#something about his sound is just incredible every time. and so recognizable!

[cuntylestat]

currently obsessed with dev hynes/blood orange and songs he's produced ❤️

[kiralena]

Theory: Crowley's snake form was a GIFT from God, not a punishment

GIF von capinejghafa

We all thought Crowley's snake form was part of his punishment for asking questions.

But: what if it wasn't meant as a punishment?

Imagine: the angels are angry about Crowley asking questions. God is pleased: Crowley is appreciating the creations. He is curious, intelligent, brave, has a pure heart, he cares more about truth than following rules. He truly cares and values the creations, because he is asking questions and thinking about it. The other angels are all kind of: 'oh, yes, God made it, so it has, needless to say, to be beautiful. No questions necessary, because we trust in God's great plan.' They don't waste a single thought to think about why the creations are beautiful.

If you create something, you LOVE it when people poin out why they love your creation. You get excited every time someone notices a hidden detail. Conclusion: God must be so incredibly bored with the angels just praising him without truly recognizing what is praisable.

And then there comes Crowley, our Starmaker, with his joy, excitement and actually being aware of why the universe is beautiful. God must have felt like an artist getting a compliment for a hidden detail.

Pushing Crowley to hell wasn't God's decision, it was the angels - removing someone from the office who doesn't cheer to the rules. All the heavenly buerocrats don't like questions, because they profit from the system and don't want changes. They are very comfy with just cheering to everything God does. Have trust in his plans, always. The heavenly buerocrats don't want Crowley to ask questions, because he is indirectly pointing out none of them cares about anything else than themselfs. (Like in the Job minisode when none of the angels was aware of the value of a human life and the love between humans) Crowley always put himself at risk for helping others, he is a guardian, even as a demon.

So when God saw what the angels did, he decided to make a gift to Crowley, which will always remind him about the fact that God loves his thoughts and questions. God gave Crowley his snake form, and made him give knowledge to the humans. God knew Crowley loves knowledge, so what could be a greater gift than being able to share knowledge? And since God has an weird ineffable sense of humor, nobody will recognize the gift as such, and Crowley's snake form is a disguise to sneak an intelligent, caring, pure hearted guardian into hell's bee hive.

What if God gave Crowley the snake eyes as a symbol of Crowley seeing things differetly? It is God's weird ineffable way to tell Crowley: 'I appreciate your ability and will to look behind the things, question the reasons and to truly care about my creations.'

But because of heaven's buerocracy God had to disguise his gift as a punishment, so the buerocrats won't recognize it. Like, telling hell: 'hey, wouldn't it be fun to see him crawl? You know....some kind of snake? Won't it?' And hell: 'oh yes, sounds like fun. For us, not for Crowley of course. Let's do that.'

God has a weird ineffable sense of humor. Giving someone a gift which isn't recognizeable as a gift would fit perfectly in ineffable humor.

Conclusion: God gifted Crowley the snake form and the ability to bring knowledge to the humans. He is a guardian disguised as demon in hell's bee hive. God knew Crowley would care about humanity, appreciating their curiosity and hunger for knowledge. For someone who cherishes knowledge and the ability to ask questions - wouldn't it be utter joy to share knowledge?

Crowley becoming the serpent of eden was God's GIFT to Crowley, and his snake eyes are a daily reminder for his love of knowledge and care for others.

God knows it is a burden, but he is well aware about Crowley's strength. He knows Crowley is strong enough. And he loves Crowley for all the things, heaven and hell hate about him: his curiosity, his pure heart, his questions, his kindness. (the same things, Aziraphale loves about him, amongst many other things)

[mildlyfunctional]

Every now and again, I've got to post more on Queen. Despite the fact I left the fandom years ago now, so much stuff still swirls around my brain—that's what Tumblr is for I suppose.

This swirl of things, however, is a topic I've always wanted to expand upon more somehow, but brushed aside because it felt too much like the influence of personal bias, or I had too much lack of personal connection—and surely if this were actually true, someone will have written on it.

The feeling I have is: there's a lot of queerphobia in how the life and legacy of Freddie Mercury is articulated, and that ultimately the main reason that the members of Queen (and affiliated people) have acknowledged Freddie Mercury as LGBTQ+ is because of his death from AIDS-related complications.

When I was coming into my own queerness, I remember being really struck by how much I'd find connection in some aspect of Freddie's queerness, and then I'd be reading a biography or watching an interview and see how it was perceived by others as strange, suspect, bad, or as ultimately a cause of death—looking at you every Queen documentary that goes "and then Freddie found the gay community, ultimately his cause of death".

I think about things like how Hot Space (1982) is perceived because of being Queen's step into disco and the "gay club sound". I love Hot Space, so I'm a little bit biased, but I do wonder why the blame for this weaker album is always based on it's genre rather than on the cohesiveness of the band during that time. That's really suspect to me, especially on an album with hits like Under Pressure—one of the most recognizable songs, and baselines, of the last 40 years.

Generally, I think it's also so strange to be a queer person and see Freddie Mercury—an incredibly queer person—rarely be acknowledged as that. Freddie Mercury played with gender, performance, sexuality, morality, and the boundaries of respectability constantly and that's only ever discussed as "just who Freddie was"—not also as a presentation with context and relatability to a wider community.

I used to think that perhaps all these feelings were just in my head, something I was feeling just to feel worse about my own queerness at a time when I couldn't be out. But over the years, I've only continued to gain more context for these feelings, and thus, they've only continued to grow. The unfortunate thing about any person who's passed, is that they've finished speaking for themselves. There's never going to be a right way of talking about Freddie's identity and self-representation. I just wish his queerness was more often acknowledged, not just his sexuality and death.

[nininikki]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐘: e. jaeger x black fem!reader

(ꕥ) summary! — love had never made you feel this shitty before. (part two can be read here.)

(ꕥ) warnings! — toxic relationships, lots of angst, implications of sex, alcohol consumption, vomiting, reader & eren are in college, (doesn’t play a huge role, but it’s implied) eren is very toxic, reader is also very stuck, i love mikasa, but she’s not very great here haha 😅 (don’t kill me pls)

(ꕥ) author’s note! — first thing i’m publishing on here, lol. wrote it in two days, which i’m sure you can tell. whatever. don’t think too hard. just vibe ok. lmk if i missed anything in the warnings!!

(ꕥ) word count! — 2.7k

love wasn’t exactly the word. at least, it couldn’t have been, right? surely something as pure and innocent and good as love couldn’t have led to an outcome like this.

it couldn’t have led to you taking him back time and time again, doling out infinite chances, and losing a bit of your dignity every time you did.

it wasn’t even supposed to be like this. hell, the two of you weren’t even dating. despite what he’d made you think. what, with the surprise dates, expensive bouquet deliveries, and his ironclad adamance that you didn’t do anything like that with anyone else.

that last part in particular was your selling point. you could vividly recount the times he’d talked you out of going on various dates for reasons you had been stupid enough to believe. maybe you were an idiot for allowing yourself to entertain it, but you’d try not to drive yourself insane dwelling on that possibility.

as you sat at the edge of eren’s bed, naked as the day you were born and fighting back the sobs threatening to rack your body, you couldn’t help but wonder how you’d got caught up in all this shit.

***

you first caught eren’s eye when he attempted to flirt with you outside of a bar one night, to which you tipsily drawled, “do i know you?” and then, as if that weren’t embarrassing enough, you followed it up with, “oh, you’re that douchebag football player!”

even through your inebriation, eren’s face was ultra-recognizable, as it would be to anyone who went to your school and also happened to have eyes.

gemstone colored eyes, skin covered in a delicious tan, long hair curtaining the sculpture that was his head, eren jaeger had an incredibly difficult face to forget about.

being the quarterback of your school’s football team and most sought after man on campus, (or perhaps in the state) it’d be more surprising if he wasn’t a douche.

so, what? not like you’re looking for anything serious, anyway. it could just be a casual thing. at that, the yes bells in your head rang loud, the sound growing more ferocious as you trailed your eyes down the expanse of his body.

for a few moments, you could see why he had so many people drooling like rabid dogs without any effort. he was fucking gorgeous. you took in a breath of fresh air, trying to sober your body and your mind. breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe.

one of your girlfriends had linked your arms together and murmured something like, “i’m sorry about her, she’s wasted.”

“i am perfectly sober.” you groaned, which wasn’t exactly true, but you were closer to sober than wasted.

he chuckled heartily, and you had to stop yourself from getting dizzy in the turquoise oasis of his eyes. or maybe you were a little drunker than you’d thought. whatever.

after a little while, you’d convinced your friends you were okay enough to give him your number, and when you did, a satisfied smile stretched across his face. “i’ll call you.”

“yeah, okay.” you said dryly, despite the fabric of your underwear feeling completely opposite.

***

a day later, and much to your sober surprise, eren had called you, introducing himself as, “that douchebag football player.” you let your face fall into your palm at the blurry memory, trying not to keel over in humiliation before he could even ask you out.

luckily, you remained steady long enough for him to invite you over to smoke later. looking back now, you wanted to slap yourself silly for even considering, and then slap her even harder for saying yes.

***

your bi-weekly smoke sessions turned weekly, and then almost daily. but by then, he wasn’t even coming over to smoke anymore. “i don’t wanna get high with you all the time. what if i just wanna enjoy you while we’re sober?” eren had claimed as the two of you lay intertwined on his couch. you could remember the distinct feeling of your heart melting out of your chest and pooling around your feet.

then, he was coming over to your dorm with takeout bags shelved along his arms. and then texting you at random, telling you to be ready at a certain time, because he was taking you out to dinner.

and you certainly couldn’t forget the night all the pent up sexual tension and feral attraction shared between the two of you came to a screeching head. you both were high off your asses, and one thing had led to a-motherfucking-nother. next thing you knew, your back was pushed into a pretty arch as he drilled into that special spot inside of you. drool pooling at the corners of your lips, cheeks glossed over with tears, throat red and raw from the guttural moans pouring out of it.

four rounds later, when your limbs were jelly and you’d been rendered too tired to do much more, eren pulled you into his lap and played with your hair until you fell asleep. it was in that moment that you knew you were falling head over heels for him. although, he hadn’t given you much of a choice, had he?

