#solo wing fury

[sonics-atelier]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐧

For @lucienweekofficial Day 5 : Home

I was cast from the hearth of Autumn's glow,

A leaf, broken, forgotten, adrift in cold winds.

Not even the roots of the trees could remember me,

Only whispers in the dark, calling me freak,

A shadow of something once whole,

Now a shape that never belonged.

They told me I was too sharp, too wild—

My wings too wide, my spirit too hungry,

But no one ever asked the heart of me.

They turned their backs, they closed their gates,

And left me to rot in a world unmade.

I fled Spring's gilded fields, the air too sweet,

The scent of home too bitter on my tongue,

And now I roam like a ghost with no name,

No star to guide me, no shore to reach.

Fugitive of bloodlines, cast adrift on cursed tides,

A pariah crowned by the silence of exile.

What am I if not this :

A wanderer too scarred to be soothed,

A hollowed-out thing with no place to rest—

A beast of the borders, a heart in tatters,

Clawing at the scraps of a world that never was mine.

Even the moon's light is cold,

A pale witness to my endless search for home,

But how can I find peace when the storm

Is stitched into the fabric of my bones?

I was doomed from the first crack of breaking,

From the first time I was not enough —

Not soft enough, not still enough,

Not anything anyone ever wanted.

I carry the weight of every door closed,

And the ache of an unhealed wound

That no lover, no friend, no court could mend.

For I am a son of the lost,

And I am always, always

At war with myself.

- @sonics-atelier 2024 ( do not repost or reuse in any way, shape or form )

Dividers by @cafekitsune <3

[sparkrls]

set a love alight

MASTERLIST

part of the bandmates! harry x yn au

Summary: in which Y/N makes mistakes and Harry remind her she’s only human

Author’s Note: just needed some emotional Y/N with sweetheart Harry. remember to like and reblog because i crave validation. love ya <3

Word Count: 1.3k

•••

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Y/N cursed, pushing past the mess of wires and equipment backstage and pushing through the door of the emergency exit. The door swung open, slamming against the brick wall before clicking shut again.

Kicking at a small rock in the gravel, Y/N tried to release her fury. A choked sob escaped her raw throat, the burning reminding her of the fatal mistake she’d made that night.

Ambition had been her downfall. She’d let herself be overly confident in her abilities and had reached too high, her wings scorched by the sun.

Y/N fell to the ground. She didn’t bother to sit down gently, simply just letting her knees give out beneath her. She curled her knees up to her chest, hugging them and linking her hands together.

The hem of her skirt rode up, reaching her upper thigh. Usually, she might tug it down, but she was a bit too busy crying to even think about something so trivial like her skirt.

A pair of hands settled on her shoulders. Y/N was startled at the sudden touch. She could’ve sworn she was alone.

Eyeliner and makeup smudged from crying, Y/N looked up to find that Harry was crouched in front of her, his gaze soft and warm. She quickly tried to wipe her tears away, but he caught her wrists and pulled them down to her sides.

Harry’s voice was soft, barely a whisper, “Baby. It’s okay.” He was handling her like shattered glass, doing his best to not slit his hand while picking up the sharp fragments. “I’m here.”

Y/N didn’t like for people to see her cry. Not only was she an ugly crier, but she hated when people saw her so vulnerable. It felt wrong. And she didn’t cry often anyways. But when she did, it was messy and wild.

“I screwed up,” Y/N whispered, hating how her voice broke when she was barely audible. A pool of shame gathered in her stomach, weighing her down and suffocating her.

Harry sat down next to her, his arm wrapping around her shoulder. He leaned forward to meet her eyes. “Yeah. You did. And?”

“And?” She said, her voice raising a bit. “And I humiliated myself. I was so fucking bad.”

“You were nervous and you made a mistake,” Harry said steadily, his voice never raising. “It happens to the best of us.”

“I shouldn’t have taken that solo,” Y/N said with the shake of her head, another tear spilling against her will.

They had decided to perform their new song, ‘Set A Love Alight’. Y/N and Harry had written it just three weeks ago, and they decided to play it at this gig they’d booked at the bar they regularly played at, 17 Black.

After a long time of reluctance and hesitation, Y/N had decided to do the song as a solo. Up until now, Harry was always the one singing. Occasionally, Sarah or Mitch would sing a verse or two, but for the most part, Harry was the vocal powerhouse. Everyone liked it that way, everyone felt comfortable.

And Y/N had never dared to sing anything except backing vocals. And for the last few months, Harry had been trying to convince her to sing at least one verse of a song. He’d hyped her up, encouraging her to do so and telling her how amazing her voice was about a million times.

After a long time of pleading, Harry’d gotten what he wanted and more. Y/N took on the burden of an entire song. And tonight was not only the debut of the new song, but also of her voice.

Weeks of rehearsals had fallen down the drain when Y/N started singing and her voice came out shaky with nerves. Her hands were shaking and she didn’t hit the right chords on the guitar. And her lungs started constricting, making it hard for her to complete the lines without gasping for air. And all of this combined into the messiest performance the band had ever performed.

At the end of the song, Y/N was holding back tears and the small amount of people paying attention to the band clapped politely, but she heard the whispers of judgement. And when she turned to look at the band, the three of them were looking at her with pity in their eyes.

That was how she’d rushed off stage, thrusting her guitar into the hands of someone she passed by, possibly even a bystander just walking by. She didn’t even look at their face before walking out in tears.

“Love, you’re a good singer,” Harry said with a small sigh, caressing her cheek with his thumb. Her eyes fluttered shut. “You got nervous. It happens to everyone. You just have to learn how to control those nerves, that’s all.”

Y/N took a shaky breath, holding back a sob. “I made everyone look bad.”

Harry let out a small laugh. Y/N opened her eyes to glare at him. He rushed to say, “Baby, I wasn’t making fun of you, I swear. I just… I’ve made countless mistakes on stage. My voice has cracked, I’ve missed high notes, I’ve mixed up verses, I’ve sung off-key. But my mistakes don’t take away from my talent.” He pulled her forward to hug her. “Not to toot my own horn, but I’m a good singer. Because I was persistent and a hard worker. I didn’t give up even when I had moments where I sounded like shit and thought I had humiliated myself to a degree no other human being ever had.”

Y/N took a deep breath. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“Which part?” Harry asked, curiously. He was ever as bright as always, but so soft and gentle. He was a sweetheart above anything else.

“Getting on stage and giving an amazing as fuck performance each time,” Y/N said. She shook her head. “You’re amazing, H.”

Harry shrugged. “It’s what I know how to do. I’ve done it my entire life. The same way you always play the guitar ‘amazing as fuck’.” He scrunched his nose up at her as he mocked her words. She let out a small chuckle. He smiled, pleased at himself. He always pulled a smile out of her. “It takes time and experience. I promise next time you get on stage to sing you’ll be better. Not perfect, just better. And someday, you won’t even remember tonight as anything more than just another story to tell and laugh at.”

Y/N pursed her lips, silent for a moment in thought. He was right. He always was.

Somehow, Harry always managed to make the tears seem like just another silly hurdle to jump over. The world seemed so much easier to face when he spoke about it so simply.

And with Harry holding her in his arms, who wouldn’t be ready to take on anything the universe threw her way?

Harry let out a small sigh, running his fingers through her hair. “You’ll be okay, love.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

Harry always took care of her with love. Not as if she were fractured sharp glass, but as if she were a bouquet of flowers you settled into a vase with care as to not let a single petal drop.

And Y/N wished she were as sweet as him. She wished she could be as good and pure as he was, to give him the affection he needed. The care he gave her was the kind he should be receiving.

“I love you,” Y/N whispered, starting off with something small to remind him of her love.

Harry smiled, as if she’d made some grand declaration of love and hung a star in the night sky for him. “I love you too.”

[useless-moss]

Back with the dragon headcanons.

This episode: The Night Fury

Buckle up, this is a long one.

Color variations! Their whole body is usually a dark color. Shades of black/dark grey, dark blue, dark purple are the most common. However, they also have lighter colored patterns on the underside of their wings. Blurred together scales and marks that resemble the northern lights and/or a galaxy type design. It started as a mutation meant for better camouflage, but eventually turned into a mating thing like with peacocks. A night fury has really pretty patterns/designs on the underside of their wings? They have a better chance of getting a mate.

Patterns. They have darker markings and patterns. Think of a black jaguar or a tabby cat for reference. Also, accompanying the previously mentioned designs on the underside of their wings, white speckles that look like stars and can even extend to their underbelly.

Toothless has melanism, hense his more solidly black design, and is actually considered even more rare because of his coloration alone.

They have the widest eye color variation among dragons. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, even shades that look purple are possible.

They usually live in large packs led by a female alpha/queen. If you find one Night Fury, there's usually at least ten more nearby.

Night Fury's in a pack are able to fight the control of dragons like the Red Death and Bewilderbeast more easily since, well, they already have an alpha they're following. Solo Night Furys are still strong willed and can break out with enough trying, but it's significantly harder.

Night Furys are one of if not the most intelligent dragon species. They're able to adapt to different environments, learn from observation to mimic other animal, dragon, and even human behavior, can recognize human weapons, and are smart enough to strategize hunting plans.

Building onto that last point, they don't hunt anywhere near where they nest. They'll fly miles away to hunt for, usually, fish. At least half of the pack will leave at a time while the other half stays back to guard the hatchling, eggs, and nesting area in general. This behavior was learned and adopted after being hunted to near extinction.

Their favorite nesting places are areas that humans can't easily get to. Large cliffs with rocky/rushing water below and in areas prone to storms. Again, a learned behavior from being hunted.

More nesting info, they use a combination of their plasma blasts and claws to dig/carve out caves into said cliffs, which is where they'll nest. Cliff side in an area you can't get too close to on boat with a bunch of holes in the side? Congrats! You probably just found a Night Fury nesting ground and should turn back quickly.

Night Furys aren't inherently aggressive or hostile at all, really. They're wary of humans for obvious reasons, and will defend themselves and their pack/territory, but otherwise they're pretty laid back. Big cats, essentially. Don't be a threat, give them space, and you get to live. This is partly due to them being smart enough to recognize via body language, tone, and even supplies if someone or something is a threat or not.

You want to tame a Night Fury? No weapons, bring food, and again give space. Let them come to you, because they will eventually. Will begin to realize you're not a threat, then realize you bring snacks, then accept that you're pretty alright and begin allowing more physical contact/affection and eventually be okay riding/flying with you. It's a slow process built entirely on trust and mutual respect. If you start getting pushy with a Night Fury, especially too soon in the process, they'll push you away and you have to start from scratch.

Night Fury's are very, very, very protective and loyal. Arguably one of the best dragons to tame purely off of the fact they'll stick with you until the very end and do everything possible to keep you safe.

Once you've tamed or generally befriended a Night Fury you're considered part of the pack. Dynamic from there depends on the type of Night Fury you're dealing with. An adult/older male or female with a history of hatchlings? They'll likely consider you as one of their own babies. A juvenile/younger male or female? They'll likely see you more as a sibling. A hatchling? Hope you're ready to be a parent cause that's what they'll likely see you as.

Cuddle piles. They'll usually sleep cuddled up with littlermates and parents in a pile of sort for warmth and security. This is a behavior that persists into adulthood, since it's a source of comfort and stability as well as a bonding experience.

You know the smaller nubs on a Night Fury's head? Hatchlings tend to suckle on those for comfort. There's literally no other reason. It's like a baby with a pacifier, essentially.

My personal favorite now, SCRUFF! Hatchlings have looser yet tougher skin on the back of their neck that acts as a scruff, allowing adults to pick them up and carry them around easily. As they age it stretches and thins and, eventually, that pressure point we saw in httyd 2 becomes 'exposed.' At that point a parent or other adult Night Fury will nudge the spot with their snout or claws to activate it. This whole process usually occurs around early juvenile/teen stages, since that's when a night fury will begin actively joining hunting parties and need to fly with more speed and agility.

[alphabetboyluvr]

THROTTLE - JJK | EIGHT

one/ two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven

warnings - welcome one and all to the chapters that made some of my wattpad girlies stop reading throttle, you have been warned! mentions of drugs. jungkook wears a key around his neck and it ain't for a door! solo masturbation (m). enter stage left: cc @ yoongi's door. infidelity (boo), dry humping (yay), yoongi has a choking kink (?), he cums in his pants <3 back for round two! not all that explicit, oral (f), he's so talkative <3, protected sex, incredibly sombre aftermath!! v satisfying end to the chapter IMO!!

word count - 16.5k

minors dni // series masterlist

It surprises everyone when Jungkook is the first to speak. He stands, shoulders broadening like a fallen angel unfolding its wings, and then he's back.

The man you once knew? It's undeniably him. He's still just as powerful in his stature as he always was, just as handsome, just as life-threateningly attractive.

For a second - only a moment, barely even a millisecond - you let yourself indulge in the chime your stomach has been subduing.

It's just the same as it always has been.

He's different now, though. So vastly different, you question whether or not you would have recognised him in the street.

His hair is dark, and it doesn't frame his face in the way it used to. Shame. You used to love getting your fingers tangled in it. It's pushed back now, the fury in his dark brows as clear as day. They're missing a piercing, which you'll admit is a bitter loss, but the lip ring is still there, at least.

You don't let yourself think about the one on his tongue. Haven't thought about it for weeks. Months.

Only because every time you do, you force yourself to think about roadkill instead. It's the only way you can get it out of your head. Does now mean that when you see roadkill, you think about him. Fitting, really, given the tragedy of your time spent together.

Instead of letting him know just how fucked up he still gets you, you simply raise a brow in his direction. Your back sinks into the chair you've poised yourself on, and you cross your arms, imploring him to speak the fuck up.

Part of him doesn't want to, just as 'fuck you' to your prissy rich bitch attitude. He'd forgotten about this; how much a little cunt you'd been when the pair of you had first met. Back then, it had gotten his interest piqued. Kept him coming back for more. Was the thing that got him cumming, full stop.

But now, it just feels vindictive.

And so he decides to be just as much of a vindictive swine back.

"No one's been looking for you," he says as his eyes burn into you - and yet you remain perfectly cool. Calm. Unaffected.

There was a time, a few moons ago, when a look like this from Jungkook would have surely killed you. Now, it's just all very laughable.

"Eunhee's never been much of a liar, Jungkook," you smile, glad to have checked in with her before heading to the boxing club. Maybe he did stop showing up at your door two months ago, but it was enough of a weapon to use against him.

"That senile old bat?" He laughs, and you remember just how mean he could be. It's a trait that you'd pushed to the side in your memories, all rose-tinted and sweet. The reality makes those memories a lot easier to swallow, the salt from his words diluting the sugar. "Wouldn't take her as a credible source."

The air around the pair of you is stale; unpleasant. It reeks of desperation. Desperate for what? It's debatable. Nothing good, that's for sure.

Quite literally everyone in the room is uncomfortable.

Everyone except for the pair of you.

See, this is a back and forth you've perfected. The way you bicker - the way you taunt one another - used to be foreplay. He'd rile you up just ruin you.

It's electric. Jungkook wonders what has more volts - your shared energy, or the taser he's pretty sure you've got hidden in your bag. You're too smart to come somewhere like this completely defenceless.

He's just as smart as you, though. Reads your moves, and knows exactly what to predict. Maybe it's not a form of intelligence that will do any good, but he's spent so long studying you that it would be impossible for him to not be an expert by this point.

He could write an encyclopedia about you; a dictionary based on your vocabulary.

He'd file himself under 'asshole', and would hope you'd reassign him to 'inamorato'. You wouldn't. If anything, you'd place him in a pile of discards; words unused by you for so long that you've forgotten their significance in your life.

If he were to have his own dictionary, he'd file you under cocotte. CC for short. But he'd draw fucking hearts in the margins, and crack the spine from just how often he looked at your page. Might just rip it out and keep it in his wallet like a passport photo.

"Credible source?" You smirk, ruby red lips pouting in a way that feels new to him. They're slightly different, he thinks. The shape is the same, but they seem poutier. The product of fillers, maybe. He never thought you'd be one to go down that route, but he's questioning everything he knew about you as the lights of the club reflect in the diamond on your finger. He's blinded by it; blindsided by you. "Surely this isn't Jeon Jungkook talking about credibility? About trust? That'd be a first."

"Watch your fuckin' mouth," he snaps, and it's clear you've hit a nerve. Good. "Got shit to say? Say it, then get fuckin' gone, C."

And, oh, it's painful. So gloriously painful.

The way you don't falter is the worst part. The name given to you in the sanctuary of his car lingers on his tongue, his lips ajar. There's no crease between his brow, eyes just as round and inviting as they always had been.

You think he's baiting you. Think he's trying to get your defences down. You don't realise that his defences actually are - not until he knocks his head to the side, flicking a switch as his glare returns.

