#Private Sports Lessons for Kids

[bee-in-motion]

Why Private Sports Lessons for Kids in NYC Are a Game Changer

New York City offers countless opportunities for children to stay active and engage in sports. While group sports programs are popular, private sports lessons for kids in NYC have become an increasingly popular choice for parents seeking personalized attention and tailored instruction. Whether it’s for enhancing skills in a specific sport, improving fitness, or gaining confidence, private lessons offer a range of benefits that can make a real difference in a child’s athletic journey.

 Personalized Instruction for Every Child

One of the primary benefits of private sports lessons for kids in NYC is the level of individual attention a child receives. Unlike group lessons, where the instructor has to divide their focus among several students, private lessons offer a one-on-one experience. This allows coaches to assess your child’s strengths and weaknesses, tailoring each session to their specific needs and goals. Whether your child is a beginner or looking to fine-tune their skills in a particular sport, private lessons provide the focused guidance they need to improve quickly.

 Flexible Scheduling and Convenience

Finding time for extracurricular activities in a busy city like NYC can be challenging. Private lessons offer flexibility that group programs often don’t. Parents can schedule lessons based on their child’s availability, making it easier to work around family schedules, school, and other activities. Whether you need lessons in the early morning, after school, or on weekends, private sports lessons can be arranged to fit your convenience, offering a level of flexibility that makes staying active much easier.

 Boost Confidence and Motivation

Private sports lessons for kids in NYC not only helps build their skills, but also their self-esteem. A coach who provides undivided attention can encourage your child, offering praise and constructive feedback tailored to their learning style. This positive reinforcement can help them develop confidence, making them more motivated to continue practicing and improving. With a coach who understands their individual needs, kids are more likely to stay engaged and passionate about the sport, whether it’s soccer, tennis, swimming, or basketball.

 Sports Variety and Specialized Training

In New York City, private lessons are available for a wide variety of sports, ranging from traditional favorites like soccer, basketball, and baseball to specialized activities like martial arts, swimming, and gymnastics. This allows children to explore different sports or specialize in one they’re particularly interested in. Coaches with specialized expertise can provide advanced training, helping children hone their skills and possibly prepare for competitions or sports teams.

 ConclusionPrivate sports lessons for kids in NYC offer a tailored, flexible, and supportive approach to sports training that can significantly benefit your child’s development. With personalized instruction, the ability to build confidence, and the convenience of flexible scheduling, private lessons can be a great way for kids to stay active and engaged in sports while improving their skills. Whether they’re just starting or aiming for higher levels of achievement, private lessons provide the focused attention that can make a lasting impact on their athletic journey.

[academyalmightysports]

The Best Adult Swimming Lessons in Singapore | Almighty Sports Academy

Learning how to swim is thrilling and exhausting at the same time. Learning to swim is a great way to tackle fear of water, however many can struggle to grasp certain concepts. Whether you’re a complete beginner or looking to improve your skills, enrolling in an adult swim class is a great way to do a full-body workout without missing out on fun! In this blog, we’ll explore the best adult swimming lessons in Singapore and provide you with five essential tips to prepare for your first class.

Visit Us: https://www.almightysportsacademy.com/

[k12academics]

Perfect Day Surf Camp (PDSC) offers surf camps, junior guard prep camps, surf mom classes, surf club and surfing lessons in Santa Monica, Redondo Beach, Manhattan Beach and Torrance "powered by a mom" since 2000.

All instructors are CPR, First Aid and Lifeguard certified. PDSC also supports non-profit organizations donating services to individuals with disabilities, battered women and children, recovering addicts and inner city kids teaching surfing, healing and empowerment.

PDSC offers spring camps, summer camps and year round surfing lessons.

Our easy online registration at offers scheduling by the day or by the week to accommodate every parents busy schedule.

Times are 9-12, 12-3, 9-3, 10-2pm and early drop off options for working parents.

[intheupside]

I was paying zero attention to what was clearly some UPMC Lemieux Sports Complex coach wrapping up a private lesson before development camp starts, running the kid through drills. 

Then I actually paid attention for a second and no, it's Kris Letang and his 11-year-old son Alex. 

from dkpitt

@PenguinsPR: Today's @penguins development camp schedule:

9:00 AM - Skills session with 2030 draft-eligible prospect Alex Letang and his coach 10:00 AM-12:00 PM - Penguins prospects

[simply-ivanka]

Trump Gears Up for Change on Wokeness With Education Overhaul

The president-elect has laid out big changes for America’s classrooms, including expanding school choice—and shutting down the Department of Ed

By Matt Barnum and Douglas Belkin -- Wall Street Journal

President-elect Donald Trump has vowed to remake education in the U.S., pledging to exert more control over funding and classroom lessons, to curb what he views as left-leaning tendencies at universities and even to dismantle the Department of Education.

If his White House delivers on those promises, more families could get money to send kids to private school. Schools would face pressure to limit accommodations for transgender students and to end some initiatives aimed at addressing racial disparities.

The goals are at once ambitious and controversial.

“There are a lot of very smart people who are very excited to get into positions where we can actually start making change happen,” said Tiffany Justice, a Trump ally and the co-founder of the conservative parents group Moms for Liberty.

Eliminating the Department of Education

Trump has promised to close the Education Department and has criticized U.S. school spending. 

In his first term, he proposed merging the education and labor departments, but Congress didn’t proceed. It isn’t clear whether lawmakers would go for the idea in a second term, nor how the department’s functions—such as protecting students’ civil rights, providing funding for students with disabilities and distributing student loans—would be handled if it were closed. 

Some Republicans have been reluctant to eliminate the department or cut federal funding that flows to schools in their constituencies. An Associated Press poll last year found that nearly two-thirds of Americans said the federal government spends too little on education.

“I don’t think you’ll see enormous cuts because that’s super unpopular,” said Michael Petrilli, president of the Thomas B. Fordham Institute, a conservative education think tank.

Trump will have to fill the education secretary role for now. Cabinet positions often go to prominent politicians and political allies.

Presidents sometimes look to state education chiefs. High-profile leaders in Republican states include Oklahoma’s Ryan Walters, who has fought culture-war battles in schools; Louisiana’s Cade Brumley, who has supported private-school choice and tougher school disciplinary measures; and Florida’s Manny Diaz Jr., who has overseen many conservative policy changes.

In an interview, Walters said he is focused on implementing Trump’s agenda in Oklahoma. Through a spokesperson, Brumley said “my focus is on continuing the historic educational progress we are making in Louisiana.” Diaz, through a spokesperson, said if asked to serve, “Of course you listen.” Justice of Moms for Liberty said that she would be open to the position, though hasn’t spoken to the Trump team about it.

A Trump transition spokeswoman didn’t comment on specific candidates.

Waging war on ‘woke’

Trump has said he would use the power of the purse to limit left-wing ideology in schools and universities.

Although a president can’t immediately cut off money to any school, he could use various laws to pressure schools to address antisemitism on campus, disband programs that focus on nonwhite student groups or reduce accommodations for transgender students.

Trump has said that he believes that Title IX, which bars sex discrimination in education, should prevent transgender girls from playing on female sports teams. This would be a stark reversal from the Biden administration, which has interpreted Title IX to prohibit discrimination based on gender identity.

During the campaign, Trump attacked Kamala Harris for being too supportive of transgender rights, an issue that resonated with some voters.

Trump has also indicated that he would use civil-rights law to challenge critical race theory, a term used by conservatives to describe some efforts to teach about racism and racial disparities. This could include targeting university diversity, equity and inclusion offices, legal analysts have said.

“On issues that I worry about…this is at the top,” said Rachel Perera, a fellow at the Brookings Institution, a center-left think tank.

Another tool Trump has at his disposal is the accreditation system, which gives universities access to federal money. He has called it a “secret weapon.”

Colleges and universities need to meet standards set by independent accreditors to be eligible for federal funds.

Trump could weaken the influence of accreditors—which he considers too left-leaning—by reassigning some of their responsibilities to the Education Department, said Judith Eaton, past president of the Council for Higher Education Accreditation. Alternatively, the administration could replace current accreditors with ones more closely aligned with Trump’s vision, she added.

Members of Trump’s inner circle “regard the higher-ed cartel as fundamentally out of order,” said Frederick Hess, director of education policy studies at the right-leaning American Enterprise Institute.

‘Universal school choice’

Trump wants “universal school choice for every American family,” according to his platform. That likely means providing a public subsidy for private-school tuition or other educational expenses outside the public school system.

Trump has indicated he would support the Educational Choice for Children Act, already proposed in Congress. The law would provide $10 billion in federal tax credits to go toward private-school tuition, home schooling or other educational costs.

Backers say the bill would provide money for up to two million children, and help parents direct and customize their children’s education. School-choice critics say that these programs drain resources from public schools.

Prior efforts by Republican presidents to subsidize private schools—including those supported by Ronald Reagan, and Trump in his first term—have failed to garner congressional support. And while many Republican-controlled state legislatures have adopted such programs in recent years, voters in Colorado, Kentucky and Nebraska rejected school-choice ballot measures on Nov. 5.

Some Republicans “are not fully on board yet,” said Jim Blew, who served as an education official during Trump’s first term. “I think they will be in the new administration.”

[wttcsms]

CONCEPT FOR MY ANIME SPORTS BOYS BUT !!!! your parents skip town and leave you to take care of your middle school aged younger brother. the two of you are struggling to make ends meet, and to make matters worse, you find out that your brother has been getting bullied at school. the only thing that makes him feel better is playing the same sport character plays, and character is his idol. an old video resurfaces: it’s your little brother playing the sport by himself, trying to recreate all of character’s iconic moves. his classmates found the video and started using it to bully him some more, and they end up posting it all over tiktok so the whole world can laugh at him.

you don’t understand how people can be so cruel to a child, but there is at least one person who isn’t laughing at him: character. as a matter of fact, he’s going out of his way to get his team to contact you. not only is he giving yall vip access tickets to watch his next professional game up close, but he wants you two to meet not just him but his whole entire team.

when you two arrive, character is happy to meet your little brother — and momentarily stunned when you walk down from the private jet he sent to pick you two up. he knows what to expect when he sees your brother, but he doesn’t expect that the kid has the most gorgeous sister in the world. now he’s trying to come up with more reasons to see the two of you; private lessons to teach ur brother, more games for yall to attend, everything and anything he can do to get close to you.

just !!! he falls first and harder!!!!

[mangoshorthand]

Prompt from @missjiru that I picked up from this post. She is an incredibly talented artist and I can personally attest that her lewds are 🔥🥵🤤(check her profile for the tiniest hint of the possibilities!). Luckily for all of us thirsty people, she accepts commissions.

The whole crew is out for karaoke for whatever reason (wedding, everyone's collective birthday or something) and fem!reader sings this track and Five is mesmerized. They eventually go back home/to the academy. Maybe they are chilling in the bar area. Five asks if she'll sing it again just for him. Burlesque-y, strip tease-y, sexy shenanigans ensue?

The Birthday Boy | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader 3.8k words, Rated E

October 1st: the communal birthday. 

Until recent years, bad memories of being ‘the birthday kids’ meant that Five’s siblings liked to celebrate their birthday apart. Since regaining a new sense of themselves as a family, however, October 1st became a family gathering more strictly observed than Christmas or Thanksgiving. 

The routine was a loose one: the afternoon was spent with the entire family at Griddy’s Doughnuts, laughing and, on Five’s part, complaining about how it wasn’t what it used to be. Every year he had the same complaint, and every year he was told not to be a miserable old bastard. After that it was dinner, drinks and a night of karaoke on the town. 

You’d woken Five that morning with a steaming pot of coffee, a lingering kiss and birthday gifts. He’d recently expressed an interest in learning the guitar, so you’d got him lessons, but you privately didn’t hold out much hope for these: you’d seen him try to learn the basics of violin with Viktor once, and he’d lost patience as soon as it became clear he wasn’t going to be an immediate prodigy. You thought the cufflinks and tie pin you got him, however, might have a longer lasting benefit. These, he sported proudly in the bar.

It was lucky the lights were low, Five thought, because Diego was a total mess. He held a beer loosely in one hand and swayed expressively along with the music. It was refreshing to one of the most sober in the group. 

“-And love dares you to change our way of Caring about ourselves,”

Beside Diego on the stage, taking the part of David Bowie, Five side-eyed him as they sang in unison. He had to admit, despite being this drunk, Diego was really going for it with his Freddie Mercury.

“This is our last dance, This is our last dance,”

Five smirked as Diego stumbled, belched and hit a bum note.

“This is our- Jesus, Diego!” 

Five shook the deluge of spilled beer off his now-soaked jacket 

“Under pressure!” Diego continued, unperturbed, now holding the beer bottle upright again and raising his arm above his head.

“You’re paying for my dry cleaning,” Five said, swiping at his waistcoat before rejoining Diego to sing the last two lines.

“Under pressure, Pressure.”

Five was conscientious in karaoke, as in most things: leaving a song unfinished was bad form in his opinion.

“Idiot,” he grumbled, as the song came to its end.