***

then, it happened. you should’ve known something was up when he said he was headed to a party later that night, but didn’t invite you, which was something he’d always done. “you don’t really know anybody that’s gon’ be there. and i’m only goin’ for a little bit. no point in even bringing you with me.”

you simply nodded in agreement, him having thoroughly convinced you. and it wasn’t like you had any reason to think he was lying. eren never lied to you.

or at least that’s what you’d thought.

not twenty minutes after eren left, your phone had pinged with a message from one of your girlfriends.

party tonight & yes tf u are going. i’ll be outside in 10!!

you’d arrived at the party, shocked to see that there wasn’t an unfamiliar face in the throngs of people you shuffled through. bile had risen in your throat, but you chased it down with whatever was in the solo cup your friend handed you.

for a moment, you were having fun. your limbs falling into a relaxed, dancing rhythm, loud music coursing through your veins as though it were the alcohol you drank.

“oh, shit.” you heard your friend say from beside you, and the terror in her voice was enough to get you to pay attention.

anxiously, you followed the line of her gaze to a semi-vacant spot across the room. a spot where eren had another girl perched upon his lap, blowing smoke into her mouth before he attacked her already kiss-bitten lips with his.

you wanted so desperately to press your eyes shut, but the sight before you would surely live behind your eyelids for the rest of your life. so really, what was the point?

they broke away from the kiss, and you could’ve swore you tasted vomit at the sight of a thin string of saliva connecting their lips. after what felt like hours, eren’s eyes met with yours from across the room. before he could get the chance to even register you as some sort of hallucination, you bolted.

***

as soon as you’d locked the door behind you, you collapsed on your dorm floor. clothes and hair wet and chilled from the rain pouring outside, you’d nearly bit off your own tongue with all the shivers that racked you.

the sobs taking over your body were breathtaking, literally. you’d caught yourself trying to catch your breath through the tears more than a few times. at a certain point, they’d gotten so loud that you had to shove your face into a pillow to muffle the sounds.

an hour or so later, you’d decided to check your phone, only to instantly regret it once you saw the flurry of messages and calls from eren.

with each message you read, his vice grip on your heart only grew firmer. baby wya? we need to talk. if it weren’t for the ragged breaths running through your agape lips, you’d be sure you had already died of some type of shock.

i don’t want u goin to sleep mad at me baby. you wished you could squeeze the phone into pulp like an empty soda can. but your hands were weak, heavy, numb, as though they had been filled with wet packing peanuts. idk what you saw but it’s not what it looks like.

tears blurred your vision as you continued reading. pleas of, will you at least call me? and (likely empty) promises of, it’s not what it looks like and i just need to explain myself. this, coupled with twenty missed calls from him, had barbed wire wrapping around your heart, squeezing and squeezing until you were sure you could feel it explode inside your chest.

bile rose in your throat again, but you didn’t have it in you to hold it back this time. instead, you ran for your bathroom and emptied the contents of your stomach into the toilet as another wave of sobs came over your body

when you were done, you hardly recognized the person staring back at you in the mirror. the brown skin around your eyes was puffy and damp, your face mask-tight with tears, your lips wobbling pathetically. you felt the urge to throw up again.

***

“i don’t even know why you’re upset.” eren had attempted to console you. “mikasa, she’s…” your skeleton nearly folded in on itself as he said her name with the same cadence he usually did yours. “she’s nothing. she’s not y—”

“you had your tongue in her mouth.” you interjected, and you didn’t need to say anything else. hell, you could hardly bring yourself to say that.

“hey,” he said, reaching over the middle console to grab you gently by the chin. the look in his eyes held nothing but sorrow, sorrow that toed the line of pity, and pity that toed the line of condescension. “stop thinking about it, okay? we can’t work past this if you keep dwelling on the shit.”

his touch put your entire body on edge, a stark contrast to the usual. you plucked his hand off you as you held back a sniffle. “well, what the fuck else am i supposed to do?” a rogue tear fell from your eye. “i’m…” your fingernails dug into the skin of your thighs. “i’m fucking hurt, eren.”

at his next sentence, you were overcome with the urge to scream until the lump dissolved from your throat. “it’s not like i cheated or anything.” you didn’t know what made it worse: the nonchalant attitude with which he said it, or the way he kissed his teeth before what he said next. “oh, c’mon. i thought you knew we were only fucking around.”

your masochism reared its ugly head as you asked, “what?” despite already hearing him loud and clear the first time.

“listen, y/n, i like you, b—”

“but not enough to…” make me your girlfriend. the words were there, but you physically couldn’t say them. “right.”

he didn’t answer, and really, he didn’t get a chance to. you were shoving his car door open and storming out of it.

for the next four days, he’d mailed surprise gifts to your dorm, all sent with enough various apologies and i miss you’s to make your tooth ache.

you’d forgiven him a week later.

***

and then another time, more recently, he’d given you an earful for making out with connie at some party. but how could he blame you? you were drunk and still hurting from all that happened before. and besides, it wasn’t like the two of you were dating or anything. at least, that’s what you had told him.

this led to a screaming match between the two of you as eren sped down the slick road. the veins in his neck threatening to break free from beneath his skin, knuckles growing paler and paler as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “what, you thought that shit was cute? connie’s one of my best friends, and you thought you could just kiss him in front of me?”

“i didn’t think i could, eren. i did. and if connie was really your best friend, he wouldn’t have let me.” you saw his eyes go fuzzy with white-hot fury, and could’ve laughed maniacally in satisfaction at the sight.

for a few brief, sick moments, you’d thought to yourself, good, you deserve this. but you squashed that feeling before it could turn into something worse. “you did the same thing to me, so just get over it.”

he came to a red light and took a moment to card his shaky hands through his hair. “it’s not the s—”

“not the same?” you scoffed in his direction, unbuckling your seatbelt and shoving his car door open. your dorm wasn’t too far away to walk. “yeah, whatever. just drop me off here.”

***

thus began the vicious cycle that you and him were all too familiar with. perfect, bad, worse, i’m sorry, perfect.

as of right now, you were in the middle of bad, which was awful considering you weren’t sure how things could get worse from here.

still naked from a round or two (or three) of earth-shattering sex, you’d heard eren’s phone ping with a message. figuring your orgasm-fried mush for a brain was playing tricks on you, you ignored it. until it pinged again. and again. and again.

eren usually slept like the dead, and you knew his password. what would be the harm in looking? you’d fought with yourself on it for a good five minutes before deciding.

you stretched your arm out over his slumbering body and plucked the thing off his nightstand. he twitched slightly, and terror struck your heart for a brief moment, but he’d only turned over on his stomach and wrapped his arms around your pliant waist.

warmth chased the terror away, and you considered not even checking the damn thing. until it pinged again.

you extended your arm out above your head, the safest way to hold it that wouldn’t risk disturbing him, even if you risked dropping it onto your face.

after unlocking it, your eyes had to trail over the notifications three or four times to be sure you hadn’t hallucinated. five messages from mikasa. that alone had your heart running in circles, but the actual messages proved to be undeniably worse.

r u done w her yet? i miss you. can you come over? or i can come over there? just call me when u can.

suddenly, eren’s arms began to grow tighter and tighter. squeezing you until your ribs cracked under the pressure, until your lungs collapsed from lack of airflow. or maybe that’s just how you had felt.

much to your ever growing horror, they had been texting for weeks. late night talks, plans of meeting up, exchanges of photos you’d much prefer to forget you saw. you name it, it was there.

silently, you put the phone back on the nightstand and tried to get yourself to fall asleep.

***

you hadn’t slept a wink, and now here you were: slugging your clothes over your body as the sun began peeking over the horizon. eren was still asleep, and you had managed to peel yourself out from under him just enough to make your leave.

your leave.

the words, the concept even, left a bittersweet taste simmering on your tongue. you were gonna leave him alone, and for good this time. because you were amazing and special and deserved ten times better than him, or that’s what you spent the majority of your sleepless night trying to convince yourself of.

your eyes, swollen and red, were begging to flutter shut, but you just… couldn’t. because you knew what vision would be sitting behind your eyelids the moment you did, and that prospect terrified you enough.

when you left his room, you didn’t dare look back at his sleeping form. not because you didn’t want to, but because you just couldn’t. couldn’t because of how weak he had made you; so weak that he didn’t even have to be awake to convince you to come back to him.

you stepped through his front door as though it were a portal to another world. another freer, happier, healthier world. the nippy morning air provided a temporary solace to your shaken figure. you took a deep gust in, hoping to give yourself a brief illusion of stability. breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe.

© NININIKKI. do not translate, copy, or modify my works in any way shape or form.

[jaimiegoodfans]

Ready for another Rapunzel adventure? As I adjusted my blonde hair, tied into an elegant updo, I found myself transported to the bustling village of Corona. There, I bumped into Eugene, his casual smirk instantly recognizable. Hey there, Blondie, he greeted, clearly enjoying the sight of my Rapunzel cosplay. Taking a break from the whole tower scene today? You know it, Eugene, I replied with a laugh. But I could use a bit more excitement than just blending into the crowd. How about a little mission? he suggested, a spark of mischief in his eyes. Rumor has it, Mother Gothel’s got something hidden in the old forest. We could sneak out, just like old times. I couldn’t help but grin. Sounds perfect. Besides, this Rapunzel cosplayer’s hair could use a bit of a workout. We made our way to the dense woods, the sunlight filtering through the canopy creating intricate patterns on the forest floor. As we delved deeper, the air grew cooler and the trees denser. Are you sure we’re going the right way? I asked, glancing around at the unfamiliar surroundings. Trust me, Eugene replied confidently. And just as he finished speaking, we stumbled upon a hidden clearing with an overgrown stone monument. Carved into its surface were ancient symbols, hinting at secrets long forgotten. Whoa, I breathed, tracing the carvings with my fingers. This is incredible. Eugene stood beside me, equally captivated by the discovery. See, I knew this would be worth it. Not every Rapunzel cosplayer gets to live the adventure for real. As we explored further, the evening sun began to set, casting long shadows across the forest. I realized that these moments of unexpected adventure, surrounded by the familiarity of my favorite characters, were what made cosplaying as Rapunzel so special. We should head back, I said reluctantly, feeling a sense of fulfillment. But my next cosplay adventure is going to be even better, I promise. You always keep it exciting, Princess, Eugene replied with a smile as we made our way back to the village, another chapter of Rapunzel’s story completed. Until the next adventure, this Rapunzel cosplayer will be dreaming of the forests and hidden secrets of Corona, ready for whatever comes next. Thank you for joining me on this journey.

