#I always think of them when I listen to the songs that are here
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jiminrings · 3 days ago
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pairing: yoongi x reader
wordcount: 10k
glimpse: yoongi doesn't want to move on from his ex because she's everything he's ever known, whereas you want to move on from him because he's everything you've ever loved.
alternatively, yoongi's your best friend and you've been in love with him your whole life.
[ angst, fluff, friends to Not Friends to lovers, pitiful amounts of Yearning And Pining, emotional constipation, second lead taehyung being unbearable And delicious somehow, jealousy, the harrowing argument of what it means to seek growth n seek comfort, VINDICATION!!!, redemption ]
notes: because i've decided that i will never become sick of writing lovers who are doomed but not really, here we are 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ to get the full experience, pls listen to the song that was the inspo behind this!!
as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! 
Yoongi's only ever been with one woman his entire life.
Ever since he turned old enough to introduce someone to his parents without them mistaking it for puppy love, which in his case was at seventeen years old, Yoongi quickly realized that he doesn’t ever want to introduce anyone other than Haein.
Yoongi, at his fresh age of seventeen, made a pact to himself to never bring someone home again if it’s not Haein, because bothering a nineteen-year old you for your own house slippers to lend to his girlfriend (he didn’t want to spend his allowance buying a nice pair when he could just sacrifice his dignity by groveling at your feet for it) was too much of a hassle.
He didn’t like the fuss that came with forming crushes. Yoongi’s spent countless nights scrutinizing his first love’s actions during recess and microanalyzing her tone towards him from the morning earlier— he doesn’t want to go through any of that again. 
He doesn’t want the grown-up equivalent of it either, because all throughout high school and some bits of college wherein he and Haein were together and totally not broken up in a perpetual on-off cycle as usual, Yoongi thought that he was set for life with her.
Unlike you, he hasn’t had his share of multiple first kisses. Yoongi, not even once, stepped into a bar with wandering eyes and a hopeful perk to his tone. He hasn’t worried about making first impressions again, nor has he ever had to ask how many people came into the picture before him.
In Yoongi’s eyes, it’s only been Haein the entire time. There’s no before, during, and after her, even if the last phase in time is just something he hopes for and is not set into stone. 
It’s still Haein for him, the kind, starry-eyed girl that wore your house slippers when she stepped foot into his childhood home for the first time to meet his parents, and it’s been her ever since.
It’s still her, because she never knew that the slippers she wore was actually yours, which made it her one and only designated pair, so much so that she even took it with her when she moved in with Yoongi in their shared apartment.
It’s still her, because you’ve gone through multiple pairs ever since, and so did the boyfriends you took home to meet your family.
It’s still Haein, because Yoongi hasn’t moved on from her even if they broke up for good (or atleast that’s what you’ve heard in verbatim and what Yoongi refuses to confirm) a year ago.
"There's nothing wrong with being with someone new," you snort, your tone bordering on condescending to which Yoongi predicted correctly, simply because you’ve had this conversation a million times already. 
You told him that in your attempt to comfort him when Haein broke up with him back on the second semester of their first year in college, wherein he found himself wailing against your sheets at your dorm.
You told him that in your attempt to appease him when he broke up with her during their junior year, wherein he had to wipe at his tears furiously before fixing his tie because it was only hours before your graduation and both your parents downstairs are calling for a picture.
You tell it to him now too, in your attempt to convince both Yoongi and yourself, as he starfishes on your couch while reminiscing what could’ve been another anniversary (albeit choppy and not at all continuous) of the first time they held hands.
"Yes there is," he groans, his emotions maturing enough not to cry helplessly unlike the past breakups, but not enough to stop glomming onto you. “I don't want to talk about my favorite color again. I don't want to answer how many siblings I have. I don't want to be asked the extremely quirky question of whether I think pineapple belongs on pizza or not, again!"
"It's only normal to introduce yourself again and again until you find the right one for you!" you laugh, your self-built amusement keeping the entire situation light for you because if you don’t find a way to distract yourself from Yoongi holding onto Haein pathetically, just like how you do so with him, you’d be as devastated as him.
You’d be devastated too if you realize that there’s little to no chance of earning back the only person you’ve ever truly loved, if not more— except you’re not Yoongi, and he’s not Haein.
What you have to go through is more devastating because Yoongi’s never really been yours in the first place.
"But I want Haein to be right for me," he whines, his eyes sleepy from all the fatigue that comes with driving all the way to your place, just so he could be miserable around you and not apart from you. “Even if she's not, I want it to be her."
You’re quiet for awhile, and Yoongi doubts your silence because you’ve only ever chewed his ear off whenever he started moping about Haein. He’s noticed it ever since you were young; you’d never let a single second pass without overwhelming him with your words whenever he thought too deeply, too lowly about anything. You didn’t give him a break to even think when it comes to times like these, so Yoongi grows even more concerned when you give him a break.
He’s used to the noise that is you trying to distract him from everything that pains him.
"For the record, you already did those things twice in your life,” you murmur after some time, looking up from the glass of wine that Yoongi poured you and bought for your collection before he made the decision of crashing out over Haein in your living room.
"Oh my god, did I kiss someone while I was drunk? When you dragged me out for drinks last week? When-… when it was, uh, when it was the anniversary of me and her moving in and-…”
"No, you monogamous asshole," you interrupt, rolling your eyes. "You did it with Haein."
"What are you talking about?" Yoongi tilts his head, his eyebrows furrowed as he tries to comprehend what you’re saying.
You still look annoyed at him, as you’ve always done whenever he comes to you crying about her, but now, you look more subdued; like you’re a little more melancholic for god knows what reason (Yoongi knows it’s definitely not about him and Haein’s breakup), and a little less agitated at having to have this conversation for the nth time.
"I knew you first, Yoongi," you remind faintly, shoulders offering a weak shrug. "You had to do it all over again for Haein when she came into your life, but I don't see you complaining."
Yoongi hits pause on his agony to frown slightly, sitting up on your couch in order to nudge you with his shoulder. ”But that's different because I grew up knowing you. It's only natural for you to know me this way.”
The snort that leaves you borders on offensive, and Yoongi automatically narrows his eyes when he senses the hint of sarcasm in your smirk.
”You mean know you as intimately as your one and only girlfriend did? Maybe even more than Haein actually does know you?"
"If you put it that way it sounds weird, but yeah," Yoongi scoffs defensively, crossing his arms on his chest before looking up at the high ceilings of your apartment in surrender. “Aren't just close friends basically lovers without the formalities?"
Yoongi’s only ever been with one woman his entire life.
You figure it’s because of that so he doesn’t know what he’s saying. 
You figure it’s because of Haein’s monopoly on his feelings and experiences that you convince yourself that Yoongi hasn’t been kicked around enough, to realize that what he’s saying is enough for you to assume a higher, closer place in his life.
You figure that Yoongi only knows love because of Haein and not love itself, enough for him to tell you that being close friends with him is the equivalent of loving him in that light, only without the coveted crown that comes with being his first and only love that Haein still possesses.
"You're right," you mutter, downing the rest of your wine and the assumption that Yoongi knows it’s him whom your hearts yearns for. "It does sound weird when you put it that way."
( ♡ ) 
Yoongi’s a manny. 
More specifically and less confusingly, Yoongi’s a male nanny and he enjoys the job.
When you graduated two years earlier than he did, all he talked about was how happy and envious he was for you over being born earlier than him. He told you that you were unfair (and so were your parents) by bringing you to the world earlier and not as the same time as him, even detailing how he wants to be just a day older than you instead of you being ahead by two full birthdays.
When you graduated two years earlier than him, proving just how lucky you were (even if Yoongi argues that it’s your sheer intellect and not something as silly as luck) by landing a coveted job, all Yoongi could talk about was how he wanted to follow in your footsteps.
He’s not in the place where you are now, and although neither of you are bitter about it, some part of Yoongi still thinks what could’ve been.
“I should’ve never brought it up,” you apologize sincerely, nudging him with your knee to get the point across because you didn’t really mean to throw him into a loop.
You’re sure that Taehyung, your colleague who’s one year your junior and knew both you and Yoongi from college, didn’t really mean to offend the latter either, or atleast that’s what you think. 
You only opened up about your brush-up with Taehyung in the elevator because it was your first time bumping into each other having worked in the same company for so long, and you thought (read: thought) that Yoongi would be amused about the interaction too.
You thought that Yoongi would be amused about your encounter with Taehyung because the third question he asks you (the first asking how you were doing and the second asking if you were single) ventures straight to Yoongi and what he was up to. 
You thought he’d be amused that Taehyung still remembers how the both of you were attached to the hip despite being apart in year levels, but with the way Yoongi scowls (even for just the briefest second), you knew that you hit a sore spot. 
“Nah. It’s okay,” Yoongi exhales, glossing over the random question of Taehyung asking if you were taken before willing himself to forget it completely, and moving onto the facet that you thought offended him. “It pays well, honestly. I didn’t think I would ever score a job like this.”
“Me neither,” you shrug lightly, being relieved when you see the playful roll of Yoongi’s eyes.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he whines, throwing his head back in faux annoyance, to which he may or may not attribute to Hwayoung’s (one of the children he looks after) tendencies.
“I don’t mean it in a bad way, Yoongs. It’s just that, well, I pictured that you’d be this hotshot data analyst, or I.T, or something equally as technical and now-…” you trail off, the smile in your face genuine. “You’re a hotshot nanny.”
“This wasn’t my dream. You knew that,” he snorts, asserting his point by once again bringing up your extensive knowledge about him. “But I was just strapped for cash this one time, and I was behind on rent and my stupid, complicated job at my old company didn’t pay on time– then you already knew about my neighbors being these newlyweds with twin babies and before I knew it, I was looking after them! I was making bank by staying up like I’ve always done, and I get an audience when I’m talking to myself!”
Yoongi doesn’t overestimate your familiarity for him, and neither does he overestimate your sincerity towards his decisions. You judge him, sure (you’ve never made your annoyance for his weakness for Haein and his affinity for their backwards-moving relationship a secret), but you’ve never actually discouraged him from anything.
You didn’t talk him out of getting back with Haein all those breakups ago.
You didn’t talk him out of applying for unrelated jobs outside of his degree.
You don’t talk Yoongi out of anything, even anyone, that’s capable of bringing him joy.
“You love what you’re doing and you’re earning a shit ton. You don’t have to be affected by what an old classmate is asking.”
“That old classmate is working in the same Fortune Global 500 company as you are,” he chuckles just a little bit bitterly, making you nudge his knee a little harder this time. “But still,” he deadpans. “It’s okay. I’ll get over it. I can consider this as practice anyway.”
“You’re… opening up a babysitting company…?”
“Stupid,” Yoongi snickers, squeezing your knee tightly before his hold disappears. “No! I mean practice before I have a family in the future!” he laughs, shaking his head at you as if it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world; as if his optimism for a future with Haein isn’t persistent. “I don’t know what’s Haein’s take on working if we ever do have children, but either way, it’s nice to know that I already have the basics mastered.”
Whenever you least expect it, even if you should know by now after spending so much of your life with Yoongi, he reminds you of your place.
“You and Haein aren’t even together now,” you mutter, keeping your gaze low.
“Can you shut up?” Yoongi groans, slouching in his seat. “I’m not saying we’re gonna have a family now. I’m saying maybe we’ll have one in the future.”
“But you’ve been broken up for years.”
“Again, Y/N,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, the playfulness between the two of you slowly but surely dissipating. “I need you to be quiet.”
( ♡ ) 
Your parents like throwing thanksgiving parties for you and your siblings.
It’s quite literally the joint event for all seasons because your parents don’t even dare to set out cake for anyone outside of your family to eat when the holidays come, promising to make the party they excessively fuss about to be an umbrella for the rest that they miss throughout the year.
It’s an event that none of you really asked for but your parents insist on anyway; mostly to celebrate their accomplished children, and just a tiny bit more to brag about the lives they’ve managed to cultivate.
Yoongi, like for every other thanksgiving party that your parents have thrown, shows up in his most prized suit. It’s his most expensive and cleanest one to date, and it’s a suit that he reserves only for your parents’ shenanigans; not for a relative’s wedding, and not for a rich friend’s event either — he wears it just for you.
“I’d hate to be your unemployed cousin during this time of the year,” he jokes, being unable to look around the room without locking eyes with atleast one of your relatives or mutual friends and waving at them, yet Yoongi’s not really peeved about it at all.
“Yeah, that side of the family hates us,” you laugh, the tension in your shoulders loosening when you realize that you have nothing to be anxious about, especially when you’re just across the person who knows you the most.
You have your fun in these thanksgiving parties, and Yoongi has his own. Your definition of fun means owning up to your achievements and not attributing them to luck, poking fun at your siblings behind their backs, and maybe striking up a conversation or two with a family friend that you forgot was more handsome than you thought he’d be.
Yoongi’s fun on the other hand, only ever revolved around you and Haein when it comes to these parties. Now that the latter wasn’t invited this year and he’s not capable of trailing after her like a puppy, feeling like an outcast amongst a sea of accomplished individuals, Yoongi can now trail after you, feeling like he belongs.
“Look at my parents. They keep boasting about you so much, you’d think they gave birth to you,” he nods his head to them, talking your aunt’s ear off as they keep gesturing to you, grinning when you catch their gaze.
“I don’t look at you as a brother. Gross!” your nose scrunches, making Yoongi roll his eyes and subsequently kick you lightly in the shin.
The two of you, thankfully, are okay. The awkward conversation that transpired about Taehyung’s curiosity and Yoongi’s own insistence of a future with Haein seems to never have sprung up in the first place.
You’ve known each other for a lifetime; it only felt appropriate, nevermind unhealthy, to let familiarity take its toll to make the two of you complacent enough to not apologize to each other and still be okay by the next day.
“My parents didn’t graduate college, but you knew that already,” Yoongi talks, gaze still holding out to his parents from a distance like it’s a stare he can’t break off because his eyes feel too comfortable. “They found a lot of things– a lot of people annoying because they made them feel inferior, but we never felt that way with your family, y’know?”
You’re not one to deny the distance between you and Yoongi; everything from your age difference, to how your childhood house overlooked his, and even to the feelings you share and don’t share, there’s an imbalance the two of you would never be able to tip.
“Your parents are genuine, close friends with my own, and your family never pitied ours,” he smiles, eyes crinkling in gratitude as he does so.
“I know that,” you return the sincerity, eyes set on his while his gaze is directed elsewhere. “But where’s all this coming from?”
“I see the way you look at me,” Yoongi shrugs, the second that it takes him to turn his attention to you making you falter.
You don’t know if you’re more scared or relieved at the possibility of Yoongi knowing about your feelings.
“And how do I look at you?” you test the waters, tilting at your head to try and closely gauge the tiny smile on his lips, but you come up empty.
“I can’t tell exactly, but you always look at me with some sort of guilt.”
“Why would I look at you with guilt?” a breathless laugh escapes you, the ease plastered on his face making you more and more pressured.
“I don’t know either! You tell me,” Yoongi laughs brightly, slinging an arm across your shoulder to which no one bats an eye to, because although they don’t know the two of you as well as you know each other, they have a semblance of it.
They know how you and Yoongi are friends; how you and Yoongi are close friends who are basically lovers without the formalities.
“We’ve known each other for a lifetime, Y/N. There’s nothing about one another that could surprise us anymore.”
“That sounds so boring,” you mutter, the words slipping out of you before you could even control them, effectively dampening the sentimental mood that Yoongi’s in.
“Excuse me?” he asks, a little bit offended but a lot more hurt over your comment.
“We’re not always gonna be the same, Yoongi,” you continue, staring at your feet with your voice low because it’s not like you can retract your words anymore; they’re as out there as you are when it comes to loving Yoongi silently.
“Do you… not want to be friends with me anymore?” he whispers, arm suddenly stalling as he tries to deduct whatever the hell you could possibly mean.
“Where did that come from?”
Yoongi chuckles uneasily, almost regretful he even said that outloud in fear of manifesting it. 
“I don’t– I-I don’t know! It’s just weird with the way you’re talking. Like you purposely want us to change.”
“You don’t?”