“It’s my birthday,” slurred Diego, “don’t be an asshat.”

“Don’t remember wishing for a beer-shower when I blew out my candles.” Five grumbled.

He slotted the mic back into its stand, shaking his head and left Diego to his own devices. He stepped off the stage and craned his neck over the other patrons to where he’d left you at the bar. 

“She’s gone to powder her nose,” said Lila, appearing unexpectedly at Five’s side. 

“Right.”

“You look like you’ve pissed yourself,” she said, matter-of-factly.

Five rolled his eyes. Behind him, he sensed Diego’s unsteady gait approaching.

“I’m gonna go clean up. Try to make sure he doesn't end up in a ditch.”

Lila gave a mock salute and Five edged around her, moving in the direction of the men’s room. 

He fixed the spill as best as he could. First dabbing it with folded toilet paper, and then drying the wet patch beneath the hand-drier, earning him stares and the odd smirk from other bathroom users. 

When he at last pushed open the heavy bathroom door, he was greeted by the sound of slightly-distorted piano, drums and electric guitar over the speakers: a tune he vaguely recognized. 

Just as he was about to turn his steps towards the bar, the voice of the singer caught his attention.

“-And they could never tear us apart.”

He smiled, recognising you before his eyes could turn to see you on the stage. When his eyes caught up with his comprehension, they were well rewarded for the effort: he was enthralled immediately. 

You swayed gently from the shoulders, in circular movements back and forth. Effortlessly alluring in that wrap dress he loved on you: the way it skimmed your curves, swelled and dipped in all the right places like a lush range of hills and valleys. It showed just enough smooth skin to make him crazy, and hid just enough to make him anxious to see more. 

He was staring, he knew, but the way your lips moved only an inch before the mic was already giving him ideas. 

You caught his eye, and a glowing smile lit up your face. To be the object of that look was the best gift you’d given him that day. 

In turn, you studied him as you inhaled to sing the next line. There he was, his back and one foot against the wall, leg bent. His arms were folded and his brows raised in interest.

“You, you were standing,”

You maintained eye contact deliberately as you sang it, giving him a cheeky wink for good measure. It let him know that, from your perspective, ‘you’ wasn’t some lyrical archetype, but him.

His expression flickered: one corner of his mouth twitched, and his eyebrows quirked, but it was his eyes that made the greatest impression. They fixed you with a brooding, assessing gaze.

You knew perfectly well what was on his mind. You knew that look: it was the one that removed your every inhibition and left you happy for him to do as he pleased with you. With that look, you knew something of what would be in store for you when he got you home. 

“I was there, Two worlds collided”

Klaus appeared at Five’s shoulder. 

“Heavens, you should be using protection rather than eye-fucking her raw.”

“And they could never-” Ever, ever, tear us apart.”

He and Klaus clapped as the music finished, Klaus watching Five with amusement, Five still watching you.

“I’ve got a viagra guy if you need some little blue pills, grandpa?”

Heading over to rejoin you as you stepped down from the stage, Five flashed Klaus his most dangerous smile.

“I’ll be quite alright, thank you.”

As you made your way through the crowd, he came upon you suddenly, stepping out from behind a rowdy group of women.

“Hello,” he said, simply, his hand coming immediately to your lower back- a reassuring and slightly proprietary presence.

Smut below cut

*** You snuck out early, arriving back at the Academy before everyone else. Five dragged you into the living room for one final drink before turning in. His soaked jacket and waistcoat were thrown on the couch behind him, and he sat on one of the barstools in his shirt and tie. He watched you as you moved busily behind the bar and winced as he took a sip of his newly poured drink.

“Oof. You don’t skip on tequila, do you?”

“Nope,” you said, placing a cocktail umbrella in his drink with a flourish. 

He let out a breath or two of laughter.

“Thank you, dearest.”

He was eyeing you with the same look he’d given you back in the bar. You tried to meet his gaze, but the knowing smirk that appeared there made you flush and look away.

“You have a good voice,” he said, while you studied the polished surface of the bar, “I was sorry to only hear the end of that song.”

“Thanks,” you said, a little embarrassed, stirring the straw around your own cocktail. 

He considered you for a moment, head tilted. 

“Would you please sing it for me?”

“What?”

“I want you to sing it again.”

He jerked his head, indicating the space on the rug in front of the bar- an informal stage for his viewing pleasure. 

“Five-” you said, trying to dissuade him, but he interrupted you with an imperious look. 

“Hey- it’s my birthday, remember.”

And then he grinned. It was a maddening expression. He looked, honest to god, as if he’d just beaten you with an infallible argument. Which, of course, he had.

Slowly, you stepped out from behind the bar and set yourself in the space he’d indicated. He pivoted on the stool, so that he was sitting facing you. Drink in his left hand, he leaned casually backwards against the bar. He looked effortlessly sophisticated; confident; self-assured. 

“There’s no music,” you said, hoping for an excuse to wriggle out of it.

You should have known. He just smirked and produced a remote control from his pants pocket. He pressed play and the sound of the mellow piano issued from unseen speakers. 

“I set it up while you were in the bathroom.”

You shook your head and huffed, half exasperated, half gratified. He inclined his head at you expectantly, as if to say: ‘Well, go on then.’

With no more than a quick roll of your eyes at this, you let the music take you away from the slight self consciousness around performing this way for an audience of one. Despite the feeling of exposure, your hips loosened, the flow of the music taking them into a soft sway. 

After all, you’d been ‘exposed’ in front of Five many times before, and in various different ways. Why should this be any different?

He watched, satisfied: the way your legs went on forever in those heeled shoes, the way the snug fabric around your hip stretched and undulated with the tidal movement of your pelvis. They’d look good moving that way on his lap, he thought, with the skirt hitched up nice and high, of course.

“Don’t ask me, What you know is true,”

Even with your eyes closed, your voice wavered with nerves. You could feel his eyes on you like a breath of wind, raising the hairs on your exposed skin.

“Don’t have to tell you, I love your precious heart,”

“Strip,” came his voice. 

You stopped singing, wrongfooted. 

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.” his voice held a quiet command, “it is my birthday, after all.”

He gave you another imperious raise of his eyebrows, slurping his margarita through his straw. He looked as if you were a mildly-entertaining TV show that he was reserving full judgement on. 

You shook your head, laughing disbelievingly at his cheek.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want to.” he said, silkily, “I know the idea turns you on.”

“Anyone could walk in!” you said, unable to hide your delight at the idea.

“Exactly,” Five said, voice low, “and you like that, don’t you?”

A smile spread slowly across your face. You did like that. He could read you like a book, and this knowledge combined with the situation itself made your pussy give a little twinge. You could feel yourself becoming wet already.

You stepped backwards onto the rug, to give him a better view. His little demand made you miss the whole first chorus, and now the drums were beating stirringly towards the second verse. You made the most of this, looking him in the eye as you rolled your hips more suggestively this time, letting their flow bleed into your waist and torso. You raised your arms above your head slowly, arching your back so that your breasts were thrust into greater prominence.

You grinned as his eyes flicked there, just as you intended. So easy to direct.

Time to up the ante.

“We could live, For a thousand years,”

Your hands skimmed your body on the way down, cupping and rubbing across your breasts and coming to rest on your hips. Five’s lips pursed as he watched, readjusting his seated posture to spread his legs fractionally wider. 

“But if I hurt you,”

Your hands came to the tie at your waist.

“I’d make wine from your tears.”

Slowly, you began to loosen the knot, Five watching hungrily. Seemingly without his knowledge, the hand not holding his drink left the bar and came to rest on his thigh.

“The shoes stay on,” he murmured.

“I told you, That we could fly” The dress undone, you held it around yourself, loose enough to give him a better view of your cleavage, but tight enough to tease. “Cause we all have wings,”

A twitch of the skirt’s hem to reveal your upper thigh. Five put his drink down.

“But some of us don't know why.”

You began to sing the chorus, but your voice petered out. Five’s longest finger was in motion,  stroking softly up and down his inner thigh. In another situation, it might have been an innocent fidget, but not in this one. 

While you hadn’t expected this, exactly, you had anticipated Five wanting to see you in your underwear before his birthday was out, so you’d chosen lingerie: black lace bra and panties and, for good measure, stockings with a suspender belt.

You dropped the dress.

“Mm,” he said, softly.

You gyrated to the music, closing in on him and running your hands down his chest. His hands reached out for your hips, but you moved them away.

“Wait. Don’t touch yet.”

He nodded, both hands moving to his knees. You bent from the waist, fingers continuing their journey: skimming past his waist, stomach and down both his thighs. He ogled your breasts, this angle making them seem extra full, cupped perfectly by the bra. He had to control an almost-overwhelming impulse to rub his thumbs over your nipples, poking prominently behind the delicate lace.

You heard his controlled, huffed out exhale and smirked.

When you straightened back up, his eyes were back on yours. 

“Can I touch myself?”

His voice was low, gravelly. 

“Only because it’s your birthday,” you said, grinning and stirring your hips with honey-smoothness. 

His hand immediately cupped himself through his pants, his thumb stroking lazily up and down his shaft. So far, the fabric had hidden the significant bulge between his legs, but as his palm flattened it around him, you could see it, the manhood swollen and heavy in his hand.

You revolved on the ball of one foot, still moving your hips in that syrupy way. You sat softly on his lap, grinding your ass into him where he was hard. 

“Oh shit, that’s just not fair,” he groaned, both arms returning to the bar, “how am I supposed to not touch you now?”

You chucked as you rubbed yourself sinfully against him, glorying in his tight breaths; his gentle shifting beneath you as he tried to increase the friction. With the song having ended a minute or so ago, the only sound was his sighs and the slight creak of the barstool.

When you noticed his knuckles turning white, gripping the ledge of the bar, you thought he’d had enough.

“You can touch me now,” you said. 

His hands immediately came to your hips and firmly slid you off his lap. 

“Get on your knees,” he growled, with a glimpse of teeth visible beneath the curve of his upper lip, “blow me.”

You moved to obey, but not fast enough, he used his grip on your hips to urge you faster, turning you towards him before grabbing your shoulders and push-pulling you down towards his crotch.

Your knees hit the plush pile of the rug and you looked up at him as he feverishly unfastened his belt, parted his flies and pulled his cock unceremoniously from his underwear. It was thick, stiff and a deep, fierce red at the tip.

“I’m in charge now, okay?” he said, barely moving his lips.

“Yes sir.” you replied, the title half in jest and half not. 

At this confirmation, his right hand laced itself in your hair immediately, reinforcing the message. In his left hand, he held his cock by the base and, angling your face towards it, he let it drop so that it lay obscenely across your face. The soft impact of his weight brought a sting of pleasure to your core, radiating outwards from your pussy. You could feel your own wetness collecting against the lace of the panties.

“Put out your tongue.”

His voice was still deeper than usual. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought he sounded angry. 

You did as you were told. Taking himself back in hand, he slapped himself into your tongue, wetting his tip liberally with saliva and enjoying the view.

He let out a growling breath as he directed himself slowly into your waiting mouth, sliding across a slick tongue until your nose met his neat curls. This was the best part, he thought, the first time he was wholly inside you. The feeling was something like sinking into a perfectly warm bath, cock first.

“That’s it,” he whispered, still in that gruff tone, “that’s it angel. Go nice and slow.”

His grip loosened on your hair, signaling for you to take over. 

He was hard and hot in your mouth, his skin silky against your lips.

You looked up at him, watching as expressions passed across his handsome face, changing and morphing from one to the other as the sensations took over him: smug satisfaction became ecstasy and ecstasy became mild amusement as the movements of your mouth kept him on his toes with unexpected spikes of pleasure.  As you drew your head back, your lipstick stained his skin, leaving a colored smear all the way up his shaft. 

He looked down at this, mouth agape; wide-pupiled eyes shaded by his thick, dark lashes. Amusement was gone now, replaced by nothing short of incredulity.

“My God,” he whispered.

Your lips formed a seal around his head, to hold him in your mouth as you licked eagerly at his tip: something that always made him weak at the knees. Tonight was no exception: his grip on your hair tightened again and he made an abrupt, pained noise, as if he’d just been struck by an enemy rather than pleasured by his lover. 

As his neck arched and he looked straight at the ceiling, he rocked forwards on the barstool, getting his cock as deep as you could take it. 

“Ah shiiit,” he called out, the words almost an inarticulate sound. 

Encouraged by this, you tried to swirl your tongue again, but his shaft pinned your tongue down.  Instead, you bobbed your head, swallowing his cock again and again, letting your lips stroke him as they dragged and plumped with his passage between them. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed, as he tried to stop himself thrusting against the barrier of your throat, “just incredible, baby. I’m so…I’m nearly there.”

One of your hands came to his, still rooted in your hair, and gripped it. You guided his hand to push and pull at your head, inviting him to control its movement and take his own pleasure.

He made a low grinding sound in his throat as took you up on your unspoken offer. He held your head more firmly in his hands and stroked himself with your face, slowly pushing you down and bottoming out in you and then, just as slowly withdrawing with hissing breaths. Every time, with intense self-control you could sense in the set of his grip, he stopped just short of your throat.

