#on the bright side it is a REALLY GOOD SONG LIKE INCREDIBLE SONG | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alphabetboyluvr · 11 months ago

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HUSH | MYG - TWO

pairing: rockstar!yoongi x female reader | mutual disdain - lovers (but also strangers - lovers? kinda?)

premise: in which you work for your brothers band by day and accidentally anonymously sext his bandmate on the regular by night! whoops !!

wc: 10k

for more details, pls see the master list (x)

note from holly: if you've read hush over on wattpad, then you've already seen this! sorry!! but this is everything that was on wattpad--the next upload will be 100% fresh hehe

warnings: alcohol, foul language, creepy men in bars, sexting (minimal!! very brief!), yoongi is both an asshole and a good guy, oc and yoongi are dumb!! and argumentative!! we learn a teeny tiny bit more lore for the night that never was!!

the app (x) | the band (x) | part one (x)

minors dni!!!

GOLDEN CLOSET STUDIO Big Hit Ent, Yongsan-gu

"Back again so soon?" Jungkook grins when you traipse into his studio the next morning.

Slumping down onto the sofa with a groan, you get comfortable like it's a second home to you. Only just gone midday, you're exhausted. You'll tell anyone who asks that you went out for a morning run, but you'll be lying through your teeth.

See, what made you tired may have given flushed cheeks, but sadly no cardio was involved. Just some pixels. Words. Another goddamn video call of a bedroom you know so damn well but have never stepped foot within. From his belly button down, you'd recognise your Damocles boys in a heartbeat. Wonder if you'd be able to tell if you saw him in the wild, fully clothed.

You doubt it.

No, what's made you so tired isn't the things that get you up in the morning, but rather the things that keep you up all night.

Or just 'thing'.

A singular.

You're not sure you want to classify him as a person, because currently he's just pixels on a screen - but the images those pixels so often make? The dirty words that form in negative spaces just for you to see?

Yeah. You think that he's too good to be true. Can't be a real man.

"Meeting," you mumble into the cushion of the chair. "You know how many logistics are involved in taking you guys on tour? It's mad."

"Logistics?" He snorts, knowing your job has nothing to do with that side of the business.

"I'm shadowing," you reply. "Jinyu sweet-talked someone she knows in that department. Following one of the planners around for the week."

"Really tryna work your way up, huh?" Jungkook asks, before quietly musing, "Hope Jinyu'll sweet-talk me some time."

He's not wrong. About working your way up, that is. Jinyu will never sweet-talk him.

Big Hit is a great stepping stone - an industry outlier, built from the ground up - but you don't want to be in your brother's shadow for too long.

You fear it'll look like you're complacent; as if you want an easy life that you don't have to work hard for. Get some experience, get a good reference, and get out; that's the plan. Maybe work somewhere overseas, away from the confines of your family name.

You don't entertain Jungkook's musings, instead opting to shuffle a little further into his sofa. It's leather and still smells brand new - not because it is, but because Jungkook is meticulous in his cleaning regimes. Will probably wipe it down after you leave. Is perhaps the neatest rockstar you've ever known - not that you know all that many.

And that's exactly your issue; even if you want to get out of Seokjin's shadow, you've no idea where to turn to. Bright light saturates everything else. Here, you're hidden. Safe. Comfortable.

Well, comfortable except for one particular thorn in your side.

"Get your song sorted with Yoongi last night?" You ask, genuinely curious about it. You're also incredibly nosey, and Yoongi is a dick. What you'd like to hear is that he's annoyed and frustrated, because that's how he makes you feel.

It's selfish to think that way. The album cycle is well and truly underway, and the boys are cramming every spare moment into perfecting it. You aren't too aware of the process, you just know that Yoongi speaks to you even less now that the stress is mounting.

They're made for the stage. Would spend all day every day performing, if it was sustainable. Don't enjoy the downtime - but you think it's because the slowness of it all interferes with their live fast, die young bullshit.

Jungkook shakes his head. "It's missing something. Can't figure out what. We're gonna leave it until after the Europe dates. Hopefully will have found some inspiration over there."

You accept his answer without a response. Know that any advice you could give would be redundant. You don't know the first thing about music production, and think it would be a waste of energy to float ideas for a song you've not even heard.

"Think Yoongi needs to rest," Jungkook muses a little mindlessly. "Was here till stupid o'clock last night."

You mumble a response, and Jungkook takes it as an indication to continue.

"Last email he sent was at like, what? Three in the morning? How his brain could've still been working, I've no idea."

"He's a night owl," you hum, as if it's a new discovery. "Works better that way. It's like you work best after a good sleep. He works best a little sleep-deprived."

"Yeah but how?!"

"I dunno. Brain science. Ask Yoongi. He probably knows. Psychology n shit."

Jungkook just rolls his eyes. He won't be asking Yoongi.

Just like he also won't be asking Yoongi if he wants to join you all for drinks later that evening.

That job? Yeah, that's up to you.

Neither you, Jimin, nor Jungkook wanna ask Yoongi, mainly because you all know he'll just say 'no.' What's the point?

A fierce battle of rock-paper-scissors had been fought earlier that evening, and you'd been the poor sod declared as the loser.

Already half a bottle down, they're drinking in Jungkook's studio (even if Hoseok strictly forbode it the last time they got legless at work (as if his orders have ever stopped them from doing anything they wanted)) when you finally meet them again.

They're getting a headstart on the evening's festivities.

It's nothing special. Just a chance for them all to hang out properly after the Seoul shows.

They rarely ever 'hang out', 'cause work often feels like that anyway. It's only when they take a break that they realise how much they enjoy each other's company. A few days rest from one another is always welcome - but exceed three days, and they start to get withdrawal symptoms.

"Ready to go?" You ask, but are met with curt shakes of their heads.

Jimin passes you the bottle of beer he's been nursing on. As you take a swig, he reminds you, "You've not asked Yoongi yet."

Lips pressed to the rim of the bottle, you roll your eyes. Have half a mind to backwash in retaliation, but you don't fancy bickering this early on in the night.

Shaking your head, you swallow down the froth. "He'll say no."

"Buuuuut," Jungkook sings, as if he thinks he can serenade you into asking Yoongi. "What if he says yes?"

"Well, one of you can ask!" You whine. Yoongi's studio is the last place you want to go to - especially after the messages he sent you last night, warning you about your relationship with Jungkook. "Give him your doe eyes, Kook. It'll work."

A game of rock, paper, scissors is legally binding, though. Jungkook tells you so. Says if you don't go and ask Yoongi, he'll be forced to take you to court.

"I've got Big Hit lawyers," he reminds you.

"Is this a threat?!"

"Yep. Now go ask Yoongi!"

You argue a little longer. Jimin takes two shots during that time. Jungkook interpretive dances whenever you make a compelling statement as to why you shouldn't be the one asking. You frown whenever he does the robot.

And so, mainly to get away from any more of Jungkook's bizarre hip-gyrations, you traipse down to the end of the corridor, where Yoongi's so-called Genius Lab resides.

The wait at his door is awkward. You question yourself, what you'll say, how you should stand. First impressions are everything, and if he's greeted with shitty energy, he'll give it back in return. You know him well enough to know this for a fact.

After a lifetime of waiting (27 seconds, to be exact), there's a mechanical whir of the lock coming undone.

"Hey," you offer a smile as you're greeted with his typical face of thunder. "Been sent to retrieve you. We're going out tonight. All of us."

He knows the plans. Is in the group chat. Ignored the messages for a reason.

His stare is a little frosty but not unkind. Just uninterested. "Can't."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both?"

You might be deluding yourself, but you think he smiles slightly when he says that.

"Ah, but you can and you will go to the ball, Cinders," you joke, giving him a small curtsy. "All work no play makes Yoongi a dull boy."

You're joking, but you believe it. He's been miserable the last few months. Keeps himself hauled up in his studio when they're not on the road, and avoids social interaction like the plague. It maddens you. How is he gonna write songs about life and the importance of living one, if he won't let himself do the same?

He's hard to read as he sighs, and pinches the bridge of his nose. Shakes his head, then opens his door a little wider. Encourages you into his space.

A candle burns on his desk, faintly vanilla in its scent, making it feel far cosier than actually is. The room is sullen; dark greys and little else. In fact, it surprises you he's gone for such a pretty cream candle. LED lights that are hidden in the walls glow a deep blue, and it's no wonder he's so miserable. There's no passion in his little pit. No life. Just him, some screens, and the whir of computer fans.

"Will you give something a listen?" He asks, quite clearly seeing you as a last resort - but when you hit rock bottom, the only direction you can go in is up. He knows you're not musical, not like Jin, but perhaps he needs the ear of a consumer, not a creator. "Been wracking my brain trying to think of what this needs. Have listened to it so many times that nothing sounds right anymore. I just- Could you?" He pauses. Looks quite uncomfortable when he adds, "Please?"

You assume the file up on the central screen is the song he's been working on with Jungkook, so you oblige. Kick your shoes off and leave them by the mat. It's been a while since you've been given the luxury of access to the Genius Lab. You used to know the code.

Things with Yoongi used to be different, though.

Not much has changed within his four dark walls since then. He's gained a new painted canvas in the corner of the room, stacked behind the existing ones. It's deep navy blue. Sort of like him, you think. The blue continues. Illuminates his work area. No wonder he never sleeps. The mood lighting is cold. Alert. Is bound to fuck with his brain.

There are more speakers than you can fathom, and switchboards you can't even begin to understand. The programs that Yoongi's running on his computers are familiar, though. You've seen them enough times to get a rough idea of the composition. Can see tabs labelled for Jin's vocals.

Yoongi turns his chair as the door clicks shut, automatic lock whirring into place. There was a time when that sound would have excited you. Not for any lewd, scandalous reason - just for the fact there used to be a time, many moons ago, when you thought Min Yoongi was the hottest man to have ever graced the earth.

And can you blame yourself?

His midnight hair gracefully frames his face, perfectly waved, dark eyes stark against his pale complexion. His skin is dewy, cheeks a little puffy from his lack of sleep and the fact all he has in his system is an iced americano and blue Powerade - yet still, his features are sharp. A white shirt hangs off his broad shoulders, dainty bracelets sitting on his pretty wrists.

Every bit the heartthrob, he's only gotten better with age - but you've grown up, too. Are wiser now. Understand that devastatingly handsome men will always inevitably devastate you, too.

It's for that reason Min Yoongi doesn't bother you in the same ways that he used to. That, and the night that never was.

As you said, devastatingly handsome men will only ever devastate you, too. He's proven that point already.

He points to his chair. "Sit."

The way he's so demanding with his tone annoys you. You shake your head. Choose to stand. "It's cool. Just play the song."

You don't mean to be so sharp. So curt. You're just thinking about how unbearable he's been recently - especially last night. He'd left you on read. Obviously wasn't happy with your response, not that you care.

"Please don't be difficult," he says softly. "Just sit so you can listen properly."

Why your stature could possibly impact your ears and their ability to listen, you'll never know - but you don't argue. As much as Yoongi's contempt for you these days annoys you, you don't want to make it any worse than it already is.

The leather of his chair is warm from his perch. Kind of nice how despite his cool demeanour, he's always a little toasty. He brings the heat of Daegu with him wherever he goes.

"I'm all ears," you tell him, and watch as he presses down on the play button.

"It's not the full song," he says over the melody of an upbeat track. "You'll know the bit I mean though. It's like, not bad, but-"

"Yoongi, shush," you smile, making sure you catch his eye as you do so. Don't want him to think you're snapping. You just wanna hear the sections he's uncertain about in context with the rest of the song.

Quiet as the track begins to echo out, there's an uncharacteristically quaint piano faintly guiding the track. You know he plays, but it's rare for it to be a focal part of the songs he creates.

You understand immediately which section Yoongi's having trouble with - not because it sounds bad, just because the drop before the final chorus doesn't hit quite right. It builds and builds but the arrival at the final chorus is underwhelming.

"Rewind it a bit," you say, wanting to hear it again. Confirm that it's the right part.

Yoongi does as you ask, leaning over you slightly, and says, "Somethings off, right?"

Nodding, you listen for a third time. "Take away the guitar," you say.

He does. It's better, but still not right.

"Maybe you've overcomplicated it?" you muse, thinking that he needs to strip it back entirely, but not wanting to offend him.

"Hmm," he hums. "You think?"

He mutes a few more layers on the track. Plays it again. It's getting there.

"Better, right?" you ask.

He nods as he stands up straight, listening to it over again. Frowns. "Still not quite there."

"I think it might benefit from some distance," you suggest. "Come out with us tonight. Get your mind off this track. Might even get some inspiration."

Shaking his head, he watches as you stand and head towards the door. He's not been out with you since the night that never was. Doesn't enjoy the prospect of risking it all after a couple of drinks inevitably turns into a couple of bottles again - of which he knows it will. If you and Jimin are together, it will be messy. Just how it goes. Throw Jungkook and Tae into the mix? Disaster waiting to happen.

"Look," you sigh. "I know it's not really your thing - but the rest of the boys are game. They all want you there. Just think about it, okay?"

He purses his lips together. Smiles, and turns to face his computer screen once more. "Thanks for your help."

And just like that, you're dismissed. Considering the way he'd messaged you about Jungkook the day before, it went pretty well, you think. Try not to dwell on the fact he couldn't be less interested even if he tried.

It's funny, 'cause as Yoongi stews in his chair, rocking ever so gently, he sighs. Shakes his head. Grumbles to himself quietly: "'they all want you there'... but do you want me there?"

The boys aren't so disappointed when you return with no Yoongi behind you. They all knew what his answer would be, and only sent you so they didn't have to deal with his rejection.

"Took your time," Jimin notes.

You shrug. Deadpan. "Yeah, sorry, got distracted. Too busy shagging him."

"Really?!"

"No, of course not," you laugh, as if it's the funniest suggestion in the world. You sort of think it is. "Nah, he just wouldn't be convinced."

And so it comes as a surprise to everyone when Yoongi shows up at Jimin's place a couple of hours later with a bottle of whisky in hand.

"Shut the fuck up," is all he says as he walks into an absolute commotion, practically everyone in the room elated by his decision to join in. He hides his smile poorly, occasionally letting his teeth show despite his protests.

From the sofa, you catch his eye. Nod. He bunches up his face a little. Nods back - but is quickly distracted by Jimin holding up a clear shot glass filled with fuck knows what. You, too, find yourself distracted by chatter with the rest of the boys and a couple of the girls from the artist liaison team.

In the corner of the room, your phone is plugged into a charger. It's been there since you arrived. You've no need to check it - but you can never leave it too long.

You smile, butterflies kissing your tummy and making their way through your body when you eventually check it.

D4m0cl3s: got a work thing tonight, so probably won't be able to message much gonna be thinkin' about u tho don't miss me too much, clemmie x

The smile is hard to hide. You blame it on the alcohol.

Kind of like how Yoongi smiles half an hour later when he checks his own phone.

Cl3m3ntin3: been a busy bee today, sorry :( all work, no play? :( it'll make you dull, damocles boy x

But then he watches you as you laugh with Jungkook about something trivial. Reads over his messages again. Shakes his head.

Remembers you trying to convince him to join for the evening. How you'd called him Cinders. Told him that all work and no play made him dull.

His heart thuds in his chest. He swallows harshly. Pours a whisky. Swallows that, too.

Breathes a sigh of relief as he taps through a message - 'it's a play thing for work. promise i'll behave x' - and watches your phone after it's marked as 'delivered' in his chat feed.

Your phone is screen-up on the kitchen counter, just within his line of vision. It doesn't light up. Doesn't vibrate. Receives no message.

"Thank fuck," he mumbles, the sinking feeling in his chest lifting as he grabs a fresh whisky.

He quickly walks away from the scene of a crime that never was. Sort of like the night that never was. Is so pleased, in fact, that he's happy to sit beside you on the sofa as Jungkook sets up a drinking game with Jin.

Silly, really, how a few drinks seem to make him forget the concept of 'do not disturb' mode.

"Hey," you smile and he comes to sit down. "Glad you made it."

"Me too," he nods, lips thin, chin dimpling as a shy smile graces his face. He's a little whisky tipsy. Doesn't feel the need to keep such a strict distance from you, now.

"To a good night," you raise your glass to him, and he reciprocates. Clinks them together.

"To a good night."

STAIRWAY BAR Itaewon-ro, Yongsan-Gu

♪ // You First (Re: Remi Wolf)- Paramore

"You're never gonna be this young and this hot again," Jimin slurs after a few too many lemon drops. It's his third time making this point, because it's the third time you've shooed away a guy trying to make a move on you.

They've all been perfectly fine. Nice enough guys, you're sure, but you aren't interested in random hookups. The night really isn't about that. All you want to do is let your hair down with the boys you've known for most of your life.

As Jimin whines about the fact no one is ready to move onto a club yet, bored of the bar, part of you considers the novel idea that one of the men in your rejection pile could have been your Damocles boy. A funny thing to think about, really. He did say he was busy tonight. Said it was for work, but everyone knows how rowdy work dinners can get after the boss leaves.

He could be here. Could have his tail between his legs. Could be looking at you right now, without a clue.

The reality of that wouldn't please you, for it would mean he's out there searching for other women.

While he'd be well within his right to, you selfishly find that that you don't want him to. In fact, all you wanna do is send him a message. Let him know you're thinking of him. That you wish you were at home right now, alone in your sheets with nothing but an internet connection and that damn app to keep you company.

You're with friends, though. Can't open the app without fear of endless ridicule - and not to mention the fact your brother is with you. Not worth it.

As you come to join them, a fresh drink in your hand, you're easily distracted. Are brought back to reality by your favourite people. Neon lights on the ceiling, and relics of time spent in the bar pinned to the walls. Photobooth pictures, foreign currency. Life is embedded into the seams of this place, and it's reassuring, in a way. Makes your dependency on your Damocles boy a lot less intense. You can forget him. Live life. Neglect to check your phone.

"Objection!" Jungkook chimes, following you and Jimin to the corner booth of the bar where the rest of your friends sit. "Older women are, like, so hot. So damn hot. Damn." And then he's thinking to himself. Brows furrowed, pouty lips whistling out a hearty sigh as he shakes his head. Thinks about Jinyu. A couple of the older women at the record company. About Jimin's mother. Laughs. Nods. "Yeah, older women are where it's at."

Both of you look at him with an air of confusion, and yet neither of you question it.

"What did I miss?" Jin beams when he rejoins you, as a member of the bar staff follows him with a bottle of Ciroc resting in an ice bucket. Another staff member will soon bring you cans of drink to use as mixers, but you know damn well these boys will be shotting it down straight.

The bottle won't be on the house, but you know Jin will have charged it back to the company. Will get a bollocking from Hoseok the next time he's in the office. Doesn't care, cause he knows the band makes the record company more money than anyone else on the roster at the moment. The way he sees it, it's their money anyway.

