb

after that occurrence he alr feels like leonardo da vinci

also brags about your paintings to everyone

like suna and osamu were studying together, all serious mode and atsumu suddenly steps in and is like “hey did you see the thing i carried a while ago? it was actually y/n’s painting! they’re really amazing, aren’t they???!!”

“must be a waste to know you’re their boyfriend..”

“SHUT UP WTF”

atsumu is a really loving and supportive boyfriend to his artist s/o!! he’ll be so surprised by everything you make and will absolutely attend every art exhibition you have <3

SUNA RINTARŌ

he’s pretty smiliar to atsumu, he knows everything about what you do and how you sometimes get artist block

and what does he do? suna cuddles you to get the artist block out of you and it actually works!!

whenever you paint he hugs you from behind while encircling his arms around your waist

^when he does that he either sleeps on your shoulder or watches you fill the plain canvas with color

he’s amazed tbh, and you know he gives honest opinions so it also became a habit for you to share your next imagery for your painting and suna will tell you his thoughts about it

not that he’s too lazy to paint, but he prefers entertaining himself by watching you paint

he will also picture every single canvas you’ve painted and save it in his photos omg - one time he made one of your creations his wallpaper and he hasn’t change it eversince

he compliments your paintings when you show him the finished product but he’ll never forget about complimenting you next,,,

“that’s really pretty.. but you’re even more prettier”

one time he was randomly scrolling through his gallery during practice and kita was seated beside him

the captain noticed the displayed picture of several paintings and asks if you were the one who made them

when suna confirmed, he subconsciously starts talking about all the stuff you’ve done and the story behind it. he doesn’t even realize he’s talking too much

but thats okay!! kita is as interested as him and also takes it down how inlove suna is with you

also!! suna will help you clean up your brushes and palette :(( he doesn’t really mind, because he knows how unmotivating it is to clean after your mess

and so he makes things easier by helping you!!

when you’re doing freestyle art you ask him to help you and he happily complies

it’s a little bit of a surprise how he’s good at this stuff because you notice how his hand is really stable when it comes to adding small portions of paint

doesn’t care when he gets paint on his shirt, he can see yours staining with the same paint as his too and he says you’re wearing couple shirts

suna is very supportive of you just like anyone in inarizaki would to be honest! i guarantee he will never fail to make your ideas and thoughts come true through your art exquisitely!!

[snackhobi]

pairing: yoongi x reader // word count: 15.8k // genre: smut

summary: your idea of a good night certainly doesn't involve being stood up by yet another blind date and finding yourself alone in a fancy bar; fortunately for you, there's an attractive man playing the piano to keep you busy, instead.

warnings: sexually explicit content (NSFW), cursing, minor consumption of alcohol, oral (m and f receiving), protected sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, pet names, slight exhibitionism, slight praise kink, light dom/sub undertones if you squint ig (reader is kind of subby)

– –

Throughout the years of your life, you've learned a few things. Some of them are pretty obvious (buying suspiciously cheap sushi from a petrol station is like playing Russian Roulette with food poisoning and diarrhoea), some of them are less so (just because something is 'on sale' doesn't actually mean that it's cheaper if they'd increased the overall price beforehand), but one thing that you're only just starting to learn is that— for all that Jimin says otherwise— blind dates will always stand you up.

jiminnie is he there yet??

you to my entire lack of surprise, no. i'm starting to wonder if this 'hoseok-hyung' of yours even exists tbh i should have been suspicious from the second you called him a 'friend' bc that implies that you HAVE friends

jiminnie ok RUDE. we're friends??

you suddenly i can't read

The two of you had been outrageously drunk after a night out on the town, once, and Jungkook had come to collect his tipsy boyfriend, and you'd seen the fond way he'd watched Jimin despite his messy behaviour— how he'd given Jimin a piggyback even though it must have been hard with the way Jimin had been squirming and laughing and kicking his legs back and forth— and your heart had squeezed tight in your chest. (You'd been so drunk.)

It had honestly been a slip of the tongue when you'd revealed to Jimin that you were kind of maybe feeling somewhat lonely, a little bit, potentially. You'd had one night stands and short flings but it's been a long time since you've been in an actual relationship, a long time since you've really clicked with someone. Maybe part of you had been missing it, that connection with another person. Normally you're fine with being single, but Jungkook and Jimin are so in love that it spills out from them and you guess in the moment you'd wanted to feel that, too.

You blame the alcohol. You also blame your own loose lips. And Jimin, you blame him too, for persuading you to go clubbing in the first place. You don't even remember what you'd said, waking up with a headache the weight and size of a tectonic plate, groaning at the pain of the morning light stabbing into your eyes, but with no recollection of your admittance that maybe you were tired of being single. Your best friend, however— despite having drunk more than you— could recall the previous night with crystalline clarity, much to your horror and embarrassment. And, because Jimin is Jimin, he'd latched onto what you'd said with the tenacity of a dog with a bone.

Fast forward to where you're sitting now, on yet another arranged date that he's planned for you— and once again, you've been stood up.

you i'm starting to wonder if any of the people you've tried to set me up with are even real

jiminnie omg they ARE you had a nice time with lisa??

Okay, so you hadn't been stood up for every date. Lisa had been the only person who'd shown up, and she was cute and friendly and you got on like a house on fire, but you'd very quickly found out that she was actually head over heels for her best friend Jennie. You being you, your first date had rapidly turned into you giving your new friend a pep-talk and hyping her up— and suffice to say you've been having weekly girl's brunches with Lisa and her now-girlfriend Jennie ever since. So, yes, technically you haven't been stood up every time, but still.

you yes, my ideal first date involves telling the other person that their best friend is definitely in love with them too :))

jiminnie I'VE ALREADY SAID THAT I'M SORRY :(

you LMAO it's fine, it's always nice to make friends but seriously minnie, like,, if your friends are going to stand me up, could you at least have had the decency to organise the date somewhere less fancy? i spent ages getting ready and noah fence it kind of feels like i just wasted a bunch of my time,,

Jimin doesn't fuck around. From the outside the bar, Dionysus, exudes a quiet aura of exclusivity. Inside, however, it has a surprisingly understated atmosphere despite its namesake being the Grecian god of Getting Turnt, the sleek interior paired with soft lighting and stylish fixtures, elegant. 

Either way, it's the kind of place that warrants you actually pulling out the stops with your outfit and makeup; you rarely have a reason to doll yourself up like this and it makes a nice change of pace, but it seems like you shouldn't have bothered. What's the point in putting on a cute dress and nice heels, or doing your hair and opening your expensive Too Faced eyeshadow palette for the first time, if you're just going to be sitting alone at a bar all night? At least you don't stick out, which is good, you guess.

You are the only person who's alone, though. It's midweek and everyone else is seated around one of the tables, couples and groups that are engaged in quiet discussion or watching the show— there's a small stage where there's a quartet performing live music— but you're perched on one of the barstools, tapping away at your phone, alone. If anyone were to pay any attention it would be obvious that you've been stood up, but they're all too busy having an enjoyable evening to spare a glance at the girl sitting by herself at the bar.

The only person who's paying attention to you is the bartender. He's clearly good at his job, keeping an eye on you and making you feel welcome without seeming like he's hovering; he doesn't act like you're being an inconvenience, but you give him a hefty tip each time you order a new drink anyway. Hoseok might not be turning up tonight but if you've gone to the effort of dressing this nicely and getting a taxi here then goddamn you're going to make the most of it.

It takes forty two minutes and three virgin cocktails before the handsome bartender speaks to you, saying something beyond the customary back and forth you've had so far as he hands you your next mocktail. 

"Are your friends usually this late?"

You let out a little huff of laughter. "Something like that." Normally you'd be more hesitant to speak to a stranger like this, but the bartender's eyes are warm and his smile seems genuine and from what you can tell, he's just making that sure you're okay. "Seems like it'll just be me for tonight."

"You're welcome to stay and wait as long as you like," he says, and you can't help but quirk a grin at him.

"I bet you say that to all the paying customers."

He laughs and raises his hands in surrender. "You got me." And then: "If you want another drink, just give me a shout. I'm Seokjin, but everyone calls me Jin."

"As in, Jin and tonic?" You smile. "Sure. I'll be sure to remember that. I'm Y/n."

"Nice to meet you, Y/n." Jin gives you a grin before disappearing down the other side of the bar to make drinks for some other customers. Your own smile slowly fades, and then turns into a frown, eyes landing on the clock on the wall; Hoseok is forty five minutes late at this point. (You know he's not going to show.) It's been so long that the musicians on the stage have finished their set and are leaving, a different performer about to step on, and you sigh. You'll finish this last drink and then you'll go.

You use your straw to stir the mint leaves and ice cubes around, muddling the flavours in your glass. You haven't really been paying attention to the music before now; you couldn't name the songs that have been performed so far, but they're common enough that you'd recognised the sound of them, the sort of music that most people could hum along to but probably wouldn't know the origin of. Easy listening. Pleasant, but nothing new. It's clearly more about setting a nice backdrop to the bar rather than music for music's sake. A background noise, rather than acting as the focal point of the bar.

You assume this is going to be the case for the next musician, and so you barely pay any mind as the he takes to the stage alone; you're looking down at your glass as he sits at the piano and puts his feet on the pedals and places his hands on the keys, but then, he starts to play.

Your eyes snap up. A chord hangs in the air, extended, haunting; a crescendo into a light melody; the chords dip, waters dark and deep while he weaves the higher notes with infinite softness, ebbing notes that fade into each other, his fingers dancing across the keys with grace and ease. You notice with a throb in your chest that he has no sheet music. He's pulling this music from inside him, his mind, entirely from his own memory.

His eyes are cast down as he watches his hands, but you can see how they slip shut whenever he tilts his head back, fringe hanging over them. His hair is bleached blond but he clearly hasn't been maintaining the look, with dark roots starting to show through. His posture is horrible, his spine a little curved as he slouches forward, and he's not dressed as sharply as the other musicians had been— there's no tie around his neck and he has a multitude of earrings in, rings on his fingers, changing his outfit into something a little messy and different and entirely unique.

He's fucking breathtaking.

Without realising, you've swivelled away from the bar to watch him. Your drink is still clutched in your hand but you pay it no mind, condensation gathering on the cold glass and dripping down your fingers the longer you sit there, ice cubes melting as he finishes his first song and moves onto the next. Same as the first, you don't recognise it, the melody echoing deep in your chest, speaking of some feeling that you can't put a name to, each sliding arpeggio and chord reaching inside you and hanging there, little glowing droplets that shine out like moonlight.

Each of his pieces are entirely different and yet they all feel like him, somehow. Strong and soft and lovely and aching. The water from your glass has pitter-pattered onto your lap, darkening the fabric of your dress in some nameless constellation, but you don't notice. Your world has narrowed down to: the sound of his music, the motions of his hands, the way he bends into the notes, him. 

Your eyes trace his profile, the cat-like eyes, the round of his nose, the pout of his lips, falling into the way he lifts his chin and tilts his head; thoughtless, gorgeous.

You don't realise that it's over until it's over. The final notes hang in the air, crystallising, and then they fade. He finishes with little fanfare, tilting a polite nod at the audience that claps for him, and then he slips off the stage and is gone just as quickly as he had come. You blink, coming back to yourself; you feel like you're rising out of deep water, motions slow and heavy, and you don't know how long you've been sitting there, entirely entranced. You'd been too distracted to clap. You'd just sat and watched in silence as he'd turned to leave, barely sparing the room a glance.

"Good, isn't he?"

Normally you would have startled at Jin's sudden appearance. Instead you just blink again, still trying to shake off the daze you've found yourself in. "Yeah." Your voice is hoarse. You clear your throat and suck in a breath and put your drink down, dripping wetness that leaves a ring on the smooth wood of the bar, and try to speak normally this time, willing your voice to be level. "Yes. He's very good."

"Yoongi is here at the same time every week," Jin supplies, tone conversational, like he's just having a regular chat. Yoongi. His name is Yoongi. You wonder if Jin can hear how your heart is pounding, the galloping hooves of a wild horse that tumble in your chest. You try to keep your expression stoic as you look at him, scared that he'll be able to read what's written across your face— but he's smiling at you in the same way as before. Just a barkeeper who's trying to get a return customer. (Although, you'd swear there was a glint in his eye for the briefest moment, but then it's gone.) "He changes the set each time, if you're interested in coming back to hear something new."

Your mouth feels dry and you swallow, trying to wet your lips. Dionysus is too fancy of a place to ask customers for tips for the musicians, but— "Can I buy him a drink?"

Jin cocks his head at you. "A drink? For Yoongi?"

"Yes," you say. You feel a little shy when you spot his expression, biting your lip. "I just really enjoyed the music, and I'd like to tip him somehow? Is that a normal thing that people do?"

Jin pauses, and then smiles. This smile is a little wider than the ones he's given you before, different, but he seems pleased. "Who cares about what's normal? I'll get a drink to him. What would you like?"

"Um, whatever he prefers," you say. You figure that Jin would have a better idea about what that is than you, which is proven true by his almost instantaneous reply.

"He likes red wine, or whisky, neat. I think tonight is a whisky kind of night." He's already going through the motions of putting the drink together, and you slide him money as he begins to pour. You know nothing about Yoongi but you can't help but feel like the drink suits him— simple, classic, masculine. "Do you want me to pass on a message for you?"

"Um, you can just say that it's from someone who enjoyed the music, I guess?" You giggle a little, feeling awkward and off balance. Jin is looking at you like he's expecting you to say something else, but you just want to express your enjoyment of Yoongi's music and nothing more. You don't— you don't want to be weird, you just like the sound of his piano playing.

Jin disappears into the back with the glass of whisky, and you finish the watery remnants of your drink before you leave, ice cubes completely melted in the— wow— forty minutes that Yoongi had been playing. It hadn't felt that long at all.

It's not until you're stepping through your front door that you realise you haven't looked at your phone since before the beginning of Yoongi's set. Jimin's messages have been changing from apologetic to concerned to downright frantic.

jiminnie Y/N BLINK TWICE IF YOU NEED HELP

you how many times should i blink if i don't need help?

jiminnie omg you're ALIVE where were you?? i was starting to get worried

you sorry i got distracted! but i'm fine, i'm at home hoseok never showed

jiminnie yeah i know :(( he messaged me saying he had an emergency and couldn't make it tonight but he's free this weekend??

you … remember when i said that this was the last blind date i was going to go on?

jiminnie it doesn't count as a date if hyung never turned up!!!

you that isn't true and you know it omg minnie… i appreciate what you're trying to do but pls bb. let it rest

jiminnie i just want you to be happy :((

you i don't have to be in a relationship to be happy

jiminnie you said you were lonely!

you omg i was DRUNK let it GO besides being stood up by multiple blind dates isn't going to help me feel less lonely lmao i get that you're happy in your relationship with kookie and you want to spread that happiness but you don't have to!! i'm fine!! yeah i get lonely sometimes but what single person doesn't?? i'm happy being by myself hhhhh

jiminnie fine :(( but if you change your mind, hobi-hyung would still love to meet you!

As you kick off your heels, humming a bar of Yoongi's music to yourself, you think that Hoseok probably shouldn't bother holding his breath.

(That night, when you sleep, you dream of dark eyes and the press of a sinfully perfect cupid's bow against your own lips, a pair of large hands drawing noises from you like a glissando, rings cool against your heated skin.)

–

Wednesday nights become a ritual of sorts. You get dressed, do your hair, match your makeup to your outfit and shoes, coordinating your look into something that doesn't look out of place in Dionysus before you hop into a taxi and make your way to the bar.

You're a firm regular by now. Your seat has become just that, your seat, the same one you'd been sitting in the first time you'd been there; it's towards the dimmer lights at the back and so you're sitting further away from the stage than you might like, but at least you can see the whole room from here. You turn up twenty minutes before Yoongi's set and Jin always greets you warmly when he sees you: you've quickly come to enjoy your chats. Jin is always unashamedly himself and the two of you joke and laugh as he works, but he always knows to leave you alone as soon as Yoongi steps onto the stage. 

For the next forty minutes the rest of the world fades away as you drink Yoongi and his music in, listen to the lilting notes he coaxes out of the piano, watch how his fingers rest on each key before he slides into his next piece, reverent.

You never ever explicitly mention Yoongi in your conversations with Jin, though. The bartender seems to bring the musician up anyway; he does it smoothly, in a way that's utterly casual, and he seems to know a surprising amount about someone who is, by all accounts, a very private person. (You're not complaining about the fact that you now know that Yoongi wears Kumamon slippers because his feet get cold easily— "he's cold blooded, like a lizard," apparently— but you do wonder how Jin knows that.)

The Yoongi that Jin describes is just as beautiful as the man you see on stage, but less mysterious, less distant— and yet he still intimidates you. 

Jin might be his friend but to you Yoongi is unapproachable. Untouchable. To him you're just a nameless face in the audience, nothing more. His eyes will slide across the room before he starts his performance, but he never seems to notice you; it's no surprise, sitting where you do, in an area of relative darkness in comparison to the rest of the bar, and once he sits down he only looks at the piano under his hands. He has no eyes for anything else. You're far enough away and his lashes are cast so low that even when his eyes are open it's hard for you to see where he's looking, and the shadow of his fringe hides how his pupils scan his hands as he plays, anyway.

Every week, when the set draws to a close, Jin is already pouring Yoongi's whisky or wine and you slide him the exact amount of change. Every week, Jin asks if you want to pass on a message, and every week, you say the same thing: that it's from someone who enjoyed the music. And that's that. Jin will disappear to give Yoongi his drink and you'll finish your own drink in quiet solitude before you slide off your barstool to go home.

(The only thing that's changed over the weeks is that the music Yoongi plays seems to be a little lighter and— dare you say— happier? He still looks down at the piano with the same intensity, still lays his hands on the keys with the same delicate pressing weight before he begins to play— but with some songs he seems to be teasing the music out, flirting with each note, eyelashes fluttering as he lifts his chin and moves his hands.