"I think what Jungkook is trying to say," Jin speaks up, knowing that there'll be no resolution without a mediator. He can feel the energy between the pair of you. The vibrations run deep and jagged, stained in red and echoing regret. "Is that we aren't aware there was business to discuss?"

You turn to face Jin, but let your eyes linger on Jungkook for just a second longer before you address his friend. Handsome, you think. Incredibly handsome, in fact.

You've always thought Jungkook was the most beautiful thing about Daegu, but you might change your mind. All you need is this new guy - the one with plump lips and shoulders that eclipse Jungkook's - to glare at you. See if it gets you searing under the collar, hot between your legs, like Jungkook's glare does.

Many men before have looked at you with suspended disbelief, agitation curving around their brow bones. It's nothing new. The way that Jungkook's glare could have gotten you on your knees? That was new to you.

"Nor was I - or at least, I wasn't. Not until Jungkook told me about that little plan of yours a few months ago," you say as you smile at Jin, all pleasant and performative."But I'm very selective about who I invest my time in."

You don't have to look at Jungkook for him to know that he should take your next statement personally.

"I've no time for little boys running around playing cops and robbers. I conduct my business exactly like that; like a business. I make negotiations, I make deals. Sign contracts - and I'd never hire someone without running a background check. Can get yourself into a whole world of trouble if you don't know who someone really is."

"You're planning on employing us?" Namjoon pipes up, the prospect of a hefty payday sounding like music to his ears.

"Not employing," you say. There's more you could divulge. So much more. But it's time for baby steps, now. No use in getting ahead of yourselves. "Think of it more like... entering a partnership. A mutually beneficial agreement."

"Your appearance on TV today," Jin says, the most analytical of the bunch, trying to figure you out. "How would that help to aid your negotiations?"

You smile. It's quite simple, really.

"That was to stop you from thinking you could ever fucking touch me."

There's more venom than you intend there to be behind your words, but you haven't quite healed from the last invasion of your autonomy. You're still disgusted but how easily you were manipulated into thinking that Jungkook ever gave a fuck about you. If they think they're ever getting the chance of getting that close again, they're sorely mistaken.

"The world is watching boys," You continue. "One wrong move, and the world will be asking: what happened to her? It's my way to keep you in check. Anyways, let's not get ahead of ourselves. Who do you work for?"

"Who do you work for?" Jungkook spits back.

"Myself. Answer my question."

Jin takes the reins from Jungkook. "We're not at liberty to say."

"Fine," you shrug, getting to your feet. You're here to talk with men, not boys. If they can't make decisions for themselves, then what's the point? "I'll be on my way then. Time is money boys, and if you aren't willing to give me a dime, then it's not worth it for me. I don't need you."

"Yeah, well, if you don't need us, then why the fuck are you here?"

The way Jungkook's nostrils flare amuses you. Let's you know the real question he's asking: If you don't need me, why did you come back? Back here, specifically?

It's a good question. One you wish you had a solid answer for.

"There are rats all over this city," you tell them, thinking that it'd be best to choose at least a half-truth. "I don't know many of them, not well. Not personally. Don't know you fuckers personally, either - very rude of you, by the way, to break into my apartment like that. I'm sure Jungkook could have just told you the code - but anyways, I digress. I know how you operate, to a certain degree."

"Oh, yeah?" Jungkook questions, doubting that very much. "How do we operate?"

"Like fucking idiots," you say with a voice as flat as his tyres after a few too many burnouts. "You send in unprepared fuckers who think with their dicks instead of their brains."

Jungkook scoffs, but the rest of them wave their heads a little, contemplating the fact that you're entirely correct.

"I know your weak spots," you say, but choose not to elaborate on the fact that you were once Jungkook's. You sit back down; an act of defiance for the fact that Jungkook quite clearly doesn't want you there. "And I know some of your strengths. I also know that we have a mutual interest in the downfall of my father. Might not trust you fuckers as far as I can throw you, but I trust that your feelings towards him won't have changed all that much in three months."

"Yours seem to have changed," Jungkook notes all rather bitterly, and it makes you laugh.

You lean forward in your seat, elbow resting on your knee, chin in your palm. Your ring glistens in the light, but Jungkook ignores it. Wishes he could ignore you, full-stop, but he can't take his eyes off you. Deprived for so long, he doesn't know when he'll get this luxury again.

The fact that you're in the boxing club alone - unprotected, despite it all - should be indication enough that your feelings towards your father haven't changed. Why risk it? Why put yourself in a circumstance where you could be used against him if you weren't willing for that to happen?

"Look at you," you smile, but it's laced in contempt. "Finally making assumptions of your own. I'm proud. You got a little way to go, though, baby. You're missing the mark. Give it some time and you'll be able to make assumptions that check out."

The pet name is delivered with such ease that Jungkook almost doesn't notice it. It's the look in your eyes that really delivers it, the chaos and confusion you're conveying in one simple smirk.

"Like yours did when we first met?" He says with a raised brow, thinking you've never made an accurate assumption in the whole entire time he's known you.

"I assumed you were a cunt. Ding, ding, ding. Always right."

This earns a snicker from Namjoon, who can admittedly see why Jungkook liked you so much. There's something about you that gets the heart rate going; gets people interested in what you have to say.

Jungkook says nothing. Rolls his eyes, and grates his jaw. Doesn't see any point in conversing if you're just gonna be a bitch. He always knew you were like this, but he'd managed to chip away at your softer side and had somehow forgotten just how hard your exterior is.

You've fortified it, now though. Built your defences up. It's been three months, and you've not wasted a day. Naive of him to think you would have. You're your father's daughter after all.

"Look," you turn to Jin, still pretty and poised, but this time there's an air of sincerity to your words. "I'm waving a white flag here. You fuckers are lucky I came to your first. Might not trust anyone else in the city, but I don't trust you either. Thing is, boys, I'm traceable. If you try and do anything to me now, you fuckers'll get caught."

"So why would we want to do business with you?" He questions, incredibly curious. He thought after everything with Jungkook, that'd be the last you would see of him.

"Cause I was always traceable, you silly cunts. Do you think just cause I wasn't on speaking terms with my dad, that that was it? The moment you did the raid, I was back on his radar. I'm your connection. I'm your way in," you say, gesturing to yourself to really drive it home how important you could be for them. "If you want to bring him down - if you want to take him for all that he's worth - then you need someone on the inside. You need me. Honestly, the fact you thought a ransom situation would work is laughable, but it just shows you're lucky to have brains now to go with your brawn."

"We haven't agreed to anything," Jin reminds you. There's a warmth to his voice that contrasts the atmosphere within the room.

"No, but you will."

"Why?" Jungkook interrupts, eyes narrow, voice scornful. He's picking at the sides of his fingers, chipping away at hangnails.

"Cause what more do you have to lose, huh?" You shrug. "You're Kang's bitches, now. Wouldn't you rather be mine? I give great employee perks."

The way your eyes dance around the room, from man to man, and eventually land on Jungkook's is deliberate. He knows this, and he lets it get to him.

"What would they be?" Namjoon scoffs, unaware of your innuendo. It's kind of sweet, how naive he is.

And so naturally, you shatter all illusion of innocence.

"Ask Jungkook."

There's silence. No one quite knows how to reply.

No one except Jungkook.

"Ring on your finger be happy with you saying that?"

And for the first time, you're rattled. You hadn't expected him to mention it.

"That's of none of your concern," you shrug. Now's not the time to let him get to you - but the way you rabbit on afterwards is evidence enough that he has. "I'm not here to be interrogated. I'm extending an olive branch; giving you the chance to earn the money you were so desperately trying to make from me. You get your money, I get my father's downfall on a silver platter."

The way you look at Jungkook is unfamiliar. It's as cold and frigid as the winter nights you used to stow away with him in his car; breath clouding in the freezing temperatures despite the warmth in your heart.

A few months ago, such a look from you would have destroyed him. Absolutely decimated his entire sense of belonging. Life wouldn't have been worth living.

Now? It feels like a luxury. A sinful indulgence. He's been deprived for so long he'll take even the smallest hit of whatever you'll give him - and even when it's fleeting, your attention is like crack fucking cocaine.

It's not just your hair or your gaze that has changed. In fact, a lot about you has. There's a hollowness to your cheeks now that there wasn't before; a slight gauntness.

Without the convenience store snacks to keep you going, you actually had to eat decently. Having someone to go home to also meant that your junk diet had to be replaced with something more... appropriate for a woman in her twenties. No more eating like a teenager.

Your loss of appetite in the aftermath of Jungkook's revelation had certainly helped with this, and if anything, you've gained weight over the last few weeks - but you're still not as soft as you once were. He can see it in your cheeks. Saddens him, a little.

Has him thinking about what you could look like beneath those clothes of yours. Wonders if his hands will still fit your waist perfectly, or if your tits will still overspill in his palms just how he liked it. Considers that maybe they won't. Maybe he'll never get the chance to find out.

You think Jungkook looks colder. It's funny, cause the weather has heated up quite considerably, but it's never been frostier between the pair of you.

Getting to your feet, you brush down the tops of your thighs to straighten any creases. You've still got a persona to keep up, even when it's dark outside.

"You can discuss it amongst yourselves," You sigh as begin to head for the door, heels clicking as beneath your feet. There's something about the sound that you just adore. Maybe it's the repetition. Maybe it's the way it drowns out the chime in your stomach as you walk past the man you once thought you... No, you think. That's not right. The man you used to fuck. Much better. "I don't care, either way. I need an answer by the end of the week, or I'll find someone else. You aren't special. Plenty of other fuckers in the city who want to make a quick buck. Plenty of others who hate my father for one reason or another. You just had the balls to try it first."

"How do we know we can trust you?" Jungkook calls after you.

He's disappointed when you simply call back, "you don't."

There's more to be said, he thinks. More to discuss.

So he follows you to the parking lot. None of the other boys do. They already know they aren't welcome, and quite honestly, none of them wants to third-wheel such an awkward encounter. They'd already filled their quota for the day.

As he enters the dreary parking lot, he notices a car that's unfamiliar. It's a Merc. Black. Matte. Not too standard around these parts. Fuckin nice, though. He's impressed. Makes a mental note to ask you about the spec some other time.

"Hey, honey." You speak pleasantly into your phone as you pace around, not realising Jungkook's presence yet. He doesn't speak up. Too curious about who this honey could be. "Yeah, Just heading to Jieun's now. I'll be a couple of hours. Okay, okay. Love you, too."

Jungkook pretends like he didn't hear that bit. Does a terrible job of it - but at least he tries.

When you clock him, you couldn't be less bothered if you tried. So what if he heard you on the phone? It's up to him if he reads into it or not.

"You wanna know you can trust me?" You raise a brow, reading his suspicions of you.

Jungkook remains silent. He'll pretend it's to preserve his hard exterior, but in reality, it's to save himself from admitting the truth: he'd trust you with his life.

"I just lied," you continue. "I'm not going to Jieun's. I'm going to Yoongi's. Can follow me if you like. We both know it wouldn't be the first time. I'll be transparent with you - but don't think for a second that I trust you back."

"Yoongi's", Jungkook nods. Remembers the way Yoongi used to look at you. Remembers how he once thought that he was competition. More fool him for ever thinking you actually cared. You've a ring on your finger, now. Neither of you were ever competing, apparently. And if you were? Fell at the first hurdle. "What's that then? A little extra marital fun?

You smile insincerely. "Not married yet."

"So?"

"So even if it was, Jungkook, you're not the one who put this ring on my finger. You've no right to an opinion."

"And I never would have given you a ring," he says, as if he thinks his lack of interest in you could hurt you any more than it already had.

"Never would have wanted you to," you shrug, both of you as good at feigning disinterest as one another.

There's something about him though that has you curious. Has you feeling like you're being challenged. It's just like it was when you first met. The words you speak are laced with disgust, but the burning in your eyes can only be described as desire. He hates how easy it is for him to get like this around you. Hates that you know exactly what you can do to him.

He's realising now that you're far more in control of your feelings than he ever thought you were. He only ever saw you so vulnerable because you chose that. You let him. He's shut out now, and he doesn't like it.

But he does like the smile resting on your pretty lips as you walk towards him.

The way you encroach on his physical space has him hitching his breath in his throat, as if he's terrified to breathe around you. It's fitting, given the way you make him feel like he's drowning.

It's more than that, though.

What he truly fears is inhaling your perfume. smelling your shampoo. He's terrified of what it will do to him if he learns your hair still smells like gasoline. Even more petrified of how he'll feel if he learns that you don't smell like it anymore, mind you.

It's when you extend your index finger and hook it beneath his necklace that he really begins to lose his mind.

"Yanno," you say so quietly he has no choice but to edge just a tiny bit closer. Raising the key to be level with your eyes, you study it, watching the way the tiny crystals almost sparkle in the moonlight. You know they don't. It's just an illusion. If you had to guess - had to assume - you'd say coke. It's the only thing you can imagine him doing. His eyes are focused down on you, lashes long, gaze stern. "You should have told me you like coke."

Jungkook stays silent as you look up towards him, your lips laced in seduction. He knows better than to let you succeed, but - fuck - it's so hard not to. Whatever you're doing has an ulterior motive. It has to.

"Bumping coke's gonna ruin that pretty little nose of yours," you note.

"The fuck would you know about it?" he scoffs, but doesn't pull away. Can't bring himself to. All he can think about is the way your lips look. The difference in them is minimal, but they're definitely plumper. Have to be. Or maybe he just wants to kiss you more than he ever has done.

Your lips part as you lay your tongue flat and press the key to it.

Jungkook swallows, the lump in his throat swollen and intrusive. You wait a second. Wait for two. Then twist the key and dab the other side against your tongue.

"Takes longer if you swallow it," he whispers. "Snorting is much more cost-effective."

"Maybe so," you shrug, releasing the key from your mouth before pressing it against his chest with a slight push. "But you can't go around wearing Class A evidence like that, you silly prick. I meant what I said," you trail off to a whisper, stepping even closer towards him. He doesn't back away. Quite the opposite. He edges a little closer too. He knows he shouldn't - knows you're just baiting him - but god what a temptress you are. "I need to know I can trust the men I work with. I can't have you getting thrown into jail just for the fun of it. I need you clean."

There's something different about that last command. A softness. A plead. Your eyes linger on his, and then you pull away from the magnetism of his being.

"Stay off the drugs, Kook. A deviated septum looks sexy on no one."

And you're right.

But it doesn't really matter. The coke was just a pass time until his favourite drug came back to town. He's one hit down, and thinks the high will last him all fucking week.

The buzz perseveres. He's so consumed by it that he can't recall the conversation he had with the boys before he left. Can barely fucking remember the drive home.

But as he strips himself bare in the quiet comfort of his apartment, he can remember you.

Can remember your eyes, and the way they engulfed him with the heat of your fury - but also the way they simmered. Lashes low, lids half closed, you'd looked at him like a fucking siren, and the memory of it had his tattooed hand stroking at his firm cock. He hadn't been able to get like this since you'd left. Had tried on more than one occasion. Never managed to see it through. Would feel sick after a pump or two.

It's different now. His wrist flicks and his hand works his shaft, head thrown back into his pillows. His hips pulse, desperate for more friction, his own palm a shitty compromise after the luxury of your pussy.

It's when he's thinking of you that he gets breathless. Starts to moan. Wanks himself even faster. Harder. "Shit, C."

The term of endearment sounds so fucking sweet on his tongue. Has his torso tensing. Ass too. The wave of an orgasm threatening to crash.

Driven by instinct, his strong fingers wrap tightly around his hardened length, stroking gently. Tilting his head back, eyes firmly closed, he lets pleasure wave over him as he rolls his hips up into his palm. A guttural moan escapes his wet mouth, his teeth finding their home on his bottom lip.

More. He needs more of you. Needs your hair in his face, the scent of gasoline suffocating him. Needs his lips around your nipples, hands grappling with your ass. He needs you here.

All he's got - the only thing he's got - are his memories. His body writhes beneath him, the chain around his neck slipping from its position. There's little thought that goes into the way he moves the chain and holds the key tight between his teeth to keep it in place; nothing except the knowledge of your tongue licking against it earlier.

And then his lips close around it. His teeth ease, and the key sinks onto his tongue, the chain taut on his chin. He slows the movement of his wrist for a second. Rolls it once. Twice. Tries his best to work out if he can taste you or not.

He can't, but he can't taste the coke either, which means you did exactly as you intended. He moans, vibrating around the small key, devouring the idea that he'd exchanging spit with you once again, in a way. He knows the truth of the matter couldn't be further away from that, but it feels so fucking forbidden.

Just like you always have been. You'll remain that way.

But as his torso grows damp with the release of his orgasm onto his abs, ropes of sperm that he wishes he could have fucked into you going to waste on his skin, he can help but let his mind run wild.

