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zegrasdrysdale · 1 year ago

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More Jamie angst please 🙏🙏

[ last season ] j. drysdale

paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : Jamie reaggravates his shoulder injury from last season two games into the 23-24 season. (Y/N) tries to be there for him but taking care of him isn't as easy as it was last time

warning(s) : angst (w a happy ending) ! injured Jamie

author’s note : y’all are just as bad as me w angst. you can’t blame me for this one if tears are shed. one of you asked for this and your wish is my command. also, yes ik that jamie technically has a lower body injury rn but a shoulder injury just works better with this plot

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(Y/N) has been to dozens of hockey games in her life, and watched thousands more. She's watched games where players return after an injury that kept them out long term. She has never personally known a player that has returned from long term injury. She's never watched someone she knows return to the ice after nearly a year away from the NHL.

Until now.

The lights in the Honda Center are dimmed and the starting lineup for the Ducks is being announced. Trevor's line is starting the game. He's centering Adam Henrique and Troy Terry. The defensemen who are starting are about to be announced. She gets her phone ready to go because she knows her boyfriend is on the starting defensive pair.

"Your starting defensemen for the Anaheim Ducks," the announcer says. "Number four. Cam Fowler." The crowd cheers and (Y/N) smiles as she brings her phone up to hit record. "Playing in his first game in the Honda Center in 354 days, number six. Jamie Drysdale."

Jamie skates onto the ice and (Y/N) cheers and screams along with the crowd. She bangs on the glass while Jamie raises his stick to acknowledge the crowd.

He has a look of disbelief on his face as he looks around and skates up next to Cam. She smiles and looks at her boyfriend. He looks at the crowd around him and takes it all in.

She takes Jamie in on the ice in his new plum colored uniform. She knows how far he's come since getting hurt last year.

They had just gotten together when Jamie got hurt against Vegas and she saw him at his lowest. She saw him the day he got cleared to play again. (Y/N) can't help but smile as the lights come on and the Ducks begin to skate around to get ready for the game. The other lines and defensive parings skate to the bench.

Trevor gets into the circle at center ice against one of the Hurricanes players to take the first faceoff of the game. Trevor wins it and gets the puck back to Jamie.

(Y/N) watches with focused eyes, especially when Jamie gets the puck on his stick.

The first goal of the game goes to Sam Carrick nearly seven minutes into the first period. The second goal of the game comes less than two minutes later from Frank Vatrano. He slapped the puck into the net after Jamie passed him the puck.

She probably screams the loudest out of everyone in the Honda Center when she realizes that Jamie is going to get a point for that primary assist.

The boys celly right in front of her so she bangs on the glass. Jamie looks up at her and fist pumps the glass. She brings her fist up to meet his before he skates away to go fist bump his teammates on the bench.

"Anaheim Ducks goal!" comes over the loud speaker a minute later. "His first of the season, scored by number 77 Frank Vatrano! Assisted by number 6 Jamie Drysdale and number 4 Cam Fowler."

Her celebration is short lived because she watches Jamie get tripped by a Carolina player less than a minute later right in front of her. She stands up and sees Jamie go shoulder first into the boards.

The same shoulder he got surgery on and spent the last year rehabbing.

A gasp passes her lips when she hears the thud of his body hitting the boards. A penalty is called on Carolina and Jamie stays down on the ice. A hush falls over Honda Center.

Trevor is quick to skate up to him and get down beside him. She bangs the glass and Trevor looks up at her. He taps his shoulder as the trainer gets over to him. Her eyes widen and she runs up the stairs as soon as Jamie skates off the ice with help from the trainer and Trevor.

The first thought she has is that he tore his surgically repaired shoulder when he collided with the boards. The sound of Jamie’s body hitting the boards replays in her mind and the more she thinks about it, the more nervous she gets.

She makes her way down to the medical area by the locker room. She pulls out her pass that Jamie got her last year that tells security who she is. She shows the guard her pass to get into the players only area. He lets her through and she sprints to medical.

The doctor is checking out Jamie’s shoulder when she bursts into the room. The bottom part of his uniform is on but his sweater, undershirt, and gear are off the upper part of his body. He looks like he’s in a lot of pain as the doctor evaluates him.

“Jamie,” she pants. He looks over at her and relaxes. “I got down here as soon as I could.” (Y/N) walks over to him and grabs his hand.

“I need to learn how to hit the boards with my back,” he jokes. The doctor lifts his arm and he hisses in pain. “So this stops happening.”

She frowns and opens her mouth to say something but the doctor starts speaking first. “Fortunately, I don’t think you tore your labrum again. I don’t think anything is torn. I think it is just a moderate sprain but I want to get imaging done this week to make sure,” he tells Jamie. “Can you come in on Monday?”

Jamie nods, quiet. “I guess I’m done for the night,” he eventually says.

“I’m sorry, Jamie,” the doctor replies. “I think you’re done for a few weeks. Recovery time for this injury is six to eight weeks, sometimes less with rehabilitation and rest. Given your past history with your shoulder, I think rest is the best option right now. Don’t push it until the four or six week mark. Wear a sling and don’t try to rehabilitate it on your own. We’ll talk about that in a few weeks.”

With another quiet nod, he gets off the table and grabs his jersey, t-shirt, and gear. He sulks out of the medical area.

She looks at the doctor and asks, “What can I do? He had a hard time with the last shoulder injury. How can I help him with this one?”

“Be there for him,” he replies. “Physically. Emotionally. This is going to be twice as hard. He’s going to blame himself and take out how he’s feeling on you. He won’t mean it but sometimes he’ll need to let out how he is feeling. Try your best and take care of yourself while you take care of him.”

With a curt nod, (Y/N) follows Jamie out the door. She finds him in the locker room putting on his arrival suit. He groans with pain every time he moves to pull on a piece of clothing. She walks up to him to help him and he sighs.

“Here I am again,” he says as (Y/N) helps him put his jacket back on. “Leaving in the middle of another game because I hurt my shoulder.”

She frowns and fixes his collar. “I’m sorry, baby,” she softly says. “Do you want to go get something to eat and bring it home? Do you want to go up to the suite to watch the rest of the game? Whatever you want.”

“I want to get back on the fucking ice,” he snaps. “But instead I’m leaving to go home and put my arm back in a stupid sling for four weeks.” Jamie grabs the first thing he can get his hands on — his helmet.

With his good arm, he chucks the helmet across the room. It hits a wall with a loud bang and falls to the ground. He strings a bunch of curses out in frustration as the helmet flies through the air. (Y/N) lets him get out how he’s feeling. If that means he throws around his equipment then he throws around his equipment. She isn’t going to stop him. She can’t even begin to imagine how he feels right now.

Jamie sits in his stall and (Y/N) crouches in front of him. Her hands run up and down his thighs. She sees tears in his eyes and frowns. “This isn’t how I wanted this season to go,” Jamie mumbles. “I didn’t want to be out for the first two months. I didn’t want to sit for a long period of time again. I don’t understand why I can’t stay healthy. It's so frustrating. I wanted this season to be different and it's almost exactly like last season."

"It's not like last season," she tells him. "You can do two months. Two months is nothing compared to last season. I promise." There's a horn on the ice and she realizes that the period is over. "Go talk to whoever you need to. I'll be out in the car waiting for you, okay?"

He nods and they both stand up. She gives his hand a quick squeeze before leaving the locker room. She probably isn't allowed to be in there to begin with so she shouldn't be here when the guys come in.

She doesn't run into anyone that's on the Ducks or works for them on the way to the car. She drove in with Jamie so he should know where it is whenever he's done talking to his coach and teammates.

Until then, she scrolls through her social media feed.

There are a lot of tweets on her timeline and in her notifications that are about Jamie. There are multiple clips of the trip and Jamie going into the boards. There are even more clips of Jamie getting up while holding his arm. There are even pictures of (Y/N) watching behind the glass. In all of them, she has a worried look on her face.

A lot of people are upset that Jamie got hurt because he just came back. There are a lot more that are wishing Jamie a speedy recovery.

Reports are already circulating that Jamie reinjured his shoulder. Not returning to the game and out six to eight weeks.

She decides to send out a little tweet since Jamie doesn't have Twitter.

y/n @/yourusername jamie's okay. a little banged up but he'll be back. gonna wrap him up in bubble wrap as soon as we get home, dpn't worry

As soon as she tweets it, her notifications begin to blow up.

The door opening beside her makes her jump a little. She looks over and watches Jamie get into the car. He slams the door shut and lets out a heavy sigh. "Are you-"

"Don't ask me if I'm okay," Jamie snaps. "Let's just go home."

With a nod, she starts the car and begins the ten minute drive from the Honda Center to their apartment. It's probably the quietest ride she's ever experienced.

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The Ducks aren't doing too bad this season. They're on five game winning streak, but it seems like the more the Ducks win, the more upset Jamie gets.

To hopefully make him feel better, (Y/N) takes him to the Honda Center nearly three weeks after he gets hurt to watch his friends and teammates play against the reigning Stanley Cup champs.

Hopefully they can make it a six game winning streak.

As soon as they pull into the parking lot, Jamie's mood sours. It's like he doesn't want to even be in the vicinity of the arena. He looks out the window at the building with a sigh. He has on a Ducks hoodie with a pair of jeans because it's actually kind of cold in California at the moment. His arm is in the sling. It's been there for three weeks.

"Hey," she says with a smile. "I think it'll be nice to see everyone. You haven't really been out since you got hurt so I think it'll be nice to see your friends and teammates. I'm sure Z misses having you around. Mason too."

Jamie just nods, sighs, and gets out of the car. She feels a surge of something that feels like annoyance as she follows him out of the car.

She's been trying her hardest to make things easier for him. She has been helping him with a lot, including beginning his rehab so he can get back on the ice. Clearly he misses playing so she went against the doctor's wishes and has started helping him rehab his shoulder.

And she's gotten nothing in return. All Jamie does is snap at her and tell her to go away when she's been trying to help him.

"You know, a little 'thank you for taking me out' wouldn't hurt," she says behind Jamie as he walks toward the back entrance.

"Thank you for dragging me out of the apartment against my will," he says in reply. "Really appreciate it."

(Y/N) stops walking and just stares at the back of Jamie. "I'm trying to help you, Jamie," she calls after him. "I know how hard it is for you to-"

Jamie whips around so quickly she's afraid that he gave himself whiplash. "No, (Y/N)," he snaps, interrupting her. He starts to walk back toward her. "You don't know how hard it is for me. You have no idea how it feels to be taken out of play again because you hurt your shoulder. You have no idea how it feels to sit back and watch your teammates win five fucking games without you. It's like they don't even need me and it shows. I'm supposed to be out there and instead, I'm stuck inside doing nothing but rehab and resting. Don't tell me you know how hard it is for me because you don't. You will never understand how hard it is for me."

Her eyes widen. She's never seen this side of him. Not even when he was hurt last season.

"I'm sorry," she softly says. Her voice cracks. "I'm just trying to help."

"No you're not," Jamie replies. "You wouldn't have dragged me here if you were." Those words stung. She felt them with her entire chest and it causes tears to well in her eyes.

"Jamie," she tries to say but he turns around and walks toward the arena.

"Go home, (Y/N). I'll get a ride back with Trevor or Mason."

She watches Jamie as he opens and door walks into the Honda Center. She's left standing in the middle of the parking lot with nothing but the tears that roll down her cheeks as soon as Jamie can't see her. She tries to blink and wipe away the tears but they don't seem to stop. She walks toward the car so she isn't crying in the middle of the parking lot.

This is nothing like last season. Not the injury, and not Jamie.

(Y/N) drives back to the apartment in complete silence. The tears haven't stopped rolling down her face. It might be dangerous to drive while crying but she doesn't care. She just wants to get home and lay in bed.

As soon as she's back in the apartment, she walks right to the room she shares with Jamie. She passes the small room that they turned into a gym. Jamie's equipment is in the room too. She stops and walks into the room. Her eyes are on the equipment that's thrown in the corner by the closet.

She walks over and picks up the helmet that has a dent in it from when Jamie threw it in the locker room the day he got hurt. She runs her thumb over the 6 on the front of the helmet and bites down on her lip to keep it from wobbling.

All she wants to do is watch Jamie play hockey. She wants to watch him zoom around the ice and do what he does best. She wants to watch him do what he loves. That's all. She hasn't been able to watch him play the sport he loves to play, and it breaks her heart.

With the helmet in her hand, she walks out of the gym and into their bedroom. She kicks off her sneakers and crawls on top of the covers. (Y/N) sits with her knees up and the helmet on her lap. Her fingers run over the number and tears begin to roll down her cheeks again. They continue to roll down her cheeks until she dozes off.

She didn't mean to fall asleep though.

It's nearly midnight when a door opens and wakes her up. She looks at the time and realizes that she missed the entire Ducks game. The bedroom door opens and Jamie stands in the doorway. The helmet has rolled onto the mattress beside her. The sight of Jamie angers her and causes her to chuck the helmet at him.

She's no longer upset with him. She's angry at him for the way he's been treating her.

"Jesus, (Y/N)," he gasps as he catches it with his free arm. "Why did you-"

"I've tried to be here for you," she interrupts. "The past three weeks, I've been nothing but your emotional punching bag and I'm tired of it. I've gotten nothing in return and I try to do something with you by taking you to the game, you tell me to go home. No, I will never understand how hard it is for you to be hurt and watch your friends win games without you, but you don't understand that I'm hurting too, Jamie. I want nothing more than to watch you play hockey. I have yet to watch you play a full game of hockey and that's all I want to do because I want to support you. If you don't think that I'm trying to help you get back on the ice then I'll stop because I'm so tired of being the person you take your feelings out on. Tell me to go and I'll go stay somewhere until you heal and are able to play again."

Jamie's eyes are on her the entire time she's talking. He holds the helmet she threw at him in his hand while she finishes what she has to say.

He looks down at the helmet in his hands when she's done. "I didn't know you felt that way," he says.

"I'm frustrated too," she tells him. "I don't have anyone I can go to like you do. You have me, you have an entire team. I don't have anyone because I only have you and I didn't want to burden you with how I'm feeling. I have no one to talk to because the one person i want to talk to has so much going on and I didn't want to make it worse."

She watches his face soften through the tears that have formed in her eyes for what feels like the hundredth time that night. He drops the helmet and walks over to her side of the bed.

Jamie sighs and puts a hand on her knee. "I haven't been very fair to you, have I?" he asks. She shakes her head in reply while she wipes away the tears that have started to roll down her cheeks again. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't realize that this has been hard on you too. I didn't realize that I've been such an asshole to you. I'm just frustrated and I'm taking all of that out on you when you've been nothing but there for me. You don't deserve that."

"I don't like seeing you hurt," she cries. "I want you to get better. I want to watch you play so I can be the supportive hockey girlfriend I've wanted to be since day one. I love watching you on the ice and I want to watch you under the NHL lights."

He frowns and moves so he can envelope her in a hug. She buries her face into his good shoulder and lets out a couple sobs. Her tears wet his hoodie but she doesn't care right now. It'll dry.

Jamie wraps his free arm around her neck and holds her close. "I don't want you to go anywhere, (Y/N)," he whispers. "I need you here. I won't be able to get through this if you aren't here. I know I haven't been the best boyfriend recently and I'm so sorry. You'll never be a burden with how you feel. You can talk to me, okay?"

She backs away and wipes away her tears. Jamie swipes one away with his thumb. "Okay."

"I love you," Jamie tells her. "Even if I don't show it. I love you and I'm very happy you've stuck around despite me being an asshole to you."

"I stayed because I love you too," she replies. "I'll always love you."

He presses a soft kiss to her lips before resting his forehead against hers. "I can't wait for you to watch me kill it on the ice when I'm all healed."

"I'll be in the stands cheering for you the entire time."

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MASTERLIST

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#hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale fic #jamie drysdale angst #zegrasdrysdale request #anon ask

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uwabbittuwabbit · 7 months ago

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Colors of…the Repsol Honda Team

At the announcement that every team is dropping a vintage livery come Silverstone, I am taking it upon myself to dig into the history of each team’s liveries. We shall start with Repsol Honda, the much storied, and nowadays much troubled manufacturer. The HRC official colors of red, white and blue purportedly represent passion (red), purity (white) and calm (blue), qualities that can be ascribed to winning riders, to paraphrase. In fact, the origin of these colors is much simpler: the colors debuted on the bike of one Morio Sumiya, who participated in the 24 Hours of Le Mans representing Honda. Little imagination is required then, to conclude as to why these colors were used.

Repsol’s current brand image is the work of the Wolff Olins consultation, only slightly altered in the passage of time. The change was brought on by the corporatization of Repsol, which as such needed something more commercially recognizable—an R encased in concentric circles just wouldn’t do anymore. The result is the orange and red sun motif with the white strike-through, which embody such ideas like that of “energy”, “professionalism”, “stability”, “strength” etc. Take of that what you will.

Nebulous brand concepts aside, what can be said definitively is that the bikes of the Repsol Honda team have become cornerstones of the grid, easily identifiable in their trademark orange (fun fact: they were the first team to paint the inside of their tires). Seeing as the Repsol partnership is due to end after this season, this may not be the case in the future. But we are concerned about the prospects of the past, so let’s round it up:

500cc Era Liveries

Pre Repsol

Not much explaining needed on my part because these are liveries that largely feature the HRC colors with a few other accents. This was probably their most experimental era as evidenced by the variation presented below:

From left to right, top down: Freddie Spencer circa 1983, Wayne Gardner circa 1990, Mick Doohan circa 1994, Wayne Gardner circa 1980 (exact date not sure)

Post Repsol

Back when Honda first partnered with Repsol their newly minted logo was in its first iteration, featuring a kind of teal color and some additional “speed” lines added on the bottom of the sun. All of Mick Doohan’s championship wins from 1995 onwards would be with some variation of the giant Repsol sun stamped on the side of his bike, the teal color permeating the rest of the cladding in an evocation of the sky. His last season in MotoGP would be spent with this livery too.

Top to bottom, left to right: Mick Doohan 1995, 1996, 1997, 1998

Honorable mention goes to Valentino Rossi’s Nastro Azzurro Honda! He wasn’t in Repsol Honda yet but I feel it would be remiss not to mention and certainly not hard to miss, considering that shade of yellow…

Valentino Rossi, 2000 and 2001

A special shoutout to the 2001 Hawaiian print bike!

MotoGP Era

For all of Valentino’s short tenure at Repsol Honda, he sure had as much fun as he could. Two championships aside, this did not apply equally to the livery—unfortunately, it should be seen at this point that the team already had a penchant for the same old thing.