You're not a musician by any means, so you don't know how to describe it with any sort of accuracy or terminology, but to you it's like the deep waters of Yoongi's music have been cut through with light, beams of sun rippling through the dark blue. You don't know what's caused this change, the slow uplift in his mood throughout the weeks, but you hope he manages to keep hold of it, whatever it is.)

Between work and studying and volunteering and making time to see friends, you don't often have time entirely to yourself, and so Wednesday nights are a rare moment of peace during your otherwise busy week. That's why when Jimin says that he's had to rearrange your weekly film night to Wednesday— because he and Jungkook are going down to Busan to see each other's families this weekend— you decline. 

Jimin is rendered speechless and demands to know why.

"I'm busy," is your answer. Jimin doesn't buy it.

"You're never too busy for movie night," he says. "Wednesday is the only night we're all free."

"Well, I'm not free, Minnie. Sorry," you say. His head is in your lap, your fingers gently stroking his hair, and you can easily see the way his face contorts with disbelief as he stares up at you.

"Do you hear that, babe? Y/n is too busy for our weekly tradition." Jimin sounds scandalised.

Jimin is stretched out between the two of you— while his head is in your lap, his feet are in Jungkook's, the younger man idly massaging his boyfriend's ankles and feet. "Yes, babe, I heard," Jungkook says, indulgent.

"What's more important than movie night?" Jimin lifts one of his legs and Jungkook turns his attention to that one, digging his fingers into the arch of Jimin's foot. Jimin sighs in relief, but then turns the full force of his stare back at you. "We were going to watch Spirited Away. You love Spirited Away."

"I'm just busy," you say, and that had been your mistake. You should have had some sort of credible reason but you hadn't been prepared, and while he hadn't made it obvious at the time, Jimin had latched onto your vague excuse, sniffing out weakness like a shark with blood in the water. If you'd been paying attention you'd have noticed, but you hadn't paid attention and so you hadn't noticed. (Whoops.)

And so, Wednesday night that week is the same as always; Yoongi plays his music, you fall a little bit more in love, and pass your compliments to him with Jin as the mouthpiece. You go home, wash your makeup off, and arch into the touch of your own hand while imagining it's someone else's fingers sliding across your skin. Routine. Normal. Uninterrupted. Peaceful.

The next week, however, it all goes to shit.

Okay. Maybe that's a little dramatic. It's not as bad as all that. The night starts as normal: you're on your stool, and you have your drink, and you have ten minutes until Yoongi is due to play, shifting to get comfortable, crossing your legs.

But then: 

"Oh my God, you're wearing your come fuck me heels," comes Jimin's voice from behind you, and your blood turns to ice.

You turn on the barstool so fast you almost fall off it. You come face to face with Jimin who has an expression of what can only be described as sheer delight on his face. He's even dressed appropriately for the bar, a silk shirt tucked into his Very Tight jeans and a subtle smoky eye to top it off; Jungkook looks nice, too, but you have no doubt that he's only here under sufferance, if the infinitely apologetic look on his face is anything to go by.

"Jimin?" Your voice comes out as a hiss. If you were a cat your back would be up and your hackles would be raised and all your fur would be on end, your entire body going into fight mode. "What are you doing here?"

"I had to see for myself what was more important than movie night," Jimin says simply, like it's obvious. "So here we are."

"Sorry, Y/n," Jungkook apologises from over his boyfriend's shoulder. Jimin ignores him.

You can feel how your face is starting to flush, your skin crawling with embarrassment. You change your outfit every week and your friends have managed to turn up on the one week where you've cycled into what could probably be considered your most promiscuous one, the hem of your dress high and the cut of it low, along with shoes that Jimin had rightfully named as your Come Fuck Me heels. It wasn't because you were trying to seduce anyone but you only have so many items in your wardrobe that are appropriate for Dionysus. 

"How did you find me?"

"I have my ways," Jimin says mysteriously.

"He stalked your Bitmoji on Snapchat. Ow." Jungkook pouts as Jimin slaps his arm. "Sorry, again. I said we should leave you alone but Jimin said we should check in case you'd been kidnapped because you never willingly go into bars."

You're interrupted by Jin, who'd been busy serving someone when your idiot friends had turned up; he leans across the bar and touches your shoulder and fixes Jimin and Jungkook with the most intimidating look you've ever seen on his face. You know Jin as a light-hearted pun master, harmless and goofy and approachable, a great friend— but right now he looks like some sort of beautiful guardian angel, broad shouldered and narrow eyed and honestly, pretty menacing. 

"Are you alright?" He keeps his eyes on the other two men as he speaks. "Are these guys bothering you?"

Jimin, rather than looking cowed, looks like he's reached a stage of absolute euphoria, eyes darting between Jin's hand on your shoulder to your face. Jungkook's face, meanwhile, is doing that thing it does whenever someone issues him some kind of challenge, his sweetness abruptly being swallowed by his competitive side and his stubborn refusal to lose anything. You're the only person who has the power to save this situation before it goes absolutely tits up, and you swallow down a resigned sigh.

"I'm fine, thank you, Jin," you say, looking at him with a smile as you pat the hand on your shoulder. "Unfortunately these guys are my friends, much to my infinite suffering. Well, Jungkook's alright. Jimin is the one who's the pain."

"Hey," Jimin whines. Jungkook looks quietly pleased, but pretends to scowl when Jimin looks at him, offended on his boyfriend's behalf.

Jin still seems unhappy but pulls his hand back. "Alright," he says, but then he pitches his voice low so that only you can hear: "If you need any help, just ask me for a rum and soda, okay?"

You always order mocktails whenever you're here, wanting to stay completely sober so that you can enjoy Yoongi's playing with all the attention it deserves. You've never asked for anything alcoholic, least of all a rum and soda. Although you really are okay, you can't help but be warmed by Jin's concern for you and how he's offering you this careful, considerate lifeline in case you need it. "I will do. Thanks, Jinnie."

He smiles at you and then gives Jungkook and Jimin one final frown before going to deal with a gaggle of customers who've gathered at the other end of the bar. While Jungkook remains standing, taking in the interior of the bar with wide eyes, Jimin slides onto the stool next to yours.

"He's fucking hot," Jimin says with no preamble, eyeing Jin without shame as the bartender starts to pour and mix different drinks. Jungkook makes a disgruntled noise but settles when Jimin pats him fondly on the butt. "I'm not surprised you're wearing those heels. I would too if I were you."

"Oh my God, Jimin." You hide your face in your hands. "Jin is just a friend, please don't make this weird."

"Come on, Y/n, it's okay," Jimin says reassuringly as he pats your shoulder, replacing Jin's touch with his own. "The blind dates might not have worked out, but you've met someone nice so that's good! I mean, you did meet him because I organised the date here in the first place, but I'll let that slide. Also I can't believe you missed movie night because of a boy and you didn't tell me, but I'll let that slide too because I love you."

Park Jimin is your best friend. Park Jimin meddles in your life despite your protestations and isn't beyond being passive aggressive to get his way, but Park Jimin is also one of the nicest people you know and everything he does is because he loves you and will do whatever he thinks is necessary to reach his end goal of making you happy. He's magnanimous and kind and caring, and he also has absolutely the wrong idea right now, clearly under the impression that you're attracted to Seokjin and have been flirting with him for however many weeks it's been since you were meant to meet Hoseok here.

"No, seriously, Jimin, it's not Jin." You look at Jimin through the gaps in your fingers. "He's cute, yeah, but I don't come here because of him."

Your friend looks genuinely baffled, hand stilling on your shoulder. "Then why are you here?"

And, with perfect timing— as if your life is some badly written film or romantic drama— the clock ticks over to 8pm and Yoongi steps onto the stage. His hair is dark, blond replaced with black a few weeks ago, though it's still long enough that it hangs in his eyes; he looks a little ragged around the edges, a little messy, a little tired, and altogether beautiful. You want to touch the coolness of your fingertips to the dark circles under his eyes, want to press kisses across each of his bony knuckles, want to let your tongue settle in the hollow of his neck that shows each time he leans back and tilts his head up just so.

You hadn't even meant to but you'd turned away from Jimin the second you'd heard piano notes begin to play, drawn in by the sound like a moth to a flame. Jimin's hand falls off your shoulder and you hear him breathe out a quiet oh of realisation. You tear your eyes away from the sight of Yoongi at the piano and turn on your stool to face the bar again, gripping your glass with both hands, shoulders hunched.

"I like to watch him play," you say, and your voice is near a whisper, so as not to detract from the music.

"It's beautiful," Jungkook says, speaking before Jimin can say anything. His voice is quiet, too, not wanting to break over the sound of the piano. 

And so you hear with absolute clarity as Yoongi shifts mid-song into something different and it startles you. Yoongi always varies his music, always has something new, but you've been here often enough that you had recognised the opening song— it was one of your favourites— and you know that he's cut himself off before finishing, soft melody jumping into the opening bars of something different, sharper, a little angry, maybe sorrowful. Something that pulls at you and demands your attention.

Of course you give it to him. You swing your head away from your drink to watch him once more, watch how his motions have changed, the way he surges forward and presses his weight into his arms and down into his hands, his fingertips, the keys. You turn your entire body at this point, settling in your usual position for when you watch Yoongi; you see how his head tilts and he shifts from a minor into a major key, the same notes and chords transformed from something pensive into something joyful as he leans away from the heavier hands he'd been forcing the keys down with.

"How long does this go on for?" Jimin asks.

"About thirty or forty minutes," you answer. Though you turn your head back over your shoulder so that Jimin can hear you, you keep your eyes fixed on Yoongi. It's probably entirely coincidental, the sudden change in his music coinciding with when you turned away from him and when you looked back. He's not playing for you, he's playing for the whole bar, and besides, he's been looking down at the piano the whole time. He hasn't been looking at you.

And yet. The idea that Yoongi has noticed you and wants you to watch him has something hot settling low in your belly.

Jimin leans forward so that his chin is on your shoulder, talking directly into your ear as his hands wrap around your waist from behind. "This is the guy?"

Yoongi finishes the song and you watch in captivation as he swallows and runs a hand through his hair before he starts the next one. He's never done that before. Fuck. "Yes. Yoongi's the guy."

"Do you wait until he's finished so you can speak with him?" Jimin asks, ever curious.

You pause. "No," you admit. "No, I've never actually spoken to him."

Jimin doesn't ask why you've been coming back to see a guy you don't know and haven't talked to. He just hums gently. Jimin is pushy but he's also understanding and empathetic and knows what to say, when to press forward and when to hold back. It's one of the reasons you love him so much.

Jimin lapses into silence as Yoongi starts the next piece. It's one you haven't heard before and it's a little fiercer than most of Yoongi's recent songs. Rather than each note sliding into the next, he hammers them out separately, each note a statement that builds into something larger, a provocation. A storm gathering above Yoongi's waters, threatening to pull you in, pull you under.

Behind you, you hear Jungkook and Jimin briefly murmuring to each other, then Jimin's hands slide from off your waist and you hear the sound of him shifting so that Jungkook can sit down, Jimin using his boyfriend's lap as a chair instead. You have to wonder if the barstools can actually support that kind of weight, but Jin doesn't come over to tell them off, so you figure it must be okay.

On stage, Yoongi's hands pause, an uncharacteristic caesura that breaks the flow of the notes he'd been stringing together before he resumes playing as if this hiccup had never occurred. To anyone else, it would sound like that break was meant to be there, but you know better. You know Yoongi had faltered.

No way.

No way?

He's paying attention to you.

(Oh, shit.)

No way.

You're suddenly so overwhelmed that you actually feel nauseous. You've been consumed with thoughts of Yoongi for weeks, had images of him playing you just as easily as he does that piano, thoughts of him laying you out bare beneath him, but the idea that Yoongi actually knows who you are? Is aware of you on some level? Wants your eyes on him?

Fuck. 

It's too much. 

You're already off kilter from Jimin and Jungkook's arrival— as harmless as their appearance was meant to be— and this is the cherry on top. You don't know if you can keep your composure right now and you need to get away from Yoongi before you end up walking onto the stage and pulling him off that stupid piano stool to show him exactly how much you enjoy his music.

"Jimin? Jungkook? How about you say we go to a club and get absolutely shitfaced?"

You haven't looked away from Yoongi in the time that you've said this, but you can just feel the confusion emanating from the men behind you.

"But you—"

"I thought—"

"We're already dressed up, aren't we? Besides, I still owe you for film night, so drinks are on me."

There's little argument from them after that. For the first time since you've been coming here you leave before Yoongi's set is done, slipping out of the bar without noticing Jin's confused gaze on you. 

It's not until much later, once you've drunkenly fallen onto Jimin and Jungkook's couch, that the sober part of your brain whispers to you: you didn't buy Yoongi his drink.

(That night you dream of stormy skies and tattered sails and a capsizing ship. Once you wake, the memory of the dream quickly leaves you, and the last thing you remember is the sight of someone reaching towards you, pulling you out of the water, skin pale and head ringed with blond hair, a halo— and then you forget that too, slipping through your fingers like quicksand.)

–

Of course you go back to Dionysus the next week. You make Jimin promise that he won't turn up without warning again, and then you make Jungkook promise that he'll at least send you a heads-up message if Jimin changes his mind. Despite both these promises, after the debacle last week with your outfit, you've actually bought new clothes, so at least today you don't feel as scandalous. (You still look hot, though.)

You're grateful when Jin doesn't press you for details or ask why you left early last week. He just greets you like he normally does and predicts your order with his usual aptitude, and as you stir your drink with your straw, you have to wonder at what happened. You're probably overreacting, overthinking things, grasping at nothing; there is not a chance in hell that Min Yoongi, reclusive piano savant, has noticed you. No way. Nuh-uh.

He's probably only aware of your existence because of the repeated drinks you've had Jin foist on him. If anything he's probably annoyed at you after not tipping him with last week— he's probably come to expect them by now and you'd forced him to miss out. Maybe you'll get Jin to give him two drinks this week? Ooh, then again, maybe not. Is two shots of whisky a lot? People drink doubles, don't they. How strong is the wine he likes, anyway?

Yoongi's appearance on stage pulls you out of your thoughts. He makes his way up the steps, towards the piano, scans the room— and then for the first time since you've been coming here to watch him, he stops.

He stops because he's looking at you.

It's only for the briefest moment, eyes resting on you for maybe five seconds, and then you breathlessly watch as his mouth twists into something that can only be described as a smirk, pleased at the sight of you.

Oh, God.

He looks away and sits at the piano like he normally does, but you would swear that his back is a little straighter— something in his posture that reads as cockiness, even. He launches into a song that starts light but then almost immediately dances into something flirtatious, seductive, and tonight whenever Yoongi glances at you, he makes sure that you know. He turns his head just so, looks at you through the curve of his lashes, each touch of those dark eyes against your own sending little shivers through you, punching the breath out of your lungs.

You've always been entranced by Yoongi and tonight is no different. The minutes slide by as easy as water, liquid, music gliding over you like the rising tide, kissing your skin like the ebb and flow of the waves. It feels like he's barely started when his set is over and he's finished, standing up with as little ostentation as always before he vanishes off the stage.

You already have the money counted out before Jin has made his way over. You slide it towards him as he pours the whisky, but rather than asking if you have a message to pass to Yoongi, a look of consternation passes over his face.

"The price has gone up," Jin says, and you blink.

"Oh, that's no problem. How much is it now?" You're reaching for your purse to get more money out when Jin puts the whisky on the bar in front of you.

"No, don't worry, I'll just go out back and get the right change for you," he says. He says it with such confidence that it takes you a beat too long to realise that what he's just said makes no sense— why is he getting you change if you haven't even given him enough money? Isn’t there change in the till?— but by this point he's already gone, the staff door swinging shut behind him. 

You tilt your head, beyond confused.

Someone chuckles from behind you, the sound quiet and low. "Ah, cute."

You twist in your seat to see who's talking and then freeze. Yoongi is standing right there, looking at you with his dark, dark eyes; it's the first time you've been subjected to the full intensity of his gaze, from this close, and your pulse picks up. He looks a little softer without the lights of the small stage throwing him into sharp relief but his aura is just as intense; your eyes dart across each feature of his face as you drink him in— the mess of his fringe hanging into his sharp eyes, the faintest freckle on his nose, his surprisingly cute cheeks, his pink mouth.

The mouth that's curving into a sly little smile, now, your eyes flying back up to meet his own.

"I'm guessing this is for me?" He points at the whisky. He takes it before you can answer, and there's something unfairly erotic about how he drinks it: the way he holds the glass, swirling the whisky over the chilled rocks inside; the way his mouth falls open as the tumbler touches his lips; the way his head tilts back as he lets the liquor flow into his mouth, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.

You shamelessly watch him the whole time. He lowers the glass from his lips, still a little parted as he takes a breath in, and then he's looking back at you. You have to bite back a noise that's risen up in your throat, unbidden. Does he know how much he affects you? 

You adjust your position on the barstool, thoughtlessly uncrossing and recrossing your legs as you regain your balance. Yoongi's eyes fly down to watch the motion and you're close enough to him that you see how his pupils dilate at the movement. A breath escapes your mouth, a little pant of air that you desperately mask as a cough as you try to calm the racing of your heart, the flood of arousal that's pulsing through you.

"I'm glad you like the whisky," you say, your voice steady despite how your legs feel like they're about to give out. (Thank god you're sitting down.) "I'm sorry to have deprived you of it last week."

Yoongi's shifted so that he's leaning against the bar. He's standing while you're still sitting and you have to tilt your head back to look at him. "You did seem like you were in an awful hurry," he says, a teasing lilt to his tone, and yet his voice is still so low, deeper than you'd imagined.

Despite the levity in his words there's something heavy in his gaze. "Oh?" You can't help but react to it, helpless and unable to resist. "You noticed me leaving?"

Yoongi's eyes sharpen. Hooked. "Of course," he says. "You're the only thing I pay attention to when I'm here. You have been from the first night you walked in."

Your breath catches in your throat. You hadn't expected Yoongi to say something so forthright, to be so direct, more used to coy flirtation from the other people you've met in the past; it's like you've been dipped in cold water, a shock to the system, bracing and invigorating and refreshing.