[empthy1]

(have to talk about this somewhere. so. here. not proofread. just straight rambling)

On the surface, the concert was simple: a poet, four musicians, and three dancers. It was more complex, evidently, as an end product- sound production added, camera-work perfected and lights an amazing show by themselves. Somehow, though, I believe the show would have had the same impact had it been just that- a poet with a microphone, a band, and three dancers.

Childish Gambino- or Donald Glover, to others- put on a show like I'd never experienced. The lighting was phenomenal, with bright colors and creative patterns. The sound may have been even better. He was never overshadowed by the band, and even surrounded by people singing, in the nosebleeds of the nosebleeds, you could still pick his voice out easily.

He is, in my opinion, one of the greatest performers we have today. Even though I've been to the concerts of many greats- My Chemical Romance, Weezer, and The Cure to name a few- he was the one who most engaged me. His crowd work was incredible. He pulled the audience in with no trouble, and had everyone in that stadium hooked before he even got on stage. When the bright overheads started flickering, people were screaming- minutes before we even saw him. The simple act of someone welding on stage (which could have been him, or some genuine crew member) had people out of their seats and ready.

When he did come on stage, he did it unexpectedly. He wasn't occupying the enormous main stage, but the smaller one on the other end of the pit. When the overhead lights went out, his flared- bright red, spanning the entirety of the arena. It was sudden, and was perfect to pull people in.

I confess, I went in with subpar knowledge of his songs, especially compared to the girl next to me who knew every word of each that played. I knew his popular songs briefly, but not word for word. I left ensnared. His energy, unique voice, and confident creativity had me, after checking the time, saying 'there's only fifteen minutes of time with him left' instead of 'It'll be over in fifteen minutes'. There was no rush to get out, or wanting for it to end. He managed to captivate fans and ensnare their companions- partners, friends, and parents alike. It takes a special kind of performer to keep the attention of 22,000 people. It takes an even better one to keep them all on their feet- even people like me, scared of tumbling out of the narrow standing areas and down, down, down to the far away floor.

I believe that if Childish Gambino had just been up there, performing without all the fancy lights and extra sound work, he would have been able to keep my attention the same way. Even during the mellow intermission, when he told people to 'go get that beer', I didn't see many leave. It was a reprise, sure- but not something to go unnoticed. His voice, especially in the slow moments, really shown through. He has a unique, recognizable tone, and never failed to disappoint in his range and sheer power.

I don't mean to say the lighting was irrelevant or unneeded. Quite the opposite- I believe it showed his creativity further. Each song had lighting that matched it completely, from the pulsing, almost rave-like rainbows of one to the soft, muted, sweeping oranges of another. It communicated the energy of the song well, and transported you to whatever environment he saw fit- just by choosing color and strobe pattern, or how elaborate each one was.

All of this culminates into one thing I think was my main draw to him. His stage presence. All these elements- his amazing voice, beautiful lighting, talented band and dancers would all be moot if he didn't know how to work a crowd. And yes, he knew how to work the crowd. When he talked, however brief, he was personable. You could find his personality in the words he spoke, and he managed to drum up excitement for song after song. A repeated part he did was 'y'all aren't real fans if you don't know this song'. The challenge really served to rile up the audience before a note even played.

While people hung onto his every word, they also clung to his silences. Applause would ring with every pause, reactions from the audience never failing to make an appearance. If he turned the microphone away during a song, the crowd would pick up the vocal slack. It was like a well-oiled machine- people filling the silences he purposely left. That is what makes him such a good artist. Not his constant hits, or his voice, or how he set up his concert. It was his crowd work that drew me in, how he effortlessly directed every thing that really proved he knew what he was doing. He was powerful, not only in his voice and his unique movements- but his confidence. He was unwavering. It was amazing watching it. It was the best concert I'd ever been to. It was a wonderful first- and last- time seeing him. I'm just glad I got to experience how great he is live before he retired.

[rabbitechoes]

there were some really stellar albums this month, but also some ones that broke my brain. the Beth Gibbons album could end up being my album of the year though, such a beautiful record. all in all, a pretty decent month for new albums and stuff!!! also, rest in peace Steve Albini!!! to check out my thoughts on some of the songs that dropped this month click here!!! also feel free to follow me on rate your music and twitter <3

Lives Outgrown - Beth Gibbons

🥇 BEST ALBUM OF THE MONTH

◇ released: May 17, 2024 ◇ genre: chamber folk

It’s been over ten years since we’ve gotten a new full-length project featuring Beth Gibbons. The vocalist of Portishead has been relatively quiet over the last decade or so, occasionally popping up as a feature here and there. Most notably on Kendrick Lamar’s Mr. Morale & the Big Steppers where she provided a great vocal performance on the track “Mother I Sober.” Anticipation for a new Portishead album, or even a Gibbons solo work, has never not been high, but that feature sort of reignited things. Two years later, she finally announced Lives Outgrown and it immediately became one of my most anticipated records of the year. This is her debut solo album, but she comes into it with a wealth of experience. She’s been one of the most singular vocalists for decades now, her crooning is immediately recognizable as hers and hers alone. 

This also marks a departure from a lot of the trip hop, electronic, and rock stylings of Portishead, exchanged in favor of a warm chamber folk sound with other elements masterfully implemented into the mix. It provides the perfect backdrop to Gibbons’ musings on life, grief, change, and the passing of time. She’s been writing this record for over a decade and, if you weren’t aware, a lot can happen in a decade. Her writing here is beautiful, as are her vocals of course. She captures so many of those complex feelings perfectly. She doesn’t have all the answers, none of us do, but she’s using the music as a means of finding something. It’s a bit of a lofty comparison, but it reminds me of Karma by Pharoah Sanders in a way. Of course, they’re very different in sound and style, but they’re both about using music to search for something deeper. Something that may or may not be able to be found, but they’re gonna try. They’re gonna take us along for that ride and I, for one, am very grateful. 

There’s not a single wasted second on Lives Outgrown. Every moment, even the quieter ones, is rewarding. These lush, largely acoustic arrangements suck you in, as does her often drawn-out vocal delivery. She emphasizes everything just right, in a way that makes you hang onto every word that comes next. A great example is on the lead single, “Floating on a Moment.” The way she adds a little extra flair to certain words is just mesmerizing. As is the chorus which is one of the most beautiful things I’ve heard all year. Gibbons belting out “All we have is here and now” is life-affirming. Former Talk Talk drummer Lee Harris provides percussion on a number of the songs here and his contributions are so valuable. His drumming has this weighty weightlessness to it. It’s so present, but it’s also light. Not abrasive in the slightest. The way it tracks under the acoustic guitar, the soft strings, and Gibbons’ vocals on the opener “Tell Me Who You Are Today” is amazing. They’re even more present on “Burden of Life,” they’re like thunder rumbling in the distance. That track is another one of her strongest lyrical moments. It’s nostalgic, almost eerily so. She ruminates on generational love presumably as both a mother and a daughter, she’s a very private person but her own description of the record cites motherhood as one of the main themes. It reads as if she’s grieving over the loss of someone in her family or perhaps her past self. She ends the song by singing “And the times never right / When you’re losing a soul.” Whether that be her own or not, it’s an incredibly moving piece. We’re all subject to the passing of time and we change no matter if we’re ready for it or not.

“Rewind” brings some new elements to the instrumentation. It mixes some subtle Krautrock elements which are such a nice touch. “Reaching Out” expands on that even further to an almost haunting degree. Her thin, floating vocals sound like they’re all around you. Not coming from one place in particular, but circling around you. It has Gibbons proclaiming that she needs someone’s love to “Silence all [her] shame.” It’s the most vulnerable she’s been across the whole project. The next track “Oceans” has her singing “I’ll dive into the ocean / On the floor I’ll gather my pride.” It’s like she’s trying to dust herself off. “Beyond the Sun” is the biggest left-turn here musically. It’s some of the wildest instrumentation on the record with the instrumental bridge having almost this blend of Western and Flamenco music that’s so wild, yet so amazing. Her vocal delivery on the outro makes it sound like she’s on a sinking ship. Despite the gratefulness always present in her voice, it’s very chaotic. This fades into the serene sounds of the outro “Whispering Love.” It has one of those arrangements that makes you feel like you’re walking outside on a Spring day with perfect weather, colorful birds flying overhead, and the grass is the perfect shade of green. Gibbons, likewise, sounds at peace. She sings “Oh, whispering love / Come to me, when you can.” She’s not demanding anything, she’s resigned. Finding some sort of peace or hope despite the ups and downs life throws at you.

Lives Outgrown is a gorgeous, rich record that I’m still picking apart after multiple listens. It’s one of Gibbons’ finest works across her career, ranking comfortably alongside the classics she made with Portishead. It’s one of the most beautiful and moving albums of the decade thus far. Everything is just so well-crafted and perfectly arranged. I’m just absolutely spellbound by this release. It exceeded all of my expectations and more. I can see myself loving this even more over the coming months or even the next few years. This is an album that sticks with you.

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Here in the Pitch - Jessica Pratt

◇ released: May 3, 2024 ◇ genres: singer-songwriter, folk, brill building, bossa nova

After a 5 year absence following 2019’s Quiet Signs, Jessica Pratt has returned with Here in the Pitch and it makes a strong case for being her best record yet. The elusive singer-songwriter has such a singular sound. No one, that I’m aware of, sounds like Pratt. Other artists might use similar sounds, wispy vocals and minimal instrumentation, but no one does it the way she does. She makes very dreamy folk music. The instrumentation is vivid and precise, but her vocals are simultaneously right next to you and in the other room. Her fingerpicking guitar is at the center of it all, she’s added different splashes of instrumentation over the years, but that remains the same. Here in the Pitch is the biggest departure from that sound thus far, but it still sounds so uniquely Pratt. 