Valentino Rossi 2002 and 2003

2003, running a special livery farewelling Honda

Honda would continue their successes with a retinue of talented riders, the likes of Nicky Hayden, Dani Pedrosa, Andrea Dovizioso, Casey Stoner and Marc Marquez all donning Repsol orange. Unlike their prodigies the livery had largely calcified into a fixed form, which saw no substantial changes in appearance aside from a scant few special livery runs. Iconic or not? Certainly for some it is not a sight for sore eyes.

Top to bottom, left to right: Nicky Hayden 2007, Dani Pedrosa 2008, Casey Stoner 2011, Andrea Dovizioso 2011, Marc Marquez 2019

Bonus: Mom I’m a star! Dani Pedrosa and Casey Stoner share the podium, Aragón 2011

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Sources: On Honda // On Repsol (1) // On Repsol (2)

#eternarchives #motogp #colors of…

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locke-writes · 8 months ago

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Team Bio - Anaheim Ducks

First Season: 1993-1994

Rink Name: Honda Center (Anaheim, California)

Previous Team Name(s): Mighty Ducks

Conference/Division: Western Conference, Pacific Division

Stanley Cup Wins: 1 (2006-2007 Season)

Team Colors: Black, Gold, Orange, Silver

Player Info Below:

Current Important Players:

Lukas Dostal (Goalie)

Cam Fowler (Defense)

John Gibson (Goalie)

Radko Gudas (Defense)

Max Jones (Left Wing)

Mason McTavish (Center)

Ryan Strome (Center)

Troy Terry (Right Wing)

Frank Vatrano (Right Wing)

Trevor Zegras (Center)

Past Important Players (either retired players or traded to other teams):

Teemu Selanne (Right Wing)

Paul Kariya (Left Wing)

Frederik Andersen (Goalie)

Scott Neidermeyer (Defense)

Kevin Bieksa (Defense)

Andrew Cogliano (Left Wing)

Jamie Drysdale (Defense)

Adam Henrique (Center)

Ryan Kesler (Center)

Hampus Lindholm (Defense)

Josh Manson (Defense)

Patrick Maroon (Left Wing)

Brandon Montour (Defense)

Kyle Palmieri (Forward)

Rickard Rackell (Right Wing)

Jakob Silfverberg (Right Wing)

Nate Thompson (Center)

Sami Vatanen (Defense)

Tagging: @heliads

#noah talks hockey #the Ducks are my number 1 #I love them so much

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viofitz · 27 days ago

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Review: Aoshima F-1 series 1/32

Introduction:

Aoshima Bunka Kyozai Co. Ltd., commonly truncated to Aoshima, is a Japanese model manufacturer based in Shizuoka Prefecture. It produces plastic modelkits of a variety of vehicles under Aoshima brand along with some other brands. The company was founded by by airplane pilot Jiro Aoshima in 1924 which named Aoshima Airplane Research Institute. In 1932, model-airplane was designated as an educational material in Japanese schools, and "Shizuoka model-airplane association" was established. Jiro Aoshima acceded to the chairman's post. There are many lines established by Aoshima brand but, in here I'm going to focus on their F-1 series. Judging from their respective boxarts, the cars were seemingly based on the 1987 Formula One World Championship. Which pressumably released way earlier than both Tamiya, ARII and Fujimi released their own Mini F-1.

1. Lotus Honda 99T (Ayrton Senna):

As depicted from the box art, Aoshima produced the legendary Lotus Honda 99T owned by the late Ayrton Senna. The car was designed by Gérard Ducarouge for use by Lotus in the 1987 Formula One World Championship. The overall car's bodyshell color is yellow added with extensive sponsors livery, they even added some decal that was barely visible in the narrow position. The bodyshell was separated into 2 parts; main body and rear wing. Finally another car that belongs to Senna that is not McLaren or Williams, the 99T also proved to be competitive in Senna's hands; the Brazilian won twice and scored six. Thus earning the title as one of Senna's iconic car.

2. Williams Honda FW11B (Nelson Piquet):

Yup, another Williams car but, belongs to Nelson Piquet. It was designed by Frank Dernie as a serious challenger to McLaren and their MP4/2C car. The car took over from where the FW10 left off at the end of 1985, when that car won the last three races of the season. The bodyshell was originally white colored plastic but with added livery details, the car mainly got 3 colors; white, dark blue and yellow but, there're red and black colors in several parts such as livery trims and sponsors. Like 99T, the car also got extensive sponsors livery which made the bodyshell looking like an actual FW11B car. The car won first time out in Brazil with Piquet in 1986, before Mansell laid down a title challenge with four wins. Well... Atleast, there's an achievement for this car from Nelson Piquet himself. Although, the decals was also included with Mansell's numbering car so, you can actually make Mansell version as well. However, in this review the conversion of this model kit is more focused on the box art depiction, which is Piquet version.

3. Lotus Honda 99T Nakajima Version (Satoru Nakajima):

Another variant of 99T which was based on Satoru Nakajima car but, you can still make Senna's version by using his numbering decal. This version replaced "Camel" font with "Lotus" but, the Camel picture logo remains there. Aside from the livery, there're several body mold differences; specifically on the rear wing, front wing and there's extra accessory for the hole part near the roll hoop. Nakajima was overshadowed by his teammate but, proved to be steady if the unspectacular driver. Nakajima's best finish in his first season was a 4th at Silverstone for the British Grand Prix.

Aoshima F-1 Chassis:

The chassis was build to fit with the bodyshells; which you'll have to fit the rear body's pegs into the front part of the gearbox's peg hole and snap in the front part of the gearbox with matching chassis peg for the hole on driver's interior, while the rear wing's location is right behind the gearbox. The chassis only got 2 gears which for motor and rear wheels so, there's no 4WD feature since they're not mini 4WD. The overall chassis is similar to Mini F-1 chassis but, slightly sturdier. Despite this, the front part is still the most fragile one due to many thin parts, which I accidentally broke some thanks to my carelessness. The good part for this chassis is; they don't look stand out thanks to the body almost fully covering them.

Driver parts are actually the only thing they didn't do much but, they still added decals for them. My friend did most of the helmet livery such as Senna and Piquet one.

Thoughts:

Unlike Tamiya and other brands, Aoshima seemingly fully licensed this model kit with extensive sponsors livery that pretty closely resembles their actual cars, seen from this conversion. They also included rear view mirror for this model kit, making this more detailed than what Tamiya, ARII and Fujimi did. However, for a 1/32 they're way smaller than I thought but, with that amount of extensive livery details I gotta admit Aoshima really nailed this conversion perfectly. This looks more like an actual miniature instead of your regular mini F-1 toys. Unfortunately, the frustrating part was on assembling 99T's bodyshell; which I had a real hard time dealing with the small parts and ended breaking several joint parts due to small peg holes but, gladly they didn't really stand out since mostly on the peg joints. You'll need to scrape the hole to fit the pegs, mainly on the roll hoop and driver holes. However, despite how detailed they looks, they're still overshadowed by Tamiya.

Repaint & detail by Archyd.

#toys #review #toy review #aoshima #williams f1 #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #model kit #miniature #fw11 #99t #lotus #honda #ayrton senna #nelson piquet #satoru nakajima

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bleachbleachbleach · 9 months ago

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Hi, guys! I was wondering, what are your favourite Bleach intros and why? Genuinely curious about this

@whipplefilter: I'm a fake fan and don't have strong attachments to any of the Bleach music, but looking back through my off-the-top-of-my-head faves, they all have two things in common! They all have some kind of engagement with urban environments, and they all prominently feature Matsumoto. Which, like, very on brand of me, albeit unconsciously!

Top Fave: Ranbu No Melody - SID

AKA what we here at B3 call "the marble OP." I know it's the hougyoku, whatever. I'm into the experimental, subject-less first third of this OP, though, which is just a series of urban environmental shots, shown first in full and then with an overlay reminiscent of a film negative. The intensity/gravity/bananasness of having moved and replaced Karakura with Fake Karakura is minimized in the story itself, but I feel like it comes roaring in this OP, and I love it.

And then we have this GORGEOUS shot of Matsumoto (crying over Ichimaru's dead body), which is beautifully rendered and also makes my heart hurt for her. And I think it's cool that it plays forwards and also judders backwards--there's a destabilzation of time/affect happening that intrigues.

Also, I actually do like the song itself! The refrain as the imagery changes from urban stills to character motion makes my heart flutter.

2nd Place: Rolling Star - YUI

Nothing but wins here, honestly. More Matsumoto, and Ichimaru's representative ghost holding her in a strangling embrace. (Her hair also seems a bit shorter than usual, so either it's caught up in the way his body is pressing against her back, or it's from an earlier point in canon--either reading delights me.)

Then we have Ichigo manspreading in a hipster loft/cafe and the Advance Team in a different industrial hipster cafe, with RENJI AND HIS HAT, and it's all gold. (Not pictured but imminently entering the third screenshot is Matsumoto, just to note the Matsumoto quotient required of all my fave OPs.)

3rd Place: Shoujo S - SCANDAL

I mostly like this one because it's the "Dancing Girls OP," and I especially love Orihime and Rukia dancing their duet, because the physicality of their bodies and movements brings out the ways they contrast and complement each other.

But the "Shinigami in Random Urban Settings" motif isn't to be slept on here, either! LOOK, IT'S SASAKIBE POSING WITH SOMEONE'S LAUNDRY. YAMAMOTO WITH A VENDING MACHINE.

✨✨✨ AND KIRA MOODILY SHARING AN ALLEYWAY WITH SOMEONE'S 2005 HONDA ACCORD. ✨✨✨

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@ippoddity Ngl I am not good at remembering OPs off the top of my head and I also don’t have any strong attachments to any of them, because I never watched Bleach while it was airing. I also don’t know the names of any of these songs, I only know them by nicknames LOL.

For some reason, my top favs also align pretty closely with my co-blogger’s. I’ve been sitting here just trying to bring OPs to mind, and the "Marble OP" is one of the most memorable. I’ll also always remember “Hitsugaya Cafe”, because we spent a long time trying to color match Renji’s hat. (whipple: I could not for the life of me find the additional version where actual color balancing was involved, though you'd think it'd be a reblog of that post or at least appear in the archive around the same time. Choosing to believe Tumblr deleted it out of Hatgate censorship!!) “Dancing Girls” will always be a fav, because I think this was one of the first times I tried to make a GIF? And it was simply because I love everyone in their girl group era.

chAngE - miwa

I also have to give a shoutout to this song, because it is one of the few OPs that I know how it goes off the top of my head. The animation is also gorgeous and has a lot of fun action shots!

STARS - w.o.d

I will admit that I didn’t really like the song itself when it was first introduced, but it really grew on me over time. Plus, I really love the animation. It’s such a fun modern AU. I mean, who can resist Ichigo wielding a double-necked guitar like he’s going to bludgeon someone with it?

#matsumoto rangiku #bleach anime #bleach #no brain just bleach #asks #thank you for the ask!#apologies for the long post lol

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realcarreviews · 2 years ago

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2005 Honda Accord

This was my first car so its my first review.

Mine looked sorta like this one I guess. I dont really remember too well but it was the same sorta gray metallic color. I think the color of my car was called meteorite or some weird closeted-esque thing like that. Like you know just a little fruity but wears khakis and sketchers. These are really about as generic as you can get. This car has “love listening to music” in its tinder bio. Associates of Liberal arts ass car. 3.0 gpa no extracurriculars ass car. “I can only draw stick figures” ass car.

I got mine during my junior year of highschool from my dad. It was a 5 speed manual 4 cylinder making, according to wikipedia, “ 161 hp (120 kW) and 160 lb⋅ft (217 N⋅m)”. Nothing crazy, I remember it used to shake a lot when it got up to like 75-80 mph. That was probably cause I was a kid and didnt maintain it well but who knows. Its for sure one of the cars of all time. For a car, it can drive, reverse, go forward, and if you have a manual, you can shift gears as well.

I probably loved it at the time and I do have a lot of fond memories of it. It was perfect for highschool me, but I never had a whole lot of fun with it. Theres not really much to say about this car honestly. They’re about as mid as you can get for a car. I beat mine up using it for pizza delivery, it broke down on me a few times. Once the clutch broke while I was on the job. Another time it was 1 am and I was driving with my friend. I was taking a left turn when suddenly it slammed into the ground. My front right axle broke mid turn and sent my front wheel grinding into the street. I remember when I got out to see what happened I heard an evil witches laugh somewhere in the distance. I mean a real like witchlaugh.mp3 ass laugh. Fuckin halloween decoration ass laugh. So if you have one of these watch out for witches I guess. It seems to be a very cursable car. Mine eventually died becuase I didn’t put coolant in it and the head gasket blew. So you do need to maintain them which is weird for a Honda.

All this being said this is a fine car. If you need a car and can find one for cheap it’ll work. You wont stand out or win any races but who cares. It’ll get you there. Thats all that really matters. The manual transmissions for these are easy to work. Nice and rubbery, easy operation and fast enough to merge into traffic reliably.

Pros:

-Its a honda, cheap to maintain and repair.

-Its a car.

-Headlights????

-good turning radius actually

Cons:

-Witches will curse this one.

-You have to put coolant in it or it will break (abnormal)

-A girl who I dated one time said it was the best looking car in the senior lot and she was wrong about that. I took her to prom but we only ever kissed. Im more gay now thank god.

#honda #honda accord #car review #Real car reviews #liberal arts #normal ass car

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moderndavetherapy · 3 months ago

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Perfection

Remember Covid?

The whole world shifted and life as we knew it changed with the introduction of this new virus. Wearing masks, cashing stimulus checks, and getting furloughed was the new status quo. The impact Covid had upon society was just as big if not bigger than it had on an individual person. Take that it in....

Covid-19. The latest plague that could weaken your well-being, take away your taste, ruin your respiratory system, and lose your life. Not only could you be killed, but you were guaranteed to be changed at a minimum. The way it altered society was off the charts. Schooling, working, grocery shopping, eating, and simply living were all affected in a negative way. From being deemed vital to finding out you lost your career were two sides of a coin flip that even the most degenerate bettors couldn't quench.

Even though we live in an era filled with scientific and technological advancements beyond the average brain, the human race just can't seem to dodge or dismantle physical and mental illness. These cancers and curses spread like a wildfire, burning up the entire family tree making it its destiny to reach your soul. Three cups of asthma, half a cup of depression, one teaspoon of hypertension and a dash of bipolar is the recipe for one David carbonara.

Lately, theres been one "bug" thats been doing more destruction than Hitler during Nazi Germany. That would be the infection of perfection...

There's got to be at least one asshole thinking, "I can't wait to hear about this privileged white fool's first world problem of not getting the CEO promotion or getting a new Tesla cyber truck in the wrong color." Touche', but hear me out...

Somewhere during the times when I was wee lad, we got a few things twisted and I've been tangled ever since. Ma always said, "Just do your best and everything will be alright." From exquisite performances across all avenues of my life: piano recitals, baseball diamonds, classrooms, laboratories, and damn near everywhere I've been, success has been found with an absence of happiness.

I remember being twelve years old walking away from my favorite place on earth, the little league baseball field. I thought there was a chance I'd be on Sportscenter the next day, after a starstruck performance of going 3-3, 3 HR 6RBI. The ugliest part about the statline was we didn't win the game. As I walked towards my mom's grey honda civic with my three homerun balls in hand, all I could think about was what I could have done different to change the outcome of the game. Instead of celebrating the best game of my life, I played out thousands of scenarios from separate timelines in which the win would've been obtained.

Alright alright, instead of reliving some childhood memories let's take a look at something a little more recent. I took my last job in the cannabis industry as an extraction technician. Essentially my job was to transform flower into various concentrates and my motto was, "Fire in, fire out." I remember my first run, tightening the bolts of a steel column that I just filled with fresh frozen material. My new boss gave me the standard parameters for their system, but I had some other ideas in mind. I'll never forget the liquid gold that poured like honey out of the collection column into the glass baking sheet. I found my favorite metal spatula and started whipping the eventual badder, imagining I was on Hell's Kitchen being watched by Gordon Ramsey. After all post processing was completed and all solvents were purged, it turned into a waiting games as the testing facility diagnosed the samples to determine the results. After four days, I was called into the lab director's office and was interrogated like I was on trial. After learning I had produced one of the best products the company had every seen (one that won the 2020 Jack Herer Cup for Best Sativa Concentrate) I spent more time focusing on the flaws, rather the success. I ignored the obscenely high terpene and THC % results and complained about the slight dryness of the product. Instead of accepting the praise and compliments from coworkers, all that ran through my mind was what could be perfected.

I get it, to some, it may some come off like I'm bitching about minor imperfections. Some kids never get to play organized sports and some adults never get a choice in the careers. That's not the point I'm trying to make. There have been numerous success stories of my life that have resulted in dismay, due to misconstruing trying my best for perfection.

As kids, we are urged to shoot for the stars and strive for greatness. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that. My favorite athlete is and always will be Kobe Bryant. He didn't win every championship, or even make every clutch shot, but I love him most for his work ethic and mentality. Kobe once said, "I was chasing perfection and excellence, even though I knew I will probably never catch it." I can understand that nobody is or ever will be perfect, but I struggle with accepting it.

Something still hasn't fully clicked between understanding and accepting. I'm not trying to defy gravity or take over the world, but I can't help but think I could've done better in every situation. This nightmare in my overanalytical mind, that runs like Usain Bolt, has led to countless sleepless nights. These sleepless nights allow the infection to spread like a cancer that slowly deteriorates my dreams. It's almost a paradox in itself. Why strive for perfection, when it can never be obtained? Why practice a craft that can never be perfected? The answer is plain and simple...because we can.

The infection of perfection has slowly loosened its' grip upon my throat and I've been able to let out a gasp of relief. I'm not only embracing, but ACCEPTING, that one can perform their best and still make countless mistakes. Most importantly...ITS ALRIGHT! It's fine to keep up with hobbies and activities that you enjoy doing, even if you're not very good at them. We are slowly getting in the habit of being happy knowing that I did everything I could, even if the results are not what we desire. I can go to sleep in peace at night, knowing I didn't execute perfectly. The infection of perfection has enabled me to put forth extraordinary efforts and a work ethic that cannot be learned. I am thankful for that aspect.

Chasing perfection can lead one to new heights and even make the world a better place. Imagine the world without Steve Jobs or Stanley Kubrick. This mindset allowed these two to reach new levels of success. As I've learned more about who I am, I know I will continue the never-ending chase of perfection...

The only difference is that I will now acknowledge my flaws and simply move past them in acceptance, rather than dwell in a fictitious reality I've deemed the Infection of Perfection.