"Jungkook's just declared his love for older ladies," Taehyung deadpans from the sofa opposite yours. "Nothing new."

"Better older than younger," Jin asserts, playfully pushing against your forehead as he walks past you and back to his seat.

As much as you're your own person, you're still his little sister, and the rest of his unruly group of friends will do well to remember that.

Jungkook snorts. Throws a smirk in your direction. "I can make exceptions."

"And I can get away with murder, Kook," Jin assures him - and he's probably right. As much as they like to play into the rock and roll lifestyle, they've got power. Fame. Something that hides them just as much as it projects them. "Don't even think about it."

There's laughter and chatter amongst everyone at such a declaration, but you can't help but wonder if a certain pair of eyes glanced your way upon hearing that.

It's not like Yoongi doesn't know Jin harbours such feelings. Told you the exact same thing, once: that Jin'd murder Jungkook if anything ever happened between the pair of you.

But you also remember what came next.

Even if it's never been spoken about since, you know that remembers, too. The way he refused to reply to your last text is testament to it.

See, he's been avoiding you since long before you got your little job with the company. Would turn down plans if you were in attendance. Declined invites to dinner, and bailed on drinks. Once you started working in such close proximity, it was harder to keep his distance, and so he built up walls.

They're steep, and they're topped with barbed wire. Impenetrable, or so it would seem.

Climbing has never been a strong point of yours, and scaling walls doesn't feel like a pastime you'd enjoy very much, so Yoongi's safe distance from you is kept. He's feline, in that way; how he'll stalk up trees and sit in amongst the branches, peering down at you. Out of reach, holding all the cards.

Flicking your eyes across to him, you find him embroiled in conversation with Namjoon. He's laughing, which admittedly does make you smile. It's been so long since you've been afforded the luxury of witnessing such a thing.

But you're torn from your thoughts by a sudden, sharp tug on your wrist, and don't even realise Jimin is dragging you out of your seat until you're already stumbling behind him. With a shrill yelp and soft giggle, you let him pull you to the stairs that lead up from the basement bar to the earthly realm above.

"C'mon," Jimin calls behind himself, as if you have any choice in the matter. He's got a death grip on you. You're coming along whether you like it or not. "The rest of them are being boring. I wanna dance."

"Maybe I was enjoying being boring!" You argue just for the sake of it, tapping at your pockets to make sure you've still got your phone with you. Not for any particular reason. Just to be safe. Totally not because you fear losing your only contact with your virtual lover. Nothing like that at all.

"Tough," Jimin asserts, not caring where you both end up just as long as there is a dancefloor and a dark corner.

It isn't for any sinister reason, but just because he isn't looking to be the life and soul of the party. His face isn't recognised in the same way that the other boys are, but it doesn't matter. He attracts attention regardless. Goes with the territory of having a face like his. Irresistible to men and women alike. You're yet to meet anyone who doesn't think he's the most beautiful man alive - though Jin certainly does take issue with such a title being awarded to anyone else but him.

But just like Jin, there's a magnetism about Jimin. Moths to a flame, the rest of the boys follow suit and head up towards the street. The entire area code is a cluster of bars and hole-in-the-wall food joints. It's made for this time of the night, when the clouds are shielding the eyes of the moon from all sorts of sin, just a few stray stars guiding the way.

Light pollution bleeds upwards and out. Even if you know the stars are there, you can't see them - and it's not like you get the chance to check either way, for Jimin's already pulling you down the stairs to another basement bar.

This one is larger - two stories. Quieter on the first floor, it's the second level where he wants to be.

A planner in both professional and personal life, even though he seems erratic and all out of order, Jimin has everything under control. Knows the managers of most (if not all) of the bars on this street. Called a favour in this afternoon for one of the downstairs booths, just adjacent to the dancefloor, to be roped off & reserved. Knew that some of the boys would, in his mind, be 'boring', but still wanted everyone together. It's the best of both worlds. He can dance, and they can talk, or whatever they wanna do.

♪ // Desert Eagle - Silica Gel

Min Yoongi doesn't dance. He drinks. He observes. He watches the debauchery unfold from a safe distance, much like he does with you. Sometimes - not always - he thinks. Ponders. Wonders if maybe he's wasting his time by not indulging in the same way other people do. If he's missing out. Considers perhaps his friends are right to revel in such mindless frivolities.

He doesn't debate his choices often, but as he gets comfortable in this new place, he can't help it. Thinks word must have gotten out about their planned attendance, 'cause he notices far more eyes on them than normal. Far more women vying for their attention. Men, too. Whether it be sex or status, their intrigue is always fuelled by something.

The rest of the boys revel in it.

Yoongi doesn't care for it - but there's a reputation to uphold. A brand image that being spotted in clubs and getting up to no good only helps. Seals them as the real deal. Gets them out of the bracket of 'posers' or manufactured, not that it really fuckin' matters.

There are two girls to each of them. Supply and demand. There aren't enough of The Scouts to go around, but people will share. Will take all they can get. Sharp eyeliner, pretty hair, the girls all have their wits about them, and it's potentially the worst part of it all - they're making the conscious, informed choice to lower themselves to a standard well beneath their worth.

The club stinks of sticky liquor and smoke, but beneath the veil they're all wearing the same perfume. Whatever's currently being marketed as 'irresistible' to men. Was vanilla a few years ago. Yoongi is certain it's something muskier now, but isn't sure what. Makes no difference to him.

There's only one perfume he knows he really likes, and has trained himself to despise it by association.

It's a shame that he hasn't trained himself to stop looking in your direction whenever he thinks of you. Is part of the reason he doesn't like drinking around you. Makes such stupid mistakes. His malevolent mask fails to hide him. The facade slips.

Tongue resting in the corner of his mouth, he doesn't realise he's staring. Eyes dark as they watch you with Jimin, Yoongi wonders if you've always had that tattoo just above your elbow. It's small, and dainty. Hard to make out from where he is, but when your arms are in the air, he's fixated on it. Thinks it must be new.

But then your arms drop to rest on Jimin's shoulders, and he's reminded of what you look like when you're all hot and bothered. Reminded of that night. The one that never was. Haunted by the rivulet of sweat that had trickled down your skin in a sauna that neither of you had any business being inside; just you and him in a silent descent into sin, and the smirk on your lips as his eyes had followed the droplet down your body.

His attention is yanked from you when an ice cube lands in his lap. Glacing across to the direction it came from as he pushes it to the floor, Yoongi scowls at Jungkook. "The fuck was that for?"

"Remember the rules," Jungkook smirks. "Look, but don't touch."

"Wasn't fuckin' looking," Yoongi sneers, completely ignorant of the women vying for his attention. "Was just thinking Jimin needs to to sober up. Man's a state. And unlike you, I wouldn't touch her if humanity depended on it."

"I'm a man of the people," Jungkook teases. "If repopulating the earth was my duty, I'd do it. Can't believe you wouldn't."

"She's got where she is today through sheer nepotism and audacity alone," Yoongi counters. "Doesn't have the kinda genes you'd wanna repopulate the earth with."

"Foul," Taehyung laughs. He's the only one of the boys without women hanging off him. Is stern and authoritative in his rejection of their advances; not yet married but wears a ring around his finger to let them know he's deadly serious. Landed himself in hot water a few months back after photos of him talking to a girl outside a bar - no matter how innocently - circulated online. A bad angle and misrepresentation of events had almost decimated the one thing he cares about more than the band: his relationship. Refuses to ever let it happen again. "Absolutely foul, Yoongi. You know you don't mean that."

"He just needs to get laid," Jungkook chimes in. "Has been celibate for so long he's forgotten how good sex is. Used to be a time he'd fuck anything willing with a pulse-"

It's not untrue. He was reckless in his youth - but aren't we all?

"Yeah, and then I grew up, Kook," Yoongi says with little to no emotion, getting to his feet. Taps his pocket to check for his phone, and then taps the other for his wallet. All there. "Should try it."

When Yoongi looks back up to the crowd, you're gone. He rolls his eyes. Shakes his head. Is almost mentally berating you, as if you've done something wrong - but you haven't, and he damn well knows it.

Perhaps that's the most frustrating part of it all: everything falls back on him. The awkwardness. The cold shoulders. The night that never was. If he would have just made more sensible choices back then, things could be easier now.

It's not that things are hard, as such - just that they aren't how they used to be. Rose-tinted glasses, and all that.

Over by the bar, there's a haze around you: clouded judgement, misted intentions.

The smallest things put a smile on your face, thanks to the alcohol in your veins. Could be the song that's already been played three times coming on yet again. Could be witnessing some random guy get pied by every single girl he approaches. Could be the way your vodka orange takes like juice. Anything and everything feels light. Airy. Breezy.

"What's so funny?" Some guy asks, leaning in a little closer to you - and just like that, your mood is soured. You're not here to make friends, but rather spend time with your pre-existing ones, and judging by the look on his face, he's hoping for a little more than friendship.

"Oh, nothing," you smile politely, crossing your arms over your chest as you angle your body away from his. Hope that he'll get the message.

He does. Just doesn't like it very much.

"No need to be a bitch," he sneers under his breath just loud enough for you to hear.

Normally, you'd leave it. Let him have his little tantrum. Be a big baby.

But you were in such a good mood, and you're annoyed that he's ruined it.

Wanna ruin his, too.

Snapping back to face him, you're about to launch into a tirade, but you come face-to-face with a chest that looks far too good in a simple T-shirt and find yourself faltering, instead.

Yoongi looks down at you, eyes dark, scowl ever-present. Says nothing. Just nods. You think he's asking if you're okay - so you nod back. Won't get into a debate over the fact you were perfectly fine, and have no issue asserting your boundaries with strangers.

Shoulders broad, the guy who had been bothering you is entirely eclipsed by Yoongi.

Glancing across to the bar staff, Yoongi nods. "Hibiki." Glances down at you. Checks the colour of your glass. It's obscured by the bar lights, but he knows it isn't dark enough to be coke, and remembers your order from before things got complicated. Figures some things haven't changed. Looks back towards the server. "Vodka Orange." Passes over his card. Says nothing to you. Just keeps his eyes on yours.

There's a subtle blush dusting his cheeks. The heat, you think. It's unnoticeable for the most part, but sometimes the lights hit him just right, and you're reminded of how warm he can be. How inviting.

He's always been impressive. Taller in sheer presence than he is in stature. Even back in high school, his nature was domineering. Respected. Lips gently parted, you're unable to move. Suddenly, nothing is funny anymore. It's heavy. Thick. Suffocating. You're deaf to the bass of the music that thumps through your body. Ignorant of the people moving around you.

But then Yoongi's being offered his card back, and Jimin bounds on into you like a lost puppy finally finding its owner.

"For me?!" Jimin exclaims as the drinks are slid across the bar, passing the vodka orange to you and picking up Yoongi's whisky for himself.

Shaking yourself from the shackles of Yoongi's stare, you look down. Realign your mind. Glance back over and nod a silent thank you - but then you turn and leave the drink by the bar. Head for the bathrooms. Refuse to look back, so utterly perplexed by what on earth just happened.

In a frank, factual recount of the events, Yoongi just stood beside you and ordered a drink.

In your hysterical, deluded mind, Yoongi just stood beside you and opened the skies; let a flood of water torrent down. Drowned everyone in the process save for you - except you're the one gasping now as you stare yourself out in the bathroom mirror.

Phone still on don't disturb, you pull it from your pocket and check just in case he's thinking of you.

Not Yoongi, no. You push him out of your mind. Think of your Damocles boy. He's the one you wished had joined you at the bar. The one you've been yearning for all night.

And sure enough, he has been thinking of you, too.

D4m0cl3s: there are some weirdos out and about tonight, clem keep yourself safe for me, okay?

It's strange, how guilt needlessly creeps in so silently that you don't even realise it's there until an invisible hand is over your mouth. You're suffocating again, or so it would seem. Drowning, maybe. Perhaps Yoongi wasn't saving you at all; he was dragging you down instead.

You wish you were at home. Wish you weren't so drunk. Wish you could think straight. Wish your balance was a little better - but it's not, and as you try and think of a response that goes beyond 'i miss you' or a 'you should be here', you stumble a little. Lose your footing. Grab onto the sink to stop yourself from falling over entirely, only to send your phone crashing to the floor.

"Fuck," you curse, scrambling down to get it, only to be greeted with a fracture splintering right over the top of your front camera. Pulling up the app, it's very quickly clear that the camera absolutely ruined - but for the most part, your screen is okay. "Fuck."

You think it's a sign: go home.

Even if you're drunk, and you're in the business to make some bad decisions, you know that your Damocles boy is right. There are some weirdos about tonight, and as fucked up as it all seems, 'safe' feels a lot like a message thread with a man you've never met.

Instead of replying to him, you open up your thread with Jimin. Let him know you're going home. Make your way up the stairs and out of the bar without looking back. It's rare for you to cry when you drink, but it kind of feels like you will now, and for no good reason. Just had a little too much, that's all.

The light around fades from the invasive red of the club into the murky blue hues of the streets.

And yet, there's a lovely little red flag waiting by the top of the stairs, unaware of your decision to head home, too.

"You leaving already?" You chirp in surprise upon realising who it is.

The sound of your voice, and the fact it's addressing him, seems to take Yoongi by surprise when he turns to face you.

"I, uh," he pauses. Looks down. Seems to be a little flustered. You wonder what's going inside that head of his, but when his eyes meet yours again, you decide you're better off not knowing. "Can't be home too late. I'm sorta seeing someone. Gotta get back for them."

"Oh," you say quietly.

I'm seeing someone.

"Yeah."

It's not like it matters, it's just that you never expected to hear him say those words. He's married to his music. Always has been. Spends his nights in the studio, not sleeping next to someone else.

Or perhaps he doesn't anymore. Just goes to show how little you know of his life these days.

"That's nice," you chirp, swallowing down your surprise. "Yeah. That's really nice, actually. I'm pleased for you."

In a way, it makes sense. Perhaps his strangeness lately has been less to do with you and more to do with himself and the fact he genuinely doesn't care about the past anymore. Thoughts of the night that never was are genuinely reserved for your brain, and your brain alone. Have no place in his. His warning about Jungkook was due to lessons learned by him.

"And you?" He asks, noticing the slight discomfort in your tone. He wouldn't normally entertain such frivolous conversations with you, but he's only human. Alcohol still gets him a little loose-lipped, too. "What's new in your love life?"

You laugh, now. Good fuckin' question. Genuinely don't know how to describe your Damocles boy, or if you even want to.

"Nothing new."

"No?"

"No," you smile in such a way that Yoongi knows you're not telling the whole truth - but who is he to pry?

"Well," he says, then coughs to clear his throat. Look out to the street ahead of you both. It's full of drunk revellers, and you're certain at least half of them will have The Scouts in their playlists. Yoongi's position in the band means he's never front and centre, so no one notices him like this. If they do, they're being incredibly discreet about it. "I'm sure you'll meet someone soon."

"Maybe," you shrug, knocking your shoulder against his arm. "Be easier if you didn't stand in front of every guy who shows an interest in me."

"It was one guy," he laughs, knowing not to take you too seriously. "And you know he was a creep. Was just standing in for your brother."

"Yeah," you nod, not caring to counter him, or to remind him how fucked up it is to refer to himself like that. Folding your arms over your chest, you're regretting the lack of a coat. Had left it back at pre-drinks, because a little bit of liquor and you suddenly think you're a child of the sun. "You're right. Thanks for that."

"No worries," Yoongi shrugs. Is about to offer you his jacket, when a taxi rolls up. "This yours?"

"Yeah," you nod, recognising the number plate from the taxi you'd ordered via an app when you'd been in the bathroom. "Want a lift?"

He shakes his head. "Gotta head to the studio first."

"Yoongi, you're drunk," you laugh. "What did I tell you about all work?"

"Yeah, yeah, dull boy," he laughs too - but it's not you he's thinking of as he recites it. It's the girl he's heading home for that enters his mind, and how she'd said something similar. Shaking his head, he's confused at how easily thoughts of her intertwine with how easy it can be to joke with you. Puts it down to the alcohol. His head's a mess. "Inspiration doesn't wait. Let Jimin or someone know when you're home."

"Get in the cab," you insist at his need to be difficult. "I'll route it past the studio. Inspiration doesn't wait," you imitate a little childishly, which does get him smiling. "Better to get to it quickly, no?"

He looks around. Looks a little uncomfortable. You don't take it personally. He looks like this a lot of the time around you. Even before it all got weird.

Eventually, he sighs. Relents.

"Route it to yours," he says. "I'll carry on to the studio."

"Studio is closer," you tell him, knocking your head to the side, pulling open the door. "C'mon. The driver will leave if you don't hurry up."

"And Jin'll kill me if you get stolen," he reminds you, as if that would be likely to happen. Even if the taxi driver was a creep, there are cameras everywhere in places like this. You're as safe as can be. "You first. Non-negotiable."

"You're a tough bargainer," you hum with narrowed eyes. He is at least here, and not walking in the cold. Would have to cross the river to get to the studio, and the thought of any of them drunkenly walking along it alone scares you. "Fine. But you better not get stolen, either. Twitter would have a meltdown- no, Twitter would kill me if you get stolen."

"Shut up," he laughs. Knows The Scouts have a fanbase that could scare even political leaders into submission, if they really wanted to. "They don't even know who you are."

But Yoongi is forgetting who your brother is. Forgetting that there's a good reason why Jungkook has 'look but don't touch' etched into his brain. Forgetting that there are Twitter accounts dedicated to posting updates from your socials, just for a glimpse of The Scouts.

And as you let silence simmer into the taxi, not caring to keep up a conversation, you're none the wiser that those exact fan accounts are currently screaming into the void.

The Yoongi-dedicated update accounts, too.

In fact, the entire app is on fire - and it's not gonna be an easy one to put out.

03:31AM

D4m0cl3s: you still out, clem?

Cl3m3ntin3: why? miss me?

D4m0cl3s: never

Cl3m3ntin3: hmmm well in that case, yes i am x

D4m0cl3s: i think you're lying you answered far too quickly

Cl3m3ntin3: i think you should just admit that you miss me and u just caught me at a good time :/

D4m0cl3s: but i don't? and ur nose must be soooooo big pinocchio

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah you do you've missed me sooooo much tonight, havent you? bet you've been all mopey just thinking about me aaaaaaall night me & my proportionally sized nose x

D4m0cl3s: dunno what you mean

Cl3m3ntin3: well, are you home?

D4m0cl3s: almost

Cl3m3ntin3: not even home yet and already texting me... but you don't miss me? you're lucky you've got such a nice cock i wouldn't let your lies slide so easily if you didn't

D4m0cl3s: so you're only with me for my cock?

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm not with you

D4m0cl3s: ouch noted

Cl3m3ntin3: you're the one who refuses to have me, remember?