Every arrangement here is so delicate. The lead single “Life Is” is a great example of that. It makes use of mellotrons, a bass guitar, drums, and even a glockenspiel. It doesn’t sound like something you would consider grand, but compared to Pratt’s previous work it most certainly is. She sounds like an ethereal lounge singer. Another big surprise on this record is how Pratt incorporates elements from bossa nova into her sound. It’s flowing all throughout the album. From the saxophone and percussion on “Better Hate,” to the guitar playing on “Get Your Head Out,” and pretty much everything about “By Hook or by Crook,” it’s clear Pratt took heavy inspiration from the genre. A lot of it is indebted to Mauro Refosco’s tasteful percussion work across the record. I expected the vocals on the album to be great, and they are, but I was even more impressed than I thought I would be. It helps that these songs have the strongest melodies of any of Pratt’s records, but the way she delivers them is just heavenly. It’s hard to predict where she’ll go, but she gently guides you along with her. 

The song that blew me away the most was “Empire Never Knows” which is by and large a piano ballad, but it’s probably the clearest we’ve ever heard Pratt. The melody here is just sublime and she uses a backmasking effect on some of the vocals in between some of the lines in the final verse which was a big surprise. It reminds me of something from Carrie & Lowell-era Sufjan. The instrumental outro of the song is another big highlight and displays another one of the album’s strengths. She isn’t afraid to let things breathe. Despite the album not being super long, every moment feels realized to its best conclusion. The album’s closer “The Last Year” shows this as well. It sounds the most like Pratt’s previous work, shifting focus back to Pratt and her guitar. The verses end with about a minute left to the song, the rest of the runtime is Pratt harmonizing alongside the guitar and piano. Just a lovely moment, one that you just get sucked into. Despite being a little over a minute long, it feels like a lifetime in the best way possible.

It’s interesting how two of my favorite albums of the year take heavy inspiration from 60s music but put a dreamy twist on it, this album and Cindy Lee’s Diamond Jubilee, but I’m certainly not complaining. Unlike Diamond Jubilee, Here in the Pitch is short, but sweet. It’s the biggest progression of Pratt’s sound yet and maybe the best she’s ever sounded. Everything just feels so natural, so comfortable. Excited to hear which direction she takes her sound next.

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Fearless Movement - Kamasi Washington

◇ released: May 3, 2024 ◇ genres: spiritual jazz, jazz fusion

Kamasi Washington has had this sort of dignified vibe to him since his sprawling triple album The Epic back in 2015. He could be the chillest guy on the face of the planet, but he just has the aura of a real “serious” musician. His music justifies it too. He’s on another level when it comes to modern jazz, one of the few newer artists in the genre who feels like a big deal. Fearless Movement is an apt title for the saxophonist’s fifth studio album. His incredible musicianship is still on display here, but greater emphasis is put on movement. These compositions feel so much more free-spirited. It’s not a massive multi-part experience like his previous two records, it’s just Washington making some damn good tracks. He describes the album, in a non-literal sense, as his “dance album” and that makes complete sense. There is a real groove to a lot of these tracks, everything feels so alive. This is also an incredibly collaborative effort. Guest musicians on the album include Parliament-Funkadelic bandleader George Clinton, Thundercat, and André 3000. They all play their parts very well, as does Washington, in making this an absolutely joyous listen.

This album is a great mix of old and new for Washington. If you’re looking for some killer spiritual jazz and jazz fusion, there is plenty here to satisfy. The opener “Lesanu” is one of the most intricate tracks in his catalog. It sounds so all-encompassing. “Dream State” has great flute contributions from André 3000. The way his flute and Washington’s saxophones pair alongside each other is just magical. “The Garden Path” was released as a single all the way back in 2022 and it still remains one of my favorite tracks of his. I loved it even more in the context of the album. The wildest moments on the album come when Washington mixes jazz with other genres like soul, rap, and funk. For your soul fix, Washington teams up with Patrice Quinn, DJ Battlecat, and Brandon Coleman for a cover of Zapp’s 1986 track “Computer Love.” I wasn’t aware of the Zapp track, I only know Kraftwerk’s song of the same name, but the version on this album rips. For rap, “Asha the First” features some cool verses from Taj and Ras Austin, but they’re very much outshined by Thundercat’s contributions on bass and the chorus. Thundercat’s delivery of the “Now my heart is freeeeee!” line in the chorus is just so cathartic. Funk fans will be the most pleased as this album is full of infectious grooves around every corner. It’s clear he was very inspired by funk rhythms and it comes through in these pieces. Most blatantly on “Get Lit” which features vocals from George Clinton and some rap verses from D Smoke. You can hear that Washington and crew had so much fun making these songs. It’s eclectic and a bold next step for him, but it’s all anchored by the superb musicianship on display here.

The album ends, ironically, with the song entitled “Prologue.” This was the lead single to the record, and it feels like a perfect start to this new chapter of his career and a perfect ending to the record as well. It’s a great indication of what this album is all about and what to look forward to from him in the future. Washington sounds unrestrained across this project which begets some of the brightest moments in his catalog thus far. He’s ready to explore new things with his sound and Fearless Movement is a wonderful jumping-off point. 

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Night Reign - Arooj Aftab

◇ released: May 31, 2024 ◇ genre: chamber folk, chamber jazz

Night Reign is one of those albums I could never imagine playing when it’s bright outside. It’s so nocturnal as if you’re sitting on the beach at night watching the waves slowly move in and out. It’s one of those records that’s perfect for pondering. It lulls you into this meditative state as Arooj Aftab’s smooth vocals guide you along. The instrumentation also pairs wonderfully. This blend of folk and jazz makes for a mesmerizing listen. Every arrangement here is just so gorgeous. Aftab isn’t afraid to let things breathe, and let things build up to a satisfying conclusion. Very rarely does that strategy not work as intended. Like on the instrumental bridge to the opener “Aey Nehin” as the soft-plucked harp notes falter behind the plodding guitar while the upright bass adds the exact amount of depth the song calls for. Night Reign is full of stunning moments like that.

Aftab sings and occasionally writes in both Urdu and English across the record. I tried my best at translating a lot of the Urdu lyrics on the record, to inconsistent levels of success, but from what I can gather these songs are all very bittersweet. She sings as if she’s holding on to every moment, knowing that everything is fleeting, and it makes for such a compelling listen. The instrumentation, like I mentioned earlier, does the same. Like the wading arrangement on the track “Whiskey.” As she sings about being ready to fall in love with someone, every movement musically is felt. It’s one of the songs where Aftab has sole songwriting credit and it shows how vivid of a lyricist she is. One of the more intense moments on the record comes with Aftab’s collaboration with Moor Mother on the track “Bolo Na.” The arrangement here has an edge to it that a lot of the other tracks don’t have, mainly due to the song’s bassline. Moor Mothers’ intense poetry strikes a chord here as it usually tends to do. It’s an interesting mix of styles that pays off wonderfully.

This was my first Arooj Aftab album and after hearing this, I need to go back and explore her previous work. I really can’t get enough of how this album sounds in every capacity. As someone who is a sucker for some upright bass, especially, this album is like heaven to me. I’m also absolutely spellbound by Aftab’s vocals here. I couldn’t imagine anyone else over these songs. Beautiful record, please give Night Reign your full attention on a dark night or a rainy day.

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HIT ME HARD AND SOFT - Billie Eilish

◇ released: May 17, 2024 ◇ genre: alt-pop

If you’ve been keeping up with my reviews, you would know that I haven’t been very ecstatic about the current state of pop music. Maybe I’m just growing more cynical than I thought, but no album this year from a major pop star has truly grabbed me – until now. Billie Eilish has been one of the few pop stars over the last few years that you can count on. She makes music that sounds and feels like a real person made it. I believe she believes in the songs she makes. That rings true more than ever on HIT ME HARD AND SOFT. This sounds like the natural evolution of her sound. Eilish and her brother FINNEAS strip things down a bit from her last few efforts. The quirkiness of her debut and the theatricality of Happier Than Ever are toned down considerably here. Traded in favor of more organic arrangements, with some electronic elements thrown in here and there, paired with incredibly strong songwriting. 

The opener, “SKINNY,” absolutely floored me on first listen. It features some of the finest melodies I’ve heard all year and that lush chorus is chill-inducing. That bridge leading into the instrumental outro is one of the highlights of her entire discography up to this point with those gorgeous string arrangements. Amazing opener to the record, although I was worried that brilliance wouldn’t carry over to the more upbeat tunes. “LUNCH” proved me wrong very fast. That fuzzy guitar provides the perfect edge to one of Eilish’s most lovestruck cuts. This could prove to be the biggest hit on the album too, it’s just so catchy. One of the key lyrical themes on the record is Eilish’s sexuality. A subject that has been under intense scrutiny, not just by creepy old dudes and your garden-variety bigots, but also by, hopefully, well-meaning queer allies who accused Eilish multiple times of “queerbaiting.” This record is Eilish controlling her own narrative. She touches on the risks and rewards of “[opening] up the door.” as she sings on “CHIHIRO.” Also on the jubilation of falling in love like on the aforementioned “LUNCH.” As she also does, with even more elation, on the chorus of “BIRDS OF A FEATHER.” Her writing and, just as importantly, how rich these songs sound are cathartic presumably not just for Eilish, but for the listener as well.

On my initial listen to the album, the latter half let me down just a bit. “WILDFLOWER” is a nice acoustic ballad, but I didn’t find it to be one of the strongest tracks here. I still don’t, but I do love the instrumentation on it. “THE GREATEST” is a folky track that can plod along a bit, but the payoff is absolutely worth it. The bridge is one of the most explosive moments on the record as she belts out her frustrations at this unrequited love. I absolutely adore “L’AMOUR DE MA VIE.” It has one of my favorite vocal performances of hers and it has some of the strongest hooks I’ve heard all year. Then, out of nowhere, the second part of the song kicks in and she dives straight into some crazy electropop. Never would’ve expected that, but it works so well. “THE DINER” is another track that has big hit potential, but in the context of the album it falls a bit short after the crazy heights of the previous track. It’s still a good cut though.

The album ends on an incredibly high note with the song “BLUE.” It’s a gorgeous track that ties together the lyrical themes of the record and brings them to a nice conclusion. HIT ME HARD AND SOFT is a great album. It provides new layers to Eilish’s songwriting and it offers some of the most substantial music from the pop-sphere this year. There’s a beating heart to these tracks which makes them so easy to latch onto. I’ll be surprised if another major pop release this year will be as good as this.