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riddlerlesbian · 2 years ago

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how to win at dreidel: a yugioh hanukkah fic [ ao3 link ]

yugi convinces the kaibas to come to his hanukkah party with the promise of games. it goes as well as can be expected with kaiba and jonouchi in the same room.

"I just don't know if we have enough room in the shop for that many extra guests…" Sugoroku pouts, stroking his chin as he looks over the invitations Yugi is making for his Hanukkah party.

Yugi rolls his eyes. "Grandpa, we've held tournaments here, I think we can manage three more people than the usual group. Right, mom?"

Yugi's mom chuckles. "You can bring whoever you want as long as they help clean up."

Sugoroku huffs. "There you have it. Atem will help clean up, but I'm not sure about these other two."

Yugi groans. "Okay, then, I won't ask you to host. I'll just do it at my apartment, where I can invite whoever I want, how about that?"

Sugoroku huffs indignantly. "Don't say that. You know I love hosting. I just don't like the Kaibas."

Yugi sighs. "I know, but it's the first time since Anzu left that everyone's gonna be able to get together all at once. You don't even have to talk to Kaiba, there'll be plenty of other people."

"Alright, alright. I'm kicking him out if he causes a scene, though."

Yugi rolls his eyes, knowing full well that his grandfather is just as likely to cause a scene as Kaiba is.

Kaiba and Mokuba are the last ones to arrive. Mokuba bursts through the door excitedly, while Kaiba trails behind him a little reluctantly. They're both way overdressed, having a wildly different conception of party attire than the rest of the group. Mokuba is delighted by the fact that no one else is wearing a tie and takes his off, tossing it to Kaiba before strolling further into the shop.

The chatter dies down and Kaiba feels all eyes on him and most of them are not thrilled to see him. Yugi's mother and grandfather, Yugi, Atem, Anzu, Miho, Honda, Jonouchi, Otogi, and Bakura… It feels like walking into a firing squad, rather than a party. Kaiba calmly goes and stands by Yugi, one hand in his pocket.

"When do we play the game?" Mokuba asks, breaking the tension as he hops up on a counter, near Honda.

"That's later," Yugi says. "You two barely made it in time for the candles. Come on, by the window."

Three hanukkiyot have been brought out for the party. Sugoroku's, an old and elegant silver one with colorful jars for oil candles. Yugi's, a small one in a tin that he'd gotten from Chabad when he moved out. Anzu's, an electric Hello Kitty one. Before they light them, though, Anzu pulls out a box and hands it to Yugi. "I got you something."

Yugi's eyes light up as he opens the box quickly, then grins wider when he sees the contents. Nine colorful, interlocking pieces make up a puzzle-inspired hanukkiah. "Atem, look," he beams.

Atem glances, then grins, giving him a quick thumbs up.

Yugi quickly sets up the new one before going through the blessings and getting the candles lit, alongside Anzu. Kaiba, clueless about the whole situation, has to resort to eavesdropping on Honda and Jonouchi of all people answering Otogi's questions.

Most years, Sugoroku tells the story, with occasional interjections from Yugi's mother when he embellishes a little too much. But he insists he has to tell it a little differently each year or it won't be as interesting. Anzu had eventually joined in on correcting him when he got it "wrong". This year, it's the first year after Anzu moved to New York and the first year Atem is there as a separate entity from Yugi. And Yugi is nineteen and plenty old enough to run his own parties. This year, it's Yugi's turn to tell the story.

One year, right after his Bar Mitzvah, they'd tried to get him to take over the storytelling from Sugoroku. He made an effort to mumble through a few bits and pieces before getting too nervous to continue, especially since Anzu had asked him to speak up. Then, when he had actual friends to bring over, he didn't really want to try telling the Hanukkah story in front of Honda or Jonouchi.

This year… there's a determination in how Yugi carries himself. He says the blessings without stumbling, even though he can hear Otogi whispering questions to Honda and Jonouchi. But Yugi is not about to sing in front of everyone he knows, so when Anzu suggests they do sing, he declares that she can lead them in songs if she wants. She gets through one, entirely solo, then stares at the rest of them. "When did this turn into a performance?" she asks, stifling a laugh.

"I just like listening to you…" Miho says, giving Anzu a kiss on the cheek.

Anzu smiles. "You're excused, Miho… but the rest of you better start singing. Come on, Jonouchi, Honda, you know some of these, at least."

Once they get started again, Atem nudges Yugi to encourage him to sing, quietly joining in himself. Mokuba joins in with Jonouchi in wildly off-key attempts, but that corner of the room quickly devolves into laughter as they fumble switching between Hebrew, English, and Japanese depending on the song.

Kaiba stares at the scene, arms crossed over his chest, seeming disinterested, but in reality, he just doesn't understand this type of party. Not just that it's his first Hanukkah party, it's one of the few parties where people actually seem to be having fun, not just flexing their wealth on other rich people.

Once Anzu is satisfied with the number of songs, she gets everyone to settle down. "Yugi, are you ready to tell the story?"

Yugi nods, sitting by the window, candlelight flickering on his face. "Okay. Once upon a time--"

"You can't start it like that," Sugoroku protests, "you make it sound like a fairy tale."

Yugi wrinkles his nose. "A long time ago--"

"That's so generic…" Sugoroku laments.

"Can you let me tell the story?" Yugi groans. "A long time ago, the Greeks took over the land of Judea--"

"Is this a true story?" Mokuba raises his hand, only after he asks.

"Yeah!" Yugi says. "Um… well, this is more based on a true story because I don't remember a lot of historical details, but the basic plot points happened. So the Greeks tried to make people in the lands they took over be more Greek, which was bad for the Jews especially."

Atem raises his hand. "Which ones are the Greeks again?"

Bakura blinks at him. "The Mycenaeans," he says, after trying to remember how the historical timeline lines up.

Atem nods. "Okay. Continue."

"So there was a lot of conflict and the Greeks destroyed the Temple and there was a big war for a few years. It didn't look good for the Jews because we had a very small army and the Greeks were a big empire."

"Why didn't they just use their Ka?" Mokuba asks.

"Um, they couldn't do that, I guess," Yugi says. "I think no one could while Atem was sleeping."

Atem strokes his chin. "No, other civilizations could control Duel Monster spirits, like Atlantis."

"Well, the Greeks and Israelites weren't one of those," Yugi says.

"That one guy had a hammer, right?" Jonouchi says, trying to get them back on track.

"No, he was just nicknamed the hammer, but close enough. So Judah Maccabee lead the army and eventually, the Jews kicked the Greeks out and were able to reclaim their Temple. But there wasn't enough oil to keep the Menorah lit--"

"Why didn't they use candles?" Mokuba asks.

"Well, the Menorah is a special lamp that was lit continuously in the Temple and oil lamps work better for that, I guess?" Yugi scratches his head. "So they had to go get more oil, but it was a far trip, so it would be eight days before they got more oil. But miraculously, oil that was only enough for one night lasted eight days, until they got more oil."

"It sounds like they underestimated their oil to begin with," Kaiba says.

"Even so, it was a miracle because we overthrew oppressors and protected our people and our culture. And that's why we light eight candles and fry foods in oil."

"And play games?" Mokuba asks. "I was promised games."

"I did always wonder how the dreidel fit into all this," Atem muses. "Is it derived from the hammer somehow?"

Yugi glances over at Sugoroku, who shrugs. "Hell if I know how it got started, but it's a good time." He chuckles.

The Dreidel game is where things go wrong. Yugi had only convinced Kaiba to come by promising him a new game to learn and Kaiba, even spending most of the evening trying not to be actually rude, doesn't hide his disappointment when he's presented with a collection of tops.

"The game is… children's tops?" Kaiba says in disbelief, holding a clay dreidel in two fingers.

Sugoroku huffs at him. "They're called dreidels and I actually have a very impressive collection. I gather them from all over the world. That one was a gift from a friend in Morocco."

Kaiba sets it down.

Mokuba clambers onto Honda's shoulders to get a better look. "So is this like Beyblades?"

"No," Sugoroku says immediately.

"What's Beyblades?" Atem asks.

"They're tops with spikes and you spin them and they crash into each other and break into pieces and it's awesome," Mokuba says.

"Oh that sounds fun," Atem says. "We should play that, Grandpa."

"If you break any of my collection, I'm going to start breaking skulls," Sugoroku says, glaring pointedly at Kaiba.

"Yugi, explain the rules of the game already," Kaiba says, ignoring the glare he's receiving.

"Okay!" Yugi takes one of the dreidels and holds it up. "See, each has four sides. Nun, gimmel, hey, and shin. It means--"

Atem picks up one of the dreidels. "This has different letters on it."

"That one's from Israel; they use pe instead of shin there. As I was saying, it stands for 'a great miracle happened there', but in Israel they say here instead."

"Does that make it better for the game?" Kaiba asks intently.

"No, it just has one different letter." Yugi sets it aside to avoid confusion. "So the game goes like this. We each get a few candies to start and each round, we put one in. If it lands on nun, you don't get anything. If it lands on gimel, you get the whole pot. Hey means you get half of what's in the pot. Shin means you put one more piece into the pot. When you run out, you're out of the game."

"That's it?" Kaiba blinks. "It's all based on chance."

"Yeah, that's the great thing about it," Jonouchi laughs. "This one spins the best, I remember it from last year."

Kaiba frowns, then begins experimentally spinning dreidels to see which ones are better.

Yugi glances at Anzu.

"Let's all use the same one, just to make sure it's all fair," Anzu says.

"Okay, we're using this one," Jonouchi insists.

"It's not any better than the other ones…" Yugi rubs his temple, but puts the rest of them away.

"No, that one's the best spinner," Sugoroku chimes in.

Atem takes the dreidel from Jonouchi silently and gives it a spin. It rotates around the table for almost a minute before landing on gimel and Atem smirks. "I think I'll like this game."

"You better not be cheating with the Puzzle…" Kaiba glares.

"At this point, the Puzzle is just a flashy accessory, Kaiba," Atem purrs. "You know that."

"Let's play!" Mokuba bangs a fist on the table. "I'm gonna win."

"Alright, alright," Yugi holds up his hands, then starts passing out the candies. "Mokuba, you're the youngest; you can go first."

Mokuba takes the dreidel. "Two questions first. One: the win condition is getting all the candy, right?"

Yugi nods.

"Two: can I bet more than one piece per round?"

"Erm… I guess so, but I don't know why you would…" Yugi rubs the back of his neck, trying to figure out what Mokuba is planning.

"Okay!" Mokuba shoves all his candies into the pot and hands the dreidel off to Kaiba. "Don't let Jonouchi get ahead of you, big brother." With that, he retreats from the table and hops up on the counter by Sugoroku to spectate.

Kaiba eyes Mokuba curiously, then spins the dreidel, landing on nun.

The game goes like that, with a fairly normal spread of results from the dreidel, except Jonouchi lands mostly on gimel and hey, Atem only lands on gimel, and Kaiba keeps landing on nun and shin. After a few rounds, Kaiba is getting low on candies and his hits the table with his fist. "How do you keep doing that, Atem?"

Atem shrugs. "I'm very good at topping."

There's a fair bit of snickering at the table.

"Put the Puzzle away," Kaiba demands.

Atem chuckles and hands it over to Kaiba. "There, you see now, if you keep losing and I keep winning, you know the Puzzle has nothing to do with it."

"Don't be such a sore loser, Kaiba," Jonouchi chides. "Mokuba's out and he's never been happier."

Kaiba bristles.

"I'm still gonna win, don't get it twisted," Mokuba laughs.

"Sure, sure, I'll humor you," Jonouchi chuckles. "My turn, right?" He gets another gimel. "You know, Kaiba, I think you're just not in the spirit of the game, that's why you're losing."

"I'm not in the spirit because it's pure luck," Kaiba bristles.

Atem gets another gimel. "It's definitely a skill. Jonouchi knows how to top better than you."

Yugi elbows Atem for putting fuel on the fire.

"What? It's true," Atem protests. "Spinning tops is a skill."

Kaiba's stack of candies runs out the next round and he snarls in frustration.

Jonouchi chuckles. "Imagine that, both the Kaiba brothers out before anyone else. I knew there was a reason I liked this game."

"Yeah, because you're a pathetic little jackass who relies on luck and chance to get by," Kaiba stands, pointing a finger in Jonouchi's face.

"At least I know how to have fun, unlike you!" Jonouchi stands up as well. "Having a stick up your ass doesn't make you a better duelist, y'know!"

Anzu grabs Honda and stands him between the table and the windowsill with the candles on it. Miho and Ryuji follow suit get up to back away from the fight that's very obviously about to break out.

"Settle down, you two…" Yugi says. "It's just a game and we'll share candy at the end regardless of who wins. It's okay, Kaiba."

"It's not about candy, Yugi," Kaiba growls, keeping his eyes on Jonouchi.

"Yeah, it's about this guy thinking he's better than me and learning that he can't win every game by being filthy rich!" Jonouchi sneers. "If he didn't have so much money, he'd be worthless as a duelist."

"That's it--" Kaiba vaults over the table and tackles Jonouchi.

Atem pulls Bakura out of the way at the last second to make sure he doesn't get hit by a stray kick.

"Hey, stop--" Yugi protests. Kaiba and Jonouchi are already on the floor, rolling back and forth to try to pin each other down. "You're gonna knock over the candles!"

"I got that covered, Yugi, don't worry," Honda says, giving him a thumbs up.

"Oh." Yugi blinks, glancing over at him, guarding the candles for fire safety. "Um. Thanks." He turns back to Kaiba and Jonouchi. "Come on, guys, it's Hanukkah…"

"You said--" Kaiba grunts as he takes an elbow to the stomach. "--it's about a war."

Yugi puts his hands on his hips. "Grandpa, do something."

Sugoroku strokes his chin. "I mean, he's not wrong…" he muses. "Kick his ass, Jonouchi."

"Maybe they just need to get it out of their system," Ryuji suggests.

"Atem, help me. You grab Kaiba, I'll grab Jonouchi."

Atem nods, stepping forward.

Mokuba spots his chance. With most of the group focused on the fight or trying to break it up, he pulls a beanie out of his pocket, dashes forward, and scoops all of the candies into his hat before running back to the counter and standing up on top of it. He holds the stolen candies up triumphantly. "I win!"

Yugi and Atem manage to separate Jonouchi and Kaiba and Kaiba looks up at Mokuba. "What?"

Atem bursts into laughter once he puts together what just happened. "Well-played. He knew you two would end up fighting and took the candy while everyone was distracted."

Kaiba rubs the back of his neck, then gives Mokuba a thumbs up. "Good job, Mokuba." He straightens his coat out. "I hope you have extra, Yugi, because he is not going to share any of that."

"That's definitely cheating…" Jonouchi pouts, crossing his arms.

Mokuba looks over at Sugoroku and gives him big, pleading eyes.

Sugoroku sighs. "Nowhere in the rules does it say Mokuba can't do that, actually. It's a fair win. Now get off the counter."

Mokuba hops down and sits on a stool, triumphantly munching on his candy.

"It's actually fitting because the Hasmoneans couldn't win in a direct conflict with the Greeks, so they had to use more clever tactics," Sugoroku says. "See, it all ties together."

Yugi drags a hand down his face, but can't help but laugh. "You know what. Fine. We'll go with that."

#yugioh #yugi muto #seto kaiba #mokuba kaiba #sugoroku muto #katsuya jonouchi #anzu mazaki #the rest of the nerds are there but they're not in it enough that i feel like tagging them #the real hanukkah miracle is yugi integrating his two incompatible friend groups #hnak vs ygo #hnak vs writing

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deejadabbles · 4 years ago

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A Thousand Songs (Atem/Yami x Reader)

Chapter Four: Enemy

One /// Two /// Three /// Four /// Five /// (Six coming soon) ///

Summary: You knew that you and your band could make it big. Not only that, but stay together while doing it; the five of you were family, after all. The only problem was that despite all your musical talents...none of you were particularly good at lyrics. After years of struggling to put out your first full album, the solution finally made himself know in chance meeting on an empty stage.

Rock Band AU, Atem x Reader, gender neutral reader.

Yugi was practically bouncing on his feet, not deterred in the slightest by the skepticism coloring the faces of his bandmates. He just seemed so...sure of himself and his promotion of this stranger.

“I know he didn’t come to us,” Yugi continued his pitch, like a boy presenting his parents with a list of benefits in getting a puppy, “but you guys, I really think we’ll like him. If his other songs are anything like the one I heard him sing last night, then not only are they just our style- but they’re really really good too!”

“Did this guy even say if he was interested in writing for us?” Anzu asked from her usual seat in the studio.

At that, Yugi actually started to look nervous, and you noticed the way he averted his eyes, “Uh, well- see I kinda ambushed him after I heard him singing and I think I really put him on the spot with all my questions. I didn’t want him to say no on reflex, so I just gave him our card and asked him to think about it.”

You and Honda shared a look, though your friend only offered a shrug.

“So we have no idea if he’ll even say yes,” you pressed, though not unkindly, “which considering he’s probably never even heard of us or our music, means that he’s not likely to. At least not yet.”

Yugi’s eyes regained some of their hopeful gleam at your words, “So you’re willing to give him a chance?”

You shrugged, “I trust your judgment, if you say you’re hopeful for this guy, I see no reason not to meet him. But that brings us back to what we were just saying: he’s not even said he’s actually interested yet.”

“That’s no problem!” Jonouchi cut, having been Yugi’s full-hearted supporter as his boyfriend told the rest of you about his incident at the theatre. Yugi had apparently spent most of their time together last night ranting about the violinist songwriter and won Jou over by the time they went to bed (not that winning Jonouchi over had ever been hard for Yugi, one look into those big lavender eyes always ensured that Jou was wrapped around Yugi’s little finger). “See, I figure that if we give this guy a day or two to think about it, by the time we ask him about it again, we’ll be able to convince him like that !” Jou accentuated the last word with a snap of his fingers, confidence in his simple plan never wavering.

Again you and Honda shared a look, but this time it was cut off by Anzu as she looked down at her touch-screen tablet.

“What did you say his name was again?” she asked.

“Atem, didn’t get his last name though,” Yugi answered and all of you started leaning in as she tapped away at her device.

After just a moment of scrolling through something, her eyes went wide, “Woah, you guys, check this out.”

Not needing much to tip your curiosity over the edge, all of you gather behind and beside her seat, looking over her shoulder as she brought up a news article titled “19-year-old inherits fortune after father’s unexpected death”. The first picture that popped up was of a young man (who looked a bit like Yugi) being ushered towards a black car by two armed bodyguards. A crowd of pushy-looking reporters pressed in on all sides of the trio and the young man was trying to cover his face with his hand, head hung low as he avoided the cameras and mics being shoved at him.