"Oh," you say, at a loss with how to respond. Yoongi seems pleased to have gotten this reaction out of you, the corners of his lips curving upwards in a self satisfied smile.

"Besides," he adds, "I find it flattering that not only do you come here every week to watch me, you always make sure to make your appreciation known, too." He lifts the glass up and takes another drink, but this time he keeps his eyes locked on yours as he does, gaze unwavering as he finishes his drink. The rocks tumble over themselves as he sets the glass down on the bar, lower lip wet with a drop of whisky that lingers; his tongue sweeps across it and leaves a sheen, catching the light, shining. You can't tear your eyes away from the sight. "It would have been hard to ignore that even if I'd wanted to."

A shiver trickles down your spine. You'd really only ever meant it as a compliment, a quiet way to express your admiration about his craft, and you have to ask— "How long have you been playing the piano?"

This question seems to throw Yoongi off kilter. You see the way his lashes flutter as he blinks with surprise. "For as long as I can remember," he says, and then a small smile appears on his lips. "When I was young I had a toy piano that I constantly used to hammer at, so when I grew up a little, my parents bought the real thing so that I could learn how to play."

He sounds nostalgic and your heart squeezes in your chest. "You're self-taught, right?" You ask, remembering something Jin had told you before. 

Yoongi looks briefly startled. "Yes, I am," he says, and then his eyes narrow. "Did Jin tell you that?"

"Um, yeah." You squirm a little on the barstool. "Sorry, should I not have said anything about it?"

"No, no, you're okay. It's just that Jin says a lot of things, and I'm just wondering what else he said to you." Yoongi's tone is weirdly pained.

The concern is obvious on his face, and you wonder if Jin is to Yoongi what Jimin is to you— well-meaning but maybe a little overwhelming in their approach. 

"All good things, I promise. I love dogs, too." You smile up at Yoongi, who seems a little taken aback, and the smile starts to drop off your face. "Um. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." For all that Yoongi was smirking earlier, he seems a little unsure now. You feel confused, waiting as Yoongi clearly turns some thoughts over in his head, and then he says: "What exactly has Jin told you?"

You smile. You recognise that tone, the nonchalance that hides a little worry— it's exactly how you sound whenever you find out that Jimin has been speaking to someone about you, even if it's always positively. "Oh, just bits and pieces," you say. Feeling bold, you pat the barstool next to you, tilting your head invitingly. "Why don't you tell me about yourself instead so we can see if Jin was lying to me?"

Yoongi looks genuinely startled, his eyes widening imperceptibly before the expression wipes off his face as if nothing had happened. "Why not," he says, as if in equal parts to himself and to you, before he takes a seat.

Here's what you learn about Yoongi: he's intense, yes, and soft spoken, but as you continue to talk, he begins to loosen up, bit by bit. When he laughs he smiles so wide that his eyes squeeze shut and you can see his gums and you're so fucking endeared at the sight. He's sharp and smart and witty and just so, so intriguing. 

You prop your elbow on the bar and rest your cheek in your hand as he talks, wanting to take everything in, and you rapidly realise that Min Yoongi is less of an enigma than you'd thought, but just as complex as you'd expected— and you want to unravel that complexity. If he'll let you.

You've been talking for so long that the bar has started to empty out, patrons trickling away, the two of you so engrossed with each other that you barely notice. You find out that Jin and Yoongi are actually roommates, best friends, and that Jin is as chaotic as you'd expect and is also very good at drawing Yoongi into his shenanigans; you throw your head back to laugh at one of his stories, and when you catch your breath you find Yoongi looking at you, watching you with an expression on his face that makes you pause. He's been watching you intently all night, listening quietly whenever you talk, but this expression, this is new. He swallows.

"Can I ask something?"

You blink. "Sure, go ahead."

"Why did you keep coming back?" Yoongi asks, and that's not a question you'd been expecting at all.

"Uh," you say eloquently. "Well. Honestly? I couldn't stay away, I guess. I'm not really a musician, and I don't know a lot about the piano, but there's something in your music and the way you play— every song makes me feel something different and new, or reminds me of something I haven't felt, places I haven't been to, but I feel like I know somehow. Like I'm nostalgic for something that I haven't experienced, that doesn't exist. It's almost like you're taking my hand and showing me around some hidden part of the world that only you can see— like you've made it into music because that's the only way you can communicate it. How could I not come back after that?" You pause. "Um. Does that make sense? I feel like it didn't. Sorry?"

Yoongi's been watching you as you've been talking, silent, and by the time you've finished his mouth has fallen open a little. He stares at you for a few moments longer, and then he says: "Holy shit." And then he says: "Oh my God." And then he says: "What the fuck."

"… I guess it didn't make sense, then?" Despite the ease of your earlier conversation you suddenly feel awkward, laughing a little as your legs uncross so that you can shuffle to the edge of your barstool. Ready to hop up and make a quick get away if you need to. Run away from the embarrassment. "Um."

"Y/n," Yoongi says, and you realise with a start that you haven't introduced yourself to him throughout your whole conversation— Jin must have told him your name— but then he keeps talking. "I thought you just— I don't know, that you just kept coming back because of me. Not the music. Then Jin kept talking about you and—" 

He makes a frustrated noise at the back of his throat and runs a hand through his hair; you stare at his bared forehead, and it says about how attracted you are to him that the sight of his forehead is enough to set your heart racing. "I thought that maybe if I let this happen just one time that it would be enough, but now I don't think it will."

"Yoongi." You're confused, unsure if you've correctly understood what he's just said. "Let what happen one time? What are you talking about?"

"Touching you," Yoongi says. "Fucking you." His voice is a rasp and the sound of it, the sound of his words, shoots straight through you and into your core. "I thought the drinks were— I don't know, an invitation. But they weren't, were they? You really meant it. You really like my music. And me."

Yoongi's voice is hoarse and you come to the realisation that he feels tense. Like he can accept that you want to have sex with him, but he's bowled over by the idea that you're attracted to the other parts, too, as few of those as you know. That you genuinely enjoy what he plays. That you think it's the most beautiful sound you've ever heard.

"Yoongi," you say, tone deceptively gentle. "I really, really like your music, and I think you're an incredibly talented musician, and I've been memorising everything Jin's been telling me about you because I think you're one of the most interesting people I've ever come across and I'd really like to get to know more about you. So I'm really glad to have had the opportunity to talk to you like this." You gesture between the two of you, sitting as you are, facing towards each other on your barstools. And then you brace yourself to take the leap, to throw yourself into uncharted waters. "However, I am also insanely attracted to you and I've spent the past I-don't-know-how-many weeks picturing you bending me over that piano and fucking me so hard that I can't walk straight."

Yoongi freezes in the middle of rubbing the back of his neck, a clearly nervous habit. Though your voice has kept steady while you've been talking, your heart has been thrumming in your chest the whole time, feeling as nervous as Yoongi looks. Something flickers across his face, and his hand drops away from his neck as he straightens, pushing himself off from where he's been leaning against the bar.

"Oh?" He leans towards you. Your legs unthinkingly part as he moves, the material of your dress hitching up as you spread your knees so that he can get closer. "So you do want me to fuck you?"

His nervousness seems to be entirely gone, emboldened by your words. One of his hands comes up to cup the back of your head, fingers sliding into your hair as he holds you in place, at his mercy. He's barely touched you but the feeling of contact makes you bite back a whimper. Even though it's darker here and you're away from the tables, away from the few remaining patrons of the bar, the two of you are in plain sight even under the dimmed lights; you're not doing anything illicit or inappropriate but a little thrill trickles down your spine at the idea.

"Yoongi," you breathe.

"What is it, babygirl?" He tips his head down as he moves closer, his nose brushing yours, each of his words a warm curl across your lips. "Tell me."

The pet name sends a shiver through you. Your hands rise from your lap, sliding over his chest to touch lightly at his neck, a little shy, a little bold. "I want you to kiss me."

"Oh?" Yoongi's mouth is so close to yours, and when you tilt forward to kiss him, he stays just out of your reach, leaving you wanting. "You think you deserve a kiss, do you?"

You can't help but make a little noise, a petulant whine at the back of your throat. He has you entirely at his mercy and he knows it. "Please," you say. "Please, Yoongi, wanna kiss you so bad."

The smile he gives you in reply is wicked. "How can I say no when you've asked so politely?"

Yoongi finally, finally dips his head down and then he's kissing you with such intensity it steals the breath out of you. It's open-mouthed and wet and dirty, his tongue sliding into your mouth in between taking your top and bottom lips between his own, alternating, sucking on them and lapping at them with his tongue. You chase after his mouth with your own, roll your tongues together, hands sliding over the smooth skin of his throat as they circle behind his neck, but then Yoongi pulls away; you bite that needy whine back again, kiss cut short far sooner than you would have liked.

Yoongi is taking the sight of you in, eyes lingering on your shining lips, and then he's rising to stand. You're shaken out of your kiss-induced haze when he does, a little confused, but he takes your hand in his and you let him lift up, pressing a surprisingly tender kiss to the back of your knuckles.

"Do you want to get out of here?" His voice is pitched low, deep with a promise of pleasure to come, and you shiver.

"God, I thought you'd never ask," you say in a rush, and he just laughs quietly at your obvious desperation.

"Come on, then." He helps you off the barstool, your hand still in his— god, his hands are so big and his touch is so warm. His eyes are dark as he watches the way you reach to rearrange the hem of your dress with your free hand, but he beats you to it, palm flattening the material against your legs; his fingers dance just under the edge as he straightens it, hand sliding over the skin of your inner thigh and lingering before he pulls away.

"You're shameless," you say, a little breathless, and Yoongi just smirks at you. Tease.

Your fingers remain tangled with his as he leads you behind the bar and through the staff door. Jin's out back, scrolling through something on his phone, but as soon as you walk in he abandons whatever he's doing and raises his eyebrows. He looks surprisingly severe. "Customers aren't allowed back here."

Your eyes widen, but then Jin's serious expression cracks and he starts to laugh. Although he's joking and clearly doesn't care, you feel a little guilty at breaking the rules and duck behind Yoongi, shy. Yoongi snorts and holds a middle finger up at the bartender.

Jin gasps theatrically, clutching his chest while looking askance. "I raise you from birth and this is the thanks I get?"

"You're one year older than me, hyung."

"I carry you in my womb for nine months and birth you into this world and you— oh, okay, you technically shouldn't be doing that either," Jin says, stopping mid-sentence as Yoongi decides his hyung has been talking for too long and turns away from him to start kissing you again, shameless as he tugs you close to him and licks into your mouth; you immediately fall back into him, unable to resist. "Jesus Christ, Yoongi."

Once you part, you bury your head into Yoongi's chest as his arms come around you, hiding your embarrassment in Yoongi's dress shirt. "Sorry, Jinnie," you say, muffled.

"You are absolutely not to blame here, Y/n, you are an angel and a sweetheart." Jin's tone is soothing. "Yoongi, however, is a tiny evil gremlin who needs to learn how to control himself. Though I can't blame him, you are very cute."

"Hyung, I need the apartment tonight," Yoongi says without preamble. You wriggle in the circle of his arms. You're not normally this timid but Yoongi is just so direct and blasé with Jin that you can't help but feel a little shy, as hot and bothered as you are.

"I'll crash at Joon's," the bartender says. He’s obviously not surprised. You lift your head from Yoongi's chest to look at Jin and find that he's smiling at you. "If Yoongi starts to bother you, just whap him on the nose. I find a rolled up newspaper works best if you have one to hand."

"I'll kill you, Kim Seokjin," Yoongi says.

Jin just laughs as he waves the two of you off and you take the initiative to start pulling Yoongi towards the back door. He comes easily, but once the door has swung shut behind you he takes the lead again and guides you towards his car. He lets go of your hand so that he can unlock it, swinging the passenger door open for you, and he's unabashed in how he watches you step in and eyes the way your dress hitches up again as you slide into your seat; he leans against the car and just stares at you.

There's honestly nothing sexier when someone clearly wants you as much as you want them. It makes you feel bold, drunk on the way he looks at you. 

You glance up at him through your lashes. "The sooner we get to yours, the sooner you can have me," you say.

Yoongi curses under his breath. "You're going to be the death of me."

Surprisingly enough, though, he keeps his hands to himself when he gets behind the wheel. You can't help but feel a little surprised; you don't know how close Yoongi's home is to the bar, but you very rapidly tire of waiting to feel his hands on you again and so you lean over the centre console and press a fleeting kiss just behind his ear.

Yoongi doesn't outwardly react, continuing to stare at the road, so you take this as a challenge. You slide one of your hands onto his thigh— for balance, of course— and kiss behind his ear again, tug his lobe with your teeth, mindful of his piercings, and then proceed to trail little kisses down his neck and the little slither of his collarbone that you can reach without his shirt getting in the way. You finally get to lick your tongue in the hollow of his neck that you've been thinking about for weeks.

Yoongi's hands tighten on the steering wheel. Jackpot. 

"Y/n," he says, voice low, and you're so close to his throat that you can hear the rumble behind his words. You love it. "You should stop now, or we're not going to make it to my apartment."

You go still. Yoongi continues to look at the road but his knuckles are white with how hard he's gripping the wheel, and when you glance down you can see how much you've affected him, cock hardening in his slacks. It would be so easy to slide your hand up his thigh and finally touch him, have him pull over and wreck you, but you want something more than a quick fumble in the seat of a car. 

So you just press your lips lightly against the line of his jaw one last time. You let yourself breathe in the dark scent of his cologne— pinewood and pepper and something deeper— before you pull back, folding your hands in your lap demurely, trying to force yourself to be content with waiting.

"Good girl," Yoongi says. You can't help but preen; you don't normally respond to praise like this, but something about Yoongi just makes you want to please him, hear him compliment you again. Yoongi glances at you, a little flicker of realisation as he sees how you've just reacted to his words, and his eyes darken. "You like that, baby? Like being a good girl for me?"

Fuck. "Yes." Your pulse is rising. You've been craving Yoongi for weeks, but god, if he asked you to go home right now, sent you home without touching you, you'd go, just to hear him call you a good girl again. But you don't want him to leave you untouched, you don't want that at all. "I want you to touch me, Yoongi," you say. "I'll be a good girl, please just touch me."

"Fuck." Yoongi's foot presses down on the accelerator. He's never wanted to live closer to the bar before, but the sight of you staring at him from his passenger seat and rubbing your thighs together in a desperate attempt to give yourself some relief is making him rethink his housing location. "I will, baby. We'll be there soon."

Soon turns out to be less than five minutes, scarcely any time at all, though each second is torturous in how long it feels. Yoongi's careless in how he parks the car, wonky within the lines of his spot, but neither of you notice or care. You fumble with the buckle of your belt, climbing out of the car as quickly as you can and slamming the door shut with more power than you probably need to, noise loud in the quiet of the night.

Before you can react, however, Yoongi is rounding the car and grabbing you, pressing you against the metal and glass of the door. One of his hands slips under your thigh, lifting your leg and shoving the hem of your dress out of the way so that he can grind against you; you gasp at the feeling of his growing hardness against the dampness of your underwear, and Yoongi leans forward to swallow the sound into his mouth. 

The kiss is rushed and desperate, but you love the messiness of it. Yoongi pulls away to press his lips against the side of your mouth, your cheek, your jaw, your neck, mouthing at the jumping pulse he finds there. You start to make small ah-ah noises when he laves his tongue over it, one of your hands tangling in his hair as you tilt your head back, each of his touches fizzing like electricity on your skin.

"P-people could see," you stutter, struggling to catch your breath with how good his mouth feels on you.

Yoongi smirks against your skin. "I thought you wanted me to touch you," he says, but immediately relents, pulling away from you so he can lead you into the building. You miss the heat of his body against yours but he keeps hold of your hand as you follow him; it's late and the building seems quiet, so you're mindful of just how loud your high heels sound as they clack on the floor, though Yoongi doesn't seem to care.

When you step into the apartment you reach down for the straps on your shoes so you can kick them off but Yoongi stops you with a hand to your shoulder. It's a light touch but you stop immediately, glancing up from your feet to his face.

"Let me," he says, and a hot trickle of arousal runs down your spine at the tone of his voice. 

You straighten up and watch as Yoongi gets down on one knee, hands circling around your ankle and lifting your foot. You rest the toe of your shoe lightly on Yoongi's knee, watching as he undoes the strap around your ankle and slides the shoe off, setting it to one side, before he presses his lips to the inside of your knee. You shiver at the light touch and Yoongi smirks, letting your ankle go so you can move and he can take your other shoe off, too.

He barely takes his eyes off your face the whole time, only glancing down when he has to. His motions are slow and unhurried despite his earlier rush, carefully setting the second shoe next to the first, and you can't help but feel like he's teasing you— drawing out your reactions just because he can. Before you can say anything about it, though, his hands trail up from your calves to your thigh before he hitches your leg over his shoulder, one hand staying on your thigh as the other grips at your hip.

You bite back a gasp. From his angle Yoongi can see everything and he's looking up with hooded eyes, staring at the dark patch on your underwear, wet for him; his gaze trails across the lace of the lingerie you're wearing, the small colourful flowers blooming across the dark material. It was something you'd put on to complete your outfit, the matching panties and bra making you feel expensive and pretty— even if you hadn't expected anyone to see it.

"Look at you," he says, hand lowering from your hip to trace lightly across your slit; it's a barely-there touch, sensation dulled by the material in the way, but you still jolt at the feeling of it. "Did you wear this for me?"

"Of course," you confess. You've wanted his eyes on you for so long. "Always dress up pretty for you."

"Fuck." He sounds reverent. "You've always been such a good girl for me, haven't you?"

A needy noise rises unbidden at the back of your throat when Yoongi spreads your leg wider and leans forward to mouth at you through the lace of your panties. Your knees go weak and you have to lean back against the wall for balance, grateful at how close you are to it when Yoongi draws his tongue upwards, wetting the fabric, your toes curling.