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You Won't Go Before You're Supposed To - Knocked Loose

◇ released: May 10, 2024 ◇ genre: metalcore

Not too long ago I listened to Knocked Loose’s A Tear in the Fabric of Life EP and loved it, which was pretty surprising. Metalcore isn’t my go-to genre and whenever I do love something I hear from it, it usually isn’t immediate. I just clicked with this band right away, so I was excited to dive into this new record. You Won’t Go Before You’re Supposed To is amazing. It’s a nonstop barrage of dissonant guitar riffs and scorched-Earth vocals. Every song just barges into the next with little time for a reprieve unless you physically pause the music. It’s uncompromising in the best way. “Thirst” and “Piece By Piece” kick off the album in explosive fashion. I love that heavy breakdown toward the end of the latter, it’s just one of those “oh, wow” moments. “Take Me Home” is a lot more atmospheric than the other cuts here, but it doesn’t break up the album’s flow. It also has one of the darkest, heaviest instrumental outros to any track here. The only thing close to a “breather,” is the intro to the closing track “Sit & Mourn.” Even still, there’s this uneasy tension surrounding it. You know, as the rest of this record has shown you, that something crazy is about to happen so when it all finally erupts it’s just so rewarding. The band displays excellent musicianship and songwriting ability across this album. They’re masters at building tension and making you feel uneasy, not in a way that makes you want to retreat, but in a way that pulls you in. I really enjoyed this album. Not only does it make me want to dive into more of Knocked Loose’s back catalog but also more of the metalcore genre in general. It’s such an album experience, I couldn’t imagine listening to these songs outside of it. If you’re in the market for a very cohesive and relentlessly loud record, You Won’t Go Before You’re Supposed To is for you.

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Anniversary - Adeem the Artist

◇ released: May 3, 2024 ◇ genres: alt-country, americana, singer-songwriter

I’ve been on the Adeem the Artist train since 2021’s Cast-Iron Pansexual. Bad cover art aside (the vinyl one is MUCH better), it was a refreshing, intimate country album that had something to say. As was the follow-up White Trash Revelry which had a greater focus on deconstructing and analyzing the American South’s and country music’s often disgusting short-comings throughout history. It’s not an abandonment of the ship though. They love the South and they love country music. If you love something, you want it to get better. Their music is an interesting balance of introspection, personal discovery, and razor-sharp analysis of their surroundings. Anniversary is no different and while the dive into more commercial country and Americana sounds keep some of these songs from reaching their full potential, their writing is still as strong as ever. 

Anniversary is largely about love and parenthood with those occasional detours into some biting political commentary. “Nancy” is one of their finest songs. It sounds so exciting and the scandalous nature of the lyrical content comes through in the music, it’s just so playfully promiscuous. Their lyrics often have this spontaneous wordiness that makes it hard to imagine them fitting into a satisfying melody, but they usually make it work very well. “Part & Parcel,” “Rotations,” and “Night Sweats” all touch on the themes of parenthood and they made me realize that this a point of view I rarely engage with. Not out of any conceited effort, just by coincidence I guess. It was refreshing and touching. “Rotations” is easily one of the sweetest songs in their catalog with very tasteful instrumentation and a chorus that even gets me a little teary-eyed. “Night Sweats” has Adeem giving their perspective as a parent witnessing the ongoing atrocities happening in Palestine. It’s one of their finest moments as a songwriter. It sounds so immediate like they knew they had to get this message out through the music. If you’re looking for more commentary tracks like that, “Nightmare” and “White Mule, Black Man” have you covered. The former tackles religious hypocrisy over some fiery Americana and the latter is a stripped-down, powerful indictment of Knoxville’s racist history, another one of their finest moments. “One Night Stand” is a bit more lighthearted and it sounds like the queer country radio hit I didn’t know I needed. It’s also a great example of how Adeem can write really catchy songs, that hook is incredible. It uses the more commercial sound to its benefit more than any other track here. “Socialite Blues” is the craziest moment on the album as Adeem swaggers and sways all over a honky tonk anthem about being in love. I want more crazy stuff like this from them.

The instrumentation across the album, as I said earlier, leaves a little to be desired. It’s all very tasteful and well done, but a lot of it veers a bit too heavily into some of the played-out tropes of the genre. Despite that, their writing is as sharp as ever, maybe even sharper. Anniversary is another exciting release from one of my favorite country artists going today. I’m always eager to hear what Adeem does next.

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Almighty So 2 - Chief Keef

◇ released: May 10, 2024 ◇ genres: chicago drill, hardcore hip hop

A little over ten years after the original, highly influential, mixtape and after a year of pushbacks and delays, Chief Keef has finally released Almighty So 2. I can’t claim to be a Sosa connoisseur, although I do love the original Almighty So tape, but his impact on hip hop is undeniable. His music at the turn of the 2010s defined the decade. It was a precursor to many of the trends that dominated the era. He was also very young like he was 17 when “Love Sosa” dropped. As someone who hasn’t heard a lot of his work past 2013 or so, I was very curious to hear how his sound has progressed after all this time. Luckily, despite a few weaker cuts, Almighty So 2 is a pretty strong release. A “return to form” isn’t the right phrase for this album because it sort of feels like a new beginning for him. 

The intro track samples “O Fortuna” and has him rapping “ Bitch, I'm Almighty, I'll shoot you with my mighty gun” over the epic, orchestral beat. It sounds so unserious but in the best way possible. A lot of the beats on this project have that orchestral twist to them and I love it. He also sounds very aware of his influence, leading to some really funny moments. Like on “Drifting Away” where he pokes fun at Kanye, who playfully proclaimed he invented drill on his “Like That” remix, by saying “Chief Sosa made drill, Kanye think he did too” and then in the final chorus and the outro he says the song has a “Kanye ass beat.” Amid the intense rap beef over the last month or so, it’s nice just to hear more lighthearted disses. Same with the “Jesus Skit” which has him throwing shots at Drake, Chris Brown, and Vic Mensa among others. The song following, “Jesus,” is one of the most aggressive tracks here and it’s a nice change of pace. Another massive highlight here is “1,2,3” which is one of his best tracks pretty handily. It has Chief Keef doing what he does best over one of the best beats I’ve heard all year. The level of quality could be a bit more consistent across this project, but the good stuff is really good. 

“Believe” is one of the most personal tracks in his discography and it’s also my favorite track on the album. He reflects on his upbringing, fatherhood, relationships with the women in his life, and his career up to this point. It’s beautiful and poignant, a detour I wasn’t expecting on this album. Ideally, Almighty So 2 will mark a new beginning for Chief Keef. He can still make the bangers he became known for, but he’s much smarter now. Much older than he was when the original tape dropped, but he’s still so young, not even 30 yet which is crazy considering “Love Sosa” seems so long ago. I’m very hopeful that we continue to get more good music from Sosa in the years to come.

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Dark Times - Vince Staples

◇ released: May 24, 2024 ◇ genres: west coast hip hop, conscious hip hop

There’s always been a bit of a darkness to Vince Staples’ projects, but a lot of the time wacky beats and upbeat delivery offset it. He’s been progressively getting more serious album after album over the last few years. His self-titled record and RAMONA PARK BROKE MY HEART were the most introspective Staples had gotten thus far. Even still, the latter had a collab with DJ Mustard so it’s not all doom and gloom. Dark Times, if the title and cover art didn’t suggest, is Staples diving headfirst into those themes and exploring them both lyrically and through the album’s production. Staples has an incredible ear for good beats and production, see his 2016 record Big Fish Theory for the most definitive proof of that, and that’s no different on this album. That brilliance goes beyond the aforementioned wacky beats as Dark Times sounds very organic on nearly every level – it’s the most grounded Staples project by far. It sounds like the album Staples needed to make right now. A dissection of his mindset during these … dark times.

After a serene intro with birds chirping, the magnificent soulful beat of “Black&Blue” kicks in. The album cycles producers throughout, this one can be attributed to Alex Goose and Michael Ozowuru. I really do adore this beat, but what makes the track even better is Staples’ lyricism as he laments, among other things, that money doesn’t solve everything. Another interesting lyrical theme throughout the album is the idea of a heaven or a hell and how it pertains to morality. He asks in the second verse “To the Heavens above, is it a mansion for thugs? / Where did Tupac and 'em go?” The way he questions these things is through a very spiritual lens which I find interesting. He touches on it a bit more in the song “Government Cheese” as he raps “Everybody gotta die, only question, is it Hell or in the sky, yeah.” This song also features a subtle sample of the beat from “Blue Suede,” one of the biggest songs from his early years, and it’s a really nice touch thematically since the song’s main focus is on his poor upbringing in Long Beach. “Shame On The Devil” has him analyzing his romantic life and his success over the years, but those religious themes are very much present on this track. During the second verse, he reveals a very crucial aspect of the album’s themes as he claims that “only the heavens can judge” people. Staples believes he isn’t in the position of making that judgment call on what is ultimately “good” and “evil.” He wrestles with it, but he places it above him. It’s not the most satisfying conclusion to the album’s narrative, albeit a loose one, but Staples really shines as a lyricist across this project.

The rest of the record continues Staples’ reflections, introspections, and frustrations despite his successes over the years. “Étouffée” has Vince detailing his frustrations with his label and his fans, lamenting how they want “2015 Vince” back. “Justin” has a very light, floaty beat as he raps about meeting and quickly getting his heartbroken. The strongest moment on the back half of the album is “Little Homies.” It has Vince almost racing through these verses while also offering some advice to the ones that come after him. It’s shaky but in a super compelling way. That sort of applies to the whole record too. Staples doesn’t have the answers, but he has questions, thoughts, and feelings that he needed to get out on record. I would say that this makes for his best record since Big Fish Theory, but it also feels like a transitional album. Excited to hear what Staples does next.

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To All Trains - Shellac

◇ released: May 17, 2024 ◇ genres: post-hardcore, noise rock

It’s impossible for a review of To All Trains not to double as a eulogy for Steve Albini. A little over a week prior to the release of the noise rock band’s first record in 10 years, Albini passed away suddenly due to a heart attack. You can’t understate his influence on the state of not just noise rock, but rock music in general. He was a pioneer, no one was making records that sounded like his whether he was in front of the mic or behind the boards. His work with Big Black in the 80s changed noise rock forever and the band’s debut Atomizer makes a strong case for being the best record in the genre. His producing work on records like the Pixies’ Surfer Rosa, PJ Harvey’s Rid of Me, The Jesus Lizard’s Goat, and Nirvana’s In Utero significantly changed how rock music sounded. That’s just naming a few, by the way, his credits list is miles and miles long. He helped to usher out the suffocating pomp and glamor that plagued the big rock music of the 1980s. Everything sounded so real, you could hear and feel everything in his recordings. Albini was also a very controversial figure, in ways that I don’t really care to defend at all. He was an edgelord, to put it mildly. In the interest of fairness, Albini in recent years has lamented some of the things he said and did. He seemed to be in a different mindset than he was back in the '80s and early '90s, but he still stuck to his “punk ethos” pretty staunchly. He had a specific view of how records should be made and produced. For instance, he never took royalties from the albums he worked on so as not to take more money out of the artist’s pockets. Albini was a prickly character with stubborn sensibilities and, in many ways, that’s what made him one of the best to ever do it. Those qualities came through in his work all the time as well.