“How’d you get his full name?” Yugi asked.

“Looked him up in the theater’s playbook,” Anzu shrugged, “but look at this article, this poor guy was in the news quite a bit a few years back.”

All of you skimmed the article, taking the tabloid-style column with a grain of salt in how they portrayed this “Atem Sennen” guy. Apparently, he had been studying music abroad when his father was killed in a car accident and returned home to find himself not only the sole inheritor of his family’s old-money fortune but the object of some nasty accusations as well.

Apparently, some thought that he had somehow orchestrated his father’s death, but given that he had actually fought a legal battle to have his illegitimate cousin recognized as a co-heir and shared the family’s fortune with him, as well as gave said cousin control of their family’s company, you highly doubted those rumors had validity. The few pictures of the young man in the article made you even more sure of that, as you could see plain as day the grief and heartache in his eyes. He looked tired and distracted in many of them, eyes red and puffy, the look in them seeming almost lost. It was the look of a boy who had just lost his father, not a patricidal sociopath.

A more fair article that Anzu flipped to next showed excerpts from the only interview that Atem himself had given about all this controversy. There he explained that his father had already put things in motion to bring this cousin into the family and was simply following his father’s wishes as well as “doing the right thing”. Atem also stated why he handed most of the control of the family business over to the cousin and only kept some well-placed investments for himself. Atem shared that he just wanted a quiet life dedicated to his music career, and stated that his cousin was far better suited to business than he was. He had plenty of money to live luxuriously for a few generations or so, and that was plenty for him it seemed.

“Sounds like the dude’s got a lot of baggage- great for a songwriter!” Honda commented eventually.

You gave a noncommittal shove on the shoulder, “Way to be sensitive, Honda….though I guess you have a point.”

“Poor Atem,” Yugi said as his eyes scanned the article and its photos, he bit his bottom lip and you could see a wet sheen coating his eyes. Yugi always had been sensitive to the plights of others. “Anzu, have you ever talked to him?” he asked.

The woman shook her head. “Not really, the ballet and orchestra don’t overlap much. I’ve seen him before though, when one crew’s packing up from practice and the other’s setting up for their show. The only reason I noticed him is because he seems like a loner, most of the band leave in pairs or groups, or at least talk to each other while they’re there, but he’s always keeping to himself and leaves last, never with anyone else.”

Yugi’s frown only deepened, “He must be so lonely…” then the sad look was replaced with an expression you knew well. It’s the Yugi look that was equal parts determination and hope. “Well then, even if he doesn’t want to join us, we should still make friends with him! He seems really shy, so we should try our best to be his friends.”

You smiled at his claim, Yugi was always eager to make a new friend and loneliness was something he had some experience with before. ...though you had to admit, you weren’t sure how this Atem guy would react to five random strangers suddenly wanting to be his friends. Oh well, it still couldn’t hurt.

Honda actually let out a laugh, “How about we take it one step at a time, Yugi, lets see if he’s even interested in the first proposal you threw at him before we throw friendship at him.”

Yugi’s cheeks flushed a little but he chuckled along with the comment. “Y-yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“So, we’ll give this guy a few days to think about it, then ask if he wants to meet the rest of the band and talk about his music?” You asked, and no one hesitated in agreeing.

***

Atem was staring out of the one-way mirror with unfocused eyes. His mind was wandering, almost lazily flicking to several thoughts all surrounding his decision when it came to The Dark Magicians. He had come to the theatre early, knowing that the ballet crew, and thus, the sound techs, would be there to set up for that evening's shows. If Yugi wasn’t working that night he was fully prepared to approach Anzu after he picked her out from the sea of dancers down on the stage.

Hence why he was waiting in the tech booth. He saw a couple of stage hands messing around on the stage, but his head was too full to recognize much else around him. He had stayed up late last night watching the band’s videos and only stopped because he went through their entire library of vlogs and music. He found the casual videos entertaining, if only because it gave him better insight into the band members.

Just as he liked the style and messages of their music, he liked the way the group of five interacted. There was usually a jovial camaraderie between them in the videos, light teasing, hearty laughter, and a supportive word were almost always present it seemed. The vlogs were everything from ‘behind the scene’ style recordings when they worked on a new music video or cover, to simple documents of the five going on adventures together. They seemed like a fun and overall positive force in Domino City, and Atem found himself almost admiring them.

Still, though he admired the more casual videos, Atem’s thoughts always went back to their songs. They may not have many, but they all had Atem entranced. The song about fighting the unrequited love stuck with him the most, and Atem found himself crafting lyrics in the back of his mind, inspired by the vulnerability of the song. The theme, vague and mercurial as it was, essentially became a sequel to the song he was so enthralled with. His song would capture the only thing that cut deeper than selfish lovers; the self-destructive nature one has when chasing a lost love.

My body may take it but my mind is weak

Why do I love becoming my own enemy?

His own heartbreak of the past fueled it a bit too, of course. How could it not? Atem may find it difficult to connect with others, but, even he craved companionship.

I will keep on waiting

For a sign from you

I don't know how my heart

Can survive without affection

But the poet inside him, perhaps softened by the gentle personas behind the band, also crafted hope in the lyrics. Your face, one he now had a name to thanks to the vlogs, kept floating to the surface of his mind along with these half-thought bars and chords.

Let me open up to you

And I will let you see

The war inside of me

Perhaps you simply spoke to him as the voice behind the songs, but when Atem thought of bearing himself and his music to the world, your face was mostly what he imagined.

I keep on playing the games of power and need

You're the only way out, I am my own enemy

Atem almost jumped, brought out of his deep thoughts by the door to the tech booth opening behind him. Yugi must have been shocked to find not that Atem had not actually needed a few days to think about his answer in aiding The Dark Magicians. Or at least, that’s what Atem assumed when he saw the opened-mouthed, wide-eyed look Yugi gave him.

“Good evening, Yugi,” he greeted, trying for a small smile and was relieved when Yugi returned the expression tenfold. “I thought about what you said last night a lot, I even looked at your band's work. I’m impressed.” Impressed wasn’t quite the word, Atem knew, but he didn’t know a better way to phrase it at the moment.

Yugi seemed to practically bounce at Atem’s words, but was obviously trying to keep calm as he said, “Really? Thank you, I’m glad you like our music. I talked with my bandmates and they’re interested in meeting you-! Ah, assuming you want to, if you still need time to think about it, that’s okay too.”

The younger man was obviously trying his best to remain respectful of Atem despite his enthusiasm, and Atem appreciated the consideration. Perhaps Yugi even felt a little guilty for ambushing him the previous night.

Still, Atem couldn’t deny the thin layer of uncomfortable nerves starting in his stomach. No matter how many videos he watched, he had to remind himself that he still did not truly know these people. The reminder that he would actually have to meet the others started to set him on edge a bit. Performing in front of a crowd? That he could do, easy. Meeting with four (five if you included Yugi) strangers in a more intimate, face-to-face setting? It almost made him want to back out completely.

“I made my decision last night,” Atem answered, pressing onward in spite of the nerves climbing in his stomach, “I’m willing to meet with you and the others to talk about the idea. I won’t guarantee anything, but, I will admit that I’m interested in writing for your band. After seeing your work, I think it’s at least safe to say that our styles are similar.”

“That’s great! I’m so happy you think so too because I knew it the moment I heard your song last night!” Again, Yugi seemed to pull back, reining in his enthusiasm with a literal bite on his tongue. He then let out a small chuckle, “Sorry, I’m just excited, we’ve all been feeling pretty stuck lately, and- I don’t know, I just have a good feeling about you joining our team.” Then, something flashed in the young man’s eyes, something set and determined. “But don’t worry, we’ll take it one step at a time. What days are you free to meet everyone?”

“I could do Saturday afternoon, if that’s alright for your band.”

Yugi took a moment to think, but almost immediately nodded. “That should work out great!” Without wasting a beat, Yugi darted to the desk beside the control panel and grabbed a pen and a sticky note. “Here’s the address to our studio, we can meet up there. Oh! And my phone number in case you need to contact us.”

He folded the sticky note over and passed it to Atem, who simply nodded at him. “Thank you, Yugi, I guess I’ll see you and the others on Saturday.” He gave the other man another smile before taking his leave, anything else that needed to be discussed could wait until the weekend. Besides, Yugi actually did have to get to work.

As Atem walked down the red carpet between the theatre seats, on his way to the employee entrance, he took a glance at the ballerinas on the stage. His eyes instantly picked out Anzu, but what surprised him was that she was already looking his way as well. Whether she knew he was the ghostwriter Yugi talked to them about or not, Atem didn’t know. Still, she flashed him a smile and a little wave as he passed and Atem found himself returning the gestures instantly.

Despite any shy nerves, Atem had a good feeling about this.

#yami x reader #atem x reader #yugioh x reader #band AU #Atem #yami yugi #series: a thousand songs #ygo

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weebrecs · 5 years ago

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Recommended Romance Anime Part 2

Hi Everyone, Someone messaged me asking for straight romance anime recommendations. I already made one list here: (https://weebrecs.tumblr.com/post/157666048002/recommended-romance-anime) and I have included more below. The ones with the *** are movies. I hope you enjoy!!

Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun (9/10) Chiyo is the definition of adorable and loveable, at least for everyone except for the person that she likes. Nozaki is oblivious to the world around him and most of all Chiyo’s interest in him. However, Nozaki’s distance is due to him actually being a respectable shoujo mangaka. In her efforts to win his heart Chiyo finds herself acting as Nozaki’s assistant. Together they undergo hilarious situations and act out possible scenarios for Nozaki’s manga. Nozaki asks Chiyo to help him with brainstorming situations for his romance manga and Chiyo swoons just like the protagonist of the manga, and Nozaki starts wondering where the manga ends and true love begins. It is a great show to watch and has interesting character development as Chiyo goes from a girl that has a simple crush to a girl with real reason and purpose. Romance, Comedy, Slice of Life, School Life

Lovely Complex (8/10) If you love height differences then this is the show for you. Meet Koizumi who is much taller than the average girl and Ootani who is much shorter than the average guy. They are known as a Comedy Duo and they are constantly play tricks or making gags at the other’s expense. However, they soon learn that they have more in common then they first realized when their crushes end up falling for each other. Then as soon as they both start to realize that they might be falling for each other too the question of their mismatched heights comes up. Romance, Comedy, Height difference

Ouran High School Host Club (8/10) Haruhi is an insanely bright and gifted girl that just wants some peace and quiet. She sneaks into a music room to get alone and stumbles into the school’s host club. Frantically she tries to remove herself from the situation and shatters an expensive vase. Since she’s a scholarship student without a lot of money she doesn’t know how she’ll pay to replace the vase. However, the host club has an option for her. Join Haruhi as she meets a delight cast of male hosts that slowly find themselves changing due to Haruhi’s influence. Haruhi starts to learn about life outside of books and the boys learn to love someone. I love how relaxed this show is at times and how crazy the characters and situations are. Romance, Comedy, Slice of Life, School Life

Skip Beat (9/10) Kyouko is willing to bend over backwards to help her childhood friend, Shou, in his dreams of becoming famous. Out of the goodness of her heart she helps him basically live his life. She thinks that they are perfect together then everything changes when she over hears him telling someone that Kyouko is like is his servant. Furious Kyouko stops supporting him and decides that if she built him to become a famous celebrity then she could do it for herself too. As she grows she meets someone that can help her not only gain her revenge on Shou but someone that might actually treat her right. This is an encouraging love story that shows that people that love you can bring out the best in you Romance, Comedy, Show Business, Revenge

Akagami no Shirayuki-hime (8/10) This is a modern retelling of Snow White, but this time with a twist: she has red hair. There are two season of this anime and if you love romance animes with a dash of adventure you’ll love this one. Shirayuki is a skilled herbalist who is noticed by a prince. Terrified that she’ll live a kept life she escapes and is rescued by Zen (who is adorable and perfect…goodness I love him!). Zen brings her to his castle and their life begins. Slowly friendship turns into romance. Romance, Adventure

Akatsuki no Yona (9/10) When I first read the synopsis of this I thought it was going to be one of those off animes that wouldn’t win me over, but I was wrong. This show introduces Yona who is the princess of a well off kingdom, but when the King is betrayed by Yona’s cousin Yona must act swiftly. She escapes danger with her bodyguard Hak (I think you mean Hunk—sorry lol). Together they team up to save Yona’s kingdom. Action, Adventure, Reverse Harem, Romance

Ao Haru Ride (8/10) After risking everything for a boy she met in a rain shelter, Futaba is ready to turn her life around in high school. She is determined to have friends and be liked by everyone. Her plan is foolproof until the boy she met returns and so do her feelings for him. However, he is different from the boy that had betrayed Futaba in the past. Together they need to learn more about themselves and each other. This show is emotional and shows the sacrifices we all make for those we love. School Life, Blooming Romance

Fruits Basket (9/10) This show has recently been rebooted and is expecting a second season. It tells the story of Honda who has lost her mother in an accident and goes to live with her grandfather. However, as renovations are being done at her house she lies to her grandfather and tells him that she’s going to live with a friend. When she is actually pitching a tent in the woods. The esteemed Souma family actually owns the woods that Honda hides in and the prince of the school Yuki Souma invites Honda to stay in his house, but the Souma’s have a secret. They are possessed by the Chinese Zodiac spirits, and will turn into their respective animals if they’re hugged by the opposite gender. This series is adorable and super fun to watch. The characters are all special in their own way. Comedy, Zodiac, Mystery, School Life, Supernatural, Romance

***Hotarubi no Mori e (10/10) I love this movie it is so beautiful. Hotaru has been fond of the mysterious tale of the mountain god since she was six and after she loses her way in the mountain forest, she stumbles into a masked spirit named Gin. Together they begin their unlikely friendship. Gin informs Hotaru that they can play together as long as she doesn’t get too close. They start to spend every summer together and Hotaru helps Gin learn what is means to be human and love someone. Soon they find that the distance that they are keeping between them is slowly shrinking. This movie is epically beautiful, romantic, and heart wrenching. Spirit, Supernatural, Romance

Ore Monogatari!! (10/10) Are you sick of the romance animes filled with beautiful girls and handsome princes? Well then it’s time to watch Ore Monogatari staring an unlikely anime pairing: Takeo Gouda and Rinko Yamato. Yamato is the definition of adorable and angelic; while Takeo struggles with love due to his tall and muscular build. Takeo’s appearance might be a little rough, but under it all he has a heart of gold. However, few ever see it since Takeo’s best friend Makoto is the definition of an anime prince. Without trying Makoto is a girl magnet and Takeo finds that people only talk to him to try and get close with Makoto. But when Takeo saves Yamato he instantly falls for her. He worries that she’s only being nice to him to gain Makoto’s love, but in truth she actually like Takeo and not Makoto. I love how this shakes up the romance genre and I love Makoto and Takeo’s friendship. Every time Yamato is on the screen I swoon. She is precious! Comedy, Friendship, Romance, First Love, Dorks

Your Lie in April (10/10) This is one of those romance animes that you hear rumors about. You know it will hurt you, but you have to watch it anyway because it’s a masterpiece. It is a truly enjoyable watch! Plus, the animation is breathtaking. Kousei is a great piano player and under the tutelage of his mother he excels in the competitions. Then his mother dies and Kousei turns from music and his world begins to turn grey. Until his world us turned upside down by Kaori, an outstanding violinist who is anything but traditional. She is free-spirited and challenges Kousei to join her in exploring music once more. Kousei starts to fall in love with music again and also finds himself falling for the girl that added color back into his world. Together they enhance each other’s musical ability and change each other’s lives. Music, Romance, Mystery, Friendship, School Life

***Toki wo Kakeru Shoujo (10/10) The last year is difficult for everyone, but for Makoto it is crazy since she can literally jump through time. She doesn’t really understand this new-found power and must learn how to control it. She fosters old and new relationships and might even fall in love, but with all time travel sacrifices must be made. I really don’t want to say too much because it could ruin the plot, but just trust me—watch it. Mystery, Supernatural, Time Travel, Romance

#anime recommendation #Romance anime #your lie in april #gekkan shoujo nozaki kun #Lovely Complex #ouran high school host club #skip beat #akagami no shirayukihime #Ao Haru Ride #Fruits Basket #Hotarubi no Mori e #ore monogatari #the girl who leapt through time

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retvenkos · 4 years ago

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in the back seat | a.c.

National Treasure - Abigail Chase x Reader, fluff requested by @the-radio-star

tw: none

word count: 1.5k

prompt: “keep talking, I want to fall asleep to your voice.”

A/N: don’t mind me, i’m just manifesting national treasure 3. one of these days, my prayers will be answered.

Summary: When the group is back on the road again, chasing after whatever is on page 47, (Y/n) is more restless than usual. Luckily, Abigail is there to make car rides bearable.

If there was one thing you had learned, being an old friend of Ben Gates, it was that long car rides were terrible for your back.

You couldn't remember exactly when Ben turned into the daring-escape-in-an-uncomfortable-vehicle type — you supposed it probably had something to do with him basing his entire life goal on an Indiana Jones level family legend — but for as long as you knew him, that was the gig. Being friends with Ben Gates meant acquiring odd, often illegal talents while going on treasure hunts, solving age-old mysteries from the back of old Cadillac Devilles and beat up Chevy Vans. Needless to say, when your back gives out, you'll stick Ben with the bill. It can be a little parting gift, one final way that Ben can support your eccentric skillset and peculiar taste in vocation.

"You know, you'd think we'd get a decent car for missions like these," you complained from the back of yet another incredibly cramped car - an old Honda Civic that looked like it belonged in the year 2000. You, Ben, Riley, and Abigail were going cross country again, following some lead on whatever the hell was on page 47 of the Book of Secrets (Riley still wouldn't tell you, damn him), and as always, you had to mention their choice of ride.

"If we got something halfway decent, the whole world would know we're doing something, again," Ben deadpanned, looking at you from the rearview mirror. You sunk lower into the unforgiving seats to avoid his gaze.

"Easy for you say - you always get to drive. If you were stuck back here, you'd understand."

"Well, Ben is the one calling the shots," Riley said through a grin, reveling in the joy of stealing the passenger's seat. Usually, he was relegated to the backseat alongside you, but this time he had been intent on calling shotgun, claiming that this treasure hunt was his. He had been babbling about the Book of Secrets all day long, and you were certain that his voice was the only reason that Ben was still awake, this late at night. Without his grating tones, all of you would be fast asleep.