"Yoongi." One of your hands is resting in his hair and you can't stop your grip from tightening. "Yoongi, please."

He gives you what you want, fingers hooking into your underwear and pulling it down; he lets your leg drop so that you can step out of them, but as soon as you've finished he throws the panties to one side, one hand splaying across your stomach as the other lifts your leg again so that you’re spread open for him, immediately pressing his mouth to your clit.

"Oh!" You gasp. Yoongi seems to have tired of his teasing and is eating you out like a man starved, the slick sound of his tongue and lips filling the apartment as he laves attention on your dripping pussy, staring up at you as he drinks your reactions in. He dips his tongue into you and your hips try to buck forwards but the hand on your stomach holds you in place, firm, and you let out an embarrassingly loud keen at how good it feels to be this powerless.

You slap your free hand across your mouth and try to swallow the noise down. Yoongi frowns and stops, leaning his head back as he looks at you; his mouth is shining with evidence of your arousal, opalescent. "I want to hear you."

You bite your lip, forcing your hand away from your mouth; you don't want to be too loud, too noisy, but you want to be a good girl for Yoongi. He wants to hear you so you'll give him what he wants.

"O-okay," you breathe, and Yoongi smirks up at you; it's filthy, how he's looking at you like that while his lips are wet with you. You tilt your hips towards him, desperate to have his mouth on you again, and he immediately complies.

He's lapping at your clit when the hand on your stomach moves and slides down. You watch as he takes his tongue off you so that he can curl it around his fingers instead, before running those fingers across your lower lips to gather the slick there, wetting them even further. You roll your hips into the sensation, loving the press of his slightly rough fingers against your silken folds, wanting more, eyes wide as you watch how Yoongi's hand trails between your legs.

He puts his mouth back on your clit at the same time as he presses one of those spit slick fingers into you. You're so turned on that the initial slide in is easy, but he still takes his time; he's distracting you with the way he's sucking at your small bundle of nerves but you still feel when he presses his second finger in, longer than yours, the sensation of it even better than you'd dreamed.

He crooks his fingers and you throw your head back against the wall, dull thud barely registering over the sensation of Yoongi inside you. He sees how you react and continues to move his fingers in the same way, thrusting his fingers in and curling them as he pulls out, watching as you writhe; the pleasure inside you has been growing, the feeling building, and if Yoongi keeps doing that then you're going to cum. "I'm close," you gasp.

Yoongi responds to this by pushing a third finger inside you, rubbing his fingertips directly over your sweet spot. The stretch burns, just a little, but God, you love it. He purses his lips over your clit and flicks his tongue over it at the same time as he curls his fingers again and it undoes you; your spine arches away from the wall as you cum, ripples of pleasure sparking through your body as you tighten around Yoongi's fingers, sobbing almost deliriously at how good it feels.

Yoongi watches you the whole time, keeps his mouth on you as you ride out your high. He only moves away when you start to jolt from oversensitivity, pulling his fingers out carefully as he does. You feel empty without them inside you and you can't wait for him to fill you up with something better instead.

Yoongi holds you steady, his grip firm as you slip your leg from his shoulder and shakily push yourself off the wall. Once you've gotten your balance he stands up— his knees must hurt but he doesn't complain, too busy watching you lift his fingers to your lips, sucking them into your mouth so you can lick the taste of yourself off him.

"Jesus Christ." Yoongi stares at the way you flick your tongue across his skin, glancing at him coquettishly through your lashes. You reach out for him, hands moving towards his belt, but he shakes his head. "Bedroom," he says.

Of course you follow him. At any other time you'd be taking in the details of the apartment, the glimpses you get into the other rooms, but you're too busy looking at Yoongi to have a mind for anything else. He's been hard for so long by now that it must be driving him crazy and you want to give him what he wants. What he needs.

He swings a door open and flicks a light on. Yoongi's room is what you'd expected: neat and organised, with dark furnishings, the only mess being a few scrunched up balls of paper that have overflowed the trash-bin by his desk, which has a pile of notepads next to his laptop and a set up of musical equipment that looks far too complex for you to make heads or tails of. 

You forget about this instantly, however, when Yoongi captures your lips in another kiss, a hand splaying across your jaw so that he can control the pace, crowding you towards the bed until the back of your knees make contact with it and you fall onto the mattress. Yoongi cages you in with his arms and keeps kissing you, though when you palm him through his slacks he hisses through his teeth.

"Want you, Yoongi." You use your hand to stroke over the hardness of him as you nip at his lower lip. "Please."

"Fuck, of course, babygirl." Yoongi leans back and you move with him, sitting up as he stands straight. He unbuttons his shirt and you help him slide it off his shoulders, using it as an excuse to run your hands over the pale skin he reveals to you, sliding your palms down his chest and over his stomach; you dip your head to kiss where your hands have traced, letting your tongue flick across his skin. You lick shamelessly at one of his nipples and feel drunk on the way he lets out a surprised little breath, turning your head to do the same to his other nipple as your hands finally reach their goal: his belt.

You deftly unbuckle it, fast enough that the leather makes a snapping noise when you pull it, and Yoongi bites back a laugh— under normal circumstances you might be embarrassed by how obvious you're being, but you're desperate to finally touch him, especially after he'd made you cum as hard as he had. You look up at him as you reach for his zipper but falter when you notice that he's staring at you with something akin to awe, lifting your lips off his skin.

"What?" You ask, suddenly feeling shy.

Yoongi doesn't respond verbally. Instead, he quirks a little grin at you before he cups your face with both hands and bends down to kiss you again, deeper and slower than he has before. You match his pace, the two of you tilting your heads to get a little closer, but when you continue to pull Yoongi's zip down he laughs against your lips and you smile. He gets the hint, stepping back so he has room to kick his trousers and underwear off; he's not trying to be sensual about it, moving fast so he can get close to you again, but you're enraptured nonetheless.

You swallow at the sight of his cock when it’s finally freed. It's flushed red from neglect, fully hardened, curving up towards his stomach, and you can see how the head glistens with precum, slick and wet. Saliva floods your mouth. Yoongi looks briefly startled when you put your hands against his hips and lightly push him backwards, but then you slide off the bed and onto your knees in front of him and the shock immediately disappears from his face, tangling a hand in your hair as you settle in place.

He's so hard that you don't feel like teasing him. Instead, you take the precum that's gathered at the tip of his cock and rub it down his length, hand wrapping around and twisting as you dip forwards and take the flushed head into your mouth. You can't swallow him all the way down, thanks to your gag reflex, but you give it a damn good go— you relax your throat as much as you can as you lower your head, using your hand to touch the parts of his cock that aren't in your mouth. You tongue at the vein on the underside as you lift back up, using your free hand to cup his balls, and Yoongi curses, his hand tightening in your hair as he pulls you off.

You blink up at him in surprise, mouth still open after he's slid out of your mouth— you feel like you'd barely started— and you can see how his cock twitches as he drinks the sight of you in.

"That mouth of yours is downright sinful," he says, running his thumb over your lower lip. You go lax under his touch, which seems to please him. "As much as I'd like to cum down your throat, I think you want something else instead, don't you, babygirl?"

Your breath shudders out of you and you nod. You want Yoongi's cock inside you, itching for him to finally fuck you stupid, the way you've been yearning for so long. "God, yes, please."

Yoongi's lips twitch at your shameless desperation. "Stand up then, baby," he says, and you comply. "Turn around."

You turn towards the bed to show Yoongi your back, and he slowly unzips your dress; it slides off your shoulders easily, slipping down your body and pooling on the floor as Yoongi drags his hands over the revealed skin. You tremble under his touch, sensitive to each of his motions as he unclasps your bra, and finally you're entirely unclothed, lingerie carelessly tossed to one side before Yoongi pulls you close.

Your back is pressed to his chest, and you can feel the heat and hardness of his cock pressing against you, but you forget about that when his hands move to cup your breasts, rubbing his thumbs over your nipples. You tilt your head back against his shoulder and he takes the opportunity to kiss down your neck, using his tongue to lick down the bared length of it, and your breath hitches in your throat as he pinches one of your nipples between his fingers, the perfect mix of careful roughness.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," Yoongi breathes into the crook of your neck. You whimper and grind back against him, feeling the wetness of his cock as it slips against your skin, and he bites back a groan.

"Yoongi, I need you," you say, so close to finally getting what you've been craving for so long. "Please," you add, voice high with desperation.

You feel how Yoongi bares his teeth against your skin in a silent snarl before he's turning you around in his arms, and you squeal in surprise as he hitches you upwards onto the bed, your head falling onto the pillows. It wasn't a rough motion, Yoongi still careful even when he's clearly as hungry for you as you are for him, but you find yourself whimpering at how he's manhandled you, loving it. Seems like he's helping you discover things about yourself that you hadn't realised before now.

Yoongi settles between your legs, staring down at you, bare and helpless underneath him. You reach out your hand to touch his chest, sweeping your fingers down the line of his stomach and over the trail of dark hair that leads down to his weeping cock, still shining with your spit. He curses, leaning over you to paw at his nightstand drawer; he fumbles with the lube and condom when you wrap your fingers around his length again, stroking him hard and slow.

"Yoongi, please," you say again, practically begging, wanting him inside you as quickly as possible. He curses under his breath again but then wraps his fingers around yours, pulling your hand off his cock. You pout at him. "I've been a good girl, haven't I?"

"Good girls are patient." Yoongi leans back on his heels and you make a small whining noise, but you quieten when you watch him rip open the condom packet; you reach forward again to help him roll it down his cock, wanting to keep the feeling of his hardness and heat under your touch, but he fixes you with a stern gaze. "Hands."

You pause, wondering exactly what he means. You settle on pulling your hands away and stretch up to let them rest on the pillow above you. You must have done the right thing because Yoongi smiles, and you give a squirm of delight. He shifts closer and hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, turning his head to kiss your inner ankle.

"So perfect," he says, and you squirm again, pleased. He reaches for the bottle of lube and uncaps it with a quiet click, drizzling it directly onto his cock and biting back a noise at the coldness of it— but then he squirts more into his hands, warming it between his fingers. You make a small questioning sound, and Yoongi smiles before kissing your ankle again. "This is for you, baby."

Your eyebrows raise in quiet surprise. You're already so wet, dripping with a mix of your own cum and Yoongi's lingering spit, but he's still being this careful and considerate. He dips his slick fingers between your flushed lips and draws them upwards, making you arch your back as he grazes over your pearl of nerves, pleasure shooting directly into your core. 

"Oh, fuck," you gasp. "God, please, Yoongi, please."

"I've got you, babygirl," he murmurs, and you marvel at his self control, his restraint even now. He grips your leg with one hand and uses the other to guide himself into you. Finally. You moan as he sinks in, stretching you, slowly pushing in inch by inch; you can feel the way your walls stretch, parting for him, until he's bottomed out, and you feel so full.

"Holy shit, Yoongi." You've moved your hands and you're digging your nails into his back, trying to pull him closer even though it's not possible, Yoongi's cock so long that you can feel it filling you completely. "Oh, God."

Yoongi's fringe is hanging in his eyes but you can see how his pupils have almost swallowed the dark of his irises, the way he's drinking in the sight of you beneath him— your pupils are blown too, hair a messy halo against the pillows, nipples hard from arousal, chest heaving as you hiccup in air. He pulls out, just as slowly as he'd pushed in, the drag of his cock against your inner walls sending electricity shooting through your nerves; he stops before he's completely out, only the head of him still inside you, and you bite your lip in anticipation, waiting for the next slow thrust in.

You're completely blindsided when Yoongi snaps his hips forward suddenly, fucking sharply into you, and you choke on a surprised breath. He sets a brutal pace, the sound of his skin slapping against yours almost drowned out by the way you wail. Your hands fall away from his back and to the sheets, fingers gripping at them, twisting under your hands. His brows are drawn together with focus, but when you raise a hand up to touch his face he goes easily, letting your leg slip off his shoulder so he can kiss you.

His motions slow somewhat as you kiss each other, but he keeps the roll of his hips just as deep, and you end up all but panting against his mouth instead of kissing him; he swipes his tongue across your lips and you let them fall open so he can lick into your mouth, sloppy and wet. You can feel an orgasm building again, surprisingly fast— especially as he's not even touching your clit— and you clench around him, wanting to hit that peak again.

Yoongi stops kissing you to rest his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes as he slows his thrusts, grinding into you each time he pushes all the way in, hips flush with yours. "Such a good girl." His voice is a low rasp, dark and heavy. "So pretty for me."

Yes, yes, yes. "Wanna be your good girl," you breathe. "Make you feel as good as you make me feel."

Yoongi actually growls, wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you up. You grab his shoulders for support, legs spreading so that your knees hit the mattress, his cock still inside you as you look down at him, both of you kneeling now. Your breasts are pressed against his chest, stomachs flush, and Yoongi grinds up into you. His hands slide from your waist, to your ass, fingers digging into your flesh as he pulls you up; the change of angle has the curve of his cock dragging right across your sweet spot and you gasp. "Oh, yes, there, just like that."

You press down as Yoongi's hips snap up, and you can feel how his motions are starting to get a little jerkier, staccato, the way he speeds up. With the drag of your nipples against his chest, and the way he's hitting your g-spot dead on each time, you're close to hitting your peak, pleasure riding up into a crescendo— and then Yoongi slides one of his hands between the two of you to rub at your clit and you're gone again, gasping and shaking as your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, all the air escaping your lungs in a drawn out, shuddering wail.

"Fuck, baby." Yoongi's motions grow a little more hurried and sloppy, thrusting up into you as your walls pulsate around him. You try to match his pace, drinking down the way his face twists as he chases his own release— and then his grip on you grows tight enough to bruise and he cums with a surprisingly quiet moan. He grinds upwards, his cock twitching inside you as he empties himself into the condom; you shiver at the sensation, squeezing your legs around his hips in an instinctive attempt to draw him as deeply into you as possible, as futile as that is.

Your legs are shaking. You remain tangled around each other, sweaty and panting, but then Yoongi is grasping your chin and tilting your head down so that he can kiss you. It's soft, and gentle, and you melt into it, going lax and boneless in his hold as you tighten your hands in his hair. 

You feel how he smiles tiredly against your lips, and when you pull back, he looks thoroughly fucked out; his hair is a mess from how you've been running your hands through it and lips are kiss swollen, parted so that he can suck air in and try to catch his breath. You must look similarly wrecked. You feel hazy, though Yoongi feels solid beneath you, grounding you as you slowly come back to yourself.

"I'm going to lean you back, beautiful," he says, and you entwine your fingers together behind his neck so that he can tilt you onto the mattress, careful and reverent. He slips his softening cock out of you and you let out a small sigh at the sudden feeling of emptiness, though as soon as he's done tying the condom off and throwing it in the bin he comes back to you, lightly kissing you as he draws a hand gently between the valley of your breasts. Despite the tenderness behind the motion you're suddenly struck with wondering if he's about to ask you to leave, but then he asks: "Do you want to come wash up?"

You pause. "Oh, God, my makeup," you say with sudden realisation as your fingers come up to touch under your eyes. Your eyeshadow and mascara must be a mess by now. You splay your hand across your face, as if trying to hide it— which you know is stupid, especially considering the fact the rest of your body is naked under Yoongi's gaze. He huffs out a laugh and takes your hands with his own, pulling them away. "Nooo," you whine. "Don't look at me."

One of Yoongi's eyebrows rises. "Why would I ever want to look away from you?"

You wriggle. "Yoongi," you whine again, equal parts pleased and embarrassed, but you let your hands go limp and Yoongi pulls you to your feet. "You're shameless."

"And you're gorgeous," he says, simply. "Come on, you'll get cold."

Yoongi lets you clean up first. It's weird how comfortable you are as you navigate your way around Yoongi and Jin's bathroom— you pilfer one of Jin's makeup wipes to clean your face— and how natural it feels to accept the shirt Yoongi gives you, an oversized, stretched-out old thing that's gone soft from years of wear. You're perched on the bathroom counter as you slide it on, glancing down at the design on the front, and you instantly perk up when you see what it is.

"You do love Kumamon," you say with delight. 

Yoongi stops in the middle of brushing his teeth, looking a little ridiculous with the minty froth around his lips but still just as kissable. He rinses his mouth and spits, wiping his lips with a towel before he makes a face at you.

"Jin told you about that, too?"

"I want to see your slippers," you say in reply and Yoongi groans. You can't help but giggle, feeling sleepy and soft and affectionate, and you touch your fingers under Yoongi's chin so that you can press a quick kiss to his lips. "I think it's cute."

By the time you've both finished your ablutions and you slide off the counter, you feel tired, what little energy you had after being fucked by Yoongi completely gone from you; you slide onto Yoongi's bed gratefully, glad to be off your feet. You hold your hands up and beckon for him to join you, but then let out a sharp laugh of surprise when he tugs his rumpled blanket off the bed from underneath you and lets it drop to the floor. "Yoongi!"

"I'll be right back," he says. While you wait, you decide to stretch, eyes slipping shut as you extend your limbs. You know you'll feel the ache between your legs tomorrow, a little thrill skating through you at the knowledge that Yoongi's touch has left a physical reminder, something only you can feel and no one else can see.

When your eyes flutter open again, you see Yoongi standing at the bottom of the bed, a different blanket gathered in his arms. He's staring at you, and you realise that the material of his shirt has moved as you've stretched, hitching up over your hips. Even though you're both tired, Yoongi's eyes still darken when you shift your legs, and you bask under his attention.

"A different blanket?" You ask, curious, and Yoongi's eyes slide away from your still-bare core back up to your face.

"It's Jin's," he says. "I wasn't about to let you sleep on sweaty sex sheets."

"I don't mind," you say, honestly, but Yoongi proceeds to lay Jin's blanket across the bed anyway. "Jin's not going to be happy about this," you add, but you say it with a laugh, instantly curling up into Yoongi when he lays down beside you.