“No, I don’t,” he emphasizes. “If you’re already comfortable with the life that you have now, you don’t need to change,” Yoongi blinks slowly, unfamiliar with the way your eyes lack emotion. “I have you. I have the manny job. I have Haein.”
You’re quiet as you let Yoongi think and simmer in whatever he had to say, and he hates it.
“Is this life not enough for you yet?” he asks hesitantly, the premature scoff that leaves his throat making the bitterness linger for the slightest second. “What more could you want?”
You want to say it’s only him whom you lack, but you stay quiet.
You give Yoongi both the silence and the space to think, and he realizes that he’s never wanted to be overwhelmed by you more.
( ♡ ) 
Things have been awkward between you and Yoongi.
You didn’t mean to sound beyond ungrateful and out of touch, but simply (and maybe even arrogantly) put, Yoongi just didn’t get it. 
He didn’t get where you were coming from because he’s only stayed in one place long enough to call her his future. He didn’t get what you could be possibly going through because Yoongi only longs for comfort and not change because the latter wouldn’t benefit him in any way.
He’s right about him having the manny job makes him happy because he gets a heavy check and a learning experience. He’s also right, even if he’s rarely accurate when faced with her, about having Haein because you figure that if you were in his position, you wouldn’t ask for anything more.
If you were anything like Yoongi by having had the privilege of harboring the person you love and the life-long burden of having to yearn for her, you would be satisfied too.
It’s been a full week since the two of you talked and it’s the longest you ever went without any communication. There’s no texts coming from your end, but there had been plenty of it coming from Yoongi’s.
Yoongi, your best friend, knows that you didn’t end your thanksgiving party in the happiest note because he happened. He felt apologetic about it ever since because he didn’t mean to sound self-absorbed to the point of projecting his selfishness onto you; painting you as the villain would be the last thing he’ll ever do because he knew that between the two of you, you were the stronger one.
You’re the more rational, focused one who studied the same degree as he did, yet actually amounted to something infinitely more even if he’s the younger one who had more opportunities than you ever did.
You’re the more unyielding one between the two of you, because you can stomach ignoring him for a week while he’s about to lose his mind.
Yoongi could send a hundred more texts wherein he pretends to have mistakenly sent a discreet, low-lying sorry to you (because the two of you barely ever apologized to each other) instead of another person. He could react to a message of yours from two months ago just to try and see if you would comment on it.
He could even call you by Haein’s name just to purposely piss you off because he’d settle for anything if it meant breaking you out of your silent treatment, yet you don’t even move an inch whether he calls you on your phone or lingers in the coffee shop you frequent at in your workplace.
Yoongi can pull a hundred different reasons with most of them involving how he’s running errands with the children he looks after. He can say that Hwayoung knows your name (and he’s not lying about it either) and that she asked where you worked, and the both of them just happened to be in the area during their morning walk. He can say every excuse under the sun just to try and get you to talk to him, but you won’t budge.
Yoongi doesn’t like change but he likes the days wherein you rant to him about your day and ask how his went, just like every week before this one. He doesn’t like growth in the guise of everything he’s comfortable with being stripped away, but he likes the nights wherein he could call you and ask you to look after the children in the living room while he goes to the bathroom, when really, he’s just standing from a distance to look at you coo at them.
So when Yoongi got the call from your brother, asking him for a favor to look after your nephew if only he was free for the day (he wasn’t, but he made it work nonetheless), he immediately jumped at the chance of maybe, just maybe seeing you drop by at your family’s home.
“You’ve been ignoring me,” he says under his breath when he locks eyes with you in the nursery, your presence only being a surprise to him alone because he didn’t think you were staying with your parents the entire week when normally, you’d be a little high-strung staying with them after three consecutive days.
“Just been busy. Sorry,” you reply quietly, your apology only being an afterthought because you’re unsure who’s at fault.
“Me too,” Yoongi clears his throat, bouncing your sleeping nephew on his arms as he indiscreetly makes his way to you. “I’m sorry too, I mean.”
It’s weird for the both of you to apologize to each other.
It’s weird for you to see Yoongi in your childhood house and have no one question his presence, because the scene of him cradling your brother’s baby with a cloth strewn over his shoulder and your sister’s headband on his head to keep his hair away from his face, only looks right.
It’s weird for Yoongi to see you so torn up over him, and it’s even weirder that all the anger he had towards you for ignoring him just immediately dissipated.
Yoongi puts your nephew down on his crib with a precise gentleness to him, his hands cramping up not because he spent so long trying to get him to calm down, but because he doesn’t ever know what to do with them whenever you face him.
“You didn’t have to do this for my brother, y’know? You shouldn’t feel pressured to say yes just because he asked,” you clear your throat, filling the silence in with your voice that Yoongi has missed so badly.
“What are you talking about? I’m not on the clock right now,” Yoongi furrows his brows, the frown on his face evident. “I’m not here as a manny. I’m here as an uncle.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh,” he snorts, the snarky expression from him cutting through the tension between you. You could just throw your head back out of relief, knowing that Yoongi’s not that mad at you, but the both of you know you’re far from the clear.
You’re far from the clear when you don’t make a single move to come towards him across the room, even if it’s the only thing you wanted to do the past week.
You know you’re far from the clear and even further from moving on when it’s Yoongi who comes to you, his pace slow yet definitive, his fists unclenched for once as he practically leaps towards you in the end.
It takes one, two seconds for you to realize that although it’s Yoongi who made the first move to get close to you, it’s you who puts your hands on his cheeks, forehead rested against his with your eyes closed, tightly. Painfully.
Yoongi opens his eyes when you do, staying in your grasp even if he realizes that you almost kissed.
“You can read my mind, Yoongi, right?” you whisper, pulling apart briefly to look up at him, yet close nonetheless because you could still practically hear his heart beating out of his chest.
“Yeah,” he swallows the lump in his throat, the hand he has around your waist loosening for just a fraction of a second, yet you don’t need it— you don’t need him to unravel further to confirm what you’ve always known.
“So I don’t need to say it out loud,” you smile tightly, the shaky sigh that leaves you making Yoongi’s lips purse out of guilt. “So I don’t need to say it out loud that I love you,” you say in your mind, eyes already stinging even if Yoongi hasn’t let go of you yet.
“You don’t,” he affirms, his voice hoarse as his hand on your waist still doesn’t budge, the other cradling your wrist because he can’t decipher if it’s him wanting to keep your hand on his face, or if it’s him keeping you away. “You can read my mind too, right?”
You nod earnestly, the smile that he gives you even being tighter than yours.
“Right,” he clears his throat. “So I can’t— I-I don’t have to say it either,” he whispers. “I don’t need to say out loud that the feeling isn’t mutual,” you read in his mind, the silent admission effectively relieving you of the weight you’ve carried ever since you knew him.
Yoongi’s phone ringing is the only thing that snaps the both of you from your daze, your immediate composure being shaky despite having prepared for this for so long because you knew it anyway.
You know that no matter how much Yoongi looks like he belongs to you, your life, and everything in between, you still won’t stand a chance against the person who’d make him drop everything new for the promise of coming home to everything he’s familiar with.
“It’s uhm— it’s Haein,” he explains, the nervous grin he has on face being infectious despite your very own appearing for a much different reason. “She wants to talk about things.”
“You don’t have to let me know,” you shake your head, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Go, Yoongi.”
.
.
.
You’re not ignoring Yoongi anymore.
Apropos of nothing, Yoongi and Haein are talking again.
They’re not together, yet, but you know how it always ends between them anyway, so you steel yourself for the worst despite it being Yoongi’s best.
( ♡ ) 
You badly want to change.
You badly want to change and although it’s not Yoongi’s fault, the way he hovers around you makes you feel otherwise.
You already made well on your promise of not shutting him out whenever things get tough for you, but even then, no part of the way you’ve been acting recently ever appeases Yoongi.
He’s accustomed to you growing like you always have been, yet he didn’t even think that you changing bit by bit could ever impact him this greatly, Sure, Yoongi’s happy that you’re no longer ignoring him intentionally, but his stomach still turns every time you do reply to him at an ungodly hour and he’s reminded of your little joke (he hopes it is) that you’re more active at that time of night because of your extracurriculars.
Yoongi’s happy that you still turn to him, but a large part of him, if not the entirety, grows bitter when he sees you looking happier nowadays and he can’t tell if it’s because of something you’ve already told him or if it’s because of something totally unrelated and how he could never know, because the one thing that he made you promise is for you to keep being his friend.
You’re still Yoongi’s friend before, during, and after your confession, and he doesn’t know if that placates him.
Yoongi doesn’t want to amount to anything less than a friend to you but he doesn’t want to be your family either. He wants to be whatever it is in your life that knows why you’re smiling so much and why you barely rant to him.
He wants to be whatever, whoever, it is your life in order to know that you’re seeing Taehyung right from your mouth and not from your brother’s like he’s a jaded suitor that’s been anticipating bad news.
Yoongi wants to matter enough, as if he already doesn’t, to know about you having a boyfriend.
“You have a boyfriend and you didn’t tell me?” he spits, the way he barrels into your apartment with his own keycard being unceremonious. 
Yoongi knows today’s your rest day and he knows that by this time, you’d be on a call with him to ask about his day and entertain Hwayoung who keeps butting into your conversation. By this time, it would’ve still been you and him, whether or not Haein and Taehyung were in the picture.
“You’re hooking up with the guy that talked shit about me, and you didn’t bother telling me?”
“Taehyung didn’t talk shit about you,” you scoff, closing the door after him as you follow him into your living room.
Yoongi’s eyes widen comically, heart clenching when he realizes that you have no comeback for anything else he’s said, jaw clenching as he points a finger at you.
“He fucking looked down on me-…”
“He was just shocked!” 
“Are you seriously defending him instead of being on my side?!” he exclaims, the sarcastic chuckle that leaves his lips rubbing you wrong because for any other person and any other instance, you’d laugh with him too.
“Do you not expect me to?” you snarl. “You’re dragging my boyfriend’s name to an argument that you started, and you don’t expect me to defend him?”
“You’re being a hypocrite,” he grits, nostrils flaring in sheer anger.
“And if I am, then what about it?!” you throw your hands into the air, poking your finger at his chest yet he refuses to get out of your face. “Have you not ever been a hypocrite when it comes to defending the person you love?”
It’s not your glare that gets him to back off.
It’s not your hostile, defensive nature towards Yoongi, in defense of Taehyung, that makes him deadly silent.
It’s you, holding up a mirror for the same blind defensiveness that he’d always carry whenever your words just barely graze Haein’s honor.
You’re guilty of judging Yoongi, but not of dissuading him from pursuing Haein like he’s always done — Yoongi, however, can’t say the same for himself.
“I hope Taehyung’s worth it,” he spits. “I hope he’s worth treating me like this, because not once have I ever made you less of a priority even when Haein was still in the picture.”
The use of was makes you pause, the past tense making you blink owlishly and finally take a step back from Yoongi as if it’s just your proximity to him that was the raging problem.
“Haein was my girlfriend but I never, never turned my back on you. I never made things awkward for us. I never stopped showing up for you, even if it costed me with her. I never made you feel the way you’re making me feel now,” Yoongi heaves, jaw clenching from how hard he’s ignoring the lump in his throat.
You chuckle sarcastically, the briefest glimpse you have of yourself in Yoongi’s words making you feel utterly pathetic. “Yeah? And how am I making you feel now?”
“Like we haven’t known each other our whole lives.”
( ♡ ) 
It’s been months since you and Yoongi properly talked to each other.
Life got in the way between the two of you and as much as Yoongi didn’t want to push, you didn’t want to grow out of the comfort that you already had with Taehyung either.
There were still texts and calls, but in between Yoongi getting whisked away for his employers’ vacation for a change and you being content with your job and your boyfriend as your comfort, neither of you made any drastic moves after your fight.
The only apology that Yoongi could get out of you after storming off from your apartment was you asking if he had already eaten dinner two nights after your fight, while the only apology that your close friend could ever give to you was that he hadn’t (even if he actually did), just to get your conversation rolling.
You feel guilty reserving parts of you from Yoongi, namely Taehyung and how he fits into your life, even if it’s always been established that there’s no use hiding. You know a terrible lot of information about how Yoongi and Haein are in bed against your will, and Yoongi has an awful amount of knowledge about your preference for condoms and how you like your men. 
There’s guilt in your chest and you don’t think it would ever disappear for as long as Yoongi’s still in your life. Being defensive about anyone outside of your family and Yoongi, specifically because neither are synonymous no matter how much Yoongi keeps recurring from your family’s mouths, is something entirely brand new.
Taehyung is new to your system, just as Yoongi was all those years ago, and it scares him more than it scares you.
The concept of lagging behind someone who had just been a casual topic of interest (more specifically because he had seemingly offended you and him) then became your boyfriend overnight feels like a giant slap on the face because Yoongi, not once, has ever entertained the possibility that you’d be as lovesick as him.
He didn’t think that you were also capable of being defensive about a loved one who isn’t him, just like he is over Haein. 
He didn’t think about how angry and offended he’d feel seeing you become so protective of someone who doesn’t know you like he does, because in Yoongi’s defense, Taehyung doesn’t know shit about you.
Taehyung does not and will never know you like he does, because he never trailed after you and idolized you in everything that you do, so much so that he only pursued his degree because you did before him.
Unlike Yoongi, Taehyung never had to be taught by you how to drive and what it means to have his family’s manual transmission car stall right after the stoplight turned green, because it meant you having to comfort Yoongi who was in tears after being honked at, and you lying straight through your teeth to his parents by saying that he was excellent and should definitely be trusted with driving the car alone with Haein to take her on dates.
Unlike the person you know the most, Taehyung never had to have the conversation with your dad about looking after you in college despite being younger, yet puffing his chest out nonetheless to agree because he made it his personal mission.
Taehyung will never be Yoongi and the latter takes pride in it, except now, he feels that Taehyung doesn’t ever want to be in his position—
Why would Taehyung vie for his position when it’s clear that he’s at an advantage?
Yoongi ignores his feelings and grievances the best that he can, yet unlike the old him who could endure so much shit because it meant having you to lean on, he can’t help but explode now that it’s you whom he can’t see eye to eye with.
“Taehyung and I were thinking of eloping,” you say out of the blue, your admission feeling appropriate (in your eyes, atleast) because you and Yoongi have so much to catch up on after being apart and he strayed the topic towards your sister who’s expecting her first child.
You thought it was your turn to say something equally as life-changing, because with the way Yoongi hasn’t talked about Haein once and you assuming that it’s because they were back together and he was just shy to talk about it, you bit the bullet first.
You thought wrong, clearly, because the happiness completely drains away from Yoongi the moment you finished your sentence.
“What?” he asks. “Don’t be stupid.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said, don’t be stupid,” he repeats, eyes narrowing at you in anger. “You’ve only been in a relationship with him for months-…”
“I’ve known him for years-…”
“And that still doesn’t justify you marrying him just because you feel like it,” he spits, your revelation far from making him happy like you thought it would. “Stop being stupid, Y/N. You’re not marrying Taehyung just because you’re in another one of your impulsive moods.”
Your mouth falls open at that, scoffing in disbelief because Yoongi isn’t letting up in the slightest with the way there’s no hint of his outburst just being a sick joke.
“I’m not being impulsive. I really do want to marry him!”
“Oh yeah? How’s married life going to work out for you when-…”
“I only told you because I wanted to let you know. I wasn’t asking you to weigh in, Yoongi,” you snap, crossing your arms in defense while Yoongi only steps towards you.
The thought of eloping with Taehyung crossed your mind once after a weird dream, and you thought nothing about it at first so you texted him and went right back to sleep. What you didn’t expect was that he didn’t hate the idea at all (in fact, he was even happy that you thought about it), and Taehyung’s confirmation for something unlike you, for something that resembled to settling and being comfortable, changed you completely.
“You don’t expect me to interfere when you tell me you’re going to make the biggest mistake of your life?” Yoongi huffs, his eyes widening over your seeming indifference. 
“Who the fuck are you to tell me that getting married to Taehyung would be the biggest mistake I’ll ever make?”