D4m0cl3s: you know it's not like that, clem

Cl3m3ntin3: i know, babe i'm just fucking with you figuratively (sadly) i'm with friends though - i'll let you know when i'm alone, alright?

D4m0cl3s: don't worry about me enjoy your night trouble message me in the morning, yeah?

Cl3m3ntin3: if this is a ploy to make me message you first, it wont work

D4m0cl3s: finei 'll message you

Cl3m3ntin3: keen

D4m0cl3s: you love it

Cl3m3ntin3: suuuure i do

D4m0cl3s: stay safe, babe drink water before bed

Cl3m3ntin3: you wanna drink some clementine juice before bed?

D4m0cl3s: i dont think they make clementine juice and no you know the rules sleep off the alcohol first then send me pictures of that gorgeous cunt in the morning, yeah?

Cl3m3ntin3: and what will i get in return?

D4m0cl3s: the video i've just taken of myself stroking my big hard cock just for you

Cl3m3ntin3: fuck send it now? pls x

D4m0cl3s: keen and no x

Cl3m3ntin3: c'monnnn :(

D4m0cl3s: in the morning, baby just know that i'm a little drunk but so fuckin' hard

Cl3m3ntin3: no whiskey dick? i'm impressed

D4m0cl3s: i'm thinking about you nothing will ever stop me from getting hard when im thinking about you

Cl3m3ntin3: watcha thinkin about? gimmie specifics x i wanna touch myself

D4m0cl3s: that pretty cunt of yours how fuckin' wet you get god i wanna fuck you nice and slow NO FUCK STOP TEMPTING ME YOU SIREN

Cl3m3ntin3: 🙁

D4m0cl3s: in the morning

Cl3m3ntin3: you promise?

D4m0cl3s: i promise, baby go spend time with your friends message me if you need anything

Cl3m3ntin3: your dick?

D4m0cl3s: anything other than that you'll get it in the morning, clemmie promise x

D4m0cl3s is offline

GENIUS LAB Big Hit Ent, Yongsan-gu

"All good?" Yoongi hums as the door to his studio clicks shut.

He'd left the door on the latch so you could get back in when you went to the bathroom. Could have just given you the code, but he didn't want you to think he'd be making a habit of this. It's a limited-time offer. Not one that can be redeemed whenever you like. It's now, and now only.

"Yeah, yeah," you nod, pulling on the back of the spare desk chair Yoongi had rolled up beside his. You don't look at him, just at the screens as you tell a little white lie. "Just let Jimin know I was okay."

Yoongi grunts some sort of agreement, but doesn't vocalise a response as such.

It's not like a complete subversion of the truth. A text has been sent to your group chat. The one with just Jungkook and Jimin. No one else needs to know your business, as far as you're concerned.

It's just that a few more texts have been sent to your Damocles boy—but that's none of Yoongi's business. You're sure he wouldn't care to know.

You're also sure he's regretting the request for help bestowed upon you on the ride back. He'd mentioned the song he was going to work on, and you'd offered to lend an ear again.

It's not an unheard-of thing. There are a couple of tracks on the last album that have been tweaked as a result of your ear, including their biggest single. You're not listed in the credits, but you never asked to be. Was just helping out a friend—even if said friend then decided to become an asshole when they started making a name for themselves.

You're tipsy, and so is Yoongi. It's easier to forget how fraught things have become when you're like this. You wouldn't be here right now if you hadn't had a few too many drinks.

You also probably wouldn't be trending all over twitter, but you're still blissfully unaware of this.

"Same track as before, right?" You ask, kicking your shoes off to get a little more comfortable on the chair.

Again, words fail Yoongi. You're forced to decipher his small noises, 'cause it's all he tends to offer you. It's not like it's a uniquely you issue—the boys have learned to speak in Yoongi-code, too.

"Okay, play it from the start," you tell him. "Show me what we're working with."

There's a cautious nature to the way Yoongi works. So preoccupied with creating perfection, he hates letting people hear his work before it's reached his self-imposed arbitrary standards. There's only a very small circle who gets the privilege of seeing how his brain works.

Despite his ever-present disdain for you, it seems like you're one of the lucky few. He'll never acknowledge this. Never admit that he favours your opinions, because he genuinely doesn't think he does.

You're frank with him. Will tell him how it is. Don't sugarcoat it. Aren't seeking his approval, so don't care to lick his ass just to keep him happy—not that he ever wants you to lick his ass. Could think of nothing worse. Not because he isn't into it, but because the thought of being with you repulses him in a way he can't quite describe. Even thinking about it makes him shudder.

But maybe that's the issue. Maybe the shudder is indicative of something else entirely.

"Yoongi?" You ask, drawing him from his thoughts. The song has finished, but he doesn't even really recall listening to it at all.

"Hm?" He hums. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"The lyrics," you say. "What's the song about? 'Cause at the moment, musically, it sounds like a heartbreak song and love song all at the same time, and I think that's what's confusing about it. It can't decide what it wants to be."

Yoongi frowns.

"It's not really either," he supposes.

In the dim lighting of his studio, Yoongi is at his very best. Focused, he's shrewd in his astute calculations. Can put together different sounds and construct melodies you wouldn't even be able to dream of. For all of his issues, there is one undeniable truth: the man is a musical genius.

It's why this is all so perplexing to him. He hates not knowing how to make things right. This is his job. It's what he excels at—and yet he's failing.

"Well, what's it about?" You softly ask, turning to look at him. "Do you have the lyrics?"

Guard clearly up, the way Yoongi looks at you is puzzling. Whatever he's written isn't something that he wants to share.

"What?" you laugh, trying to not make a big deal of things. You know how quickly he closes up, and can already sense it happening. "You told me you're seeing someone, remember? God forbid you accidentally expose the fact you're a human being with real feelings."

You half think he might smile.

He doesn't.

Instead, he reaches across his desk for a small black notebook. A little weathered, it's clearly seen a lot of thoughts in the past. The leather of the cover is tarnished, and there's a faded sticker from some instrument brand wrapping around the spine.

"Just don't ask any fuckin' questions," he grumbles.

Rolling your eyes, you gladly accept the book. Tuck your thumb between the pages where a natural divide occurs. It's testament to how long Yoongi has spent agonising over the same words.

His handwriting never changes much. Always messy. Always hard to decipher.

Or at least, it's hard for other people. You've never found it to be too taxing.

What's curious this time are the little doodles on the page. Blossoms and small fruits.

"Cherries?" You ask, chirping with a little curiosity. It's hard to work out exactly what they are, but cherries seem like the most likely thing.

Yoongi just grunts.

Getting anything from him is like getting blood from a stone.

"How the fuck do you have a functioning relationship?" You mutter, casting your eyes back down to his words. The way he refuses to converse with you is infuriating.

"I said no questions," he curtly reminds you.

The way you roll your eyes this time is far less kind. Tossing the book back down on the desk, you reach for your shoes and get to your feet without a word.

"Where are you going?"

"Home," you tell him, as your hand reaches for the door handle. "You asked me for help, Yoongi—but I can't do jack shit if you won't let me."

"Yeah, well, I didn't ask for critique on my relationship, did I?" He snaps back. Feels his skin get all hot. Clammy. Relationship. That's not how he'd define what he's got going on. He doesn't know why he did call it that. Doesn't know why he didn't just ignore you, when you're clearly trying to wind him up.

"You're impossible," you tell him, patience thin. The alcohol made it easier to be friendly with him, but it also makes it easier to fight, too.

"And you're unbearable!"

"Me?!" You say with such offense it almost surprises Yoongi. Turning around to fully face him, you let go of the the door handle. Let it whisper shut, the lock softly clicking into place. You're willingly trapped in the confines of his studio. Could just leave. Instead, you choose to fight. "Oh, you have some fucking nerve—"

"I thought you were going?" He cuts you off, responding to your change in position by getting to his feet too. He's not one for confrontation, but there's something about you that just gets under his skin. Makes him wanna fight right back. "So why don't you just fuckin' go?"

"I am," you assure him. You should have known that this would end in disaster. "But maybe if you channelled some of this pent-up frustration into your music, maybe you'd actually get somewhere."

"I don't need you telling me how to do my job," he sneers. "If you hadn't noticed, I'm doing perfectly fine without your unsolicited advice."

Unbelievable. Was he not the one who asked for your help? Repeatedly?

"Holy shit," you scornfully laugh. "Listen to yourself, you deluded prick! You asked—"

"Yeah, well if you didn't insist on sticking your big fuckin' Pinnochio nose into everything—"

"My big nose?! Oh, you are such an asshole."

"You're no fuckin' daisy, either," he snaps. Doesn't even really know why he's being so rude. Just knows he doesn't want to back down. Doesn't wanna let you win. "Just do us all a favour and quit before the tour. No one wants you there."

It's never been a secret that Yoongi harbours contempt for the way in which you got your jobs, but you know damn well that you've proven your worth. If it was anyone else saying these words, you'd probably be offended.

Instead, you just shake your head. Laugh. Walk a little closer just to piss him off. Encroach upon his personal space.

"Tell me, Yoongi," you say quietly, picking off a little dust from his shirt just to see how he reacts. To your surprise, he lets you. Just looks down at you. Watches to see what you'll do next. Eyes flicking up to his, the air between you is frightfully thin. "If I quit, how would you explain it to Jin? Hmm? Would you tell him the way you speak to me?"

"I've got nothing to hide," Yoongi replies just as quietly. There's an intimacy to be found somewhere hidden between your mutual disdain and heated anger. The kind of coldness that can only come from someone you once knew to be warm. "He knows you're a piece of work."

This does make you laugh. "Nothing to hide, huh?"

"Nothing," he says. His jaw is tense, and his eyes are even more so. "Nothing happened that night."

"Yoongi, I didn't even mention that night," you remind him with a smirk, pleased at your ability to get under his skin.

That night has lingered with you both: the scent of damp cedar wood and the sensation of sweltering heat against your clammy skin. It's not the kind of thing you forget, even if you never speak of it. Not with Jimin, not with Jungkook, and especially not with Yoongi.

"Just get out of my studio," he growls, eyes centred on yours. He's unwavering in the way that he stares you out; unashamed and uncompromising.

"Gladly," you say as you pull away from him.

You're not gonna beg him to be cordial with you. This atmosphere is a product of his own creation, and as miserable as it is, he's gonna have to be the one to fix it. Both as stubborn as one another, you know damn well it's gonna stay like for a while.

The door slams shut. No amount of soundproofing can obscure the way Yoongi curses into the void left by you.

But right on time, as you reach the door that leads out onto the street, your phone vibrates in your pocket. It's a little longer than the vibration of your other apps, so you know exactly what it is. Who it is. Solace is found in the form of notifications from him. Satisfaction, too.

D4m0cl3s: fuck it i need you, now, clem

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

end of part two

#yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #rockstar!yoongi #yoongi fluff #bangtan ff #bts x reader #yoongi masterlist #yoongi x reader #yoongi ff #rockstar!bts #dappleddaisies #byholly #dating app au #rockstar au #myg x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut

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coupsie-daisies · 8 months ago

Text

Kinktober '23: Thigh Riding | Lee Jihoon

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut (minors DO NOT interact), canon compliant if that's an issue

Summary: When Pledis brought in another producer to help with Woozi's workload, his ability to focus began to wane. Luckily for him, she noticed it too.

WC: 2k

Warnings: thigh riding, woozi is kinda talkative, praise, explicit kissing, titty sucking, woozi feels like a pervert but he doesn't really act like it

A/N: Dinner is served, eat well. Also check out my donations and commissions here, and consider reblogging them for me

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18 // @decaffedthoughts // @brownieracha // @ferrethyun // @walkxthexmoon // @aesteraceae // @wonuqrtz // @mixling-blog // @wonwooz1-blog

Main Masterlist

Kinktober '23 Masterlist

This fanfiction is property of @/coupsie-daisies, reposting on any platform is prohibited

Jihoon tried harder than anyone knew to be a kind, respectable, dependable, respectable person. And, generally speaking, people thought he did a good job. He knew he was a workaholic, spent too much time cooped up in his studio working on songs for his group, for other musicians, for nobody but himself, but his studio was one of the only places that Jihoon generally felt he was at his best. He was good at that, good at making music that made people feel things, that told a story. He was proud of that.

So he was especially proud when he was introduced to you, all bright eyed and bushy tailed as you were introduced as a new producer working under Pledis entertainment. It meant the two of you would work closely together. He knew that part of the reason you'd been hired was to help take some of the stress off of him. So it was hard not to appreciate your presence in his place of solitude.

You were so sickeningly sweet sometimes, doting on him and the members, coming with snacks or full meals or even just coffees in hand - though when you brought him coffee, you also brought him a bottle of water, insisting that hydration was just as important as caffeination. He probably would have been annoyed if it was anyone else, but Jihoon found it incredibly difficult to be annoyed with you.

Maybe the best part of having you work with him was that you were an amazing producer. He was amazed to find out that you hadn't produced for any big name artists yet, that you yourself had been shocked at being hired by Pledis, applying on a whim. You challenged his ideas, managing to bring out the best creations he thought he'd ever made, and you bounced ideas off of him so easily. Most of all, he was enamored with the way that you understood him, you got the way his brain worked, the way he created.

An album later and the two of you were an inseparable team. Which, unfortunately for Jihoon, was beginning to threaten his kind, respectable nature. Because there you were in his studio, the lights casting glows across your skin, across your exposed collarbones and your pretty, soft face, and your hair was pulled back into a ponytail that he was becoming desperate to wrap his hand in. Because as much as he wanted to be a good person, you brought out a downright perverted side of him. He'd been struggling for weeks as the two of you worked on writing a song for another artist together. He'd become too aware of the way you tapped your pen against your pretty lips, and the way that you whined when you stretched your back, and the way that your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you got frustrated with your work.

"Hoon?" You asked, waving a hand in front of his face. He blinked, suddenly very aware of how close you were, that he could smell the honey and cinnamon shampoo you used, and that he could see straight down the front of your shirt where your tits were pushed together. Oh, and the way that his cock was twitching to life, beginning to fill out in his sweatpants. He cleared his throat, eyes snapping up to yours. "What's going on in your head? You haven't heard a word of what I said."

He opened his mouth, finding himself at a loss for words because, honestly, he couldn't even explain what was going on in his head if he wanted to. He shook his head, moving his chair a little further from you and turning back to the track he'd been working on.

"Nothing, just tired."

"You should rest, we've been here all day. Take a nap, I'll order some food," You said, standing up to nudge him towards the couch. He shook his head, shrugging your hand off his shoulder. You pouted, grabbing his chair instead and spinning him around. He felt a wave of panic wash through him, fully aware of how achingly hard he was now that he was exposed to you.

"Seriously, I'm fine. Don't worry so much. Let's just finish this." He said, face beginning to warm. You narrowed your eyes at him, scanning his face. "Y/N,"

"What?"

"Stop looking at me like that." He said, voice tight and dropping lower than you'd heard it. You suppressed a shiver.

"Like what?" You asked him, but of course you knew. You'd been trying to push him to stop staring at you and actually make a move for months now, but he was so goddamn respectful, so absolutely devoted to being kind that he was willing to overlook every blatantly flirty remark and too-intimate touch.

"Like you want me to do something we'll both regret." He said, clenching his jaw. You leaned closer, one of yours hands moving slowly up the length of his arm, over the muscle of his shoulder, down the slope of his chest. So, so slowly that every second felt like it was a hundred heartbeats long when that's all that Jihoon could hear rushing in his ears.

"Who says I'll regret anything?" You asked, voice hardly above a whisper, and your eyes baring down on his. He fought the urge to kiss you, to pull you closer to him and say fuck all the rules and regulations. He choked back the burning desire that you were so willingly stoking.

"Y/N,"

"Would you regret it?" You asked him, reaching up to tip his chin up, dipping your head closer until you could feel his shaky breath against your cheek. "Tell me you don't want to touch me. Say it and we act like this never happened."

You gave him a beat, and then another. The tension drew tight as neither of you said anything. He watched you as you watched the slow parting of his lips, then watched them press back together in silence. You leaned in, pressing your lips to his and melting into the taste of him.

Instantly his hands found your waist, pulling you down onto his lap. You didn't break the kiss as you adjusted to straddle him in the chair, pressing yourself firmly against him as he pulled you closer. His tongue prodded against the seam of your lips, eagerly being welcomed inside. He tasted of soda and chewing gum, and you were addicted to it. Your hands found his hair, long enough now for him to tie up - not that he usually did unless he was deep in a track.

"Jihoon," You whined when he pulled away, bottom lip jutting out in a dramatic pout at the loss of his kiss. He hummed in response, mouth finding your jaw and leaving slow, warm kisses down the curve of it. You inhaled softly, your complaints dying on your tongue. He nipped at your pulsepoint, dragging his tongue over it before moving on to mark your skin just above the neckline of your shirt.

You pulled away, tugging the fabric over your head and tossing it onto your chair. He sighed at the sight of you bared for him, hands moving up your sides, higher to cup your breasts over the thin fabric of your bra. He swore he could look at you like this all day, memorize every scar and stretch mark and dip of your body. You, on the other hand, weren't half as patient. You reached behind you, unhooking your bra and letting it slide down your arms. Jihoon took it upon himself to discard the useless piece of fabric, dipping his head to kiss along the curve of your tits.

"Take these off, too." He said, pushing at the waistband of your sweatpants. You stood up, pushing them down your legs and kicking them aside before settling yourself on his lap again. He shifted your weight, settling you over one of his thighs, his shorts exposing enough skin that the only thing keeping him from the warmth of your core was the flimsy pair of panties you had on.

Jihoon cursed, feeling the way your hole leaked over his leg, soaking the fabric of your underwear.

"Need me so bad, don't you?" He asked, returning diligently to his self-appointed task of kissing over every inch of your chest. You nodded, words lost when his warm mouth wrapped around one of your nipples. Your hips rocked into the firm muscle of his thigh, desperate for any ounce of stimulation other than helplessly clenching your walls around nothing.

He gripped your hips tight, and you assumed it was to stop you from seeking your pleasure, but instead he pressed you harder into his thigh, tensing the muscles underneath you to perfectly drag against your clit. He teased his teeth over your nipple at the same time, and you closed your eyes. One of your hands returned to his hair, the other gripping at his shoulder to keep your balance.

With a steady, demanding hand, he guided you to grind against his thigh. You chewed on your lip, trying to keep your wits about you as you fucked yourself on his thigh. You didn't want to seem as desperate as your body was, but your dripping hole was giving you away, leaving a puddle of your arousal on his skin that he was a little bit addicted to.

"Let me hear you," He demanded, pulling his head away from your tits, and looking up into your eyes. Your stomach twisted and fluttered at the depth of his voice. You shook your head a little, nervous to be too loud despite the studio being soundproofed for production purposes. But Jihoon was having none of it.