Riley turned to you, wriggling in his seatbelt so he could see you out of the corner of his bespeckled eye. "Besides, (Y/n), Ben deserves the legroom."

You kicked the back of Riley's seat, earning an indignant "hey!"

"Oh, sorry, Riley, there's just not much legroom back here. Do you think I deserve some?"

Riley muttered under his breath and turned around. You opened your mouth to build on the momentum you'd already gained, but Abigail cut you off.

"You'll get some soon enough," she scoffed, immediately decreasing the tension in your confined space. You turned to look at her and saw that she was smiling, legs tucked to her side and eyes looking out the window, watching the streaks of color pass - white lights and neons bleeding into each other, stark against the dark of night. The colors played against her expression, almost making her eyes dance. "We'll have to stop at some point, and then we can push Riley and Ben into the back."

"But this is my mission!"

"I'm pretty sure the president told me to look at the page."

"Not everything is about you, Ben."

You rolled your eyes at your idiotic friends in the front seats, and Abigail caught your eye. The two of you laughed softly, just barely audible over their arguing.

"How are you at all comfortable back here?" You shifted in your seat, pushing your back to the car door and pulling your knees to your chest, ignoring Riley's condemnation of your refusal to wear a seatbelt. You scoffed and looked at Abigail with a wonder that almost bordered on exasperation. For having mocked your treasure hunting lifestyle when the two of you first met, she sure was comfortable in it. Even on day one, Abigail had managed to fall in step with the rest of you, as though she had belonged at your side all along.

Even in the most irritating of situations, Abigail looked at home when she was traversing the world with the rest of you, and she fell into her role very well. It was Abigail who talked Ben down from his more insane ideas. It was Abigail who stopped you from throttling Riley when he blasted Britney Spears' "Toxic" when you were in the middle of a car chase. It was Abigail who always knew what to say to boost Riley's confidence. And it was always Abigail who knew some clever bit of knowledge that would save you in your hunt for treasure.

She was like the glue that held your group together. Without her, you would have killed Riley long ago, and Ben would be creating international scandals of epic proportions - his offenses so terrible that not even his friend, the President of the United States, could save him. Even with Abigail, all of you should have been in prison for life, a couple times over. You couldn't imagine what the fallout would have been without her.

It was staggering, really, how you managed to get so lucky as to find her.

"I'm not at all comfortable," Abigail replied, and there it was - that conspiratorial sort of smile that never failed to take your breath away, filling you with a warmth that made all of the insanity worthwhile. It was rare to see such an expression in a moment like this - Abigail usually reserved smiles like that for victories, those little wins that the four of you got when solving riddles and outsmarting your enemies. It was nice to see it in the back of a shoddy, four-door compact car that you were certain would be the death of you.

"Then are you regretting your decision to stick with us?"

"Not for a minute."

You scoffed, tucking your head into your chest. Abigail tapped her pen against your legs, still jotting down notes by the half-light that filtered through the window. You allowed yourself a smile that she couldn't see, and Abigail made some remark that your current position had to be even more uncomfortable than you last.

You hummed, feeling exhaustion settle into your bones - just not enough for you to drift off to sleep. "Why did you decide to stick around, anyway? It's not like Ben makes it any fun."

You heard a scoff from the front seat at your comment, but you were listening for Abigail, and her voice was the only one you cared about hearing.

"Is it not enough for me to say that I want to make sure you don't steal the Declaration of Independence again?"

"Not nearly."

"Then I'm a good samaritan, making sure you don't do irrevocable damage to important historical artifacts and holy lands," Abigail said, and you could hear the smile in her voice, reflected in the care with which she spoke each word. You smiled and closed your eyes. As long as Abigail was here to keep you company, maybe long car rides weren't so bad.

"And?" you mumbled, prodding for her to continue to speak - if only so you could hear the sounds of her voice, gentle but strong, intelligent but soft.

You heard her chuckle and imagined the way her lips curved. "And I stick around because I like all of you, despite everything, and I want to make sure you find the treasure with minimal casualties. Besides, you need me. Can you imagine trying to solve riddles without me? You'd be lost."

"Actually, we were faring quite well on our own before you complicated things with the Declaration," Ben interjected, his self-important voice souring your mood.

"Oh, and you think you would have been able to pull the rest of it off without me?"

"Yes, actually. You underestimate us."

"Oh, shut up, Ben." You rolled your eyes, and Riley let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. "We all know about your eight Ph.D.'s in history. I want to listen to Abigail." You shuffled in your seat one last time, finding the most comfortable position you could find. "Keep talking, I want to fall asleep to your voice."

It was dark in the back seat, but you saw the surprise on Abigail's face, and maybe you were already dreaming, but you swore that her cheeks flooded with a blush. Her stunned expression soon disappeared, though, and gave way to a smile.

"Alright, I can think of a story or two to tell."

"Perfect."

"Gross," Riley spoke up from the front seat, the teasing in his voice laid on thick, "get a room, you two."

You kicked the back of his seat, and Riley yelped. The car erupted with comfortable chuckles.

-- taglist: @fangirlings-things // message me if you want to be added!

#national treasure #abigail chase #abigail chase x reader #abigail chase x you #abigail chase imagine #national treasure abigail #reader insert #imagine #gender neutral reader #national treasure imagine #fluff

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agirlinsearchof · 4 years ago

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Ryou Bakura!

All right, another double meme special, coming up!

A: Bakura’s family (or at least his father) traveled a lot. As such, he lived in England at one point. In the dubverse, this leads to him having a British accent. He doesn’t have one in the mangaverse or the Japanese version, however, because he learned English in Japan in those versions.

B: Bakura read Twilight once, just to see what all the fuss was about. He was very disappointed in the lack of intentional spook.

C: Bakura has been isolated since childhood because of the spirit of the Millennium Ring. Lots of girls liking him, ironically, makes this worse because he knows they like him for his looks, meaning that he sometimes feels that people won’t like him for his personality.

D: Bakura, after the Ceremonial Duel but before DSOD, takes to contact lenses and dying his hair, taking advantage of how pale it is to dye it pretty much any color he wants. This is why he has white hair and blue/brown eyes (depending on whether you follow the manga or the anime) before DSOD, and during it he has pale blue hair and red eyes.

First impression: Cute boy. Sweet boy. Best boy.

Impression now: Cute boy. Sweet boy. Spooky boy. Best boy.

Favorite moment: Probably when he stood up to Yami Bakura at the end of the Monster World arc. I think it should have been called back to in the Memory World arc in some way, like knowing beforehand what’ll happen and subtly messing with the game to make it easier for Atem to win.

Idea for a story: Probably a one-shot focusing on Bakura messing with the Memory World RPG.

Unpopular opinion: Any kind of direct interaction between him and Yami Bakura just seems... highly implausible??? T*ndershipping is shockingly popular for a pairing where the two get like, two conversations that were both cut in the anime. Even the fics that show it as the toxic relationship it would be are improbable, in my opinion.

Favorite relationship: Probably with Honda! There was potential there that wasn’t quite explored! It’s neat how Honda was able to notice when something’s up with Bakura, which I think should have kicked in and been important later on! Bakura, for his part, really seemed to gravitate towards Honda more than the others, probably because they’re the quieter members of the group, so Bakura doesn’t feel as overwhelmed around him as with the others.

Favorite headcanon: Boy loves his horror fiction. The good, the bad, and the cheesy. This surprises a lot of people. He’ll even sometimes mess with Jounouchi about this. He’s surprisingly a bit mischievous, if you get him out of his shell enough!

#yugioh #yugioh dm #ryou bakura #yami bakura #hiroto honda #katsuya jounouchi #headcanon #asks

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

Tree House Kisses, Chapter 38 (Adorney) - Scorpio and Veronica

A/N: Click here for previous chapters. And thank you so much to @saiphl for the beta help!! XO!

Chapter Summary: The girls spend a summer apart, but then start their senior year, closer than ever.

Chapter 38: Feelings

Courtney’s dad had moved with his girlfriend to Berkeley earlier in the year, and both of her parents unilaterally decided that she should spend the summer with him for some “quality time.” She’d argued, she’d protested, she’d pleaded with Karen, she’d even cried; but in the end she had no choice but to go along with the plan, sullenly packing her things and boarding the train, defeated. Her only solace was that Roy was doing a summer program in Stanford for a month, which meant that at least they could still see each other on the weekends for part of the time she was there.

COURTNEY: JFC I’m gonna be sleeping on a goddamn fold out couch all summer. This is shit.

ADORE: Awww, so sorry, princess. Xx

COURTNEY: Lol, fuck you. You have no idea what this is like

ADORE: That’s true. I haven’t seen my dad for like ten years

COURTNEY: WAH WAH WAHHH YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO WIN

COURTNEY: ;)

ADORE: lol

The truth was, Courtney hadn’t really spent much time with her dad since the divorce. Sometimes it made her sad, thinking about how close they used to be. She tried to keep an open mind, but a big part of her was still angry about him having an affair, turning their lives upside-down, leaving her mom...leaving her.

Adore was right, though. As far as absentee fathers went, things could be much worse. One night, while he sat on the sofa (the one that doubled as the least comfortable bed she ever had) watching TV, Courtney wandered over and sat down next to him.

He looked up from the TV, surprised, a smile spreading across his face.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“Hi.” Courtney shifted slightly, tried to shake the horrible feeling that she was sitting next to a grown man that she barely knew. “Whatcha watching?”

“Just the news...if things go well this year, we can take both the house and the senate,” Peter told her. “And in 2008, that fucking shit-for-brains will finally be done and we can get the White House, too.”

“That would be awesome,” Courtney agreed, letting her head rest on her father’s shoulder. He wasn’t perfect, that was for damn sure...but when it came down to it, she supposed she was lucky to have him.

Meanwhile, Adore had gotten a summer job as a counselor at an arts day camp, and soon began spending her days surrounded by loud, attention-seeking child star wannabes. Every day, she came home and collapsed in exhaustion, vowing to never, under any circumstances, ever have children.

COURTNEY: How’s camp?

ADORE: The worst

COURTNEY: I’m sorry

ADORE: It’s all good. How’s the homewrecker?

COURTNEY: Weird

ADORE: Is she teaching you any good stripper moves?

COURTNEY: No, she just like, chain smokes and talks to her birds

ADORE: She has BIRDS?

COURTNEY: Yeah man, I told you. WEIRD

ADORE: What are the birds’ names?

COURTNEY: Something in Russian, I dunno. I just call them Boris and Natasha

ADORE: Lol you’re so corny

COURTNEY: I did meet some pretty cool anarchist guys down the block

ADORE: What’s their band called?

COURTNEY: Who said they have a band?

ADORE: What’s their band called, Courtney?

COURTNEY: Pussy Whisper

ADORE: LOLOLOLOL

COURTNEY: Okay, so...this is going to shock you…

ADORE: ???

COURTNEY: The Pussy Whisper dudes?

ADORE: Oh jeez, what?

COURTNEY: They’re gross

ADORE: Yeah, no shit

COURTNEY: i just really liked what Tristan had to say about late stage capitalism

ADORE: Right

COURTNEY: And Grant said I was smart

ADORE: Well, that was your first clue

COURTNEY: HEY!!!

ADORE: Lol, not because you’re not. Because dudes in a band called “Pussy Whisper” that call you smart are up to some no-good shit

COURTNEY: Right. Ugh

ADORE: Bird lady still a fucking weirdo?

COURTNEY: Yeah. Although she did take me to a yoga class this morning, so that was nice. She’s actually maybe not the most vile person on the planet

ADORE: Awww, look at you, falling in love

COURTNEY: Shut up

Once Courtney got over her initial resistance, she had to admit that Berkely was somewhat cool. Certainly more her speed than the bland suburban wasteland she was used to. She spent most of her days wandering around used book stores, head shops, or combing through racks of cute vintage dresses. One afternoon, sunbathing in the backyard of her dad’s apartment building (which was a converted Victorian house that she also had to regretfully admit was pretty charming), she made friends with a very affectionate marmalade-colored kitten. Turned out, the cat belonged to their downstairs neighbor, and soon Courtney found herself fully enchanted with the older woman.

COURTNEY: Okay I found a much better new friend than the PW boys. She’s our downstairs neighbor and she’s like 70 and so cool. She has pink hair and all her clothes are made of hemp. She’s gonna take me to an Iraq War protest on Saturday.

ADORE: Oh jeez. You’re gonna come back with white person dreads, aren’t you?

COURTNEY: lol it’s a nice look

ADORE: IT IS NOT

ADORE: Abortion should be legal until the kids are like...12 years old, at least

COURTNEY: Campers getting on your nerves?

ADORE: If I snap, will you visit me in prison?

COURTNEY: Of course! I’ll bake a nail file into a cake for you and everything. XOXO

ADORE: Good cake or some bay area bullshit?

COURTNEY: Gluten free agave-sweetened carob cake, courtesy of Patsy

ADORE: Fuck off

COURTNEY: Don’t insult Patsy. She’s been protesting since Vietnam, she’s awesome.

ADORE: HEY CHEERLEADER THIS IS WILLAM! YOU’RE A SLUT AND WE MISS YOU!

ADORE: AND I’M VERY DISAPPOINTED THAT YOU DIDN’T FUCK THE PUSSY WHISPERERS

COURTNEY: Sorry bunny

ADORE: He’s high

COURTNEY: And you?

ADORE: Meeee? Whaaaaaat?

ADORE: Yes lol

COURTNEY: Lol, have fun

COURTNEY: Would it be really bad if I liked Katya?

ADORE: Omg are you gonna start calling her Mommy?

COURTNEY: Shut up!

COURTNEY: But seriously...it would be like, disloyal to my mom if I liked her, right?

ADORE: Are you gonna start adopting birds?

COURTNEY: No, I just think she’s kind of funny sometimes. I’m a terrible daughter

ADORE: Well, your mom IS the one who sent you up there for the summer. So…

COURTNEY: True

ADORE: So. Something happened last night that was...uh…

ADORE: Very

ADORE: ...

COURTNEY: ???

ADORE: Give me a minute...I’m processing...

COURTNEY: Tell me!

ADORE: Well, we started in Violet’s basement, drinking, and I’m not sure how but somehow it ended up being like 10 people

COURTNEY: Aww, was Violet sad I wasn’t there? Did she cry?

ADORE: lol, totally

COURTNEY: So what happened???

ADORE: Yeah, so...I went out to the backyard to smoke and Trin came and like...I’m not sure exactly how it happened, but I think I made out with her

COURTNEY: WHOA

ADORE: Yeah

COURTNEY: Is she gay???

ADORE: No, definitely not. We were just like, drunk and high

COURTNEY: Is everything cool between you??

ADORE: Yeah, I think so. We were laughing about it this morning. But like, I still feel a little bad.

COURTNEY: Why do you feel bad?

ADORE: I mean, I dunno. I don’t want people to think that I’m like, some predatory asshole, you know?

COURTNEY: No one would think that

ADORE: My track record might disagree

COURTNEY: The only thing your track record shows is you’re a ho

ADORE: WOW

COURTNEY: I WAS KIDDING!!!!

ADORE: lol, I know

COURTNEY: XOXOXOXO

As much as Courtney tried, and as much as she made her peace with her summer surroundings, by the time August rolled around, she began to get increasingly homesick. Missing her mom, her bedroom, even Grandma Muriel. But especially, missing Adore.

COURTNEY: I really miss you

COURTNEY: Like so much

ADORE: Me too

COURTNEY: No like SO much

ADORE: Are you high?

COURTNEY: No, are you?

ADORE: A little lol

COURTNEY: I’m not high. I just love you.

ADORE: Aww, thanks babe

“DORY!!” Courtney squealed, practically leaping from her car the second she pulled into the driveway. She’d texted Adore from her last stop for gas, but she was thrilled to see her best friend actually waiting for her.

She wrapped Adore into a tight hug, her excitement causing her to pepper Adore’s entire face with wet kisses.

“Hi, okay, stop it,” Adore giggled. “Nice car, by the way.”

“Oh yeah, I know, it’s pretty great. Peter gets a gold star for that one.” Courtney glanced back at the car, her dad’s old Honda Accord, shaking her new bangs out of her face. He’d surprised her with the keys just last week, and it had almost made her forgive him for leaving in the first place...almost. “It was kind of scary to do that whole drive alone, though. I’m very thankful to have made it in one piece.”

“Me too,” Adore said, with a grin that told Courtney she was home. “Now that you’re back, it’s gonna be a fuckin’ party.”

Courtney laid a head on her shoulder, sighing happily.

“You’re going to Darienne’s goodbye party on Wednesday, right?”

“Yeah, of course. Omigod! Dory! I wanted to make those peanut butter cupcakes that she loves, but you know I’m just absolute shit at decorating, can you help?”

“What on earth makes you think I’d be good at cupcake decorating?” Adore laughed.

“I dunno, you’re better at art than me,” Courtney said. “Plus, it’ll just be more fun with you.”

Adore pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Count me in.”

School was going to be starting back up soon, and as Adore looked around the party at her friends, she couldn’t help but feel a little ambivalent. Summer had just been so nice, and having that small taste of freedom made her long to be done with school altogether.

Tonight, there was a big group at Pearl’s house--her usual friends as well as a bunch of the neighborhood kids, enjoying the pool and the warm evening air. Violet, Fame and Trinity lounged in the hot tub with April, watching the sun set. Pearl was standing at the grill, living her butch fantasy as she cooked up food for her guests, swatting Bob away with as he peered over her shoulder, trying to “help.”

It was a little bittersweet--Darienne had already left for Pepperdine a few weeks earlier, and Jamin for Cal Poly. Even though they weren’t as close as they used to be, it still felt strange, somehow, for them to be missing. Hell, it was even weird for Alyssa to be gone, the loudmouth head cheerleader now torturing people at UC San Diego, probably already sorority president.

A handful of people were dancing, including Courtney and Willam, twirling until they were dizzy and laughing.

“Ugh, I don’t want school to start!” Willam suddenly whined, reflecting Adore’s feelings exactly.

“I know, but this year we’re coming back as seniors, and we’re gonna rule the school,” Courtney said, imitating the line from Grease perfectly.

“Oh really? You think you’re Rizzo?” Adore challenged her.

“Why can’t I be Rizzo?” she demanded.

“Bitch, you are Sandy and you know it,” Adore laughed, grabbing a beer and sitting down on the back steps.

“I can be Rizzo if I want! Fuck you!”

“Yeah, lesbian! How dare you put cheerleader in a box! She can be whatever she wants!” Willam cried.

“That's right,” Courtney added, “I mean, I did spend all summer hanging out with a prostitute. What did you do? Day Camp?”