This leads me to this new Shellac record. The band’s first in 10 years. Admittedly, in the grand scope of Albini’s work, I’m not super familiar with Shellac. I tend to lean more towards Big Black, but that could change as I dig deeper into their albums. I only heard At Action Park soon after I heard the news of his passing and that album is brilliant. A lot of the hallmarks of Albini’s sound are present in Shellac. Those jagged rhythms that almost chastise you for listening, those weighty drums, Albini’s misanthropic and bratty vocals, it’s all here and it’s all uniquely his own. The guitar tone on this record is so nasty. It sounds like it’s smoking, about to catch fire, on the opener “Wsod.” It’s just such a gritty sound, unpleasant in the best way. One of my favorite tracks here is “Chick New Wave” which has Albini proclaiming that he is “Through with music from dudes.” It reads almost ironic when you look at who made this record, but it’s playful and it has some of the band’s best performances. I adore Todd Trainer’s drumming, on the whole record, but on this song in particular. “Wednesday” has this ominous vibe to it. Shellac’s songs don’t build or payoff in the way other songs do which makes it all the more anxiety-inducing. It’s also a great showcase for Bob Weston’s bass which sounds so gross (a compliment). “I Don’t Fear Hell” is pretty handily my favorite song on the record. The band is firing on all cylinders, their best work across the album for sure. Albini sings in what could vaguely be described as the song’s chorus “When this is over / Leap in my grave like the arms of a lover / If there's a heaven, I hope they're having fun / Cause if there’s a hell, I'm gonna know everyone.” It’s a fucking awesome way to close out your final album.   Some of the songs on To All Trains don’t leave too much of a lasting impact, but it’s easy to overlook that. Even without the context of Albini’s passing, this album sounds like old friends getting back together to make some kickass tunes one more time. There are still some strong highlights here and it feels like a fitting finale to Albini’s career overall. It’s not flashy or anything, it’s just a damn fine rock record.

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Ten Fold - Yaya Bey

◇ released: May 10, 2024 ◇ genres: neo-soul, contemporary r&b

It’s always exciting when an album has a ton of character to it and Ten Fold is one of those albums. Yaya Bey sounds so self-assured and it comes through in these short, but sweet R&B cuts. Despite being almost 40 minutes in length this album flies past you. This works both in the album's favor and against it. So many great ideas are spread across the album’s 16 tracks, but they’re gone far too soon. “crying through my teeth” opens the album with Bey’s dreamy vocals and also features a laidback rap verse from her. It shows some of her strengths very well, but again, it ends with potential left on the table. If you want to look at things from a glass-half-full perspective, you could just appreciate all the great moments here despite their brevity. From the glass-half-empty perspective, you could lament that the bulk of these songs never reach their full potential. It might be a cop-out answer, but I don’t know where I land. Ten Fold is a very nice listen and I would be the biggest liar of all time if I said I didn’t enjoy my time with it, but it also has the potential to be so much more.

Bey is the star of the show here for certain. This is her second “high-profile” project and she carries herself as if she’s a household name. Her singing has weight to it and that remains true for her occasional rap verses. Like on “sir princess bad bitch” where she just sounds so cool rapping over this light, breezy beat. Her singing on “slow dancing in the kitchen” is just a joy. It’s like the music just flows through her. Still, there’s meat left on the bone. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that my favorite tracks on the record are the two that go beyond the 3-minute mark. “chasing the bus” is another sunny R&B song with a killer bassline and gorgeous vocals. “yvette’s cooking show” opens with a voice recording of a conversation she had with her father, the late Grand Daddy I.U., before shifting into her powerful vocals over a lo-fi beat. 

The voice recordings of her father appear all over the record and I only pieced together after a couple of listens that this album was, in many ways, an exploration of grief. The brief nature of these songs could make you view them as diary entries of sorts. I appreciate the concept and it makes Ten Fold a much more compelling album than I originally believed, but I still feel like the bulk of the material on this album ended before it reached a more satisfying conclusion. Of course, that’s all from a listener’s perspective. If Bey was satisfied with them, that counts for something. On the whole, it’s a good look at an incredibly talented artist bound to reach even greater heights.

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empathogen - WILLOW

◇ released: May 3, 2024 ◇ genres: indie rock, art pop, jazz pop

Willow Smith’s career over the last few years has been filled with numerous peaks and valleys. She shocked everyone back in 2021 with the track “transparent soul” which showed her diving head first into the pop-punk world to surprisingly great results. The album that song was featured on, lately i feel EVERYTHING, was good, but ultimately underwhelming. Then in 2022, she dropped two generational stinker collab singles with both Machine Gun Kelly and YUNGBLUD. However, she closed out the year with some more great singles that were then attached to another underwhelming album. Despite the frequent disappointments, it was obvious that she had a ton of talent. She had the potential to make a truly great album. empathogen isn’t that record, I don’t believe, but it is a massive step in the right direction.

The two singles leading up to this record had me very excited, cautiously so, but still. The lead single “symptom of life” had Willow going places she had never gone before. It sounded so weird with those crazy piano arpeggios and weird vocal harmonies. Never expected something like this from her, it’s one of her best easily and it still stands out on the record. The next single, and the album’s closer, “big feelings” (sorry i’m not doing the spaced-out letters thing) was also very good. It’s basically a straight-up jazz-rock song and I love it. The jazz influence across the entire album is really cool. “the fear is not real” is less jazzy in instrumentation, but more in the song’s structure. As is “no words 1 & 2” which is, well, a wordless track with some vocal riffing over some frenetic rhythms. Willow holds her own throughout most of the record, but I often find her to be the least interesting part of these tracks. Not really helped by the fact that some of the hooks and choruses don’t strike as hard as they should. Like on “pain for fun,” a soft-rock duet with St. Vincent, which just doesn’t match the energy of the rest of the record and ends up falling a bit flat. This album also is pretty short and I feel like some tracks sort of waste too much time. Short tracks like “ancient girl,” “down,” and “‘i know that face’” aren’t bad, but on a brief album every minute is precious and they don’t really add much. 

Despite some lulls here and there, empathogen is Willow’s boldest record to date. It’s her strongest set of material thus far and many of these songs are gonna be in rotation for me for quite a while. With some fine-tuning and further experimentation, I feel like her next album will be a big one. For now, let’s hope and pray another shitty collab single isn’t on the horizon.

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A Dream Is All We Know - The Lemon Twigs

◇ released: May 3, 2024 ◇ genres: pop rock, sunshine pop

I’ve always perceived The Lemon Twigs, very cynically, as one of those bands that oldhead classic rock dudes say is their favorite new band so they don’t look like a total snob who only listens to music made before 1980. The D’Addario brothers take heavily from the well of 60s psychedelic rock/pop and package them for a new era. I have to say, they’re very good at it. They clearly have a grasp of this sound and they highlight the little quirks that make the best stuff in these genres as good as they are. They’re also very talented songwriters. These are all well-written, catchy songs, especially the opener “My Golden Years.” It showcases the band’s knack for good harmonies and the bridge on this track is my favorite moment across the entire record. However, throughout the full album, I started to grow a bit tired of this sound. I can see how some would fully embrace it, but to me, it just feels a bit too gimmicky. They stick to tradition almost to a fault.

I feel like an asshole not fully loving this record because it is so whimsical. Everything is so bright and sunny, and the melodies and instrumentation are so lush and cheerful. It’s like I’m raining on their parade. There’s still a handful of songs here that I think are really good. The aforementioned great pop songwriting of “My Golden Years,” the sublime, Brian Wilson-inspired harmonies of “In the Eyes of the Girl,” and “Ember Days” sounds very much like a Simon & Garfunkel song with some baroque elements. Actually, I feel like most of these songs would all be pretty decent and fun to listen to in isolation. It’s just across the album it wears thin for me. The Twigs are excellent songwriters and musicians, that’s for sure, I just find it difficult to fully embrace them. Still, A Dream Is All We Know is definitely worth a listen.

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Stampede Vol. 1 - Orville Peck

◇ released: May 10, 2024 ◇ genres: contemporary country, country pop

Masked country star Orville Peck has released the first volume of his Stampede duets project. Unfortunately, this new EP contains some of Peck’s weakest material yet. About half of the songs here are covers. He’s a good curator, the songs he chose are good songs to cover (for the most part), but they never really reach the heights of the originals or Peck’s previous material. I was ambivalent, yet a bit appreciative, when Peck released the lead single to this EP. A cover of the Ned Sublette-penned “Cowboys Are Frequently, Secretly Fond of Each Other” with Willie Nelson, whose cover of the song back in 2006 made the song gain prominence. It’s fine. All of the covers on this EP never excel beyond fine. Some fall very flat, like Peck and Elton John’s rendition of “Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting,” a classic in the latter’s catalog, but here it sounds so much less rough around the edges. It loses so much of the charm the original had. The best cuts here are the non-covers. Like “The Hurtin’ Kind,” a duet with country group Midland, which is a sleek cut with a really solid melody. 

Stampede: Vol. 1 is pleasant enough to throw on in the background, but it doesn’t mark a big progression in Peck’s sound or artistry like I think it should. He’s coming off of two really good records and, while I’m sure this project was fun to make, Stampede doesn’t seem like the next best step for him. We’ll see if I’m proven wrong, I hope I am!