“I’m your closest friend! I know you better than you know yourself and-…”
“You don’t,” you retort. “Clearly, you don’t know me at all or even respect me when you think the worst of Taehyung when you barely even know him!”
“I could know Taehyung for a decade and still think the fucking worst of him!” Yoongi raises his voice, laughing humorlessly as he runs his hand through his hair. “I could know Taehyung or any other guy for a lifetime and still think that they won’t ever be good enough for you!”
The laugh that escapes you is offensive.
It’s as offensive as Yoongi making your graduation about him by crying to your sheets because Haein broke up with him, and it’s as offensive as you scoffing to his face when he said that having his job serves as his practice for a future with her.
“What, because you’re in love with me?” you spit, trying to trigger something in him just so he could leave you be, for good, because everything that’s he’s saying to now– with the defensiveness you’ve only heard from yourself whenever he rationalized trying to get back with his first love — takes you right back to your previous pining.
Yoongi’s only silent, trusting that you could read his mind, and you’ve never hated knowing him as much as you do than now.
“You’re telling me that you’re in love with me, right when I decided I was sick of loving you my whole life?” you whisper, the tears stinging from the corner of your eyes making your heart clench. You’ve been called too stubborn. Too calculating and too heartless, even by your own family, and for you to unfold in front of Yoongi this easily makes you wail. “Are you shitting me, Yoongi? Are you— are you out of your goddamn mind to tell me this?”
Yoongi looks down in shame, the truth of him being over his first love not relieving the weight on his shoulders like he foolishly expected, because everything he falls short when he sees you crying.
“I didn’t want to get back to Haein with something weighing so heavily on my chest,” he whispers. “I didn’t want to get back with her because you just ignoring me for a fucking week hurt more than any breakup I’ve had with her.” 
Yoongi, vividly, can remember how distraught he was. He can remember how he can’t recall a time wherein he didn’t have you to depend on, as if he didn’t ever outgrow the phase of him idolizing you and following you wherever you went.
As if he’s still the seventeen year old him asking to borrow your slippers for Haein, while deep down seeking your approval for her because he didn’t want to do anything without you beaming at him.
“I-I felt… I felt like I was losing my mind, Y/N.”
“Can you read my mind right now?” you ask, shakily exhaling as you look down on the floor.
“That’s a really stupid thing to bring up right now,” Yoongi breathlessly chuckles, letting his hair brush past his eyes because he’s a little terrified of looking how distraught, how disappointed, you are. “But no.”
“Do you not want to say it out loud?” he asks, making you laugh silently as you gathered the strength to sit next to him, yet not as close as you always did. “Whatever it is, it’s not like I’m going to give up now,” he mumbles, looking down on your hand that’s rested on the cushion, your pinky finger just centimeters away from his, yet he can’t move to hold you like he wants to.
You wanted Yoongi and he wants you, and there’s only so much points where you could intersect until you say what’s been lingering in your mind, just like every other apology the both of you have passed up.
“We need some time apart, Yoongi. We need space,” you mumble. “We need to figure it out on our own before we figure it out together because-…”
Yoongi finishes your thought for you, head tilted down and hand outstretched with the hope that comes with being a little too late for someone who’s waited a little too long.
“Because we’ve known each other our whole lives.”
Yoongi refuses to break even if he comprehends exactly what you’re saying, because there’s no point in it when he knows he’ll never be angry at you. You can defend him and you can hurt him all at once, yet he’ll never curse you, simply because there’s no point picking at wounds he’ll keep on licking anyway.
“Do we just-…” he shrugs lightly, pinky finger painfully close to yours until he makes the heavy move of lifting it, just enough to to cover yours. “Do we find our way back to each other? Is that it?”
“That’s the plan, hopefully,” you smile, sucking in a breath you never thought would be this heavy. “I’ll find you if you find me.”
“I’ll find you when you find me,” Yoongi corrects. “We’ll find our way back to each other.”
You resent comfort and Yoongi abhors change, but there’s only so much the both of you could take until you realize that the only thing constant in your lives is each other, no matter how many seasons pass you by.
For Yoongi, it’s you.
Despite everything, it’s still you.
( ♡ ) 
The year that you spend with Yoongi flitting every once in awhile like he’s only a friend, and not the man you’ve first loved, is a year you didn’t think you’d ever spend.
Despite you and Taehyung separating amicably, he still took with him the love that you sincerely invested. He wasn’t the first boyfriend you’ve ever had, and although you were no stranger to heartbreak, he still imprinted a large chunk of him onto you.
At one point in your life, you did want to marry him; and at several points in your life after him that you don’t even think of denying, you really thought it would be him if not for the life that you led.
You don’t resent Yoongi for loving you a little too late because there’s no point in it, as much as Taehyung doesn’t even hate you in the slightest for letting him let you go in pursuit of the change that the both of you badly needed.
Yoongi could never bring himself to hate you either, even if being apart from you gnawed at him from the inside. Making something out of himself had been his biggest plan outside of pursuing you from a distance, because as soon he tendered in his resignation letter to his employers and cried right in front of the children he looked after, Yoongi won’t ever lie and say that he wasn’t scared.
Yoongi resents change even if you’re someone who yearns for it, and even with the terror that wracks his bones of starting new without you being there for him as his safety net, Yoongi does it scared anyway.
He does it scared with one eye closed as he puts the degree he’s only learned to love because of you to work, developing an app for families to look for certified, trustworthy nannies.
He does it scared anyway with his heart barely into himself and fully into you when he shows up a full night early before your family’s thanksgiving party, donning his reserved suit as he clutches a new pair of house slippers, which again, like always and just like he is, is only for you.
For you, it’s Yoongi.
Despite everything, it’s still Yoongi.
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makeitmakesomesense · 3 days ago
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A Second Listen
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Natasha Romanoff x SuperShy!Reader
Word Count: 1.7k
A/N: Day 4: I've merged a lovely request from a lovely friend with the @taylorswiftmicrofic prompt for the 4th of January, which is 'January'.
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Natasha didn’t look at you twice when you were introduced to the team.
It was one of the most embarrassing moments of your life but it was always going to be. Standing in front of a group of intimidating strangers was your worst nightmare.
You didn’t even have to speak. Agent Hill walked you into a boardroom and all you had to do was stand there and wave. 
Instead, you could barely glance up from the carpeted floor.
They’d been told, you could tell. They’d been told that you were very shy. Everyone looking back at you gave you a polite smile. 
No one seemed to expect anything more from you. 
You wished that they could expect more. That you could be someone more confident. You moved to sit in the nearest seat. 
It was January, the start of a new year. It was the perfect time to become someone new. You didn’t have much hope.
.
‘What’s that noise?’ Natasha asked suddenly. You flushed, trying to be subtle as you turned down the volume on your headphones.
Steve’s head turned obediently as he surveyed the room. 
‘I don’t hear anything.’ 
You pretended to focus on the laptop in front of you, wishing you could sink into the sofa cushions.
‘Y/N?’ Steve called, and your heart sank. ‘Did you hear anything?’ 
You opened your mouth feeling put on the spot. Nerves bubbled up horribly.
Natasha interrupted. 
‘Don’t worry Steve, I must have imagined it.’ 
Her gaze met yours knowingly and you could tell that she had guessed that you were the source of the sound. She gave you an encouraging smile before returning to her plate of pasta. 
You still felt mortified. Your cheeks burned as you turned the song off all together.
.
Natasha could hear a thumping noise. Erratic and varying in volume. It definitely wasn’t music. It didn’t sound dangerous, just strange. 
She followed the noise instinctively, moving along the hallways of the Compound as the strange rhythm continued. 
She stopped in front of your room. You’d left the door wide open. You had your headphones on. Chunky purple ones that made Natasha smile every time she saw you wearing them. Now she was closer, she could hear a small tinny noise that must be the music playing inside them.
That wasn’t the sound that had brought her here.
Natasha watched as you bounced mindlessly from your bed to the ground, twirling and skipping from one end of the room to the other. Your arms moved dramatically in the near silence. Your eyes were scrunched closed and you were mouthing along to your own silent disco. 
Natasha leaned against the doorway with her arms folded. Her head tilted as she watched.
You turned at last towards the doorway, opening your eyes as you mimed the final part of the song. You froze in place. Your eyes widened with panic. You whipped the headphones from your ears, letting them hang around your neck. 
Natasha could hear the music louder now but she still couldn’t figure out the song. 
When you met her eyes, clearly mortified. Natasha gave you a gentle smirk.
‘I loved the performance.’ She promised you. 
You couldn’t think what to say. You never could, not in front of her. 
You covered your face briefly instead, indicating your embarrassment. 
Natasha took a few steps forward, she touched your shoulder and you felt yourself go still with anticipation. 
‘If I leave now.’ She assured, eyes still sparkling with a warmth meant for you. ‘Will you promise not to stop?’
You nodded obediently, wondering if she could hear the sound of your favourite song ending and starting again from around your neck. 
Natasha looked pleased. She gave you a thumbs up just before she left the room. Embarrassingly, mortifyingly, you copied the action. Her small laugh matched her soft smile. 
You waited ten seconds and silently hurried to shut the door. 
Then, you slipped your headphones back on, pressed your forehead against the wood and smiled harder than ever before.
.
The team was celebrating. It was only surviving the scariest missions that earned a group dinner out at a restaurant. Natasha had explained the tradition to you on the quinjet flight back to the Compound.
This time it had been Natasha’s choice. She’d picked a Pho place that the others were excited by. You followed along with your usual quietness, happy just to be included. 
The song was playing. Your song was playing. 
You tried not to smile automatically, instead you kept your head down as you focused on your noodles.
‘Oh god. Is this even music?’ Natasha commented dryly. The group laughed.
You tried not to flinch as a strange hope inside you started to deflate. 
‘Who knows? I never understand modern music.’ Steve added half jokingly. 
You watched Tony roll his eyes. 
‘This isn’t modern music’ He corrected. ‘It’s just modern noise.’
Embarrassingly, you felt your eyes well up with tears. You’d been trying to be braver, more yourself around the others. You felt stupid. You were suddenly grateful that you’d always played your music with headphones. 
You kept your head down, letting the conversation around you move onto other things. 
When you finally had the courage to glance up, Natasha was already looking at you. Her eyes were full of silent apology. 
You dropped your stare back down to your empty plate, filled with miserable embarrassment.
.
Natasha was moving back and forth in the kitchen. This was not her usual style. Her hand rubbed her neck absentmindedly. This wasn’t her style either. 
You paused unsurely and worried if she was okay. 
Typically, you only came into the common areas when you had your headphones on. It had been an easy way to reassure yourself. No one expected you to talk with them on. But, after the meal yesterday, you couldn’t find the courage to put them on. It would be too embarrassing if someone heard the music you liked to play. 
You took a step into the kitchen, hoping to get away with a polite smile and your container from the fridge with leftovers in it. 
Natasha turned immediately as you approached. You froze in place automatically. She smiled brightly at you, nervous but excited. You didn’t know what to do. You waited for her to speak, to give you some kind of direction. 
Natasha’s head tilted and for a moment you could see her thinking. Carefully, with an assessing stare, she tucked her hair behind her ears.
The wireless earpods revealed themselves.
For a moment, you were too distracted by the glittering ear piercings that surrounded them. Natasha noticed your attention and her hand absentmindedly rubbed her neck again. You realised that the gesture was her way of being shy. 
You gave her a small smile and Natasha beamed.
She tilted her head again as she took out one of the earpods. Slowly, she offered it to you on her palm. You picked it up, understanding the silent cue. You held it to your ear and heard your favourite song playing loudly. Your small laugh was automatic. Natasha grinned victoriously. You offered her the earpod back and she took it. 
Then, Natasha nodded her head towards the door. You understood her cue again, following her as she led you out of the main Compound building and into the garage. You watched silently as she unlocked a car that must be hers. 
You observed the vehicle interestedly. It was jet black, sleek and expensive looking. It was intimidating. You glanced over at Natasha with her shining ear piercings and leather jacket. She gave you a soft smile and your heart raced instinctively. She opened her car door and nodded for you to do the same with yours.
You opened the opposite door and slid obediently into the leather seat. Your fingers tangled and untangled themselves in your lap as nervousness overwhelmed you slightly. After a moment, you looked over to Natasha. 
She cleared her throat.
‘I thought maybe we could go somewhere and get lunch?’  She offered simply. 
You bit your lip. Indecision warred on your face and Natasha looked suddenly deflated. You hesitated before you spoke at last.
‘You don’t have to be nice to me. Just because of yesterday. I’m not upset with you.’ 
You tried to smile reassuringly. 
Natasha’s mouth twitched as she hid her own secret smile. It was the first time you'd talked to her directly. She hadn’t realised it at first. You’d been so quiet, trying to fade into the background of every moment. 
She hadn’t realised and then she hadn’t been able to see anything else. 
Even your smallest smiles made your eyes sparkle.
‘I really do want to go to lunch with you.’ Natasha answered you simply. ‘If that’s what you want.’
She watched your fingers untangle themselves decisively. 
‘I do.’ You smiled nervously. Your eyes sparkled.
.
As she drove out of the garage, Natasha half-turned to face you again.
‘I did end up really liking that song, you know.’ She said carefully. ‘After yesterday, it got stuck in my head. It’s been playing on a loop in there ever since.’ You watched her tap her forehead. 
She glanced back to you unsurely. You knew she was still hesitant because of yesterday. You braced yourself automatically.
‘It’s really okay.’ You tried to reassure her again, not quite believing her words.
Natasha’s brow furrowed quickly and she looked like she was thinking hard. She chewed her lower lip and then she looked down to the music system installed in her car. 
Her fingers moved suddenly as she pressed various features on the touchscreen. Your stomach squeezed uncomfortably. You didn’t want her to play it now, just to try and prove a point.
A different song began to play. 
Your mouth twisted in automatic distaste at the sound. 
Natasha laughed. 
‘This is my favourite song.’ She told you, clearly pleased by your expression. You covered your face embarrassedly for a moment and Natasha laughed again.
‘You have to give it a chance.’ She said, her voice deepening slightly as her tone walked the line of playful and serious. ‘Some things get better the more time you give them.’
Your breath hitched and you nodded. Natasha turned to focus properly on the road ahead. You watched her mouth along to the lyrics. 
She was right. By the time the song was nearly over, you were starting to like it. 
You watched Natasha’s fingers move back to the touch screen, ready to switch the music to something else. 
Without thinking, you touched her hand with your own. 
Natasha froze at your touch. 
‘Can I hear it again?’ You asked shyly. 
Natasha beamed. 
.
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Requests are still very welcome for future January fics. More info in the pinned post if you're interested in requesting. <3
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authorbriannarae13 · 2 days ago
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Mind of Mine // i just want to watch you take it off - joel miller
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Joel Miller x female! reader
read on AO3 here.
summary; "You got 'nother one, sugar?"
Joel knows exactly how to get you wetter than ever. or this is the work you get when the author listens to the song 'TiO' off of the album 'Mind Of Mine' on repeat. for five hours.
warnings; smut (MDNI); unprotected p in v; oral (f receiving); mostly soft!joel; actually all soft!joel, so much praise
word count; 1.3k (it's my first joel fic, ok?)
-
You’re swaying to the music while Joel’s behind you, cooking as always.
He usually ignores you – not because you’re necessarily a distraction – but instead, because giving you the attention you crave doesn’t end well. For either of you. Last time he gave you attention, your wrists were secured to the headboard as he fucked your brains out, giving you too many orgasms to count and forgetting about the food.
Oops.
You live to be a tease, though.
It excites you too much to stop.
Mainly because it lets him plan how he’s going to punish you. Or praise you.
Whichever he’s in the mood for.
Based on his current mood – which is subject to change – he’s most definitely going to praise you.
And after the day you’ve had, it’s definitely what you need. Working for a publishing house can be stressful. And today was one of those days.
Good thing Joel loves to make you feel light – weightless, actually.
Not to mention how safe you feel. And when you feel safe, the softer side comes out.
Like all relationships, you just need to feel safe to show it.
“Darlin’,” his rough, Southern drawl interrupts your music, and you turn it off.