Can't help but wish for more.

And so it comes as no surprise when Jungkook arrives at the boxing club, bright and early the next morning and says, "I'm in."

────────────

There's a sheen to Yoongi's skin as he opens up his apartment door, damp from the shower that was shut off just a few moments prior. Hair wet and sticking to his forehead, you're surprised to find you're the one choking on your words.

And then he smiles.

Smiles as if he's just beaten the high score of an arcade game, smiles as if he's managed to reach the peak of Apsan just in time for sunset. He smiles, and it feels like he's fixing you up with gold; seeping into the cracks that Jungkook left in you.

"If you wanted me to cover your shifts, you could have just asked," he beams. It's the first time he's seen you in three months. "You didn't have to be all dramatic and quit on me like that."

His teeth are showing, and they only show more when you give him a light tap on the shoulder with a closed first. His body jolts back slowly, eyes eating you up like a souffle pancake after a month-long fast. He bites down on his bottom lip with those pretty pearly whites, and pushes his door a little further back to invite you inside.

"You know you like a girl who keeps you on your toes," you grin back at him.

"Coffee? Tea?" He asks as you cross the threshold. You both know he won't have any at home, and that he'll need to order it in, but the gesture is kind. He's kind. "On my toes, yes. Sprinting marathons just to keep up with her? Less so much."

"Wine? And you'll thank me for the cardio in later life," you assure him, and toy with a joke about other forms of cardio you could do together. It dances on the tip of your tongue, and you know that if you spoke it aloud, goosebumps would form on his bare arms - so you say nothing, instead. 

He'd be the perfect distraction, you think, nothing like the boy you're trying to forget. Kind, and handsome, and someone who actually gives a shit about you. 

Forget distraction. He'd be the perfect man. Or at least he would be if he wasn't so helplessly infatuated with you.

That's thing about Yoongi; he sees all the good in you, and ignores the bad.

He'll take your witty banter, but neglect to factor in how mean it can sometimes be. He'll watch you yawn at work, half-bored to death, but refuse to acknowledge the fact you could cure said boredom with the tasks on your to-do list, that you instead leave for the next shift worker. He revels in the beauty of your laugh, but apparently is deaf when he hears you bitching about customers who have done very little wrong.

You aren't a saint. Perhaps not a sinner, either, but you sure do feel a lot closer to one than you think you should.

For all his wrongdoings, Jungkook never once treated you like you were a saint. There was no pedestal beneath your feet when you kissed him; he'd stoop to your level.

He saw you exactly as you were, which is why it hurt so much when you realised you'd only ever seen a facade that he'd cooked up in the shitty back room of a boxing club.

Thoughts of him are dissolved with mindless chatter, Yoongi always so good at taking your mind elsewhere. He knows you in such a way that talking is easy. It never feels calculated, never feeling like you need to think about what you say. He'd never judge you for a single thing.

Perhaps he should. Perhaps if he'd have held his guard up a little higher, stood his ground a little firmer, then he wouldn't be so weak to the way you batter your lashes and give him coy looks in dull-lit rooms.

There's talk of the garage; the usual customers, your old boss, how late shifts drag without you there. He's quiet when you ask about Jieun. Just tells you she's all good. He changes the subject. Asks about your dad, and how the fuck you managed to keep that one quiet. 

You're surprised to find that honesty feels nice. 

Until, inevitably, it doesn't.

"You gonna tell me about the ring?" he eventually asks after you've both had a little wine to ease the tension of three months you've been away.

You don't drop your eyes from him, not even for a second. His damp hair is nearly fully dry, and he looks so comfortable in a pair of grey sweats and a white shirt, reclined on his sofa. Simplicity looks good on him.

You're still in business casual, tight dress hiked around the top of your thighs as you sit on his floor. It was always your default when you came to his place, for some reason always opting for the floor instead of next to him on the sofa. Always been concerned about keeping a little distance. Funny, how the one time the distance would be apt, you find yourself wanting to sit next to him instead. You don't, though. Not yet, at least.

"What of it?"

Yoongi looks at you like you're a little bit mad. He kind of thinks you are.

"It's on your ring finger."

"Oh?" you say with a small laugh. "Is it?"

His eyes narrow on yours, before they glance back down to the ring. The stone is clear, and if he were to guess, he'd assume it was diamond - but he'd never struck you to be the kind of girl who ever wanted diamonds. Opals, maybe. Emerald, topaz. Stones with a bit about them. Something interesting. Not a diamond. Of all things.

But perhaps he didn't know you as well as he thought he had done. Perhaps you really weren't the girl he had dreamt up in his head; the one that he spent hours upon hours daydreaming about after you left.

Funny, how both he and Jungkook would get lost for lifetimes thinking about you, but they were both so vastly different.

In Yoongi's you'd come back home, show up at the garage like no time at all had passed, and tell him that you were wrong all along. He's the one you want. He's the one you've been going crazy thinking about. He's the one you came back for.

Sometimes he thinks about that week you went to Busan. Thinks about what it could have been like if he'd been the one to take you. Thinks about how fucking good it could have been to experience life outside of the confines of work and your apartments together. He thinks and he thinks and he thinks. Occasionally he acts on those thoughts too, but he tries not to.

It all feels a little wrong.

But that's what he likes about it. The fact he knows he shouldn't be thinking about you when he's turned on just turns him on even more; so he finds himself thinking of you far more often than he should. Thinks of you when he's alone; his bedroom lights switched off, duvet pushed midway down his thighs, hands roaming down his body. He grazes his skin with the tips of his nails. Pretends it's you.

"What about you," you shrug, nodding towards the scrunchie that's looped around the neck of a wine bottle on the counter. "Don't think your hair's long enough for that."

"You'd be surprised," he grins, pleased to find you grinning back.

"Prove it," you flirt, getting to your feet to retrieve it.

Yoongi watches as you retrieve the scrunchie, and knows that he should tell you no.

He should say 'actually, that's my girlfriend's.'

But she's only ever been a distraction to stop him from thinking about you - and how can he think of anyone else when you're in his space, heels off, dark hair draped over your shoulders like fine silk?

In your heart of hearts, you know that the scrunchie means he has someone. The hair grips by the sink, the takeout containers for two next to the recycling, the fact his apartment is actually clean and tidy, too.

"Prove it?" He grins as you return to his sofa, but you don't sit. You stand in front of him. Keep your eyes on him. Wait as he adjusts a little, his leg unhooking from beneath the other so that his lap makes the perfect seat for you to sit upon.

And so you do. You hike your dress up. One of your knees rests down next to his thigh. You're tentative. Slow.

His hand strokes up the back of your thigh. He nods. Encourages you further onto his lap. When your second knee finds its home next to his other thigh, he nods again.

You're smiling as you lower your weight, ass perched on the tops of his thighs. There's a little distance between the pair of you. You're not as close as you could be. Proceeding with caution. His lips pouty, eyes pure. A paradox.

"Prove it," you nod, and your hands start to toy with his hair. He's smiling right back at you, enthralled with the flirt almost as much as he's enthralled with the way it feels to have your nails scratching against his scalp. "Gonna make your hair look so pretty."

It's unfair, he thinks, that you get to have your hands in his hair, but his aren't allowed in yours. Doesn't realise that you wouldn't object.

"Don't think you will," he simpers back, the hand of his that was on the back of your thigh now resting on top of it, stroking ever so gently. The touch is so gentle, so minimal, and yet it has you pulsing beneath the lace of your underwear.

There's a ring on your finger, and someone waiting for you at home, but no one's had you in a position this provocative since you jumped town. See, you're 'waiting'. 'Want it to be special'. Don't want to make the same mistakes you did last time the ring had been on your finger.

Or at least that's what you tell yourself, and your fiance seems to believe it - why else would he get down on one knee again?

"I definitely will," you banter as you wrap his hair up with the scrunchie. His hair sticks on end, like a tiny sprout, and he looks adorable. "Gonna make you look sooo pretty."

He frowns, but with a sparkle in his eyes that let you know he's just joking. "Done?"

"Done," you beam, giving it one final adjustment. There's a slight movement to your hips, too. Getting cosy. His hand sinks a little further up your thigh. You pretend not to notice it. "Prettiest sprout in the whole of Daegu."

"Only Daegu? There are prettier sprouts outside of Daegu?"

You shrug. "Maybe. We should enter you into the national pretty sprout competition."

He adjusts his hips, sitting up a little straighter. He moves you into a more comfortable position as he does so. You're closer now. So much closer.

"Think I could win?"

"Best in show, baby," you grin. "I'd win for best sprout stylist, though."

Laughter echoes around you, his smile so sweet, so saccharine that you think he must surely be made of sugarcane.

The way Yoongi looks at you is devastating. Eyes soft and round, they're glossy and wet. Earnest.

They drop to your lips, then return to your eyes. Repeat. His lashes flutter whenever he does so, and there's a reflection from his floor lamp that looks like a pretty little love heart in them.

So devastating. It's the kind of look people would write films about, all for that one shot of his eyes after the confession scene. The one that will go viral, the one that will be cited for years as 'the look', the one that would earn Min Yoongi a place in the heart of every young woman who watches it. Young men, too. Fuck it, anyone with a pair of working eyes.

He's got a look in them that makes you want to believe in love; but the fact you even have to think about it just proves that this could never be that.

"I'm using you," you tell him, knowing that honesty is all you can really give him. He deserves that much, at the very least. Deserves more, you think, so much more than you can ever be - but he doesn't want more. He just wants you.

He tries a little banter. "To win the competition? I know."

But you don't feel like bantering. You want him to know how much of a piece of shit you are. How much you only ever think of yourself. How selfish you can be.

There's a look on your face that is unfamiliar to him. A warning. I'm a hurricane; I will destroy you. It's one that he ignores.

"I know," he whispers back, seriously this time, his index finger tucking away strands of your hair that are hanging loose. Eyes focused on the movements of his fingers, he's too scared to look into yours. Shy, almost. Timid, and sweet, and everything that Jungkook's not. "And I'm letting you. I'm using you, too."

It's funny, because he really thinks he is. He thinks he's got control over the situation, that all this is happening because he chose for it to happen - as if you haven't been holding the cards this whole entire time. He's only winning because you're letting him win.

Part of you feels bad. You know that his feelings for you run deeper than your simple want to be wanted, and yet you don't try and rectify the situation. He's a grown man. He can make his own decisions. He can make his own mistakes.

The tentative tips of his fingers trail down your cheek, your neck. He pushes your hair over your shoulder, and presses a kiss against it.

His lips trail a little further up, ghosting your neck, occasionally pressing down. He's slow. Takes his time. Savours this; savours you.

You're surprised by the way it feels when Yoongi finally kisses you.

His lips are just as they should be, firm and soft, and when his tongue begins to trail across your bottom lip, you accept it into your mouth. There's silence in your sternum. You had expected that bell to chime like it so often did, but instead, there's just a small fizzle and pop, like a sparkler being dunked in a water cup. You can feel the fizzle, mind you, working its way down until you find yourself clenching.

This is good, you tell yourself. What you need.

Yoongi's tongue is slow as it licks into your mouth. He's working you out. Seeing how you taste, how it feels when your moans vibrate against him.

His hands tentatively begin to roam; hips pulsing beneath you. The weight of your body on top of his feels like a fucking crime. His fingers trail up your back. Tickle at your spine. Curve round your ribs and ghost the underside of your tits.

Your breath hitches, and all you can think about is him.

Your fingers clasp around Yoongi's, holding them in place, stopping them from moving further. He looks at you, head tilting when he realises yours is shaking. He's scared he's fucked it already.

"Just," you say quickly, noticing the panic in his eyes. "These," you gesture to your chest, not wanting to be specific but needing him to know. "Off limits. If that's okay?"

He nods. "Sure, of course. I'm sorry."

"No," you smile. "It's okay."

You could clarify. Could explain. Could make up some lie about how you don't like it, or how you're insecure, but Yoongi accepts your boundaries without question.

"Sure?" He asks, a little scared to venture further. He doesn't want to do the wrong thing. Doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, or make you feel like regretting your choices. He knows that he's probably only ever gonna get one shot at this, but he's gonna treat it like an audition for a permanent position. If he does well, maybe you'll want him again.

His hesitancy is sweet, you think. Endearing. Perhaps a little bit of a turn-off, but you don't seem to mind. You like that you can take of him just as much as he wants to take care of you.

The pace of his hips increases beneath you, your clothes aiding and abetting your crimes. It's not technically cheating if nothing happens. Or at least, that's what you tell yourself.

Sure, his cock is fucking solid beneath his sweats, trapped in the confines of his underwear, and - fuck it, fine - maybe you are so wet that you're leaving a small mark on his crotch from where it's seeped through - but it's nothing.

It's not like you're actually touching his dick. Your hands are exclusively in his hair, his pretty sprout long gone, the scrunchie now around your wrist.

And it's not like he's inside you, either - although he wishes he was. In fact, he's thinking about it when he begins whining into your mouth. Your hips are working against him, the friction getting you closer and closer an-

"God, you're gonna make- fuck, I'm gonna-" he rasps, but he doesn't slow his movements. His hands are on your waist, dictating the speed at which you're moving on top of him. He's using you just as much as you're using him.

"Cum?" You finish his sentence with a sinful smirk against him. Your tongue flicks against his, and he's whining again. You're so direct, so blasé, that he doesn't know how to control himself. "Don't pretend like it's the first time, Yoongi."

See, Yoongi doesn't fuck like Jungkook.

Yoongi fucks nice girls. Girls who fuck for love. Girls who rarely fuck. Girls who do as they should; sit pretty, let the man have his way with them, and ask for nothing in return. Girls who are prudish, and refuse to discuss sex unless they're about to have it.

More often than not, Yoongi goes for girls who love him.

And it's probably why he's so fixated on you; because he knows you never will.

You're unattainable. Good girl gone bad. Sultry and seductive in a way that he's never seen before.

He ruts up against you, chest heaving as his grip on your waist forces you to angle a little further away from him. He shakes his head ever so slightly, lips hanging ajar. "Not the first time. Course it fucking isn't. Look at you."

And now you're fucking whining. He likes the reciprocation. Makes him feel like you want this just as much as he does - and you do. There's nothing you want more at that moment than to have Yoongi twitching in his underwear, unloading himself all because of you. You want the control. The power. The satisfaction.

You want a man weak for you, to make up for how weak a man had made you feel. You want confirmation that Jungkook was nothing special. That you can have the same impact on any man.

And here Yoongi is, hard beneath the weight of your body, your pussy hot against his stiff crotch; body clammy as he pretends like the scrunchie around your wrist doesn't belong to a girl who bakes him homemade tangerine tarts, just because. He isn't thinking about her. He's utterly consumed by you. He'll feel bad about it after you leave, but for now, he's just thinking of ways he can make you stay.

"Slow," you tell him, placing your hand against his chest, just below his ribs. You both ignore your ring just like you both ignore the scrunchie. He's just as corrupt as you are. Maybe you're a good match. Maybe you can be each other's favourite mistakes.

You shuffle back a little; ass perched on his knees, eyes looking at his crotch as your palm follows your gaze. It's not hard to get a read on his size beneath his sweats. They're a pale grey, but there's a telling dark stain where you've been sitting.

"Shit," he hisses. "We can't- I can't. I want to - fucking hell, I really do - but I can't."

"I know," you nod. "That's not what I'm after."

The way you smile as you say it has Yoongi thinking he might just cum right there and then. You're fucking with his head - but what bothers him the most is how much he likes it.

"What are you after, then?" he asks as he feels your hand squeeze around his length. He groans, head tipping back against the top of his sofa. The way his hips pulse is involuntary, and it has sin lacing your smile.

"Just wanna adjust you slightly," you shrug. You want his cock laying flat against his body. It's kind of at an angle now, and while it feels great to grind down on, you know it will be even better if you can work up and down his shaft a little easier. Better for you both.

He bites down on his lip to hold back another moan and nods when you release the pressure of your palm.

"You wanna move it, or shall I?" you ask, not wanting to overstep a boundary.

"I'll do it," he says, hand dipping beneath his waistband without hesitation. It's not cheating if he does it, he rationalises. It is cheating if you do it. He's decided, that's his limit. As long as you don't actually touch his cock, then it's fine. He hasn't given the kissing much thought because he doesn't want to stop doing it.

He looks at you as he strokes his cock, just a couple of times. Just enough to make you wish it was your lips around it, not his hand. You can't see anything - it's still hidden by his sweats - but the adjustment just makes the outline so much clearer. So much bigger.

"This okay?" he asks, almost nervously. Eyes darting around your face to get a read.

You nod. "Perfect."

His hands find your waist again, and he pulls you further up his lap. He holds you in place as he slowly pushes up against you. Your hand snakes behind his neck, the other clasping one of his wrists. Your nails dig in; a moan stuttering from your pouty lips.