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Clancy - Twenty One Pilots

◇ released: May 24, 2024 ◇ genres: alt-pop, indie rock

I’ve never been the biggest fan of Twenty One Pilots. In fact, I actively dislike a majority of their music and yet, for some reason, I keep giving them second chances. Everything they do, even the relative bright spots in their catalog, have this overbearing layer of triteness to them. The duo is ambitious in nearly every facet of their artistry except the most important part, the music they put on record. Their last few albums, bar 2021’s Scaled and Icy, have been sprawling concept albums set in this fictional world they’ve created and dealt with themes of mental health, suicide, religion, and a whole bunch of stuff like that. It’s a cool concept and with the right execution it could make for a stellar run of albums, but even in their best moments, Twenty One Pilots never seem to nail the execution. Unfortunately, despite some decent moments, Clancy is no different. It’s not their worst effort by any means, but it might be their most infuriating. After all this time, the band still can’t help but give in to their worst instincts as songwriters and, despite some of the exciting moments on the singles leading up to the record, they stay in their comfort zone musically. I’m beginning to think these flaws are just fundamental aspects of their music.

To be a little bit more positive, the two opening tracks are some of the band’s best. “Overcompensate” has a soaring chorus and while the rap verses from Tyler Joseph don’t hit for me, a common complaint that pertains to this record and the band’s previous efforts, the positives far outweigh the negatives. That chorus has been stuck in my head for days. “Next Semester” is perhaps the best the duo has ever sounded. Upon first listen, I wasn’t too impressed. I was being a bit too cynical, but hearing it in the context of the record made it click for me. It shows them getting out of their comfort zone, and trying something different and it pays off tremendously. It’s just excellent songwriting on every level. The verses rip hard and the chorus is one of the best I’ve heard all year. Josh Dun’s drumming on this song, and the whole record, is fantastic. He’s almost too good for these songs. “Next Semester” is a blessing and a curse for Clancy because it’s far and away the best song here. No song comes close to its brilliance, painfully so. This is just me, but whenever Joseph starts rapping, I tune him out entirely. His bars are boring and his delivery is irritating. Haven’t been able to take him seriously since he delivered the line “I wasn't raised in the hood / But I know a thing or two about pain and darkness” on “Lane Boy” from the Blurryface album. So imagine how loud I audibly groaned when “Backslide” played after the band’s best moment.   The highest praise I can give to Clancy outside of those two tracks is that it’s listenable. A majority of the cuts here don’t make me want to crawl out of my own skin which is better than some of their other albums, namely Vessel. Other moments close to highlights include “Midwest Indigo,” “Navigating,” and the closer “Paladin Strait.” Apparently, this marks the end of this series of concept albums, and if there was ever a time for them to reinvent themselves, NOW is the time.

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Radical Optimism - Dua Lipa

◇ released: May 3, 2024 ◇ genre: dance-pop

Dua Lipa’s last album Future Nostalgia remains one of the finest pop albums of the decade. No shortage of great hooks, melodies, vocal performances, and production on that record – about as good as a mainstream pop album can get these days. It was the perfect slingshot to send Lipa into the stratosphere so she could reach even greater heights. It brings me great sadness to report that the follow-up Radical Optimism is anything but said greater heights. All of the great craft and star power is gone, traded in favor of painfully generic hooks and shockingly dull performances. I know Lipa has it in her to make absolute bangers, what happened here?

The songwriting here, for the most part, is pop music at its most tedious. Empty, vacuous, and grand. Despite that, the album starts off decently. I find the hook on “End of an Era” to be a bit irritating, but it’s a fine opener, especially with that funky house sound. “Houdini” and “Training Season” didn’t wow me as singles leading up to the album, but I found myself enjoying them way more here. These songs actually make her sound like one of the world’s biggest pop stars. The former is far and away the most well-crafted song here. This album’s sound is heavily indebted to Kevin Parker of Tame Impala and you can definitely hear it, his hallmarks are all over the place. His contributions are pretty good, but good production work alone does not make a good pop album. The album takes a more introspective approach to its lyrical themes towards the midway point, and that could be an interesting change of pace if these songs just weren’t so dull. “These Walls” has one of the lamest choruses I’ve heard all year, it’s so anticlimactic. The ending of the chorus where Lipa sings “Oh, if these walls could talk / They'd tell us to break up,” falls so frustratingly flat. Was there not a more creative way to convey this? Lipa’s vocals and lyricism here are just so non-specific to her. Even when the album gets a bit more sensitive, there’s nothing that makes this hers and hers alone. The weakest stretch on the album comes with the three tracks before the closer, specifically “Anything for Love” and “Maria.” They feel like such massive steps backward for her like she’s being thrown into sounds that were cliche years ago. At least the album’s closer is pretty decent, but at that point I was already too disappointed to care.

This album is competently crafted. It has good production, big choruses, and some slower moments to feign depth, but it’s all just so sterile. Assembly line pop music, Lipa is just here to get the job done.  I still herald Future Nostalgia as one of the finest pop albums in years, rife with hit singles that are still in rotation four years later.  I don’t foresee smash hits like “Levitating” or “Don’t Stop Now” anywhere on Radical Optimism and it might just be due to a lack of trying. 

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Everyone's Getting Involved: A Tribute to Talking Heads' Stop Making Sense

◇ released: May 17, 2024 ◇ genre: new wave, pop rock

To preface this review, I am a massive Talking Heads fan. I consider many of their records to be among my favorites of all time. Stop Making Sense especially, both the live album and the concert film itself, which this tribute album commemorates in dubious fashion. I had very low expectations heading into this, but I decided to give it a chance. The only singles that moved me leading up to the album were Paramore’s version of “Burning Down the House” and, surprisingly, Teezo Touchdown’s version of “Making Flippy Floppy.” The former sounds like the band actually wanted to be a part of this and the latter sticks so close to the original that I can at least fein some enjoyment. Having trudged my way through the whole thing, those really are the only two tracks that stick out. Everyone’s Getting Involved is decent at best, irritating at worst, and often just plain lifeless. Which, certainly when you’re paying tribute to one of the most frenetic bands of all time, is a crucial error.

Some of the artist/song pairings on this release are just baffling. Who in their right mind thought Kevin Abstract should cover “Once in a Lifetime?” The funniest thing is, the cover is absolutely worse than you could imagine. Abstract strips the life out of the song and waters down one of the most wild choruses in new wave history to the musical equivalent of a wet fart. It’s just a disaster on every level. As is girl in red’s version of “Girlfriend is Better” which butchers the personality present in the original. Nearly everyone here sounds asleep at the wheel. BADBADNOTGOOD and Norah Jones’ version of “This Must Be the Place” is pleasant enough, but again, it feels like no one is putting in the effort they should. Lorde’s cover of the Talking Heads’ cover of Al Green’s “Take Me to the River” just sounds awkward, just a misguided effort. I have to give some props to Miley Cyrus for her take on “Psycho Killer,” it isn’t particularly good, but she at least sounds confident in it. To put it simply, the bar on this record is incredibly low. Everyone’s Getting Involved doesn’t have the fun air a tribute album should, instead it just feels tedious and an afterthought to everyone involved in the process of putting this thing together.

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Valedictorian - ian

4202 ,71 yaM :desaeler ◇ ??? :serneg ◇

here is my review .

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psssst. i made a discord server ... if u wanna join here's the invite https://discord.gg/rsHMenTU see u there and thank u for reading :3

[thebandcampdiaries]

Survivor Q inspires rap fans with his relatable and passionate rap songs.

A distinctive take on “Kingdom Music” from an artist who puts passion and faith first

Survivor Q is undoubtedly not your average hip-hop artist. He strays from the usual cliches of the genre and focuses on a more personal approach. In other words, he wants to make music that is something more than plain old entertainment. Most rap fans often lament the lack of true substance in a genre that’s often plagued by cliches. However, some artists are here to make a big statement and remind the world that rap could (and should) be an ultimate form of expression. Survivor Q is here to show that, and more. He is a fresh and motivated veteran who genuinely wants to inspire and connect with the audience, offering a positive vibe that makes his blend of “Kingdom Music” stand out. Survivor Q’s upcoming studio album is titled Kingdom Rooted. This release, which has just been announced, is going to be a one-of-a-kind milestone for the artist. His sound stands out as a powerful combination of hip-hop, gospel aesthetics, and more. Survivor Q swiftly combines various influences under one banner, and Kingdom Rooted will be a perfect example of how far he can take his creativity.

Meanwhile, fans can still check out some of the artist’s most recent singles. Each song he releases feels like a celebration of the Lord and an opportunity to share a positive influence with the listeners. He is also not afraid to share personal stories and experiences, even when he had to go through some difficult times in order to reach maturity as a person and a follower of Jesus. In addition, each and every song in Survivor Q’s discography has something special to offer in terms of stylistic influences. One of the artist’s best singles is titled “Gotta winner.” The song is a perfect mood-setter and a fantastic way to get to know the artist’s music, should you not be familiar with his songs. The beat has a modern sound inspired by trap drums and soothing atmospheric background melodies. More importantly, Survivor Q’s vocals are outstanding. He brings so much character and passion to his flow. The second song that’s definitely worth a special mention is titled “OUR GOOD.” A catchy piano melody drives the track, and a trap-inspired drum pattern immediately seals the deal. This song is incredibly thought-provoking, with lyrics that are outspoken and relatable. The collaboration with Emcee Mia on this song is spot-on, as the chemistry between the two artists on this track is undeniable.

Another single, “Foe Life,” continues on the thread-line of combining modern hip-hop aesthetics with meaningful lyrics and big, lush tones. The instruments collide beautifully, and there is much room to let everything breathe. In this song, the tone of the lead vocals is truly remarkable. It adds a recognizable yet subtle flavor, giving the tune its distinctive signature.

Last but not least, the song “Most High” is a compelling musical moment that brings something really interesting to the artist’s discography. This track features Goodwritt3ns, and it brings a fresh, punchy outlook to the table. The featured artist’s vocals are really unique as well, with a “West Coast” flavor reminiscent of legends such as Snoop Dogg.

The upcoming studio album mentioned earlier is going to be released later this summer. However, this massive new work is only the beginning for the artist, who will also drop a new single later next month. The track will feature Kidd Lee, who is well-known in social media circles! Survivor Q is a name to watch out for in the music scene. The artist has the confidence and skills necessary to produce something that will make a deeper impact in the life of his listeners. Tune in if you enjoy the sound of artists such as Lecrae, Bizzle, or KB.