As he continued to use your face this way, you could feel his fingers tightening and loosening spasmodically. Hiis movements were becoming more erratic, his breathing ever more shrill and gasp-like.

Amd then he moaned, tensed, and froze.

He turned his face back to you and drew your gaze to his. He began to tremble. His eyes were hazy, strung out. 

“You want to swallow it?”

By way of answer, you sucked his cock again, resuming at the same tempo he’d been at before he stopped.

“Oh fuck!” he barked.

Again, his pelvis was thrusting messily into you, incapable of the finesse needed to avoid occasionally butting up against your throat. Your eyes watered, your larynx constricted, but you held out, (it was his birthday, after all). 

Your tolerance wasn’t tested long. With a shout, his pleasure burst its bounds inside your mouth, painting your tongue with the evidence of his orgasm: thick, salty and potent. He held your head to his crotch as if letting go might mean death. His shrill breath hitched as his cock throbbed with pump after desperate pump deep into your throat-

The sound of the door and rowdy voices. 

Five, preoccupied as he was, didn’t immediately register this, so you thumped your fist on the outside of this thigh. This brought him back to the here and now and, instinctively, he blinked, dragging you with him by the hold he had on your head. 

You emerged, dizzily, behind the bar, shielded from the eyes of his siblings, newly arrived home. Still coming, Five let your head go.

“Shit, your dress,” he muttered, distractedly, leaning against the polished wood and wriggling tensely. 

His hands went urgently to his waistband to cover his dick, still shooting out thick but waning splashes of come, but he found your head still resolutely in the way.

“What are you-? Oh shit,” he whispered. 

Unbelievably, you were still sucking him off, still swallowing his seed even as his siblings were saying their goodnights in the atrium. He closed his eyes and shuddered, keeping his moans in with difficulty as you diligently ensured that every last moment of his orgasm was earth-shattering, even at the risk of being caught this way. 

“God, you’re such a freak,” he whispered, as your tongue swiped at the final drops of come beading at the end of his dick.

“Thanks for noticing,” you said, giving him one of his own, self-satisfied little smirks, “Happy birthday.”

You kissed his tip one final time.

Five shook his head, unable to believe his luck, but he couldn’t bask in the afterglow.

Hurriedly, he made himself decent and blinked back around the bar, leaving you to crouch behind it alone.

“Hey Five. You’re still up?” 

Luther’s voice. His footsteps were approaching the living room.

“Just off to bed actually,” you heard Five reply, slightly out of breath. At that moment, your dress landed just in front of you, flung over the top of the bar by Five. You reached for it and scrambled to put it on.

“Oh okay,” came Luther’s voice again, slightly disappointed and closer now,  “I was gonna have one more drink if you-”

“Um, no!” said Five, stepping between Luther and the bar. I got some margarita left. Let me pour you one.”

“Huh,” Luther sounded pleasantly surprised at this obligingness, “thanks Five.”

Fully dressed now, you straightened up, smoothing your tangled hair and holding a bar towel.

“Oh, hey,” Luther said, sounding even more surprised now, “I didn’t see you there.”

“That’s because I’ve been on my knees for so long.” you said.

This made Five’s head whip around to stare at you. If looks could kill…

“I’ve been cleaning up,” you said, looking directly at Five now and smiling sweetly, “I spilled some tequila.”

“Oh, right,” Luther said, unconcerned and totally unsuspicious. 

Five’s lips pursed. Clearly, he intended to deal with you when you got upstairs to bed. 

…And you’d make sure you held him to that. 

Megalist

Request info + rules

NOTE:

I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See request info + rules for request status and more.

[nonclassyparty]

tins without labels - chapter 1 (j.wy)

summary: Jung Wooyoung's life was always somehow intertwined with your own. from living in the same neighbourhood as kids to attending the same college; fights, bickering, bruises, teasing comments and tears. Wooyoung and you were never complete strangers but never friends either. Always somewhere in between, growing up with each other but never actually knowing one another. The relationship takes a confusing turn in your third year of college after an injury that places your football career on hold. Lonely, lost and confused, you find yourself at your first college party in the presence of none other than Jung Wooyoung asking him to show you what exactly have you been missing out on. playlist // my main masterlist // moodboard (tba)//click to donate to Palestine

pairing: jung wooyoung x reader warnings: drinking, little bit of kissing, descriptions of erm...male genitalia? cursing, cringe fest you've been warned. !word count: 9.3k taglist: @maru-matt @yawnzshit @mcsalterego @ddaeing @downbadreading @btshook (sorry if i forgot anyone but pls reply if u want to be added!)

previous chapter

(chapter 1; when we feel each other up)

Got different people inside my head, I wonder which one that they like best, I'm done with tryna have it all, and ending up with not much at all

present time (21 and 23 years old);

There was a really ugly drawing framed and hanging on the wall at the doctor's office.

It was a house tilting to one side with three stick figurines whose shoes were far too big next to it with strokes of green thrown everywhere which you presume is supposed to be grass. It was drawn by crayons.

You presume it's an art piece made by the doctor's kid but you hope she realizes early on that her daughter or son doesn't really have a proclivity for the arts.

But then again, maybe they will later on. Maybe they'll stand out amongst their peers and be further encouraged by their parents. Maybe they'll even take private lessons to get better. Maybe they'll get into art school and have the professor praise them up on how their talent is extremely rare. Maybe they'll even win some awards.

And then, maybe someone will break their hand so badly that they never get to hold a brush again.

Alright, now you were just projecting.

But what else is there to do as you sit in the almost sterile office with your dad by your side as the doctor keeps going on and on with a somber expression on her face. You're sure Doctor Son is a nice lady, if you were paying attention you'd maybe notice that she tries to break the news extra gently but you're barely listening.

There's been a lot of "it was more serious than we first thought", "rehabilitation will be a long and steady process", "a new excellent physical therapist works at the sports center on campus so she'll be able to visit him a couple times a week, we've already made sure that he gives all of his attention to her" and the most gruesome one, "another even minor injury and there's a risk of her not being able to walk again."

You don't really have to be paying too much attention to know what the underlined thought is.

No more football.

The persistent ache in your left knee serves a constant reminder of what happened almost four months ago, it was the last game of the season. Little did you know it might be the last game of your measly career.

You refuse to look at your dad, feeling the sadness radiate off of him like it does every time he speaks to any of the doctors you've visited in the past four months.

And it's been a lot of doctors.

The fact that you spent the whole summer at home for the first time since you finished high school didn't help. All he did was coddle you and stare in pity and disappointment. Or try to be overly positive and enthusiastic about your recovery.

You didn't know which was worse.

After the final doctor's appointment before the start of the new semester which you leave with barely saying a word during the almost half an hour you're there, you and your dad get lunch at a dinner just off campus.

The thick holder containing scans, blood tests, surgery papers and whatnot, lies on the table between the two of you and you feel like nothing could cut through the thick silence.

Your dad, of course, tries.

"You can still have an amazing career in education, you know? Your mother was a teacher and she loved her job."

It's just sometimes, your father really doesn't know how to beat around the bush and in this moment, you wish he did.

"Right." Is all you say.

Neither one of you comments on what you both know. Which is that you didn't give a fuck about your major in education. Sure, you had passing grades but that is because you needed to study something to stay on the team and not because you were actually interested.

Football was always the bigger picture, the real goal.

"You can always switch majors?" He offers and you nod again, thanking the waiter when he brings two bowls of noodles to your table. 

You don't want to say that switching majors in your third year of college seems like a complete waste, of both money and time.

He sighs and you know he's frustrated with you, you understand it as well but you can't control it. Talking about your career, now that your dream career is over and done with, is an extremely sore subject.

"You know what, you've been working so hard since before you even started college, you deserve to rest."

"I've been resting since May." You respond and he winces at the mention of May. When it all fell apart.

"That wasn't rest. It was recovery." You give him a bland look and he sighs again, "I'm just saying! Maybe you'll discover something else you like to do this semester."

"Doubtful." You murmur, the reality finally sinking in at least a little.

"It's not doubtful at all." Your dad scoffs, taking a slurp of his noodles. "You're twenty-one, your life just begun, I'm sure there are other things to do and new people to meet. You wouldn't know if you never even tried."

"Dad-"

"Get yourself a boyfriend. Go to parties. Find yourself some friends who aren't talking behind your back in the locker room-"

"They weren't my friends-"

"Live your life. Is my point. Don't be cooped up in your bedroom, refusing to see anyone like you were doing the whole summer. Just...try, at least." He is silently begging now and now, it's your time to sigh.

"Fine."

"Who knows...you might discover that football isn't all there is to life."

You go silent at that, embarrassed of your own thoughts on the matter so you just keep them to yourself.

-

You flip through the pages of the magazine that you've read front to back at least four times by now before throwing it on your bed.

Your dad left earlier this afternoon after you've settled into your dorm and since then you've just been lounging on your bed, trying to busy yourself with knick-knacks that you have lying around so the time could pass faster.

You adjust the ice pack on your knee a bit better and with a soft sigh, your eyes fall on your roommate.

Yunjin was sitting behind her desk that was pushed up right next to your identical one and was busy doing her makeup. Carefully applying a pretty shade to her eyelids as she moves her desk mirror to her liking.

She was getting ready to go to a party no doubt. It was the last Friday before the new semester after all and Yunjin was a frequent party goer from what you could tell in these years living together.

Yunjin and you have been roommates since freshman year and yet, you've barely spoken to each other. Always sticking to your sides of the generously sized dorm room, you guess it's because you don't have much in common with each other that you never tried to be friends.

You didn't know much about her if you were honest, just that she majored in political science, often dyed her hair and had a lot of friends. You were sort of the complete opposites from what you could tell.

But since she kept renewing her contract for the room with you every year, you think it's safe to assume that she at least doesn't mind you all too much.

Just...try, at least.

You clear your throat. Here you go...

"You, uh, you do your makeup really prettily." It's out of your mouth before you know it, you already feel awkward as it is but when your red haired roommate turns to you in surprise that maybe you even spoke in the first place - the awkwardness triples.

"Oh." Yunjin utters with raised brows before a tiny, careful smile settles on her face. "Thank you."

So...now what?

You both stare at each other for a long hard second and you hesitate, thinking it's best to leave it at that. Keeping up a conversation was never your strongest suit either. Now that you think of it, apart from football, you don't have any strong suits at all.

"I, uh, I had a lot of practice." She offers awkwardly, motioning to her face with the eyeshadow brush wedged gently between her fingers.

"Right, yeah, I can totally see that." You nod, surprised that she responded back with something that almost sounds like she wants the conversation to keep going. You clear your throat, "The eyeliner and stuff, seems tricky."

It seems like that was all it took for the ice to disapparate for Yunjin because next thing you know, she's rambling without a plan to stop;

"Oh, that's just at the beginning, the first couple of tries I mean and that goes for everything makeup related or, hm, maybe everything life related as well, wow." Yunjin shakes her head as if life philosophies were certainly not more important than a perfect winged eyeliner, "But anyways, I was looking like a panda for the majority of my junior year in high school." She chuckles at that, not looking embarrassed at all, "Had those thick eyebrows as well, it was a complete disaster. But the longer I wore makeup, the better I got at it and the more I learned what suited my face."

You clutch the pillow in your lap as you diligently listen to her, feeling like a younger sibling watching her older sister get ready for a party. 

"People say eyeliner isn't in fashion anymore, like it's an old makeup trend or whatever," Yunjin rolls her eyes at you and you chuckle lightly, shyly because you had no idea what was in trend, "Such bullshit, I'll never stop wearing it. It looks so good on me."

She observes the perfect thin wings decorating her eyelids and almost sighs a little in admiration.

You nod in agreement, not being able to stop yourself, "You have big eyes so the eyeliner frames them perfectly. It suits you."

Yunjin smiles happily, "Right? I totally look like Jihyo from TWICE, right?"

You hesitate, having no idea what Jihyo from TWICE looked like but you don't have the heart to sway her happiness so you just give her a small nod.

You continue to chat, mostly Yunjin talks, and by the amount she seems to have to say to you, you start to think that maybe all this time it wasn't that Yunjin avoided getting to know you because she wasn't interested in knowing her roommate. It seems like she had the idea that you had no interest into getting to know her, so she never bothered.

Once she's done with her makeup and she looks over herself in her precious small round mirror standing on her desk in satisfaction, she turns to you with a glare.

It's not a glare as if you've wronged her somehow but a glare of curiosity and seemingly not taking 'no' for an answer. You raise your brows.

Her glare deepens, one inquisitive but perfectly plucked eyebrow raised, "Do you want me to do your makeup?"

"Oh," You huff out, for some reason embarrassed that she's aware you're a complete klutz in that department, "I don't know."

"Hm, why not? You might like it. Makeup is fun!" 

"No, I know I'll like it." Your cheeks flush, embarrassment growing at the thought of her thinking that you're one of those girls who thinks she's better for not being interested in makeup. It wouldn't be the first time it happened. "I just...won't I look stupid?"