"That feel better?" he checks, but your reaction was all he needed to confirm it.

Still, you're notoriously the worst - and so you smirk. Lean forward. Subtly move your hips as you do so. Press a chaste kiss against his neck. Whisper, "I'm not sure. You'll have to try again."

He's even slower this time. Deeper. You shouldn't be doing this, Yoongi.

And yet he does it again. Groans. Curses. "You make me so hard."

You can't help but laugh. He's sweet. Nice to be with. "You're welcome."

It's the giggle that gets him.

Sweet? Nice? Yeah, fuck that.

His hips get erratic. The speed, the pace. Jesus H. Christ. It's a good job you aren't fucking because you think he'd actually break you. You know he'd kiss it better, so it's okay - but now you're thinking of his tongue and how badly you want his head between your legs.

"Wait for me," you whine into his lips, as your hand dips towards your clothed cunt. It's so warm and wet that it's a miracle Yoongi hasn't stripped you bare just to have the luxury of experiencing it.

You both know this is a one-and-done kind of thing. One time can be classed as a mistake. A lapse in judgement. Forgiveness will be far easier. Repeat offences? Well, they're a pattern. Guaranteed to reoccur. It'd be an affair, for lack of a better term.

Yoongi was raised better. You weren't, but that's neither here nor there.

With your dress hiked up around your hips, it's almost cruel how easily Yoongi could access your pussy if he really wanted to. Has been resisting the temptation. The lace of your underwear - black and barely there - leaves little to the imagination. He's salivating at the sheer thought of how you could taste. He can smell your arousal, and thinks you must be some kind of delicacy.

His brain is playing tricks on him. Making him feel like he hasn't eaten for weeks. What he wouldn't give to have you in his mouth right now.

It's out of bounds, though. He can't.

But he can match the rhythm of his hips to the pace you're rubbing languid circles against your clothed cunt, right above the hood of your clit.

And again, he wants it in his mouth.

He needs a distraction. Something. Anything. Feels your grip on the back of his neck and decides that's it.

"Throat," he husks. "Put your hand around my throat."

The sound Yoongi makes when you do as he's asked, nails digging into his skin ever so slightly, is unlike anything you've ever heard before. It's desperate, unrestrained. Pathetic. So fucking hot.

But you're both mewling now, bodies clammy beneath your clothes.

It hits you first; the wave of an orgasm crashing down over you, taking Yoongi with it. Your body shakes on top of his, teeth biting down into his shoulder as hands squeeze your ass so tightly you think it might bruise.

Good. Would be nice to have the mark of someone else on your skin for once.

He folds almost as fast as you do. He's quiet as he cums, not minding that your grip on his throat had dropped. There's no announcement, no prewarning, he just lets his body fall into the familiar notion of what it feels like to experience euphoria because of you. Breath hitched, cock spurting into his underwear, Yoongi's head lolls. His eyes are half-mooned, lips resting ajar, looking directly at you as he cums.

It's sordid. Dirty. Forbidden. Your favourite kind of sexual exploit - but Yoongi is a willing participant. Wanting.

His hair is a little ruffled from your hands, body limp and docile from his release. He makes no objection as your frill his hair with a smile. He does eye you a little curiously as you begin to tie his hair back up with that damn scrunchie again. He's glad it's off your wrist. Felt guilty looking at it.

You tilt your head, eyes expansive and inquisitive as a smile prevails. "Prettiest sprout in Daegu."

And he really is; honey skin all pink and clammy, eyes glossy, a smile forming on his pouty lips. But he's also not stupid. He knows you're just trying to pretend like what just happened never did.

It's the sensible thing to do - but fuck, he's been thinking about that (or at least some variation of it) for months. Years, even. Against his better judgement, he steals a chaste kiss from your lips. "Prettiest sprout maker in Daegu."

The bashful shake of your head, the way your cheeks apple, the sound of your fucking giggle, all confirm it for him.

"Shut up."

"Don't think I can," he grins, satisfied to have finally gotten you like this. And then he kisses you again, because he knows full well that very soon he won't be able to. "Why the fuck did we never do that before?"

You wrap your arms around his neck and simper into his kiss. It's nice to be wanted. Nice to have someone want you just for the sake of wanting you. Nice to use someone instead of being used. There's no ulterior motive with Yoongi; just bad timing. That's all.

"'Cause we'd have never got any work done at the garage if we knew how good it felt," you hum, voice light and airy. He's missed you in the months you've been away. "Would have spent all our time in the stock room."

"You did that anyways," he laughs, pressing kisses down your neck. "Fucking slacker."

His lips stop beneath your collarbones, just shy of your chest, mindful of the boundary you set earlier.

"You never complained," you remind him. "You loved it."

He shakes his head. Doesn't deny it. Just grins.

And that's when the guilt starts to creep in for you, too.

Yoongi's one of the good ones. Hair tied up all cute and silly just because you wanted to do it. There's safety to be found when you're sitting in his lap. He'd never fuck you over. Never.

But you've twisted his arm, and made him fuck over some other poor girl. You know it's gonna eat at him - because he's a good person. Far better than you are.

"Hey," you say quietly. "I should get going."

"It's late," he replies, his deep voice a similar dulcet volume to yours. He's mirroring you. It's cute. "You can take my bed. I'll sleep on the couch again. Like last time."

The way he tacks that last sentence on is so delicate. So pure. Proof that you can trust him. It's tried and tested. Customer approved. Trip Advisor recommended.

In your heart of hearts, you know you don't deserve another minute of his company. You look down. Choke on your words a little. Shake your head. "Wouldn't wanna put you out."

You've a home to get to.

"It's no bother," he smiles.

You know leaving will hurt him, but fear staying will do more damage.

And again, you've a home to get to.

"Stay," he says.

"I can't," you whisper. Nudge your nose against his. Let your lips linger a little too close. Don't press down until he does. And then you kiss him like you really mean it. You think you do. "I'm sorry."

The worst thing about Yoongi is the way he smiles. It's innocent, even if what you just did wasn't. Sincere. Compassionate. You know he's only thinking about you - but there are other people in this equation. You reach for the scrunchie. It pulls from his hair with ease - a testament to how he feels about his short-lived romance. It doesn't matter though, as you pick up his wrist and place the scrunchie around it.

He looks at it; at your nails and how they clasp his hand so delicately. He squeezes them. Nods. Purses his lips, takes in the shine of your ring, then looks at you. "I'm sorry, too."

You're not sure what for. For not acting sooner? For not asking you on a date all those months ago? For the fact he moved on when you moved away?

"It's cool," you say and try a sincere smile back. He sees right through it. "We're cool."

"We are?"

"We are."

Yoongi calls you a cab. You've had too much wine to risk getting pulled over. The scandal your father would face as the result of you getting a DUI isn't worth it at this point. You've a role to play. A home to get to before the sun rises.

And despite it all, he kisses you goodbye.

"Better not go rogue again," he tells you.

All you can do is smile. "No promises."

────────────

When your fiancé calls through to the master bathroom - letting you know he's off to work - you pretend you can't hear him. There's a shuffle by the door as he waits for a reply, but when he doesn't get one, he assumes you're beneath the water.

Easy enough mistake.

You've been too busy staring at your reflection for upwards of ten minutes, trying to assess who the fuck is staring back at you. The marble countertops are cold beneath your hands, the shower running freely, 'cause you're not the one footing the bill. Your fiancé is.

You don't feel bad about the fact you're quite literally pouring his cash down the drain. There's enough money to cover it - but of course there is. Despite his well-to-do salary man image, his main income comes under the table. It's illicit, but so is everything in the world you'd left behind all those years ago.

The man who put a ring on your finger is on your father's payroll. Has been since he turned eighteen. Is following in his own father's footsteps.

It's all very sweet, when you come to think about it - what kid doesn't look up to their father? You sure had.

You, the daughter of a political figurehead; he, the son of the Chief of Police.

It's what made you such a great couple from the get-go.

Was kind of like the fairytales your mother would read to you before bed. You wonder now if she was trying to ingrain the idea of such a suitor from your early childhood. Get her ideal man embedded in your brain before it even had a chance to fully develop.

Your fiancé is a little older than you are, so they had to buy time. Make sure no relationship between the pair of you could be scandalised.

Once you were of age, it seemed to be a match made in heaven. The stuff of Shakespeare plays.

It was only natural that you would end up together. Set in stone. You'd marry and become an unstoppable force for your parents. The city would remain theirs.

Thing is, you never wanted to be a character in a Shakespeare romance. You always thought it'd be fruitless. They all end up the victims of great tragedies, anyways.

What you had wanted was to be the muse of a sonnet. Have a man dote on you; write you poetry under the glare of sweltering summer heat. Someone who'd make metaphors out of the condensation on cans of chilsung, consumed together down by your favourite spot along the river. He'd mumble nonsense about the smell of your hair and how he'd long to touch you with his ink-stained fingertips.

As you grew, you began to favour motor oil over ink. Hardly a surprise that you'd been suckered by a motor-loving swine with ink etched into his knuckles. You tend not to think about how gentle those hands of his could be. He'd been everything you had ever wanted wrapped into one. Tied with a pretty red bow.

Now, you think you'll be lucky if you make it to the footnotes of a political history book.

You shower. Take a little longer than normal to rinse the grimey feeling of betrayal from your skin. It'll never leave. Not really. Lodged beneath too many layers of skin.

It's not like you had gone to Yoongi's with the intention of letting things get that far. A little flirt, sure, something harmless - but it was just so lovely to have choices. So nice to be able to choose someone who is also choosing you, even if just for a moment. A lapse in time; in judgement.

Your fiancé never chose you. He chose the path of least resistance from his parents, and you just so happened to be crossing the same road as him.

He's tall. The full cliche - dark, handsome. Had been your first 'love' before you knew what love actually was. First everything. First boy to cheat on you, too, but you mother just told you all men were cheaters. Nothing to get your knickers in a twist about. Your father was leading by example.

So even though you're in his apartment, wearing clothes washed in his detergent, helping yourself to snacks he bought, you know not to be too comfortable. Not to convince yourself he actually wants this relationship for anything other than his own political gain.

He's banking on a promotion. Not within his career, but within your father's corruption. You're an asset.

And him? Well, to state it plainly, he's an ass.

He's also definitely fucking his secretary, but it's not like he's getting lucky with you so you don't care all that much. She was in the picture before you. Or at least, while you were away. It's been a few years since you were last here. Enough time for something to blossom. Poor thing probably actually loves him. You doubt it's reciprocated.

The ring on your finger is nothing more than a political move; a safety net for the man who had held had refused to pawn it after you left the first time. You'd been a diamond girl, back then. Had been a different person entirely.

You're sat on his sofa, twiddling at your ring, garbage reality shows play on his obnoxiously large television screen, when he pops home towards the end of his lunch break.

He seems agitated. Doesn't really greet you. Is looking for a casefile he'd left at home this morning.

"Think they're by the bed," you hum, vaguely aware of flicking through them this morning after he'd left.

Petty convenience store robbery, nothing really to write home about. You scoff at the cases he's been assigned, as if he were still a rookie. He's been on the force for years. He should be investigating major crimes. Murders. Narcotics. Corruption.

Then again, he'd end up investigating all of his friends if he did those cases. Must be better for him to stay away.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he dismisses as he rushes on through.

There's a slight waft of perfume as he passes you. It becomes clear why he decided to cram the document retrieval into the last ten minutes of his lunch break. You find yourself wondering if you had smelt like Yoongi when you'd arrived home the night before.

"You picking up the car this afternoon?"

Shit. The car.

"Yeah." Your capability of making lies sound like bible truth is commendable. A skill. Talent. "Was just about to go."

"Okay, good. You gonna be near Kang's? I need some more oil."

You're silent for a moment. Think of which lovely little lie to tell. Settle on, "Jieun lives not too far from it. I can pop by."

He hums something in response. You think it might be a thank you but he doesn't care to articulate it properly. It's not till he walks back to the living area that you realise he's still talking. "-actually be good for you to get out of the house. You can't mope around here all day."

You scowl. Look at him with genuine disdain. "Sorry?"

"I'm just saying," he shrugs, a look on his face as if he genuinely thinks he's not being a dick. "You can't be out all hours at night - and before you say it, I don't care if it's just at Jieun's, I have a work schedule I have to sleep for - and then spend all day doing nothing."

This time, you stay silent.

You don't think he's wrong, but he's also the one who had given you terms and conditions when he put that ring back on your finger. No GS25 was one of them. No university either, which is what you'd really wanted to do; actually educate yourself on business affairs, so that it wasn't all bullshit when you were dealing with the hooligans from Kang's.

But no. To be welcomed back into the fold was to be restricted; prevented from doing things that would garner you any further independence.

"While I'm at Kang's, I'll see if they've got any jobs going," you say. The garage in front of the boxing club would actually be the perfect place for you to work while you figured out your next move. You also know there's no way in hell it would ever be given the green light.

"Working for your father's political rival?" he scoffs, not taking you seriously for a second.

"Says the man who wants me to buy oil from there," you scoff right back. "But fine, I can go back to GS2-"

"No. Your father said-"

"You think I give a rat's arse what my father said?"

"Your father said to keep a low profile until he can justify another job opening in the mayoral office."

"Joy. Can't wait," you say as he walks to the door. He's out of it without even so much as a goodbye when you mumble, "You might be his bitch, Hoseok, but I'm not."

Realistically, the conversation had been done as soon as you mentioned getting a job.

It's on the list of 'No Can Do' activities, set in place by your father to keep his political appearance clean. No job, no school, no clubs, nothing worthy of a scandal. Nothing that could be used against him. He might have won the last election, but Kang came pretty fucking close to stealing it from him. He needs to gain back the favour of his people.

It takes well over an hour to get to Kang's by foot from the city center apartment you're in, so you head to the nearest bus station. Figure you'll just hop on the 503. Will try not to think about Jungkook when you do so.

You're dressed down, a slouchy jumper over a pair of jeans fading you into obscurity. Nothing special. You know you should really make more of an effort to keep up appearances, but you're tired. Exhausted. Not physically, but mentally.

Your old life is draining you.

There had been method to your madness: you'd returned 'home' for a reason.

Part of you wishes you hadn't. Wishes you'd have gone straight to Kangs.

But you needed an 'in', and to be honest, you needed protection. You play a mean game of poker, and your bluff has been perfected, but behind the poker face, you're scared. Of your reality. Of your father. Of the men who dwell in Kang's boxing club.

And so you'd needed to get your ducks in a row before you stepped foot into Kang's. Couple of months was all it had taken for your family to be convinced that your reckless youth had been outgrown; for a ring to be back on your finger.

You find yourself thinking about Jungkook; what it could have been like if you'd have met him before... well, before everything.

You think about your life as a teenager - privileged, affluent. Think about his hardships, and how you could have tried to help. Your father never would have listened to you, but you could have a least appealed to his sense of humanity. Could have tried to stop the funding cuts. Probably could have extorted your father; used his mistakes against him.

Instead, you'd distanced yourself. Changed your legal name as soon as you could because you knew that, eventually, you'd want to run. Would want to remove yourself from any position of influence.

It's why you never could have helped Jungkook. You had been running from the very thing he needed: power, influence, money. At the time, they'd been meaningless to you. Not meant for you, you thought - though you're doing rather well cosplaying as Daddy's little princess again.

As you make your way across town, you notice how bad the air quality is once more - heavy in your lungs, drying your eyes out.

You make your way to Yoongi's, and for a moment, it feels like nothing has changed. Like you're just going to hang out on a day off. You'll gossip about the boss, maybe make theories on why Jieun had called in sick the week before.

But when Yoongi opens his apartment door, he wants to look like he's ambivalent about your arrival. Indifferent. Unphased. Can't help but smile, though.

"Twice in twelve hours?" he says. "Really making up for lost time, aren't you?"

You roll your eyes, because there's an innuendo lacing his words and you're not sure what to make of it. Both of you are sober, now, not a drop of wine left in your systems and yet... you kind of feel like you are a little tipsy.

Your skin is clammy, heart beating a little faster than it should be. Just the air quality, you tell yourself. Harder to breathe. Yeah, just the air. Just the pollution, baby.

Funny, how it's Jungkook's voice in your head again.

But Yoongi's heart is doing the just same. Can't blame it on the air.

He knows last night was wrong, but the adrenaline rush that had come with giving himself up for you made him feel like he'd digested enough uppers to kill a man. Swallowed them whole. Chased a high he'd never reached before. Nirvana. Purgatory disguised as paradise.

"Look, Yoongi I-" You begin, but he interrupts you. Knows the tone of voice you're using. Doesn't want to hear it.

"Don't," he says, opening his door a little wider to invite you in.