"He'll live." Yoongi's arm comes around you, fingers trailing over your shoulder; you lapse into silence and let your eyes shut, focusing on Yoongi's movements. It feels like he’s pressing piano keys down and playing a silent song against your skin. You can't help but smile, starting to drift off, when Yoongi speaks again. "Let me take you out for breakfast."

"Hm?" Your eyes open and you blink away your sleepiness to look up at Yoongi, who's still watching you. "Breakfast?"

"Yes." Yoongi's fingers still on your shoulder, and then he slides his hand down to tangle your fingers with his. "Or lunch. Or dinner. Whichever you prefer." He pauses. "Unless you don't want to," he says, and though his voice stays steady, you see a flicker of nervousness in his eyes. He's worried that you've gotten what you want and now you'll be done with him.

"You're so silly," you say softly, and you can see how Yoongi's face twists with confusion, unsure about how to react to being called silly— you can't imagine many people have said that to him, as outwardly intimidating as he can be. You squeeze his hand. "Of course I want to. But how about we plan it tomorrow? I don't know how long it's going to take me to be comfortable with walking in a straight line, so breakfast might be off the cards for now."

After a moment, Yoongi's face takes on a satisfied expression. "That's what you said you wanted," he says, and you huff out an amused breath.

"I technically said I wanted you to bend me over a piano, actually," you point out, letting your head settle in the crook of his neck again, and Yoongi brushes his lips against your forehead.

"There's a piano in the living room," he states casually, and you can't help the shiver that runs through you, even as your eyes start to fall shut again.

"I'll keep that in mind."

–

jiminnie y/n!! tae said you called in sick for work? are you okay??

you i'm good! just a lil busy

jiminnie with what?

you [image attached]

jiminnie … why have you sent me a photo of a piano?

you yoongi's gonna fuck me on it omg on that note i've gtg BYE LOVE YOU MINNIE xoxoxo

jiminnie WHAT??? OMG??? GET THAT DICK QUEEN!!!

[kataracy]

What is it like shipping Kataang pre- and post-the ATLA resurgence? Like did the overall environment for shipping it change?

TL;DR: shipping is most fun when I only make it my day and not my week. Post-resurg is great but AYE be careful about wasting your energy on dead-end arguments if you not built to debate critically or roast mercilessly

It’s kinda lit bc think about, the final episode for Avatar The Last Airbender came out in July 19, 2008.

Since 2008, I have gotten to see a black girl from the ice make it to a happy, oogey relationship with a male character who preaches tolerance, both of them are secret powerhouse and yet Aang would rather make jewelry than constantly be suffering under his anguish in many different forms of media at different points in their journey.

Because I have had more time to develop a personal relationship with kataang (I bought them hoes flowers, I dedicated weeks of energy for free, I made art, I did cosplay, I got atla tattoos girl) there’s no more like... there’s no need to defend it? Even if they retcon or ruin the whole thing, I’ve already seen atla ruin things so its not like it’ll be a surprise. Personally, I’m eager to see all of the things newer audiences might call out in defense against kataang because all the old stuff is either tired, dramatized at the detriment of the characters or irrelevant to a fan like me.

idk if I said this before but, when LoK came out, everybody who didn’t want kataang as end game suggested that

Bumi was Zuko’s son,

Aang was only neglectful to his children 

Katara just took the kids wherever she wanted while Aang built up the city carefree

and boyyyyyyy those were some of the dumbest takes I’ve seen bro ppl were really out here championing cheating, deadbeat daddy mentality and Katara as a single parent; meanwhile here comes my vanilla ass (who already preferred watching TV where the straight couple, you know, got along first bc I wasn’t raised on weird shows where they hate eachother like everybody loves raymond or whatever the girls were watching back then)  wanting a relationship to evolve naturally, being drowned out by loudmouths who wanted Katara to fall in love with one of the men who either took away her agency on their first scenes with her or just looked nice next to her.

Shipping Post-res feels like I left the fandom at a good time, had fun elsewhere and then came back to only better changes. Better discussion, better use of browns on those art palettes and still a few whitewashed Katara’s just to let me know some things never change 👌🏾 tbh after using twitter I understand a lot better that these fans lived vastly differently lives than me and they aren’t hurting anybody but themselves by being wrong about a cartoon sometimes.

[proantagonista]

I still don’t want to open a can of worms by getting into specifics, but I think a lot of my feelings toward the TV show have to do with that character on screen…not being Loki.

He looks and sounds like Loki, but he doesn’t talk or act like him. And it weirds me out because of how foreign his character feels when he should actually feel pretty darn familiar. Since, you know…we’ve seen Loki post-Avengers 1 before.

Yes, this is partially the fault of the TV show’s oversimplification of his redemption arc. All of Loki’s character growth was completely wiped out, and we were presented with a shallow, cheap alternative. But the problem is much more basic and stupid than that. The show runners have not put enough thought and effort into fully defining who they want Loki to be going forward. And they sure as hell aren’t playing up Tom’s strengths as an actor.

Part of the problem is the result of the tone change of the Thor franchise. It went from being this Shakespearean Space Opera to slapstick comedy, and Tom’s acting is much better suited to Shakespeare. (I mean, have you seen him on stage?) Tom gave Loki so much power and life and visceral emotion because he’s damn good at interpreting that kind of script. The loss of that more dramatic tone caused Loki’s character to fade into the background of Ragnarok. Tbh, that’s really when we saw the original Loki vanish off screen. Now we have another tone change in the Loki TV show, and Tom’s Shakespearean Loki is still out of a job.

People love to bash The Dark World as the worst MCU film, and I think that more dramatic tone gets unfairly blamed. Never mind that the first Thor film did quite well and that the audience couldn’t get enough Shakespearean Loki in the first Avengers movie. The criticism of TDW and the relative unpopularity of the character of Thor in Phase 1 resulted in the massive tone change that was Ragnarok. And yes, Thor became much more popular with the masses. (Because guess what? Chris is great at comedy in the same way that Tom is amazing with stage acting.) But the problem is that Loki’s original characterization was sacrificed in the process of the dramatic tone change of the franchise. And even though he has his own show now, it does not appear that Disney wants to revive him. They want a new Loki altogether.

And herein lies the problem. They gave the TV show a definite feel and flavor but um, forgot to do that with the main character. He’s still in the background like he was in Ragnarok. It’s like they thought “oh, the audience already knows Loki so it’s okay if we put most of the focus into defining the other characters and setting.” But uh, you kinda gutted his character a few films ago, so maybe back up a sec first?

The whole show feels like a TV pilot where the actors and writers haven’t completely nailed down their characters yet. Like good lord, what a waste of an actor. Do they…not understand what made Loki so popular to begin with? Yes, comedic-Thor is more popular than dramatic-Thor, but the reverse is true when it comes to Loki.

Do something with him. Give Tom something to work with. Let him command the stage the way he did at Comic Con.

That’s the Loki the audience wants.

Unfortunately, the Loki that I connected to so much was the old one. The one that raged against fate and both loved and hated his brother. And I don’t think he’s the kind of hero Disney is looking for.

And this is really stupid, but I also hate Loki’s TV wardrobe. Loki should be in dramatic strappy leather with boots and horns and KNIVES and instead they made him look like Joaquin Phoenix’s Joker with the color palette and the clothing and I HATE IT.

Uh, oops - my hand slipped, and I accidentally got into specifics. I should shut up now before I really get going because yes, there is a lot more I would like to rant about. Mostly, I just want my dramatic/imperfect/powerful/impulsive emotional support character back.

I’m suddenly having belated but extremely strong opinions about the Loki tv series that no one wants to hear and I don’t really want to talk about, and I don’t know what to do with it all except glare at the wall.

[lady-grace-pens]

Wip Excerpt: HTKAG

In light of this wip hitting another 10k word goal recently (currently sitting pretty at a whopping 120k/150k 😅), another excerpt is due! This babe I wrote today, buut I actually loved it so much I knew I had to share it with y'all right away. That all being said, let's stop wasting time and get straight into it!

Our scene begins with Allister entering a restaurant to have dinner with Mikko, Fingal, and Perci, but Perci is late.

—

Upon telling the hostess Fingal’s name, she leads me away to the right half of the room. Off in a booth stowed away in the corner sit Mikko and Fingal jabbering away mid-conversation. Once they notice me, they stop and smile.

“Hey! There’s the man of the hour,” Mikko exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

“Not late, am I?” I grin, taking a seat beside him.

“Nope. Right on time to get some drinks,” Mikko starts smouldering at our hostess.

“With what money?” Fingal retorts with a glare.

Mikko blinks, struggling to come up with a defense. It seems he mustn't have anticipated Fingal to interrupt his attempt at flirting…

“Wha - With our money, of course,” he laughs, trying his best to make a smooth recovery.

“Aye. Which is why we’re not using my money to buy alcohol while a minor is here.”

Mikko doesn’t reply. Then again I suppose he doesn't need to, his confusion is written all over his face.

“Don’t tell me you forgot about Perci. He’ll be here any minute.”

“Oh! Fuck, that’s right. Him. Well obviously he won’t be getting any. And come on! You know how fast I can down a beer Fin! It’ll just be a few. Just a few rounds! Don’t be an ass.”

“Watch yourself Mikko, it's not polite to use such language in the presence of a lady.” I chime in, giving the hostess a polite smile.

“Oh I’ll show you what’s not polite-” Mikko says before slapping my head.

I try to hit him back, but he catches my hand before I can. Before we know it, we’re caught in a ridiculous slapping fight, both laughing our asses off.

“Not in a restaurant, not in a restaurant!” I speak through gasps, trying to end things.

Mikko obliges, tossing his hands back in his lap.

“A waiter will be right with you,” the hostess makes a case to look at each one of us except for Mikko before finishing her sentence, “... gentleman.”

Much to my surprise, Mikko doesn’t seem to be affected by that backhanded insult. Instead he kicks his knees up against the table and rests his head back, totally listless.

“Mikko, I would’ve thought you’d be more offended by that.”

“Huh? Why would I be offended at something when it’s true?”

“I’ll say. You and Al couldn’t be any more opposite. If there’s anything larger than the truth, the fact that you’re not a gentleman is way beyond it.”

“Exactly. And Mikko, you are aware of the fact that she was just a hostess, right? It isn’t even her job to serve us drinks.”

“I... “ Mikko laughs before leaning over the table again. “Listen. You two just don’t get it, do you? No. You don’t. Allow me to be the one who graces your palettes here, eh? Let me tell you what I’m gonna do. Okay? I’m gonna give you a tip. A piece of advice that will change your lives forever. All for free! You don’t even have to pay me. All you gotta do is listen. Got it? You both ready?”

Fingal and I share a look. I can tell we’re thinking along a similar vein of confused intrigue. We should most likely stop Mikko here, as whatever will come out his mouth won’t be anything good. However, we’re both too stunned to stop him, so…

Mikko beckons us to lean closer to him. Fin and I oblige. We’re almost touching heads when at last our dear mentor speaks once again, in a hushed voice. “It’s not about what you say. It’s about how you say it.”

…

There are no words. For about a minute straight Fingal and I are just staring at each other wearing the same expression that exudes two questions. ‘What the fuck? You’ve heard that too, haven’t you?’

Soon after that’s established and our shock subsides, we burst back to life. Fingal starts us off with, “Dammit Mikko. What the fuck? Where did you learn that? Who taught you that?”

“Some guys from the bar! Why, what’s wrong with it?”

“Which guys from the bar?”

“I don’t see how it-”

“Mikko. Which guys from the bar taught you this?” Fingal insists, a flash of anger showing in his eyes.

Mikko seems to notice this, and complies straight away. “Leo, John, Peter and Paul!”

Fingal buries his head in his hands. This sparks my curiosity. I haven’t heard these names before, but Fin clearly has.

“I can’t say I’m familiar with them, who might they be?”

“Bar friends-” Mikko starts, only for Fingal to finish for him.

“Jokesters. Jerks. Cheapskates always looking for a laugh. Assholes. Can’t wait to give them a piece of my mind.”

Mikko shrinks away from Fin. His head is turned away from me, but I don’t need to see it in order to know how stunned he is. It’s expressed flawlessly through the abnormal quietness of his voice. “Fin? What’s up, why’d you-”

“Because those dicks have been filling your head with shit like this every damn time I turned my back, Mikko! Dammit, this - this is why you always get rejected! Universe, I just wish you would’ve checked with me first about things like this. Not some strangers you barely even know, yet idolize them anyway.

You wanna know how you get a girl Mikko? Huh? You be nice. You be nice to them, you talk with them, and you listen. Compliments and flirting, all that helps, of course, but not forever! And you sure as hell can’t build a relationship strictly off of it. Okay? Standards and expectations vary from girl to girl, but with each and every single one there are a few things that you just have to do. Be nice, have respect, help them just for the sake of helping them! Don’t expect anything in return. Overall just - just be a decent fucking human being. That is how you get a girl.”

Mikko sits there, staring at his brother. I can’t help but do the same. In every respect, Fingal is right. Of course he is. It’s just… rare that we see him so worked up. I can hardly believe my eyes. I can hardly believe my ears, I… I can’t imagine how Mikko must be feeling.

Oh so gradually his head sinks down into his lap. He slumps over, and I swear I can see fractions of tears reflect the golden light radiating above us.

“Can’t believe I’m actually telling you this when you’re eighteen. Fucking eighteen,” Fingal scoffs, crossing his arms.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be. I’m not mad at you. This is my own fault, I blame myself.”

“Aw, come on man! That’s even worse,” pouts Mikko.

Fingal then turns to me with an abruptness that makes me jump. “Al, what’s up? You’ve been quiet for a while. You can back me up on this, can’t you?”

“I…” I force a chuckle to try and lighten the air some. “I don’t think that I’m currently in a position to give advice like this, to be honest with you.”

Fingal leans his elbows on the table, holding his head with one hand. “Why? Something happen with Maddie?”

“Oh, did it ever,” I shake my head.

—

Aand that's all you guys get for spoiler reasons! Lmao

(also because that's all I've written today but shhhh don't tell anyone)

Buut yeah. Legit I swear I didn't mean to go so hard on feminist Fingal 😂 I mean don't get me wrong here, he's absolutely right and I'm keeping it in. But still, the words just kept on coming and coming and we ended up with this

so

y'know

yeah

writing is super fun sometimes

Plus tbh, writing the part where Mikko is stroking his ego and whispers his ‘top secret trick to get women’, I was literally laughing out loud 😂 like he's just so wrong, and I love how horribly Mikko fails in life. It's just super funny to me, I enjoy it a lot.

Fingal, however, clearly does not enjoy it, lmao. Legit I had no clue he could be so protective until today! Especially over Mikko. I mean I always knew their dynamics, but today… it really hit home for me.

Go back and look at the line of dialogue Fingal says right after Mikko apologizes (a rare occurrence, actually).

It’s just one little piece of dialogue, barely a few sentences! Yet I feel like it hits you. You know? It reveals so much about his and Mikko’s vibes, their situation. A pair of brothers poor and orphaned by their birth parents and raised by their grandmother, who is only growing older and weaker each year. Fingal, the eldest, having to take responsibility often. He feels pressured to raise his little bro, and feels like he's failed when Mikko turns out to be the way he is. Ya know? It's just one little thing of dialogue but I feel like it makes you feel the pressure Fin has to bear in a situation like theirs. Even if it’s only for a moment.

And Mikko! While he does incite a lot of the comic relief in HTKAG, I wouldn’t call him a strict comic relief character because that's never what I had in mind while writing him. He and Fin actually play a vital role in the plot of the story! Much more than what I can currently reveal to y'all.

Buut anyways, I'll stop rambling now. I really hope you guys enjoyed this little excerpt just as much as I adored writing it :)

—

taglist (let me know if you want to be added or removed!): @vampire-with-a-pen @writingonesdreams @justyouraveragewriter @kazenokaori @dahladahlabills

[noritoshiikamo]

Hi, tee .... its totally unrelated to the blog problem..i had been eyeing an eyeshadow palette combo for a long time and they have slashed the price to like 40% more should i buy it ? I don't actually use makeup a lot and i don't need it unless i have to be at some sort of party or any formal stuff , daily life its a no no to makeup for me ....idk but being at party or anything of that sort now is not possible due to the pandemic and the situation just worsing day by day. So , should i buy it or let it marinate in the shopping cart for longer?

I am in dilemma. I buy a lot of stuff without giving it much thought . What should i do ? Should i buy it when i feel the need or now?

I feel guilty to troubling feel free to ignore me .

pls i love solving problem (although my method tend to be unconventional lmao)

okay tbh my rule of buying make up is to identify my needs whether it would be versatile enough for daily use, night out etc etc, the brand itself whether i like it or is it a new brand im trying, the product itself whether the products formula is typically what i use or is it a new formula and price lololololo

i dont buy palette much bcs i suck at blending but i tend to buy palette that i can use it for EVERYTHING like dinner, date, formal etc etc i recently purged all my make up and i only keep this peach palette from colourpop (cough cough prof geto u see my obsession with peach) and tbh colourpop is the only trusted brand i would buy my palette from be it on sale or not bcs the formula is just good like you can use it for eyeshadow, as eyeliner

plus take consideration on how big the palette is considering like you said we are in pandemic, you probably dont go out often means youll be using less of it, if the palette has too many colours and is kinda a lot, i feel like despite the 40% off it would be a waste bcs recommendation duration to keep eyeshadow is between 6 month- 2 years, shorter if its cream product, so take consideration on that you dont wanna waste your money on something by not using it right?

also another trick i use is to divide the amount of the pans with the price so you’ll get to see how much per pan youll be spending like my peach palette has 9 pans and it was $9 when i got it and when you calculate it is $1 per pan so i said its a bargain and more on affordable pricing 😂 to me i would only spend $1-2 per pan but thats just me being a cheapskate

but then, thats just me. if you really want it, and its been something youve been saving up or you have some extra disposable cash, i say just buy it because you deserve to splurge something for yourself. you deserve a little something and in this rough pandemic, sometimes a tiny parcel could make you happy, does that make sense? i tend to bottle down my depression by making materialistic purchases LMAOOOOO but if youre cheapskate like me i tend to find other cheaper brand thats a dupe to the palette i want, just google “ brand name palette you want + dupe” theres a lot of dupes out there and thats how manage my money with make up bcs im obsessed with buying lipsticks and not wearing them much and they ended up expiring

its also a good trick but be wary if u keep using the “im spending my money to treat myself” youll end up like me and my nonstop needs to buy anime merch dkdkdjkdkdj

[okayoonoh]

XIAOJUN’S FAMILY

a/n: here’s xiaojun’s little family! i hope you guys like it!

also, here is where you can find all things nct dad related! go and check it out!