"Stupid?" Yunjin frowns as if the idea is ridiculous and maybe it was a little. "Why would you look stupid? I'm basically a pro at this, I wouldn't let you look stupid."

"Oh, I didn't mean anything about your...y'know, skills." You grimace when she continues to stare at you, not really in the mood to disclose that ever since a stupid teenage boy named Son Eunwoo laughed at you at prom for trying to look pretty that you've given up on it as it obviously didn't suit you all that much. "Just, y'know, people will think I look silly if I wear it. It's not my thing...y'know?"

There's a faint moment of silence and you cast your eyes somewhere else as you feel awkward all over again for ruining the relaxed mood. Finally, Yunjin speaks,

"Y/N," She calls quietly, face set in a serious expression when you bring your eyes up to her again, "Do you want me to do your makeup?"

You blink at her a couple of times, mouth parted as she sits in her chair, perfectly curled hair and perfectly applied makeup, and waits for your response.

"I'll go wash my face."

"Yes, you go do that and don't forget to moisturize."

It doesn't take more than twenty minutes for Yunjin to do your makeup. Before she starts, you carefully tell her you don't want too much and she says she'll ask before everything she applies if you want it or not.

And she really does.

She places a little bit of foundation just to cover the natural redness of your cheeks and the couple of small pimples that appeared on your chin. She foregoes contouring because you tell her you don't want that, not sure what's the purpose of it. 

She goes a little bit crazy with the eyeshadows though, maybe she notices that you have the most interest in them. Glitter especially. It makes your eyes look glossy, almost wet but you're sure you're not describing that properly.

She even does some thin eyeliner on you, some mascara, brushes out your eyebrows but doesn't fill them out because you tell her you don't like them looking sharp. Some blush, a pretty light orange color that decorates your cheeks in a way that it surprises you by how good it looks on your face. And at the end, some lip gloss to finish everything off.

All through out, you two talk. About school, about your hometowns, about your parents.

It's bonding, you realize. 

You never bonded with anyone through makeup before, it was usually over football with Ryujin or gossiping over the people you knew from school because that's what you had in common with her. But football is gone now, so is high school and for years now, so was Ryujin.

It was hard to keep up with a friendship that was out of necessity in the first place, even harder when there's an entire ocean separating you now.

But with Yunjin, although you seemingly have nothing much in common, the conversation just flows with each soft stroke of a brush or pat on the cheek.

"See!" She hands you her round mirror to look at yourself, "You look so good!"

"Oh," You muse out, staring at the reflection, admiring the glitter and shimmer and all the colors you're not used to having on your face, "I like it."

"Now, don't get me wrong!" She warns quickly with her hands up, painted nails glistening under the shitty dorm lights, "You look good without makeup too. Well," She rolls her eyes at herself, "You obviously know that since you don't wear it at all as it is but like, if you sometimes want to wear it, you'll know now that it won't look stupid on you."

You chuckle shyly at her short rant, placing the mirror back on her desk. 

You wished Yunjin's words of affirmation would be enough to rid you of all your insecurities regarding makeup or...anything 'girly', they don't but you don't have the heart to tell her that. "Thanks."

She nods in response before checking her phone for the time apparently. She throws it on her bed before clapping her hands, "Well, since you already have your makeup done, you might as well go to this party with me."

That leaves you stumped. You turn to look at her from the chair in front of her desk. Party? "Wait, what?"

Yunjin doesn't even grace you with a look, standing in front of her closet which was flung open as she sorts through different materials and patterned clothes.

"Come on L/N, brush your hair out and get into a pair of jeans that make your ass look great." Her head peaks out from behind the door of her closet, she winks at you, "I'll worry about your top."

You really don't know how this happened. You don't know how you ended up here, in the jeans that hugged your hips and thighs the tightest and in the most preposterously skimpy top you have ever worn with your brushed out long hair falling over your back and your lips tinted a deep glossy red. You were a willing participant in it but you really have no idea how this happened.

"I don't think this is an appropriate outfit." You tell Yunjin as you look over yourself in the tall mirror which you both share. "I don't think this shirt is supposed to be worn like this."

"Actually," Yunjin said as she fixed her skirt in the mirror behind you and paid no mind to your ongoing breakdown, "For the last three months I thought I got scammed by the online shop I ordered that top from because it looked nothing like the photos on me but now looking at you, I'm starting to realize that the online shop is legit and that I simply didn't have the tits to fill it out."

You spluttered about at her commentary as you stared at the outfit, wondering if it would be rude to chicken out on her now.

Your light blue denim flare jeans and white sneakers looked totally acceptable. They were yours after all. 

The shirt, the offending bright red sleeveless low cut crop top that almost had your boobs out completely for the whole entire world to see, on the other hand, was certainly not.

You don't think you've ever worn something so short, so tight, so...revealing. In your life.

It's not even that you felt uncomfortable in it, really, you thought you looked hot but it just....wasn't You.

And at that point, you had to remind your self very strongly that you had no idea what You actually was. Football was no more (at least for the near future but you have an inkling it's for forever) and maybe the you that was tied to it and that the rest of your small world knew should rest for a little bit while you explore what other you's are there.

Beats moping around and feeling sorry for yourself, at least.

Yes. You will try your hardest not to care what anyone else might think tonight. You looked good. Sexy as fuck, as Yunjin said.

It wasn't all she said. Yunjin, as you begin to find out in the last hour you've actually spoken to her, is the best when it comes to making a girl feel good about herself.

"God, Y/N, your body is crazy." You hear her say as she pulls your hand away from your stomach that was bare since the skimpy shirt or jeans didn't cover it. She stares at your abs. "Do you still workout?"

Still. Meaning she also knows you're a retired athlete at only twenty-one years of age. Once again, you have to try your best to not let that reminder dampen your mood.

"Thanks." You respond clearing your throat, giving her a weak smile. "Yeah, I workout five times a week."

You don't mention the physical therapy you're about to start next week or the fact that all your workouts are under strict supervision ever since the injury happened. That, starting from next week, two other people will be responsible of you staying in shape.

It's so pitiful, you're so used to doing everything on your own.

"Five?!" Yunjin's jaw drops before she scoffs, looking at her body in the mirror with overly critical eyes.

Yunjin seemed to be naturally on the skinnier side, she didn't have any muscle built up. Not like you, years of doing football made your physique change, your body looked amazing - you were aware of that. Personal trainers, coaches both male and female told you so at least....'Defined thighs, defined stomach, toned arms...'. You heard enough about your body to know that it looked good.

It took years of sweat and regular gym hours to make it that way though and you feel bad that Yunjin seems to be comparing it to her own.

"When I was in my best shape, I had a whole team of people working with me from diet to workouts, that includes my coach as well." You chuckle lightly, as she turns her eyes from her stomach to you, "Everyone was expecting me to go pro so...The university invested a lot in me."

You force out another laugh, not trying to turn an attempt to stop the comparisons into a pity party. "Even now when I won't be playing, I'll have two people working with me."

When all you get in return is a dumbfounded stare, you groan feeling like you read the situation incorrectly. Your social cues still need some catching up to do.

So, there's nothing left to do when you feel so uncomfortable but ramble and it's what you do best, you will be quick to learn.

"This is stupid, I don't know if that's what you were doing and I'll feel like shit if I say it but ended up assuming it wrong but I'll say it anyway just in case; if you were comparing yourself to me, don't, I had professionals working with me for the past three years. Professionals that are extremely expensive and finished schools and shit to learn how to make people look hot and fit, so...." You trail off, avoiding her eyes at all cost and scratching behind your neck awkwardly.

The silence is so long that it almost wills you to run out of the room and maybe ask for a permanent roommate change, just to beat Yunjin to the punch. Instead, you hear a stifled giggle.

You glance at her just to see your roommate bite back a grin.

You huff, cheeks turning red from the embarrassment because you barely speak but when you do, it's really almost always complete and utter shit, as you try to hide your own smile.

"You're a nice girl, Y/N."

"Yeah, yeah." You huff, always terrible at taking compliments, "So are you, I guess."

She snorts at your awkwardness but doesn't further comment on it as she rummages through her jewelry box and pokes big hoop earrings on.

"And you can keep that shirt if you want...God, I hate you big boobed bitches." You let out a surprised laugh at that as she rummages some more through her jewelry box. "Do you have any earrings for yourself? I'd offer you a necklace but I think it's hotter if your neck is bare honestly."

"Um," You approach your desk and pull out your mom's jewelry box with a humble amount of items in it. You show her your tiny golden hoops, "What about these?"

"Yeah, those are great. Put those on and let's get ready to go, Chaewon might be dancing on tables by now."

As you lock the door to your dorm and turn to leave, Yunjin intertwines your arms as you both walk down the hall crowded by college students either going in or going out.

New girl friend, not so bad, you think to yourself.

Chaewon is not dancing on tables when you get there. You don't exactly know who Chaewon is but there's nobody dancing on tables in the crowded frat house you've walked into. You don't know anyone there, you thought you might see some girls from your team at least despite not getting along with them the best but you don't.

Yunjin, on the other hand, seems to know everyone.

She greets every living soul in the dusty, stuffy living room and every living soul greets her back. You guess it's safe to say that your roommate slash new girl friend is very popular with the party crowd at your campus.

As it's your first ever college party, you just follow her around like a lost puppy but she never makes you feel like a lost puppy, instead, she introduces you to every person that comes to chat with her even though you can hardly remember their names. You appreciate that more than you'd like to admit.

You end up in the kitchen which is less crowded but still has a handful of people in it where Yunjin shoves the classic red party cup in your hand and clinks it with her matching one, telling you to drink up.

At least you're not a complete virgin in this area. You drank before, you weren't an expert or anything because alcohol is limited for athletes but still, it's one of the first 'not first's of the night.

You meet Chaewon who is bubbly and cute with her bob and sparkly eyes. She's not nearly as drunk as Yunjin led you to believe she would be. When you comment on it, Chaewon smacks Yunjin's arm jokingly.

"You've made the girl think I'm an alcoholic or something." She scolds your roommate with a smirk before turning to you, smile back to complete innocence, "I don't even drink that much, Y/N. Honest."

Yunjin comes closer to mutter in your ear, "She's a liar, it's just that she's trying to be sober to see if the guy she's into comes alone tonight."

"Oh!" You nod and give Chaewon a reassuring smile as she goes beet red in the face and glares at Yunjin who continues to tease her.

You were about to tell Yunjin that you much prefer the crowd in the kitchen than the living room area and that you'd hope to stay here a bit more but you don't get a chance to.

 Loud hoots echo through the kitchen and you turn your head to see what the ruckus is all about only to see the bane of your very existence walk in with a wide smile along with a group of other guys, greeting everyone like he's the king of the world and with the way everyone in the room treats him - he might as well be.

Of course. Of fucking course, Jung Wooyoung would be considered the life of the party.

He can be! You don't give a fuck! But why did it have to be the first party that you are attending.

You try to hide your scowl by taking another sip of your drink, trying your hardest not to let your eyes trace his movements from the other side of the kitchen island but one second your eyes are coasting over his ridiculous outfit (which he looks damn near scrumptious in but that's besides the point and something you will never admit that you ever thought about for even a second) and the next thing you know - his eyes are meeting yours.

You quickly whip your head to stare into the living room, feeling the edge of the counter dig into your back.

Yunjin and Chaewon are talking about something, laughing loudly through the noisy room and you're trying to hard to keep up with their conversation but that turns out to be impossible now that you're aware of a certain menace lurking about.

And lo and behold, quickly enough he skulks away from his group of friends and sneaks up to your side in three long strides.

"Well, well, well, do my eyes deceive me or is this Y/N Y/L/N at a frat house party?"

You stand rigid as his clothed elbow brushes your bare one but otherwise don't give him any further acknowledgement. Yunjin, from your freshly learned discovery is ever the social butterfly, grins with an eyeroll.

"Don't be a dick, Wooyoung."

Oh. Oh.

Yunjin knows Wooyoung. Well, that makes just about everything a thousand times worse.

"What? I didn't say anything." Jung Wooyoung defends with a smug smile from next to you before giving Chaewon a charming (or at least what might be charming by some people's standards, definitely not yours or anything) smile. "Chaewon, hello."

She stifles a laugh, "Hi, Wooyoung."

You're irritated to the highest degree for some reason.

Why were you never on the receiving end of his charming smiles? Again, charming by some people's standards. Let it be known, it's not by yours. Not that you want to be on the receiving end of any kind of Jung Wooyoung smile but just...why aren't you ever?

"Can't believe you two managed to get babyface over here out of her room for once." He comments and for a second you have no idea who he's referring to. Until Chaewon laughs lightly again before motioning towards Yunjin.

"That's all Yunjin. I just met Y/N, actually."

"Lucky you." Wooyoung adds and only after his second mischievous glance do you realize they're talking about you.

"Babyface?" You turn to him, growing outraged as his lips stretch into a wide grin. What is it with him and these weird nicknames which all contain the word 'baby' in them. What happened to calling you a troll like he did in middle school and moving about his night?

He shrugs, "I reckon it's better than crybaby."