“Yes?” you ask, teasingly. Trying to rile him up.
But you never succeed. He knows you too well for that.
Turning away and holding a hand out, he murmurs a simple, “C’mere.”
So, you take it, letting him drag you and lift you up – right into his arms. Bridal style, of course.
You groan as your thighs clench, trying to hide your soaked cunt.
“Poor baby,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead.
“Fuck off,” you mutter while he carries you to the bedroom. Since he insists, he needs his fill of you before he can think about anything else – or dessert, as he likes to call it.
He kicks the door open and lays you down, playing with the hem of your skirt.
Your hips buck into his touch. He’s teasing you – you realize.
“Joel,” you moan as he hooks his fingers into your waistband, pulling your skirt down, and revealing the soaked black lace covering your cunt.
He pulls the lace aside, running his fingers against your swollen pussy, and he groans deep in his throat. “You’re fuckin’ soaked, pretty girl.”
Your brain goes blank as his index and middle finger both sink inside you, curling towards your g-spot.
“Fuck, sir.”
“N’ne of that sir shit tonight, baby.” He grabs your ankles, placing them on his shoulders as he sinks to his knees and licks a stripe up to your swollen - and aching - clit.
Your head falls back as your eyes roll into the back out your head. “Fuckk.”
You’re so close. If he would just curl his fingers against your g-spot just one more time, you’d be there.
He lets out a gruff chuckle that reverberates though your body as his other hand finds you shirt, pushing it up to find your nipple, pinching it.
That sends you over the edge. “Fuck, Joel,” you moan as the orgasm hits, crashing you into waves with each one more intense than the one before it.
His tongue doesn’t stop lapping at your clit even as you try to buck him off. “I can’t. I can’t- “
He cuts you off before you can repeat it again, “You can and will give me ‘nother one, sweetheart.”
“Fuck,” you groan as he pulls his fingers out, thrusting them back in while your back arches.
In. Out. In. Out. Your fingers curl into the sheets.
His fingers thrust faster as your thighs start to wrap around his head, trying to keep him there.
The second orgasm is faster than the first. You let out a silent scream as the waves rush into you for the second time in less than ten minutes.
“Good – fuck – good fuckin’ girl,” he groans, his tongue still swirling around your clit as the waves subside.
The strength from earlier leaves you almost immediately, making your legs fall. You’re boneless, but you also know he fucks you regardless of just how boneless you feel.
“You got ‘nother one for me, sugar?”
He slowly pulls his fingers out of you and brings them up to your mouth, “Taste yourself.”
You happily oblige, opening your mouth to take his fingers and tasting your cum mixed with his skin in a fucked up symphony.
His groan reverberates off the walls as you suck on his fingers – the same way you always have his cock. That’s when he starts to pull your panties down your legs, giving him better access.
Since that’s what this is all about, of course. And better access usually means better orgasms.
Speak of the devil – that shit must hurt. He looks painfully hard.
He interrupts your staring. “You like what you see?”
You slowly start to nod, but he slowly pulls his hand away, fingers leaving with a pop.
He leans down towards you, as you lean up and play with the hem of his shirt before you decide to pull it off.
Next is his belt as you hurry and rip it off, trying to get to his jeans.
“Woah,” he lets out a low chuckle, “’u’re a feisty one tonight, aren’t ya, beautiful?”
“No,” you whine as he starts to stop your frantic hands. “Just need you,”
“Where ya need me?”
“You know where,” you sass with everything you can muster.
“Need to hear ya say it, baby.”
“Fuck,” you moan as his jeans lightly graze your cunt. “Need you in me – fuck – now.”
“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters, pulling his jeans and boxers down – as fast as he can. “’U’re g’nna be the death of me, pretty girl.”
“I – fuck –“ His thrust cuts you off as he bottoms out. “I live to please.”
“So I can tell,” is the hiss you get back while he waits for you to adjust.
“Move already,” you whine before you can stop yourself. “Break me for all I – fuck –care.”
He slowly finds the pace you’re accustomed to – hard and fast.
“Look at ‘cha. You’re takin’ me so well.”
Your cunt clenches around him as he continues. “Aw, does my good girl need to be reminded of how good she feels?”
“You-“ you start, “you keep doing that and I’ll finish faster than I ever have.”
“Good girl,” he purrs. “Is that a promise?”
“B-better be,” you stutter as his thumb finds your clit. Again.
“Fuck.” Your head falls back again. Everything is sensitive.
You’re not even expecting the orgasm when it washes over you.
“Good – fuck. You’re such a good girl f’r me, sugar,” he praises, not taking his thumb away.
“Fuck.” It’s somewhere between a moan and groan. “Fuck, everything’s so sensitive.” Now that’s definitely a groan.
He ignores you, continuing his praise. “Fuck. Good girl. God, Good fuckin’ girl.”
You softly whine as he slowly speeds his pace up, trying to find his own orgasm.
After more futile moans, whimpers, and whatever else he can pull out of you.
“Fuck, you’re g’nna make me cum so fuckin’ fast, pretty girl. Goddamn-“ And that’s when you feel his orgasm crash into him – violent and unforgiving.
The orgasm lasts so long that neither one of you can keep up with how much time has passed. It isn’t until he flips you two over, so you’re on top and he’s not crushing you, that you know it’s done.
“Fuck,” you softly laugh, pressing your ear to his chest and listening to his heartbeat as he holds you tightly. You kiss his chest while he hums.
“Poor baby,” he murmurs kissing your forehead, “u’re all fucked out, aren’t ya?”
“Maybe,” you tease while he gives you a look.
“Don’t lie to me, sweetheart.”
Eventually, after Joel made sure you were okay in every aspect, you two make your way back into the kitchen, attempting to get your appetite back after all that.
You’re standing behind him with your head laying on his back when you murmur, “I love you forever and always, baby.”
You can hear the soft smile in his voice when he says, “I love you more than anything else, darlin’.”
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bruhstories · 18 hours ago
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Bet III
p.1 here & p.2 here
summary: the game is on, but in-ho can't focus on it. he's got you on his mind pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader’s background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent, mentions of domestic violence, veeeery slow burn, reader is an orphan, slight voyeurism, people dying ayy yo (but if you watched squid game, this is just normal) w/c: 2.2k
a/n: if you would like to be tagged for the next part, please check this post! thank you for reading! also feel free to replace y/n's age, i just needed to put a number there lol
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In-ho removed the intricately designed mask from his face and poured himself a glass of whisky, one leg crossed over the other as he sat on the leather sofa of the control room. The first game was about to begin soon — always Red Light, Green Light — and he waited for his favourite song to start — always Fly Me To The Moon. There was something so hauntingly beautiful about listening to a love song while people lost all hope, one by one falling to the ground.
It was a fantastic way to get rid of the weakest links, leaving only those resilient alive. Player 101, eliminated. Player 82, eliminated. Player 329, eliminated. Player 2, eliminated. They dropped like flies, frantically clawing at the gates in a futile attempt to escape while the soldiers shot them from above, painting the ground crimson.
Exhilarating was the only word that could describe what In-ho felt in that moment, and nothing compared to it. When happiness died along with his wife, control was the only thing that fulfilled him. He controlled who died and who lived, but he was also being fair — if participants played by the rules, they survived. It couldn’t get any simpler than that.
Obviously, they didn't have a choice, and In-ho knew that well enough. No, players only had the illusion of choice, but that mirage was what kept them in the game. Besides, they chose to come to the island. They chose to gamble their lives. They chose to be greedy. If anything, the games taught them, albeit for a short time, that actions had consequences, and In-ho was their judge, jury and executioner. It was truly thrilling. Exciting. Exhilarating.
His phone lit up with a notification from the security cameras concealed in his house. Irked by the sudden disturbance, he opened the app to check the footage. You weren't supposed to be there at that time, because you had already been at his house in the morning. In-ho watched you lock the door behind you, thinking today was the day you stole from him and proved him right.  He scoffed, hoping you would last longer than one day, but to his surprise, you sat on the kitchen floor, knees to your chest, crying. 
He couldn't send you a text — it would have made it obvious that he knew you were there, and his eyes lingered on his phone, forgetting about the game in front of him for a moment. In-ho watched you take out your phone and type, and not a minute later he received a text.
Good morning again! I had a bit of free time after my second job today and came to check on Eunjoo. I'll be leaving in an hour for my other job and I'm not charging for the extra visit.
In-ho stared at the big screen, completely dumbfounded and ignorant to the people dying right before his eyes. How were you working that many jobs? That was, if you were even telling the truth. But he would find out soon, because he left a stack of 2 million won on his nightstand, eagerly waiting for you to take it. You had to take it. You had to be the same as everyone else.
That's absolutely fine. If you don't mind me asking, how many jobs are you working?
He swapped back to the security cameras and watched you wipe the tears off your face with the back of your hand, smiling at his text. Did he say something funny? Why on Earth would you be smiling when a minute ago you had tears rolling down your cheeks?
Officially two, unofficially three. I teach Korean to a family of immigrants, but that's unpaid. I think of it as volunteering. They do feed me, though! My other job is a mascot at Lotte World.
In-ho shattered the empty glass in his hand while reading your text, and winced when he felt blood seeping from a fresh cut. Why, just why did you have to prove him wrong? He watched you go into his bedroom with a pile of freshly clean and dried shirts, ignoring the money. You saw the stack, he noticed you staring at it, hoping you grabbed it, but you found his ironing board and began to iron his shirts, not sparing the money another glance.
Why?
Through the camera, he saw you text back.
Why what?
"Tsk." In-ho scoffed at your question while wrapping a bandage around his palm.
Why are you working that many jobs?
Ah. My uncle has debts. Unfortunately, I had to drop out from uni to help him pay for them. It's fine though, I like what I'm doing. 
How old are you?
23.
Jesus Christ, you were so young, yet life had been unfair to you. You deserved an education, a better life, and it cemented his ideal that the world needed to rid itself of the trash. He didn't know the full details, but he was sure to find out. You were unlike anyone he's met before. At least for now, at least until you proved him right.
Ding!
In-ho opened a picture from you — Eunjoo curling up on the left side of his bed, paws under her, looking like a loaf of bread, and the question 'Is that your side of the bed?' under it.
Indeed it is. 
I knew it! Aww, she misses you :( 
How strange it was to read those words. How strange it was to think about someone, or something missing him. To In-ho that was a foreign feeling, and he loosened his tie, swallowing the lump in his throat. He'd seen Eunjoo sleep on his side of the bed before, when he was gone, but he assumed it was just comfortable for her. 
Animals truly were better than humans. If they betrayed their owners, they did it out of necessity. When humans betrayed, it was by choice. 
In-ho watched you neatly adjust his ironed shirt on a coat hanger that you hung in his wardrobe, disregarding the Red Light, Green Light game that had long finished, and it hit him like a train that you reminded him of his wife. God, you were so much like his wife it infuriated him, because no one was allowed to take that place in his heart. No one was allowed to make him feel anything other than hatred.
You had to make a mistake, to prove to him that you were just like everybody else, and if money didn't make you crack, something else would. In-ho made it his purpose to unravel your darkest secrets, whether through manipulation or sheer force, but the distance between the two of you proved a greater obstacle than he thought. 
He watched you finish ironing his clothes, watched you refill Eunjoo's water bowl, watched you comb your hair and put lip balm on while staring into his mirror, and it felt so wrong to study all your quirks and habits without you even knowing. It was the closest thing to having a normal life. But nothing about what he was doing was normal. Especially not watching you be so oblivious to his true self.
With a sigh, In-ho adjusted his mask left the control room to instruct his subordinates, the square-masked guards, to prepare  for the next game, Neolttwigi, the soldiers to take the remaining players back to their beds, and the workers to remove the corpses. 188 players survived and more than 50% were eliminated. In-ho, in his Front Man persona, should've focused on the games, but he couldn't, for some unknown reason, shake off the image of you crying on his kitchen floor. He didn’t dare ask what happened. How could he? It would destroy all the secrecy.
It wasn't that he cared about you — he didn't. You appeared to be a positive, cheerful and talkative person, so whatever hurt your feelings must have been important. Was it your uncle? Your boyfriend? He scoffed at that thought. The mere idea of some guy breaking your heart made him irrationally angry, and In-ho was lucky that his mask concealed his frustration. 
He decided to pay the remaining players a visit, accompanied by eight armed guards, and, just like last year, and the year before, and the year before that, there was always a woman who dropped to her knees, begging to be spared and allowed to go home. Another one followed, and even men asked for forgiveness, but they just couldn't get it through their thick skulls that they chose to be there. They chose to gamble their lives away, they chose to borrow money and end up with debts they could never afford to repay. No one forced them to play the games.
When the room was filled with echoing cries and hysterical sobs, In-ho fired a single shot in the air, shutting everyone up. They all looked at him with fear in their eyes like pigs in a slaughterhouse waiting to be gutted, and he lowered the gun, standing firm on his feet.
"You must be mistaken. You are not here to be punished, you are all here because of the choices you made." In-ho simply said, his voice distorted by the mask. 
He took notice of teams already being formed, of those who were willing to step on corpses just to get the big prize and those who would rather sacrifice themselves, because there were always people who wanted to play the hero. He studied them all before they got recruited, and knew 456 secrets, 456 names, 456 lives. Well, only 188 survived.
"We came here to win money, not to fucking die!" Player 072 shouted from the back of the room. "And if I'm correct, we can vote to go back home."
Ah, yet another one who thought they could outsmart In-ho. He's been there before. He walked that path before, and it taught him that people don't change. Ever. Even if they voted to leave, they always came back.
"Of course, clause three of the consent form. If the majority decides to go home, you are free to do so. We don't hold anyone against their will." In-ho nodded. "But before you make your choice, allow me to tell you the current accumulated prize."
He pressed a button on a small, black remote and a large glass piggy bank was lowered from the ceiling as the lights in the room dimmed down. Stacks upon stacks of money piled up in the piggy bank, and the screen counted the current prize — 26.8 billion won. In-ho watched how their faces lit up at the amount of money accumulated, but also how the penny dropped for most of them — the more people died, the more money the survivors got.
"If you choose to leave, the money will be distributed amongst the deceased players' families. It’s only fair." He said, and left the room so that the soldiers could prepare for the democratic vote.
"You're manipulating us!" In-ho heard a player shout, and maybe he did. Maybe he was chipping away at their humanity to bring out the worst in them, but it was for the best. At least by dying they served a purpose.
It was no surprise that the majority voted to stay, 95 to 93. Good — he didn't have to go through the trouble of sending them home. The soldiers and workers brought food for the players, and In-ho checked his phone in the safety of his room. There was no text from you, and it was almost time for you to check on Eunjoo, but when it hit 9 and you weren't in his house, he felt a knot in his stomach, an uneasy feeling. Was he worried? Of course he was, for his cat, not for you.
Ding!
The sound of his phone caught him off guard, almost startling him, almost making him feel relieved when he saw it was you, and In-ho read the text.
Evening! Traffic was baaad this evening but I'm nearly at the penthouse. Will Eunjoo ever forgive me? :( 
The stupid sad face you sent made the image of you pouting pop up in his head and he wondered why. There wasn't a good enough reason for you to be haunting him like a phantom. You were a nobody to him.
Eunjoo might, but I won't.
In-ho immediately regretted pressing send. It was unprofessional and stupid of him to text such a reply, because you weren't friends. He had no friends. 
I'm so sorry, but I promise I'll make it up to you, Mr. Hwang! I really need to get you a gift for letting me use your shower anyway.
A relieved sigh escaped his lips when you didn't take his message the wrong way, but part of him was hoping you would try to flirt with him, seduce him, do anything to prove him right. And yet again, you remained true to yourself.
He watched you on the cameras again, how you invaded his home, his life, how you fed Eunjoo and munched on prawn crackers again, disappointed that you, for the second day in a row, refused to use anything in his house for yourself except for the shower and the TV.
There was still time to win the bet, and he never lost.