You hesitate, but when he knocks his head back, eyes half-mooned as they drink you in, you can't refuse. He nods to the sofa, where you take a seat, shoes off, feet up, legs crossed.

He stands by the wall opposite you, keeping a little distance. Looks down - but then right back up and into your eyes as he says, "You've only just got here. Don't treat me like I was a mistake already."

There's silence as you look at one another. Your lips rest ajar, a million thoughts fighting it out to be spoken first.

"You weren't."

You're not sure you believe it, but you want him to. Don't want him feeling like you regret him.

"No?" He says, dark but deliriously honest; not only how they drink you in, but how they also pour out for you. The windows to his soul are open, curtains wafting in the breeze. He's inviting you in. Offering you a home. "Why does it feel like you were about to say that it was?"

Because you were.

Not because you thought it was a mistake for you; but because it was a mistake for him. The scrunchie has been hidden away, and his take-out for two containers have been left out for the recycling collection. He's testing out what it could be like, you think. What it could be like to have you in his space.

"I can't give you what you need," you say quietly, avoiding eye contact. You'd expected a little more small talk before jumping to the hard hitters, but Yoongi's been striking out for years. He's making the most of your defence being down.

"Can't, or won't?"

"Both," you feign a half smile. "Even if I wanted to, Yoongi, I don't think I could. I'm not made for you people like you."

"And what am I like?"

"Good," you speak so softly he can't help but smile. "Deserving of more."

He just shrugs. Doesn't hide his hurt. "What if I don't want more?"

"Yoongi-"

And then his hurt takes precedence; obscures any whispers in his mind that tell him not to do... well, do whatever the fuck this is. He's waited years for a green light from you. Instead, you'd raced through amber the night before. Looks red now. He just wants fucking green.

"I don't want more."

"Yoongi."

He looks down. Shakes his head.

When his gaze meets yours again, the windows are shut - but the curtains are still drawn open wide. It's dark inside. Lights are off, but there's somebody home. They're waiting for you to come home, too.

He walks a little closer to the sofa. "Tell me you didn't want me last night."

You're so good at lying. Have mastered it. And yet-

"That's not fair."

Why aren't you lying to him? You can be cold. You can be callous. You're perfectly capable of treating the ones you love like they mean nothing more than the shit beneath your shoes, and yet it's hard to do it with Yoongi. Hard to tell him anything he doesn't want to hear. He deserves the earth, you think, and yet all you're giving him is dirt that will get trapped beneath his nails.

"Tell me you didn't," he repeats, standing a little taller now. His shoulders are broad. Powerful. You'd be safe with Yoongi. Would want for nothing. "Tell me you didn't want me last night."

You look down. Shake your head.

Shame is a funny feeling. Fools you into thinking you should be honest.

"I can't."

Yoongi doesn't smile. Just nods. "Because you want me, too."

"Not for the right reasons, Yoongi," you stress, hoping he'll see sense.

"Who gives a fuck about the right reasons?"

"You will."

"I won't."

"When you ruin what's good for you because of something I can't give you, then you'll give a fuck," you tell him. The hairband might be hidden but there's half a tangerine tart left in his fridge and a concert ticket she bought for him taped on the door of it. His life is good. He doesn't need you storming through it like a summer typhoon. "I am nothing. I can give you nothing."

And then Yoongi does something all rather unexpected.

He smirks.

Toys at the corner of his lips with his tongue. Crosses his arms and raises his brow. "You gave me yourself last night."

"I gave you my body," you correct him, getting to your feet. Nothing good will happen from this conversation. You just need to get your keys and go. There's an urgency to your movements, heading towards the kitchen section of his open planing living space. Your keys will be on the hook where he keeps his own, you're sure. "Look, I've got-"

Your movements are halted as Yoongi reaches for your hand. Pulls you round. Walks you back until your ass is against the kitchen cupboards. You're looking up at him. The closeness of your bodies is intentional. Orchestrated by him; allowed by you. His voice is low as he says, "That's not nothing."

"But it's not enough," you stress, and you absolutely mean it. "I'm engaged to be married, Yoongi."

"And I'm already going to hell," he whispers, resting his forehead against yours. You don't stop him. "So I may as well have fun with it."

This is a side to him that you've never seen before. One that screams danger. Either he's learnt what you like in a man, or maybe he's just been hiding this part of him. He's tried being perfect, has seen it doesn't work. Maybe this is the real Min Yoongi.

"Yoongi," you say with little thought as his nose nudges against yours.

"Mhmm?" he hums back. His lips ghost yours. Your heart is beating out of your chest. One of his hands is flat against the kitchen counter as the other brushes up the curve of your waist.

You shake your head. The movement only causes the friction of your lips to tenfold. "If this happens, it doesn't mean anything."

He smiles against you. Shakes his head. Presses his lips against yours. One, two, remember to breathe. Pulls away. "It means everything."

You've always been a sucker for men who speak in definitive terms.

But you know how dangerous they can be, now. Know not to trust their words.

"We're not on the same page," you say. At least this way, you can't be accused of leading him on.

"We're not even reading the same damn book," Yoongi smiles against you. Kisses you again. Pulls away before you're ready for him to do so. "But does it really matter if they both have the same ending?"

And then you kiss him. It's soft. Tender. So sweet and gentle compared to the hardness of your heart. "It's not a happy ending."

"So close it, then," Yoongi says, pulling away from you a little. He's giving you the chance to leave. To get out. Escape. "Close your book. Stop this from happening."

But then you're kissing him again, and his tongue is in your mouth and - fuck - it's so nice to feel someone touch you with such intent. You know this is more than something casual, know that you've cared for Yoongi for too long for it not to have stemmed from nothing, but there's no permanence. It's terrifying and soothing all within the same swipe of his tongue against yours.

"One last chance," he says, lips so close to yours that he may as well be sending you telepathic messages. "Close your book if you want to."

It's shameful, the way you shake your head. Keep your eyes closed. Swallow. "But I wanna know what happens next."

Must sound like music to Yoongi's ears. He kisses you so deeply you think you may suffocate.

"What happens next is up to you," he moans into your lips, his nimble fingers pushing the button of your jeans through its fastening. "But it starts with this."

The sound of your breath is heavy. It soundtracks the murmur of your jeans zip being pushed down. Doesn't hide the way he curses against your lips.

"Yoongi," you whisper, eyes closing to stop yourself from catching his gaze.

His lips press against your throat, his dexterous fingers toying with the lace of your underwear. He knows he shouldn't. Knows that there's no taking this back. Knows he's fucking everything up - but he's played it safe for so fucking long and where has that ever gotten him before?

"Yoongi, I-" you try again, but his tongue strokes against your neck, teeth grazing it ever so scarcely. His fingers sink into your jeans. Press on your clit above your underwear. It has you gasping for air. He eases his pressure, then reapplies. Repeats. Your hips move languidly against his movements. You want this. Want him.

Want to feel like you're actually loved.

"Say the word, and I'll stop," he promises.

But you just shake your head.

"No?"

"No."

"Don't stop?"

He presses his fingers against you. Circles. Once, twice. God, it feels so fucking good to have him touch you like this. Has you mewling. "Don't stop."

"I won't. I'll make you feel so good," he husks against your neck. "You know I can do it. Know I can make you feel better than anyone else ever has."

The promise is pointed; directed at Jungkook. You hate that you're thinking about him. Hate that as you tug on Yoongi's hair, his fingers still pressing against your clothed cunt, it's Jungkook's face in your mind. His smirk, how he loved watching you come undone, how he comes undone.

And so you open them. Focus on Yoongi. Tell him how good he's already making you feel. Tell him how you've thought about this before.

It's not a lie. Admittedly, it was before Jungkook had ever come onto the scene, when you and Yoongi were still dancing that awkward line of flirting or friends. You'd settled on different sides, but, for a while, you contemplated what could happen if you chose the same side as him. Spent a couple of late nights imagining how he'd feel.

He's more delicate than you ever expected. Gentler. Softer.

"Is that what you want?" You moan as his lips yours, nails scratching up his throat, remembering how much he'd liked it the night before. He whines a little into the kiss. "Wanna make me feel good?"

He nods. "Wanna be the reason you cum."

His hands sink further into your jeans. Slip beneath your underwear. You're like fucking silk on his fingertips. Incredibly sodden silk, but silk nonetheless. Exquisite.

Yoongi presses his body into yours, and you can feel his bulge against your tummy. No matter how badly you appear to want him, he wants you more. Always has done.

What a devastating achievement this is. Yoongi finally has the girl he's wanted in the palm of his hand, lungs stuttering her chest - but it's tarnished.

All he ever wanted was to love you. Not to fuck you. Sure, it'd be an inevitable side-effect, not one he'd ever complain about, but this just... wasn't how he'd envisioned it.

He's not sure that he could classify what he feels now as love. It's something quite similar, yes, but it's tainted. The waters he's treading are murky, as if something could pull him under at any time. A little bit of seaweed, maybe, wrapping up around his ankle, seeping up his legs like the ribbons of ballet shoes, pulling him down to dance on the ocean floor.

He'd let it, he thinks, if it meant he got to dance with you.

It's when your hands creep to the top of his trousers that he knows he's won. Knows that you do want this, too. Want him.

The second your hand wraps around his length, warm and stiff in your palm, he's ready.

You'd come undone with one another the night before. Used each other. It was self-serving. Self-gratifying. But now?

He's going to be the reason you come undone. His movements. His hands. Him. All him.

The way he guides you through his apartment is sweet. Careful, and gentle; his back is to the walls just in case he knocks into them. Keeps you protected.

And that's exactly what Yoongi is; a safety net.

But as he gets you on his bed - gets you undressed, gets his lips in places he only could have dreamt of, his tongue on your skin, teeth nipping - it's easy to forget that the safety net is still suspended a few meters above ground. You're not entirely secure.

The way Yoongi cradles your jaw makes you think you are, though. He always asks permission. Never takes a chance. Is vocal not for the sake of it, but to make sure that you always have an out. He wants this, wants you, but only because he's convinced you want him too.

Let me eat your pussy, baby. Is that okay? Will you turn over for me? That's it. God, yeah like that. You're so fucking good at that. Wait, wait- no. I'll cum. Don't wanna cum yet. Sit on my face. Shut up, no, I don't care. Maybe I want you to suffocate me. God. Taste so fucking good. That's it. Grind. On my face, baby. All over it. Look at how hard you made me.

And how can you refuse his requests?

Yoongi doesn't hide what he likes. Likes you. Likes you on top. Your hand around his throat. The way your nails feel against his skin. Would really like for you to leave a mark but he always grabs onto your hand whenever he thinks that you might. It's a reminder: his body isn't yours.

His heart might be, but who cares about that?

You don't, clearly, and so nor does he. He'll take what you give him.

And what a gift it is; clammy bodies, dulcet moans, whines of his name.

Yoongi's thought about this so many times, but he's never realised how good it would feel; what it would be like to hear you giggle while he's pushing himself inside you. Had never realised that you'd kiss his temples when he bottoms out, or that you'd whisper his name like a fucking bible verse. Never considered that you'd be so tight around him that he'd spend a fair while warming his cock inside of you, kissing you slowly as you adjust to his size. Never thought you'd taste so sweet, sound so serene.

Never thought he'd get this.

But he did.

And so now he gets it. Gets why that blonde-haired prick couldn't stay away. Gets why he wanted Yoongi to know how well he'd been fucking you - because now it's the only thing Yoongi wants to do, too.

Wants you. Wants you. Wants you.

Wants you in his bed, on his floor, in his shower. Wants you in the GS25 stock room, wants you out back in one of the cars he's working on. Wants you in every way he can get you.

Wishes he hadn't taken so long to act on it.

Because he knows that he can never really have you, now.

It's why he's letting himself indulge on this occasion. He knows what he's doing is wrong, but as far as he can see it, it's a once in a lifetime. He'll never get the chance again.

Never get you sat on his cock like you are now, never get to watch the light that peaks through his half-closed blinds illuminating your features, never get your cheeks all rosy and dimpled like this ever again. Never gonna hold your bare hips as you grind against him, never gonna pull on your wrist to bring your chest flat to his, never gonna kiss you through another orgasm.

But for now, he does. Bucks his hips, whines your name, tells you he's there, tells you - oh god, like that, baby - he's gonna cum. Fuck.

And so you meet him there. Rub delicate circles on your swollen cunt, bringing yourself to release just when he does. The thin layer of latex between you protects you from becoming his, but it all feels the same. The way your heart beats. The way he kisses you. It all feels the fucking same.

His arms wrap around your back. Hold you tightly. A kiss is pressed into your shoulder; up your neck.

The guilt that you expect to arrive never comes.

It will do, eventually - but much later on. His will come in the depths of the night, when he's sleeping beside his girlfriend, too much of a coward to tell her that he's betrayed her.

You think yours will come in the cold light of day a few months from now, when you finally let your brain process everything you've been through.

He tells you he's sorry, cock still buried inside of you, and you shake your head. Tell him you're sorry, too.

"What if I don't forgive you?" He teases, trying to lighten the mood - but you almost think he means it.

"Good," you smile. "It would be good if you don't."

You trace the vein that runs down his arm, and forge some faux sense of intimacy. You're playing house, but you can't play forever. Always have to go back to reality at some point.

This point comes half an hour later; Yoongi shirtless in a pair of sweats, leaning against his door frame toying with loose strands of your hair. He wants to kiss you. "Do you regret it?"

You want to kiss him, too. "Do you?"

The way you ask is so light and airy that Yoongi still feels like he's floating. The only thing he wants to weigh him down is your body on his.

"No."

Your want is growing too large, so you look down to avoid his gaze. Yoongi notices a lash on your cheek. A wish. He should reach for it. Collect it on his thumb, tell you to blow it away.

But he already knows what you'll wish for. Who.

And so he doesn't give you the chance. Hopes the wind will steal it from you.

"Don't be a stranger," he tells you as you go. His lips are plump, annoyed with his brain at the lack of kisses stolen from you before you left.

You lie. Tell him that you won't be. Say you'll see him soon.

Both of you know that you won't.

And it's only confirmed when you get into your car - breath heavy, eyes warm, tears verging - and you spot fucking Jieun walking up the road towards Yoongi's apartment. She's carrying a punnet of tangerines. Wears her hair tied into a half ponytail like you used to do.

This. Now. Yeah, this is when the guilt comes.

It makes so much fucking sense. Of course they'd have ended up together without you in the way to fuck everything up like you're so bloody good at. You wait until she's inside his apartment complex to start the car up, and fucking pray that Yoongi's gone to freshen up, that he's hidden the condom in the trash, that his lips won't taste like you.

Oh god, it's all so fucked.

"What have I done?" You berate yourself, head resting on the top of your steering wheel.

Whatever has happened has happened. You can't take it back. Nor can Yoongi. Just a fact of life now: Min Yoongi has fucked you. And you've fucked his life up.

You dart through town, giving little to no shit about the speed limits nor the unwritten rules of the roads, and find yourself cleaning tears off your cheeks with the back of your hand. You're not crying, not really. Not intentionally. It's just kind of happening.

That's your excuse for everything these days. It just happened.

The radio is off, and the roads are smooth beneath your tyres, but everything just feels so fucking loud. The engine barely makes a rumble but it feels like it's roaring at you. Screaming.

And then you are, too.

Screaming at the world; why it had to be this way. Why you're incapable of making good decisions. Why you couldn't have just stayed in Busan with the boy who'd stained you red with the colour of his love that ended up being nothing more than a little lie.

By the time you get to Kang's, you really are sobbing. It's in the way your shoulders shake; chest tightens. That's the issue with going back to your family. You're a frightened little girl all over again. Out of your depth. No fucking clue what you're doing. Just trying to feel something. Anything. Anyone.

For a moment, it had worked. And now everything is broken again.

You twist the keys in the ignition; let the engine cool before you pull yourself together. Pull down the sun visor, check yourself in the mirror. Check for signs of weakness. Grab a little lipstick from the centre console. Your eyes aren't all that bad. There's a little blush on your face, but there's plausible deniability. If anyone questions if you've been crying, you can blame it on windburn. Or tell them to fuck off and mind their own business. One of the two.

A deep breath settles in your sternum. You're not who you were a minute ago. You can do this.

Shoulders rolled back, you hold your head high as you enter the boxing club. The TV is playing in the background, Seokjin and Namjoon sat up by the sofas. They're surprised to see you, but it's not entirely out of the blue. They knew you'd be back.

Jimin clocks you as he's grabbing a water, and nods. You don't nod back.

And despite the fact you refuse to look at him as you enter the boxing club, Jungkook knows.

He's not entirely sure of what he knows, he's just aware of the fact you aren't quite yourself. There's an elegance to how you carry yourself and now is just the same, but... there's something. He can't pinpoint it. Can't figure it out.