“I was a counselor,” Adore replied, laughing. She reached into the cooler and pulled out a bottle. “Here, have another drink. And I thought Katya was a stripper, not a prostitute.”

“You don't know her. It's a very blurry line,” Courtney explained, taking the offered wine cooler.

Willam grabbed Courtney’s hand and pulled her away, spinning her around and around. “Less talking, more dancing!”

Adore shook her head, watching them with a smile, lighting up a joint. Roy sat down beside her--the last of his class, since UCLA didn’t start for a few more weeks.

“Hey, Delano. How ya doing, man?”

“Good...bro.”

Roy flashed some dimples at her, then just sat for a minute, unusually quiet, as they both watched their friends dancing like fools. Willam dipped Courtney low to the ground and she shrieked and giggled.

“God, she’s so fucking beautiful,” he said.

Adore wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or himself. She nodded, leaning against the banister and sighing slightly.

When Roy spoke again, it was quiet. “I know, you know. How lucky I am.”

Adore looked at him, considering her reply. Finally, she just nodded and said, “Good.”

Roy gave her another smile.

“Make sure she stays outta trouble while I’m away.”

“I think I’m probably the least qualified person for that job,” Adore laughed, then held out the joint.

“Thanks, I’m cool.”

“Debatable,” Adore retorted, taking another hit.

Roy shook his head, chuckling.

“I’m gonna miss you too, Delano.”

“Aww...shut up.”

On the first day of their senior year, Courtney and Adore walked out of their fourth period economics class together, giggling over Laganja’s unfortunate new haircut.

“I feel bad for saying so, but it’s just so...”

“Hideous?” Adore supplied, and Courtney giggled some more.

“Yeah. Poor thing. Although it’s hard to say whether her hair is more or less tragic than Mr. Sutton’s awkwardness. He’s like a baby deer.”

“I know! But like, imagine trying to get the respect of students who are pretty much your age,” Adore laughed.

“How old do you think he is, anyway?”

“Uh, I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure he graduated with Kim and Angie. I think I remember him from when Angie did show choir.”

Courtney grabbed onto Adore’s arm, eyes wide.

“Omigod, you’re right! I knew he looked familiar!” she exclaimed.

It wasn’t until they were halfway down the hill that Adore noticed Courtney still walking with her. She hadn’t split off to go sit with the neighborhood kids like past years, simply walked beside her towards the oak tree, where Trinity and Willam already sat, sword-fighting with breadsticks.

“Are you...planning to join us?” Adore asked curiously, and Courtney bit her lip.

“Is that okay? I mean...it’s just a little weird without Roy and Darienne, so I thought…you can say no if-”

“Of course it’s okay!” Adore pulled her in for a side hug. “Everyone loves you, you know that.”

“Everyone?” Courtney asked, one eyebrow nearly to her hairline.

“Almost everyone.” Adore smiled ruefully. “And anyway, I want you here, so she can just deal with it.”

As it turned out, Adore was right. Everyone welcomed Courtney enthusiastically with open arms. And even Violet was unusually cool about it, containing her disapproval to some muttered asides to Fame, who promptly thumped her on the shoulder every time, akin to bopping a puppy on the nose with a newspaper.

Courtney didn’t seem to mind either way, cheerfully trading barbs with Willam and letting Fame “fix” her eyebrows, which were deemed “just too pale.”

“Are your pubes blonde, too?” Willam asked curiously, and Trinity began choking on her sandwich from laughter.

“Gross,” Courtney said, wrinkling her nose.

“Actually, are they? I’m kind of curious,” Trinity said.

“Come on, cheerleader, just tell us!” Willam urged.

“You know, I quit cheerleading almost a year ago,” Courtney said.

“So?”

“He still calls me ‘New Girl,’” Pearl explained.

“Why are you stalling? Show! Me! Your! Pussy! Hairs!” Willam said, and Fame put her whole head in her hands, letting out a horrified groan before going back to Courtney’s eyebrows.

“Careful, Bill, or you might get what you wish for,” Courtney sang, staring him down. “You really wanna see my pussy?”

“Uhh...no. Well, maybe...but no. Or…” Willam’s brow furrowed.

“Shit, you broke his little gay brain,” Pearl said, laughing.

“Omigod, that’s so much better!” Fame sat back on her heels, holding up a compact so that Courtney could see her new defined eyebrows.

“Oh wow, that is better! Thank you!”

After snapping the compact shut and handing it back to Fame, Courtney caught Adore’s eye, both of their faces melting into a grin. As Adore buried her smile into her sandwich, she couldn’t help but think about what a change it was from last year.

Maybe a sign of good things to come...or maybe the calm before the storm.

#rpdr fanfiction #tree house kisses #scorpio #veronica #adorney #adore delano #courtney act #bianca del rio #bitney #willam belli #miss fame #lesbian au #high school au #angst #fluff

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exo-can · 4 years ago

Text

Growing Pains: Send My Love (To Your New Lover)

A collection inspired by Adele’s album 25

A/N: Sooo, it’s been a while lmao.

Please note that this is part of a series, although this chapter has enough in it that you can infer what is going on so it can be read by itself.

Previous Chapters:

When We Were Young (Smut)

I Miss You (semi-smut)

River Lea(Smut)

Warnings: Smut (like a lot yo. Probably the filthiest thing i’ve written ok.) , cursing, choking, hairpulling, Yoongi is not happy about your confession but has emotional constipation so chooses to take it out in ~other~ ways

Sunlight casts it’s warm glow over you, body growing hot under the mountain of blankets you'd haphazardly thrown over yourself late last night. You don’t move though, letting the rays of light burn against your eyelids as you bask in the afterglow of sleep. That is, until you felt the slickness of sweat in the crevices of your form. Sighing lightly, you shift on the couch and feel the heaviness begin to fade from your limbs as stiffness takes its place. The apartment is quiet, the city too. That magical sunday haze always makes it seem like the world is running at half-pace, if only for a few hours in the morning. Slowly, you crack your eyes open just enough to catch a glimpse of the clock hanging on the wall above your tv. 11:14… you note silently. Woojin must have left for work without waking me.

And just like that, your calm morning is gone, spirited away by a fresh wave of emotions that you can no longer chalk up as only guilt. A second sigh escapes you, though this one was much heavier than the first. Pushing the blankets away from your body, you sit upright on the couch. Rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes, you straighten the crumpled outfit which you’d never bothered to change out of last night. Spotting your phone on the coffee table, you pick it up with a yawn and tap the screen to life. A couple emails, some notifications from various social media platforms and one text that makes a soft smile curl your lips upward without your knowledge.

Yoongi 4:38am

Did you get back okay? You could've stayed you know.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"It's me." the words had sounded timid as they'd left your mouth, even by your own ears.

“I know.” He didn't sound surprised, which irked you. You knew what he said on the roof, but a part of you still worried that this was a game to him. A game in which he knew he was currently holding the winning hand. “Caller I.D."

“Right.” A faint heat bloomed on your cheeks as the elevator doors gave a soft ‘ding’ and opened to the apartment buildings lobby. Plopping yourself down on one of the plush leather chairs, you fiddled anxiously with the sleeve of your oversized jacket. A dim crackle of radio silence echoed across the speaker, not quite sure what to say now that you’d actually dialed his number. You tried though, a feeble “I-” making it’s way up from your vocal cords before the line went quiet again.

Thankfully, Yoongi was the first to break the tension. “Do you want to come by? I would’ve offered at Luna’s but…”

“No, I’m glad you didn’t. I’d rather not broadcast what we’re up to to them.” You answered honestly. It wasn’t that you didn’t love and trust your friends. It was just that it was much harder to explain what you were doing when you yourself didn’t even really know. “But yeah, I would… if that’s okay.”

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want you to, Y/N.” Yoongi reassured you, making your insides twirl. “I can come and get you. You still at Luna’s building?”

“I am, but that’s alright. You’re already at home.”

“It’s not far.” He insisted. “I don’t mind. Besides, this way you don’t have to wait for a cab.”

You bit your lip, and responded. “As long as you’re sure.”

“I am.” A rustle could be heard on the other end, which you could safely assume came from his pushing his arms into his jacket. “I’ll be there in ten. Wait for me in the lobby, okay? It’s cold out.”

This made you giggle. Thoughtful and protective as ever. “Yoongi, it’s July.”

“I know but,” he replied with a sigh and you wondered if he was making that cute exasperated face that he used to make whenever you teased him, “just humor me, okay?”

“Okay.” You said, the remnants of laughter still present in your voice. “See you soon?”

He hummed in agreement before adding, “I’ll text you once i’m there.”

“Alright, bye.”

“Bye.”

The line went dead and immediately you began to fidget, nerves beginning to set in. In all honesty, you didn’t know what to expect when you went over there. There wasn’t time on the roof to discuss the details of what this arrangement would entail. Everything with Yoongi was grey, reminding you of how your relationship had started back in college. He never was big on discussing this type of stuff, you remarked silently. Yoongi was and always had been a man of action, not words. Words he saved for music. Once upon a time, you had found this incredibly frustrating. Now however, you were grateful that you could explore your rekindled relationship, whatever it may be, without the pressure of definition. Perhaps it was time that made the craving for clarity you had when you were younger wane. Or perhaps it was the fact that diving deep and defining what this was, meant you’d have to face the demons residing in your head. Whichever, you knew that there was one thing you’d have to lay out on the table for both of your sakes. As much as the thought of doing so made your heart clench and your gut churn with dread.

The screen of your phone lit up suddenly, a new text flashing up on the lock screen which read:

Here. Black car right in front of the doors.

Gathering yourself up from the couch, you took a soothing breath before stepping out of the building. Sure enough, a black car sat parked directly in front of the doors which gently clicked shut once you’d let go of the metal. Seeing the car, it was suddenly that much clearer to you that Yoongi really had worked hard in the time you’d been apart. As college kids, neither of you had driven, the cost of having a car in the city being too much for either of you to justify. Now however, it seemed Yoongi didn’t have a need to pinch pennies like he used to. The black car parked in front of you acting only as evidence of this fact. It was nothing obnoxious, but you could tell that the car had cost a fair amount more than your used Honda. Steeling yourself, you grasped the sleek handle on the door and climbed inside.

Settling as gracefully as possible into the luxurious leather seat, you sneaked a glance at Yoongi. A pang of guilt washed over you, realizing he had already changed into sweats and a simple white t-shirt before you’d called. You let a frown turn the corners of your lips downward. “Thank you for picking me up.”

A small chuckled emanating from his chest made you look up from his clothes. His face was encased in the blue glow of the lights from the dash of the car. His hair was slightly tousled, blonde tufts just long enough to sweep over his eyebrows. A teasing smirk played at the edges of his mouth while his dark eyes regarded you.

“What?” You fought the urge to squirm under his gaze.

“It’s been years and you still haven’t learned to just let people do things for you, huh?”

Rolling your eyes, you gently pushed at the hand that was draped over the gear shift. “I just don’t like being a bother.”

“You never are.” His blunt response made you blush, your gaze travelling down to your lap where your fingers toyed with one another.

There was no need to look up at him, you knew he had a pleased expression on his face. Playing with you had always been one of his favourite things to do, if only because of the color it brought to your cheeks. Shifting the car into drive, he pulled away from the curb.

Both of you fell silent as Yoongi drove, though it wasn’t uncomfortable. Lingering familiarity with one another eased the tension alongside your earlier banter. Turning your eyes toward the streets that passed you by, you wondered what his place was like. Did it measure up to the car? Your mind attempted to conjure up an image of what type of place you pictured Yoongi living in. However, everytime you tried to picture him living somewhere posh and luxurious, like the car, you couldn’t. The Yoongi you’d once known liked urban places. Area’s full of little nooks and crannies hiding the best of what the city could offer by the people who were its life blood. Hell, you couldn’t even count the number of times he’d led you through obscure alleyways and because ‘I swear, it’s the best in town’. And frankly, he’d always been right. Though that never stopped you from teasing him, calling him a hipster and laughing when he rolled his eyes. You didn’t even realize you were sporting a small smile while recalling all old memories until you felt it drop.

It really hadn’t been far, just as Yoongi had assured you. The car ride only lasted about 15 minutes before he was turning a corner to come before tall wrought-iron gates enclosing an area that was towered over by a few highrises. It was then that you realized that the car really did match the house as Yoongi unrolled his window and gave an amical wave to the man sitting in a small booth just on the other side of the iron bars. The man gave him a friendly grin before opening the gate for Yoongi’s car to pass through. Rolling his window back up, you sidled up to the passenger door, gawking at the height of the buildings before you. Yoongi’s fingers drummed against the head of the gear shifter as he pulled into a parking garage. As he drove to his space, you couldn’t help but notice that all the cars you passed were on the same caliber, or higher, as his own. Reaching his own parking spot, the car came to a stop and you unbuckled your seatbelt. Stepping out of the car, Yoongi locked the doors and motioned for you to follow him.

All the way up to the apartment, you had the distinct feeling that he was watching you and the feeling only heightened once you were inside. You did your best to school your features, not wanting to come off as rude, but you couldn’t help your eyes from widening as you took in his place. From the entryway, you could see into his kitchen and lounge. Both were impressive. The kitchen was decked out with white cabinets and marble countertops while the living room was big enough that you were positive it could house the entirety of your small shared apartment. But the real thing that caught your eye was the view.

Floor to ceiling windows made up the wall to the outside world and with the height you were at, you could see nearly the whole city. Lights twinkled in the distance as you let out a breathless, “Wow.”

“You like it?” Yoongi asked, his eyes still hovering over your frame as you slipped your shoes off to move closer to the windows.

“It’s beautiful.” You replied honestly, your gaze raking over the city. Eyes drifting down, you could barely make out the man sitting in his booth at the gate. Dimly, you noticed no one milled about the street down below, this area’s inhabitants much more used to staying within their pretty walls. You really had been honest; this place was beautiful materialistically, but something about it just seemed a little cold to you. There was no hustle and bustle here. It almost felt detached from the city. It wasn’t that you didn’t understand the appeal of being removed from the loud streets and neon signs, it was just so far from what you had known Yoongi to love when he was younger. These thoughts raced in your mind and before you could think better of it, you slipped, “but-”

“But?” Yoongi had padded across the hardwood floors to you while you were in thought, handing you a glass of water that you hadn’t even heard him get.

Quickly, you arranged your features into a warm grin, muttering a ‘thanks’ and taking a sip from the glass before speaking again, “I just always pictured you living somewhere more… lively.”

Insecurity flashed across his face so briefly, you wondered if it really had been there at all as he rearranged his expression into the indifferent look you were well acquainted with. A hand came up to scratch the back of his head as he replied, “yeah, I guess it is a bit… much, isn’t it?”

“No, Yoongi.” You rushed to say, worried you’d hurt his feelings. “It’s just a surprise is all. I knew you worked hard since we graduated, I just didn’t realize how hard.”

This seemed to appease him, but you could tell that he knew you were trying to make him feel better from the slight downturn of his mouth. Nodding, he motioned to the white couch in the living room. Relief flooded your veins at the realization that he was as content to drop the subject as you were when he said, “sit with me?”

Nodding, you padded your way across the hardwood floors to the couch, settling down in the middle. Yoongi followed, plopping down onto your right, leaving you to immediately question your decision making skills as the scent of his cologne engulfed you in the close proximity. A pale arm came to rest on the back of the couch as he wedged himself into the corner, legs spreading comfortably. A knee knocked yours and you forced yourself not to gasp at the contact. Slim fingers drummed the cushion, close enough to you that you were sure your hair was grazing the tips each time he lifted them. A jolt of desire churned in your stomach, unable to quell the images of where else those fingers had touched not weeks prior.

“So, what about you?” Yoongi’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“What about me?” You replied, trying to hide your blush as you took a sip of water, willing the liquid to kill the flames inside you before placing it on the coffee table in front of you. After all, you had no idea what to expect from tonight. You had no idea what Yoongi, or even you, expected from this causal relationship. Though your body certainly seemed to know what you wanted.

“What are you doing now?” He said. “I just realized that I never really asked. Did you apply at that newspaper after college?”

You hid the wince at the mention of that particular venture. “Um, I did, yeah.”

“And you got it? That’s great, Y/N-”

“Oh, no, I didn’t get the job.” You responded quickly, suddenly finding the spacious room more than a little stifling.

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay!” You plastered a bright practiced grin on your face and looked up at him, the same grin you’d given all of your relatives when they asked the same thing. Not wanting to make it more awkward, you blurted, “I actually got a job at a gardening magazine. It’s proofreading but the hours are great and the pay is pretty decent too.”

“Well, that’s great— wait,” He paused, a look of confusion passed over his face and your stomach dropped. You should’ve known better than to say anything to him of all people. “Proofreading? I thought you hated doing that.”

A melancholy chuckle left your lips. “I did, but honestly it’s not so bad. I could do worse.”

He hummed, not in agreement but acknowledgement and the fact that you could hear the difference irked you. “Are you gonna stay there for a while?”

It felt as though a crack had split your smile and Yoongi was peering into it. Were you really still so easy for him to read? It wasn’t fair, not when you felt like you were constantly chasing a shadow. The remains of the smile slipped from your lips and you considered his question. You shifted as you contemplated, your knee now leaning against his fully while your body twisted so you could face him more. Fingers brushed against your shoulder as you spoke softly. “Honestly? I don’t know anymore.”

“Why’s that?”

“I just—” you sighed, your brows furrowing together unable to help the way Yoongi seemed to pull the truth from you in any situation, “when I started there, I told myself it was only temporary. But as time went on, I guess I just started to get comfortable, y’know? And now, I don’t know, it’s hard to just up and leave something without guarantee that it’ll work out. So I stayed.”

He leaned forward slightly, almost making you jump when the pads of his fingers found the nape of your neck and kneaded the skin softly. It was casual; he only needed to move a few inches to reach your skin, his arm still resting nonchalantly over the back of the couch. If you were anyone else, you wouldn’t have really thought it was anything besides a comforting gesture. But you weren’t just anybody. The action made your mind sift through countless memories in which he’d done the same. Once he’d found out the action was something you found comforting years ago, it had become a sort of habit for him. You didn’t know if he had meant to do it or if it was only natural after having dated all through college, but the gesture instantly had you feeling more at ease. However, the touch still made your breath catch.

Hearing the stutter in your breathing, Yoongi hesitated. His fingers came to a stop and made to pull away as he muttered, “Sorry, I should’ve asked if it was okay before I—”

“Wait,” before you could think anything of it, your fingers curled around his forearm to halt him in his retreat, “it’s okay.”