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tagging: @ri1liane @anmert1 @syraxnyra @frshluvcats @lanyia @mettreads @nightdark-dreamdark @bridge-always @lovekm @audrey223 @ririgy @starkeyszn @hobiesbrownsgf @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry @maria-trisha @akiqvq @10hrs26mn @tenzko @okaycharr @politicstanner @moonxknightx @googie-jeon @swthrtbyeol @mariiestfu @ratsnestinmyhair @missroro @talia-the-gemini @fortluocha @true-queen-of-mischief @ssa-callahan @bibliophile-yomna @wwastro @heartsforseo @marymun @glads-stuff @starryeddie @kisses2kanao @gagaga167 @l4venderia @scryi @lelisae @twicelover2 @ashtrosstuff @cruel-affair @cdej6 @veragrhm
please keep in mind that if i didn't tag you it's because i either missed it, or i couldn't find your age on your blog. there will be smut.
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scarletwinterxx · 2 days ago
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thank your stars all you want but I'll always be the lucky one - choi seungcheol scenario
hellooo~ i am soooo not done with the proposal scenarios😅 this one is a request, hope i did it justice. and yes I did cry again while writing this. Happy new year!🤍
you can listen to your universe by rico blanco for maximum feels. this was insipired by this song🥺
for my other svt fics, check them here
All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.
(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)
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The soft glow of morning sunlight streams through the windows of Seungcheol’s apartment, the familiar scent of his cologne lingering in the air. You stretch lazily in bed, savoring the warmth of the cozy blankets and the faint murmur of the city outside.
It’s a routine you’ve grown used to after nearly seven years together—his home has become yours in every way except officially.
Seungcheol had left early for the gym, promising to grab your favorite smoothies on his way back. The two of you had settled into this comfortable rhythm, a dance of affection and understanding that made your friends tease you mercilessly. “You’re practically married already,” they’d say, rolling their eyes at how well you two knew each other’s quirks.
Still, in the quiet corners of your heart, you sometimes wondered why he hadn’t taken the next step. Not that you were in a rush—you loved him, and you knew he loved you. But the idea lingered, like a melody waiting to be completed.
Mid-morning, a knock at the door pulls you from your musings. You pad to the door, opening it to find a delivery man holding a small, nondescript package.
“For Choi Seungcheol?” he asks.
“That’s him,” you reply, signing for the box. It’s light, plain, and gives no indication of what’s inside. You place it on the kitchen counter and send Seungcheol a quick text: A package came for you. Should I open it?
His response is almost immediate. Don’t open it! I’ll deal with it when I’m back. Thanks, babe.
His urgency makes you chuckle. It’s rare for him to be this insistent. Shrugging, you leave the package untouched and go about your day, but curiosity itches at the back of your mind.
When Seungcheol returns, he’s casual—too casual, you think. His eyes dart to the counter where the package rests, and he quickly sweeps it up. “Thanks for letting me know,” he says, planting a kiss on your forehead.
“Sure,” you reply, narrowing your eyes at him. “What’s in it?”
“Just some gym stuff,” he lies, his tone a little too breezy. You know him well enough to catch the slight shift in his demeanor.
Over the next few days, you notice odd behavior. Seungcheol becomes extra cautious, sometimes darting out of the room with his phone or quickly closing drawers when you walk in.
It’s adorable but also maddening. You’re good at sniffing out surprises, and whatever he’s hiding, it’s big.
The breaking point comes during dinner one night. The two of you are seated across from each other, candles flickering between you. He’s unusually fidgety, his fork clinking against the plate as he tries—and fails—to make eye contact.
“Seungcheol,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him as he pokes at his steak. His fidgeting is driving you insane. “Spit it out.”
“What?” he replies, looking up with wide, innocent eyes that you know all too well aren’t innocent at all.
“You’re acting weird.” You lean forward, pointing your fork at him. “I can tell you’re hiding something. Just say it.”
“I’m not hiding anything,” he insists, but his voice cracks slightly. “Can’t a guy just enjoy dinner with his girlfriend without being interrogated?”
“Not when he’s sweating bullets,” you deadpan, crossing your arms.
He laughs nervously and takes a big gulp of water. “It’s just… I’m thinking about work stuff.”
“Liar,” you say, raising an eyebrow.
“Okay, maybe it’s gym stuff,” he says, grinning in that way he does when he’s trying to distract you. “I’m planning a new workout routine.”
“Seungcheol, I know every workout routine you’ve ever done. Don’t test me.”
He groans, dropping his fork onto his plate and dramatically rubbing his face. “Can you trust me on this one? I promise you'll love it and will hate me if I tell you right now. I’ve been working very hard on, can you be kind enough to spare me for now. I pinky promise you'll know soon enough"
You blink at him, stunned by his sudden honesty.
Then, a small smile creeps onto your lips. “Fine,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “But I’m only letting this go because you look like you might combust if I keep pushing.”
He lets out a loud sigh of relief, muttering a quiet, “Thank you.” standing up from his seat to go to you, giving your head a kiss.
The rest of the evening is pleasant, even though you can’t help but notice how Seungcheol keeps stealing glances at you, a secretive smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
It’s enough to make your curiosity burn, but you keep your promise and drop the subject—for now.
A week later, the snow falling heavy covering the streets with sheets of white. You love the snow, you've always love cold weathers more even though your body doesn't. Anything below 80° makes you shiver.
Your boyfriend knows this, he learned early on your relationship that you get cold easily so he always brings a jacket for you. Now you own his hoodies, a shared asset.
The air outside is crisp as Seungcheol insists on taking you on an evening walk through a quiet park. It's all covered in snow making the whole scene look magical.
Winter lights hang from the trees, casting a warm glow over the snow-dusted path. He holds your gloved hand in his, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he leads you to a secluded gazebo overlooking a frozen lake.
“Why here?” you ask, smiling at his excited energy. “It’s freezing.”
“It’s romantic,” he replies, winking. “Just trust me.”
You shake your head, amused. “I’m starting to think you’re up to something.”
“Me? Up to something?” He grins mischievously
You look up at the sky, it's dark enough to see the stars. Living in the city, it's a rare sight so you close your eyes and send a quick wish to the heavens like you always do when you see a star. Meanwhile Seungcheol watches you, a smile forming on his lips and his heart thumping hard in his chest
With your eyes still closed, you feel Seungcheol lean closer to you. He kisses your cheeks eliciting a giggle from you
“You’re being extra sweet tonight, did you do something?” you tease
“I’m always sweet,” he counters, feigning offense.
He seems restless, though, his leg bouncing slightly.
“Are you cold?” you ask, concerned.
“No, no. Just... thinking.”
You narrow your eyes. “About what?”
He looks at you, his gaze so intense it makes your heart skip. “About how lucky I am to have you.”
You roll your eyes with a laugh, nudging him playfully. “What’s with the cheesy lines tonight?”
He chuckles but doesn’t answer, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple instead. Then another on your cheek. And one on your lips. His kisses grow deeper, hotter, until the cold around you feels irrelevant.
“Cheol,” you murmur against his lips, half-laughing, half-serious, “what are you doing?”
“Loving you,” he whispers, his voice low and warm.
Despite his sweetness, you’re still clueless about his plan.
When he finally pulls back, he takes both your hands, holding them tightly. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
You tilt your head, your curiosity piqued. “What is it?”
He drops to one knee in front of you, and your heart stutters. “You don't know how hard it was to keep this from you, every time you ask I almost wanted to tell you but I wanted everything to be perfect” He pulls a small velvet box from his coat pocket, opening it to reveal a glittering diamond ring.
Your mouth falls open, your breath caught in your chest.
“You are my everything,” he says, his voice steady despite the emotion in his eyes. “The one who makes my world brighter, warmer, better. Whenever I think about the future, I can only see us. You. Stealing all of my hoodies, cooking breakfast for us, me bringing home your favorite smoothie on the weekend. To be honest, I don't really need any wishes because I'm already the lucky one. But will you make me the luckiest man and let me be your husband?”
Your lips jut out, quivering as tears fall down your cheeks. You can't even form words right now so you just nod frantically, unable to speak. He slips the ring onto your finger, and you throw yourself into his arms, laughing and crying at the same time.
“You’re unbelievable,” you whisper as he kisses you again, deeper this time, stealing the breath from your lungs.
He smiles against your lips. “I take it that’s a yes?”
“Of course, it’s a yes,” you reply, pulling him closer. “You big, cheesy romantic.”
He laughs, his forehead resting against yours. “Told you, you'll love my suprise”
And you do. With the stars above, the quiet of the snowy park, and the warmth of his love, you know you’ve found your universe in him.
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wcnderlnds · 3 days ago
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saving the world | peter maximoff
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・❥・summary: when the weirdo at the coffee shop turns out to be a superhero ・❥・warnings: none! ・❥・word count: 1k ・❥・authors note: if you saw this posted earlier no you didnt (i messed it up) 😭 but first peter fic of the year lets go!!
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The delicious smell of coffee invaded your senses the second you stepped foot into the small little coffee shop you worked at. The morning shift was your least favourite but at least your co-worker always seemed to arrive early enough to get the coffee brewing. It was another task you could tick off your schedule for the day. As you made your way to the back to grab your apron, you noticed the head of silver hair that you’d seen around lately. He was hunched over, flipping pages on some comic book. You guessed he just enjoyed the place — coffee shops always seemed to have the best kind of vibes.
However, as the day went on, he stayed put flipping through the comic book that never seemed to end until you noticed there was a stack of them on the table now. He hadn’t left so did he bring that many with him? Was he really spending his day sitting in a coffee shop? Whispering to your co-worker to take over the cash register, you headed over to the silver haired boy, pot of coffee in your hand.
“Want a drink or anything?” You asked, holding up the coffee in a gesture. “It is a coffee shop after all.”
“No, thanks,” he shook his head, offering you a small smile.
“Okaaaay.” You’d just turned around to go back to the counter when you heard him call out for you again. You span on your heels, turning back around to face him.
“Do you work here everyday?” He peered over the top of the current comic book he was reading, brown eyes meeting yours. “I mean, I’ve been here every day this week and I feel like you’re on every shift.”
You sighed. “Got to make money somehow, huh? What about you? Don’t you have a job? Or do you just like spending all your time at a coffee shop doing nothing?”
“I save the world and stuff, no biggie.”
“Yeah, okay.”
With a laugh, thinking this man was crazy, you headed back to the counter. It was always the cute guys that ended up being a little weird. Unfortunate, really, because he was cute. The silver hair, the deep brown eyes – he had a unique look, one that you were sure had most people swooning. That included you. Too bad he seemed like he was crazy. Saving the world? Maybe in his little delusional brain.
A couple of weeks passed and he was in every day. You’d found out through another brief conversation with him again that his name was Peter. He always seemed willing to talk, like he was surprised that someone actually wanted to talk to him. In fact, he often struck up conversation with you as you worked. It was nice, actually. Maybe he was a weirdo but he seemed sweet. The only problem was that now you were starting to think about him when you were at home. As you’d sit on the couch watching your favourite show, you’d think about whether Peter would like it or not, making a note to ask him. Or finding new songs to share with him. You’d found out he was a big music fan – he’d even brought you a mixtape one day full of all his favourite artists. It had become your favourite thing to listen to.
As you walked into work one day, your heart sank when you noticed Peter wasn’t sat in usual seat. The day progressed and he still hadn’t shown up. Anxiety gripped you, your brain automatically thinking the worst. Something must have happened to him. Why else wasn’t he here? Unless he’d found somewhere else to occupy his time. The thought alone made your heart ache. Damnit, you’d really started to fall for this weirdo who sat in your coffee shop all day.
The sound of the TV in the corner drew your attention, a news piece about the latest disaster in town. Something about how the X-Men had saved the day. You were about to turn away when you saw that familiar head of silver hair on the TV donned in one of the infamous X-Men suits. You blinked, confusion etched all over your features until it dawned on you, his words from weeks ago echoing in your mind. 
I save the world and stuff, no biggie.
He really hadn’t been lying. All this time you’d thought he was just pulling your leg but turns out he really was out saving the world. He was part of the friggin’ X-Men. How hadn't you put that together? He must be a new addition to the team or you hadn’t been paying enough attention lately.
A gust of wind blew the door open and before you could even process it, Peter was stood in front of you, his hair a windswept mess as his gloved hands pulled the goggles over his eyes onto his head. “I’m so sorry I’m late. Was busy….”
“....saving the world and stuff?” You cut him off, a smile tugging at your lips. He grinned, pointing his finger at you jokingly. 
���Didn’t believe me, did ya? I’d never tell a lie to a pretty thing like yourself.”
“Shutup.”
“Ha! Made you blush. So, hey, you think you could get me a coffee? I’m pretty spent.”
His request took you off guard for a moment. He never requested a drink so it took a moment for your brain to process it. “Uh, yeah…”
“While you’re at it, take your break and have a coffee with me. I was going to ask you on a date today but with all of that stuff happening, didn’t really go as planned so… why not just make it happen now, huh?” He folded his arms across his chest, his lips upturned in a cocky grin. He was so damn confident that you were going to join him and… he was right.
You called to your co-worker that you were taking your break, throwing your apron off and into the back. A first date at your work place wasn’t ideal but nothing about Peter seemed normal anyway. In fact, it seemed perfect.
taglist: @marchsfreakshow @ldydeath @bohnerrific69 @evansroses @mistysconcilium @decaf-mother @lacucarachapisser @strawb3rrystar @honeymoon8 @urmomsg1rlfreind
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Note
Ok hear me out…Drunk Karaoke, with any girls *ahem M16 ahem*, where their s/o gets a little too tipsy and starts singing to them when s/o’s favourite song comes on
I’m sorry I’ve been playing payday2 so much and have unironically been singing this banger while doing chores -
I will give you my all, pretty baby, I'll come whenever you call for me, baby, yeah
I will give you the best of me
The best of me, The best of me
(H:SR) Fugue and Serval's S/O getting drunk and singing Karaoke
Alternative Titles: Like a Butterfly/TONIGHT
You know, I was actually listening to a song that made me think of Fugue, and this gives me the perfect excuse. Girl deserves to laugh anyway with what she's been through. Fugue gets the all star treatment with a short fic since this particular brainworm has taken hold of me for the last few days for her specifically. Meanwhile, I'll be twisting the ask a little and having Serval be the lead singer, but you'll see the reason for that. Content: Yakuza Karaoke Jumpscares, Funny for Fugue, Feels for Serval Word Count for Fugue's Part: 1.4k
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Fugue and S/O took a while to reconnect, considering all that had happened. It was not a smooth transition, and to imply otherwise would be a bold-faced lie.
But through some perseverance from both parties, things had gotten to some sense of normalcy again. Quiet moments of getting to drink tea with S/O, watching the people stroll by got her to remember in flashes of what she loves.
And more importantly, who she loves as well. Though, tonight was a bit different. Instead of tea, S/O opted to drink something a bit more alcholic.
And for some odd reason, alarms began ringing in Fugue's head, but she couldn't quite place why. Instead of intervening, she decided to let S/O drink and find out for herself why this premonition came to her.
Only to realize that even in her current state, her past self was warning her: For the love of god, do NOT LET S/O DRINK.
A warning that came too late, she feared.
(S/O) HIC! "Ah! Now THAT hits the spot!"
Fugue ears slightly recoiled at their volume, a foreboding sense of deja vu washing over her.
(Fugue) "I-I see...How often did we go drinking together, out of curiousity?"
S/O turned to face their lover, slightly off balance and red in the face as they frowned, struggling to remember.
(S/O) "Hmmmmm....Iunno. We just drank some tea and stuff. You never let me drink, usually."
(Fugue) I think I'm beginning to remember why.
Fugue was only lost in her thoughts for a moment longer before S/O smiled at her, causing to become slightly flustered under their attention.
(Fugue) "S/O?"
(S/O) "You're so beautiful..."
The way they had said it sounded like it took every fiber of their being to say it correctly, a fact that made Fugue giggle, her own affection barely being contained by her smile.
(Fugue) "Always the charmer, I see.~"
Fugue finishes the rest of her tea before moving over to help S/O up, effortlessly dragging them to stand as one arm was looped around her neck.
...Strange. She can't help but feel like this used to be harder to do. Oh well, this is probably the one of the few things she can't complain that's different now.