But of course he can't.

It's a matter of the heart, not the mind.

In the same vein, it's not a matter at all. He doesn't care about you. Not like that. Doesn't give a shit if you're hurting, or if you're upset, or if someone has been unkind but-

Oh, fuck it.

He does care. He does, he does, he does. He cares so much. So, so much. So much that it feels like his heart has been ripped from his chest just looking at you. There's blood pooling all around him. Kids fucking dance in it like puddles. You watch from afar with a smile and a shrug, holding his still beating heart in your hands. You did this, love.

Jungkook closes his eyes. Shakes the image from his head. Tells himself to stay off the hallucinogenics for awhile.

His eyes find you again as you walk towards Seokjin. Jungkook is down by the bags, unwrapping his hands after a heavy session. There's sweat gleaming on his skin, staining pretty patterns down the back of his shirt. He's pleased you'd arrived now. Knows he looks like shit, but also knows how much you liked fucking him after a workout. Would tell him not to shower. Was the pheromones. Some shit like that. Drove you fucking wild.

The pleasure he takes in your timing is forgotten about when he realises just hollow your eyes are. Finds himself actually wanting a shower - admittedly, with you. It was always where you'd find the most comfort together, and that's what he wants. Just wants to fix whatever's gone wrong for you today.

Instead, he just walks toward the sofas. Doesn't like not being a part of the discussion. There are a few nods. Slight deliberation - and then Seokjin calls the Jungkook and Jimin in to the sofas regardless.

"Taking a vote," he says. It's already been discussed in private between the boys, but no formal plans have been put in place.

You choose to stand. Jungkook sinks into the leather of the sofa in front of you. Avoids eye contact. You pretend to look at the men around you, but you don't really take any of them in. You're unfocused. Disillusioned; disassociating. Daydreaming of the beach, where the water is clear and the sand is warm.

And then, you do let your eyes fall on his. They're so wide and worried. Jungkook is certain he's never seen you like this. Something isn't aligning. Hasn't been since you left, but he thought things would fall back into place when you returned.

You okay? he says silently.

You look him up. Look him down. Part your lips - only to close them again once Seokjin starts talking.

"All those in favour of working together?"

One by one they raise their hands. Seokjin first, then Jimin. Namjoon looks around. Shuffles uncomfortably. Doesn't look at you as he raises his hand.

"Kook?" Seokjin asks.

"It's a bad fuckin' idea," he says, eyes never once dropping from yours. He's not telling the boys. He's telling you.

"Your forte," you say sweetly, but there's no smile on your lips.

And he just nods.

"Yeah. It is."

He raises his hand.

Full house.

"Alright, then," Seokjin beams. "Let's get to work."

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

Inspired by the "we had King and Lionheart on 8tracks" post going around and prompted by the latest work by Lyv, a musician doing fan songs for BG3 characters, who reached Dame Aylin and (very correctly) concluded "yeah, this one needs to be a 7-minute metal track" - here's my personal selection of things I listen to to instantly hop into my Aylin mindset. I mean, I loved 8tracks and I have King and Lionheart on all my playlists forever, but here I think I'm going for an older feel, when we had LiveJournal posts of pertinent lyric extracts with mp3s of the songs and YouSendIt links expiring in a week.

Aylin, for me, tends towards bombastic and cheesy symphonic/power metal, with lavish guitar solos and dramatic lyrics about fighting dark lords and riding dragons and seeking magical swords, lovingly crafted labyrinthine fantasy lore stretching over and across albums, often delivered in somewhat awkward English. But also just a lot of big, loud feelings that I love listening to metal for. She was made to grace album covers, is what I'm saying.

Without further ado, under the cut I give you my 8 Metal Tracks To Fly Around And Smite Your Father-In-Law To (but it's actually 16 because I provided an alt option for each song).

Seeking Vengeance by Unleash the Archers

Like a wave of death, I wash over all who stand in my way, there's no redemption now

Self-explanatory in all things, I'd say. Big, powerful vengeance song with moments of nuance, in that we get "I am the falling blade" and "Who have I become? I know not where I've gone to" both packed in there. And also, the song just slaps.

Alt: Afterlife, the song that provides a counterplay with "I won't waste my freedom, vengeance will not make me whole". And also some killer instrumentals.

2. Spillways by Ghost

All your faith, all your rage, all your pain It ain't over now, and I ain't talking about forgiveness

Dealing with anger and darkness that exist within you and needing to find an outlet to stop it all from overflowing? Say no more. Ghost is a fave of mine but most of their stuff wouldn't really fit here, theme-wise. This song is perfect though.

Alt: Hunter's Moon is another one of my go-tos to ponder some inevitable violent vengeance.

3. Where Angels Fear to Fly by Battle Beast

They say the darkest hours are just before the dawn That we must die to be reborn I'm still alive, I'm ready for the pain When I fall, I'll rise again I spread my wings and like the midnight sun I will be rising

Five million years ago I saw these guys open for Nightwish and sing about Guts and Griffith from Berserk and got hooked. This is a far more recent offering, and it's both a banger and super on the nose for what I'm looking for here.

Alt: Wings of Light which hits the spot in a very similar vein.

4. NightSky by Kamelot

I'll stay with you all through your pain Blood of my blood Remember your name 'Cause when the night sky is coming down I'm watching over you And when the darkness falls Just close your eyes Remember your name

This is unironically my Selûne song and my brain loves tying it into the whole "Nightsong was only ever a curse" thing.

Alt: Silent Goddess prompted by that one kickass fanart that quoted it.

5. Rain of Fury by Rhapsody of Fire

Rain of fury my blade, like wings in the mist Hold my breath in the shade, both my hands on the hilt A thousand sparkles collide, igniting the cave There's nowhere to hide, I'm the valorous, the brave

These guys won my heart a couple of decades ago when they first sang about winning the dark lord with an emerald sword and they never fail to get me pumped. Some classic stuff to really get you going, get you on that quest, get you through that dungeon.

Alt: March Against the Tyrant, primarily for the gentle farewell-before-battle "Let me feel once more how much life you have on your lips" opening.

6. Charcoal Grace I: Prey by Caligula's Horse

I could bind my heart to anger And hold my breath for bliss that was promised me While the desperate hands of vengeance demand to deliver me

I actually have a very hard time picking between Part I and Part IV (and I usually don't listen to one without the other) - in fact the entire very heavy suite about reckoning with a horrible father is… something else. This is absolutely an outlier style-wise and genre-wise as it's pure prog, but it really taps into a specific brand of anger for me and I love it.

Alt: The aforementioned Charcoal Grace IV: Give Me Hell aka "Give back the years you stole and beg me".

7. Amaranth by Nightwish

Caress the one, the never-fading rain in your heart

Listen, this one is here purely because I imprinted on the music video with the wounded angel when I was 15. But also there's a couple of amaranth-as-tied-to-immortality "never-fading" references in it so it stays.

Alt: Sleeping Sun for a calm, sad, yearning time.

8. The Maiden and the Minstrel Knight by Blind Guardian

Proudly it stands Until the world's end The victorious banner of love

A non-angry one to end things on! Blind Guardian is one of my favourite bands ever and so they were bound to be here. It's been really hard to stick to one two songs per artist. Anyway, I wouldn't go with this one as super directly applicable lyrically as it's a Tristan and Isolde song, but the chorus gets me, I love listening to it, and I maintain it has the correct Vibes.

Alt: When Sorrow Sang, aka the Beren and Luthien song off their Silmarillion album, for all the obvious mortal/immortal reasons.

[uenodivision]

Hypnosis Mic Shuffle Team, Vol. 4 (Part 2) (Cont.)

The Power of Justiceマジックパラディン! (Paladin Solo)

7 Wonders of HypMic

Akihisa "Azrael" Mashiro

Maki "Professor Z-3" Umemoto

Shuu "Men-H" Edogawa

Rintaro "Ignis" Himura

Yoichi "Jekyll" Shujo

Ren "Vox" Nakashima

Kaiji "Jinx" Sano

Hypnosis Break (Welcome to Our Realm)

The Fatherless

Kunio "James Moriarty" Chōten

Kokomi "Snegurochka" Morozov

To the Motherf*cker of My Sperm Donner

The Nemesis Council

Tomi "High Class" Chōten - "The Gentleman of Crime"

Reiaki "Black Cat" Suzubayashi - "The Cat"

Nadya "Vipera" Kuromiya - "The Master of Fear"

Iwao "TRIXT4R" Masuda - "The Prince of Puzzles"

Reika "Belladonna" Aichi - "The Green's Chosen Warrior"

Yuno "Kiiro" Kamora - Professor Strange

Tasuku "Katame" Kawanoe - Harvey Dent

Eko "Aoi" Seishin - Basil Karlo

Akihisa "Azrael" Mashiro - "The Fastest Killer Alive"

Max "Ōkami" Soukoku - "The Demon"

Eiji "MC KRATOS" Mizoguchi - Waylon Jones

Ryuko "Mista Z.B." Umemoto - Roman Sionis

Rashaad "Straight Up" Young - "The Man Who Never Missed"

Aoba "Guinevere" Yamamura - Victor Fries

Oki "ATLAS" Teagan - "Lover of Venom"

Rinko "X-Tasy" Kurosaki - Harleen Frances Quinzel

Kanon "Mz. Hyde" Hojo - "The Clown Prince of Crime"

Woe to Gotham

Digital Demons

Reiaki "Black Cat" Suzubayashi

Criss "Paradox" Hiromi

Joey "Joker" Kurusu

Eiji "MC Mogul" Noguchi

Yuriko "Black Dahlia" Kuromiya

Village of Nightmares

Lady Luck's Charm

Yorii "Sireen" Sakuma

Lola "Aphrodite" Takahashi

Makina "Screen Shot" Setsukura

Hoàng "MC Lotus" Diệu

Evelyn "SPIRIT" Rose

Sakura "Renegade" Kito

Kotono "Shiki" Ohara

"Queen Card"

Gambling Freak

Kiya Kara

Ryūzō "Kage" Mizutori

Kotono "Shiki" Ohara

Takumi "GUTS" Wakaba

The Sannin

The OP League

Tetsuya "FЯE4K" Yashiro - "The Son of Sparda"

Ryūzō "Kage" Mizutori - "Jack the Ripper"

Seiji "Avenger" Tsukimoto - John-117

Oki "ATLAS" Teagan - Doom Slayer

Aika "VeeXn" Yumi - "The Umbra Witch"

Shian "Ready or Not" Meizono - "The Guardian of the Galaxy"

Kaiji "Jinx" Sano - "The One-Winged Angel"

Aoi "Blue Wolf" Yamamura - "God of Wrath"

Ryuko "Mista Z.B." Umemoto - "The Raging Demon"

Ted "Teddy" Bridges - "The God of War"

Zakari "Icarus" Hiroya - "The Champion of the Jötnar"

Why We Can't Be Beat

HypMic's Best Friends

Tasuku "Katame" Kawanoe

Shisuta "The Saint" Heisha

Sayaka "Rhopalocera" Miyuki

Maki "Professor Z-3" Umemoto

Ririko "2Cute" Akihara

Eden "Ember" Yamamura

Saigo "Tsukumogami" Fuyugami

Anika "Rush Hour" Kiyozaki

Kensaku "Dr. K Tone" Morimoto

Itsuki "Tsuki" Kamiko

Everything is Connected

Hikikomori Hip-Hop Clan

Aoi "Blue Wolf" Yamamura

Ryūnosuke "Fist N Fury" Sekiguchi

Zakari "Icarus" Hiroya

Joey "Joker" Kurusu

Yano "Y-STARR" Ietsuna

Ace "MC Patriot" Douglas

Tasuku "Katame" Kawanoe

Makina "Screen Shot" Setsukura

Yuuya "ARROW" Kanata

Eko "Aoi" Seishin

Eiji "MC KRATOS" Mizoguchi

Kaoru "Arachne" Shinozaki

Eiji "MC Mogul" Noguchi

Yorii "Sireen" Sakuma

Tetsuya "FЯE4K" Yashiro

Lyall "Corvus" Shiba

The Book of Otakus

@obihiro-division @katsushika-division @suginami-division @sapporo-division @kobedivision

@kumamoto-division @hakodate-division @minato-division03 @minato-division01 @shizuokadivision

@fukuokadivision1 @naradivision @aichi-division @okinawa-division @ginza-division

@adachi-division @akihabaradivision @kanazawa-division @edogawa-division @setagaya-division

@saitama-division @akihabara-division03 @sendaidivision @kagoshima-division @niigata-division

@aomori-division @nakanodivision @toyama-division @kyoto-division @fukuokanodivision

[simplyclary]

Fan-Casting You As My Favorites

(Photo credits to Mekhi Turner)

As an avid reader and movie geek, there's always a point in time when I cast my favorite actor/actress as a character. It's just inevitable to do. And recently, I have imagined Taylor Zakhar Perez as many characters he can play in the future from books and animated movies alike.

Those listed below is just the most popular ones I have casted him as. Also note that other than the first one, the last three are just my personal fan-casts. So without further ado, here's the first one and by far the most popular one even TZP himself knows about this.

First Fan-Cast: Taylor Zakhar Perez as Flynn Rider (Eugene Fitzherbert) in the upcoming live-action Tangled.

(Photos credits to London Fashion Week on Twitter/X and Disney)

I mean, what else can I say? As a Disney fan since the age of 3, I approve of this fancast. Like it's going to be so good to see Taylor play a scoundrel turned prince. Something like Han Solo vibes. He's got the looks, the voice (I'm also manifesting a solo song for him considering that the other princes in the other live-action remakes get a solo song).

To note at a lot of people also had a crush on Flynn Rider so why not cast one of the most handsome men alive to play him. I will definitely be seated for this movie if ever he is casted.

I also want to mention I have a lot of people whom I want to play Rapunzel (Florence Pugh, Sabrina Carpenter and Dove Cameron are among my candidates) but there's only one Flynn Rider for me and that is Taylor Zakhar Perez.

Here's a link to mycast.io where people can vote on their faves about a role: TZP as Flynn Rider Fancast. Good to see that TZP is the top choice for the role, as he should be.

Onto the next roles....I would again like to reiterate that these are just my personal fan-casts, especially as of recent times, when TZP decided to emotionally kill me by wearing all-black ensembles.

Second Fan-Cast: Taylor Zakhar Perez as Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court

(Photo credits from TZP's Instagram; artwork credits from artworks-by-rokii from Instagram)

Ahhh, my High Lord of the Night Court and the most beautiful man I (and the main character Feyre) have ever seen.

For those who are unfamiliar with Rhysand's character, he is the High Lord of the Night Court in the A Court of Thorns and Roses book series by Sarah J. Maas. Physicality-wise, he is a tanned-tall and chiseled Fae man with black-blue hair and eyes that are so blue that they are the color of violets. Manner-wise, he is kind and is always willing to defend those he loves. He would rather let himself suffer than let his loved ones suffer. He may look so evil at first but once you get to know him, you'll see that underneath that dark exterior is a heart of gold.

Why am I fan-casting TZP as Rhysand, you ask? The answer is simple. Coz I love both of them! Also, I am not the first one to fancast Taylor as Rhysand. I merely saw a tweet and that one tweet was enough to end my fantasies afloat.

Also, to see him play a morally grey character would be a treat. It would be a good opportunity to cast him because Hulu is adapting ACOTAR into a TV series so at this point, I'm just hoping for the best.

He's also one of the many actors that people want to see play Rhysand. TZP as Rhysand fan-cast.

Third Fan-Cast: Taylor Zakhar Perez as Azriel from A Court of Mist and Fury

(TZP Photo from Pinterest; Artwork credits by artworks-by-rokii on Instagram)

Another character from the ACOTAR series. Azriel is one of my most favorite characters in the story. Physicality, he is also tall and has black wings protruding from his back. Azriel is also known to be one of Rhysand's best friends. He is still a mysterious character to me and I have yet to read a book where he is the central character.

Getting Taylor to play a mysterious character like Azriel would be a joy because you will spend the whole time figuring out his goals.

I would also like to be honest here and say that TZP is not the first choice to play Azriel but I'm okay with that because Matthew Daddario is the main choice to play Azriel. Matt is also one of my favorite actors because of his amazing portrayal of Alec Lightwood in Shadowhunters.

This is the last of the fan-casts for the ACOTAR series but I would like to share another one.

Fourth Fan-Cast: Taylor Zakhar Perez as Xaden Riorson from Fourth Wing.

(TZP photo credits to Mekhi Turner; Artwork credits from booknuts_ on Instagram)

Xaden Riorson. One of the most exquisite men I (and Violet Sorrengail) have ever seen.

For those who are unaware, Xaden is the wingleader of the Fourth Wing. He has a dragon named Sgaeyl and is Violet's love interest. He is handsome and has dark eyes and dark hair.