"You reckon?" You scoff, not being able to stop yourself. Not even a full minute with him and you're already showcasing the gnarly childish side of yourself to girls you were hoping would become your friends. "Wow, how many years of college and you're finally using big words, Jung."

Wooyoung, for reasons you could never wrap your head around, looks positively delighted at your quip. "If you think 'reckon' is a big word then I have no further comments, Y/L/N."

You flush a deep red at that as a glare fully sets down on your face, aimed entirely towards him now. He bites his lip to stop himself from laughing which only makes you grow redder.

"So, you two know each other?" You forgot for a split second that the two of you were in the presence of your new friends. Yunjin stares at you with brows raised.

With a solemn sigh, you respond, "We were neighbours."

"We still are." Wooyoung adds, cozying up to you further. You watch in contempt the way his shoulder brushes yours and his arm lays on the kitchen island behind you, one wrong move and his arm would be around your waist. Seriously, why is he so damn close?

To your own embarrassment, you find yourself not moving away, liking his warmth and whatnot. Maybe, he smells nice as well. Just a little bit. Something citrusy and delicious. Whatever.

"Oh?" Yunjin asks, looking awfully too interested in your relationship with Wooyoung. Not that there is a relationship. Your brows furrow as you observe the way she silently communicates with Chaewon.

"What?" You ask, lost entirely. 

Chaewon gives you the same, overly enthusiastic smile, "Oh, nothing."

Wooyoung's chest shakes against you from silent laughter about something you must've missed and you turn to glare at him. He didn't do anything, you just felt like it.

A couple of minutes of conversation pass and you find yourself even enjoying it, despite the little nuisance stuck to your side. It's been awhile since you hung out with anybody, you never thought you even needed it but you think you understand now the hype around these college weekend hangouts.

Until it somehow dips to Yunjin and Chaewon ditching you.

"Y/N, remember that guy Yunjin was talking to you about? The one I have a crush on?" You nod as Chaewon talks against your ear, "Well, he just got here and Yunjin and I will go say hi to him."

"Oh, I'll come with!" You say pathetically before Yunjin loudly exclaims "NO!"

"No, Y/N, you stay right here with Wooyoung, okay?" She motions to the guy next to you, "You two seem to have so much in common!"

She's giving you a weird smile, overly wide, overly excited and you have trouble reading what she's trying to tell you, not knowing her nearly enough to be able to read girl code already.

You can barely get a word in and they're already gone, whisked by the living room crowd and you're stuck with Jung Wooyoung of all people by your side, feeling completely and utterly stupid. 

They...ditched you? Did Yunjin regret inviting you? Did she find you embarrassing? Maybe you should just go home.

A deep sigh is heard by your side and you're once again reminded with who they left you with.

"Y/L/N, they didn't ditch you. They don't hate you or whatever it is that you scrambled up in that big head of yours, they're trying to set you up with me." Wooyoung lazily explains from your right and you turn to look at him like he's crazy. What surprises you more than his statement is the fact that he's actually sticking by your side.

"What? Set you up with me?" You scoff, crossing your bare arms over your chest, "Don't be ridiculous."

He snorts, "You'd rather think they ditched you than trying to get you laid?"

You go silent at that. Laid. How preposterous. How insane and how ridiculous.

It's another thing that you're a complete virgin to. Literally and figuratively. You've never went with a boy past a clumsy make out session. Get laid, you scoff inwardly, how silly.

Suddenly, you're aware of a pair of eyes on the side of your face and you're not surprised to find Jung Wooyoung staring at you in amusement. With all your defenses up, you ask, "What?"

His eyes twinkle with mirth. "I didn't say anything."

Another moment of silence between the two of you passes. Some guy comes to greet Wooyoung, he gives you a small nod in greeting which you return and after some small talk between the two of them he walks away, leaving you two alone once again in the middle of the semi-crowded kitchen.

Wooyoung inches closer to you again, mirroring your stance now by leaning against the island with his back. "Is being alone with me that scary that you refuse to talk?"

"Scary?" You scoff again, it's all you seem to do in his presence, without even looking at him. "Don't flatter yourself too much, Jung, you're not nearly as intimidating as you like to think you are."

"Who said I thought I was intimidating?" He asks calmly, enjoying the way you're riled up for no apparent reason.

You don't answer his question, aware that you're being a bitch for no reason. But it's his fault if anything, years of juvenile fights made Jung Wooyoung bring out the worst in you.

"These parties don't seem like they're all that." You comment, more to yourself than anything but he's obviously listening so you decide to include him in the conversation. "Don't you get bored of them?"

Wooyoung hums from next to you, lightly swaying to the music from the living room as he hands you a cold cup of...something and takes one for himself as well. It feels weird that he actually is sort of attentive by getting you a drink when he noticed your empty cup on the island. You decide not to dwell on it too much.

"Bored? Not really, they get repetitive but there's always something fun to do." He responds, mouth quirking up as he looks down at you. Your eyes flicker down to his lips just in time for his tongue to swipe across his bottom lip. You look away quickly.

Clearing your throat, for the life of you, you have no idea why you nod to a couple in the corner right next to the kitchen almost having intercourse against a wall. "Like that?"

Wooyoung snickers and you feel yourself flush slightly but you blame it on the drink which is...much better than whatever Yunjin handed to you at the beginning of the night. "Don't blame people for having fun, Y/L/N."

You turn to him with your nose crinkled, "That's your idea of fun?"

Wooyoung seems a bit surprised and yet strangely intrigued by the course of the conversation. Maybe you are too but in this moment, it feels all too exhilarating with him being so close and you being a complete and utter virgin and all. God, if Chaewon and Yunjin left you here in hopes of getting you laid, maybe they were right.

There's no reason to be acting like this around Jung Wooyoung.

Honestly, what is wrong with you Y/N? Maybe you really should fuck someone. You'd stop thinking about Jung Wooyoung this way and lose your virginity at last.

Two birds with one stone.

"I know lots of ideas of fun." Wooyoung starts before he gives you that devastating grin of his that you despised even as a lovesick teenage girl as he subtly nods to the couple, still at it in the corner, "That is one of them. Although I'd at least take it up to one of the bedrooms upstairs."

Your nose crinkles in disgust again at the thought of the state of the beds in these dirty testosterone filled frat houses. "Gross, they probably don't even change the sheets."

"My apartment is two blocks away." Wooyoung adds, a little too quickly in your, once again completely virgin, opinion. "I always have that option as well, y'know?"

You blink a couple of times, staring at the kitchen tiles as you start thinking that you're not talking about his ideas of fun��only anymore.

Was he-? Is he trying to-? No. No way. Do not.

"Right." You say quietly, taking a tiny sip of your drink before smacking your lips.

There is no way that in any shape or form Jung Wooyoung is attempting to flirt with you. 

He's quiet for only a couple of seconds before two other guys approach him, doing those weird half hugs half handshakes that assholes like Jung Wooyoung use to greet their friends. Which he seems to have a bunch of. Mr. Popular he is.

While they converse, your eyes are still stuck on the couple making out in the corner of the room and to not seem like a complete and utter creep, you draw your eyes away from them into the living room where...all you seem to see are couples.

Flirting. Kissing. Grinding on each other (Gross). Humping on the couch (Double Gross, you're sure people use that to sit on ordinary days). Clumsily walking up the stairs with their hands already on each other's clothes (Triple Gross). They're all going to have sex!

Meanwhile, you're a virgin. Not by choice either, if it were up to you you'd grab the first guy you see right this second and let him fuck you just to get it over with. It's not like you're saving yourself for someone special or anything. Too bad that they all seem to be taken one way or another and the only guy you've spent the whole night talking to is-

Wait.

Nononono.

But-

Wait.

You turn to observe Jung Wooyoung by your side, who is still talking to his two buddies. None of them paying you any mind.

As you mentioned before, there was a general consensus going around that Jung Wooyoung was good looking. You've seen him only a handful times since that night he dropped you off home after prom even if you're both on the same campus but you can admit (although you'll outwardly deny it if anybody asks) that he has gotten even hotter.

His face lost all of his baby fat with years that went by, his jawline got sharper and lips plusher. His eyes were expressive and the mole under one of them was cute. His hair was still long, you don't know if he cut it after prom night and just let it grow out again or if this was simply the length her preferred, now all black but it suited him immensely.

He had nice hands as well. Veiny hands, long fingers with nice and tidy nails. And you might've called his outfit ridiculous but you only did it to fulfill your role as his self-appointed enemy, it wasn't that ridiculous. Just a pair of baggy jeans and a white shirt with his sleeves rolled up. You guess he knows that he has sexy hands. The first three buttons of his shirt were undone, making sure to showcase the naturally tanned smooth skin underneath and a necklace decorating his collarbones.

This...whore. 

A man that plays up his good physical attributes this well could be nothing else but a man that gets around a lot.

When you notice that you've spent a good two minutes doing nothing but checking Jung Wooyoung out, you notice that his two friends have left already and he's holding his red cup while staring at you with an amused smirk on his face.

"What now?" He asks and you part your lips before licking them, almost shivering when you catch Wooyoung following the action closely.

Well, your dad did say that should live your life and try at least. His words, not yours!

Although when he said them, you are most definitely sure your dad didn't think you'd ever be applying them when asking Jung Wooyoung to take your virginity but what he doesn't know won't put him in an early grave.

You are twenty-one years old and among a lot of other things, you are horny. It's time to get a move on.

"I'm going to ask you something now and for once," You let out a soft sigh, eyes fluttering shut as you can't believe you're about to do this before opening them to level Jung Wooyoung with an open stare as you inch closer to him to make sure he can hear every word, "Just this once, I ask of you, nicely, to not be a dick about it. If you're not up for it, just...just let me down gently. Don't laugh at me, please, just tell me no and we'll forget it ever happened."

All traces of amusement leave Wooyoung's eyes after your all-too-honest speech and he turns to rest his hip against the kitchen island to be face to face with you. He looks serious and asks quietly, "What do you wanna ask me, Y/L/N?"

You take a deep breath, feeling undeniably nervous under his heavy gaze. "Those ideas of fun you mentioned before, the ones involving your apartment...."

Wooyoung presses the rim of the cup against his lower lip, teeth gently grazing it before he takes a sip. He nods, looking a little confused as he swallows, teeth coming back to bite on the cup.

"Mind showing me?"

It takes him a second to catch on but when he does, it only takes another second for the mischief in his eyes to triple and lips placed against the rim of his red cup to stretch into a wide breathtaking smile.

-

Wooyoung had an inkling of an idea where the course of the night would take him when he first left his apartment. Have a drink or two, mess about with the guys for a few hours and maybe if he was up to it, find someone to take home.

 But this... if someone told him this would happen, he'd burst out laughing and call that person crazy. Insane. Deranged. A lunatic. 

Really, he had no idea how the hell this happened. 

This being two handfuls of your jean-covered ass in his hands, tongue shoved deep into your mouth as he pushes you against his hallway wall and swallows every tiny sound you make while your hands tug and rake through his hair.

He's pretty sure your dark red lip gloss is all over his cheeks from how messy and rushed the kissing is. Everything tastes like artificial cherries, a taste too sweet for Wooyoung's liking accompanied by a tinge of vodka and lemonade that you've both been drinking.

Your hands are soft when they run over his jaw and latch onto his shoulders, he swallows another surprisingly sweet whine of yours and slips a leg between your thighs. Embarrassingly enough, Wooyoung is already hard and once his hands slip from your ass to your hips just to feel the way you move them as you grind against his thigh - he fears he might finish in his pants.

Yeah, if at the start of the night someone told him that Y/L/N Y/N would be dry humping him in the hallway of his small studio apartment after he went out of his way to keep her company at a party, he surely would've dialed the nearest psychiatric institution to take that person in for much needed treatment.

When you reward him with a whimper that goes straight to his dick for placing a kiss underneath your ear, Wooyoung starts coating your neck in slow hot kisses and bites that leave you trembling in his arms. 

He's been (as subtly as he could) staring at the naked skin that your shirt revealed for the majority of the night anyway so, truly, this isn't much of a chore for him.

When his teeth gently graze your clavicle, he pulls away for just a moment and realizes he's finally gotten a front seat view of your tits.

Jesus Christ.

When the fuck did you become hot?

Wooyoung always found you cute at most. And fine, he thought you were pretty too that night he drove you home from your prom night. But that's where it all ended. He didn't think about you all too much in any other way given your history and barely saw you as it is.

Looking at you now...your hooded eyes that glittered around the corners. Flushed cheeks and heavy breaths that made his head spin. Disheveled long hair that fell down your back and that he wanted to tangle his fingers in (which he quickly did as soon as that thought appeared, no time like the present!). And those fucking tits covered with nothing but a sorry excuse for a shirt that clung to your torso.

Wow.

It really must be true when they say that distance makes the heart grow fonder. 

Although there's little heart involved in this situation and a whole lot of thinking with his dick.

He pulls the thick strap of your top a little and watches at it smacks against your skin gently. You keep quiet, breaths still heavy as you watch him.