Before she can even take a single step, she immediately gets startled by S/O who suddenly stands upright on their own.
(S/O) "I WANT TO SING WITH YOU!"
(Fugue) "...W-Wha-?"
They grab her shoulders gently, yet firm enough that causes her to freeze in place as her tail and ears shoot up in surprise.
(S/O) hic! "We should sing the night away with some music!"
(Fugue) "Karaoke? Well, I suppose there are a few bars here that host-"
(S/O) "GREAT, LET'S GO!"
(Fugue) "W-WAH?!"
Getting dragged along to one of the nearby bars in the Loufou, S/O rented a room to themselves, with S/O excitedly sitting down and taking a peek through the song list.
Fugue meanwhile felt like she was suddenly in over her head. She knew that she had a nice voice, but enough to sing?
Regardless of what kind of singing voice she possessed, S/O was not going to let her dwell on it.
(S/O) "Okay, you can take the lead and I'll be your backup vocals!"
(Fugue) "You want me to be the lead singer? I think you should-"
(S/O) "NAH!"
S/O flopped their head onto her lap, making her jump slightly.
(S/O) "I'm...a little gone right now...Besides, this song I wanna hear your voice, it's my favorite!"
Fugue took the song list from S/O and examined the title.
(Fugue) "Like a Butterfly?"
She tried scrounging whatever scrap of memory was in her head, and nothing came up, though the name didn't exactly stir anything either. As if sensing her thoughts, S/O grabbed the list back and put it on the Karaoke Machine.
(S/O) "I...didn't really tell you about this song. It's a bit of a guilty pleasure, to be honest!"
That at least made her feel a little better, fearing that she was forgetting yet another important memory, and instead just something-
...Wait, why was S/O embarrassed to show this to her?
(S/O) "I always sing the rap parts by myself, but now I have you to sing the lady's part!"
Drunk rapping? Oh boy.
(Fugue) "Well...I'll give it my best shot...!"
(S/O) "Great, we have all night!"
Well, at least this night would be something to remember, for better or worse.
[Song: Like a Butterfly]
Fugue swayed from side to side as the beat of the song kicked in, meanwhile S/O was bobbing their head violently, grabbing their microphone and shouting with their entire heart as their part came first.
(S/O) "BE REBORN! CLIMB OUT OF HELL, BORN AGAIN! LET'S FLY HIGH LIKE A BUTTERFLY!"
Fugue smiled and grabbed her own microphone, singing timidly in comparison to S/O's manic energy.
(Fugue) "It's drowning in its greed, the wicked trap was sprung, Tangled in the threads of its deeds!"
From the lyrics alone, Fugue could tell that she would like this song as well.
(S/O) "TANGLED IN ITS CRIMES!"
Fugue tapped her foot as the song got faster, being infected by S/O's energy, her eyes on them the entire time as both of them smiled, her voice growing louder as she sang her next part.
(Fugue) "Like fate scoops up a fish, struggling in a net Its brittle wings are torn by the tears as it trembles in cold sweat!" (S/O) "YOU TORE YOUR WINGS NOW CRY!"
S/O was clapping to the rhythm, getting Fugue more into the feel and just having fun at this point, neither of them particularly caring if they were great. While Fugue's voice was bewitching, S/O's voice came crashing like a fingernail to chalkboard.
(Fugue) "The spider comes, a thirst in its eyes-" (S/O) "A BUTTERFLY WITH NO WINGS IS A MOTH IN THE FLAME! JUST A RAT ON THE FLOOR WITH ANOTHER NAME!"
Subconsciously, Fugue could tell why S/O sang this alone as the rapping was ridiculous, but she could not deny that this was really fun to sing along to with another person, lover or otherwise.
(Fugue) "The venomous fangs sink into the soul-" (S/O) "THIS WORLD IS DEAD, NO LIGHT LEFT TO FIND! IT'S TOO LATE-"
Fugue joined S/O in standing up, both of them swaying to the beat, though S/O's was far more aggressive as they sang their parts like they were rapping on stage, something that made her almost break down laughing.
(Fugue) "Too late now, to mourn it's punctured wings, to take to the sky!" (S/O) "TAKE TO THE SKY!"
With any former hesitation gone, Fugue smiled as she just enjoyed the rest of the song with her lover enthusiastically cheering her on by remaining on backup vocals.
If only it could be, just one more time (TO THE BITTER END IN OVERDRIVE!) Engrave the beat, flap your wings 'til you feel you are complete (FLY, HIGH!) Oh you tragic butterfly Despairing, craving it, that singular last ray of light still shining down on bitter wings (BE REBORN, CLIMB OUT OF HELL BORN AGAIN! LET'S FLY HIGH LIKE A BUTTERFLY! YOU'VE DREAMED LONG OF THIS DAY, DREAM AGAIN!) So fly high again (AND FLY HIGH LIKE A BUTTERFLY!)
Like a butterfly (TO THE BITTER END OVERDRIVE,BURNING OUT IN AN ENDLESS DRIVE!) Soaring in the sky like a butterfly (TO THE BITTER END OVERDRIVE, BURNING OUT IN AN ENDLESS DRIVE- OH YEAAAAAAAAAH!)
Fugue couldn't hold back her laughter anymore, doubly so when S/O finished off the song.
(S/O) "FLY LIKE A BEAUTIFUL BUTTERFLY, FLY LIKE A BEAUTIFUL BUTTERFLY!"
Finally catching her breath, Fugue sat back down, still laughing as S/O cheered, flopping down next to her and struggling to catch theirs.
(S/O) "Like the song?"
(Fugue) "Hm, not my usual style admittedly but...I do resonate with the lyrics."
(S/O) "Hm...? Why's that?"
...Oh right, they were still drunk. As if their "singing" wasn't reminder enough. But, honestly just something as simple as singing a dumb song was enough to lighten her spirit, and though it didn't call any particular memory to mind, it was something like this that reminded why 'Tingyun' fell in love with S/O in the first place.
Though, she figured she'd better take the song's advice and start focusing on new memories, rather than any old one for now.
(Fugue) "Well, what other songs do you have for us?"
Seeing their eyes glimmer at that, S/O began rushing through the song list for another one, all the while Fugue's smile grew even bigger.
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(S/O) "SERVAAAAAAL!"
Serval was nearly glomped by S/O, causing her to laugh and set her drink far away from the edge of the table.
(Serval) "Oof, hey! Think ya had enough?"
From their breath and flushed face, that answer was most definitely a-
(S/O) "Heh, nope!"
S/O rested their head on her shoulder, almost threatening to yank her off.
(S/O) "I want to sing a song with you!"
(Serval) "Hm, is that right?"
After a few hiccups and almost losing their balance, they nodded aggressively.
As funny as it would be to have their drunk ass sing some rock and roll...She had a different idea in mind.
(Serval) "I'll cut you a better deal, you get to hear a song I've been working on by myself! An exclusive sneak peek!"
S/O's eyes glowed and they stumbled onto a nearby chair.
(S/O) "Y-Yeah! I wanna hear it!"
Though Serval was smiling, there was a hint of sadness in it.
That hint being big enough for S/O to catch onto it, even when alcohol was scrambling their senses.
(S/O) "...Babe, something wrong?"
Serval laughed at the petname and shook her head, uncharacteristically becoming shy as her finger tapped the table.
(Serval) "Not really just...This song isn't my usual kinda style, ya know? Don't wanna bore you to death with it."
(S/O) "Nothing you could share to me could ever be boring! I...just might pass out from the alcohol is all."
Serval rolled her eyes.
(Serval) "Gee, that makes me feel better."
(S/O) "Just shut up and grab your guitar already!"
Serval took a deep breath and grabbed her guitar and hooked up her phone to play the other instrumental parts she had done herself, looking at S/O, and then to the ceiling and closing her eyes.
(Serval) "I've kept this one hidden for a while, thought it might be a bit too personal but...Eh, what the heck. This one goes out to...a friend now gone."
S/O's smile grew more somber at that, having an inkling of who she was talking about.
[Song: Tonight -restart from this night-]
Serval's pick began strumming along the strings of her guitar, as she began singing, her tone growing much more heartfelt.
(Serval) "Back in the day, I thought I was strong, that I was the one who could right every wrong, Years roll on by, time does what it does, so hard to hold on to the people we love."
Serval's foot was tapping in rhythm, her eyes catching a glance at S/O, their hand doing the same. Smiling softly at that, she continued her song.
(Serval) "I've lost count of the days, And though I never stop thinking of you, We have gone our separate ways-"
Serval's mind rushed back with memories, where S/O was sitting, Cocolia was there, hanging off every word she was singing with a bright smile.
And that made Serval forget entirely about her mini stage-fright, singing as if there was no audience at all and simply speaking from the heart now.
So, tonight, let's start again From this night, rewrite the way it ends You and I would laugh And sing all night like we'd always meant
Part of her wondered if the Cocolia she knew would poke fun at her, thinking this song was a bit too sappy for what Serval usually did.
Would this song have even moved the Supreme Guardian at all?
Maybe. Serval would never know.
So, tonight, you'll find me there The nights we shared in places drinks would flow And the sun never rose And life meant living the life we chose
If I could relive the moment we drifted apart I'd right every wrong for you Whatever life asks from me, I will do Just to see you smile and waste a night with you
Serval closed out the song with a final strum, letting the instrumentals finish it out.
After opening her eyes again, she saw S/O with tears welling in their eyes, rubbing them aggressively with their sleeves.
The sight got her to laugh a little, despite the fact a part of her felt like tearing up as well.
(S/O) "That...song is beautiful! Why don't you play that?!"
(Serval) "Hah...maybe someday, but like I said, I'm still working out some little tidbits here and there on it."
(S/O) "Then...Then I can sing it instead!"
That had Serval suddenly burst into laughter, nearly dropping her guitar.
(Serval) "Maybe when I can't smell the drink you had all the way from here, I'll consider it!"
Serval shook her head and sat next to S/O, wiping away the tear on their cheek with her thumb.
(Serval) "How 'bout a different song huh? I can play it for ya, and you can scream like an idiot!"
(S/O) "Hey!"
Smiling at their pout, S/O was doing a good job of lifting her spirits already. Thanks to them, and many others, she wouldn't stay in the past.
...But, she'd be lying if she said she wouldn't want her best friend back.
Maybe for S/O, and the Cocolia she knew, she'd play that song for a real audience someday.
...But not tonight.
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vyl3tpwny · 1 day ago
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genuine question: why is genesis so low on ur topsters?
also, if you can: could i hear why hawaii: part ii is rated 3.5 on ur rateyourmusic? (as opposed to like. anything higher)
(p. s. your music inspires me to be the sincerest version of myself, and for that i thank you. the impact you've had on my life is unforgettable.)
genesis isn't rated low. my number one album of all time is genesis' "the lamb lies down on broadway", for about 16 years running. my topster is organized by relative colour, it's not perfect but it just looks nice!
when it comes to talking about music, what i like and like about it, almost 100% of the time i NEVER want to discourage people, talk down to artists, or claim my opinion as fact. the only time i will actively talk down about art is if it's purposefully harmful (see artists like: Tom Macdonald, etc).
with that said, music by miracle musical - and by extension tally hall - often does this thing where there are a handful of really impressive, well written songs that just blow me away. but then the rest of the album outside of those handful of songs are either just ok/catchy or don't interest me very much. the tally hall gang's highs are very high, and equally their lows are just sort of pace-killers for the albums.
it's dynamics like these that prevent me from liking some of my other albums for similar problems! i think albums like queen of misfits and glitter are bogged down by an absurd amount of boring filler that could have just been left out or reworked to be more interesting, it makes it hard to ever listen to those albums front to back. ironically i don't feel that way about fairytails, my 40-song long ass album, almost everything in it still feels rather purposeful to me. i listen to my own music a lot, and once i've finished a project i tend to try and listen to it and enjoy it from an audience perspective rather than an artist one.
while i'm on the topic, i don't necessarily agree with even rating hawaii pt. ii 3.5 because in the past few years i've completely lost interest in the idea of weighing albums by arbitrary scores. nowadays i like to just give 4-5's to albums i like and then ignore anything else. it doesn't really make sense to me to assign a number score to something with good faith, other than to show that score to other people. interfacing with art is not a black and white process. despite the so-called 3.5/5.0 score i gave hawaii pt. ii whenever that was, the reality is that record has influenced me and i've enjoyed it. honestly that's what matters the most. we can sit here and talk album dynamics, technicalities, compositional proficiency, lyric profundity, and """""consistency"""""" (which is a word music critics love to throw around without actually realizing what the fuck they're talking about) all day, but what matters the most is:
Did you like the music? (Yes/No)
Did it inspire you in some way? (Yes/No) [Optional]
Does it seek to do harm? (Yes/No)
Do you respect the efforts and goals of the artist? (Yes/No) [Should always be the inverse of Question 3; i.e; if you answer No to 3, then you should answer Yes to 4]
honestly if you answer yes, yes, no, yes, then it's a good album. i really don't care. not every piece of art has to push the envelope to new heights and be the most innovative thing in the world - i mean wouldn't that be extremely fatiguing and overwhelming? everyone wants to be a critic and tear down shit that doesn't click with them within the first viewing/listen these days, i don't know why, it's probably an ego thing, bred by the echo chambers in the corners of the internet. but a lot of music criticism can be COMPLETELY discarded in favour of "this just isn't for me", and a lot of people go leaps and bounds, doing mental gymnastics over internal compensations, to just avoid saying the dreaded phrase of "this just isn't for me".
trust me, i'm someone who has immense experience with tearing other people down to compensate for my internal insecurities, it happens extremely often which is why a lot of art criticism makes ZERO fucking sense. it's never about making meaningful commentary about anything, it's always just trying to justify in the format of a dissertation - the subjective experience of "this just isn't for me".
so. do i like hawaii pt. ii? yep. is it a perfect album? no. why did i rate it 3.5? probably because at the time i wanted someone somewhere to perceive me as Very Articulated and Well Educated In The Realm of Discussing Art In Front of Other People, in Order to Appear Superior in Intellect and Refined in Taste, Because I'm Insecure Just Like Everyone Else.
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katzkinder · 2 days ago
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@ky-kyu you asked about gluttony pair and it got kinda long so I decided to make it a separate post for the sake of people's dashboards. Also, I have another post here!
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But I have more thoughts on them thanks to this page Yarra shared earlier, and many more besides, but I'll stick to this scene because otherwise this will really turn into a monster.
the wording nicco uses in the right panel is pretty moving, especially in relation to gluttony, at least in my opinion, and these scene between them is what really made me fall in love with these two as characters who were, quite literally, made for one another.
Basically, it's about how the opposite of Gluttony is a banquet.
Having so much excess and sharing it with others, allowing someone to fill their plate without worry because you know you have more, and how that relates to Nicco being the Eve who has an entire group of people surrounding him at all times, something which makes him unique as far as the main cast go because he's always being supported. The other Eves don't really have like... An entire group of human characters they're close with the way Nicco does.
A banquet without guests will simply rot and go to waste. Nicco, being a mafia boss, brings all those guests with him and allows them to partake of what he has to offer.
Food tastes the best when you share it with someone you love, and your joy is multiplied through their own. The joy of a shared meal cannot be understated. Even terrible food becomes fun when you have someone to laugh about it with. Even failure becomes tolerable when you share it.
And it's just. One of the first moments of big characterization we get from Ildio when we see his past is that he is a man who shares what little he has, even though he acknowledges that he has earned it, and the little slave girl has not. Even that far back, when his only desires went as far as an animal understanding of life, he was someone who could have, and probably did, draw in others around him for that unthinking kindness, so I really love how Nicco handles his problems. Because they actually share a similar fault
Both of them will attempt to take on too much for themselves to bear, and yet they can't help it. To defend the weak is what they feel they must do.
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Gluttons for punishment, as it goes
And yet...