I personally consider Xaden as the "Rhysand" of the Fourth Wing series but considering that the second book just came out, I'm a little scared for his future.

Similar to Rhysand, I'm not the first to cast TZP as Xaden because the media platform enews posted a TikTok not long ago that Taylor is their dream guy to play Xaden. Personally, I'm not mad about that because knowing that Taylor is a big fan of Harry Potter and this series has a Harry Potter mixed with Hunger Games vibe to it, so playing Xaden would be like entering a Harry Potter-esque world.

Taylor is one of the many actors people want as Xaden and here's a link for further proof: TZP as Xaden Riorson.

A Conclusion of a Fantasy

I'm a lover of the fantasy genre and these characters are just a selected few that are honestly, my personal favorites. I love these characters and to see Taylor play one of them in the future is a dream to see unfold on the big screen. Of course, I have also fan-casted him as some Marvel superheroes here and there and some rich billionaire CEO. My fancasts is honestly endless.

Feel free to share who you fan-casted Taylor as because now that the strike is over, productions are back in full swing. I would love to see TZP as any character and I would love for him to explore characters and genres. I will be watching every movie and series that will come out. That's a promise.

[originemesis]

[continued - xxx] @avispatr , @mages-pandoras-box , @a-hell-of-a-time

Something practical to say huh? Well, he's not wrong because Adam is currently mid-jam session on that axe shaped guitar of his, and the most practical thing that follows his mutilation of a melody is the obnoxious battle cry of a guitar solo without pesky lyrics to distract from the "-nyAHNANA NA NA BANANANUUUUUAHHHHH!!!" 'Practical. Progressive. Pussy Peril. Adam.' T-shirt sales guaranteed.

Though it would take some kind of feat to distract him from his duties in drumming up more vibrations via high-strung strings and swirling them into the whirlwind of a pillar busy picking and assembling small pieces of the Goetian manor like peeling skin off a sunburnt back, a display of growing multiple beast heads certainly fit the minimum requirement to turn his own, half cocked and banging in place along with the beat. Oh yeah...just imagining how hard an act of headbanging would fuck with four thrashing points, the angel dips a golden wing tip into the swirl of his churning twister of sound and window glass and rides the pillar up higher escalator style for a better gander of those drooling maws from above. Aw! The bottom one on the left...was that a cleft lip? Adorbs.

"Funny you're so ON about ~dignity~ when you're over here giving all this HEAD. Lemme guess- this is your circumcision 'trauma' story talking~?" A tsk is interrupted by the blast of magic from below. He might as well have settled over an air vent with how it inflates his robe into a parachute and shoots him upwards with a jerk of jarring turbulence, leaving him momentarily as fucked as Mary Poppins. Annoyed gaze flicking down at the source, he flings the neck of his guitar downwards once he takes up the task of royally fucking the environment again with his thunderous set of strumming to fling more sound waves at the staggered beast, its snowy feathered companion, and the fuckwad that thought it cute to blow him off course like a dandelion seed. That just left-...someone unimportant, he's sure!

Considering there's literally OWL DRAGON heads to pspspsps at, which he does by flinging the beast's round of testy sound waves at, a particularly screechy one to mimic the four sides of its snarling. "Or are you just trying to get AHEAD of me here~!?" Practically preening his strings with each forward flick of wrist, he chuckles as the weight of the axe suddenly drops his forearms just a tad with the added weight of its swelling. Though the party just getting started gets postponed with the swoop of black feathers bursting up by his blindside.

It's with a startled shove of his shoulder that he interrupts the neck-bound slash, catching it at the crook between collarbone and shoulder cap in a spurt of golden blood that splashes Caim's obsidian feathers a shade of iridescence. It's a quick shock and an inconvenience that he issues a shrieking hiss and a fierce beat of golden wings against his attacker to both slap the other away with the edges of his primaries and issue a backwards gust, and to gain altitude near the newly formed, thrashing heads that made up Paimon's four sided murder boner. "You fucking...BITCH." He snarls down at Caim, making sure the next few sonic booms from his renewed playing finds their way towards her. Birds were birds...if he could flip them over their own ass in the air long enough, then they'd get to taste exactly what he was cooking with the unrelenting symphony at his talon tips. "Giving head sloppy as that, girlie? Well your form's shit! Here ~ " He clucks, nodding horns towards the thrashing necks of the beast before them all. "Let me show you HOW IT'S..." Another burst of growth in his axe plumps it further as he waits in the twisting winds of the pillar before beating his wings to shoot out towards a different pillar to climb...the neck of one of Paimon's heads. The 'unassuming but quirky' one. Robes brush the feathery fury of whipping shadows as he spirals up the base midway, he pauses in his plucking to grasp the very end of his axe's neck and swing the momentum of his full body weight into a vicious spiral of his own.

Action surge. "-DOooOOOoOOoNE !! CAW CAWWWWWWW...!"

hit counter - [2/20] , phase - [1]

[robiin-draws]

Welcome to the HCDA - Chapter 4

Warnings: None

Notes: Sorry for the lack of updates. I forgot, and then promptly got sick

Chapter 4 - Run in with friends

Grian

I’m on my first solo patrol of sorts. I’m not really sure what to call it, a patrol? A mission? An assignment?

Well, I’m supposed to be gathering up some negative emotions for the Watchers in the shopping mall, which is pretty easy, lots of people have bad days all the time. I’m honestly not sure why the Watchers try to cause trouble, people give themselves enough. Sometimes, I wish I could help them.

My emotions vial is strapped in my rope belt. It collects the emotions I am able to harvest from people, storing them until I can deposit them in the actual emotion storage. 

Inside, the emotions take the form of a tiny ball of flame. They look kind of like the appearance of the typical soul in the movies and stories, a white hot core surrounded by colored fire.

The diamond shaped glass jar is about halfway full with emotions, and more are popping in every second as I let the negativity flow in.

It’s been a few days now, since the Watchers took me.

No one seems suspicious of me, a cloaked figure with purple wings strolling through a mall. The Watchers have that sort of effect on people, they are never suspicious unless they know who the Watchers are or are thinking about them.

Another Watcher power is the ability to read emotions. I can vaguely tell why the emotion is the way it is, and it’s stronger with negative emotions, but I definitely can tell.

There’s one who’s having trouble with friends, one whose heart is broken, one who’s struggling with a physical problem… 

That’s when I spot her.

Gem is standing in the crowd, her braided orange hair tucked over one shoulder and a bag of groceries slung over the other. I sense that she’s upset. Worried, sad, almost… Angry? About someone being taken from her- 

Oh. Me. She’s worried about me.

It hadn’t quite occurred to me how much panic my disappearance must have caused, and I feel bad for not thinking about it earlier. They must be devastated.

I pull my hood up further and hope she doesn’t notice me. Unfortunately, Gem does manage to spot me, and she’s not happy. 

I feel a sudden spike of fury as she comes and drags me by the arm into a space between two buildings. It’s not quite big enough to be an alley, but I guess you could call it that.

Gem slams me against the wall, anger burning in her green eyes.

“What have you and your friends done with Grian you son of a-” She stops, her eyes going wide with shock as she recognizes me. “You’re not- You haven’t-” She stammers.

“It was the only way I could protect you.” I sigh, not meeting her eyes. Gem releases me from the wall. 

“We’ve been worried sick!” She bursts out. I don’t want to know the hermits’ reaction. “It was… It’s been bad. Scar was almost in tears announcing it, and Pearl didn’t get any sleep last night. None! I don’t think Mumbo’s sleep was great either.”

I flinch. Every part of me wants to go with her and go back, but I know I can’t. The Watchers would kill them. “Nobody can know.” I say, my voice strained. “They can’t know I’m with the Watchers. They’ll just get themselves killed trying to rescue me.”

“At least let me tell them you’re alive,” Gem pleads. “A lot of us think you might be dead.”

I freeze. Dead? Yeah, I can see captured or something, but dead?

“Okay.” I say slowly. “Won’t they get suspicious?”

“No.” She tells me firmly. “I’ll bring them some of your feathers, and that should be proof enough.”

I pick up on her train of thought quite easily. “If the feathers are warm and recent, then that’ll definitely work.”

Gem nods. “That would. But can I still tell them eventually?”

“Let me learn some things about them first, so we can actually fight them.” I say. “I’ll send you a signal, like…” I trail off. What would be a good signal?

“A purple Watcher feather.” She says, pointing to my Watcher wings. “I’ll know when I see a Watcher feather.”

“Sounds good.” I let my wings revert to red and gold, their normal appearance, and pluck two feathers, one from each colored section. I hold out the feathers to Gem.

“You never saw anything but these, got it?” I say as she takes the feathers.

“Got it.” She says, and takes off running.

I watch her disappear into the crowd and can only hope they believe her. A purple feather… I can still finish my work. I can gather information, and I can take the Watchers down.

[cherrypikkins]

Some endings for my Fe3H OC: Kitt Burgess, whose info can be found here and here!

Heavy spoilers under the cut

Solo Ending - "Stalker of Beasts"

All: Kitt wanders Fodlan alone, hunting monsters and Demonic Beasts alike without mercy. Little by little, Fodlan is purged of these creatures, allowing the people to live in relative safety. People now say that the Oghma Mountains are now guarded by a lone warrior with the ability to transform into a savage, majestic beast on wings.

Silver Snow: Same as above, except Kitt refuses to return to Garreg Mach Monastery until the Church takes responsibility for their past deception. If Rhea survives, she personally finds a way to bring all truth to light while preserving peace and trust in Fodlan. Grateful for her efforts, Kitt agrees to safeguard the Holy Mausoleum for the rest of their days.

Byleth All: With Byleth's guidance, Kitt is able to master their ability to transform, seamlessly taking on the shape of a beast while keeping their human mind intact. Thereafter they remain at Byleth's side, helping to maintain order and peace in Fodlan. When things calm down, the two would spend much time in the Oghma Mountains. Over time, where Kitt's former village once stood, a new one is built in its place.

Crimson Flower: Same as above, except Kitt and Byleth also unleash their fury upon those who slither in the dark.

Linhardt All: After much discussion, Kitt agrees to assist Linhardt as a research and test subject. With trust and collaboration, the effects of Kitt's blood and Crest Stone are studied at length. Though it takes years of research and experimentation, Linhardt devises a way to reverse demonic transformation, ensuring that those who are corrupted can be restored to their former selves. By this time, Kitt has fully realized their ability to transform, and chooses not to undergo the procedure.

Sylvain All: When Sylvain inherits his title as the Margrave of House Gautier, Kitt decides to pay him a visit. Not long after, stories begin to spread of a strange figure out of legend safeguarding northern kingdom territory from Sreng invasion. Some say it is a mysterious warrior, others insist that it is a monstrous creature. Whatever the case, their efforts make it easier for Sylvain to convince the leaders of Fodlan that Relics and Crests are no longer essential to protecting the realm from invaders.

Bernadetta All: Inheriting her title as Countess of House Varley, Bernadetta remains reclusive, but enjoys frequent visits from Kitt, who gifts her with various stones, flowers, and treasures that they picked up from their journeys. They have become so numerous that Bernadetta has had to catalogue each item. Little by little she begins to enjoy the outdoors, though if only in the confines of her estate gardens. For some reason, no one ever dared threaten or belittle her again.

Felix Azure Moon: As the new Duke of Fraldarius, Felix seeks out Kitt's expertise when monsters threaten the Kingdom's borders. For their service, Kitt is granted a base of operations in Fraldarius territory. To Kitt's dismay, Felix would forget his responsibilities and leap into the action the moment he heard a monster was on the rampage nearby, forcing Kitt to reign him in.

Non-Azure Moon: Felix sets out as a wandering swordsman, abandoning his title. By chance, he crosses paths with Kitt, who requires assistance dispatching a Demonic Beast. They end up hunting monsters together as a profession. Eventually, the stories of knights and chivalry fall out of popularity in favour of those depicting unfettered warriors who slew monsters.

Lysithea All: As Lysithea returns home, Kitt accompanies her. With their assistance, Lysithea and her family are able to restore their sovereign land to its people and live the rest of their days peacefully as commoners. For ages thereafter, a mysterious warrior rumored to be a Demonic Beast in disguise would defend former Ordelia territory from those who slither in the dark, annihilating them without mercy whenever they tried to re-enact their campaign of horror upon the people.

Marianne All: Marianne returned home, receiving tutelage from her adoptive father and becoming wise and talented politician. When monsters threaten Edmund territory, Marianne fears the return of her family's curse, and asks Kitt to help her investigate. Together, the two of them defeat the scourge of monsters threatening Leicester, allowing its people to live and travel in peace. The two of them would part ways, but somehow always manage to meet up on the road while Marianne is traveling between territories.

Claude Verdant Wind: Claude remains in Fodlan just long enough to stay by Kitt's side as they safely master their ability to shapeshift, upon which Kitt gladly accompanies him to Almyra. Kitt's transformation as a winged beast allows Claude to travel to and make contact with lands unknown, making it easier for him to build a world where all differences are accepted.

Seteth & Flayn Non-Crimson Flower: Kitt reconciles with Seteth and Flayn, who affirm that Kitt will always be family no matter what happens. After ensuring the safety and freedom of Fodlan, the three of them fade together from history. Seteth and Flayn return to the public eye once an entire age has passed, though at times they are seen fiercely guarded by a winged beast.

Edelgard Crimson Flower: Kitt remains fiercely loyal to Edelgard as she transforms Fodlan into a free and independent nation for all, and takes great joy in helping her deal with those who slither in the dark. Using a cache of ancient Agarthian knowledge uncovered from the ruins of Shambhala, Edelgard is able to remove her Crests and Kitt is able to remove their Crest Stone and cleanse the Nabatean blood from their veins. The two of them live out the rest of their lives side by side as ordinary people.

More on actual supports later. Hope you enjoyed it :3

edit: I can't believe forgot Hapi!!!!!

Hapi

All: After the war, Kitt and Hapi set out on their own to travel Fodlan as they pleased and lay waste to the remnants of TWSITD without mercy whenever they returned to wreak harm or continue their experiments on the people of Fodlan. Thanks to their efforts, the population of Demonic Beasts and monsters decline such that whenever Hapi would sigh, only Kitt would come running over. This was something she would do frequently when they were separated for longer than she would like.

[princessfbi]

Tag Game: Fandom Edition

Tagged by @mistmarauder

Current Hyperfixation: 911 and rocks

Previous Hyperfixation: Poe Dameron

Top 5 Ships of All Time: Buddie (911), WinterHawk (Marvel), Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Mis), Diana Bishop/Matthew DeClaremont (ADOW), Donna Moss/Josh Lyman (The West Wing)

Top 5 Ships at the Moment: Buddie (911), Madney (911), Niko/Bran (Legacy Series by Rina Kent), Marian (The Gilded Age), Matt Murdock/Frank Castle (Marvel)

Top 5 Fandoms of All Time: 911, The Man From UNCLE, The Almighty Johnsons, Les Miserables, White Collar

Favorite Female Character of All Time: Maddie Buckley (911)

Favorite Minor Character of All Time: Marcus Whitmore or maybe Gallowglass (ADOW)

A Rarepair that you love: WinterHawk? I don't hear much but I love it.

An OT3+ that you love: APPARENTLY I'M IN GOOD COMPANY WITH Illya Kuryakin/Napoleon Solo/Gaby Teller (The Man from U.N.C.L.E. (2015))

Favorite Movie: The Man from UNCLE

Favorite TV Series: 9-1-1 and A Discovery of Witches

Favorite Book: Secret Service by Tal Bauer, Green Creek Series by TJ Klune, God of Fury by Rina Kent

First Site you Ever Read Fanfiction on: Ao3

Where You Find Most of your Fanfiction Today: Ao3

Favorite Social Media Site for Fandom: Tumblr

Tagging @homerforsure @mellaithwen @bigfootsmom @like-the-rest-of-la @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels @buddie-buddie @djdangerlove

[iron-sparrow]

女士憤怒

Four months. Nearly four months in this gods-forsaken wasteland, this frozen tribute to Man’s greed and endless thirst for power. To Lia, imagining these ruins, this Regio Urbanissima, as a once bustling metropolis seemed an impossible ask. She remembers, suddenly, the scorched settlements and strongholds that fell to Nidhogg’s loyal brood, the crumbling outer walls that protected Ishgard for generations. Could this have been their fate, had the Scions and their enigmatic Warrior of Light not intervened? 

One has to wonder. 

Lia shakes her head, evicting these thoughts from her mind. They serve no one now, and she had felt her mood begin to sink even lower under their weight. She sighs out a breath, waits for the cloud in front of her nose to dissipate, and reaches for the curved snout of her visor. It yields easily when she applies the exact amount of pressure, clicking firmly into place to shield most of her fair features. Other mechanisms in her helmet grind softly as the visor is lowered, bringing the toothy jaw up so that it hugs her own jawline firmly. 