XIAO DEJUN

he has one kid as well as one on the way! his son’s name is xiao zhangwei and he is in the 4th generation of kids!

XIAO ZHANGWEI: >> as a baby <<

oh, where to begin

i honestly feel like zhangwei would be such a pretty baby

like you know how like all babies look like wrinkley aliens when they come out?

zhangwei didn’t look like one at all

he was a legitimate angel

he honestly was a rather quiet baby

like he had strong lungs and such

but he there were only a handful of times that he cried super duper loud

all in all tho, he was a rather quiet baby

(appreciate these times while they last)

he looked like xiaojun from the start

omgomgomg

ok so while you were pregnant with zhangwei

xiaojun for sure sang for him like at least one song per night

and like zhangwei knew his dad’s voice

like while you were resting right after labor

xiaojun would just be holding zhangwei and singing a bit

and that was the first time zhangwei ever smiled :,)

bc he recognized his dad’s beautiful voice and could hear it clearly now

xiaojun started crying right then and there and kept singing to him

tbh, that’s one of the quickest ways to calm down zhangwei

if he’s been crying for a long time

just give him to xiaojun

and the second zhangwei realizes that he’s in his dad’s arms and can hear his dad’s voice?

he’s calm

zhangwei has been enamored by music from the second he opened his eyes

omg tbh tho

zhangwei is like eli lee

in which he has a severe case of rbf

but like when he smiles

he looks like toothless

(especially when he smiled when he legitimately lacked teeth)

tbh tho

zhangwei is an actual angel

socially? zhangwei was pretty okay

he didn’t prefer you or xiaojun

zhangwei loved equally :,)

>> as a child <<

y’know, he started as a quiet baby

but smth happened and now?

he’s LOUD

so freaking LOUD

he sings 24/7

zhangwei doesn’t seem like he has an off switch when it comes to singing

it was endearing at first but now you and xiaojun are lowkey over it lol

he’s best friends with hendery’s oldest daughter, wong xiuying

xiuying is her dad but in girl form

and her crackheadedness is what keeps them as best friends lol

she’s like one of the only people in the world that can keep up with zhangwei and his endless singing

like when zhangwei is super hyper

xiuying is right up there with him and matches his hype lol

omg ok imagine

so like hendery and xiaojun wanted to take their kids out for the day

and they let them choose where they would go

without missing a beat, xiuying and zhangwei both choose karaoke right away

xiaojun and hendery take them there while laughing the entire time lol

tbh tho, everyone is shocked with how many songs they know

like they know songs that hendery and xiaojun barely know

zhangwei and xiuying for sure get a perfect score regardless of the song

tbh, xiuying knows zhangwei like the back of her hand

like even tho xiuying is super active and such

she does a really good job of taking care of zhangwei and honestly knows him the best out of everyone

like before zhangwei even voices what he wants

she already has it lol

they’re such sweet best friends :,)

zhangwei for sure inherited his dad’s thicc brows

his brows are the most expressive part of his face whenever he sings

he for sure knows how to play guitar and piano

zhangwei also inherited his dad’s weird palette for somethings

like eating the spicy chili sauce on cheese?

that’s zhangwei’s favorite snack ever

>> as a teen/adult <<

he becomes a vocalist lmao

i mean like i wanna say that he would choose a different path than xiaojun

but i mean

zhangwei is just such a good singer

a voice like that shouldn’t go to waste

i def feel like he was singing in passing

like he was just singing as he was going somewhere

and someone street casted him like that lol

i also feel like he would lay down all of the groundwork

like they would want him to debut in a group and such

and he KNOWS that he’s the best vocalist the company has to offer

lmao he would seem v v cocky or arrogant

but if you look at it, he’s just trying to make the best out of the company and their offers

to be 100% honest

i see him as the lead singer of a band

not a kpop band

like a band band

like day6

zhangwei would play guitar and he would be the lead singer

and he loves all of his bandmates and such

like he honestly vibes so well with them

i don’t think he would really want to be a solo artist

bc i feel like zhangwei is a very social person

and like would love to be around his friends and vibe with them everyday

their band can do all concepts tbh

from super angsty and hard rock

to the most heart wrenching and beautiful ballands

whenever they do part switches

zhangwei always ends up with the drums 

and he honestly has no idea how to play them lmao

like he doesn’t struggle at all with guitar

or piano

or bass

but drums?

for some reason, he just can’t learn them and he doesn’t know why

everyone finds this super hysterical lol

his favorite concepts are the soft ones

like he really love writing super duper cute love songs

he’s for sure the shortest member teehee

that’s why he’s the lead singer tho

they position him in the center and the front

so that he appears just as tall as his other members

or they put him on a platform lol

anyway

xiuying still knows him better than anyone

they’re def not together tho

but they are still best friends!

she for sure has the hots for one of his bandmates tho lolol

anytime zhangwei invites her to a concert, her first question is “Is *insert bandmates name* gonna be there?” (it’s the drummer lmao)

tbh, zhangwei could care less if they get together lmao

and xiuying and his bandmate just naturally get together, it’s not forced or instigated by anyone other than themselves

lmao i’m off topic

so basically, zhangwei ended up in a band as the lead vocals and guitar and honestly? it suits him.

---

i lowkey really vibe with zhangwei, ngl!

i hope you guys liked it and go and check out my wips/ideas! lmk which one(s) you’re excited to read!

requests are open! don’t be shy, hmu bb!

- amy <3

[x-ximenas]

Love Means Trouble: Chapter 3

Prompt: Hurricane by Halsey, which you can find in this playlist.

Pairing: OC/Nikki Sixx

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, drug consumption, mentions of smut  and my terrible grammar and punctuation remember English’s not my first language.

Word Count: 3,862 words

A/N: I’m really really sorry for taking this long, but the holidays came around and my family really forces us to socialize so I barely had any time to do this, I wrote this in three days and I’m not sure how well it turned out tbh, but I guess it’s good, yeah it’s good Also, if you liked this bit, I’d love to hear some comments! If you’d like to be added to a taglist for upcoming parts comment, dm me, ask me… just communicate with me!

// Prologue // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

———————————————————————————————————–

“One drop on a teaspoon, followed by a second, then a third... So many, so little but they all fell until the small utensil was on the border of starting to spill.”

“One teaspoon, two teaspoons... Drink the oil, lick the oil; it's expensive don't waste it, use it, don't abuse it and taste the velvet of the substance.”

“Lay down in bed sweet Circe and let your body work, breathe in and out, relax or your trip might take a different path. Ignore the ticking clock, I know it gets you nervous to think how long will this time last, so don't think about time for it will only pass and before you know it nausea will settle in the pit of your stomach to kickstart the ‘dream’ as you like to call it.”

“Go on, run to the bathroom, empty what little is left in your stomach, the purge of the soul begins... Follow the path shown or pain will come through and ruin your travel in search of creativity.”

“Be careful Circe, only one thing can stain your clothes and the dirt of your soul won't be it, its dark colour a bad omen, so stay careful before your heart picks up, your hands sweat and you lose perception of yourself.”

“Lock the front door, you know only few have keys that could open that door, those few characters well-aware of your rendez-vous, they won't get scared; but make sure to leave the crumpled up note on the coffee table, let's avoid conflicts.”

“Lay down on your bed Circe, before it starts, before colours dance in your head and behind your closed eyelids. Take deep breaths as sleep takes you as its prisoner.”

"Is it hot in here? Is the light too light? Too bright?"

“Focus! Keep your eyes closed as your melting body fades away, ignore the darkness of your eyes, colours will start to play, figures, situations.”

"What are you trying to say? What will be shown?"

“Paint.”

———————————————————————————————————–

Circe woke up in a cold sweat, her body uncomfortably laying down on her floor right next to the couch, but she didn't feel sore. Her hands travelled to her face, it felt strangely moldable and soft and although she couldn't see her eyes she could swear that her pupils had taken over the irises. Then her hands travelled to her hair, it felt white, smelt like sunrise and tasted like pain her whole body reacting to it with disgust, making her hands feel heavy as they fell to her sides.

In an out of body experience she saw herself rise from the floor, her legs wobbly and her arms in constant motion, incapable of staying still. She was aware she was still under the influence of what she had taken, one of the clearest tell-tale was when she glanced up at the clock and it melted off the wall in a way Dahli would have been envious about and when she stared out the window she could swear that when her finger covered the sun the sky darkened and constellations appeared.

“Paint” a voice whispered in an almost commanding voice, it was her voice, her own command.

The one-worded sentence bounced from wall to wall, creating an echo in her head that was only quieted when her hands shoot up to cover her ears and her eyes closed shut.

Once she opened one eye to peek at her surroundings she faced a woman, it was the same nymph from her tattoo -Anthusae, a flower nymph, Circe recalled from their previous encounters- and she caressed Circe's face in a comforting matter. Anthusae’s body was naked, barely covered by the fowers that bloomed around her; her smile was shy but had the devil hidden in it as she pulled Circe to the "paint" room by the hair.

As the door slammed shut behind Circe her eyes looked down to the floor. When sober the room's floor looked as if a lot of accidents had occurred, for it was littered by dry paint stains, but when Circe found herself in her current state the usually static colours moved in alluring waves, a symphony of shades that could lull her to work. This time, the colours were matte and dark and moved to reveal a blurry picture, a silhouette of a man his only distinctive feature being a pair of sharp olive coloured eyes. The man smiled a wide smile, it looked rather strange on him, out of place.

Circe shook her head in an attempt to get rid of the image dancing on her feet. She begged for the return of the vibrant colours that usually appeared in front of her and after a few moments, they entered the scene, Nikki’s smile fading to the back of her brain. 

Circe fell to the ground as her legs moved too fast for her body to follow, her arm reached out to the forgotten canvas on the back of the room, hidden under a white sheet.

Placing the canvas in her easel her hand mindlessly grabbed her painting palette, squirting small blobs of paint on the surface and as her dominant hand reached for a brush she was no longer in control of her body -was she ever truly?- her hands moved carefully in coordination with the colours presented in her mind, trying not to lose focus as voices whispered in her ears -attempting to pull her to the dark, show her more pictures, painful pictures- but the colours were too alluring, too captivating so her eyes and hands stayed focused on the task at hand. Then, her brain shut down. 

———————————————————————————————————–

When Circe finally woke up, her body felt limp and worn out, a feeling of relaxation settled on her body as she laid on the floor of her "paint" room, her eyes focused on the painting before her.

A sigh of relief left her, the painting turned out looking good, the strokes weren't harsh and looked meticulously controlled. The picture before her resembled the active and lively streets of LA, bright neon lights with transiting cars, people running on the sidewalk or even running to the other side of the road; the colours had been amped on saturation and the image looked blurred out, there weren't any distinctive shapes, just lights.

Finally standing up from the ground, Circe headed to the window wondering what time it was. She recalled from her daze that the Sun was still very much present in the sky but she also remembered stars and the dark indigo coloured sky. As her head peeked out the window and the hot breeze of LA hit her face she saw where sky and earth met and how the dark blue shade the night sky was known for started to warm up from the soft caresses of the sun - how long have I been out? She wondered.

Circe's eyes never left the horizon, enjoying the view the rising sun provided -it was so strange to get some downtime in such an active city and she was enjoying it. She wasn’t sure how long had she been just standing there staring at the horizon, but her legs started to give up on her from how tired her muscles felt.

Circe parted from the open window and headed to her room, deciding it was time to face her reflection, aching to amuse herself with her looks, paint all over her body and clothes, her face also stained from paint she ad accidentally rubbed there when attempting to remove hair from her face. As she stared at herself in the mirror she noticed that the picture she had painted of her own image was staring back at her with a soft smile and tired eyes still, her hand reached for a cotton ball damp on some oil she had noticed helped when removing paint of her hands and face -sometimes even hair.

After rubbing off the last remnants of paint off her cheek Circe fell in a small trance, flashing images of a kind smile and green eyes kept popping in her head, making a shiver run down her spine. She was well aware that all that she saw and felt were the effects that came with peyote consumption, she knew it liked playing games with one's head, some people swore they saw visions presented as cryptic messages and other's said that through this plant they faced their greatest fears and traumas. She knew the story behind this plant's use, she had been told that Native Americans used it as a way to connect to higher entities, their deities in search of spiritual guidance; Circe on the other hand usually just used it as a bridge for creativity, showing her pretty colours and awe-inspiring pictures.

Was Nikki an awe-inspiring image to her? The thought made Circe shiver once more, she felt as if her resolve was crumbling down, especially after his appearance in her head that night, but ever since their last encounter she had to constantly remind herself to keep her distance, not only did she knew of his reputation but she was enjoying the push and pull, she always did, she was just scared of the outcome this time, never had a boy appeared on her trip and she had never been so affected by someone, no one made her this reactive, no one but Nikki...

Circe's thumb went up to her face, stopping a drop of Jack from tumbling down her lip, alcohol wasn’t inexpensive and she was damn sure she wasn't going to waste any part of what she had paid for. She offered the bartender -Luke- a kind smile as she yelled over the music:

"I'll pay later!" Circe leaned on the counter offering him a wink and a small wave, then she dropped her red leather jacket by him, Luke just laughed as he placed the jacket behind the bar knowing what the brunette meant.

Circe readjusted both her black sequin tube top and her leather pants as she made her way to the dance floor, ruffling her hair just a smidge to give the messy waves some volume.

The music was loud and easy to move along to, her hips swaying from side to side unconsciously as Circe let go of her inhibitions, deciding to just enjoy herself as she sang along to the songs being played by that night’s DJ. This wasn’t her favourite kind of music, usually more accustomed to rock, punk or pop-rock, but when she decided to just have fun anything would do.

Then a pair of hands tightly wrapped in leather slipped around her waist, tugging her to meet their body and as she turned around to tell the person off she was met with raven hair and green eyes mainly covered by how blown out his pupils had become, Nikki.

Circe's face twitched with annoyance as she stared at the man in front of her, although she was facing a man she "knew", she never enjoyed being pulled around like that. Her eyebrows were furrowed and one of them was starting to rise, not in inquiry but discomfort when a light went off in her head.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Nikki Sixx?" Circe teased, her hands trailing up from Nikki's chest to the back of his neck, lightly pulling on his hair.

“Well, well, well, if it isn't my favourite groupie” Nikki answered, unable to use her name because he was yet to learn it.

"What brings the big rock star here?" She questioned, her head tilting to the side a pout pulling at her lips before it twisted to a mocking smile.

Nikki rolled his eyes at her playful teasing, his tongue darting out his mouth to wet his lips, then he pulled her closer to him, their hips meeting and chest brushing as he leaned in to whisper in her ear: "You..."

Circe's face grew amused, barely being able to keep her laugh contained as she pushed him back, attempting to put some space between them. But, soon enough she broke character, a laugh slipping from between her lips, her hand barely making it in time to cover her mouth.

"Oh fuck, sorry, fuck -another laugh escaped her- is just that, you want me to believe that cheesy shit?" Circe yelled over the loud music, hoping that it would reach Nikki, who just snorted out a laugh.

“Sorry, sorry, my bad” he answered, putting his hands up in defeat, an honest smile present on his lips, making one form on Circe’s face as well.

“Well, it was nice seeing you, but I gotta go, so…” Circe said, walking away from the scene, a smile still very much present in her face, she had been entertained enough for the night, that one simple sentence was enough for her to live off until their next encounter, but Nikki wasn't having any of it.

As Circe made her way through the club, stopping first at the bar to drop enough money to cover her bill, asking Luke for her jacket and then for a smoke outside, Nikki trailed behind her, not quite finished with her that night.

"You want one?" She asked Nikki once they both stepped outside the club, but she never really stopped to look at him, her step never faltering as she headed to the back of the club, where she had parked her car, not really expecting him to follow her.

He didn't answer either, just taking the cigarette and the lighter from her hands as he walked behind her. No one bothered to fill in the silence that lingered between them, both busy doing their own stuff, Circe was pulling her hair up in a messy ponytail and Nikki, well, he was staring at Circe, his eyes trailing downwards, as usual, his gaze lingered longer in her sleeve tattoo before following the path her waist and hips carved for him, the leather material of her pants tight against her skin outlining the roundness of her ass. Nikki shook his head, images of how her naked body might look like flooding his brain, the taste of her a thing he craved.

A vibrant red colour shiny under the low lighting of the street made the sportive black lines of the car pop out also making Circe’s car easy to distinguish from others, it truly was a beautiful car.

Circe leaned on the hood of the car watching Nikki intently as he approached her slowly, the cigarette she had handed him hanging loosely on his lips. "Call Me" by Blondie sounded in the background and for a moment Circe felt as if she was in a movie and that song was part of the soundtrack, fitting to their situation, almost too fitting.

"Color me your color, baby. Color me your car" Circe sang to Nikki in a low voice, dropping her cigarette to the asphalt, her hand reaching out to pull him by his shirt once he was within reach.

"Color me your color, darling I know who you are” Circe kept on singing, her face angled upwards never breaking eye contact with the raven-haired boy in front of her as she removed the cigarette from his lips throwing it away next to her's. “Come up off your color chart I know where you're comin' from"

Nikki appeared to be entertained, enjoying the soft sound of her voice as he pressed himself closer to her his hips taking the space between her parted legs, his index finger coming up to her chin before his thumb trailed the shape of her lower lip pulling downwards in soft motion.