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To be able to share the pain and the joys, to have a feast with one another with life as the centerpiece…
I think it's just… Extremely beautiful, the way their love for their fellow man is able to express itself
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And I think it's even more beautiful, the way that even when being beat to a pulp, Nicco takes the time to look and see and experience the pain Ildio doesn't even realize he's holding onto
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He doesn't let Inner Gluttony distract him. He doesn't entertain the demon attempting, however poorly, to shelter Ildio's heart by putting the blinders on. He speaks to him as an equal. As a friend. As someone who is worth listening to, and cherishing. He helps Ildio to face his grief.
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He gives Ildio the same love he would give to any friend. Bite by bite, tear by tear, Nicco shares the burden Ildio tried to be Atlas about.
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The song Nicco sings while they dance with the people they've loved and lost is Ciuri Ciuri. It's a Sicilian folksong, whose title means "Flowers, Flowers"
The verse Strike has carefully written out on the page translates to "Flowers flowers, flowers all the year. The love you gave me, I give you back"
And the love Nicco gives to Ildio...
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Ildio will give back to him.
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seasaltmemories · 3 days ago
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Top AMVs of 2024 - 10-1
A more in-depth breakdown of what I am doing can be found here, as well as the past entries here. Today’s entries are as follows:
10. Maybe the Real Friends Were the Dungeons We Ate Along the Way by Moonpie AMVs
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Audio: Friends by Flight of the Concords
Visuals: Dungeon Meshi
Considering our hobby is all about timing visuals with music, I am surprised that when it comes to comedy amvs, I don’t see many discussions about comedic timing. And well if you were wanting a cool breakdown of how the two work, I can’t really give it either, but Moonpie’s work here might be just as good teacher.
In comparison to other comedy amvs I have discussed, this one isn’t really going for big laugh out loud moments as opposed to a generally goofy and lighthearted atmosphere. But considering the breezy pace of the song, it really works to keep the jokes coming and the actual flow not to get bogged down as well. Reaction shots like at 0:51 and 1:24 do a lot to help sell punchlines/add to the humor without worrying about getting in the weeds of literal lyric sync, and overall by the end it is still able to sell you on the sweetness of the group’s friendship, all shenanigans aside. And while I don’t read/watch the series, it is really nice to get reminded that these guys like each other.
9: He’s a Zombie by TheLazyDaze
youtube
Audio: Good Grief by Bastille
Visuals: When Sato-kun Died
And here we get to the last summer mmv exchange vid, the gift I personally received. If you forgot this list wasn’t extremely biased, now is a good reminder, but even if Daze wasn’t editing with one of my “titular dead bf” mangas, there is a lot to love.
She’s always been an excellent mmv editor, but this vid in particular is packed with so many great details. The foot sliding into the panel at 0:23, the hand animation at 1:08, the undressing animation at 1:29. I could list more, but you’re probably just better off reading my original youtube comment.
Funny enough I wasn’t a big fan of this song before this vid (although I generally like Bastille). But in the end it is such a great match for the series blend of slice of life and drama. There’s lingering sadness over the fact that he really *is* a zombie, but more time is spent showing what will be missed and enjoying the good memories they do have.
8. The Amazon by PieandBeer (CW: Gore & Nudity)
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Audio: Brazil by Declan Mckenna
Visuals: Devilman Crybaby
The first time I watched this vid, I was certain it wasn’t going to work. The breezy guitars are tonally far from what I associate with Devilman Crybaby; however as I got past the instrumental opening, I found the visual rhythm of the vid too intentional not to get into. The vid was less dissonant than I anticipated, but instead contained a surprising amount of resonance.
This might be one of the more obtuse vids on this list. Even with knowledge of the source material and a full read-through of the lyrics on Genius, it is hard to summarize this vid down to one pithy sentence. As disillusioned as the lyrics are and and as intense as the violence is on screen, whenever we cut back to just the two leads, their tenderness is so sweet it hurts. It feels like a bit of a ink blot test where how you interpret it has more to do with what you bring to it, and for me it just invokes this feeling where you know the relationship with someone is done, yet you can’t help but keep reaching out to them. If you like your vids moody and introspective like me, I think there is a lot to enjoy unpacking here.
7. DO YOU WANT TO FUCK A GOOSE OR NOT? by keiichiface
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Audio: My Brother My Brother and Me
Visuals: Princess Tutu, Lucky Star
Listen I ship the dude and the “goose” of Princess Tutu so I was gonna be a fan regardless but keiichiface went above and beyond to elevate the audio. Just combining the two sources already adds a lot. By going literal with a talk show totally outside the world of this man and his love affair with a water fowl, there is a expressive lip sync and that meta element to play with. And even when she is working with Princess Tutu footage itself, keiichiface keeps finding creative things to do. I especially love when the concept art gets brought hastily masked in for some ultra specific lyric sync. The rough edges only add to the charm, giving it a quirky vibe without detaching from the more impressive technical elements.
All types of art deserved to be celebrated. Even if there’s isn’t a lot meaningful or deep I can extrapolate about goosefucking in particular, there’s no denying that when it comes to shitposts, keiichiface is a master of the craft.
6. Our Neighborhood Has Changed by Obsidian Zero
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Audio: Souvenir by The Midnight
Visuals: Kimba the White Lion
As much I love my sad stories, I am rarely the type to cry over something fictional. So out of all the vids I expected to work past my defenses, I didn’t expect it to be a Kimba vid. Still Obsidian Zero finds incredible emotional material by soundtracking a story of pouching and ecological destruction with nostalgic yearning for a past that cannot be returned to.
There’s a specific element of powerlessness this amv taps into that is really palpable. Similar to ctrl alt delete, we end on a moment of denied catharsis. It’s not a matter of mourning and moving on from one death or loss, but grief by a thousand paper cuts and loneliness that’s much more difficult to process. Add that in with great moments like Kimba swimming to the opening guitar riffs and or the impeccable gun sync, and you got a little lion that leaves a large impact.
5. Catch and Release by BecauseImBored1
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Audio: Houdini by Dua Lipa
Visuals: Saint Tail
This is the platonic ideal of a lot of what I look for in amvs tbh. I will always love it when an editor takes a song I might have heard but not given much thought to, pairs it with a combo that, in retrospect, feels like it was made for, and then wraps up the entire package with tight flow and clever sync. The trick is more difficult to pull off then I make it sound, but BecauseImBored is honestly a pro at this exact thing.
If I had to describe this vid in one word I’d go with “bouncy.” There’s a lot of attention given to the specific vocal inflections of Dua Lipa’s voice for a lot of fun moments of sync. And thanks to that tight control of the vid’s flow from scene to scene, it is easy to get swept up in the excitement and miss some of the subtle overlays and masked transitions BecauseImBored1 has under her sleeve. All in all, just every shot of this is delightfully paced to the point you’re left satisified by the end of the vid and yet are still itching to press replay again.
4. AND YOU CAN’T COME by Troubleclef (CW: Sexual Grooming)
youtube
Audio: Harder to Kill by Carter Vail
Visuals: Chainsaw man
Juggling multiple tones in a video is a tricky task. Most songs aren’t full stories and are more snapshots of one idea. And even when you get in the 5 minute + range, that is still not that much time in the grand scheme of things to establish set up, payoff and then repeat the process all over again when you pivot to a new topic.
1:33-1:46 alone is an amazing sequence, condensing a lot of harsh and heavy storytelling down to just enough implication to make out what it is happening in between shots. I consider it to be this vid’s best part but what makes it such an effective bridge is what it is sandwiched between. The first half of the vid is light-hearted and boyish, concerned just as much with heartbreak as it is food and fun. But even after the turn, we’re still left with this grasping incomplete understanding of the situation. As Denji whirls around from building to building and we cut between grasping hands and looming eyes, it feels as if he is trying to put the pieces together, but can only get so far. The final section of the song, where the vid gets its title from is equally childish, but it fully captures this inability to fully process the horrors you are currently going through, even as you are feeling the full effects of it.
3. The Keeper by Elixir
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Audio: The Keeper by Kai Wachi
Visuals: Jujutsu Kaisen
I had a friend who was curious why more vids didn’t use rap. And while I had my personal theories from my corner about how much was due to only looking in certain corners of the community and how much was other facts, this vid is probably the best argument for what the rest of us might be missing out on.
Going back to my “sum up a vid into one word” challenge, the one I would use here is intense. Not only does Elixir lean into the horror-influenced elements of JJK, but the song itself is full of all sorts of unnerving musical motifs that adds to the oppressive atmosphere. By the end of my first viewing, I had to take a deep breath just to release all he tension that had been building up. However even on a less visceral rewatch, there are so many great moments. Elixir uses a lot of fun internal sync for the standout sounds like the drill noise or screams. I love the focus on close-combat when the flow switches up at 1:36.
Overall the vid is like a great horror movie. Even when you know what jump-scares are coming, everything is set-up and executed so well you can appreciate them on both an emotional and intellectual level.
2: Disco Expansion: Infinite Rizz by Ileia
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Audio: Feels Like by Outasight
Visuals: Jujutsu Kaisen
And now for something completely different. To steal a joke from someone much funnier than me.
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This vid dropped early in the year, but after seeing it I was already convinced this was gonna be one of my faves for 2024. Ileia’s flow is consistently slick and engaging, no matter the genre or subject matter, but centering a vid around Gojo’s new and invented disco powers gave her a lot more opportunities to get flashy with her tech work. All the overlays are great, my fave being the sound wave lengths at 0:28 and 0:31, but the transitions at 1:22 and 1:28 are no slouches either.
In contrast to The Keeper, here the horror elements are used cheekily. Some of the scene selection feels handpicked to cause physic damage to fans of the series, but even without context, it is hard to miss the punchline of heads rolling perfectly on beat. My fave moment has to be when Toji comes up and starts to sing along/fight. It just encapsulates how this vid keeps the perfect amount of goofy energy going without sacrificing a lick of its explosive momentum.
1: Velodrome by sandelwoodbox
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Audio: Veldrome by Dessa
Visuals: Silo
My love for amvs and art as a whole tends to come from a love for character and narrative, the idea of narrowing a focus down to something direct and intentional. Even when I know there is no way for an outsider to get what is going on, I always strive to at least include some level of internal logic and progression for myself. Which is why I find myself to a certain degree to be even more drawn to vids that go in the opposite direction, that not only embrace that wider broad focus, but still maintain thematic cohesion.
More than any one character, Velodrome profiles an entire alternative society. While familiar faces pop up several times, no one voice or perspective stands out. Instead the lives of scientists, blue collar laborers, and children all weave together to paint a picture of place as beautiful as it is horrifying. The stairs that boys and girls slide down are the same stairs men fall to their death (a striking motif that syncs with nature fall of the singer’s inflection.) Most dystopian art focus on their attention on the injustice, the evil that consumes a place, but sandelwoodbox takes the time to show that a deeply wrong world can be one that still contains so much joy. And furthermore this fact only heightens why the injustice is so perverse in the first place. Even under amidst suffering, people continue to live, fight, and love. The editing carries that same restless energy, never truly coming to a still until the final shot.
As much as I love art, I don’t like acting like my tastes have to mean something. But if I have to wrap this up with a bow, Velodrome embodies both the sum of any work’s parts and the parts itself deserve equal love and attention.
~
Thanks for sticking around through my list and going on this new venture with me. A playlist containing all this vids, from number 1 to my honorable mentions can be found here. Looking forward to another year of great amvs!
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10thmusemoon · 2 days ago
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Askbox title/word game!! Let's see *checks my list of song lyrics that would make great fic titles*
Title: it's a relief when it goes wrong
Alternatively, word: esuriant
oooh this would be a comedic modern QiJiu fic, SJ centered, where he has a string of boyfriends that are 100% convinced that they are The One. They've listened to all the times he's complained about his terrible ex husband and have decidedly done none of those things that piss Shen Jiu off.
(somehow, this still pisses Shen Jiu off)
They're doing SO WELL, they are communicating and doing their best to anticipate his triggers and boundaries, so certain that they are the ones that will help Shen Jiu finally move on.
(cue the pitying stares from cumplane)
Only for SJ to be the one to break it off the second he even hears a hint of YQY doing something that could possibly indicate he's trying to move on.
"What does your ex buying a houseplant have anything to do with us?"
"Why are you still here? I have a knife, leave before I use it!"
-
"Jiu-ge...YQY started volunteering at an animal shelter..."
Shen Jiu, engagement ring thrown out the window, four inch red sole Louboutins on. "I'm five minutes away."
-
It's a never ending self destructive cycle where SJ can't stand the possibility of not being the center of YQY's world but also fears being the one that Ruins It For Good when they are together. So he constantly leaves knowing he can come back, YQY will always open his arms to him if SJ is the one that initiates it. There is no way they can grow to resent one another in the relationship if they are not together long enough for the spark to disappear.
For YQY, he's a defeatist and will let SJ leave, if that's what SJ thinks is best. But at the same time, it's gratifying that time and time again, SJ always comes back to him. All he needs to do is be a little patient.
Things are "fine" until YQY actually talks about this in therapy and his therapist points out (at this point already having deciphered yqy doesn't do things for Himself) that always taking SJ back, always leaving that opportunity open, just keeps SJ in a cycle of heart break and misery. Isn't that also unfair to him?
[YQY, gripping the chair arm, gritting his teeth.]:...i see
Which leads YQY to going on his first not-SJ date in years. He tries to keep it on the dl, so as not ruin SJ's current relationship, unfortunately, TLJ cannot keep his mouth shut and mentions it to his book club, who mentions it to his estranged son, who mentions it to his boyfriend SY, who has SJ on speed dial to tattle.
More than YQY buying a couch or fostering a pet, this lights a fire under SJ's ass where he decides to cut that avenue off for yqy entirely and shows up to his date to propose to himl
TLJ, clapping in the bg: wow! Amazing! Can I- SJ: why are you here, scram
For the 12th time, they move in together and SJ still leaves occasionally during arguments, but just harasses SY or SQH in the meantime before returning. The threat of divorce turns into a very intricate foreplay.
YQY, of course, fires his therapist.
Alternatively, for esuriant cw: body horror, gore, cannibalism
SJ needs, for whatever plot reason, to consume pieces of YQY to stay alive. This leads to them finding a way to clone YQY, split his consciousness into the clones, and harvest his organs as needed. If anyone found out they would be horrified and try to rescue yqy from this situation. Unfortunately, they are truly freak4freak and this is quite possibly the ultimate form of happiness that yqy can reach. There is no greater joy than lovingly preparing his(?) old body for SJ to consume, feeding him small chunks by hand and delighting in SJ's impatience when he just decides to bite yqy's neck and drink his blood.
Truly, what bliss.
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zot3-flopped · 3 days ago
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So i recently listenend to ttpd due to me always listening to all of the people that are at the grammys for this year (i just like checking out people or songs i otherwise wouldn‘t try out)
Here are my thoughts on ttpd:
In one of the songs she calls her fans vipers that called her out for dating matty. And frankly that is a big point i want to touch on. She always talked in interviews that she finds it ok to make sure people know who songs are about cause these men should feel shame. She always makes sure to be obvious so her fans can send hate towards these people. Sometimes she even makes easter eggs to hint at who it is about. Like yes the joke that ts only ever writes about exes is overdone, but she clearly always benefited from it, making this parasocial relationship even deeper. And she does this in a way that i have not seen other artists usually do. Thinking of lana, theweeknd or bruno mars- they write about their exes but you don‘t see them being this obvious and exploiting their relationship.
What i want to say is that while i am a big fan of her songs that have been personal, i don‘t take it lightly that she now suddenly dislikes fans calling her out. Either don‘t allow the fans to come close at all, or accept that you let them in and they now act like your friends who have a say in who you date. She is the victim of the own sphere she made. I don‘t feel sorry for this
I can do it with a broken heart sounds like a midnight made song and with a bit too much ego, which can lead into a place that is iffy because it feels like taylor knows she is too big to not sell well
I also don‘t take lightly that taylor had to mention kim again, which ok fine it has been years but i guess you can still be cut up about it. What i do not let slide is how she uses kim‘s child as a pawn in her play. Bringing children into your beef has always been weird, but bringing the child of your own declared „enemy“ into this to benefit from it, is not of taste. Especially because she knows her fanbase, she knows her fans will dig out said child and send hate. I mean this is like leaving a piece of sugar ourside and then acting like a victim when ants eat it. 