He tugged your lip from between your teeth, hooking his thumb into your mouth and holding your face steady, eyes on him and body feeling too warm under his attention. His other hand didn't let up, still pushing and pulling you against him and rutting you down against him like a bitch in heat.

You whined, the sound coming out loud and clear and earning a satisfied look from Jihoon underneath you.

"Good girl," He praised, and your walls crumbled around you, every inhibition slipping out of your mind as you gave him more of what he wanted. He watched the way you followed his lead, half sucking on his thumb and half moaning around it as he got you off without hardly touching you at all.

"Please, need more." You mumbled, words slurred around his digit. He pulled it out, a trail of saliva smearing against your chin.

"No you don't, baby. You can cum like this. Try harder." He pushed you, using his spit-slicked thumb to play with your hardened nipples, circling over each one slowly, then the other, then back again while you chased your high. The burn in your thighs was getting to you, and your clit was throbbing with the desperate need to cum, to be full of him, but instead all you were getting was the grating stimulation of his leg against your clothed cunt.

You dropped your head against his shoulder, clinging to him and chasing the feeling of relief. He hummed, kissing the side of your head and bouncing his leg up against you, watching the way you shuddered in his arms at the stimulation.

"C'mon, know you can do it. Cum on my thigh like this and I'll fuck you. That's what you want, right? Just gotta cum first." He coaxed in your ear, and the sound of his voice sent you spiraling. You weren't even sure if it was his words or the way you were humping him, but your orgasm hit you like a train, knocking your breath out of you with a broken moan.

He slowed your hips down, letting you ride out your high and feeling the way you were literally dripping against him, warm and wet where your core was still fluttering against his thigh. He turned your head to press a kiss to your lips, this one much more gentle than the last.

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" He cooed, a proud glint in his eyes. You made it damn hard to be a respectable man when you looked so easy to ruin in his arms. But luckily for him, you didn't care about him being respectable, you just wanted him to take you the way you both wanted. The way you both would definitely not be regretting.

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proton-wobbler · 27 days ago

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Great Backyard Bird Off - Australia (poll 3)

Bird Info & Submission Reasons

Australian Magpie (Gymnorhina ribicen)

"Certified madlads. Absolute fluff balls. Stupidly intelligent, steals my coat hangers every year to nest, shows me the babies in a row and drops them off at my trampoline for free childcare. I’ve walked in on them in the strangest positions sunbathing on a brick wall in my house. Anyways I love them"

"Beautiful singers, horrifically violent"

"You think Canada geese are scary? They might be bigger than maggies, but at least they generally stay on the ground and you can see them coming! In nesting season (spring), every cyclist across Australia knows to beware these swooping birds, lest they take out your eye or knock you off your bike. (They swoop people walking too, but generally focus on cyclists). Seriously, people put zipties on their bike helmets, long end sticking up, specifically so that the magpie runs into the plastic and flies off instead of bashing straight into their heads. After being swooped, I have lain awake at night and fantasised about snatching the magpie out of the air and crushing it to death with my bare hands... All that aside, though, magpies are an intelligent and iconic bird that's found across Australia, and if you feed them or are friendly to them, they'll remember you and be friendly forever :)"

"These birds can get a bad rap. Yes we do have swooping season but only a small portion of magpies swoop and at the end of the day they only want to protect their babies. Plus they have the most magnificent song. Seriously. Look it up, they're beautiful birds. Very intelligent. Can and will fuck you up and honestly I'd side with the bird just about any day."

Noisy Miner (Manorina melanocephala)

"I know these guys have a bad rep for pushing out a lot of smaller native birds but I always enjoyed their little family dramas playing out in the backyard. Also they are good alarms for cats, snakes, and birds of prey!"

"They have a yellow section by their eye that looks like kick-ass eye shadow"

"Annoying as hell, everywhere, lowkey a pest. Also really fucking loud. It terrorises me every now and then again. The rest of the world should have to at least acknowledge its existance."

"probably the bird I see the most by pure numbers, they're incredibly gregarious, always doing things together. they make alarm calls a lot, and they're known for their aggression, they mob animals they don't want in their territory a lot, e.g. snakes, cats, other birds. they're also very pretty! mostly soft greys with a little bright yellow, and a lovely olive green patch on their wings."

Image Sources: magpie (Derek Stokes), miner (David Irving)

#Great Backyard Bird Off #bird poll #animal poll #Australian birds #oceania birds #australasian birds #australian magpie #noisy miner

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paperstorm · 2 months ago

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Thanks for the tags @whatsintheboxmh @annoyingcloudearthquake @heartstringsduet @henrygrass @thisbuildinghasfeelings and @nisbanisba! This is from Somewhere in a Song, chapter posting tomorrow :)

“Are your parents gonna come to a show?” TK asks, as they toss the empty boxes and napkins and begin to stroll side by side.

Carlos swallows. It’s a complicated question, and something he hasn’t even talked about with Grace. She knows the gist, she knows his parents aren’t as excited about his chosen career path as Carlos wishes they were, but there’s something that always scratches in the back of his skull telling him he shouldn’t be talking about them that way, even if what he’s saying is true. Obligatory respect, maybe a sprinkling of Catholic guilt, Carlos is never sure exactly what causes it. He just knows it makes him feel awful to even consider disparaging them.

“Maybe,” he says, noncommittally.

“Do they live in Austin? We have one there later in the summer.”

“Yeah.” Carlos nods. “Summer is a really busy time, though, for my dad.”

“What does he do?”

“Owns a cattle ranch just outside the city.”

TK’s quiet for a moment, and when Carlos glances over TK’s eyebrows are raised comically.

“What?” Carlos laughs.

“You were raised on a literal cattle ranch?” TK cries.

“Yep.”

“That’s incredible.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, man, you’re like an actual cowboy, not like all those guys singing about dirt roads and cosplaying as working class when they’re actually a millionaire.”

Carlos cracks up. “Damn, shots fired.”

“Am I wrong?”

“Not entirely, no. Although again, it is my dad’s ranch, not mine.”

TK grins at him. “Even still. I like that you’re authentic.”

“Thanks.” Carlos returns his smile. He’s never thought of it that way. He isn’t resentful of his upbringing but since there are things about it that he wishes were different, he’s never been as proud of it as maybe he should be. He likes the spin TK’s put on it.

“I – sorry, excuse me, you’re …”

Carlos looks up. There’s a young woman standing a few feet away from them, lips parted and cheeks bright pink. She’s staring at TK with wide eyes, and Carlos looks back and forth between them a few times, worried just for a second that she’s another person following TK around the country and showing up at his hotel.

But then she meekly asks, “Are you TK Strand?”

Carlos feels his shoulders lower.

TK nods. “I am, yeah. Hey.”

“Oh my God,” she mutters, head shaking quickly back and forth. She takes a step forward but then quickly backs up. “Sorry. I’m usually not weird.”

Laughing softly and holding out his hand, TK kindly says, “It’s okay. It’s nice to meet you.”

Something inside Carlos seems to melt, as the awestruck fan reaches out and shakes his hand. He knows a little bit about how she feels – awestruck and bowled-over. TK has that effect on people.

“Allison,” she says in a trembling voice.

“Hi, Allison.” TK nods his head to the side. “This is Carlos.”

She looks over and then comically jumps in surprise and blushes an even deeper crimson. “Oh my God. Yes, hi, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even see you. That’s so rude.”

“It’s okay,” Carlos chuckles. In an audible stage-whisper, he tells Allison, “I get it, he’s pretty impressive.”

“Yeah,” she agrees breathlessly.

“Were you at the show last night?” TK asks.

Allison shakes her head quickly. “I’m coming tomorrow.”

“Oh, great. The second night’s always better.”

With a nervous giggle, she folds her hands together and Carlos watches the color drain out of her fingers as she squeezes them. “I saw you on your last tour, you guys were so amazing.”

“Thank you.” TK says it so sincerely, and the imaginary warmth spreads to Carlos’s extremities.

“I – um. Sorry, I won’t take up more of your time, I just …”

“It’s okay, you’re good.”

Taking a breath, Allison’s eyes shine a little brighter in the lights from the streetlamps and her voice shakes as she tells him, “I know this is probably, um, trauma dumping, or whatever, but I just, um. Wanted you to know I started getting help after you went to rehab.”

Carlos glances at TK. His focus is lasered on the fan standing in front of them, a slight down-turn of his mouth but he doesn’t look upset. Maybe overwhelmed.

“I just – you had to deal with so much shit,” Allison babbles, one hand waving anxiously in a circle, “so I just wanted you to know that you also helped people. I thought if you could do it, I could too.”

“I’m so proud of you,” TK tells her, a tiny waver in his voice. “Thank you for telling me that.”

TK takes a step forward and reaches for her hand again. He takes both of them, squeezing and smiling at her, and suddenly Carlos feels very much like an intruder – like he’s eavesdropping on a private, personal moment, and yet he can’t seem to look away.

Tagging @theghostofashton @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @eclectic-sassycoweyes @carlos-in-glasses

@bonheur-cafe @actual-sleeping-beauty @herefortarlos @heartstringsduet @alrightbuckaroo

@goodways @lightningboltreader @emsprovisions @freneticfloetry @liminalmemories21

@reasonandfaithinharmony @ladytessa74 @never-blooms @sanjuwrites @orchidscript

@lemonlyman-dotcom @jesuisici33 @kiwichaeng @honeybee-taskforce @hereghostslive

@just-inside-her @firstprince-history-huh @captain-gillian @tellmegoodbye @ironheartwriter

@butchreyes @anactualcaseofthetruth @ditheringmind @thisbuildinghasfeelings @whatsintheboxmh

@irispurpurea @nisbanisba @corsage @chicgeekgirl89 @nancys-braids

@carlossreaders @denizoid @everlastingday @rangersoup

Want to be added or removed from the list? Lmk

#911 lone star #wip wednesday #musician au #papertstorm writes #idek why I use that tag anymore lol I'm so inconsistent with it

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oraclemoontarot · 7 months ago

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what your nct dream bias says about you 𓂃⊹ tarot reading

little fun reading on the general personality of a fan who biases a certain member.

This is a general reading on the personalities of all those who bias a specific member so, there could be individual differences, take what resonates!!

mark ౨ৎ

cards pulled: seven of wands, sun, hanged man, wheel of fortune, queen of swords, hermit, four of pentacles, magician, eight of wands, snow leopard: self-reliance, lady bug: good luck, wolf: pathfinder, sea otter: happiness, loon: intuitive

Mark Lee stans are generally busy bees. You work hard for things that make you happy, things that you are passionate towards. Just like Mark himself, you embody warmth and happiness, spreading your positivity and light; your joy is contagious. You also have a different perspective on various things, such as your views on the world, concepts, and others' opinions. You likely have a wide range of skills, or at least one which you are focused on and others could have a high regard for. Whatever you set your mind on, you achieve. There are various sides to you, constantly changing, constantly evolving. The person you were yesterday is not the person you are today.

As the queen of swords, you are quite intellectual, a strong presence, oftentimes viewed as cold when, internally, you are far from that. But you do set clear boundaries, never letting others overstep. There are times when you retreat into your shell, guarded and reserved, or embracing your solitude to let yourself reflect. After retreating, you come out even stronger, more self-assured, and confident in your decisions. You could be quite good with your finances as well, sometimes holding back more than what is necessary or beneficial to you. It could also mean that there are moments when you hold back on sharing your ideas and views with others, especially as it may be something valuable. But you are a creator. Whatever you want or wish for, you have the power to make happen. You are fast-moving, dedicated, strong, and with a lot of willpower. You have an appreciation for art, people, and your own mind and solitude. You really do have an incredible mind; your thoughts are intricate and intellectual. There is so much people could learn from you, having the ability to influence and educate others, to give them the opportunity to think and explore.

With the animal oracle, you are self-reliant. A very independent person who embraces solitude, often finding strength through spending time in your own company. You value integrity, with a strong intuition, and may have a tendency to be a perfectionist. But you have such bright, lucky energy. Just being in your presence fills others with joy and makes them feel lucky in some way—lucky to be next to you, lucky to receive that contagious good energy. You don't have much time to worry; you focus on the present, having so much love and color to you. You are not one to live or dwell on the past. You may be like that of a teacher to others, helping them find their way through guidance, advice, or even lending an ear to them. Whatever challenge comes your way, you have a strong, unwavering soul and character—able to endure, persevere, and be resilient, especially when it involves those you love.

You likely have a playful nature to you, enjoying every moment of every day, oftentimes going with the flow. You have such a loving nature, wearing your heart on your sleeve, and being such a warm, caring, and kind individual, one most would value. You have so much trust within yourself—your own opinions, thoughts, and feelings come first when it comes to forming decisions about your own life, having this inner knowing, this powerful intuition. The busier life is for you, the more likely you are to enjoy and seek your own solitude—not in a lonely way, but likely as a way to recharge. You appreciate your authenticity, your uniqueness, and you have a strong sense of self-love.

── .✦ songs by nct dream that represent you:

best friend

pretzel (♡)

yogurt shake

renjun ౨ৎ

cards pulled: fool, star, judgment, knight of swords, six of pentacles, six of wands, strength, nine of cups, two of cups, orca whale: adventure, bison: abundance, heron: patience, white stag: protector, pronghorn: action

Renjun stans have such a rich inner world, embracing their inner child and having this immense amount of curiosity and eagerness for adventure. You may often smile a lot, having a contagious happy energy. There is also this dreamer and optimistic side to you; you may even have one big dream that you wish to achieve someday. But there is something comforting, sweet, and pretty about you and your energy. You know who you are, who you're meant to be, and what you are meant to do in this world and life. You may have gone through a self-awakening, knowing what your destiny or purpose is. You may also have impulsive or go-getter tendencies, not wasting a second in pursuing what interests you or towards your goals.

You are generous, both in your time and energy. You never hesitate in helping others; gift-giving may even be your love language. There is also a possibility that you may donate to charities or causes, or support your friends and family if they are in need, not hesitating in sharing your resources. You may even be popular or well-liked by those around you, or at the very least, successful in whatever you do—whether with academics, career, personal hobbies, skills, or interests. There is this inner strength and independence to you, and that comes from knowing who you are. You value the little things in life; the little moments are so, so special to you. You appreciate beauty such as art, music, nature, etc. And you value the time you spend with people and deep, meaningful connections. You have a lot of love and even a cuteness to you that people can't help but adore.

You love doing things differently from others, being as wild, free, and authentic as possible. You may be someone who is unafraid to voice their own mind, and you may love to travel and explore various cultures! You, at your core, are loyal, confident, brave, powerful, and have a deep value and appreciation towards your friends and family. You have so much wisdom, as well as gratitude and warmth. You know how to balance between your drive and alone time, finding a sense of patience. You are also a protector, an old soul with a strong intuition. You have your own 'magic' and strength, the power to influence and motivate others, but also a sense of creativity, art, and passion. You are action-oriented, acting immediately when opportunities arise. You have a quick wit and sense, often finding success with ease.

── .✦ songs by nct dream that represent you:

glitch mode

yogurt shake

chewing gum

we go up

jeno ౨ৎ

cards pulled: page of cups, hanged man, high priestess, three of cups, ten of cups, four of wands, page of swords, knight of swords, emperor, raven: shaman, heron: patience, white stag: protector, moose: wisdom, raccoon: inventor

Jeno stans are romantic idealists at heart. You may believe in concepts such as fate, destiny, soulmates, and the mystical—filling your heart with romance tropes and an eagerness for true, meaningful love. You likely value family and want to find a long-term partner, someone you could build a family or home with, as it is something that would bring you this sense of content, this peace and love which fills your whole heart.

You have an incredible perspective and view on the world, especially with relationships. People are intrigued by your mind, but also your mysterious nature. You are incredibly attractive, and there is something about you that pulls people in, like this depth, this inner-knowing and something mystical. It's like, even if people have known you for years, there's still so much to you—it's like trying to point out every star in the sky; that is how much depth there is to you. You likely enjoy socialising, going out, or networking—finding joy in interacting with others.

You have a wide range of ideas and goals, possibly loving to travel as well. You may be good at communicating and always looking towards the future, but with this drive where you act on your goals as well, not one to miss out on opportunities. But you are also a protector. You are a pillar within your family and connections; you look after others and provide support, you are a source of strength.

You are both a creator and a magician. You know how to use your gifts, skills, and resources for good and have a power and wisdom to all the words you speak, harboring a sense of mystery and inner wisdom. You have a balance between living in your head and in reality. You are a dreamer who is grounded in logic, but you are also patient and bring a sense of comfort and stillness in terms of your presence when with others. You are a protector, an old soul who has a strong intuition. You are meant to create blessings in yours and others' lives—an inventor who has integrity and balances between various roles and responsibilities.

── .✦ songs by nct dream that represent you:

it's yours

fireflies

dreaming

breathing

haechan ౨ৎ

cards pulled: page of cups, moon, seven of wands, lovers, seven of pentacles, knight of swords, high priestess, four of pentacles, two of cups, dragonfly: magic, lynx: keeper of secrets, sea otter: happiness, humpback whale: singer, deer: love

Haechan stans are generally dreamers. There is this childlike nature to you, likely believing in concepts such as fate, soulmates, destiny, or the mystical and spiritual. There is this playfulness, and something about you or your energy that most would see as cute or sweet. You may live in your head a lot, where people would naturally be intrigued by you as you're mysterious, seeing you as someone with a lot of depth and a lot that they don't know about you, even after years of being close with you. You could be a hard worker, or at least put a lot of your energy and effort into relationships you value. You are a romantic at heart, often spending time daydreaming about certain romantic tropes, though in reality, you could be quite reserved, cautious, or closed off to romance, preferring the way it exists in your own mind as the story plays just how you like it—safe and warm.

You're naturally a patient person who could have impulsive tendencies due to your excitement—possibly random hyper fixations that you suddenly feel passionate about and want to enjoy. Many would view you as attractive, especially with your energy, linking back to your mysterious nature, but equally because of you knowing who you really are. There is something authentic and true to you. You present yourself the way you are—nothing more and nothing less. You may even be good at tarot. There is this inner knowing to you, this strong intuition. Lies and false intentions can't get past you.

With the two of cups, your overall energy is one of love and meaningful connections. That is what is most important to you: authenticity, real connections, and deep emotions tied to deep relationships. You have a lot of love to give, but you are also deserving of that amount of love back.

With the oracle cards, you are someone who is constantly changing, unafraid of improving yourself and your life. You are able to move on from the past, not letting it hold you back—you are someone with this magic to you, this undeniable strength that presents itself in a light, beautiful, and graceful way. You value honesty just as much as you value loyalty and keeping secrets safe. You are an observer, someone who listens and watches more than speaks. You also have this inner knowing with other people; you can see deception, feel when someone is hiding something or isn't doing too well but pretends they're fine. You also seem to enjoy your own company and space, finding your strength through spending time with yourself. You have such a positive and happy energy to you, as well as this cute innocence.