It wasn’t actually, but with the way tension you hadn’t even known you’d been clutching on to had begun to seep from your limbs at his ministrations, you couldn’t muster the energy to deny yourself a reprieve.

A faint smile wormed its way onto his lips as your head tilted so that the skin of your cheek rested on his arm. In a voice so small you were sure he hadn’t meant for you to hear, you heard a barely there ‘cute’ just as his fingers resumed drawing shapes into your skin. Not wanting him to catch on that you’d heard, you drew your thanks into the skin of his arm, your own fingers mirroring the movements of his on your neck. With each shape drawn, Woojin grew more and more distant in your mind. Your resolve to confess grew weaker with every stroke while the butterflies in your stomach roared, finding the will to ruin this moment dismal.

“So,” you said, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over you two, “is this your move now?”

His head quirked and an eyebrow raised. “My move?”

“Yeah,” there was a teasing tone in your voice. “Instead of food stalls and diners you bring the girls up here to woo em’?”

A raspy chuckle shook his shoulders, a sly smirk stretching his lips. “Honestly, I haven’t had any of this long enough to try it. Why, is it working?”

“Meh,” you acted indifferent, shrugging your shoulders playfully and jiggling the arm that was half slung around you. “I prefer to be wined and dined.”

“I’d hardly call plastic stools, soju, and chicken ‘wined and dined.’”

“Hey,” you pouted, raising your head from his arm. “I’ll have you know I loved those stupid plastic chairs.”

“Don’t I know it.” He snorted. “You almost ripped my head off when you found out I went with Jin without you that one time.”

He wasn’t lying. You really almost did. “Well, yeah, but that’s because I always thought of it as our ‘place.’”

An amused look crossed his features. “Our ‘place?’”

“Yeah, y’know,” heat flared in your cheeks, absentmindedly squeezing his forearm out of embarrassment and mumbling, “like couples those in movies and shit have a ‘place.’ I thought of that as ours.”

“You thought of a street food stall as our ‘place’?” The mirth in his voice did not escape your ears.

“I mean, not just one. More like the street.” You replied sheepishly, earning you a genuine gummy laugh. The grips you had on each other loosened as his body rocked forward, his free hand landing on your thigh as his frame shook. Your heart did a somersault in your chest as the distance between you diminished. His laughter earned him a slap on the chest as your bottom lip jutted out. “Don’t laugh.”

“Sorry, it’s just, there?” His laughter died out, his hand on the back of the chair coming up to carry the weight of his head as he rested on it, your hair fluttering against his bicep. “Of all places?”

“Well, excuse me Mr. High-and-mighty. You have somewhere better you’re thinking of?”

“Your old apartment.” His answer was immediate.

“My apartment?” You questioned.

“Yeah,” he replied, a fondness glazing over his eyes as he looked down at you. “We had a lot of important moments in that place.”

Like watching a movie, memories flashed in your mind. Good, bad, and somewhere in between; all sorts of things happened in the confines of those walls. Some you wished you could forget. Some that you wouldn’t trade for anything in the world. It was only now that you realized just how close the two of you had gotten while you talked. His thumb rubbed at the skin just above your knee and he had drawn one leg of his own up onto the couch, folding it under himself so his shin pressed against the length of your thigh. The white shirt he wore billowed against your arm and upon looking at his face, you realized that if you leaned in just the littlest bit more, you would be able to stretch your neck up so your lips would meet. Looking at him, you finally saw behind his carefully constructed walls. The tender look on his face as his ink coloured irises gazed down at you told you that it wasn’t just you who treasured those memories. Eyes flicked from yours down to your mouth and you could feel his body coaxing you to just bridge the gap. Squirming under his gaze, your eyes dropped to your lap.

“I lived there,” you said with a shaky voice. “Doesn’t count as a place.”

An amused puff of air escaped him, fanning across your cheek down to your collarbone. Minty.

“So, is this how you get the guys now?” You couldn’t help but peer back up at him at the question. The hand that was on your leg rose to grip your chin, his thumb giving your bottom lip a featherlight stroke. A surge of heat rocketed through you at the contact. “By being a sore loser and pouting when they prove you wrong?”

This time, you chuckled, repeating his earlier words, “why, is it working?”

“Yes.” He admitted instantly, your legs pressing together in response. His hand holding you in his grip, dark eyes drifted down to where his thumb sat just below the ridge of your bottom lip. Your own eyes dropped too, watching raptly as his mouth came closer and closer to your own. The air felt heavy, your hands coming up to fist his shirt as your tongue snaked out to wet your lips, catching the salty tip of his thumb. Letting your eyes drift back up, you saw that his irises had become darker, his lids drooping slightly and exuding lust. He was going to kiss you and god, did you want him to. But as soon as you felt the slightest brush of his lips against yours, the face of your boyfriend popped into your mind. Jerking, you pushed him just far enough away that you could drop your head in shame.

“Yoongi, wait.” You fought the trembling in your voice. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

Ever-respectful, Yoongi immediately released you. His hand fell into his lap, your skin instantly mourning the loss as he leaned back away from you. Studying his face, you could feel your heartbeat quicken and your palms growing clammy. He watched as you tried to summon your courage, the only sign that he was worried being the way his brows scrunched to make the faintest ripple in the skin of his forehead. Taking a slow breath and trying not to pay attention to the way your face suddenly felt so much warmer, you spoke, “I should’ve told you this on the rooftop, but I-”

Your throat clenched around the syllables and your hands curled into fists where they had fallen on your lap when he had backed away from you.

“Hey,” Yoongi replied, reaching out to the hand on your lap before hesitating. Deciding you needed the comfort, he let his hand lower to stroke the skin. “It’s all right. You can tell me now. Or not. I never meant to push you into anything and if I have-”

“No! It’s not that. It’s nothing you did.” You immediately responded, your hand flipping to hold his tightly in reassurance. “I- um, I’m actually seeing someone.”

“Oh.” His hand was still in yours but you felt it go limp in your grasp. It was almost comical the way his eyes widened before his carefully constructed mask slipped into place. The silence was suffocating. If you tried, you could probably hear every car within a block of his place right now. Ink irises swept over your face and lowered your head, guilt surging through you. Sensing that you’d outstayed your welcome, you began to rise from the couch only for his fingers to contract and pull you down to the couch again. Landing rather ungracefully, you met his eyes once more. “Is that why you freaked out the next morning?”

You didn’t have to ask for context. “Yeah, it was him on the phone.”

“Hm…” He hummed, more to let you know that he’d heard you than anything. His eyes studied your face, as though searching for something. But what, you didn’t know. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Um,” you replied, “I don’t know if you noticed, but I was a little bit busy freaking the fuck out.”

He gave you an exasperated look, his grip still tight on your hand. “I mean that night.”

You opened your mouth to answer, only to shut it again. Why hadn’t you? You’d been drinking, but not nearly enough to make you forget something so vital. Even when you were having sex, you knew it was wrong in the back of your mind, and yet you hadn’t let out a peep. Sifting through your memories, you couldn’t really find a definite answer. At least you had the decency to shoot him an apologetic glance. “I should’ve, I know.”

“And after?”

“I didn’t think your number was the same?” It was a sorry excuse and you both knew it.

“You didn’t think to ask the six friends we share?”

“I-”

“He doesn’t know does he?” The question he cut you off with was more a statement than anything.

“No.” Something in Yoongi’s eyes seemed to click, causing shame to make your ears burn as you spoke.

“The way I see it,” Yoongi let out a small, humourless chuckle before a smirk settled onto his mouth and his thumb started to rub slow circles into the skin of your hand. “Most people who want something like this to go away,” He shifted closer on the couch and his palm began to glide up your arm. Your eyes shifted to your lap, knowing exactly where he was going with this. “Probably would’ve either stayed away or told me to shove off.”

The fingers of his right hand fluttered past your left shoulder as his shirt brushed the skin of your arm from his leaning closer. Everywhere he touched felt on fire, the soft pads of his fingertips pushing your hair behind your ear and exposing your neck did nothing to help. And then you felt his breath. Warm and flooding your senses enough that you couldn’t hold back a shudder. He chuckled darkly, letting his mouth come so close to your ear that you could feel the ghost of it along the shell. His voice was thick when he spoke, “you didn’t do either, so what exactly do you want?”

Your voice was hardly a whisper, heat beginning to churn inside your belly, “I don’t know.”

“I think you do.” He said with a laugh as his fingers grazed over your neck to cup your jaw. Gently, he turned your head so you looked up at him, his nose nearly grazing yours. He was close, so close, and yet never invading your space. Never taking that last step of intrusion without your permission. The city lit up the edges of his hair as he let your breath merely mingle with his own in the last inch of space between you. His thumb stroked your jaw lightly while his dark, hooded, eyes searched yours. “What do you want, Y/N?”

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, peeking out to wet your lips before swallowing the lump in your throat and saying, “He can’t find out.”

And then his lips were on yours. A mewl catching in your throat as your eyes fluttered closed because finally he was kissing you. Lips pillowed yours while his fingers left your jaw to tangle themselves up in the hair at the nape of your neck. Your hands flew from your lap to curl into the fabric of his shirt once again, pulling him ever closer. You were the one to swipe your tongue across the seam of his lips, practically begging him to grant you access. A month. One whole month since you felt this much heat pooling between your legs and all the man had done was kiss you, for christ sake.

When Yoongi finally let his tongue slide against yours, you really did mewl, making him chuckle into the kiss. He took the opportunity to explore your mouth, mint painting over your taste buds as one of your hands crawled up his chest to grip his shoulder. When your mouths parted, you leant forward, chasing his lips until a sharp yank of your hair moved you back into place. Seemed Yoongi hadn’t forgotten that you liked a little pain with your pleasure. Lips trailed across your cheek to your jaw as Yoongi made a humming noise, his hand fisting your hair to pull your head back far enough so he had full access to your neck.

“You seem a little wound up.” He remarked smugly before placing a wet kiss just under your jaw.

“N-no marks, Yoongi.” You moaned, fingers digging into his shoulder.

“‘Course not.” He chuckled, letting his lips and tongue glide down the column of your neck, leaving a wet trail in their wake. Teeth grazed your neck, but he did as you asked. “Wouldn’t want him knowing someone else is doing his job better, would we?”

You couldn’t reply, as the hand that wasn’t curled up in your hair grazed the skin of your thigh, inching ever higher. Instead, you let out a breathy exhale, the hand on his shoulder gliding to the nape of his neck. Lips travelled back up to yours, kissing you in slow, sensual pecks that wouldn’t be nearly enough to satiate you and he knew it. When it became apparent that he wasn’t going to take the initiative to tangle his tongue with yours, you tried to take control. Leaning as far into him as you could while he still held your hair in a fist, you snaked your tongue out to touch his puffed lips. A chuckle rumbled through his body to yours before he slipped away. His fingers released their hold on you and he shifted to rest his back on the arm of the couch, his left leg tucked to line your thigh while the other dangled off the couch. Heady eyes appraised your tousled appearance, raking over your flushed cheeks to where your fingers were digging into your thighs. With a thoroughly smug smirk, he patted his thigh.

Perhaps the motion should’ve made you annoyed, the implication that you were something akin to a pet more than clear. But instead it merely threw gas on the fire roaring in your belly. Maybe a little too eagerly, you moved so you could straddle him as he stretched his legs out under you. There was no denying the heat that flashed in his eyes as you bunched the fabric of your skirt so you could lower your weight down onto him. The jean material sitting in the crevice where your ass met your leg and just barely covering your core from his eyes. Not that it would be on for much longer if you had it your way. Both hands came to cup his face, tilting it up so you could crush your lips to his. His own digits snuck under your jacket, dragging over the curves of your waist as his tongue slid over yours. One hand slid to the small of your back while the other roughly palmed your breast, making you break the kiss with a hiss. It seemed your breast was only a stop though, his right hand continuing its journey up to push your jacket away from your shoulder. Taking the hint, you leaned back to rid yourself of the coat. Yoongi let his right hand come back to your thigh, skimming his hand back and forth over the length of it, inching higher with each stroke.

Dropping the jacket on the floor unceremoniously, you hastily reattached his lips to yours. As you kissed, your body started to follow the motions, gently rocking on his lap in an effort to encourage his digits to just dip under your skirt already. You huffed in exasperation when the pads of his fingers left your leg completely, feeling him grin impishly into the kiss. His teeth caught your lower lip as his hand began to tug your shirt out from where it was tucked into your skirt. Releasing your lip, he commanded gruffly, “off, Kitten.”

Obeying immediately, you used both hands to peel the loose tee off before depositing it on top of your jacket, your core clenching at the nickname. As soon as you were free of the shirt, Yoongi wrapped his arms around your waist, wrenching you into him. Clutching his shoulders to steady yourself, wet kisses coated your skin from your clavicle to the mounds of your breasts. Cold patches of saliva coating your chest made you shiver when his breath ghosted over them. The digits on your back traced up your spine until they reached their destination, deftly unhooking the clasps of your bra. The straps hung on loosely to your shoulders until Yoongi took it upon himself to slide them down your arms. As soon as they were revealed, Yoongi’s eyes fell heavily onto your breasts. Throwing the bra to the side, his hands clutched your waist as he brought his mouth to a nipple. A tantalized sigh escaped you when his tongue slipped out to flick a pert bud, only to circle it after. Dropping your head back, pleasure bloomed inside you as he teased your nipple until it was hard before moving on to the other. Hands clutched your skirt, forcing it up and over your hips to expose your cloth covered sex. Satisfied with his ministrations, Yoongi pulled back to rest once again against the arm of the couch as his hands slid down to cup your ass. Fingers digging into your cheeks, he guided you into rocking over him, causing you to let out a moan.

“You’re a mess,” he pointed out, arousal heavy in his voice making it rasp in a way that you’d always loved. His words made you clench around nothing, grinding your hips into him for friction that you desperately needed and feeling his bulge through his sweats. “I haven’t even touched you where you really want it and you’re a mess. You’re practically drooling. I bet your panties are soaked.”

It was true, they were. You could feel it every time you rolled your hips, your underwear sliding over your weeping core so it was slick with your juices. His words did nothing to help, each syllable shooting straight to your groin. Pleased with the fucked out nod that you gave him as a reply, one of his hands released your ass, the other coming to your hip to still your movements. Nudging you to support your own weight, you were about to whine in protest when his free hand traced your slit lightly, making the noise die in your throat. With the pace of a snail, Yoongi moved his thumb to press into your clit, slowly circling the sensitive nub. A shuddered breath escaped you as you stuttered, “Y-Yoongi.”

“What is it, Princess? That desperate already?” He teased, speeding up his thumb every few strokes only to slow down once more. You couldn’t bring yourself to care that you were practically putty in his hands already. You blamed the weeks of fantasizing about him for it. When you didn’t respond, Yoongi leaned forward to bite at the skin of your breast with a growled demand. “Answer me.”

You were certain he could have felt the way your sex clenched at his rough treatment. Yoongi had always been dominant in the bed, but never like this. Never this vocal. However, it was a welcome change; a new trait of his you were more than pleased to discover, though a little curious as to what brought it on. Swirling your hips in an effort to get more friction from his touch, you let out a whispered “yes.”

“Good.” He hummed, fingers flicking your underwear to the side so he could finally touch you. His index ran along the length of your slit, to collect your juices. Pulling the finger back to gaze at the slickness that now coated the digit, he questioned, “how long has it been since you were this wet?”

You nearly groaned when he brought the finger to his mouth, sucking the traces of you off his skin. “A month.”

Popping the finger out of his mouth, he gave you a delighted laugh. “That so? Boyfriend can’t seem to get you going?”

“Not like you.” Your answer was immediate, leaning over to peck him softly as your hands strayed to the edge of his shirt that had ridden up from when you’d rocked over him. You moved your mouth to his neck, slipping your hands under his shirt to feel the soft skin of his stomach.

He hummed in approval, letting his head fall to the side to give your wandering lips more room. When he spoke, you could feel the rumble of his voice against your lips, “Good answer.”

Sliding his hand back to your core, he swiped his thumb over you, capturing some of the moisture before returning it to your clit. Much to your relief, he had deigned to reward you with a steady circular rhythm that instantly had you gasping into his neck. When his middle finger delved inside you, you couldn’t keep your nails from digging into his abdomen. Pleasure bloomed inside of you as he dragged the finger across your walls and out before inserting it again. Moans left your lips in encouragement, muffled as you sucked at his neck. Sure, he wasn’t allowed to mark you, but there were no rules against marring his skin. Your hands explored the expanse of his chest, nails digging in every few thrusts and pushing the shirt up higher. When he inserted another finger, you keened and dragged your nails from his sternum to his pelvis hard enough to make him hiss, though he didn’t stop you. Slowly but surely, your hips began to rock in tandem with his hand, the thumb on your clit now only making contact when you rolled down onto his hand. Yoongi curled his fingers inside you and you shook, rolling down harder as your walls spasmed. Unable to focus on anything other than his fingers, your lips ceased their onslaught on his neck to bury your forehead there instead, heat consistently rolling through you. With every push of your hips you could feel yourself edging closer and closer to completion, your movements gradually getting rougher as you desperately chased it.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Yoongi groaned, “look at you go.”

His words spurred you to lift your face from his neck to see what he meant. Uncurling from your tucked position, you felt a spurt of pride when you noticed the way the milky skin of his neck was splattered with red, some spots dark enough that you were sure they’d form a bruise. Eyes crawling down to where his hand was buried inside you, you realized that at some point when you’d begun to lose yourself to the pleasure, Yoongi had stopped stroking your walls. Evidently, your rocking had been hard enough that he’d had to lower you down until his hand was resting against his own pelvis, stagnant. Embarrassment made your hips stutter when it dawned on you that you’d been using his hand like a toy.

“Don’t stop,” he growled, the hand on your hip squeezing almost painfully as it encouraged you to continue rutting against him. The pull and push of his hand, eased you back into motion, his eyes locked on where your center swallowed his hand. When he was sure you’d continue without his help, the hand on your hip trailed up to cup your breast, tweaking the nipple under his thumb. The only movement from the hand inside of you was a gentle curl that accompanied each thrust of your hips and made the tension in your lower abdomen begin to mount. “That’s it. Fuck yourself on my fingers, Princess.”

Below you, you could feel how hard Yoongi was. His thick length brushing against your inner thigh in a way that you knew couldn’t be satisfying for him, though he couldn’t seem to care less. You ached to touch him, make him feel even a modicum of the pleasure he was so effortlessly pulling from you. But with the position you were in, it was impossible. So instead you clutched the hand that was gripping your breast and brought it to your lips, Yoongi’s eyes watching you curiously as you did so. Pushing his index and middle finger together, you wrapped your mouth around them and swirled your tongue around them as though his digits were a much different part of his body. Satisfaction made you suck when you heard the barely there moan that escaped his chest at the motion. Shallowly, Yoongi began to thrust his fingers into your warm mouth.