"This shirt is fucking ridiculous, Y/L/N."

No time left for talking, his fingers curl around your waist again as he bends down to place kisses against your chest. You both probably smell like smoke, sweat and booze but there's a soft layer of vanilla mixed into it the closer he gets to you and Wooyoung finds himself not minding the combination.

"I-It looks bad?"

It's the first words you've spoken since you stumbled into his apartment and Wooyoung has to pause, almost in disbelief. His first reaction is annoyance, not pegging you as the type of girl to fish for compliments by acting insecure even though she knows very well she looks delectable.

But then, the more he stares, the more he notices the way you twitch in his hold, shifting your gaze around his face in order to avoid his eyes, his annoyance disappears. You are insecure about the shirt. You are genuinely wondering whether or not it looks good on you.

And Wooyoung is nothing, if not ready to please at all times.

"I wanna drag it off of you with my teeth." He says the honest truth, hating the way his voice is low and husky. What the fuck is he doing. Why is he breathing so heavily?

The blush that overtakes you doesn't stop at your face but slowly curls around your neck and appears at the top of your chest. He hums, satisfied with the reaction he got before going back to business.

The business being your marvelous tits.

With his hand still curled around your waist as he lowers down so his forehead is basically resting on your bare chest, he groans once he thumbs over your left breast and feels a hard nipple under the material.

"Are you not wearing anything under this?" He murmurs against your skin, groaning again once he feels your fingers intertwine with his hair. Wooyoung doesn't wait for a response but roughly pulls one of the thick straps down your arm and places a hand over your naked breast feeling its weight in his hand.

Jesus fucking Christ.

He thumbs at your nipple, liking the soft moan that escapes you at the action as you continue to grind against his clothed thigh.

"Y-Yunjin said it didn't need a-a bra." You stutter out through a whisper and he places a soft kiss to the middle of your chest as if to soothe you before returning his attention to what's really important.

God bless Yunjin then. Wooyoung should remind himself to buy her that chicken sandwich she likes so much tomorrow morning.

His thumb rubs over the hard pink nipple one last time before its enveloped by his lips, tongue twirling around it and arm tightening around your waist as your breath hitches and you twitch even more in his hold.

When you let out a high pitched moan once his teeth gently graze the soft bud, Wooyoung thinks he'll send Yunjin a whole damn buffet to her dorm.

Wooyoung releases your nipple with a 'pop' that makes you groan lewdly and he scrambles to stand up to his full height to get the offending red shirt off your body.

"Off." He mutters and you quickly grab the ends of the shirt to pull it off, needing Wooyoung's help since it was genuinely so tight on your torso.

With your hair disheveled even more now and bare chest on full display, Wooyoung almost kneels down in front of you.

His dick ached.

"Oh my fucking God." He mutters, burying his face into your chest as he licked and kissed and sucked and...

"Bed." You whisper through a moan, tugging at his hair. You grit out almost bossily, "B-Bed!"

"Bed?" Wooyoung looks down on you in confirmation, body now completely pressed against yours and when he sees your wide, desperate but sure eyes, he quickly nods. "Bed."

His lips are back on yours again, hand grasping at your jaw as he pulls you from the wall and leads you further into his studio apartment. The bed was only a couple of feet away anyways.

You grunt against his lips as you trip over something and he pushes it away with his foot (it was a sneaker that fell out of place as he was getting ready in a hurry), continuing to lead the way to his bed.

"You take off your shirt too." You whisper, almost shyly which causes something warm to swirl in his stomach. He obeys quickly, dropping his shirt to your feet before pulling you in with a hand at the back of your neck, biting at your lower lip and letting out a small laugh as you gasp.

"Pants too." You add innocently and he huffs, growing amused at your bossy nature even in the bedroom.

So, of course, he'll be a little shit about it.

Wooyoung drops himself on the bed, thanking God he changed his sheets this morning, and obnoxiously spreads out his legs. He observes you with a tilted head and a grin on his face, "Why don't you take them off?"

-

You lick your lips at the request, feeling like it's awfully hot in the room despite the fact that you're not wearing a shirt. You without a shirt in front of Jung Wooyoung with your tits on full display was another thing that you weren't ready to unpack just yet.

He's beautiful.

Wooyoung's skin is a pretty color of fresh honey and you carefully step closer, between his legs, to place a hand on his firm chest and feel his velvety skin. He watches your every move with hooded eyes, holding himself up with his arms placed behind him on the bed.

There's a tattoo on the side of his ribs, one that you would never know about unless you see him like this, so you run a thumb over it in admiration. Still, you don't want to take too long at the risk of coming off as weird, so with all the bravery you can muster - your hand drops to the button of his jeans and you gently (because of your fucking knee) lower yourself down to sit between his legs.

You thumb it open and pull the zipper down, shivering at the way Wooyoung's lips part and he softly exhales in what seems to be anticipation. You further flush when you finally get to see the outline of his....well, his dick.

You felt it against your hip, when you were kissing by the entrance door but you didn't have the guts to ever look down.

When Wooyoung lifts his hips up to help you get his pants off, you realize you're about to see it now anyway.

Clearing your throat, you curl your fingers around the waistband of his jeans and underwear all at once and pull it down. If Wooyoung notices how clumsy you are with it, he decides not to comment at least.

And there it is. His dick. A dick, first of all. The first dick you've ever seen in your life that wasn't through the screen while watching a bad porn video.

You don't stop pulling on his pants until they're pooling at his ankles without breaking stare with his...penis. 

You don't really know what you expected if you're being honest. You never thought a dick would be pretty and...it's not exactly ugly either. Just, odd looking you suppose.

You can't tell if it's either big or small as you have nothing to compare it to. Maybe average? What is considered small? You're scared what a big dick looks like if this is a small one. Or even average one. It's kind of thick though which is worrying, you don't even notice the way your lips part as you imagine how exactly is this...thing supposed to fit anywhere inside of you.

There's neatly trimmed hair at the base of it and the tip is flushed, a thick vein running at the underside of it and two-

"Uh," It's like a sound of a scratched record as you freeze, "Your first time seeing a dick or something, Y/L/N?"

Your head slowly lifts from his lap and up to his face where a Jung Wooyoung awaits with raised brows.

It's only then that you realize you've been examining this guy's dick like he was at a doctor's appointment instead of trying to get him off.

You're at a little loss of words to be honest and for a split second you're worried that Jung Wooyoung will take your stutters of "I, uh" and "Um"'s and "Uh, hm"'s the wrong way and think you're impressed by him or something. You're not, once again, you have nothing to compare it to. You barely know what you're looking at right now.

His facial expressions go a little like this in the next twenty seconds: Cockiness (that quickly fades though), Confusion and last but not least Realization.

"Oh my God, it is?!" He laughs in disbelief before his eyes grow even wider and mouth continues to hang open. He quickly places a pillow laying on his bed over his lap, to shield his manhood from the big bad scary virgin apparently, "You're a virgin?!"

It feels like a punch to the gut and you flush a deep red, already scrambling up to your feet and shielding your bare chest. While you try to find that damned crop top, Wooyoung is still rambling in the background.

"There's no way! Wow, seriously you've never had sex before?! Never?! Wow, there's no way! Wait, why are you putting your shoes on-"

You refuse to turn towards him, pathetic tears of embarrassment already welled up in your eyes and bottom lip wobbling, "Uh, I'm gonna go."

"Wait, what? Why?" You hear shuffling behind you and you assume he's trying to get back into his jeans.

You quickly slide your second sneaker on and are flinging the door open, not looking back. "I have to go. I'm sorry, bye."

"Sorry? What are you- Will you just wait a fucking second for me to put my clothes back-" The door falls shut and you're stalking down the hallway of the apartment building, trying to get as far away from his door as you can.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

What were you thinking? Kissing Jung Wooyoung, going home with Jung Wooyoung, doing anything with Jung Wooyoung. What were you thinking?

You cry only a little when you get back to your dorm. Really, it's only a little, just a couple of flimsy tears. 

Then you scrub the makeup from your face and change into your pajamas. Yunjin still isn't back and you're angry at her too, for bringing you to that party in the first place. For leaving you with Jung Wooyoung as well.

You're angry and embarrassed. And on top of that, you're horny too.

Why did Jung Wooyoung have to be such a good kisser? Why did his hands have to feel so nice? Why was he so beautiful?

You huff, buried deep in your sheets and all ready to go to bed but sleep just isn't coming. You're too busy thinking about the guy you've sworn not to think about at all anymore.

It was going so well these last two years.

With another huff, you cover your face with your pillow and scream at the top of your lungs.

He tasted like lemonade.

[gayferrari]

you once said that charles uses fans parasocial relationships with him in a much more careful (not verbatim but I think you said something similar) manner as compared to the whole nicole piastri podcast thing, could you elaborate? I just thought it was interesting

obv most teams go for the parasocial angle now but what are the different ways they go about it do you think, and would you say some are more, or less good at it, or into it at all?

thank you your brain is very big I want to unspool it

Ok I think I remember the post you were talking about! I thini I joked in tags like "Oscar should take lessons from Charles on how to involve his family in his personal image for parasocial purposes without going overboard" and I was mostly kidding except. not really.

To me. Like I just said, I think Charles is really good at cultivating a connection with his fans that feels very personal, while still keeping a big part of his private life under wraps. He folds bits and pieces of his personality and genuine interests into his #brand, and his communication with his fans feels very earnest as a result, but it's still very much a brand. Rissa was joking the other day that "Leclercs have managed to literally corporatize their brotherhood" and I laughed for five minutes but like, it's true. We know the names of Charles's entire friend group but we have no idea what his personality is like when the cameras are turned off. I have seen his carefully selected family holiday dump and have no inkling about how he and his girlfriend spend their days. I just think it's a very smart way to establish a fanbase in a way that 1) makes your fans feel close to you and motivates them to keep being your fans (worked on me!) 2) holds back core parts of your life that you don't want to share and 3) is true to reality so you don't have to keep up a media façade all the time and it "looks real." Again!! I think it's pretty impressive. He's a guy who enjoys being famous but on his own terms. Hashtag good for him!

The Nicole comment iirc is like... I don't actually follow Oscar closely enough to know what the level of engagement with his family is among his fans, but I AM aware of Nicole publicly engaging with her son's fan accounts just because it's very hard not to. I know general reception so far is positive, but from what I see... I get the vibe she's putting herself out there in a way that could backfire. Beyond whether you personally vibe with the kind of persona she's putting out, I just don't think it's great in the long term for the family of a driver to be THAT accessible to the public. Like, sports fans aren't nice! I hope she keeps having fun making #boymom jokes on twitter and doesn't have to be confronted with people in the replies wishing crashes on her son to the point where it becomes draining. I just think there are better, smoother ways to involve your family in your brand than what the Piastris are currently doing. So this is what made me go "You should ask Charles for tips". But it was mostly a joke, like, I don't think it's something Oscar NEEDS to do. I just think Charles is much better

Anyway! I'm not a social media image PR person so these are just my own gut feelings. I also don't think I know enough about how different teams go about social media engagement, except that I feel vaguely that they all could do better tbh. From glimpses I've seen around I think Mclaren are the ones doing The Most with the social media engagement angle and it feels very #zillennial. But in general, I think social media engagement is a good thing for teams to cultivate, but they don't care nearly as much as some people seem to believe. Teams' PR care way more about sponsors and F1 press than they do about clicks on their bromance videos and podium edits. It's nice to have but I doubt it's a priority.

(MY dream team social media content would be an equal mix of the Ferrari queerbait videos based on bad acting and chemistry and the Merc videos showcasing the team + factory personnel, but I fear nobody will give me exactly what I want :/)

[count-alucard-tepes]

Headcanons and a short fanfic for Arashiyama Jurota 🤼‍♂️

He owns his own mountain because he doesn’t like living near the city or near too many people that doesn’t mean he doesn’t allow others to live there…it’s just his private property though. He named the mountain Mount Arashiyama.

He loves fishing and often invites Rolon and some of the younger gladiators to stay with him so he can go fishing with them. He likes to teach the younger ones to live off the land. He’s very patient.

He’s really good with children and when he has time, he often visits Judo clubs to train kids. He believes Judo is genderless and everyone should learn, he does not discriminate.

He was married when he was younger but he lost his wife to an illness shortly after marriage. He’s open to marrying again and having children.

He doesn’t smoke but occasionally drinks alcohol.

Taking over a class…

It was a usual day for Arashiyama where he would wake up early, go catch some fish and make some breakfast before doing his morning training. He would receive a call from a Judo center that they would like for him to host a few classes for beginners and of course he agreed. He loved his sport and wanted to share it with anyone who wanted to learn.

He would not take any matches that week so that he would be in his best shape for his soon to be students.

He arrived earlier than the required time and was talking to some of his previous students just to catch up and what not.

“How is the mountain? Must be thriving in this weather”, a familiar colleague asked gently.

“Yes, it’s especially nice in the mornings and evenings…I am planting more fruit trees in hope that they flourish and thrive…”, he said with a small smile. He did love gardening very much and spent a lot of his time taking care of the land and in turn, it took care of him.