Ishgardian ingenuity. 

In her mind, she sees the map of the area directly beneath her high perch, one she had spent well over an hour studying ever ilm of on parchment before departing on her solo assignment of scouting the region. Though not gifted with wings to fly, her high jumps fueled by training and her soul stone allowed her to find alternate route and vantage spots, making her more difficult for the hostile wildlife and machines to detect much less chase. Now, as she’s knelt atop this fallen structure – once a skyscraper – her keen eyes search through the falling snow for signs of life. Only fifteen of the thirty soldiers had been found, most very much dead already. So where had the others vanished off to? Could they have been spirited away by wandering voidsent? While the Lady Dragoon had not personally witnessed any such monstrosities roaming the region since her arrival, she knew better than to cast aside the possibility. And what of those “blasphemies” that had supposedly been dealt with by the Scions?

Fury, this star seemed to find new ways of testing her children at every turn.

Whatever happened to Ser Alvinne’s convoy, Lia knew in the pit of her stomach they must have succumbed to something unnatural. She had read the coroners’ combined reports, and the survivors summoned forth vivid memories of enthralled heretics serving the will of dragons. An otherworldly shriek. Fear that dug into their bones. But this wasn’t the work of dragons. Her blood did not sense any. 

If voidsent were responsible for this, could that mean the Strange Knight might be near? Halone’s mercy, he better not be dead. Her betters at House Dzemael would not like that. Neither would she.

Well, nowhere left to go but down. Tightening her grip around her Fangs, she propels herself from her perch and begins her rapid descent into the depths below. As her armored form passed through the opening in the asphalt and snow, she felt the world swallowing her whole. Her landing was both heavy and graceful, placing her in a low crouch at the center of this beam of light that shone through the wound above. She lifts her eyes skyward to look at the entrance. Only sixty, maybe seventy yalms above her. She can escape with ease, if a hasty retreat was needed. Then, the Lady Dragoon takes stock of her surroundings, waiting for her eyes to acclimate to the dark.

She hears stone scraping behind her and turns, rising to her feet in that same motion. Something is here with her. She senses it.

A horrifying scream suddenly rings from the unseen. Lia hears herself crying out, answering against her will. The sound threatens to split her brain in half, spiraling down into every nerve in her body and wrapping around her bones so tightly she thinks they might snap.

The shrieking doesn’t stop, and the pain it inflicts is too excruciating for her to silence herself. Gods, she thinks her blood is starting to boil. Her fingers feel hot inside the metal talons protecting them, and all at once, the darkness around her goes quiet. She knows that unholy sound hasn’t relented, but now, her ears are consumed by the beating of her heart and the low growl that seems to rise from inside her chest.

I know you.

She’s fallen to one knee now, pushed against the concrete by the threat she cannot see. A trembling hand reaches for her throat, where a deep blue crystal begins to glow, burning hot despite the cool light it emits. The growling grows louder in her thoughts; and then, a dragon lets out its roar, and the Lady Dragoon feels her mind blank with its rage. 

You know us.

I know you.

You will not join us this day.

I cannot fight it.

Fight it. Burn away the heresy.

The leathers in her gauntlets groan with the tightening of her grip. Gasping the stale air of the underground, she heaves herself to her feet once more, pushing against the crushing weight of enthrallment fighting to steal her consciousness. Her dark eyes lift heavensward, gazing into the light through the narrow slits in her helmet. 

Leap.

Even without wings, she flies. And the cold light welcomes her return. 

[yugiohcardsdaily]

Posted Cards Master List - 43.0

January 2023, 1st thru 20th

Amazoness Golden Whip Master

Amazoness Pet Liger King

Amazoness Secret Arts

Amazoness Silver Sword Master

Amazoness Spiritualist

Amazoness War Chief

Arionpos, Serpent of the Ghoti

Baku the Beast Ninja

Bayerock Dragon

Black Feather Whirlwind

Black Shadow Squall

Blackwing - Boreastorm the Wicked Wind

Blackwing - Chinook the Snow Blast

Blackwing - Shamal the Sandstorm

Blackwing - Sudri the Phantom Glimmer

Blackwing - Twin Shadow

Blackwing - Vata the Emblem of Wandering

Blackwing - Zonda the Dusk

Black-Winged Assault Dragon

Blazing Cartesia, the Virtuous

Branded Beast

Branded Regained

Bystial Druiswurm

Bystial Magnamhut

Bystial Saronir

Celestial Apparatus Tesea

Cucumber Horse

Curse of Aramatir

Decisive Battle of Golgonda

Destructive Daruma Karma Cannon

Dinomight Powerload, the Dracoslayer

Donner, Dagger Fur Hire

Dragonic Pendulum

Freki the Runick Fangs

Ghoti Cosmos

Ghoti Fury

Guoglim, Spear of the Ghoti

Han-Shi Kyudo Spirit

Ignis Phoenix, the Dracoslayer

Infernalqueen Salmon

Ixeep, Omen of the Ghoti

Kagero the Cannon Ninja

Kashtira Birth

Kashtira Fenrir

Kashtira Ogre

Kashtira Preparations

Kashtira Shangri-Ira

Kashtira Unicorn

Lady Labrynth of the Silver Castle

Laughing Puffin

Majesty Pegasus, the Dracoslayer

Meizen the Battle Ninja

Mereologic Aggregator

Muckraker From the Underworld

Naturia Blessing

Naturia Camellia

Naturia Mole Cricket

Ninjistu Art Notebook of Mystery

Ninjitsu Art of Dancing Leaves

Ninjistu Art Tool - Iron Digger

Original Bamboo Sword

Prediction Princess Bibliomuse

Prediction Princess Tarotreith

Psychic Rover

Rex, Freight Fur Hire

Scareclaw Decline

Scareclaw Twinsaw

Shamisen Samsara Sorrowcat

Silent Wolf Calupo

Simul Archfiends

Snopios, Shade of the Ghoti

Soul Scissors

Spellbound

Spright Double Cross

Spright Sprind

Stars Align across the Milky Way

Tearlaments Grief

Tearlaments Heartbeat

Tearlaments Rulkallos

Tearlaments Scream

Terrors in the Hidden City

The Bystial Alba Los

The Bystial Lubellion

The Great Noodle Inversion

Tilting Entrainment

Tobari the Sky Ninja

Tri-Brigade Showdown

Turbo-Tainted Hot Rod GT19

Underworld Ritual of Prediction

Vaylantz Wakening - Solo Activation

Vera the Vernusylph Goddess

Vernusylph in Full Bloom

Vernusylph of the Misting Seedlings

Wollow, Founder of the Drudge Dragons

Worldsea Dragon Zealantis

Yorishiro of the Aqua

Zalamander Catalyzer

Zep, Ruby of the Ghoti

Agido the Ancient Sentinel

Aileron

[greensparty]

Stuff I'm Looking Forward To in May

How is it already May? In addition to being Asian Pacific American Heritage Month as well as Orthodox Easter (5/5), Cinco de Mayo (5/5), Mother's Day (5/12) and Memorial Day (5/27) here is what's on my radar this month:

Movies:

The Idea of You

A Michael Showalter movie is always a highly anticipated for me. I was a huge fan of his comedy group The State and I named his film The Big Sick my #1 Movie of 2017. Since then his films have been mixed (including The Eyes of Tammy Faye) but they are always unique in their own way. His new one is a romantic drama with Anne Hathaway premiering on Amazon Prime Video on 5/2.

Star Wars Episode 1 The Phantom Menace

When the first Star Wars prequel was released in May 1999, there was no way any movie could live up to the expectation. While it's not perfect by any means, it is better than people initially thought. I saw it a few times in the theater in 1999 (including opening day) and in 2012, I saw the 3-D re-release. Without the hype and fanfare it wasn't bad. There's been quite a few revisionist appraisals of Ep 1 in recent years. In addition to select theaters doing a Star Wars Eps 1-9 marathon, Ep 1 is getting a 25th anniversary re-release on 5/3.

Unfrosted

Jerry Seinfeld is a comic genius! Now he's making his directorial feature film debut with a comedy biopic about the creation of the Pop Tart in 1963. With Jerry directing, co-writing, producing and starring I'm on board! Premieres 5/3 on Netflix.

Let It Be

The 1970 documentary about The Beatles recording their final album has been out of print for years and now it has been remastered by Peter Jackson for a Disney+ streaming premiere on 5/8. Fingers crossed a blu-ray follows!

Back to Black 

Amy Winehouse had such a short musical career, but her legacy lives on. After the excellent documentary Amy in 2015, she is now getting the music biopic treatment directed by Sam Taylor-Johnson, the director of the criminally underrated Nowhere Boy about the early days of John Lennon. Opens 5/17.

IF

John Krasinski proved himself as a director with A Quiet Place. Now he is back with a fantasy about imaginary friends and it's one of those "everyone is in it" casts! Opens 5/17.

Hit Man

A Richard Linklater film is always a high film priority for me! His new action-comedy has been creating quite a buzz since its festival premiere last year. It's adapted from an article by Skip Hollandsworth and the last adaptation of his from Linklater was Bernie! Star and co-writer Glen Powell has worked with Linklater on Everybody Wants Some!! and Apollo 10 1/2. I could not be more psyched! Limited theatrical release on 5/24 and Netflix premiere on 6/7.

Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga

2015's Mad Max: Fury Road, the 4th Mad Max movie, set the bar pretty high for high octane action. Now George Miller is back with a prequel about Furiosa. Opens 5/24.

Music:

Aerosmith Get Your Wings 50th Anniversary Limited Edition

In March, Aerosmith's second album turned 50! To celebrate the anniversary they are releasing a special edition vinyl on 5/17!

Slash Orgy of the Damned

GN'R guitarist Slash is back with his sixth solo album featuring tons of guest stars including Brian Johnson and Steven Tyler doing blues covers. Album drops 5/17!

Ringo Starr Crooked Boy

Sir Ringo Starr has been on a roll knocking out tons of EPs including EP3 and Rewind Forward. Now he has his 5th EP since 2021 (my God - put all of these EPs together and it'd be a killer album!). This one was written and produced by Linda Perry. After an RSD and digital release last month, a physical release will be on 5/31 (review to come)!

Film Festivals:

Independent Film Festival Boston

My favorite film festival in Boston (and possibly the world) takes place at the best indie cinemas in Boston from May 1-8 (see my preview here).

In a category all its own:

My birthday is on 5/20! 

[doomedandstoned]

Ireland’s TEN TON SLUG Oozes with Filth and Fury on ‘Colossal Oppressor’

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

By Billy Goate

Artwork by Adam Burk/Nightjar Illustration

From the City of Tribes, comes TEN TON SLUG, a band that really does live up to its name for its massive attack and weighty sound. We featured the Galway four-piece some years back on our compilation Doomed & Stoned in Ireland and now, after teasing us with two EPs in 2016 and 2017, they are back with their debut full-length, 'Colossal Oppressor' (2024).

Ten Ton Slug's name reminds me of the iconic album cover of the Conan & Slomatics split back in 2012, which showed a warrior atop a slithering ogre. Of course, that was a snail not a slug, but if you've ever wondered what it would be like to encounter a mollusk of such proportions, look no further than the seven mighty tracks before us.

The record begins appropriately with "The Ooze," ushering us to a scene besieged by oppression and war. "They cast us to the fires, they push us towards the sea," growls frontman Rónán Ó hÁrrachtáin. "Subjugation is here!" Right off we get a feel for the kind of energy the band brings to the stage, with unrelenting rhythms from Pavol Rosa (bass) and Kelvin Doran (drums). Rónán fires off fierce, sludgey vocals, with backing vox and killer groove metal riffs from Sean Sullivan. The tone and tenor is not surprising from guys who've been in such acts as Weed Priest and Soothsayer.

"Balor" is next, and gives a play-by-play of those in the throes of a wild horde. In Celtic mythology, Balor was chief of the Fomoire, a crazed race of demons who threatened the Irish with extinction during the chaotic second battle of Mag Tuired. "Jump to deny these false gods, rip them out!" Rónán urges his people, echoing the war cries of past generations. "Banish them all from their dystopian thrones!" The sentiment of the song is certainly relatable to anyone living under the hand of hapless leadership or the whims of dictators. Riffs seem to characterize the fluttering of demonic wings and vocals are dripping with caustic ire.

"Ancient Ways" dons a racing heartbeat in explosive drumming from Kelvin Doran, then the mood becomes dark and doomy as the band warns of gathering storms. "Plant your feet, take a brace, hold your ground!" adjures Rónán, "Ancient ways prevail, gaining strength to kill." Meanwhile, Sean Sullivan delivers ominous tech-death style riffage (as you'll hear later on the single "Mindless and Blind"), then belts out a piercing classic metal solo. Pavol Rosa's basswork is almost jazzy.

Dissonance rules the day in "Brutus" and brutal it is, featuring a collaboration from none other than Karl Willetts of Bolt Thrower fame (currently heading up Memoriam). His approach is low toned and raspy, almost as if he is breathing fire. All three vocalists play off each other with intimidating effect.

Another highlight of the record for sure is "Mallacht an tSloda," a song entirely in the Irish language. Ten Ton Slug explain it "captures the fury and wrath of the wretched oppressed who curse and revile their oppressor using the finest of Gaelic curses and ill-sentiments (to which the characteristic sound of the Irish language lends itself so well)." Fans of Tasmania's Psycroptic will find much to admire here, and the singing in the final minutes is the deadliest we've heard thus far.

The record finishes on "Mogore the Unkind", the longest track at nine-and-a-half minutes. It contains lines of ancient Hittite, a mysterious kingdom only uncovered archaeologically in 1834 but memorialized in Egyptian writings and reliefs. The Hittites were famous for their chariots of war, these "dark warlords of Hattusha." The song is about blood, sand, betrayal, and burning cities. A fitting end to this damning tour de force.

One more thing you should know, Ten Ton Slug tells us:

The last notes on the album were played by the remnants of a prehistoric lumbering beast that lived some 20,000 years ago...using a plec made from the tusk of a Siberian Mammoth, paying homage to the colossal beasts of the past.

This monster slithers out on vinyl, compact disc, and digital formats on Wednesday, May 1st (pre-order here).

And now get ready for a wild ride, as Doomed & Stoned gives you a first listen to Ten Ton Slug's Colossal Oppressor.

Give ear...

Colossal Oppressor by Ten Ton Slug

SOME BUZZ

Ten Ton Slug originated in the depths of Connemara in the west of Ireland in 2014 and plays a riff-filled mix of sludge and doom characterised by huge riffs and pummeling drums coupled with dynamic and charismatic heavy vocals.

The Slug has gained a stellar live reputation and a loyal and ever-expanding fanbase throughout Ireland, the UK and beyond, having shared stages with bands such as Black Label Society, Corrosion of Conformity, Memoriam, Crowbar, Conan, Jinjer, Bongzilla and more.

Self-organised tours across the UK, Ireland and brief runs into Europe as both support and headliner alongside appearances at notable festivals including Bloodstock Open Air and Metaldays have helped spread the slime far and wide; continuing this year with the band’s upcoming slot at Maryland Doom Fest and run of shows in the USA in mid 2024.

Two studio releases (‘Brutal Gluttonous Beast’ and ‘Blood and Slime’), one live EP (’Live at the Siege of Limerick’) and a single (‘Hunting Ground’) have all garnered excellent reviews to date, and May 2024 sees release of the long awaited and eagerly anticipated debut album Colossal Oppressor, featuring guest vocals by Karl Willetts of Memoriam/Bolt Thrower on the track "Brutus."

‘Colossal Oppressor’ is a slab of triple distilled slime that constitutes the culmination of over five years of work and dedication. It features all the elements from previous Ten Ton Slug releases such as powerful riffs and huge drums with Ronan’s characteristic vocals layered on top, yet develops them further and expands on them by incorporating more dynamic bass, developed songwriting and a wider variety of different grooves, atmosphere and melodic feels resulting in an album the Slug will be proud to enslave humanity to.

With cover art by Adam Burke of Nightjar illustration and guest vocals by Karl Willetts on the track "Brutus," ‘Colossal Oppressor’ melds doom, sludge, and metal elements to create 40+ minutes of prime riffage. The album expands upon the previous sound of the Slug incorporating new languages and elements including acoustic guitar intros, interludes, leadwork and more of a dual vocal approach.

TEN TON SLUG ON TOUR

Ireland

May 3rd - Limerick (tix)

May 5th - Dublin (tix)

North America

June 19th - Cambridge, Massachusetts @The Middle East (upstairs)

June 20th - New York (TBA)

June 21st - Frederick, Maryland @Maryland Doom Fest

Follow The Band

Get Their Music