There is something so friendly and approachable about you, where you are filled with gentle and loving energy, seeing the positives in everything and everyone, valuing and acknowledging your sense of self-worth and self-respect. You may even be someone who tends to go with the flow, being a healer for those around you, appreciating art, good things, good people, and the world itself. You have a strong sense of purpose and never stray from your path.

── .✦ songs by nct dream that represent you:

my first and last

walk you home

rains in heaven

dear dream

as a haechan stan, I was severely called out 😭

jaemin ౨ৎ

cards pulled: three of cups, two of cups, seven of pentacles, queen of pentacles, queen of wands, four of swords, magician, four of wands, king of cups, penguin: authentic, cat: independent, moose: wisdom, dog: friend, hawk: messenger

Jaemin stans value friendships and meaningful connections. You don't appreciate superficial relationships, seeking only those that are deep, loving, and authentic. You are likely to be social butterflies, or at least prefer having a group of friends, at least three close people in your life. You are patient, especially when it comes to your goals and dreams, feeling like the rewards would likely be guaranteed and abundant that way. You are someone who has two sides to you, yet nurturing at heart. On one side, you value safety, security, and finances, making a house a home, and are grounded and humble. On the other end, you are passionate, creative, enthusiastic, sociable, warm, confident, and welcoming, and most would find you attractive, especially with your energy.

When you are hurt, stressed, or overwhelmed, you seek solitude, prioritising your health and comfort, letting yourself heal and relax before going back out into the world. At heart, you are a creative and a romantic. You may believe in marriage and seek long-term relationships, being really loving and expressive. Whatever you want, you'll get as well. Just like Mark-biased NCTzens, you know how to turn your dreams into reality. You could also love fantasy novels or romance films/books, embracing your inner child and finding ways to bring love and joy into your life. Overall, you are a mature person, especially emotionally. Sometimes, you may be intimidating, but you are so loving and a protector toward those you care about. You don't let others hurt them, quick to defend and stand up for them.

You are authentic and unafraid to embrace it. The people you are friends with are likely kindred souls, sharing similar interests or personality. Your family and close friends are extremely important to you; they are your source of strength, especially in times when you struggle. You are yourself, unchanging and unashamed. Even if everyone else is the same and you stand out, you stay true to your authentic self. You are also independent and a natural healer, with a strong intuition, and are not one to follow the crowd. You have so much wisdom, yet a balance between the dream world and your current reality. Your creativity and logic are like yin and yang. You are grounded and have an old soul. However, although you are grounded, you are also the definition of a true friend. You have a lot of energy and enthusiasm, bringing inspiration with you, inspiring others, and giving them a source of love and happiness without expecting anything in return. You are a true protector and friend. You are someone who is likely to have a bright future, being able to see and understand things most wouldn't. You are not one to be easily distracted or strayed from your path or goals, constantly growing and achieving.

── .✦ songs by nct dream that represent you:

my youth

candle light

dive into you

rainbow

chenle ౨ৎ

cards pulled: king of wands, high priestess, page of wands, eight of pentacles, page of pentacles, eight of cups, knight of pentacles, page of cups, ace of swords, peacock: vibrancy, cat: independent, polar bear: mystic, tiger: fire, dolphin: play

Chenle stans are passionate, energetic, and enthusiastic people, especially when it comes to learning, academics, studying, or their career. You have so much depth and mystery to you; just like Jeno stans, there is something so intriguing about you, it just pulls people in without them knowing why. You are attractive, with such a powerful, compelling energy. You have this balance of work hard, play hard, bringing life with you wherever you go, the life of the party. You could be the class clown or resident hype buddy. You are a determined and hardworking person, focused and dedicated towards your goals.

You are someone who doesn't stay too long in things that do not serve you, quick to move on towards better things—such as a better job, environment, relationships, or the past itself. You move at a steady pace towards better things and towards your goals; patience is something you value, finding it builds a strong foundation in most things within your life. You are also a dreamer and a romantic idealist, possibly enjoying creative hobbies and endeavours. You wear your heart on your sleeve and likely believe in concepts such as soulmates, destiny, fate, and mystical, spiritual things—similar to a lot of other NCTzens on this post. You have this child-like nature to you that is so innocent, sweet, and romantic. Some people may even have a strong adoration for you, especially as they'd find you really cute and endearing. You are also an incredible communicator, able to express your thoughts and feelings with clarity, always voicing your opinions, unafraid of judgment—similar to Chenle himself.

You were born to shine and inspire others, yet you are humble and aren't jealous in nature, feeling grateful for your life. You are true to who you are, recognising your self and authenticity, and you are independent, a natural healer. You have a strong intuition, not one to follow the crowd, and someone who is stronger through challenges you go through. Adversities don't hold you back at all. You find and renew strength through resting and dreaming, and you are someone who likely has psychic abilities, which explains your mysterious intrigue. You are bold, brave, powerful, and passionate—someone who is fierce and unmoving from their path and goals. But you are equally someone who brings happiness and joy with you, knowing how to have fun, filling yourself with confidence and not letting fear hold you back. You likely go with the flow and have such rich wisdom, enjoying life through having fun and letting your playful nature shine.

── .✦ songs by nct dream that represent you:

ridin'

carat cake

boom

to my first

jisung ౨ৎ

cards pulled: nine of pentacles, ten of cups, knight of wands, eight of wands, seven of wands, king of cups, knight of cups, nine of wands, empress, butterfly: rebirth, eagle: mastery, tiger: fire, deer: love, giraffe: visionary

Jisung stans are people who embody gratitude and humbleness, especially after working hard to get to where you are now. You treasure and gratefully accept the rewards, but not forgetting the journey it took to get there. This gratitude also seeps into your value and treasuring of your family. You have a lot of love for your family and wish to have a family of your own someday; it is what brings you both strength and a sense of contentment. You are also enthusiastic and full of energy, life, and excitement. You are a go-getter, never backing down and never one to miss out on a new opportunity or adventure.

You are emotionally mature, and may even have a sensitive side to you. You are a protector towards your family, looking out for them and providing support, especially emotionally. You are someone who is a romantic at heart, and in a very sweet, innocent, and genuine way. You make the ideal partner and likely wear your heart on your sleeve—very affectionate too. You are also resilient, never backing down and not letting challenges stop or sway you. As the Empress, you are nurturing, loving, feminine, and know how to make a house a home—things such as tending to a garden, bringing life into your environment. But you are also strong, voicing your thoughts and opinions, and setting clear boundaries.

You are someone who embraces change, constantly looking for ways to reinvent yourself, open to the journey of self-discovery and rebirth. You are constantly transforming and sharing the brilliance which is you. You don't let the past hold you back, focusing on mastering your skills, your character, career, or hobbies, having a lot of wisdom and strength. You likely have a talent in guiding and inspiring others too. You are someone bold, brave, passionate, and unstoppable—you charge headfirst towards your goals, never straying from the path you laid out. But, just as you are fierce, you also embody love and gentleness, like a deer. You have the ability to heal others, seeing the positivity in all things, and have a sense of self-worth and grace.

── .✦ songs by nct dream that represent you:

beatbox

fire alarm

we young

love again

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so-much-for-stardust6 · 11 months ago

Text

Bathroom Rendezvous- Damon Albarn

summary: your friends drag you out to a club and a certain brit caught your eyes.

lowercase intended

warnings: smut

a/n: was kinda inspired by the song ‘bathroom’ by montell fish :)

the stench of sweat and alcohol hit me as soon as i walked inside the club. my friends forced me out of my apartment to ‘get out there’. they dragged me towards the bar, wasting no time to get drunk. i hesitantly did shots with them, not really in the mood to get black out drunk. i was tipsy when they decided to move onto the dance floor. i stuck with one of my friends as the other ones went to find someone to dance with. we danced crazily to whatever song was playing, laughing at our antics. the second i closed my eyes, she got dragged away by some guy. once i opened them, i was alone on the dance floor. i stopped dancing as a small frown appeared on my face. i took that as my cue to go sit down and wait until they’re ready to leave. i plopped down into a empty booth, dropping my head down onto the table.

“y/n! why are you sitting down? come dance!” one of my friends shouted at me.

i looked up to see a girl glued to her side, sweaty from the dancing they did.

“i don’t know, i think i’m good here.”

“party pooper!” the random girl called out.

i furrowed my eyebrows at her, a tiny bit of hatred flowing through my veins.

my friend just laughed at her statement and led them away. i just watched them with a look on my face that quickly disappeared once my eyes landed on someone. his gorgeous face was highlighted by the lights, his blond hair shining bright. he quite literally took my breath away since i breathed in a shuddered breath.

he must’ve felt someone staring at him cause he began scanning the club, eyes landing on mine. he flashed the greatest smile i’ve ever seen at me. i softly began to smile but immediately realized i’ve been caught staring. i averted my eyes and stared at my fingers instead. part of me hoped he wouldn’t come over but the other wanted him to. i looked back up to where he was and saw he was gone. i mentally panicked, scooting out of the booth and booking it towards the bar. i ordered 3 shots, downing them in seconds. the bartender stared at me in shock as the alcohol smoothly went down my throat. i slapped money on the counter and thanked the woman before heading to the dance floor.

i shoved my way past the sweaty bodies to reach the middle of the floor. my body just began moving on its own, dancing along to the song. i was too focused on myself that i didn’t feel a certain someone’s eyes on me. after the blond man noticed i was staring at him, he already knew he wanted to meet me. he thought it was a perfect time to go once i broke eye contact, but when i noticed he wasn’t in his original spot i left. he followed me to the bar, getting stuck behind some big guys before reaching the stools. i was already in the middle of the dance floor when he stood there. his beautiful eyes scanned the crowd and as soon as he saw me, he didn’t hesitate to make his way over. he shoved and squeezed through people before finally stopping behind me. he watched as i danced like no one was watching.

i jumped a bit when i felt a hand on my shoulder, i turned my head to make eye contact with the man. my mouth slightly parted, in disbelief that he was in front of me.

“sorry if i scared you!” he shouted over the music.

“don’t worry about it! i’m very jumpy at little things!” i laugh.

his heart fluttered at the sound of my laughter.

“i noticed you staring at me earlier!”

“oh-uh..sorry about that! you’re just really pretty!” i blurted out, face becoming red at my words.

“well, i can say the same about you!” he reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

i nervously bit my lip, face incredibly red.

“wanna dance?” he asked, extended his hand out.

i only nodded before taking his hand. he began leading the dance, getting lost in the music. i smiled at his moves before i began dancing.

the alcohol began taking over so i took a leap of faith and turned around to grind on him. i immediately felt his hands grip my hips, somewhat guiding me. i threw my head back to rest on his shoulder, leaving an open opportunity for him to kiss my neck. the feeling of his soft lips against my skin was enough to make me lightly moan. i would’ve been embarrassed but i heard him moan back. my stomach erupted into flames, my body craving this random man.

“fuck…i know we just met but let’s take this to the bathroom, hm?” his hot breath fanned over my ear.

i couldn’t muster up the strength to speak so i nodded. he quickly took my hand in his and led us to the bathrooms. luckily no one was near as we snuck into the women’s bathroom, going into the farthest stall from the door. the bright lights shined into his face, exposing more of his beautiful features that i wouldn’t have noticed out in the dark club.

“wait, i’m sorry but i never introduced myself.” he chuckled nervously.

“i’m damon.” he stuck out his hand.

“y/n.” i shook his rough yet soft hand.

“such a pretty name for a pretty girl.” he bit his lip, moving closer to me.

his bright colored eyes stared into mine before he finally connected our lips. they were softer than i’d imagine, moving perfectly in time with mine. my hand snaked to the back of his neck to push him deeper into the kiss. he wrapped his arms around my waist and brought me closer to him.

he pushed me against the wall, one of his hands moving to grab my thighs. he guided my leg up and i took it as a sign to wrap it around his waist. i felt his fingers tickle my skin as they hike under my dress, towards the one spot i’m craving him at. he doesn’t tease me and goes straight to the point, dipping his hand into my underwear. i moaned into his mouth at the feeling of his cold fingertips.

“so wet for me, baby. jump.” he mumbled onto my mouth.

i obeyed and jumped as he caught the back of my thighs to wrap my legs around his waist.

“damon…please..” i normally don’t beg this early but having the most attractive man ever making out with me like this excuses the behavior.

he wastes no time to unbutton his pants, struggling to shimmy them down his legs with one hand.

“your top..take it off..” he moans out.

i reach to slide the straps of my dress down my arms, struggling to unzip the zipper. damon saw me struggle so he decided to help, reaching one hand to unzip me. in a blink of an eye, the top to my dress falls and pools around my waist. i swore i heard him inhale sharply while staring at my bare chest. he uses his free hand to squeeze a boob, making me hum out in approval. he massages it, even going to pinch the nipple and tug it. he leaned down to kiss my neck, his kisses sloppy and he focuses on my boobs. he switches back and forth with his free hand, giving both boobs attention.

i rest my head against the wall, softly moaning out as he marks my neck. he trails his lips farther down my neck and chest until he got ahold of my boob. i let out an embarrassing loud moan as he sucked, nipping it lightly with his teeth. i heard him unbuckle his belt, feeling him shimmy as he tries to pull his pants and boxers down enough. i instantly felt his hard on against my thigh, his pre cum spreading on my skin. his long fingers toyed with my soaked underwear, teasing as he rubs me through the fabric. i tug on his hair and moan quietly, signaling him to stop the teasing. he smirks against my boob, pulling away to catch some breaths. he had the goofiest (not in a bad way) smile on his face while his chin was covered in his own saliva.

“you’re so cute.” i giggle, leaning to him to press a quick kiss to his plump lips.

i swore i saw him blush a little before he dropped his head to hide his smile. the cute moment was cut short when a loud bang echoed the bathroom, followed by loud laughter. my eyes widen in fear, hoping none of them came to the back stall.

“be a good girl and stay quiet for me, okay?” he whispered.

i had no time to react before i felt him slowly insert himself inside me. i didn’t even notice him move my underwear out the way either. i quietly gasp out, the feeling of him stretching me out made me tremble. he looks up at me through his eye lashes, watching my face as he slowly starts to thrust.

i bit my lip as i try to contain my moans. he starts to speed up his thrusts as his blond hair falls onto his face, bouncing with every hit. i mutter a soft ‘fuck’ as i threw my head back. i definitely hit my head a bit but i didn’t care as i was too immersed in the pleasure. he placed sloppy kisses onto my jawline, marking my neck area even more than it needs to be. i closed my eyes and it felt like my brain shut off for a moment as i let out a quiet moan. my eyes shot open before slapping a hand onto my mouth.

“what’d i say? is it too good that you can’t keep shut?” he whispered against my skin.

he snaked his hand up to mouth and left it there, letting my hand go back to his shoulder.

he left a strong grip on my face to keep me quiet, becoming more confident in thrusting harder and faster. i don’t know how but the girls who entered didn’t acknowledge the echoed sound of skin slapping. i didn’t care about keeping my moans as i let them all out against damon’s hand. i heard some slip past his lips too, causing me to clench around him.

“oh fuck, do that again, baby.” he groaned.

i obeyed and clenched again, watching as he throws his head back. i remove his hand from my mouth and take my turn to go and mark his neck, biting and sucking all over.

“you’re so fucking beautiful…” he slightly whimpered.

i physically felt my knees go weak and my head get fuzzy. that emerged this deep feeling in my stomach, signaling me that i’m close to cumming. i pull away from his neck and bring our lips together.

“shit dames, do that again..” i beg.

“do what?”

“whimper…”

i felt his hips stutter once i said that word. for a second i thought he wasn’t going to do it but he quietly began whimpering against my lips. i furrow my eyebrows and moan out as i listen to the sounds emerging from him. i once again go for his hair and tangle my fingers all up in it, tugging at it slightly to earn more noises.

“i think i’m gonna cum..” i softly cry out.

his hips sped up once he registered my sentence, hand even going to my clit to approach my release even quicker.

i let out a string of curse words as i feel like my release coming hard. with one more last semi-quiet moan of damon’s name, i came all over his dick. the sound of his name slipping past my lips and the feeling of me cumming sent him over the edge. he moaned out against my lips, hips coming to an abrupt halt. his cum spurted all inside me, filling me up nicely. we stood there for a minute catching our breaths, waiting for our heart rates to lower. we were absolute messes, covered in a coat of slick sweat, lips swollen from kissing, necks all purple and red, hair frizzled. he eventually slowly pulled out, the feeling of his cum dripping down my thighs make me bite my lip. he awkwardly bent down to grab some toilet paper to clean us up, tossing it in the toilet before flushing.

“do you think you’re okay to stand?”

“i should be.” i chuckle, overconfident in myself.

i unwrapped my legs from his waist before he slowly set me down onto my feet. i stood there for a few seconds before my legs became jelly and i nearly fell to the ground. he quickly caught me in his arms, helping me onto the toilet seat.

“maybe not.” he chuckled.

i slid my dress back on, damon helping with the zipper.

“do you think those girls are gone?” i whisper.

“uh, i’m not sure. i didn’t hear anyone leaving.” he tried to peek through the cracks.

“i’ll go out there and signal you if they’re gone.” he nodded at me.

i manage to get up, wobbly making my way out the stall. to my first judgement, it seems like the bathroom was completely empty but i had to double check. i bent down to see if anyone was hiding in the stalls but they were all vacant. no one stood by the sinks or mirrors either, which definitely surprised me.

“we’re all good.” i call out.

he swiftly emerges from the stall, the sweaty glow illuminating off his skin. we quickly made ourselves presentable, washing off our faces and smoothing out our hairs. and for our hickies, we just prayed the club was too dark to notice anything. i left the bathroom first to make sure no one was near. when i saw it was clear enough for damon to sneak out, i knocked three times. he quickly slipped out the bathroom, clearing his throat and smoothing out his shirt to act like nothing happened.

“so uh, what now?” i ask, knowing that this’ll end by splitting ways and never seeing each other again.

“we either continue to dance or we go a get some food. what sounds good to you?” he snakes an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. i smile at his response and action, a tiny part of me starting to fall for him.

“hmm, i am pretty hungry for some burgers and fries.”

“burgers and fries it is then.”

we began heading towards the exit, shoving our way past people. i searched around the club in hopes of seeing my friends so i can at least tell one of them that i’ll be leaving.

“damon! dude, we were looking for you!” a guy stepped in front of us.

“oh sorry, man. i’m-uh..i’m gonna leave alright?”

“leave where? who’s this?” the man asked.

“for some food. and this is y/n. y/n this is alex, my best friend.”

“well acquainted already i see.” he points to our necks.

i blush madly, realizing that in fact the club was not dark enough.

“ha ha, now fuck off man. i’ll see you tomorrow.” he jokingly rolls his eyes at him.

he leads us our the door, the chilly air hitting my skin. i instantly start to shiver a bit, craving the warmth of anything. damon pulls me closer to him once he realizes that i’m freezing.