“That is amazing, to imagine what the mountain was to what it is now…you truly have made it a sight to behold”, his colleague said with a smile.

Arashiyama smiled and nodded as the students would soon make their way in. He noticed all were young girls and women, aged 5 to 15. It’s been a while since he was teaching such a group but of course he didn’t mind at all, everyone was welcomed to learn Judo if they were willing.

He would be lost in thought for a moment or two when he felt someone tug on his trousers. He looked down with a raised brow to notice a young girl staring up at him.

Naturally, he bent down to her level, “…hello little, everything alright?”, he asked gently.

“…sensei…I’m Sayuri…it’s my first lesson today! “, she said excitedly as she bowed to her instructor, “…I’m going to try my best!”.

Arashiyama couldn’t help but smile at this little child before him, “it is a pleasure to meet you, Sayuri…I am Arashiyama Jurota and it is an honor to be your sensei…I will do my best to teach you well”.

She smiled happily before nodding and quickly running to get her spot as they would get ready for Arashiyama to start his lesson.

“Welcome, students…I am Arashiyama Jurota and I will be your instructor for a few weeks…it is pleasure to be working with you all”, he said gently before bowing to his students who immediately bowed to him too.

“…now…let’s begin “, he said before the lesson commenced.

Once the lesson was over, the students came to say their thanks and goodbyes to Arashiyama along with their parents/grown-ups.

Sayuri would quickly come with her grown-up in tow, “Sensei! Did I do good today?”, she asked with big wide eyes.

Arashiyama crouched down and nodded, “Yes, you did exceedingly well…keep practicing and eat well…and don’t neglect your studies at school “, he said gently.

Sayuri nodded and promised she will before bowing and rushing off.

“I can understand why so many take students now…it is for moments like those, yes?”, he asked one of his colleagues.

“Oh yes, it is a sense of pride you feel once you see them grow…you should become a full time instructor, Arashiyama…you might feel it fulfilling “, his colleague suggested.

“I will see how I feel when I am done with this group…no promises though”, Arashiyama said with a small smile before he went to get changed in his room regular clothes and began to get ready to go home.

He’d stop for some sushi as it’s been a while since he was in town and relaxed, “…maybe becoming an instructor isn’t a bad thing”, he murmured more to him.

What did he have to lose anyway…

[bee-in-motion]

Private Sports Lessons for Kids: A Smart Investment in Your Child’s Future

In today’s fast-paced world, ensuring that children grow up with a well-rounded set of skills is more important than ever. While academics and social skills often take center stage, physical education and sports play an equally crucial role in a child’s development. One of the most effective ways to help children excel in sports and improve their physical fitness is through private sports lessons. These personalized sessions not only enhance physical abilities but also contribute to a child’s overall well-being. In this blog, you will explore the importance of private sports lessons for kids, highlighting the numerous benefits they offer and why they should be considered a valuable investment in your child’s future.

Personalized Attention for Better Results

One of the biggest advantages of private sports lessons is the level of personalized attention that children receive. In group sports classes, instructors often have to divide their attention among several children, which can result in some kids being overlooked. Private Sports Lessons for Kids, on the other hand, offer undivided attention from a coach, enabling them to assess a child’s individual strengths and weaknesses more effectively.

Building Confidence and Self-Esteem

Children who receive private sports lessons often experience a significant boost in their confidence levels. The personal attention from a coach allows for a more supportive and encouraging environment, which can be especially helpful for children who are shy, anxious, or struggle in a group setting. When a coach provides individualized feedback and celebrates small victories, children feel more accomplished and motivated to continue pushing their limits.

Enhanced Physical and Mental Development

Sports are well known for their physical benefits, but private sports lessons also promote cognitive and emotional growth. When children are engaged in physical activities, they develop better coordination, balance, and flexibility. Sports also help in strengthening muscles, improving cardiovascular health, and boosting overall fitness levels. However, the benefits go beyond just physical health.

Fostering a Lifelong Love for Sports

Private sports lessons are also instrumental in cultivating a lifelong passion for physical activity. By receiving personalized guidance and focusing on areas of improvement, children are more likely to develop a genuine interest in sports and fitness. This early exposure to a range of athletic activities helps children discover what they enjoy most, whether it's soccer, tennis, swimming, or any other sport.

Private sports lessons for kids provide numerous benefits that extend far beyond the playing field. They are a valuable tool for enhancing physical, mental, and emotional development, building confidence, and encouraging a lifelong commitment to fitness. Whether your child is interested in mastering a specific sport or simply improving their physical health, Private Sports Lessons for Kids offer the personalized attention and tailored instruction that can help them reach their full potential.

[academyalmightysports]

Reasons to Take Private Swimming Lessons | Almighty Sports Academy

Have you ever thought about learning to swim but found communal and group learning to be counterproductive to your goals? Private swimming lessons have several advantages over group lessons, which make them a popular choice for students of all ages and skill levels. Here are five reasons why you should consider taking private swimming lessons and how they can help you improve your swimming skills.

Visit Us: https://www.almightysportsacademy.com/

Source URL: https://www.reddit.com/user/academyalmighty/comments/17lvhj1/the_top_5_reasons_to_take_private_swimming/

[project-sekai-facts]

Do you have any info on the schools?? Any new stuff you wanna say or links to old facts but I need as much stuff on kamiyama for a fic,,…, but any info on miyama would b appreciated too!!!

I haven’t posted any facts about them before so this is just what I can remember off the top of my head.

Kamikou is a co-ed school that is more accessible to lower income backgrounds than Miyajou is (inferred; Harumichi wanted to send Toya to a private school instead, An and the Shinonomes attend who are implied to be from a lower socioeconomic background). The school is actually relatively new and a flashback in The Vivid Old Tale shows that it was being built while An was a child. She even hides on the building site at one point during the story.

Kamikou also offers evening classes, which Ena attends. It has a middle school as well, which Rui and Mizuki attended (Akito might have attended I can’t remember rn, everyone else is confirmed to have gone to middle school elsewhere).

Kamikou clubs include film, soccer and various other sports, while its committees include student council, disciplinary, library, and gardening.

Miyajou is an all-girls academy located on the other side of Shibuya to Kamikou. It is described multiple times as being a “school for rich kids”, meaning that it probably has a high fee (I don’t remember it ever being referred to as a private school).

Miyajou offers a credit-based pathway, where students who are busy with work or such can acquire credits until they have enough to graduate instead of attending formal lessons. Haruka took this pathway when she was in ASRUN, and all of MMJ recently decided to change to this course. It also has a middle school, which was attended by the members of Leo/need and Mafuyu.

Miyajou clubs include tea ceremony, home economics, soft tennis, rhythmic gymnastics, archery, dance, and swimming, while its committees include student council, school festival organisation, beautification and animal caretaking.

Aside from that, both schools follow the policies and structure of a typical Japanese school, so I suggest looking into that if you need more information.

[aficionadoenthusiast]

hi! i also love comedy! any chance we could get some more funny fic recs?

yes, absolutely!

pjo

sorry, don't have a ton of these, I tend to read more serious fics for this fandom

keeping it fruity by buoyantsaturn; valgrace, T, 4k; Leo is both so relatable and so silly, I love it

Leo huffed. “Sorry, I just don’t think I can support such senseless violence,” he grumbled, knowing that all of the excuses he and Nico had come up with over the last few years would be useless by that point. “What is a sport, really, if not an excuse to beat some stranger to a pulp?”

sex education by CordeliaRose; solangelo, E & M, 5-20k; I'm not normally a fan of smut, so if this one got me to read smut, you know it's good

Percy tries to give Nico a sex talk. It goes about as well as anyone could have predicted.

marvel

shelter order by deniigiq; team red, G, 46k; team red quarantine group chat fic, need I say more?

Little Spidey (Pink): Hello Twitter. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Spiderman has decided that we should share with you all our private chat. We will be doing so on the condition that y’all remain cool about it. You gonna be cool? (Peter decides to raise spirits of those in isolation by sharing parts of the Team Red chat online day by day.)

Fishing Isn’t Fair to the Fish by NezumiPi; defenders, T, 17k; I was not expecting this one to have so much humor. or an exorcism.

Spoilers for Defenders S1 and prior individual shows. In a magnificent display of poor judgment, Luke Cage invites the Defenders on an upstate fishing trip in they can get to know one another better and perhaps smooth over some minor interpersonal conflicts. Contains (in no particular order): Minor interpersonal conflicts, major interpersonal conflicts, moderate impersonal conflicts, Danny Rand’s undergarments, porn for the blind, misuse of pharmaceuticals, talking swans, occasional fishing, and some seriously unpleasant business.

Mr. Stark's Home for Idiot Teenagers by OffToNewPastures; Iron family, T, 98k; tbh it's been so long since I read this one that I don't remember what it's about, but I have it marked as funny, so here you go

Peter is there, slumped over the kitchen island, slowly cramming spoonfuls of Double Chocolate Cookie Crisp into his mouth, hair tousled and sticking up every which way, and Tony realizes with sudden clarity that he’s fighting a losing battle. Maybe not today, maybe he can put it off for a while, but someday he’s just going to have to give up and love this ridiculous kid. - In which Tony Stark learns object lessons about love, sacrifice, death, friendship, and parenthood; and makes his peace with the unfortunate reality that his penthouse will be crawling with asshole teenagers every weekend for the foreseeable future. Follows canon...loosely. Ahem.

Chaotic Peter by Isnt_it_pretty_to_think_so; Iron family, T, 15-20k; this one is hilarious and painful and gripping and so so beautiful, and it has a logical path to the Iron family trope that doesn't make me cringe. I stayed up to 5 am on a weekday reading it. No regrets. (My note on ao3: "Reread first story to laugh until you cry, reread second part to feel something," if anyone was doubting how I feel about this fic.)

"Is there a reason you're calling this late at night?" Tony asks, worried in spite of himself. "Tell me what's going on, kid." “Everything is one-hundred-percent fine,” Peter says. “Seriously, I've never been better. But I should let you know I have about thirty bricks of cocaine in my bedroom. Also, Karen won't let me turn off Instant Kill Mode. Also, Walmart discontinued my special razzleberry pink squeezy lemonade. Which isn't related to tonight's patrol, I'm just bummed about it.”  Or: The five times Instant Kill Mode is activated +1

Super Duper Side Effects by awesomesockes, whumphoarder; Avengers, T, 16k; most mcu fans probably recognize this one and know it's hilarious

The downside of an enhanced metabolism is that it renders most drugs completely ineffective. Captain America accepted this long ago as an occupational hazard. But after Peter sustains a serious injury in the line of duty and the doctors have no way to manage the pain, Steve decides to volunteer as a test subject for Bruce and Tony’s experimental super drug. However, the soldier ends up getting a little more than he bargained for. (Alternative title: Original Drug Tester: Steve Rogers)

Obligatory mention of the fic that caused this ask:

in technicolor by deniigiq; Marvel's various NYC vigilantes & Brett Mahoney, not rated (I'd give it a T), 120k; again. the observor pov gives the idea of wildlife being studied in their natural habitat, and it is so. fucking. funny.

Brett sighed and looked down at the folder in his hand. “Your name is Peter, right?” “Lawyer.” “Peter, we haven’t even started talking. Let’s just take a minute to ease up.” “Lawyer.” “Bud, we haven’t charged you with a crime. This is just talking.” “Law. Yer.” Goddamn. (Brett's encounters with Team Red/vigilantes and their weird fucking way of helping)

hp

Still Preoccupied... With 1979 by darkbluedark; drarry (+jily & wolfstar), T, 15-20k; pre drarry accidental time travel hanging onto their rivalry for convenience? hilarious.

It’s May 1979 and the Order has just apprehended a pair of mysterious wizards who look remarkably like a Potter and a Malfoy. Naturally, James Potter and Sirius Black are called in to identify the strangely familiar strangers and determine their backgrounds and loyalties. (This would be a lot easier if their captives weren’t convinced everyone they talk to is dead. It would also be easier if they didn’t spend half their bloody time bickering.)

sirius black and the "mystery girl" by tjmcharg; wolfstar, T, 29k; heteronormativity but for humor reasons

"You can't tell me who you're with?" Lily smiles at him hopefully. Sirius laughs. "Alright Evans, if you're so curious, I have a proposition for you" "We'll set up a little bet, you have until the end of the school year - so two months - to work out who I'm dating, or..." he pauses to think and with an evil smirk decides, "or you have to ask your crush out on a date."

pair of tossers with a cat by moonymoment; wolfstar, G, 10k; a cat nearly destroys them. in the middle of a war.

Something seemed to dawn on Remus then; something so obvious he couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it before. He frowned and looked at Sirius quizzically. “What?” “Are you…” Remus began, gaping slightly, “jealous of the cat, Sirius?” Sirius looked down. “I’m not jealous of the cat.” “You’re jealous of the cat!” “I am not jealous of the bloody cat.” Remus finds a stray cat on the street and brings it in. Sirius is not impressed. Chaos ensues.

(fuck jkr. for those of you who don't know me.)