A lot of lyrics or idea of songs do not stick the landing. The lyrics are sometimes like a rambling. Like a person talking to their therapist or their friend. There aren‘t even proper catchy beats behind it. It is like it lacks character and the autonomy that a pop song has to make it memorable and to make it stand out. Like do i go into a ts record thinking it would be groundbreaking? No, ts always played it safe. She never gave me a more ballsy production like lana, lord or billie while also having good lyrics. But i expected at least a core to it, something to remember it by. It is sad because at her height, she can allow herself to be artistically standout ish, she can allow herself to take a step outside of this safe space, takikg an artistic risk, as i have said, because even she knows she is too big to not sell
The writing is crammed and doesn‘t have good hooks or melodies within the lyrics. And i know taylor is capable of delivering on that front usually. Folklore and everymore were lyrically well thought out, you were able to remember the lyrics and melody based only on how she sang the songs. Ttpd suffers under it‘s crammed lyrics and lack of melody even while singing the songs.
Ttpd doesn‘t have the catchy beats 1989 had, nor the buzz red had. Not even the deep cuts from lover can be compared to ttpd because ttpd feels washed out and as i said: 
just like a friend rambling to a friend about how angry she is over one guy making her wait and how he has depression and wouldn‘t commit. And how another guy love bombed her but also couldn‘t commit and she is oh soo angry about this. 
If this is all i can take away from an album with over 30 songs then there is something wrong with it
As i said i usually listen to all of grammy music for several years now, but i have always taken something from it: vocal wise, lyric wise or beat wise
This album sadly didn‘t give me anything and i would be saddened to see it awarded. If all i can take away from a music record is: she was mad as hell
Then what benefit do i get from listening to it? Nothing!!!! 
Ttpd is nothing to me
Ttpd is nothing, it is emptiness but the emptiness isn‘t impressive, isn‘t memorable
Ttpd equals nothing
Very interesting! I don't think for a minute that Poets will get an AOTY award. The reviews all criticised the lack of memorable instrumentation/melodies/production.
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loeyonline · 2 days ago
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Diet Pepsi
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Summary: After breaking up with Hendery you meet someone else and they start dating and having a better relationship, but the feelings for Hendery are still there, so one night you decide to run away with him.
Contains: infidelity, sex, bad words, alcohol, drugs, good music
Notes: Honestly, last year I said "Who the fuck is going to listen to that fucking Addison Rae song? Bro, we're talking about a Tiktoker" and here I am writing a fanfic with the theme of Diet Pepsi and being a full fan of Addison Rae, anyway Once again I show you my fantasies with Dery because I love him, he is seriously the man of my life.
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It had been 7 months after breaking up with Hendery, you lied to yourself saying that you had already healed, that you no longer thought about him and that it was time to meet someone else.
You had been Mark's girlfriend for a few weeks, he was too sweet and intelligent, he really liked listening to music and playing video games, he liked it so much that he spent most of his time ignoring you.
His dates were always going to his house to see how dark souls were playing.
You made an effort to pay attention to the game but it was so boring to just sit in front of the computer and spend hours and hours playing.
One time you stood in front of him and took off your clothes to see if he would get hard and you would fuck for a while, and it happened, They fucked well but after 10 minutes of cumming he was already sitting at the fucking computer again.
You loved Mark, but he was so fucking boring that you could swear that in the entire time you've been in a relationship you've only spoken 5 times.
One Friday at 1 in the afternoon as usual, you were sitting on Mark's bed, watching him play, but thinking about Hendery.
Hendery wouldn't treat you like that, he would talk to you and spend time with you.
He would go out with you and fuck well.
He wouldn't be so fucking boring.
"hey mark" you talk to him but apparently he is more attentive to the fucking game than to reality "mark lee" you talk to him louder so that he pays attention and he finally turns to see you.
"What's wrong dear?" He tells you and you can swear it's the first time he's seen your eyes.
"I have to go, I have pending work" you say, getting out of bed and grabbing your things.
"oh it's a shame, I'll miss you" yes of course.
You faked a smile and walked towards him to kiss him and then leave his room.
As you left his house you came up with a slightly screwed up plan.
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Hendery worked as a cashier at a 24-hour convenience store, his shifts were almost always in the morning since at night he liked to go skateboarding, smoke joints and drive around the city listening to some Ramones or Arctic Monkeys songs.
He was simple, he liked to feel the fucking vibe.
It was risky what you were going to do, but hell, mark cares more about his game than his relationship.
You entered the store and luckily for the script, Hendery was still working, when he saw you enter he went blank, because the last time he had seen you had been outside your house crying so that you wouldn't end your relationship.
You wanted to pretend that you didn't care and that you were just coming to buy your stuff and that's it, but you didn't even know what you were going to buy and it was impossible not to see how hot Dery is, even in her pathetic work uniform.
You grabbed anything, a pack of small trash bags to pick up the dog's mess (you don't have a dog) and headed over to him to pay for your bags, those stupid bags.
When they arrive and put everything on the counter the two look into each other's eyes, That sexual tension between the two of you returns and the desire to send everything to hell and start kissing at the counter is present, it's a shame that a lady and the security cameras were there watching them.
"It's 2.50" he says without closing his eyes.
“great” you reply and continue watching him.
"You have to pay" he answers, seeing that you stayed there without doing anything.
"Ah yes, yes yes" you say and give him the money, a little sad because your moment together had ended too soon, you wanted to stay and see him a little longer, and deep down, he also wanted you to stay longer.
"Buying this to pick up your man's shit? Wow, spending so much time on the computer is fucked up," he tells you, trying to start a conversation.
"Oh, what do you know about him? Don't bother him" but deep down you wanted to answer yes, that your boyfriend was a failure.
Hendery was aware of your relationship with Mark Lee, he was fine with that, he knew that he couldn't tell you anything anymore since they were nothing, that it is your life and you could do whatever you wanted.
But seeing you so pale from not going out in the sun bothers him a lot.
"You must be needy" he tells you, looking away "I can ask you out tonight, I leave at 6" and he gives you the bags in your hand with a chocolate that you had not bought but it was the one you liked "courtesy of the house"
"I won't go, I have a boyfriend"
"I know you'll come" he tells you, making his winning smile.
You decided not to answer him anymore and get out of there, although you knew that you would be back there at 6.
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What you were going to do was wrong, very wrong, what about Mark?
You returned to his house and found him as you left him, on the computer.
His appearance was sad, he had dark circles under his eyes and he smelled like Flamin Hot Cheetos.
"hey mark, what if we go out?" Trying to save your relationship with Mark a little, you invite him to go for a walk and maybe have dinner out, the solution was not to go fuck Hendery.
"Thank you girl, but I'm on a call with Jisung right now trying to pass this level and it's very important" he replies and looks at the computer again.
Screw it, it was enough "Fine, I guess I'll go" and I wasn't even listening to you properly.
It was decided, you were going to see hendery tonight, it wasn't bad, mark was with his other girlfriend jisung, you could go with hendery.
When you returned home, you got ready a little for your meeting with Hendery, you knew it wasn't going to be a quiet outing with friends.
Then it was almost 6 and you left to go to the convenience store again.
When you arrived he was there, behind the counter talking to his co-worker, he saw you and smiled victoriously, he was right. "Hey, I'll take some condoms and some drinks, deduct them from my salary please," he says to his partner and then turns to look at you, it was fucking embarrassing.
You waited for him outside the store and when he finally came out the first thing he did was jump on you to kiss you, grabbing your waist and putting his tongue in your mouth.
"Hey wait, what if they see us? People know I have a boyfriend."
"And what do I care?" he laughs and takes your arm to go to his car.
He opened the passenger door for you and you sat down, a little excited about what happened earlier, when he got into the car you noticed he was happier than normal.
"I'm glad your boyfriend gave you permission to go out with me," he answers, starting the car.
"That idiot, no tone that I had left"
"Hey don't worry, I'm going to give you all the attention that he hasn't given you"
It was so hot to talk, so satisfying.
"Where will we go?" you ask him a little nervously.
"To a motel," he replies, "of course, if we arrive and don't end up parked on the street fucking."
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The road was difficult, he didn't stop grabbing your legs, you just laughed and stole kisses from time to time.
When they arrived at the motel room the situation was even more heated.
Ok, mark was good at fucking, he was a gamer, he knew how to use his fingers well, but hendery was on another level.
He might have a doctorate in oral sex, he knew how to move his tongue well while he put his fingers in you.
"fuck dery"
"Baby, don't call me that, I'm going to break you" he tells you, super excited and with his face between your legs.
“deryyyyy” you reply knowing he will get harder.
"Fuck it"
He got up and was still between your legs, pulling down his pants, looking straight at his big erection.
"Your turn darling"
Licking his cock is so great, feeling his hands on your head, pushing more into your mouth, listening to his moans and praise.
"baby, you're everything that's right in this world" he said with his head thrown back in satisfaction "What were you doing with mark lee? Wasn't there someone better than me?" His jealousy was so hot, he looked so good being so conceited.
You took his cock out of your mouth and looked at him smiling "None of them are like your hendery."
It's wrong to be cheating on Mark Lee, it's wrong to be fucking your ex, it's really wrong to boost his ego, but fuck it, people do worse things and Hendery was so good.
His smug smile was worth a million dollars, he is the million dollar man.
After licking his cock well, I take you off of her so she can put on her condom and lubricate herself well before entering.
Feeling him inside again made you remember the first time you fucked, at your parents' house.
Him covering your mouth so you wouldn't scream, fucking you hard so you would feel all the love he has for you.
He, on the other hand, was grateful to have you again, to see you riding his cock again.
None of the girls he had been with were as good as you.
After riding him for a few minutes, you got off and now fucked him doggy style.
As you clung to the covers of that dirty place and he grabbed your hips tightly (slapping your butt from time to time) you notice how your phone starts to ring.
Without stopping fucking, you grab him and see how the screen shows that Mark was calling you.
Hendery notices it from his position and his reaction was to laugh "Answer him, poor guy must be worried about you."
Hendery didn't stop moving, he kept putting it deeper and deeper.
"Okay, but please control yourself," you tell him and he listens to you for a few minutes.
So you answer the call “Hello?
"Princess, hey, sorry, I didn't want to ignore you, I'm an idiot," he looked really embarrassed.
"Hey no, it's okay, don't apologize, I'm fine" Hendery tried to hold back his laughter since he knew the situation. "Yes, nice Mark, she's great," he murmurs and moves again.
Nervousness invaded you, you were about to moan, you tried to control yourself a little so as not to be discovered.
"I promise to go out with you tomorrow, we can go to the lake for ice cream or have a picnic in the park, I'll stop being so closed off, I promise"
"Sounds good, honey," you spoke brokenly, trying not to moan or breathe strangely.
"Honey, are you okay? You sound agitated."
"I'm not very well, I just ran and that's why I'm agitated"
"oh okay, well tomorrow at 12pm princess"
"It's okay honey, byyyyyyye" and you hung up suddenly.
"Wow, were you running? Did you become an athlete?" Hendery moved faster again.
"Shut up you fool"
"Mark Lee is so sweet, a picnic in the park" from afar his jealousy could be seen "at 12 pm in the park and at 12am in my bed, do you think?"
The thrusts were getting stronger and you only thought about not coming but it was getting difficult, especially if he talked so dirty.
"This whole situation reminded me of the first time at your house" he spoke slowly and with a serious tone "You telling your father that you screamed because you had a nightmare, but it was me inside you"
"Dery, I'm going to come," you say on the verge of collapse, trying to maintain your posture.
"hmmmm" and he stops moving, he pulls out of you and tries to turn you around, now both of you facing each other, him on top of you "I want to see you like this"
Taking advantage of the position, now he could kiss you better, suck and lick your neck, bite your lips and kiss your entire face.
"You can say I'm the best again" he says whispering in your ear.
You grabbed his back tightly, hurting him a little but apparently he didn't care.
"Please, one more time," he raised his voice and every time he sounded desperate, "make me feel yours once more."
He had left his personality as a cold and lonely man who only wants sex and getting high with a good Julian Casablancas song in the background to now be a boy desperate for his girl, because he needs his girl's caresses.
"Hendery I love you, you are the man of my life, you are better than everyone"
That was it, it was enough to make the boy come.
His reaction also made you come squeezing his cock that was still inside.
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They spent the entire night in their car parked at the city's viewpoint.
why'd you only call me when you're high?, sunday, cherry pie, sweet chlid on mine, rock with you, reptilia, in bloom and other songs were the soundtrack of their night.
It was what you needed, to go out, to feel alive, to see the lights of the buildings, to feel the cold of the night, stick your bare feet out the car window, be kissed by hendery.
"I want us to get back together" he breaks the silence and takes your hand to kiss it and then intertwine his fingers with his "I want you to tell that idiot that tomorrow no feeding the shitty ducks or any stupid picnic."
"But dery darling…"
"You're not happy, the truth is, today when you entered the store you looked sad, unmotivated, bored, now look at yourself, you look prettier being my wife"
And he was right, you hadn't felt this good in a long time.
"But what about Mark?"
"He's an idiot, he didn't know how to appreciate the great woman he had in front of him, now fuck him, You were always mine."
He got up as best he could from the driver's seat so he could kiss you and grab your waist again.
"Please let me be yours again, please please"
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bibiana112 · 1 year ago
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Game of Life - JubyPhonic ; Vane Lily - My Eternity ; GHOST - Hyperdontia ; Lukewarm - Penelope Scott ; "How The Internet Changed Found Footage Horror" by Pim' Crypt on YouTube ; Zero Win Game by kayzero
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hotasfahrenheit · 7 months ago
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[My Stand-In 1.09] | [DPR Ian - Limbo]
don't waste your tears on somebody you can't even save throw me down to the wolves it's where i belong see you on the other side where our worlds will collide take what's yours just leave me in two pieces i left my heart down in the basement where all the ravens take their turn picking at what's left of me i took you out of my existence only to crawl back into your arms knowing how much it will take away do you think we are really dreaming? can someone tell me where i am? i'm running out of sand i took you out of my existence only to crawl back into your arms knowing it will make me go insane
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cent-scratchnsniff · 4 months ago
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here together
#lobotomy corporation#lobcorp#lobotomy corp spoilers#lobotomy corporation spoilers#abram lobcorp#i didnt know that the song that plays during day 48 ending is called 'here together'.#couldnt hear it well because i typically have my sound low (sensetive to louder sounds) and also the dialog fucked me up#so when i pressed on it to hear it. to actually listen to it. then to see the name and remember what it Looked like#i got teary eyed. sorry.#it happened quite. afew times when finishing this shitty thing#i was thinking of how camren's not quite corpse looked as if it were reaching out to him inside the container#how it looked as if she had wings. abrams words. the line from one story that was--#something like 'we were hoping it was just one big prank and she would hop out fro. around the corner with a smile on her face'#how do you move forward when all you think you cause is pain? when everything else youve done only brought to bring people you love to thei#downfall and demise inside agony and fear as they lay dying. none of that was merciful. none of that was just. they were told to carry on#her dream and he views as if all he had done was to become cruel and wasnt fit and never even began to finish what she started.#it was so striking to me. the language he used. sleeping. alseep. waken. when all the others never sugarcoated it#in lobcorp they always said it straight. 'suicide' 'killed' 'dead'. but he used something far more.. peaceful? kind in wording in a way.#softer. describing death as if it were a merciful thing. an end that suits them and not something to be afraid of. to just... sink. to slee#to be with carmen again. to put everything to an end#the place they built with their hands. to have it just... stop. not in a way of repeating and staying in the moment#but of a permanent end. to 'sleep'. to die. to just.... stop. forever. to see no more. to do no more#to not be able to do Anything for when ever he had done Something it just cause agony. cruel hands partaking in acts he so deeply#regrets. everything is just regret. it sounds nice. to move on. to just move forward. but how can you move forward when all you think you#bring to those you cherished and couldnt leave behind is pain?#ill likely move this somewhere else as well. ive been meaning to talk about abram#the rest as well actually. mostly just the few final days w abel adam and abram since i am STUCK ON DAY 49#oh dear i uh typed a lot in the tags. oops
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