“y/n?!” i hear a familiar voice call out.

i turn around to see one of my other friends about to walk in the club with a man to her side.

“hey! i was looking for you guys. i wanted to let you know i’m leaving.”

she eyes damon, probably making sure he isn’t a bit off. a small smile appears on her lips as she turns back to me, assuming she thinks he’s safe.

“alrighty then, i’ll tell the others.”

“thank you so much. love you, bye.” i kiss her cheek.

she began her walk back inside but turned her head to shout at us.

“don’t forget to use protection kids!”

we both laugh at her words, knowing damn well we didn’t use any earlier. we finally find damon’s car, quick to get inside and escape the cold air. he starts up his car and lets it warm up before driving off towards our burger date. one of our many burger dates.

#damon albarn #damon albarn smut #blur #blur band #graham coxon #graham coxon smut #alex james #alex james smut #dave rowntree #dave rowntree smut #90s #90s smut #90s britpop #90s britpop smut

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dontexpectmuch · 1 year ago

Text

just jude being [incredibly] jealous about your [understable] crush on jeon jungkook.

a/n: jungkook, if you’re reading this, come back home pls the kids miss you

jude feels something shuffling next to him as he stirs in his sleep, his ears slowly picking up the sound of your muffled giggle, you trying best to stay quiet while he sleeps.

he squeezes his eyes shut, desperately trying to stay asleep, but as he hears a deep voice, one that unmistakably belongs to a male, a male that is not him, coming from your phone, his eyes spring open. his head snaps to your direction, and though he felt really tired just a second ago, it feels like it has all been washed away as he is greeted by the sight if you, sitting up again the bed frame, your phone’s display illuminating your face.

his heart picks up at speed as he sees your wide smile and the shining in your eyes, and a certain sadness settles within his chest.

are you actually doing this to him? even though he is lying next to you, in the comfort of your own bed?

as he sees you smile even wider than before - if that was even possible - jude feels something snap within him, making him immediately sit up to snatch your phone out of your hands.

“what the-“ the anger and even panic painting your features naked his shoulders sack. so you really are doing this to him?

“are you for real?” his voice is deep, and though you can’t see it due to the darkness in your room, a frown settles on his handsome face.

“are you for real?” you respond, leaning towards him to grab your phone.

jude doesn’t give in, holding it away from your body as he gently closes his other hand around your wrist, “babe, why would you do that?”

you whine, escaping his hold just to take his hand into yours, “i’ll go to sleep in five minutes, please, i don’t want to miss his live, just a bit.”

frown still present, jude looks down at your phone, seeing a [really handsome, fuck] guy sitting in a room lit by purple led lights, jacket and beanie on though he seems to sit in a living room. next to his face, he sees multiple comments pop up by the second, the guy leaning forward to read those. next, his eyes wander up towards the viewers and-

“holy fuck, 30 million viewers?”

“is he still on?”

you lean your head against his, eyes now focused on jungkooks side profile as he seems to tell a story to his viewers. you can’t help but let out a [dreamy] sigh, chucking as you listen to him intensely, though you don’t understand that much.

“are you deadass watching him? do you even know what he’s talking about?” jude hands you your phone back, shaking his head as he lays back down, eyes still focused on your bright smile.

“translations will be up by tomorrow.” you shrug, deciding to lay down next to him with your cheek against his shoulder, your phone now probed on his chest.

jude stays quiet for a bit, watching that guy as he decides to sing a song while rolling his eyes as he hears your small giggle. and that is why you are up at, fuck, three in the morning? to watch that guy sing some songs and talk in language he can’t understand?

“i can sing better than him.” jude grumbles, his cheek now resting against your head as he closes his eyes, not in the mood to watch his lover watch another guy with a lovesick [yuck] smile.

though he can’t see it, you roll your eyes, “babe, he is an international superstar, singer, songwriter, pro-“

“didn’t ask for his fucking resumé.” jude scoffs, his hand moving towards your phone to take it from you, closing the app and locking it.

“hey!” you quietly protest, actually sad that your boyfriend would prevent you from watching your other boyfriend [you wish].

jude turns to his side, your face now in front of his chest as he sneaks his arm around your waist, pulling you closer if that was even possible. you hear him sigh happily and immediately forget about your sadness, snuggling up to his body.

“you’re my favorite boyfriend.”

“i thought i’m your only boyfriend?”

“good night, lover.”

yoongi marry me

#jude bellingham #football x reader #jude bellingham x reader #football one shot #x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x you #football #jude bellingham fluff #jungkook

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cybertronian-reader-imagines · 1 year ago

Note

How would Rung, Drift, Rodimus, and Swerve help a fellow bot deal with loss and loneliness during their time on the Lost Light?

((It's not really made clear in this if Reader lost someone due to death, a bad breakup, or something else, so take it however works best for you!))

TW: Mention of religion (no points for guessing which bot brings it up lol), mention of alcohol-like substance

Everyone aboard the Lost Light was running away from something. For you, it was the only person keeping you on Cybertron slipping away, leaving a crater in your spark that made a ship full of crazy seem pretty good, actually - it was, at least, better than being alone.

You have the good sense to actually talk to Rung about this, and he's very encouraging. Maybe running wasn't the best way to deal with the grief but, well... What's done is done, the ship ain't about to turn back to make you face your emotional problems. On the bright side, meeting new people would still be the best solution back home, and there's plenty of people to meet here! He encourages you to give yourself the time and space to grieve, but not to lock yourself away either.

Drift, bless his spark, seems to think the solution to all of your problems would be converting to Spectralism - a new paint job in colors representing renewal and honor is a great way to deal with loss lingering in the spirit, he says. You're not so sure about that, but you let him give you a makeover anyway, and just getting to share stories of your lost loved one while he works does help. Not to mention a little self-care at a time like this goes a long way.

Rodimus is basically the opposite of Drift. Instead of helping you talk your feelings out, he's there to distract you from them as much as you need, whenever you need it. Want to watch this really confusing Earth movie Whirl insists is the best thing fleshies ever made? Want to see how long it takes the two of you to drive Ultra Magnus (and later, Megatron) insane? Want to go on an incredibly stupid adventure? Done and done - he gives you a much needed break from working through all of it every waking cycle.

You'd expect Swerve to be a lot like Rodimus in this respect, but it turns out he's actually quite the listener, and even cuts in with some shockingly thoughtful advice from time to time as you sip your drink, on the house. "Honestly, you couldn't be in a better place to feel lost and alone," he says. "From what I've heard over this bar, the Lost Light could have its own theme song about that... Sometimes, I think I have more therapy clients than Rung." You wonder if he realizes how little he's joking.

#cybertronian reader #maccadam #transformers x reader #gender neutral reader #swerve x reader #rung x reader #rodimus x reader #drift x reader #mtmte x reader #lost light x reader

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rippleclan · 26 days ago

Text

RippleClan: Moon 94

When the mediators visit SlugClan to discuss the issue with Icekit and Pearkit, Nimblestep asks them to at least tell them about their family if they won’t give them back yet. No one... really knows what to say.

[Image ID: Paleseed, Spikecrash, Sandhollow, and Slushtrail speak with Lettucestar and Nimblestep. Slushtrail has juniper berries tucked by her ear. Under her, it reads + ACCESSORY: JUNIPER. Nimblestep says, "Quickkit and I have been learning how to make pottery… she's so good at it. Do Icekit and Pearkit like art?"]

(Sandhollow: 25, male, mediator, ambitious, lore keeper)

(Spikecrash: 69, female, mediator, wise, good speaker, lore keeper)

(Slushtrail: 30, female, mediator, wise, clever, talented weaver)

(Paleseed: 60, female, mediator, insecure, incredible runner, steady paws)

Weevilsight is sorry, but she still isn’t ready for a romantic relationship with Anchovystrike, despite caring for him too. Anchovystrike slinks off, rejected. He goes hunting with Currentsmoke, Billowhaze, and Whitepaw to calm down.

[Image ID: Whitepaw, Billowhaze, Anchovystrike, and Currentsmoke speak in a group. Under Billowhaze, it says - CONDITION: RUNNY NOSE. Under Currentsmoke, it says LEVEL UP! SKILLED TOOLSMITH → INVENTOR AND INNOVATOR. Behind Whitepaw and Billowhaze, a gray and white kit with green eyes approaches, yowling "Clan cats!" Under him, it says NEW PLAYER: DOVEKIT, 4, MALE, IMPULSIVE, ACTIVE IMAGINATION.]

---

"Um, Mr. Anchovystrike?" Whitepaw gulped from the back of the patrol. "I don't want to be rude, but…"

"You're making us all depressed," Billowhaze huffed. "You might be taking this a bit too hard."

The mentor and apprentice weren't wrong. As Anchovystrike led the pair and Currentsmoke toward the heart of the territory to hunt, he couldn't help but let his ears dip and his tail slag. Even the bright bird song and glittering glow of early afternoon couldn't uplift his heart. Anchovystrike knew he'd been through worse, but that didn't stop his chest from hurting and his teeth aching with the tension in his jaw.

"We don't have to call each other mates," Anchovystrike muttered, staring at the grass as he walked. "I just want to take her out of camp sometimes."

"You've been best friends as long as any of us can remember," Currentsmoke purred, rubbing against his brother. "Weevilsight obviously loves you, or at least cares! It'll be alright."

"I have to be blunt here, Anchovy," Billowhaze sighed. He looped around his brothers and stood in front of them, his pelt dappled with the light passing between budding branches. "Do you really expect Weevilsight to be interested in mates right now? Her parents have barely been dead a season." Whitepaw stayed at his mentor's side like the dutiful apprentice he was. With bright green colors breaking through tan grass and colorful flowers peeking out from the bases of old trees, Whitepaw's pelt burned against the land like the pale center of a flame.

"I thought it would take her mind off everything," Anchovystrike mumbled as his ears grew red.

"Give her a little time," Currentsmoke said. "Just being her friend can be enough for now, right?" Anchovystrike let our a mrrow of laughter. Currentsmoke and Billowhaze were right. Of course they were. Anchovystrike was just being a mouse-brain about it all. Whitepaw shuffled his paws, uncertain of his place in the brotherly conversation.

"Maybe we can at least catch some birds for her?" Anchovystrike suggested. "She loves—"

"Clan cats!" Whitepaw jumped at the sudden yowl, back arched high. A figure stomped through the young growth behind Whitepaw and Billowhaze, tail high. The wind finally carried the scent of a young tom to Anchovystrike's nose. Shiny green eyes blended into the blooming foliage. A gray and white face plunged into view. Every muscle in the tom's soft face pointed itself toward the RippleClan patrol. He had no Clan scent, but he was certainly younger than any wandering loner Anchovystrike had met. He was likely still a kit!

"Hello?" Currentsmoke gulped. He blinked wildly, laughing as the gray and white tom marched toward the group with huge pawsteps.

"Greetings!" the kit chirped, shimmering in the dappled light. Anchovystrike snorted at the strange choice of words. "I've come to join the Five Clans! Which one is this?"

"Um…" Anchovystrike snorted, trying to hide his laugh by clearing his throat. "You're in RippleClan, kit."

"I've come to join you as one of your fearsome warriors!" the kit declared. "Take me to your camp!" The four older toms stared at the loner kit. The kit stared back, blissfully unaware of the awkwardness choking the air.

"Alright, let us handle this," Billowhaze muttered to his brothers. He nudged them back with his hind leg. Billowhaze and Whitepaw moved closer to the kit. "Where did you come from, then?"

"Why does that matter?" the kit scoffed. "I'm a RippleClan cat now!" The kit's voice broke as he made his dramatic declaration, sounding more like a weasel than a warrior. Anchovystrike couldn't hide his snort at that.

"What Mr. Billowhaze is asking," Whitepaw quickly said, "is where your mother might be."

"I don't know," the kit chirped with a dismissive flick of an ear. "My humans adopted me ages ago. No idea where Mom is!"

"You're like me," Whitepaw muttered, eyes widening.

"I want to be!" the kit said. "All the Witch Hunters were talking about how big and strong the Clans were. You make a lot of stuff and trade it with the Witch Hunters. You must be really smart! I want to big and smart too! I could be a great warrior! That's way better than sitting in a human's lap all day!" Billowhaze hummed, tilting his head at the proud little kit.

"Well, you heard him," Billowhaze chuckled, glancing back at his brothers. "He could be a great warrior."

"Shouldn't we make sure no one's looking for him?" Currentsmoke asked.

"Who would be looking for me?" the kit asked, mimicking Billowhaze's head tilt.

"If he has a mother looking for him," Billowhaze muttered so the kit couldn't hear, "I'm sure the Witch Hunters will come by the border and ask for him. Besides, we should take him to camp. He's only…" Billowhaze paused, a thought catching his attention. He turned back to the kit and asked, "How old are you?"

"I don't know," the kit said innocently.

"Alright," Billowhaze groaned. "Whitepaw! Do you remember age markers? Can you figure out this kit's age?"

"Um…" Whitepaw said, tail twitching back and forth. "Have you lost any of your teeth, little one? Have they fallen out of your mouth?"

"Yesterday I ate the food my human left out," the kit explained in one breath. "My tooth fell out of my mouth but I just ate it with the rest of my food."

"Well," Whitepaw chuckled, "you still have kitten fur, so… I think you're four moons old."

"Good job," Billowhaze purred. "I agree. It's better to take him back to camp."

"I'm still going to ask Oilstripe if I can lead a patrol to the river," Currentsmoke sighed. "I don't want this to be a repeat of our problem with Nimblestep."

"Can we go hunting?" the kit asked, bouncing around Billowhaze.

"You need to see our leader first," Billowhaze said. He stopped the kit from wandering by placing his paw in front of him. "If you really want to join the Clans, there's a few things you'll need to do. What's your name, anyway?"

"I heard what Clan names sound like," the kit said, jumping onto a small root. "I picked my own! Doveclaw the warrior!" The gray and white kit dropped into a playful battle pose, growling.

"That's a nice name!" Whitepaw chirped as Anchovystrike once again laughed. "You'll have to earn that name, though. When you're young, we would call you something like Dovekit. Then you can become Dovepaw, like how I'm Whitepaw!"

"I can't be Doveclaw?" the kit—soon to be known as Dovekit—huffed.

"With hope," Billowhaze hummed, nudging Dovekit toward the rest of the patrol, "you will some day."

Anchovystrike took the lead back home while Currentsmoke, Whitepaw, and Billowhaze walked along Dovekit, prying him for more information and laughing at the kit's strange arrival. Anchovystrike couldn't stop laughing at Dovekit's random comments and insistence he could become a warrior as soon as he entered camp.

It seemed there would always be something to take Anchovystrike's mind off heartache and frustration.

(Whitepaw: 11, male, historian apprentice, nervous, active imagination)

(Billowhaze: 29, male, historian, loyal, good kit-sitter)

(Anchovystrike: 29, male, warrior, playful, unshakable StarClan link)

(Currentsmoke: 29, male, cartakr, loving, good climber, inventor and innovator)

(Dovekit: 4, male, kit, impulsive, active imagination)

A skirmish with LynxClan cats stealing crabs leaves Yarrowclaw with a mangled leg and Downstar with a mangled tail.

[Image ID: Yarrowclaw and Downstar face off against a black masked tabby with blue eyes and a scar across their muzzle. Under Downstar, it says + CONDITION: MANGLED TAIL, while under Yarrowclaw, it reads + CONDITION: MANGLED LEG. Oilstripe runs towards them, yowling, "Get off of my leader!" Under her, it says - CONDITION: GRIEVING.]

(Oilstripe: 98, female, deputy, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Downstar: 153, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Yarrowclaw: 29, female, warrior, cold, fire master)

Washington finally passes from his shipwreck injuries, but at least he died in a safe and loving home. Rabbitjoy decides to retire as a result, but since Downstar is weak, Oilstripe’s the one to give Frostpaw to Ravenweaver for the rest of her training.

[Image ID: Oilstripe watches over Rabbitjoy, Ravenweaver, and Frostpaw. Ravenweaver and Frostpaw face each other, now mentor and apprentice, while Rabbitjoy watches, pleased.]

(Washington: 222, male, elder, nervous, good mediator)

(Rabbitjoy: 130, female, elder, charismatic, master weaver)

(Oilstripe: 98, female, deputy, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Frostpaw: 11, female, artisan apprentice, strict, lover of stories)

(Ravenweaver: 29, female, artisan, den builder, very clever)

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ephie-om · 4 months ago

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This one's for all the feral Asmo enjoyers

Song: Love Bites (So Do I) - Halestorm

CW: GORE, VIOLENCE, (there's a lot) sexual harassment

Day 5: Asmodeus

Asmodeus mills about amongst an assortment of demons, chatting with anyone who looks his way. He thrives in social scenes, especially ones where the dress code is in his favor. Tonight he squeezed himself into a sinfully tight black satin dress with a draped open back. Thin gold chains drape over his shoulders and connect at his throat to form a choker. He bats his lashes at whatever demon he likes, and not one of them fails to blush at the perfect picture he creates.

He beckons a server over with a crook of his finger and thanks the demon with a wink as he's handed a flute of champagne. He sips idly, trying his best not to transfer too much of his lipstick onto the glass, when he spots a cute demon.

The other demon is massive, nearly bursting out of the suit jacket he wears, and Asmo is sure he struggled putting that tie on. Well, he reasons, he'll just have to teach him by taking it off. He watches for a few moments, trying to decide on the best approach. His black nails click against the stem of the glass idly as he observes. The demon fidgets awkwardly with his sleeves, never quite making it into a conversation with someone else. Asmo clicks his tongue in pity and starts to move in, when someone gets there just before he does. A smaller demon sidles her way up to him, pressing in hip to hip. She makes a joke, trying to put him at ease, at which he laughs haltingly.

Being the Avatar of Lust bestows upon one an incredible ability to read body language, and Asmo quickly picks up on the larger demon's discomfort. Every few seconds he tries to inch away, but the smaller one refuses to let him go. Asmo moves imperceptibly closer, ears straining to pick up on their quiet conversation.

“...awfully handsome, you know, and it would be a shame to let you go home alone.”

“I-I’m quite alright alone, actually, I'm very good at it-”

“You're cute when you pretend not to know what I'm talking about.”

“I don't know, really…”

The smaller demon shows her sharp teeth in a wicked smile and inches her hand around him. His eyes go wide as she digs in her claws with a firm grasp on his ass, and she laughs, such a sweet sound to come from such a repulsive mouth.

Asmo sets his drink down with an audible clack and moves in for the kill.

His honey eyes sharpen as his demon form threatens to leak through. A pink shimmer begins to rise from his body. His heels echo through the room as he walks, focused only on his goal. The crowd of dancing demons falls to the side to give him a clear path, and the noise of conversation dies, leaving only the music.