"Call me, on the line, call me, call me any, anytime" Circe continued as Nikki coaxed her to stand up straight, his hand wrapping around her waist, tugging her forward their chest and hips meeting, no one considering on moving and soon enough the music truly became white sound, ignored and placed in the background.

Circe knew what was going to happen next, she could see the movie replaying in her head, Nikki would lean in, his gloved hand on her face pulling her forward as if to meet her lips, but then he'll stop with a smirk in his lips and mischief on his eyes. It was the same old situation, and she was willing to change it this time.

So her hand reached up to his hair, tugging at the strands on the back of his neck, her other hand pressed to his chest, slowly drawing figures as it lowered itself to the edge of his pants. Circe's lips brushed against Nikki's cheek as her face inched closer to his ear, her fingers playing with the button of his skinny black jeans.

"What do you want me to do, babe?" She questioned, using Nikki's own words against him, her breath hot in his ear and her teeth barely scraping the sensitive skin of his earlobe.

Circe pulled the skin between her teeth before lowering to bite at the pulse point just below his earlobe. Nikki bit down a shiver, a grunt replacing the motion as one of his hands moved down to grab at her ass before slapping it, earning a chocked up moan from Circe.

"Are you sure you should be asking the questions? I see you're more desperate than you appear to be" Nikki noted, his sentence felt cut short from the lack of name usage, but still, he kept on with the game, pulling his face away from hers to gauge her reaction, but there was none, other than her smirk only growing larger.

"Mmmh, I wouldn't be so sure about that, Nikki" She coaxed as her hand opened the button to his jeans just to place her hand down the clothing, her fingers lightly grazing his already hardened dick.

"Don't play with me like that" Nikki answered a demanding undertone to his sentence and his voice, but Circe didn't really care about either of those things, it only fueled the devious flame that burned her body and eyes.

"Or what?" She answered, her tongue placed between her teeth as her smile grew taunting, but said smile broke when Nikki's hand reached up to her neck choking her only slightly.

"You want to know don't you, babe? You want to feel what I can do to you, huh?" He answered, his voice rough as he held her by the neck.

Circe's mouth was agape, her pride being the only thing that prevented her from moaning out, the pressure of his hand fogged her mind heavily as the cold of the leather gloves rubbed on her skin. Despite her hazy state her hand still on him, hot on his skin as she pulled it out of his jeans, resting it at his exposed navel.

"You're one to talk, you're the one with a hard-on here, babe" she muttered out a laugh falling from her lips. Nikki huffed and removed his hand from Circe's neck.

Nikki adjusted his jeans and turned to leave before Circe mocked: "You're just going to leave like that? No kiss?"

Nikki turned to her and noted how Circe's face was lit up with fake innocence, he approached her once more, his lips neared her's as his hand moved from the side of her neck, applying the slightest of pressures as it trailed down, tracing the outline of her collarbone and the edge of her tattoo; then, his hand brushed over her breast, his touch teasing and slow as goosebumps covered her chest; finally, his hand stopped at the front of her pants and despite the number of layers between them -from his gloves to her underwear- his touch was hot on her, a knot forming on her lower abdomen craving for release.

Nikki huffed out a laugh, his breath hot on her lip as he stated with a sly tone: "no."

Circe's body warmed up from the mere memory, the feeling of Nikki's warm skin still very much present in her subconscious, but she had to take her time away from him, she had to rebuild strengths if she wanted to keep her game up.

“Man, I desperately need a cold shower” Circe mumbled to herself, her fingers running through her knotted up hair.

Circe removed all her clothes in her room, walking naked to her bathroom and just as she was about to get in her shower to get the water ready her reflection caught her attention once more, it appeared as if High Circe had gotten bored and designed a new tattoo on her right shoulder just under her collarbone. Running back to her room she got a hold of her black eyeliner, filling in where it needed to be, adding detailing as well; then she got a hold of her camera, snapping a picture of the drawing before it faded with the shower.

As she headed to her bathroom, her head turned to her living room, the sight of her record player making her detour from her original destination -again. She searched through her vinyls, settling for her most recent buy, “Mask” by Bauhaus. Finally, Circe got to her bathroom, the sound of “Hair of The Dog” fell into the background as she turned the water on, the cold droplets of water making their appearance soon enough and so, Circe jumped underneath them; the pressure that they hit her skin with was comforting enough, helping at easing the leftover tension that resided on her back and shoulder muscles coaxing a small sigh of content to escape her.

Circe started to hum along to the songs playing, trying to divert her thoughts from the owner of the most captivating pair of olive-coloured eyes she had ever seen. It was a hard task to keep up with, her mind naturally heading his direction making Circe make a disgruntled sound; she sped up the showering process and just as she finished showering as the side A of the album ended, she dried herself as quickly as possible, wrapping a towel around the top of her chest, heading to the record player to turn the vinyl to its side B before she dressed up. The sound of “Kick in the Eye” flooded small apartment, the lyrics naturally falling from her lips as she moved to the beat the bass marked. The song faded to an end once she got to her closet, she pulled out a pair of black high-waisted shorts, an old ripped shirt Circe had cut into a crop top thrown at her bed next to a pair of panties.

As she finished putting all of her clothes on and while lacing up her boots a knock pulled her out of her thoughts, a frown took over her face. She walked to the door, not caring to yell over the music to tell the person at the door that she was heading their way, she just walked there. And without taking a look through the window by the door nor through the peephole she opened the door, freezing at her spot as her eyes met his.

“Well, hello Circe...”

// Next Chapter //

[og-doubletrouble-kinnie]

SPOP Season 4 notes

Spoilers obvi

Gonna be a bit different from my s3 notes, as I’m p much just gonna liveblog stuff here- Since I dont wanna spoil my friends... Rip 😔

Ep 1:

Mom: Icecream cake :-D me, sobbing: Mom I love you

Every time my mom does something I cry. I love and miss her sm

YALL JUST HURTIN PERFUMA LIKE THIS-

WHY CAN THE SWORD BE A MOP-

Ya know I always thought Hordaks red teeth were fuckin weird af

GRANDMA GRANDMA GRANDMA GRANDMA

GO GET MY GIRLFRIEND YOU UGLY KITTY

EMILYYYYYYYYY AWAAAA

They really out here just reusing the princess prom outfits huh?

Really though I swear if Entrapta doesnt come back I’ll scream. You cant just trade in my beautiful amasing gf for me. I know I’m great but I swear.

Rip Auntie Angella.... 😔

I wasn’t even there for the corrination- I kinda feel bad for that but... I was alittle busy... With somethin- Hell if I know what.

HELL YEAH QUEEN GLIMMERRR

Oh hot diggity Catra-

Look I may not like her but I can really respect her tactics....

EP 2:

Okay what does Perfuma have against the crimson wastes- Hopefully its (Rightful) fear!

Oh nooo the gooooo

One does not simply call Adora soft

Aweeee Perfuma and Bow bonding...

Perfuma is cacti-phobic hahahaha

O.O Wheres the ship

Huntara eats sand and theres nothing you can do about it.

OOOO NEW TOWN NEW TOWN NEW TOWN

MEMEMEMEMEMMEMEMEMEMMEMEMEMEMMEMEMEMEME

AH YES MY FIRST WORDS ARE BEING SCORPIA AND FLIRTING WITH CATRA. HOW FITTING.

God im so dramatic I love it

Perfuma Im so proud of you bb

Hot take? Perfuma x Huntara

AWEEE IM SO HAPPYYYYYYYY

Honestly being Catra was always fun

Ep 3:

Pajamas Catra? Catra without her headband? Wild shit. Wild shit.

She cute tho ngl

Oh hecc its time to fuck with the rebels-

I s2g its rly lookin like my tl may just be flip flopped on which side I helped- Idk... its only ep 3 jfkbgf

Wittle moth society... so cute...

Flutterina... Adorable

SHE RA CAKE

The moth town leader is adorable. Precious old lady. I love her. her design is amazing. 10/10 I love her

Wait what-

Ohhhh my god what happened-

Catra if you dont start appreciating Scorpia right this second I swear to god I will appreciate her myself.

Flutterina is so precious. All her fangirling...

Are we gonna explorer the whole.. reaction catra has every time someone mentions the Portal??

MAGICAL SACRED BOND TIME

FLUTTERINA IS A PRECIOUS BABY AND I LOVE HERRR

SCORPIAAAA SIS GET OVER HERE LEMME HUG UUUU

Oh....

OH

O H

OKAY

I AM ON BOARD WITH THIS

Ep.4

Spinerella and nettossa are precious 100%

Okay but I’m right. tiny cute and pink. I didnt even catch it. I done fooled myself.

Am cutie

GRANDMAS BA C K BOIISSSSS

god I love shadow weaver. I miss her sm

B O BB N O

OKAY SPOT ON BO IMPRESSION!

IM SO CUUUTTTEEE

Yaaayyyyy Catras having fun!

WEAVER LIKES DAISIES. PRECIOUS. AWA. GWANDMAAAA

She makes great bait and u know it.

Oh no are the gfs fighting-

Catra legit thought glimmer was me I love this-

CATRA WHY DO YOU KNOW WHAT GLITTER TASTES LIKE-

..... Okay literally as I type thet I get mems of her eating glitter okay cool

Ohhh That was cool-

Hey Catra dont hide your grateful attitude you dick

God I love these girlfriends

LET WEAVER BE GOOD ADORA

This is cute

Ep 5

Kyle you precious little boy

Oh are they finally gonna develop these three?

Ditzy light hope is cute light hope

SHES ALL SMILEYYYY

I love Kyle launie and roheleo... Precious

“I made a crystal :-D”

“I know what will help!” “no dont-”

Kyle I love you

“Oh trust me the information is never gonna load for you.”

Lookit these... three siblings.... Blessed babes

COMPUTER MOM HAS EMOTIONS

AWA

KYLE BABY NOOO

HARD SQUINTING AT LIGHT HOPE

EP 6

Oh boi Scoria episode here we go

God I love that she kept Emily....

Scorpia is too bright and cheery for the hoarde. Redeem her damnit

Hecc I hate that Im being so mean to the best friend squad but oooog its so fun to watch

Emily’s personality is so cuuuteee -w-

Emily scared of Catra.. precious

SCORPIA YOU DESERVE SO MUCH BETTER-

I wanna hug her so bad

Hehehehehehe >:)

Damnit Bo, ruining my work-

CRYING

Scorpias entrapta impression tho

SCORPIA YOU TOUCH THAT GARNET GOD DAMNIT

Im gonna cry, emilys recordings....

GOD I LOVE MY GIRLFRIEND-

..... Whats goin on with the Garnet...

LET GLIMMER BE DARK

THE GREATEST HUGS, SCORPIA. GREATEST HUGS

Emily youre so smart.

SCORPIA FINALLY KNOWIN SHES WORTH BETTER HELL YEAH YOU GO SISTER

Catra rly needs a hug tbh

OHHHH HELL YESSSSSS

God I wanna know more about the scorpion kingdom....

Ep 7

Mermista you are too happy when holding everyone in a room against their will

OH OKAY THAT WOULD EXPLAIN WHY

SPOILERS MERMISTA

Ohhh hohoho I am lovin this story~

Shadow weaver bein an embarassing mom to Adora, adorable

Adora was absolutely suspicious of Weaver in my tl 100% Sure I made her more trusted, but Adora is stubborn

BFDJKGBFJKD ENTRAPTAS HELPERS ARE IN THE CASTLE

Ooooooo This is a great ep...

Ohh Im having fun arent I~

Ohhhhhhh Shiiiiiiiiiiit Rip selenious

Ep8

I hope yallre keepin an eye on me, Or I’ll get out >:-)

Awee depressed baby :-(

SHANTYYYY

OH THIS IS PRECIOUS

Seahawk this is a terrible idea....

This better be a musical episode

BDHJFBD WRONG KIDNAPPERS

I love depressed mermista

Return of the she-mop!

Oooo seahawk past....

Awee Catra misses Scorpia

And is finally realizin shes gone

O u c h poor Seahawk

OW GLIMMER

HELL YEAH MERMISTA

“A SEAGULL TOLD ME!”

Oooo Catra, a natural born killer~

I love bein able to finally see Octavia in action

Low key musical Ep, hell yesssss

I already shipped mermista and seahawk but this ep... Is just makin me ship it more....

SCORPIA HAS MOMS

The fact that it took this long for Catra to finally go to scorpias room and check on her

How the fuck do the boats work

Ep 9

OHHHHH Razz gets the sheras mixed up thats honestly so cute-

Razz... I lov u

I love her refrences to the old charas

Razzzz awe precious.. The first time...

Oooo I love seein Mara

AWEE LIGHT HOPE SOFT FOR MARA

Good I feel bad for Razz tbh??? hoppin back and forth between Sheras

MARAS TRANSFORMATIONNNNN

God she looks so much better than Adora holy fuck

NOOO RAZZ DONT CRYYY

HOLY FUCKING SH I WHAT THE F U CFDHFDJBKJGBSKED

Hot fucking damn I didnt expect this what the sh iiiiiii

I STILL WANNA HUG RAZZ-

Ep 10

DAMN IM SO COLD XD

That fuckin POOF

PLEAAASSEE LET ME AND WEAVER BOND PLZ I WANT MY GRANDMAAAAA

Let Frosta nap 2020

SCORPIAAAA

DONT SNEAK UP BEHIND SCORPIA

Daaaamn Catra... Go take a nap hun, you look terrible

Oh sweetie.....

Glimmer please you didn’t see what they saw.

Aaaannnnd Okay the queenliness is goin to her head cool

SCORPIA BABYYYY

Caaaatttrrraaaaa

LOOPY LOOP BETRAYAL

God I love them learning the ship

FBHJSDBFSJHVFD OH MY GOD FAKE TEARS

SHE DID IT IM SO PROUD OF HERRR

Ep11

Eeeeee I hope they find my blessed gorl.....

Whats swifty hearin..

OH SHIT SHERA DOESNT WORK-

I cant believe the first ones just have a fucking dump

MICHA MICHAM ICHA ITS MY UCLE I KNOW IT

HELL YEAH BAEBEEEEEE

I KNEW HE WAS ALIVE

Sweet my uncles just a lil crazy haha

MICHA I LOV YOU

Awaaaaaa

Glimmer loses one parent and gains the other. Girl only gets one parent at a time. Hahahaha

The world has to nerf her lmao

Hell yeah hes cool!

Okay cool proof that Lighthope just wants to activate the weapon

Guys just tell him she’s a teenager omfg

Hoooooly hecc

NOOOOOOOO aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

SHE RAAAAA

MY WIIIFFFEEEE

AAAAAAAA

YAASSSS

EEEEE

Ohhhh Scorpia is the key.....

Interesting.......

Ep 12

EVEN WEAVER IS CONFUSED

You bet you ass Ive escaped bitches >:)

-cries- I’ve missed my wife

Awaaa she never changes!

Someone hug Catra I s2g

DT nooooooo

SHE SHOWS NO CONNECTION BECAUSE YOU TOOK IT WEAVER-

I adore Weaver in this season- Who am I kidding, I adore Weaver in every season

THe hoarde is led by two kids who just need some tender love and care

God Ive missed her...

SWEETIE WHY ARE YOU SO CHEERY ALL THE TIME- AAA I LOVE YOU

squinty

Uhhhggggg I now hate that I remember having a runestone of my own

Tho I DO wanna know what kinda powers Scorpia will get....

Sweetie no non onononononononononononononoono

BABY NOOO NO NO O NONONONONONONONONONO

IM GONNA CRY SHE BETTER BE OKAY-

YESS BABY

AWAAA ENTRAPTA I LOVE YOUUUU

bdhsvfbjskbfd I can only do her hair bjkvfdbgfkd

OWO IM SO SMART YET SO DUMB

HORDAK TEARS?!

Hehehehehe YES I HELPED GLIMMER

Ep 13

Nobodies followin Catra anymore lmao

Ohhhh shit Catras gonna d i e

Rip in pieces Hordak

Ohhh shiiiiiiii

SEAHAWK LIL HEART EYES

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

I love callin Catra out ohhhh my g o d

OOoooooo Lightning!

I gotta question that rn Glimmer...

Damnit Hordak aint dead...

Ohhh hecc hecc hecc hecc

OH SHIT THE SWORD-

Ya rly just teleport a whole room like that-

I like horde prime-

His eyes are cool and his palette is so much nicer aaaa

Fffffuck

Fave season so far

And not just cause I’m finally in it xD

Expect more posts when the mems really start pouring... Gotta figure out how all this changed in my TL since it DEFINITELY wasn’t just like this-

[percymakesgamesnow]

Visual art is hard but I'm harder

I spent the last few days working on my drawing skills. Currently my art is --as the french say-- "really bad", and someday I'd like for it to be passable-to-great. I really enjoy drawing, and while I get a lot out of it it's just not something I'm good enough at to be willing to put out into the world disclaimer-free. So, in the interest of someday being a control freak GameDev who designs every aspect of her game, I figure I should start working on these skills now rather than be an expert programmer and ready to ship my game suddenly realizing it looks like doodoo.

"But Percy," you ask, lip trembling feebly, "how do you plan on doing this? What steps are you taking to summit this next great artistic peak? How can you, a subpar drawm'n possibly garner this remaining skill to toil Wagner-like and create your masterpiece???" Your voice breaks slightly and I turn in my chair. As I stand, your gaze scrolls up as though searching apartment windows for your greatest fear. All of a sudden, I tower before you, and I squat down into a frog pose to meet your eye level. Creaking forward, I whisper in your ear: "Y o u T u b e t u t o r i a l s."

So far I've done Saultoon's Aseprite Beginner's Tutorial which was super helpful, and I made these lovely little donuts :)

The process involved using all the main tools in Aseprite, as well as changing colour palettes. I did my first batch in the default palette, the second one as Minecraft colours, and to challenge myself I did the third one with GameBoy colours. In the end, Saultoon requested that I shade the big donut? which meant I had to break out of the GB's four colours and also I have no idea how to shade so that made it tricky. I'm proud of the donuts though I think they're cute! Pixel art is great because my hand motor skills are poopy bad and that's not a barrier here. Oh, I also bought Aseprite. I made this decision bc after much research I concluded that it was the cheapest and had the cutest logo.