“Shit, you really are desperate for me aren’t you?” He remarked, an amused mask cast over his features, but you could see the lust underlining his irises. Instead of answering verbally, you merely sucked, coaxing his fingers deeper into your mouth. A chuckle rumbled in his chest as his fingers in your core began to move again as a reward. “He really must not be taking very good care of you. Or at least not like I do.”

There was just enough insecurity in his voice for you to catch it, though Yoongi stamped out any chance for you to soothe it by clamping his fingers in your mouth down to trap your tongue while the ones buried in your heat began a brutal pace.

“Bet I can make you feel better with my fingers than he ever could with his dick.” Yoongi’s mouth tilted into a wicked grin at his own challenge. You already have, you wanted to say, but the fingers holding your tongue down and the spasming in your core morphed it into a strangled moan. The tension in your belly was taut now, threatening to snap with any plunge of his fingers. When he scissored his fingers inside you, you knew you were gone. The deep rasp of his voice in your ears breaking the floodgate when he said, “C’mon, Kitten. Cum for me.”

A tidal wave of pleasure lit up your nerves like a christmas tree. The intensity of it made your body curl in on itself as your hands clamped down on Yoongi to keep yourself steady. Hips stuttering, you rode out the waves as Yoongi’s fingers in your mouth slithered out, a lewd string of saliva strung from his fingertips to your lips. As your movements slowed, so did Yoongi’s, until he gently pulled his hand away from your mound. Blinking away the blurriness in your vision, you watched as Yoongi spread his fingers in the soft light of his apartment. Traces of you coated his digits, shining when they caught they caught the light as he brought them to his mouth. Hooded eyes locked with yours as he cleaned his fingers of your essence and despite the orgasm you’d just had, you felt your sex clench greedily.

Leaning forward, you pulled his fingers from his mouth so you were free to capture his lips with your own. Releasing his wrist, you rested a hand on his shoulder as the other snaked down his body. When you finally reached your desired destinations, you squeezed through the fabric he still wore. Yoongi broke the kiss to let out a breath, warming your lips as you cupped him through his sweats, the length of his dick solid under your touch. Eager to return the favour, your hand slipped under the bands of his clothes, taking him in hand and relishing in the feel of the contact. Trailing your lips to his throat, you pumped him, a soft groan rumbling under your kiss. You didn’t mark him any more, merely brushing across the marks on him before delving further. Truth be told, you were frustrated that he’d opted to keep his shirt on for the time being, aching to see and feel the skin hidden by it under your lips. You didn’t let it distract you though, shimmying down his body and positioning yourself so that you straddled one of his legs while the one that was closest to the edge of the couch moved so his foot was flat on the floor. Once you were settled, you tugged on his bottoms. Lifting his hips, he let you tug them down just enough that his erection could escape.

Keeping your eyes on him, you curled over to place a chaste kiss on the tip, the slow strokes of your hand never ceasing. You saw him try and fail to hide a shudder, evidently hesitant to show that you had just as much of an effect on him as he had on you. Resting your hand on the base, you kissed down his hard length. He cast an annoyed look, which made you smile. You let your tongue loll out of your mouth, dragging it up the underside of his cock before taking the tip on your mouth. Sucking lightly, you tasted the first hint of precum on your tongue and hummed, watching as Yoongi’s eyelids drooped with pleasure. Never did you think you’d miss the taste of someone's cum, and yet here you were. The desire to him surged inside you as you took him into your mouth, your hand sweeping over the inches you couldn’t yet reach. Yoongi gathered your hair in his hand, swirling it so it made a coil that wound around his grip to keep it from impeding your efforts. Resting the hand on the back of your head, he urged you further down his length with every bob of your head. The sound of slurping echoed in the apartment as you did your best to pleasure him in all the ways you remembered him liking. Taking a breath through your nose, you let your hand fall to his balls, cupping and massaging at them. Yoongi’s jaw fell so his mouth hung slightly open when you sucked him down until his tip hit the back of your throat. His grip in your hair tightening as he muttered “shit.”

The reaction made your stomach clench, rekindling the arousal between your legs. Sliding back up, your saliva coated his dick, the veins bulging just beneath the skin. Diving back down, you took him as far as you could, your free hand gripping his shirt in as you fought the urge to gag. He let out a small groan, his hand holding your head in place. Swallowing around him, he couldn’t keep his hips from jerking upward, tears springing in your eyes but you remained still.

“Fuck, I forgot how good at this you are.” Your lower half grinded over his leg in an effort to ease the tension that had built up in your core again as your heart swelled with pride from his praise. Easing up only a little to take a breath, you lowered even further, only stopping when the tip of your nose touched the skin of his groin. The moan you let out around him made Yoongi tipped his head back, relishing in the constriction of your throat on him and the feel of you rubbing yourself against him. Tears leaked out of your eyes as you struggled to not gag with him so far down your throat, failing once or twice. Though Yoongi didn’t mind, in fact he seemed to get off on it, a murmur of “good girl” falling from his lips each time. When the pressure became too much, you eased up once again, inhaling deeply. As soon as you went to take him in again though, the hand gripping your hair held you back. Brows furrowed in confusion, you fixed him with a questioning look as he sat up, dragging you up into a sitting position in the process. Yanking your head back to kiss a line up to your throat, he mumbled “I’d rather cum doing something else.”

A chill skittered down your spine, letting him push you around like a toy as he maneuvered you how he wanted. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he moved you to straddle him once again, lifting his leg that brushed the floor so it was once again on the couch. Holding you tightly, your chest was crushed to his, each breath making your breasts push against him. Weaseling a hand down in between you, you keened when he grabbed the base of his dick and ran the tip along your folds, quickly moving yourself to pull your panties to the side for better access. You were so wet again that you heard the slippery sounds of his head being coated in your juices. When he rimmed your opening, your head clouded with lust, desperation coursing through your veins and causing words to tumble past your lips without so much as a second thought. “Yoongi, please just fuck me.”

“Hm,” he hummed, holding you up so that you couldn’t sink down on him like you wanted. A smirk toyed at the edges of his mouth again as he admonished, “I think you can beg a little better than that.”

“Please,” Surely, you thought, this counts as some form of torture. A gasp escaped you when he let the tip of his length delve into you and proceeded to hold it there as words started to babble from your mouth. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for a whole month. You make me feel so good, Yoongi. I can’t stop thinking about how you fucked me on that stupid chair and how much I just want you to do it again, how much I just want to feel you inside me again. I want you to stretch me out, fill me up, and make it so you have to carry me home. Please.”

“Much better.” His praise is accentuated by his length finally slipping the rest of the way inside of you, finding little resistance from how wet you were.

A pleased sigh left your mouth as his now free hand swatted yours away from your underwear to hold it to the side himself, thumb hooking into the material and pinning it to where he gripped your thigh. The hand that was slithered around your waist fell to your hip as he leaned back, letting you move to start rocking on him. There was no denying how he made you feel. You hadn’t been lying when you’d begged. The proof being in how perfectly he filled you and how you’d hardly moved at all yet you already felt your walls pulsating around him, begging for the feeling only he seemed to be able to give you. You never felt like this when you had sex with Woojin, or anyone else for that matter, and the admission of that frustrated you. What if staying with Woojin was the mistake and not this?

It’s only sex for right now, you reminded yourself, picking up the pace as though to prove it to yourself. Focusing on how Yoongi’s dick stroked your walls in an effort to will away your thoughts, it was almost as if the man below you knew your thoughts were straying. He bent his legs under you to prop his heels against the seat cushion before drilling upward to match your thrusts, effectively whisking away any thoughts that weren’t about him. Your mouth gaped and you tilted your head back, feeling the coil in your stomach getting ever tighter. Apparently, he felt it too, immediately wrenching you off him when it felt on the verge of snapping.

The groan of frustration you gurgled out was cut short by him muttering gruffly, “Stand up.”

Without protest, you shifted your shaking legs to stand. Yoongi moved to sit before you, his hands groped up the back of your thighs until they met your ass. Kneading your cheeks roughly, he tipped forward. Your hand curled in his hair when his tongue peeked out to glide over the skin of your lower stomach in a wet kiss, punctuated by his teeth nipping at your hip. Unceremoniously, he yanked your panties down before standing. Stepping out of the fabric, you flung them to the side with your toe as Yoongi’s mouth met yours, his hands gripping your hips. Your tongues danced as you felt Yoongi pivot the both of you so you now had your back to the couch. Pulling away from the kiss with a nibble at your lower lip, he turned you abruptly. The silken skin of his cock brushed against your ass, the leftovers of your sticky fluids transferring from him to you. Lips brushed against your ear as a hand traveled up your curves to rest against the top of your spine as he all but growled, “bend over.”

He hardly gave you the chance to obey, his palm pressing into your spine to tilt you forward. Bracing yourself by gripping the top of the couch with your elbows bent so your back was nearly level, the hand on your spine slithered to your head. Fingers gathered your hair in a fist and yanked it toward him like a leash, forcing your head to pull back, your spine to bend, and your ass to push into him with a hiss. At the sound of your pain, the hand loosened to your own dismay.

“Too much?” You immediately shook your head ‘no’. There was no doubting the pleased note in his voice as his grip tightened again to pull on the strands of your hair and he replied, “good girl.”

A foot nudged in between yours, edging your feet outward to spread your legs for him. Guiding himself to your entrance, he thrust himself inside you. His free hand gripped your hip, blunt nails digging into the skin as he pulled back and thrust himself back in with a resounding snap of his hips. The pace he set picked up right from where you’d left off instead of building up. Your shrill cry of pleasure echoed in the apartment, the new angle allowing him to hit deep with each push of his hips. The force of his movements jostled your body, the strength causing your breasts to sway underneath you. The feel of cotton brushed against your spine as Yoongi’s body curled over yours. His dick was filling you in the way you had only felt when you were with him, your brain reduced to mush as he pushed you more toward the couch with every thrust until your arms were bent and the only thing keeping your head from falling into the top of the couch was the grip on your hair. Your jaw hung open, moans and mewls escaping your lungs as you pushed backwards to match his rhythm. You were close, nearly letting out a sob when his pace slowed.

“Tell me,” his breath fanned against your ear, your mind swirling with pleasure. His words were slightly laboured, most of his effort going toward plowing you into the couch. “How many times have you thought of me when you were with him?”

“Before the party?” You replied, breathlessly. “Never.”

“And after?”

You didn’t have the capacity to feel embarrassed at the moment. “Every time.”

At your admission his hips snapped into you with renewed vigor and you couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied at the fact that Min Yoongi was jealous. Pain tingled at your scalp as Yoongi pulled on your hair, forcing you to follow as he tilted up, causing your arms to straighten. Fingers trailed up your stomach, briefly pausing to palm your breast before travelling further upward until they reached your neck. Digits gripped your throat, his forearm finding its home in the valley of your breasts making you feel the way the muscles tensed when he tightened his grip to limit your breathing. A moan was caught by his hand, the sound coming out choked and gurgling. Yoongi pressed his forehead into your shoulder, a grunt pushing past his lips when your walls began to contract tellingly. With a few more thrusts, you came undone.

A moan rumbled against your back, your legs trembling as ecstasy crashed over your body, the pressure at your neck heightening it. Your vision became spotty as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your veins. Velvet walls spasmed around Yoongi, his hips stuttering at the sensation, though continuing to guide you through your orgasm. When a faint feeling began to fog your mind, you reached up to tap Yoongi’s hand. Immediately he released your neck and you gasped in a gulp of air, the sopping sounds of Yoongi pistoning into you rang in your ears as he desperately chased his own end. With a few more snaps of his hips and a harsh grope of your breast, Yoongi finished. A groan of pleasure hung in the air as he hastily pulled out, painting your back with ropes of white. He shifted a hand to stroke himself, riding out his high. A piece of you couldn’t help but feel disappointed that he didn’t want to cum inside of you like last time. In the back of your mind, you had to wonder if this was him drawing a line and if it was for his sake or yours. As the last of his orgasm dribbled out, he released a breath of hot air that you felt faintly caress your shoulder before wrapping his free arm around your stomach. For a moment the both of you were silent, exhaustion making your chests heave while your bodies began to cool, his cum making goosebumps rise on your skin as it began to dry.

“Was that okay?” Yoongi asked suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was soft as he spoke, a stark contrast from earlier. “Not too rough?”

You brought one hand away from the couch to rub at the arm that encased you, “it was more than okay.”

His chest vibrated with a chuckle. “Good, you always were kinky but I thought I’d check.”

Changing your tune, you slapped his arm. “I’m kinky?! What does that make you?”

Yoongi struggled to keep the giggle from his voice when he pinched your side and quipped, “a willing and considerate partner.”

Feeling your legs beginning to shake, Yoongi sighed and pulled away from you, releasing your body from his hold as silence fell over the room once again. You did your best to stay upright, only faltering a little before your legs remembered that they were, in fact, not Jell-o. Your hands ached when you finally released the other from its hold on the back of the couch and stood up straight. You hoped that your vice grip hadn’t done any damage to the material. A shuffling of fabric could be heard behind you and you turned your head to peer at Yoongi as he walked across the living room to the washroom. Collecting your clothes off the floor, a twang of regret pulled at your heart that you hadn’t been able to see his body as you’d fucked. However, it was quickly snuffed out by surprise when you caught yourself thinking, there’s always next time. You mentally began to prepare yourself, remembering how sick you’d felt after you’d last had sex with Yoongi, and even Woojin for that matter. For over a month you’d felt disgusting after having sex and now, when by all means you should feel that way, you didn’t. Even with the thick rivulets of cum from someone who was most definitely not your boyfriend slowly dripping down your spine. But why?

Your contemplation was interrupted as Yoongi gently placed a hand on your shoulder, a slightly worried look on his face as he bit his lip and turned you to wipe his cum off of your back with a rag he had gotten. Scratching the back of his head, he nodded toward the other side of the living room.

“There’s a bathroom there if you want to get cleaned up. I have clothes you can wear…”

You knew what the unspoken question was in that statement and as much as you wanted nothing more than to accept his offer, you couldn’t. “I should probably go back home.”

He nodded, unsurprised by your answer. “Yeah, I guess he’ll be waiting for you, hey?”

“Yeah.”

He was silent and you felt a stab of self-consciousness now that the heat had been taken out of the room. Glaringly aware that you were standing naked in his apartment you held your jacket to your chest so it at least partially covered your body. “At least let me make you something to eat before you go. There wasn’t much left at Luna’s after the guys dug in.”

Lifting your eyes from the pile of clothes you crushed to your chest, you shot him a soft smile. “I’d like that.”

Nodding, he turned and shuffled toward the kitchen as you made your way to his bathroom. Flicking on the light and closing the door, you quickly began to attempt to make yourself presentable. Sliding your skirt and bra on, you decided to forego the panties that you shoved into your jacket pocket. Your hair was the worst of it, thoroughly mussed from Yoongi’s hands. When you did your best to smooth it down, you couldn’t help but notice that the follicles felt sore, though you didn’t actually mind much. The reward of his roughness was most definitely worth the pain you felt between your legs and where his hands had handled you. Once you were satisfied with your appearance you exited the bathroom, a savory aroma wafting to your nose.

“Ramen?” You asked, coming to stand beside him at the stove.

A grin made his lips turn upward as he stirred the noodles in the pot, remarking, “only the best for my hook-ups.”

“Oh.” You deadpanned, a flare of jealousy licking at your insides. “So, I’m not the only one coming around then.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He chuckled. “Not that you really have a right to complain here.”

That made you frown guiltily. “I-I guess you’re right.”

Noticing your sullen expression, he started to backpedal, “Sorry, I shouldn't have said that.”

“No,” you shook your head before tilting it to lean on his shoulder to stop him from thinking he’d upset you. “I mean you really are right. I pretty much told you I’m not going to stop what I’m doing so it’s not fair for me to expect you to.”

He hummed, his features screwed up in thought. “Then, what happens now? I’d rather not wait another month before seeing you again.”

“Me either, honestly. We do whatever we both feel comfortable with, I suppose.” You could feel the tension melt from Yoongi’s frame, though your own seemed to bask in it. Anxiety chewed at your soul, despite what you said, at the thought of this all blowing up in your face, but you still didn’t want to let this pass by. Deep down you knew that if you did, you would never stand a chance at ever letting Yoongi go with a million ‘what if’s’ taking residence in your head. Sensing your thoughts running rampant, a hand glided to rub at the small of your back as a sweet distraction. A small sigh left you as your head fell to his chest and his arm coaxed you to press your body into his. “Just like you said on the roof, I want to explore this.”

“Okay,” Yoongi agreed, nodding. “So, let’s say I asked if you’d kiss me right now. How comfortable are we feeling with that?”

An amused giggle escaped your lips, craning your neck to look up at him. “So comfortable that I just might say yes.”

Pushing yourself up onto your tippy toes, you slanted your mouth against his. The kiss was soft, lips welcoming one another as old friends and sending a warm feeling through your chest. Your fingers crawled up to rest your palm against his sternum as you pecked him for a second, third, and fourth time. Pressing circles into his chest with your thumb, you broke the kiss to brush your lips against his cheek before falling to the flats of your feet. Turning his attention back to cooking, he waited a few more moments before shutting off the burner.

“Go sit.” He said, jerking his head toward the breakfast bar at the kitchen island.

You nodded obediently, extracting yourself from his warmth to slide onto one of the barstools. Yoongi grabbed two bowls and filled them, rounding the island to place one in front of you before plopping down onto the stool beside you with his own. Motioning for you to dig in he watched as you blew on the scalding meal, biding his time until you’d shoveled in a couple mouthfuls before saying. “You are, by the way. The only one.”

You coughed on the hot soup, his laughter echoing in the room as he pat your back and your cheeks warmed. Swallowing the mouthful, you shot him a glare. “You did that on purpose.”

“Maybe.” He admitted, a playful, content smile on his face which stayed there for the rest of the night.

#bts fanfic #bts smut #yoongi smut #yoongi imagine #yoongi fanfic #bts imagine #suga smut #suga imagine #suga fanfic #bts scenarios #yoongi scenarios #suga scenarios #listen #this has been in my drafts for A WHOLE ASS YEAR #if there are spelling mistakes and shit i am sprry but i do not have the energy to edit this thing atm #honestly a miracle i finally got it out ok #ok bye see you next year lmao

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