His nails dig into the offending demon's arm and he rips her hand away. Her eyes flash as she turns to meet him, bright blue clashing with coral. She recognizes the Avatar quickly, backing half a step away.

“I could be wrong, but I'm fairly sure he isn't interested.” He speaks with deadly calm, his anger only betrayed by his crushing grip. The demon balks, fear in her eyes, but not enough to back down. “Asmodeus,” she purrs, her words laced with poisoned honey. “I thought you, at least, would understand. Sometimes demons like us can get what we want, and other times we have to take it,” she snaps out, wresting her arm free.

Asmo looks down at her silently for a moment, weighing his options. “I'll tell you clearly. Either you leave and find someone who wants to be with you, or I rip you apart.”

The room is silent now, all eyes turned towards the three figures near the center. Each word spoken resonates throughout the room with deadly force. The large demon is cringing away from the scene, unsure if it would be safer to run.

The smaller demon smiles, scarlet against white. “You wouldn't dare.”

Wings and horns burst out in a millisecond, claws scrabbling against the floor. Asmo's jaw cracks at the hinges as he opens his mouth wide and bites down on her shoulder. He goes through skin, muscle, tendons, and crunches down on bone until he can taste the marrow. Her scream reverberates in his ears, and her claws scratch up and down his back. He smells his own blood, which only spurs his rage.

He tears to the side, shredding the joint until her arm dangles limp from his mouth. He tosses it to the side just as she sinks the sharp point of her tail inches into his side. A curse in an ancient demonic language hacks from his throat as the tail splits open into spikes, tearing him from the inside. Bright pink bleeds from his eyes as Asmodeus’ roar splits the air. The skin on the tips of his wings and back of his heels start to bubble with a sickly fuschia glow. The pustules burst as fast as they grew, revealing wicked curved barbs dripping with poison. His mouth splits open vertically, four sets of teeth snapping in the air.

His left heel slams into her leg and swells as it pumps poison into her veins. She screams again, and her limbs seize as the toxins overtake her within seconds. The room is breathless as all four jaws wrench open, then snap closed with a wet crunch over her head. Her body twitches, once, twice, then falls limp. The saliva works for a few seconds to dissolve her neck, and the headless body falls to the floor. His head rises from the mangled corpse on the ground and crunches down on her skull. Chunks of brain matter dribble out through the gaps in his teeth, dotting the floor amidst chunks of flesh and bone. He swallows, the thick mass oozing down his throat.

His humanoid form returns bit by bit, barbs receding and jaws knitting together. A trail of gore leaks down the front of his dress, the shiny fabric doing little to hide the thick layer of blood. His blazing eyes sweep the crowd keeping a safe distance from him, and his lips curve into a satisfied smile. Let them try to take advantage of someone again. He’ll find out, and when he does, they know what awaits them.

#obey me #obey me swd #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #om asmodeus #ephie writes #omadventcalendar

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katz-chow · 1 year ago

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how time passes

a/n: domestic price is the only price i will take, thank you very much. my submission for @glitterypirateduck's christmas fics. song? "love to keep me warm” by dodie & laufey. why? you'll see :) merry christmas everyone 🎄

warnings: gn!reader, fluff, sfw, cold, snowy night, leading up to a smut ;)

For John, there’s a certain aspect of life that he isn’t all too familiar with. Domesticity seemed like a world away, hidden almost. Of course, he sees it all around him; in how young couples shop for decorations for their first Christmas, or how older couples shop for grandkid presents for their nth Christmas, how candles are rare to find nowadays, all the colorful ones taken by menorahs sitting on windowsills.

He remembers it clearly when he first realized how teasing a normal life can be. It was on the same cobblestone street that he finds himself on right now, right through the glass planes of a small cafe. In a way, domesticity found itself behind a China cabinet, displayed and just an inch away from his grasp, and yet the veil between them remained locked. The feeling of being a lover, a husband just right on the other side, staring back at him like window shopping. How frustratingly fleeting it is.

The wind blew a bit more wildly back then, snow caked upon the roofs of the many buildings that surrounded him, all occupied with families. He remembers the way his hands would go numb from the hours that he walked around the market square, just to avoid the rickety radiator in his flat.

But that was years ago and the heater of the cafe he’s sat in seems unbearably warm. John sat himself in the corner, two drinks on the table and a tiramisu that he knew he had to get as soon as he set his eyes on it. Unconsciously, he looked at the gold watch on his wrist, just to check the time instead of looking incredibly pitiful alone in a room of company. He cleared his throat, then looked around; a Christmas tree with paper ornaments of children’s drawings littered through its branches, the electric fireplace that changed colors, and the soft jazz that played through the speakers.

His phone buzzed next to him on the small round table. He looked at the notification with a dash of his brow, a storm’s approaching. More snow. A chuckle bubbles up in his throat as he thinks of the irony of his first Christmas back in town almost 5 years ago, the same cold but not the same emptiness.

Almost as if on cue, the jingle of the bell at the door rang out and there you were to greet him. Still in your work clothes but with a long overcoat and a much too big scarf around you. If John could say it to you, he would say you look swaddled up like a baby. But he’s a gentleman and he knew that if he did say that, you’d refuse to put on the much-needed layers and opt to freeze to death.

He waves you down when he sees the way you stand there, hands in your pockets as your eyes wander around. He sees your eyes land on him and you bright up as you waddle over in your snow boots. He stands to pull the chair out for you, scooting you in.

“You look toasty.” He compliments, sliding the warm mug of a mocha latte over to you. He smiles even more when he sees you take off your coat and scarf, quickly grabbing the mug and holding it close to your nose. “Don’t burn your nose off.”

You glare at him playfully as you take a whiff of the chocolate goodness presented to you. “Maybe then I don’t have to smell you and that detergent you accidentally bought.”

John throws his head back, exasperated. Did he buy the wrong detergent and does it smell so obnoxiously strong you have to dilute it with an unscented one? Yes. Will you let him love it down? No, unfortunately.

He watches as you take a sip, sinking your shoulders down as you let the warmth fill you up. “This is really good, I’m glad you picked this place.”

“Saw it a few years ago, thought it’d be nostalgic to be back.” He replies simply, taking a sip from his own.

You place the mug down and narrow your eyes at him, “Nostalgic? You took your ex here or something?” You say accusatively as you place your hand into his palm on the table.

He winces at how cold your hands are compared to him. “Something like that…”

The last time he was here, he ordered one tiramisu and one latte. He then stayed for hours, watching people walk in and out, taking advantage of the buy one get one half off promotion that the young cafe had to offer. He thought about how unfair it was that even drinks came in pairs during the holidays and he’s still painfully alone. So, something like an ex.

“Your hands are freezing, Baby. Where’d you put your mittens?” He asks as he holds your hand tightly, rubbing his thumb over your fingers.

You smile cheekily towards him, opting to stuff your mouth with a spoonful of tiramisu instead of answering. This caught his attention as he pressed on, a small chuckle following his words.

“I forgot them…” You mumbled, obviously, you did! You squeeze his hand back and look around the cafe, avoiding his gaze entirely.

You see him shake his head as he laughs, and you look back at him, laughing and smiling sheepishly along. The scene was unreal, music in the air, warmth filling every bone in your body, and your favorite person ever, holding your hand.

He lays out both his palms in front of you, signaling for you to take advantage and settle your own hands on his. You do and he cups them together, rubbing some heat into them. Softly as ever, his beard tickles your knuckles as he gives them a small kiss on his lips. You feel your cheeks heat up just a bit, stinging from the cold they were previously in. You slip your hands out from under him and place them on each side of his neck, he grumbles, annoyed.

“We’re so cringe…” You muttered quietly, now hyperaware of the public setting the two of you were seated in.

He grasps your hands again and holds them close. Deciding to completely ignore the comment you made, he switches over to pepper your knuckles in kisses instead. “Wanna get outta here then?”

You nod and he lets go off your cold hands, which you promptly stick in between your thighs to warm up. John waves to a barista, pointing out to the snowy scenery. She seems to understand as she gives the two of you two paper cups and a box for your cake.

The two of you link arms and he pulls you out of the cafe, bundled up even more than when you came in with his beanie on your head. His other hand holding the bag of your little treat.

Snowflakes gently and steadily fall on your shoulders and head as he leads you back to his car, you having taken a cab over from work. John looks around at the nearly empty streets, most people taking shelter within the shops or in the comfort of their homes. He looks at you, a content smile painted your face even if the tip of your nose was turning pink and your hands still cold in his coat pocket and in his own hands.

You didn’t seem to complain about the how Jack Frost nips at your cheeks. And even if you did, he knows it’s not all too serious as you still down the packed streets full of cars.

“You cold, Darling?” He leans down a bit to whisper in your ear.

You look at him, your eyebrows raises in the cutest way. You shake your head and continue to watch the way the two of you were headed.

John didn’t think much about anything else, just the way your thumb rubs over his hand in his pocket, the crunching of score under your boots. He didn’t even think about his movements as he turned and backed you into the nearest wall, his body shielding you away from the world as you felt his breath on the tip of your nose.

“You’re so beautiful…” He grins down at you. The to-go bag now hook onto your arm as your hands found solace in his pockets.

You giggle at him and kiss his nose, then both his cheeks. John’s hands find either sides of your face as he cups it. His thumbs rubs and pinches the apples of your flesh.

He leans down and gives you one good kiss on your lips, you quickly melt into it and your hands escape to wrap around his waist under his coat. The kiss rushes through your veins, your body not feeling so cold anymore.

He pushes your head back a bit more with the force of his kiss. Fingers sliding back into the locs of your hair and into the back of your head, cushioning it from the hard, cold bricks.

“I’m warm now…” You giggle as he pulls away from you. Your teeth makes in contact with your bottom lip and your eyes big and glossy to draw him in.

He laughs and gives you a kiss on your forehead for good measure. John gives out a shaky breath as he leans to the side of your face, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “How about we hurry home and I warm you up more effectively?”

A breath hitches in your throat as you nod just a bit. He chuckles and kisses your cheek, pulling you into a u-turn when he realized y’all meant to take a right at the cafe.

#katzwrites #cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod #cod mwii #modern warfare 2 #fanfic #cod ghost #captain price x you #captain john price x reader #john price x imagines #price x reader #john price x reader #price call of duty #captain price x reader #cod price #captain john price

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balioc · 1 year ago

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Holiday Engineering: What Not to Do

We can learn a lot from Chanukah, because Chanukah is a garbage-tier holiday.

I mean this in a mostly-detached, mostly-analytic way. Like many people who were raised Jewish, I have some very fond and happy memories of Chanukah. Anything can accrue fond and happy memories, if you have a way of getting people to do it. But Chanukah is full of features that actively detract from its being resonant, impressive, memorable, or fun. It is an anti-advertisement for its community.

If you're a would-be designer-of-holidays, this is actually a really useful thing. Mimicking the good and successful holidays is quite hard; their quality tends to hinge on a lot of idiosyncratic hard-to-replicate factors, and "invent something as cool and punchy as the $WHATEVER" can be a tall order. But it's easy to look at a design failure and say, "I"m not going to do that."

With that, let's go into the details:

CHANUKAH: THE GOOD

Timing. It's a midwinter festival-of-lights. Solid start. Everyone loves those. Brightness and festival cheer, in the long cold winter nights, is practically a need for many. The holiday mostly skates by just on being the winter light festival for the Jews. A+. Or, really, we should knock that down to an A, because Chanukah usually comes too early to be ideal for this purpose, but -- still, quite good.

Traditional food (side dishes). Latkes are incredibly popular, and for excellent reason. If you're trying to settle on a food that everyone will love, "fried potatoes" is a damn good choice.

CHANUKAH: THE NEUTRAL

Symbols. There's really just one that matters: the chanukiyah (nine-branched menorah). Which is, on paper, a very cool and snappy symbol. Distinctive silhouette, ritual engagement, plus the allure of fire. But it loses a lot of points for the fact that you don't actually light the whole damn thing, and get the proper visual effect, until the very end of a long-ass holiday when everyone's enthusiasm and attention have ebbed. On the first night, in particular, you light just two candles in your chanukiyah, and it looks lopsided and sad.

Traditional food (sweets). Jelly donuts are fine, I guess, if uninspiring and uninspired. Chanukah gelt is pretty lame as candy goes...but from a holiday-design perspective, it's hard to go too far wrong with giving kids candy.

Music. "Maoz Tzur" is kinda pretty. "Oy Chanukah!" is kinda fun. That's pretty much it, barring some silly kids' music (and I guess that Adam Sandler thing). Nothing that will knock anyone's socks off. But, honestly, two decent songs is more than many good holidays have.

Gifts. Being the big annual gifting holiday is a double-edged sword. It's some super-powerful mojo, culturally speaking. People are obsessed with giving and receiving gifts, in a way that's very hard to excise or evade, no matter how often you trot out your utilitarian language about deadweight loss. Chanukah gets a lot of its traction out of the fact that it's the holiday where you get presents. But. (a) In the modern world, the gifting holiday is unavoidably a locus of stress and misery for many people, and Chanukah doesn't have nearly enough upside serving to support that burden. (b) Chanukah is bad at being a gifting holiday. The gifting is not well-integrated into the event, it's a tacked-on thing copied over from Christmas, and it shows. There's no real ritual surrounding it, no presents-under-the-Christmas-tree equivalent, certainly no Santa Claus. Worse yet, the eight-day-holiday thing means that either you need a set of gifts whose awesomeness is equally divisible by eight (mega-awkward), or else you have inconsistencies and disappointments.

CHANUKAH: THE BAD

Theme. What is the holiday about, when everything is said and done? What is our key takeaway message from all the shit we're doing. "God is great, God looks out for His people, God performs mighty miracles." Stop. Shut up. You fail. That's every holiday, if you're operating within a religious tradition. You need something more than that, something powerful and deep and important and special, to be even halfway-decent as a holiday. But for the vast majority of Jews (including Jews in the most orthodox and observant denominations), that's pretty much all you get. Because...

Mythology. The story of Chanukah, the holiday's narrative raison d'etre, is just unconscionably bad. In some extremely vague sense, it's a story about Jews overthrowing foreign oppressors and casting off foreign influences...which is already pretty bad from a modern liberal perspective, we don't like jingoistic ethnonationalism these days. But the actual events of the Chanukah story are less about Jews-against-foreigners than they are about Jews-against-other-Jews. It is a story about fanatics seizing power and murdering cosmopolitans. Virtually everyone hates that shit, up to and including the most tribal-minded Jews. The rabbis of the Talmud were pretty iffy about Chanukah for exactly this reason, and didn't talk about it much, with the result that the holiday doesn't have much in the way of supporting cultural infrastructure. And you really can't tell the Chanukah myth without that horrible stuff; it's so baked-in that it gets incorporated into even the most sanitized propagandistic Hebrew-school versions of the tale (with exactly the effects that you'd expect on Hebrew school students). The miracle of the oil feels like a tacked-on narrative coda, because it is, because without it the only possible moral of the story would be "kill your neighbor if he's not pious enough for you." But it's much too little, much too late. The miracle of the oil is super lame by miracle standards: no one is saved from danger, there are no memorable SFX, the whole thing is relevant only to the rituals of a long-vanished Temple.

[There are several lessons that can be learned from this particular problem, at multiple levels of abstraction.]

Structure. You can have a good eight-day holiday, but a festival of that length needs an arc. The days need to be distinct from each other. You need to be either building up to a climax, or -- more commonly, as with Passover and [the twelve days of] Christmas -- coming down from a main celebration at the beginning in a long pleasant haze of semi-special time. Chanukah is flat and internally undifferentiated, except for the addition of more candles to the chanukiyah. You can't sustain real holiday feeling that long, and there's no particular day on which you're supposed to do anything special, so it all just turns into a mush of "how much do we care right this moment?"

Activities. The traditional dreidel game is the worst, most boring, most unbalanced game in the history of games. Pushing it on children only makes those children hate Chanukah, and Judaism, and games, and you.

Traditional food (entrees). There's no classic Chanukah dish that can serve as a viable main course, unless you're one of those people who can happily eat fried potatoes as an entire meal. This is a glaring omission. It's particularly bad for Chanukah, because Chanukah has so little else going for it that it really needs to lean hard on the standard holiday "gather for a festive meal" thing.

Social role. As many people will eagerly tell you, Chanukah was a pretty minor holiday for most of Jewish history; it got big largely because of a marketing push in the 19th and 20th centuries, mostly because people got scared about the prospect of the younger generations assimilating, and wanted to give them a holiday to compete with Christmas. Which is maybe the worst idea that anyone has ever had. For more reasons that I can easily list here, modern Western Christmas is an absolute SSS-tier holiday, one of the very best of all time. Setting yourself up as a direct competitor to Christmas -- inviting your own people to make that comparison -- is tantamount to telling them that your traditions and your community are worthless and weak, and that they should join the ranks of the gentiles. And that would be true even if your own offering were something halfway decent. Trying to do it with Chanukah...it's like Estonia declaring war on the US. It's the ultimate "we have food at home." It is, if you'll pardon my saying so, Christian rock.

#holiday analysis

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redtsundere-writes · 11 months ago

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mma figther!sukuna ryomen x femcoach!reader

Part 13. Last One Before Leaving.

Beginning. ← Previous | Next →

Summary: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Yuuji, Choso and Sukuna are brothers. Some characters are out of characters. Warnings: Cursed words. Word Count: 4582 words. Author's Note: I am going to edit the shit out of this fanfic after I drop the last chapter. I am not sure if I will post the next chapter next week because I have to work on some commissions, but I'll try my best because it will be a long one. I promise. Thanks for staying tuned!

Back to old habits. The only thing I could see in the middle of the tunnel was Sukuna's gigantic back, I could raise my hand and trace his tattoos with my fingertips. I took a deep breath to assimilate that this was really happening. This was my last fight as the King of the Ring's coach. This was the last time I would wear the Team Black jacket. The last time I would march to the beat of Sukuna's favorite song. This would be the last time I would be able to support Sukuna this close. We emerged from the darkness and the crowd greeted us in a sea of applause and cheers. Gojo was at my side with a big bright smile, Yuuji was on the other holding his brother's bench and Nanami was behind me, holding the strategy notes.

After the referee took over to check on Sukuna, he hugged everyone quickly before entering the ring. My lips formed a smile involuntarily at his warm touch. I was so proud of him. I was sure he would excel in this fight as in all the others. I already wanted to see him fight in all his glory. I hope I was good enough as a sparring partner for this match.

"Give a warm welcome to Aoi, the champion destroyer, Todo!” They announced. “I wonder what song he will enter with this time,” I thought curiously.

It was true that Todo was a famous fighter because of his skills, strength and beefy body, but there was a reason why he is very popular. While other fighters enter the arena with rap songs with intimidating lyrics, Todo enters with songs of his favorite k-pop idols. Nayeon's POP! started blaring from the speakers. He came in dancing to the choreography of the said song with his team following closely behind. One could debate the fact that he was the best fighter in the UFC, but he was the one who puts on the best shows.