(if y'all have any especially funny fics you wanna share, i would not be opposed 👀) (especially marvel and pjo 👀👀)

[mariacallous]

A prominent school privatization activist who has been praised by former President Donald Trump and who has contributed to Project 2025 has spoken out for the first time after videos surfaced that appeared to show his involvement in gay pornographic videos earlier this month.

“As an activist for parental rights and school choice, my passion is personal,” Corey DeAngelis wrote on X, formerly Twitter, on Monday morning. “I was a victim of poor decisions and poor influences. I have turned that experience into the fuel that fires me to save young people from being put in the same position I was put in and to help parents protect their children.”

Earlier this month, a blog called Str8 Up Gay Porn, which shares reviews of gay porn and articles about the adult entertainment industry, first reported that a person who resembles DeAngelis appeared in several gay adult films.

The performer, who appears under the name “Seth Rose,” is in at least three gay adult films on the pornography website GayHoopla, dating to 2014. In the videos, “Rose” appears masturbating solo and alongside other men.

DeAngelis’ post on Monday appears to acknowledge his appearance in these films, and that he was a “victim of poor decisions.” His post went out to his 163,000 followers on X, and received praise from conservative writers like Richard Hanania and Chris Rufo, who is largely credited with fabricating the panic over critical race theory.

DeAngelis has been a fierce critic of what he views as “pornographic” content in school literature, often referring to any education materials that include discussion of LGBTQ+ people and their experiences.

The day that Str8 Up Gay Porn posted its blog, DeAngelis shared a graphic on X illustrating a satirical lesson plan of the “radical left” in 2024, including “drag queen story hours,” “mandatory pronoun recognition,” and “boys participating in girls sports.”

DeAngelis did not respond to HuffPost’s request for comment, though he did post a screenshot of this reporter’s inquiry on X, and said that the article is “a hit piece against me because I don’t want porn in schools.”

The self-described “school choice evangelist” is also listed as a contributor to Project 2025 on behalf of the American Federation for Children. Project 2025 is a policy roadmap for a second Trump presidency, authored by the Heritage Foundation and a network of conservative organizations.

Sarah Kate Ellis, the president of LGBTQ+ advocacy group GLAAD, told The Advocate that DeAngelis’ role as contributor to Project 2025 is “further proof that he is willing to sell out student safety to anti-LGBTQ extremists.”

In the introduction, Project 2025 authors equate “transgender ideology” to “pornography” and call for it to be “outlawed.” The 900-page document boasts numerous policies to advance school privatization programs, while simultaneously urging to block public school officials from doing anything ― such as using a name or different pronoun ― to support trans and gender non-conforming students.

The idea that the existence of trans people is synonymous with pornography is now a well-worn trope dating back to the 1970s, when anti-gay advocate Anita Bryant’s “Save the Children” campaign baselessly equated gays and lesbians with groomers and people who abuse children.

DeAngelis has echoed these claims as reasons that parents should pull their kids out of public schools and opt for taxpayer funded school privatization. In his book, “The Parent Revolution: Rescuing Your Kids From the Radicals Ruining Our Schools,” which Trump promoted on Truth Social, DeAngelis warns that many popular books in public schools are “pushing gender ideology” that veers into “pornographic territory.”

He has shared similar talking points on Fox News segments and criticized LGBTQ+ inclusive policies in schools, particularly those that allow trans girls to use girls’ locker rooms and play on girls’ sports teams.

Currently DeAngelis heads the nonprofit Education Freedom Institute, which promotes “school choice,” a policy championed by some conservatives to use taxpayer money to subsidize private schools.

He has been a senior fellow at the American Federation for Children, another conservative education nonprofit that was founded by Trump-appointed former Education Secretary Betsy DeVos.

But since the videos surfaced two weeks ago, Rebekah Bydlak, a spokesperson for the American Federation for Children, told NBC News that DeAngelis was put on leave “as we look into this matter further.”

Bydlak did not respond to HuffPost’s request for comment.

Last year, DeAngelis supported school district policies in Chino, California, to “out” transgender students to their parents, and another in Temecula, California, to ban books that discuss LGBTQ+ people.

“I can’t believe we’re at a point in America where authoritarians in power are fighting this hard to keep sexual secrets about children from their own parents,” DeAngelis, who is on the board of the Liberty Justice Center, a conservative legal advocacy group, said after California Attorney General Rob Bonta sued the Chino district over its parental notification policy.

[sweetracha]

Boxer! AU Storyboard

RACHA BOXING GYM: RESPECT, HONOR, DIGNITY

Thank you @kaciidubs for the idea!

Christopher "Bang Chan" Bahng came from a rough family from the wrong side of the tracks. He was a troubled kid who learned it was easier to pick fights rather than make amends. Always having to be on the defense can do a lot to a child and not having a safe place to go most nights meant Chris got into his fair share of trouble. When the owner of RACHA gym found a young Chris bloody and bruised sleeping behind his studio, he took him in. The man was the closest thing Christopher ever had to a father. He raised him in the studio and rewrote the whole world. Chris easily became the best fighter in the league. Every match he remembered the lessons his father figure had taught him; "Boys fight with anger, Men fight with dignity". This became the motto painted right above the door at what was now Chan's gym. He was heartbroken after the untimely death of his guidance, he took out all his anger on the punching bag that mocked him. Sadly, one missed swing landed Christopher's fist into the wall, shattering the bones in his hand. Unable to box Chan found another way to honor his father's legacy, he would run RACHA gym the way it was meant to be. Respect, Honor, and, Dignity.

Minho was an active child who tried every sport at least once, except one. He would beg his parents to let him box after seeing a movie his grandpa snuck in. Min would be told no over and over again. That didn't stop him, however, nor did it stop his grandpa. Every day after school when he would go to his grandfather's house, the two would watch old wrestling and boxing clips on black and white VHS. Minho loved it. He would go to bed and dream about his name in lights and fans cheering him on. Where his parents saw violence, he saw art. And where they saw brain-dead meatheads, Minho saw geniuses. He studied each play on a loop until he could accurately predict what came next. When other kids were out playing, he was calculating hitboxes and wingspan. He would tell you by one look if you were a swarmer, out-boxer, slugger, or box-puncher. At the age of 10, his grandfather enrolled him in private boxing lessons out of his garage and soon enough Minho was fighting in underground matches. Was it entirely legal? no. Was his grandpa and him making money off of his winning bets? hell yes. The original owner of RACHA Gym witnesses the illegal betting during a match between Minho and Chan. He agreed to not say anything under one condition, Lee Know would fight under the RACHA name. Years later, Lee Know has become one of the biggest names in boxing, fighting with his grandpa's name tattooed on his knuckles. He even has a student of his own, a popular boy named Hyunjin.

As soon as anyone saw him, they knew Changbin was a fighter. As soon as he was able to stand on his own two feet, he was in the ring. The Seo family was synonymous with the boxing world. With a legacy that large, disappointment was sure to follow. Binnie was a relatively scrawny child who hardly packed a punch. Thus Changbin was thrown out of the family light, favor was instead she'd on his brothers and cousins. He did everything in his power to gain the respect he could but he could see his light fading out. He put all his anger, frustration, and loneliness into boxing. When he wasn't at work he was at the RACHA gym, putting his life into the ring. Changbin and Chan grew up almost as brothers. They two protected each other and cared for one another. Where Chan showed Changbin's company, Binnie showed Christopher's strength. Before long Bin became the most feared fighter in the ring, known for swinging first and thinking second. However, the boys all know he is a softy at heart. He just doesn't hope the new kid, Seungmin, doesn't find out.

Hyunjin was as far as you could get from dirt and grime. He has never had to feel the grit rubbed into his wounds or a fist to an open jaw like so many others had. No, Jinnie was a pretty boy from a rich family. He only knew glitz and glamor. Where others built their paths, he was carried along his. That's what he disliked the most. He wasn't an individual, a personality, a body, or even a thought. Hyunjin was an image, a figurehead, a puppet to be played for the entertainment of other rich snobs. He wanted more out of his life, he was filled with rage and no outlet. His blow-up was a public affair. Hyunjin didn't mean to beat the living hell out of his brother-in-law but if you push one too many buttons, something is bound to happen. However, sometimes curses can become blessings, especially if the new owner of an award-winning boxing studio catches wind of your actions. Chan brought in the ball of fire much to the complaints of the other boys. They hated how he got to walk in and be a fighter. But then Hyunjin lost match, after match, after match. Soon enough that ego whittled down. Hyunjin learned this was an art rather than an impulse. Adrenalin only gets you so far. It usually winds you up in the medic chair being worked on by the sweet young nursing student. It also makes you look into the disappointed eyes of your master, Minho.

Han was not a name anyone knew in boxing. J-one was barely even remembered past amateur matches. He was decent, maybe even a little more than that. Han has the techniques, the skills, the body, and even the support. What he lacked was the motivation. There was no drive for Jisung to fight, he didn't see the point. Chan was his best friend, the two did everything together. Han followed Chan like his personal cheerleader and in return Chan kept him safe. Jisung was easily the butt of everyone's aggression. He was small and lacked a bite. Chan thought he knew what he was doing when he enrolled his best friend at the studio. How could Han say no when Christopher had done so much for him? When Han began to lose his matches, Chan was convinced it was because the boy needed to work harder, so he pushed. This put a tear in their relationship. Han loved and hated Christopher at the same time, he couldn't see that he was treating Han the same way everyone else did. After a pretty brutal match was lost, small sniffles could be heard from the supplies room. Minho was shocked to see the crying boy behind some old equipment. That's when it all hit, Han was losing these matches on purpose. Minho wasn't the best at comfort but he tried. Chan's heart broke when he learned the news, immediately pulling Han's name from the roster. Han still hangs around the studio every day, helping out in little ways. He wants to support his friends, not fight them.

Felix was a medical student looking for some work after graduation. The hospital was great work and gave good pay but something about it didn't click for Felix. He had always been someone who made close attachments, too close some may say. He was an empath to the description. Seeing patients come and go, never being able to care for them in the personal way they needed hurt Felix. Not knowing if they were recovering well kept him up at night. He wanted to take care of people, not treat them. Felix managed to get some odd jobs here and there but his favorite was working for an old boxing master. The man would tell stories of his glory days and how he was to leave his studio to his only son. Felix cared for the man every day and soon the two gained a special bond. When he passed away, Felix cried for hours. He worried about Chan and how he was handling the loss. Lix walked in right as Christopher's hand met the stone wall. Nothing mattered more than Chan at that moment, as Felix began to care for him right away. Lix knew it was bad, that Chan would probably never fight again. Chris said the only thing that made him feel okay in that moment was the sunshine smile Felix gave him. The two knew they were connected for life now, they may have lost someone close to them, but they gained someone who would become even closer. Felix enjoyed being the medic around the studio. The pay was awful and the boys always smelled like they needed a shower a week ago. But that didn't matter to him, Felix had his boys to take care of.

Seungmin was the newest fighter for RACHA, finally graduating from Chan's apprenticeship. Eager was an understatement. Minnie wanted a piece of the action, he could taste competition on his tongue. His fingers twitched and he could never stay still. He wanted to prove himself, he needed to prove himself. Not to his family or friends, not even to a puppy dog crush. Rather he needed to prove it to himself. He needed to know he could stand on his own and be the best. He trained for this, he studied for this, he lived for this. Seungmin was so sure he was going to become Minho's student. The two fought in similar styles. Seungmin remembered skipping classes to watch his idol fight. He kept a journal of every one of Lee Know's matches, connecting the dots just like Minho had said to do in interviews. So when he walked in to see Hyunjin with Minho, he was confused. Who would be his master if it wasn't the infamous Lee Know? Enter Seo Changbin. Bin knew he wasn't Seungmin's first choice but Chan knew what he was doing. The fireball needed someone to tame him and the enthusiast needed someone to bring him to reality. Minnie may never admit it, but he is glad he had Changbin.

Jeongin was a newborn baby in the world of boxing. Once Seungmin had been promoted upwards, Chan needed a new apprentice. When Innie walked in looking for a summer activity, Christopher's heart melted. He saw in Jeongin what his master saw in him. Chan knew he could be that guidance for Jeongin. His boxing name came rather fast after the boys struggled to remember his actual name. Finally when looking at Felix's medical notes he saw the name I.N. and it stuck. While Jeongin appreciated having a place that kept him out of bad crowds, there was a lot less fighting than he would have liked. Instead, he was stuck watching and learning, feeling like he was in school all over again. Minho would teach him lessons in predictions and stats. Changbin was tasked with correcting the kid's form and stance. Chan taught him the values of boxing. Even Hyunjin and Seungmin stepped in to give their insights. Though most days dragged on, Innie always found himself coming back. Something about it all was so addicting. Chan could see the spark behind his eyes when he landed a hit just right or dodged one of Han's swings. Chan had decided that Jeongin would become his one and only student.

The Sweetest Batch: @goblinracha, @xx3rachaslutxx, @j-onedrabbles, @lixiesweetbrownie, @marrivmel,@lyramundana, @lixiestarryhallows, @raaaaaaahhhh