I do want to get better at art theory stuff though, which is why I also started working my way through Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain, a book that I bought probably six years ago and cracked open twice. Holy shoot though it's such a good book. The writing is really engaging, if somewhat pretentious, and the content is succinct and inspiring. The first exercise was to draw a self portrait which I'm actually quite proud of. I showed it to two of the best visual artists I know and both said it looks "recognizably like me" which is huge tbh that's what I was going for. I'm not gonna post it here just because I don't feel like putting my recognizable mug on the internet today, but I probably will someday to show the improvement working through the book. Oh, also, the self portrait was apparently supposed to take half an hour, but I accidentally spent 3+ hours on it. This ate into my learning-code time, but it's all good bc I learned I really enjoyed trying to nail the details. The next exercises I'm definitely gonna set a timer for, because I think it's important to churn out lots of product when you're learning a new skill rather than being a perfectionist, but it wasn't wasted time and it made me really really excited for the day I'm good at this stuff. I genuinely think that once it's not such a chore I'll be drawing constantly. I love drawing bro oh my god lemme at em as soon as my hands do what my brain says to do and my brain can focus on understanding even the most basic principles of shading. Shading so hard y'all. I did an art class in high school and I've had art friends explain it to me like a thousand times and I just, , , , do not understand how to visualize light.

Anyways I'm off! I think today I'm gonna work on another project that requires me to draw and call that my art practice, and then either write a little music or do the next coding module. I haven't written music in ages and it fills me with such churning, freezer-burning anxiety and I'd really like to combat that considering it's the thing in my life that brings me the most fulfillment. This is sounding like another post rn though, so I'm gonna save my thoughts for when I write an update involving composition. I'm feeling good today, and I'm not gonna let my anxious little brain take up my precious time worrying about wasting my creative/productive potential when instead I could, idk, be creative and productive. Or do LITERALLY anything else. Get outta here you squirrely little guilt-soaked meat sponge, thanks for your concern but you're squandering my valuable minutes. I love you. Mwah <3

[talesfromacrip]

more ehh thoughts (recent edition):

w o w

can’t even speak my damn mind anymore in this house I guess without getting the whole, ‘get out then if you don’t like it here. look for a section 8 place and blah, blahhhh’ speech.

the signature speech of my parents when I get on their ‘last nerves’..

all just for speaking my mind. lovely

all bc I said something in regards to something political my dad was talking about. then saying black lives matter after bc it was also apart of the conversation

(which is my opinion)

that word doesn’t sit well in my parents ears.. my dad to be specific apparently.

he then started saying I should just look for somewhere else to go and that if I say that again, something will happen. (not anything violent on me,but make me leave to somewhere else type of happen )

guess my parents (specifically my dad) wants me dead if he wants me to go out and find somewhere else to go. it’s not like, idk, i have a fucking immunocompromised system or anything like that ya know?? also.... during a fucking pandemic as well ?? helllloooo, old man?? i just don’t know anymore sometimes with my parents

caught me off guard a bit and hurt really fucking bad.. like, wow. if that’s how you feel, then let me go which you won’t and won’t admit.

used to it though which is silly to say, but I can’t do anything much about it even if i tried. so, I must deal for now anyway I can.

we settled our differences though which, I’m glad, but I hate that I was the first one to do it. shows how it is in my family at times

-

at least my mom and few friends are on my side. ridiculous to be treated like this for having a fucking opinion.  

doesn’t help either to get teased about it. like I haven’t been most of my life already ya know, shit.

sick of this house sometimes. the people in it, I should say.. sigh

———

———

I feel like I’m not, as ‘feminine’ as a lady should be. adds to my existing body probsss

can’t put makeup on. can’t get my nails done. can’t use bath bombs. can’t use facial creams or certain acne products. can’t buy clothes I’d like to shape my body and whatnot.. it goes onnnn. I would like to do what a lady likes to feel/look her absolute best ya know.

I can’t though. trying?????which doesn’t really go anywhere much tbh

I have an unused makeup palette and lippies going to absolute waste in my drawer.

which, cost me gooood money bc gooood brand. treat myself.

to see it go to waste though,is heartbreaking...

I could be using it now during the pandemic,but I have no one to help me with it. I can’t do it myself with my fucked up arms/hands either so that’s a nope.

my mom won’t help me and I’ve asked. she has more important things to do than make me look like a little clowns spawn.

I have so many ideas and I can’t execute them as I’d like. never can and it hurts. maybe on a drawimg, but having it applied to your face is a much better experience. very relaxing as well,but to take off.. that’s a process

doesn’t help that I’m told I’d look better with it as well, which totally helps my self esteem ya know. "it suits your moon face and covers those acne bits.."

fucking hell.. like, let me be.

guess not though it seems :lllllll

-

I feel gross about my skin.. dry and flaky at times from my medication and bc my body is a lil ass. it’s fucking oily on occasions as well.. ughhh. a whole nightmare, in my opinion

small acne scars,pimples from an imbalanced body in miscellaneous spots and places where they shouldn’t be.. I hate it.

I cannot look at myself without wanting to scream sometimes. I just stare and flip through a plethora of thoughts until I’m sitting there watching myself cry

I can’t buy the right skin products without suffering a break out or some kind of allergic reaction either. that’s how ‘sensitive’ i am.. ughh and people think it’s sooo fucking easy to take care of your skin.

help me out then and do it for me instead of telling me when I’ve said why I couldn’t in the first place..

fucking shit

-

I use to do my nails and paint them different colors almost every other week or so when I was younger. that was when I could move them to a certain extent. now i just can’t much for that. maybe?but I don’t want to risk twisting my wrist again. which, oddly helped a bit, but I’m not risking it

can’t even paint my right hand without leaning into a terrible spine position bc of my curled in fingers. it’s "so easy" though.my big ass it is

so, I just leave them bare nowadays

I have chipped and or broken nails anyway from fidgeting and anxiety. so, that’ll get in the way when they’re colored

sigh

-

bath bombs are the most elegant form of hygienic self care. a bubbly concoction for your skin to dip in.. ughhhh. sounds so relaxing and funnn

can’t sit in a fucking tub though to enjoy it and I don’t have the walk in ones. just a plain walk in shower. every time I see someone post about them, I melt inside. so pretty with the glitter fragments and the colorsss...mm

how I wish I could endure a porcelain tub to soak and forget about the world for a moment.

I can dream, but that still hurts as well.

-

I used to wear slim fitting tops for my stomach bc I was one of the chubby ones ya know.

now, I want to use them more bc my body doesn’t look how I thought it would be at my age. due to medication and lack of movement, just made it worse and it’s not my fault. feels like it is though and I tried. still am and it’s been hard lately with the pandemic. massive buying spells again so, some healthy goods are not available.

apparently though it seems nowadays being ‘thicc’ is in when years before it was absolutely frowned upon.

I got teased for being ‘thicc’ and now I’m somewhat getting praised for it?? kinda weird circus did I buy tickets for? unless I didn’t??

like, what do y’all mean, now it’s in????? stop being such a rude wad of shit and quit playing with people like this.

I don’t know what to accept much anymore and it’s bothers me so damn much

even if you do get praised,you must meet the standards. with some that is, I should say. must be at least some sort of skinny. some sort of, shaped being that I don’t really want to explain bc I feel it’s obvious.

some disabled folks are almost never in this section and when so, seems very fetishized.

hopefully this paints a small picture or whatever size you prefer your canvas to be. I’ve already talked about my body and more like this just gets me upset

———

———

uggh why are people still making stupid party plans, going to crowded places and doing other irresponsible shit... during a fucking pandemic?? It’s literally s o fucking irritating.

these people do not grasp this it seems, but ooooooohhh. gotta go out and risk it for someone who doesn’t even care about my health,others and even themselves.

fucking dumb

-

funny to see them complain about being home and all bc of this. like, how do you think I’ve felt and countless other disabled folks like me? sucks h u h. no freedom to go anywhere for risk of a fucking accident or worse, d e a t h.

it’s easy as hell to stay home and keep yourself occupied but apparently it’s a big ass deal

read, write, draw, cook, c l e a n. go out in your, idk, backyard as your outside relief?? is it really that b a d of a need to go somewhere??

especially when eventually it’ll drain you and you’ll eventually go back h o m e anyway ??t’s ridiculous.

"you should be thankful you can even go out."

yeah, to appointments, groceries, and concerts o n l y.

I don’t have the fucking privilege to go out at my own leisure and when I do, I have to plan like a mf.

it’s not easy. can’t drive. van is always busting on us. parents are my only source of a ride. can’t even generally go out anywhere bc of stupid stairs and all that.

I swear. every time I see a friend, mutual or family put something like that.. irritates me. I wanna comment so bad,but I don’t want to start anymore drama.

maybe soon I will. who fucking knows

———

———

i miss shows and all, but I just don’t as much.

I’m paranoid to think of going to future ones now..

I’ve already missed a majority of concerts my whole childhood and teen years due to my disability.

I don’t want to miss out on my young adult life now that I’m somewhat in a ‘better state’ bc some of y’all don’t want to be cautious and follow rules.

shows are therapeutic for me, but idk anymore now if it’s makimg me like this

disabled folks like myself who enjoy these shows are in so much fucking danger, it’s ridiculous.

we already were anyways with moshing and all.. which I know some act like they don’t know.

y’all are so desperate to go like, what about the other fandom folks who can’t even attend these shows though?? sad

these lives performances some artists have been doing are perfect and we need to support them more with this format. encourage the fuck out of them like the do to us with their music and whatnot.

I was so fucking thankful DGD did one.

it was a great time, but not so great when everyone is like, but what about an ‘actual show’?

it’s just, never enough with some of the fans I swear. irritating

yeahhh ,lets risk the fuckin band/bands getting sick so they can play for us. yasssss. shows how much they read up on the members and care about their health/wellbeing.

———

———

being sober brings back a lot of suppressed memories. nights are bit hard when going through this

makes me remember quite a bit of conversations that others have probably or most likely have forgotten by now as well

irritating and sad. that’s how I get some of my dreams as well which cause lack of sleep at timessss y a y

———

———

I, over share too much at times it seems.. how the hell do people want to know me though????

if I’m making the situation, odd or whatever, fucking tell me instead of ignoring it and trying to move on with some stupid shit

if I can fucking sit through y’alls oversharing.. can with fucking mine

———

———

I hate how everything that’s so wholesome and genuine I see, I can barely even do and say..

I especially hate how I imagine it with someone who deserves better. this is wearing me out I swear to fucking god

I put some of my eggs in the wrong basket.. again

ohhh fucking boooyyy

least it’s a good basket..

———

sometimes I feel so uneducated when taking with friends. my mind is like a fucking mad libs book on new game plus.

it’s blanks out and replaces important vocabulary with some silly childish shit instead

[almillerpoetry]

This summer, my husband got me the Technicolour Kit by Culture Hustle ($46.00 USD) (Stuart Semple’s art supply wing) and I’ve been dying to play with it. However, like so many of us, I never really felt I had anything that was “worth” playing with these supplies. I get it into my head that this notebook is too pretty to screw up, or these paints are too expensive to waste – and then they end up sitting until I decide I’m good enough.

I ended up with a spare practice canvas this weekend working on Dutch pours and finally decided, what the heck. Let’s do this.

I wanna preface this by saying that it will become quickly apparent as to why I ONLY do abstract and watercolors – I cannot draw to save my life. Also, this is obviously not a sponsored post, or a paid review or anything like that – I just buy art supplies and before I do, I always search out as many experiences as I can in order to make a good judgement so this is me contributing to that in hopes that it helps someone else!

The kit comes with three pieces – “Stick”, “Prysm” and a foam brush, reminiscent in shape and material of a beauty blender type sponge. I recommend watching the video that Stuart Semple put out to announce the product because it’s a great 101. The premise of the material is simple: brush a thin coat wherever you want the powder to go, let it dry to translucent and pat/push/brush the powder on with the enclosed sponge stick.

I remember watching it and thinking that it really reminded me of using holographic or chrome powders for nail art, something I’m very familiar with.

Below are some pictures of the process. You can see that I first taped the main area, then the smaller areas for my crystals that I was creating. The glue dried very quickly – much less than the 10 – 15 minutes recommended, but if you aren’t familiar with this type of glue, it won’t hurt you to wait until the time’s up so you don’t start powdering before the surface is ready.

The sponge is honestly worthless. The top part that attaches it isn’t long enough to give it a sturdy home, so it bends and warps and it’s like using a hot dog to apply this powder, tbh. It also ended up crumbling in parts, and I wasn’t brushing or rubbing vigorously. I was pushing the powder into the glue and moving onwards. I get that we’re not buying the kit for the brush, but if you’re gonna call it out like Semple did in his video and provide it as a tool to use, make it serviceable. That’s a pet peeve of mine. It’s like buying a makeup palette and they talk about the brush included that was specifically designed for use with these pigments and it turns out you can get a better one at Dollar General.

What about the pigment?

Well, it’s not going to be opaque so don’t expect that. Holos work better on darker surfaces, so for the most intense reactions, you’ll want to use something much darker than what I used here. The powder has good staying power and it’s refractive, but (and I hate to say this) I have holo powders that are much more intense than this one for significantly less. I’m not sure if this has to do with Culture Hustle’s process or if the materials used for this are ecofriendly (such as with their not-glitter), but I wasn’t blown away, even accounting for the lighter colors.

I outlined everything in Blk 3.1 (I was part of the kickstarter backers that got caught at the very end when they had to reformulate due to exploding bottles). I believe that this helped a lot with the holo effect, giving it something to bounce off of.

Here’s a picture of the rainbow gradient I was able to get. The subtle color is about true to life for this one.

None of the pictures have been put through filters or adjusted in any way. Holo is hard to capture with pro equipment, and I am just using an iPhone so keep that in mind. If I were to do this again, I’d block out the shape with a dark background, then apply the Prysm.

Overall, I wouldn’t say that this is a miss – if you think that you’ll use it in some applications. $46.00 is a lot of money for a supply that you don’t have a clear vision of use for. I do feel that CH has better supplies to use for like, artistic purposes.

It went great over acrylics, and I didn’t notice any degradation or damage to the paint underneath at all. What I’m planning on doing next is a head-to-head with some of my nail powders over a couple of blacks – the Blk 3.1, a mars and a carbon based black, just to see what the actual comparison is.

If you don’t have nail powders, or enjoy Culture Hustle’s products, then pick it up. I’d recommend picking up some sponge eyeshadow applicators as well and forgoing the applicator included in the kit.

Technicolour Kit – Review This summer, my husband got me the Technicolour Kit by Culture Hustle ($46.00 USD) (Stuart Semple's art supply wing) and I've been dying to play with it.

[dazzling-ji]

zodiask

aries: what are you passionate about? music, tbh. that’s about it. taurus: name 3 of your favorite books. more than enough by elaine welteroth, becoming by michelle obama, can’t think of a 3rd one rn. gemini: what was the last text you sent? it was about me dragging a kpop group 😬 cancer: if you could choose your child's zodiac sign, what would it be? i wouldn’t because a girl ain’t havin kids ✌️ leo: name something you love about yourself. my humor? virgo: what's your #1 pet peeve? rude people. like people who go out of their way to not care for others? libra: describe your dream partner. just hype up my akoiromantic self huh. someone who just brings out the best in me? and inspires me? great sense of humor, too, because i love laughing. but they also need to be intellectual, because a girl likes to think. scorpio: do you trust easily? nope.  sagittarius: if you could travel to any place in the world, where would it be? great question, cuz lowkey rn, it’s anywhere but the us. maybe s. korea. capricorn: what's your dream job? answered this already, but look my sign or whatever. producer/singer-songwriter. aquarius: do you believe in aliens? nope. pisces: describe someone you love. really got me out here thinking. i’ll get back to you at a later date lol sun: describe yourself in 3 words. “i’m a child” moon: what's your favorite song? atm anything off of woodz’s equal ep tbh. he really snapped and needs to get his foot off my neck. rising/asc: how would you describe your style? literally already answered this lol. definitely more masculine than feminine if i had to sum it up. mars: are you easily angered? i try not to be honestly. i hate being angry. venus: what's your aesthetic? sleek, dark palettes, kind of minimal mercury: what color do you talk in? wow, synesthesia~ i’ll say blue because it’s my favorite color. jupiter: what moral do you live by? great question. i guess trying to make others feel better? saturn: what's your biggest fear? my efforts going to waste and being unhappy and alone in the end. uranus: are you rebellious? no lol.  neptune: share one of your dreams. being happy. and fulfilled. pluto: what's the biggest thing you've learned by far in your life? that i’m not a bad person. lilith: do you have any guilty pleasures? probably staying up late on a weeknight. chiron: have you ever broken a bone? nope. ceres: are you a momfriend? nope, i’m a child. pallas: do you have a good relationship with your parents? 😬  juno: do you believe in soul mates? not really? though it’s possible that i should? 1st house: are you confident? no, wish i was though. trying to get there 2nd house: if you could only keep one of your personal items, what would you choose? maybe my sleeping mask? 3rd house: do you like to read? i did as a child, but honestly i usually just wanna see the story these days. 4th house: what does your bedroom look like? rn? tiny as heck. messy. uninhabitable. 5th house: name your favorite movie or show. favorite show? probably the good place because it had philosophy and comedy. 6th house: do you participate in community service? not on a daily basis, no. 7th house: if you could choose, what zodiac sign would you like your dream partner to be? lemme not @ myself. 8th house: do you believe in reincarnation? it’s an interesting concept to riff off of, but truly, no. 9th house: what's your favorite quote? “different doesn’t mean wrong” - kim jonghyun 10th house: are you good at public speaking? i’d love to be but a girl has stage fright 11th house: what sign(s) is your best friend/squad? cap/sag/gem so only one of them makes sense to me lol. 12th house: do you like to be alone? i do in theory, but like i prefer to be around people i can be myself around. which is why i consider myself an ambivert.