"What the fuck is this? " Sukuna asked as he stretched out near our corner.

"Oh, I love this song,” Yuuji told me excitedly as he danced to the famous choreography that went viral on TikTok recently.

It didn't take long for him to get into the ring. In the distance, I could see Yuki waving with a smile as if we were friends. Poor thing, she doesn't know that Sukuna was about to smash her fighter to the ground. Maybe I should give her a sign. I showed her my thumbs down while mouthing the words “he's going down” in an exaggerated way. That was enough to wipe off her smile.

Todo and Sukuna gathered in the center to start the fight. One last fight and we're off. “Come on Sukuna, show me everything I have taught you,” I thought as I watched him excitedly. This would be Sukuna's last fight that I would be able to watch this close. I felt like a little girl again watching her first UFC fight on TV. I still couldn't believe I had come this far in my career. From being a rank-and-file fighter to being the champion of my division to directly training one of the best fighters in the world. I was proud of Sukuna, but I was prouder of myself.

The bell rang and the fun began. The beasts went straight ahead to try to take each other down with their killing punches. For a giant mass of musclemen, Todo was incredibly faster than before. Yuki must have focused his training on speed since he is already strong. There was a moment where Todo was just lashing out jab after jab without Sukuna being able to return them, but he could get away from him to try to attack him from another angle. My fighter was defending himself very well, but he was eating a punch or two. Plus he wasn't working on his offense like we had practiced before. Something was going on.

The third round arrived and Sukuna was still not improving, in fact, his body was beginning to lose resistance from all the missiles he was receiving. His movements were getting slower with every minute, his defense was fading little by little and his offense was not working. He was looking for any path that could lead him to victory, but they were all covered by the great wall that was Aoi Todo. If this was going to judges' decision, the odds weren’t on Sukuna’s side. “What the fuck are you doing wrong?!” I asked my fighter as if he could hear me telepathically.

"Damn, he's getting fucked," Yuuji commented annoyed with the situation.

Wait, his lucky ritual, is that why Sukuna wasn't in his best shape? Hadn't he had satisfying sex the night before? That couldn't be. Sukuna told me that Gojo had hired him a special prostitute the night before. Did he do something different this time? Whatever it was, luck was not on Sukuna's side. He would have to fight with everything his body could offer to keep his title. And after what seemed like an eternity, the bell announcing the end of the third round rang. There was one last round left that we could not squander.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Didn't you get a hard on last night or what the fuck?” I asked him offended while Yuuji put ice on his bumps to reduce the swelling.

"What the fuck are you talking about?! Shut up!” Sukuna barked, annoyed.

"Then what the fuck is wrong with you?!” I yelled in his face. "I'm going to support you until the end, but please, stop fucking around and give him a piece of your fucking mind!”

"I'm tired,” he sighed as he closed his eyes. I slapped him. Gojo and Yuuji looked at me, baffled.

"You can rest once you give him a final punch! You're about to lose your title!” I screamed to wake him up from the trance he was in. If his luck wasn’t on his side, his anger would be. I grabbed his face and forced him to look at Yuki. "She's making fun of you, the woman who broke your brother's heart and blamed you for it! Are you going to let her make fun of the king of the ring?! Think about your fans.”

"Sukuna has fans?” Yuuji scoffed.

"If Sukuna has a fan, it's me. If Sukuna has no fans, it is because I am dead. If the world is against Sukuna, then I am against the world,” I said seriously, but the brothers started laughing. My cheeks blushed as I realized what a silly thing I had said. In fact, it was the first time I heard Sukuna laugh out loud. He had a cute smile on his face.

"Stop joking around! We're running out of time,” Gojo scolded us. "Sukuna, you've been boxing all this time. Don't be afraid to use your legs. I know he's a little taller than you, but that's the way you can reach him,” Gojo advised him before they called the fighters back.

Sukuna and Todo met again in the center of the octagon and the bell rang announcing the last round. This was no time to blink. Now everything was in Sukuna's hands. Aoi went at him, looking for the same knockout he had been unable to achieve in the last 20 minutes of the fight. Sukuna was still maintaining his guard as Todo directs his fists to his face. His feet were moving around the octagon in a tug of war that shortened and distanced them with each transition. My athlete looked more focused than he had in the last few rounds, but he needed something better than that.

"Come on, Todo, let your guard down,” Yuuji prayed out loud beside me.

There was one minute left on the clock and every second was ticking faster than it should. They were bathed in sweat and blood from open wounds. I wondered what Sukuna was thinking in the midst of the chaos. Todo stepped into Sukuna's space to punch him, but he nimbly dodged it. Taking advantage of Todo being in his space, Sukuna kicked him squarely in the face with a spinning kick. His rival lost his balance, staggered backwards and fell backwards on the canvas.

"Go for it!” I shouted euphorically to Sukuna, but he didn't need my instruction to know what to do.

Sukuna pounced on Todo to beat him relentlessly. The crowd went crazy and Todo’s team was just yelling at him to get up. Team Black exclaimed incoherently from the excitement. Todo made no successful attempt to get up or defend himself. The referee stepped between them, announcing the end of the fight. Sukuna had won by technical knockout. The king of the ring got up tired and ran to the fence while the applause invaded his ears.

"That bastard did it!” I exclaimed excitedly before climbing the fence to meet my champion and hug him. "You're the best, Sukuna!” I sobbed with joy. Tears of happiness cascaded down my cheeks.

"Are you going to cry again?” Sukuna asked me, annoyed, wiping my tears with his thumbs.

"Let me enjoy the last time I will cry for you,” I said with a smile.

Sukuna half opened his lips as if he was about to tell me something, but closed them again. I have no idea what he could have been holding back. I couldn't overthink things like that when the king of the ring had beaten the champion destroyer.

I didn't hesitate to sign my letter of resignation. I was going to miss Nanami's office. The mahogany furniture made a nice contrast to the silver machinery in the rest of the gym. It was a little oasis of calm in the middle of a chaotic place. There were pictures of him with Yuuji, Sukuna and Gojo in Malaysia, collectible action figures of the king of the ring and plaques of all the fights won by fighters in Team Black. I handed over my official jacket, Sukuna's important analysis documents and my key to the gym on the desk.

"It's a pity you have to leave, but we wish you the best of luck in your professional career,” Nanami said to me in her professional voice once he put the papers in their respective folders.

"Thank you for offering me the job,” I told him. "Uraume will be here in a week. I'm sure it won't take Sukuna long to get used to them.”

Having to leave for my gym meant that Sukuna would be without a floor technique coach, so I called Uraume to see if they were interested in the position. They were one of my first coaches when I decided to leave the Zen’in temple. They were very strict, but that's Sukuna's style anyway. Nanami thanked me for the time and led me out of his office. As soon as he opened the door, I was in for a big surprise.

"We’ll miss you, Snake!” Yuuji, Gojo, Shoko and the rest of the fighters were gathered to bid me farewell.

"Oh, guys...” I said while trying not to cry at how nice they thought of giving me a surprise goodbye.

"I hope you like red velvet cake,” Megumi said appearing in the crowd with a cake decorated with a paper Medusa head and the words “bon voyage” in icing.

"Megumi, you’re here!” I squealed before hugging him. As soon as he hugged me back, I noticed that his biceps and triceps had grown. The training with his father was working for him.

"Even though he no longer trains with us, he is still an honorable member of Team Black, just like you,” Yuuji said excitedly.

"Thank you all for the pleasant surprise. I said with a smile while memorizing the faces of everyone present, although... someone was missing. "Hey, and Sukuna?” I asked.

"He went to the CrossFit gym, but you'll see him tonight. Sukuna said you could choose a place to celebrate his victory and your farewell,” Gojo told me.

A week had passed since the fight. It was a tradition to eat at Sukuna's favorite sports bar after every fight he won, so it had seemed strange to me that he hadn't invited us to lunch as was customary. I was glad to know that this time he wanted to give me the choice. In the end I opted to hold the celebration at a local Korean BBQ restaurant.

The restaurant was bursting at the seams. Almost all the circular tables were occupied by Team Black members. My sense of smell was permeated by the meat cooking over on the grill in the center and the fermented seasonings. Gojo and Nanami chatted pleasantly while Yuuji and Megumi filled me in on how their father's gym was doing. A waitress brought us the bottle of sake Nanami had ordered to celebrate properly.

"Come on, have a drink with me,” I asked Sukuna as I poured him a glass.

"No,” he said before drinking from his glass of water in an attempt to ignore me.

"Don't be like that, just one,” I begged him as I poured him a drink. He kept ignoring me. "Do it for me, as a parting gift,” I pouted. Sukuna looked at me, tempting to listen to me.

"Chug, chug, chug!” Yuuji chanted excitedly along with Gojo. Gradually, the rest of the team began to chant for Sukuna to cheer up.

"Just one,” he agreed before taking the glass that had been poured for him.

"Here's to a bright future,” I proposed a toast with my glass in hand.

"To a bright future!” They all exclaimed in unison with their drinks in hand.

"Cheers!” I exclaimed before Sukuna and I downed the glass in one gulp.

"Hey, do you like Star Wars?” Sukuna asked me, slurring his words from the effects of the alcohol.

After he had a second glass of sake, Sukuna was red in the face and started to be funny with everyone. I could see why he had turned me down every time I offered to drink with me. I knew the “he didn't drink alcohol because of the calories and carbohydrates” was some bullshit. The reality is that he has zero tolerance for alcohol. As soon as Sukuna started saying things like “Yuki wishes I would fuck her”, Nanami asked me to bring him home.

"No, why?” I asked him to keep him awake as I carried him to his room.

"Because Yoda only one for me!” He answered before deflating like a balloon as if he had told the best joke in the world. I could only roll my eyes, but I still laughed.

When we got to his room, I threw him on the bed to let my poor body rest. If Sukuna was a big, heavy man when he was sober, when he was drunk he was like carrying 5 bags of cement on my back. While he was telling terrible dad jokes, I took off his shoes so he could rest comfortably. Even though it was wrong for him to get drunk, I was glad to see him so happy. I always see him angry and worried about being the best. Now he didn't have to worry about that, he could be himself.

"Stay here, I'll get you a glass of water,” I asked him before leaving the room.

I looked for a glass in the cabinets and took the water pitcher out of the refrigerator. I smiled as I remembered the stupid joke I had made. Was this the Sukuna I didn't know? A joking boy with a cute smile that made me laugh out loud. It was a shame I barely saw this side of him after almost a year of working together, but I was glad I had seen him before I left. I heard some bare footsteps coming towards me, “Oh no way,” I thought before turning around to confront him.

"Sukuna, I told you to stay in be-” I was about to scold him, but he shut me up in the most unexpected way.

I didn't even have time to think by the time he had pulled me close to his lips, holding me gently by the nape of my neck. He hugged me to his body around my waist, so I could feel his heart beating like crazy, just like mine. I didn't know what to say, think or do. This was definitely not the Sukuna I had met in Las Vegas, this was a sweet, gentle, romantic man. This was the Sukuna I wanted to meet, why was he showing up here and now? His lips said everything and nothing at the same time.

"No, you're drunk. You don't know what you're doing,” I told him before pushing him by the chest.

"I know exactly what I'm doing,” he said with his cheeks still flushed. I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or the embarrassment.

Even though his eyes told me he was serious, I didn't believe him. I couldn't believe him. It had taken me so long to fall out of love with him and here I was, about to throw all my hard work away. Sukuna got closer to kiss my forehead softly. He ran down my face leaving little kisses all over, little love bites until he reached my ear. He kissed my ear and then proceeded to suck on my earlobe. A flirtatious tingle ran down my spine. This had gone too far already.

"I can't, I like your brother,” I said as I pushed him again.

"Yuuji is Megumi's boyfriend.” He confessed. I already knew that, it was so obvious.

"I'm talking about Choso. I promised to call him when I stopped being your coach.” I explained.

"You choose him?” He asked me in a whisper as if he was afraid that someone else would hear our conversation.

That was the real question. I had spent almost a month mentally debating why Choso was a better match prospect than him. I should have told him “yes” for sure, but something was holding me back, and I didn't know what exactly it was. He grabbed my chin to force me to look into his eyes. Those deep eyes that the Itadori brothers shared, but his could stand out in a large crowd.

"Yes…” I whispered. He nodded and turned away from me. At last, I could breathe again. "You should drink some water.” I said before passing him the glass I had poured for him.

“Fine, under one condition.” Was this déjà vu? "You'll sleep with me tonight.”

"I'm not fucking with you,” I crossed my arms, offended.

"I said ‘sleep’, not ‘fuck’,” he clarified.

"Why do you want to sleep with me?” I asked confused.

"I want to watch a movie with you.”

After Sukuna drank his glass of water, we sat under the sheets of her bed to watch whatever was on the old movie channel. I was really surprised that he wanted to watch Casablanca, I didn't think he was one of those movie suckers. Sukuna looked so good in his half open black robe, leaving his strong chest exposed, and his thick framed blue filtered glasses. I looked back at the TV as I realized where my thoughts were going.

Even though we were a considerable distance apart, the atmosphere we had created felt so intimate. We were like a couple who had been married for over 30 years. There may not have been a spark of lust, but we knew for a fact that we were there for each other.

"I didn't know you liked these movies,” I said with my eyes glued to the screen.

"I don't,” I answered. My brow furrowed on its own at that answer.

"Then why are we watching it? I asked confused.

"Because I have insomnia and this helps me sometimes sleep.”

That explained why he was such a first"rate grump. He doesn't rest well, he can't take sleeping medication because it might show up as drugs on UFC medical tests, and his body has to be active during the day.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?” I asked him while the scene where Rick and Ilsa say goodbye at the airport after spending a night together.

"Would anything have changed if I had told you?” Why did I feel he wasn't referring to his insomnia?

"But what about us?” Ilsa cried to Rick.

"We’ll always have Paris,” he answered with melancholy in his voice.

SUKUNA POV

“What the fuck is wrong with me, why did I think I was a goddamn romantic movie lead?! Those movies are already affecting me for the worse,” I thought as I took out the fury in myself on the punching bag. I was sweating like a pig and my shoulders were barely holding up to the exercise, but that was my punishment for kissing the girl my brother likes. The same story could not repeat itself. Choso was just coming back into my life, I couldn't do that to him. I'm a big, stupid idiot.

"Hey, that sack has already suffered enough,” Gojo said, stopping me. "It's 9 o'clock at night, you've been here since 4 am. You ate here, slept on the stretcher and even bought a candy bar from the vending machine. I know you're a high-performance athlete and all, but this is too much,” Gojo took off my headphones to get my attention.

Being Sunday night, the gym was practically empty. I was supposed to go home, but I couldn't do that. Y/n was there, I wouldn't know how to see her after I had made her sleep with me. I didn't even want to get out of bed in the morning to see her up close as she slept with her mouth open and her hair matted, but despite that, she looked so adorable.

"I'm fine,” I said. I tried to go back to the bag, but my coach didn’t let me.

"This is because she's moving to another city, isn't it?” Gojo asked me. Was I being too obvious? "Your surprised face says yes.”

I sat down on the metal bench behind me and ran a towel over my face to wipe off the sweat. Gojo sat down next to me and patted me on the back a couple of times.

"Don't worry, you'll see her at other sporting events, maybe we can do a collaboration with her gym in the future. You will have many opportunities to see her.” Gojo comforted me. "Yuuji told me that Choso will ask her to be his boyfriend soon, possibly they will become a family.”

Y/n getting married in a white dress, lace veil and a beautiful arrangement of white flowers in her hand. I would be at the altar waiting for her with my hand outstretched to live the rest of our lives together, have children and maybe probably a cat named Garfield. Only to wake up from my dream and realize that hand is not mine, but my little brother's. That thought just twisted my stomach and I slammed the water bottle on the floor from the helplessness of not being able to do anything about it. Gojo was startled by the sudden act.

"I was the one who beat up her ex-boyfriend, I was the one who kept her safe, I was the one who defended her from my mother's aggressive comments! Choso hasn't even done anything for her!” I exclaimed annoyed with the whole situation. I jumped out of the seat to start walking from one side to the other in an attempt to get my anger down. "She doesn't know that Choso stopped wetting the bed until he was 12, that he's afraid of clowns and that he still thinks his ex-fiancée is the love of his life! We slept together twice, I showed her how much of a man I can be, how happy I can make her and still...!” I stopped as I realized that a tear escaped from my right eye and had slid down to my chin.

"Come here, boy,” Gojo said before hugging me.

"She picked him...” I cried to the only person I can trust.

"God, I knew you liked her, but I didn't think it was that serious.” Gojo told me as he hugged me tightly.

"I can't tell her. If I tell her, Choso will never speak to me again. I can't lose my brother again,” I said as I tried to wipe away my wild tears, but they wouldn't stop coming. "She was the only one who believed in me. Even when my parents and Yuuji didn't.”

She was the only one who supported me above all things and always made sure I knew that. She was loyal to me, in everything but love. What did it cost her to look at me with those eyes too? She has been the only woman I've ever seen that way, and I was about to lose her forever. I was sure I would never find someone like her ever. They might look alike in appearance like that prostitute in Brazil, but they weren't even close to her heels.

Boxes kept piling up at the entrance. Boxes of clothes, boxes with decorations, boxes, and more boxes announced Y/n's upcoming departure. I helped her carry them down to the moving truck that Choso had rented to take them to the new apartment she would share with her friend, Nobara, in Nagoya. I told her I would pay for the entire move, but she said Choso would take care of it.

"I think that would be it,” Y/n said before putting the last box in the back. "This is where we say, ‘I'll see you later.’” She said before bowing respectfully to me and then shaking my hand.

I shook her hand for a cordial farewell. This would be the last time I would touch her smooth skin and feel her firm grip. I was devastated inside, but I had to fake a smile on the outside. It was for everyone's sake. This was for the best.

"Thank you for allowing me to work with you. I learned many things. Please watch my fights,” she asked me cordially. I doubted very much that I would watch them.

"Thank you for training me, even if you didn't want to at first,” I answered.

"I always wanted to train you. Didn't I ever tell you the reason?” She asked me, surprised at herself. I didn't know what she was talking about, I thought she thought I was a big asshole from the start. "After your fight with Suguru Geto, my first coach, I was very curious to meet you to know the secret of your skills. Now that I know, I doubt I can replicate it,” she said with a playful wink, referring to my lucky ritual.

"We have to go now, or it will get dark,” Choso said to Y/n while hugging her by the shoulders.

"We'll be in touch,” she said excitedly.

The new couple got into the truck, and they didn’t look back as I waved goodbye to them from the curb. I pulled out my phone to look up Y/n's contact to change her name from “Coach ♥️” to “DON’T ANSWER.” It was for the best.

Masterlist.

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