Find out more about Survivor Q, and do not miss out on his music.

https://open.spotify.com/artist/13aW7JAGwAKtH9QU9FoZOA?si=d9eAx5FIQky0tJGcTiqNsg

https://twitter.com/survivorque

https://www.instagram.com/survivor_q/

https://www.youtube.com/user/SURVIVORQUE

[tubbytarchia]

I hope not to sound defensive either and I don't want to get into every nitpick or detail but I fully agree with Martyn. I'm not much good at expressing my thoughts intricately but I really want to say something. Istg I'm not being a suckup to the block youtuber man, but his Vtuber model is VERY recognizable in both silhouette and generally. In fact, the generic pretty anime boy models should learn from that rather than the other way around. I personally don't wholly like Martyn's vtuber model but that's just because of my stylistic preferences and their tech limitations (achieving a 2D look requires a whole lot, and regardless its very respectable!) In fact, it's the anatomical lankiness that's a bit offputting to me but you know what? It's very goddamn memorable!! It's striking and unique. And it's certainly infinitely more interesting to look at still. I will take it over some shoujo anime guy base with some stuff thrown at it any day of the week. I'm sorry but my eyes frankly glaze over whenever I see these vtubers that all look the same if you take away some added apparel etc. I've seen a handsome demon anime guy vtuber with lots of intricate detail and thought put into it 20 times over, and none of them are remarkable compared to one another. The guy with the huge coat is certainly a more unique choice but it's entirely dependant on said coat, it's the same genshin impact dating sim dude I've seen a dozen times over otherwise even if it's a somewhat unusual silhouette. They all look to be made for maximized appeal only to get lost in all these cool details and concepts that they try to apply to this handsome man base, which then add nothing because there has been no thought put into their utilisation (not all "anime boy" designs fall under this, of course not!!! Just... very many that I see people often praise)

Again, Martyn's model is very striking in its core shape, and the added details only accentuate that - the huge poofy hair to one side, the big zipper bit, the large sleeves, whilst being relatively minimalistic and simple - less is more! And this design works perfectly for the solid 2D style Martyn is trying to go for. Giving yourself less to work with to make a good design is often the exact recepy to a good design. Way too much of the time do vtuber models etc get incredibly overdetailed

Color balance is so important and it's crucial to figure out a good palette whilst not overdoing it but also making use of accents etc. And personally I think Martyn's model does it fantastically. The green and white work well together with the added black accents on top, then switching it out for black with green and white accents at the lower half. It keeps things from feeling samey though the same colors are being used, it makes for a really effective use of a concise, focused palette

These anime guys brought up as examples HAVE THEIR PLACE, they have an audience and they work better in some scenarios, there is nothing wrongn with liking them, but please do not compare them to Martyn's vtuber model? Just because they're popular and therefore regarded as peak vtuber design by many? They are seven seas apart in design, maybe use other more cartoonish heavily stylized vtuber models for comparision instead, because there's a lot more to take away from that discussion. I'm frankly a bit flabbergasted but again, I'm passionate about art and design and hope not to come off rude

As someone who desgins vtubers for a living Martyn and Ranboo's models cause me physical pain

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[shadowsepiphany]

Dust Beneath | jjk.

Synopsis: how much you’ve longed for him, the nerdy boy in your class, but you left highschool, barely talking a word to each other. reconnecting in college seemed like misty-eyed nostalgia, a second chance. but jungkooks obvious change latched like dust to your fingers.

Pairing: Fuckboy!Jungkook x reader

Genre: College AU, unrequited love

Warnings: mature content, mature language, Jungkook is a little shit sometimes (with a golden heart), drinking and smoking, reader is absolutely insane for jungkook, deep talk about humans and the universe

Rating: mature!

Word count: 1,5k (just a small Drabble)

fragments of the white issue caused by the insufferable weather were hanging on the windows of his freezing, black car. The colour of the car was swallowed by the nothingness of the night, simply gone, your red cheeks the only sign of life in this lifeless seeming situation, his hand rising and sinking out of you, his knuckles, every swung formed with perfection hitting your sponge like spot, butterflies filling up your stomach, caused rather by his fixated eyes, deep brown hitting your trembling skin, than his act. Your breaths of coldness were catched by the air, visibly forming clouds, your moans were behaving and it displeased him. 

Him, Jeon Jungkook, the person you hid from back in high school, even if he wasnt searching for you at all. His shy personality and sly grin, fast hand taking notes, carefully and concentrated, his seat was never empty. His voice was low and quiet, but your ears appreciated them often, right answers but wrong reactions displaying in front of you. 

The first time you have talked to your silly crush was in a place you have never expected him to be: a place for the misbehaving bunch, detention. You couldnt believe your eyes when his usually empty seat was filled yet again, dark hair and red ears in front of you, the only thing your other senses picked up on where your heart beating out of place and the smell of his cologne sticking up your nose, blocking your ability to answer when his face was suddenly way too close to your own, his smile directed at you for the first time when he asked: 

”Why are you here?”

The Question was bound to be leaving his lips yet again, becoming words that tied you two together, instead of a song usually would. The dorms were infected with individuals sticking their cigarettes in their mouths like they would give them back their sanity, your eyes growing bored of the same situation being displayed in the same way every passing day. Every heavy step, unable to be heard from others but incredibly noisy for your own self, were causing your brain, weary but watchful, to shut down. Eyes were turning black as you could sense your fingertips grasping the rim of your door, before a heavier sensation was bound to shake you up, a shoulder, admittedly bony, was crashing into your own. It creeped you out, the way all of your senses knew immediately who was in front of you, his cologne, his voice and even his physique on your shoulder for less than a second: Jeon jungkook was recognizable.

Mumbling his apologies he stopped as he finally recognized you too, a smile flashing on his lips, apologetic but still sunny, before something else flashing you caught your attention: A piercing above his brow, gallant and quiet bright, caused your lips to be a reflection of his own, smiling, inclining towards a maniac almost.

“Oh hey! Why are you here?”

There is something so peaceful about the world being small, the whole universe swallowing everything whole. You can live and die, and the universe will forget you. But doesnt matter how seemingless that may sound, it's also the best thing a human can experience: Do what you want, be who you want, in the end, no one cares. Humans are all the same.

So it was bound to happen: reconnecting with people almost forgotten, the nostalgia misty eyed and bittersweet as his cologne that you started to experience every single day from now on, reminded you of much simpler times, times that were slightly morose, hanging in the air whenever you talked to jungkook. Everything turned to nothingness, his whole persona changed, tattoos that your mind disowned as a part of this once sweet boy, now breaking hearts and his seat empty in class, your heart wrenching a little. The only dust left were your feelings for him, as you realised it wasn't the sweetness you fell for, but the part that hid beneath it: the soul straining to show his true self, but not the person he showed, you were certain of that.

“Y/N? Are you listening?” 

Brown eyes were piercing you, luminous and sweet, his face the only thing of sweetness left in his being. He would never get rid of his childlike features and in all honesty, it calmed you, knowing that no matter how many piercings or tattoos he would get, no matter how much more he would work out, this old part of him will always remain the same.

His Head was tilted, almost deranged, nose delicate but scrunched together causing your lips to escape a sweet giggle. How you have fallen for him, like a teenage girl in college.

“Sorry, I'm listening.” You assured him, hands on the hardwood floor, dust latching onto your fingers, a grey cloud forming onto them, somehow reminding you of the individual sitting in front of you, shoving the chopsticks into his mouth, the act bizarre but still seeming generously sensuous, as he started talking again, despite food still not swallowed, a rude gesture if you wouldn't be sitting in a dirty dorm, lousy and messy, in which everything and everyone stepping a food into it seemed classy.

“Well, I thought about going to this party. The thing is, I need to bring someone to be able to enter. I don't wanna give any of them girls a false expression that i'm trying to settle, you know?”

A noodle was hanging from his rosy lower lip, distracting you amidst your own chopsticks leaving your mouth again, your take out food now empty, put to the side, solely an act  to be able to think about Jungkook's words a little longer. 

“That sucks, yeah. What are you gonna do?”

You weren't naive, but you rather played the part, instead of assuming falsely. Was he about to ask you to accompagne him? Your heart was beating faster and you damned your whole body for the reaction displayed, luckily, only for you to notice. Jungkook stopped trying to understand others, since he didn't even understand himself, his observing gift being left unused. Eyes sparkling and corner of his mouth, raising a little, studiously satiric, confirming your assumption before he even spoke a syllable. 

“You're going with me! Youre my best friend, were not fucking, no false hopes. Also you're my free ticket to lay someone there, haven't been able to do that in a while.”

There it was again, the wall, sometimes invisible but now with heavy stones, rough and strongly spiked, separating you two from each other. Your heart with a thousand stitches, inevitable and wounded, your face red, trying to hide the emotions that flooded your senses, while he remained emotionless, numb, awaiting for your answer. 

What great best friends you two were.

You couldn't believe it one bit. How one human individual had so much power over you, over your choices and days, without even sensing it. But it was mirrored in your behaviour: a white dress latching onto your figure like the dirt on your fingers the day before, an invisible halo displayed above your head, gorgeous and lunar, like the moon blending your view in the car. You felt his stare, but the reason behind it remained hidden. Does he think you look pretty? Breathtaking even? You tried to observe his breaths, and they did seem unordinary. 

Something was off.

Deep and treacherous snow was falling as you heard him cursing slightly, his voice raising with every second passing by. You saw the white traitor in heavy measures, caused by the wheels being stuck in them, feeling like you were trapped in a tiny hole. 

“Fuck, were not getting anywhere!” he cursed, stepping heavier into the gas pedal, his piercing somehow more luminous than usual, grabbing your attention and tying it to his features, despite being angered at the moment.

“What are we gonna do?” 

Your voice was calm, a blessing for Jungkook, as he felt his heart, presumably weak and cold, warm up at your tone and eyes. 

“Waiting until the rain will melt the snow off.”

His hands were letting go off his wheel visibly, you could feel your heart beating at the situation that you didn't seem to comprehend until now, your breath catching onto the snow glistening, threatening to reveal your inner self to your best friend.

“Well, you wanna talk?” he was curious, eyes scanning your every move and you felt like you walked into an intervention. His brows were raised and mouth slightly opened, eyelids closed for a second, it was the only second you could breathe again.

“Yeah, why not.” Your voice was high, higher than usual and Jungkook experienced deja-vús, heavily under his skin. He couldn't quite recall where he heard this kind of voice before, but his mouth was open, before he could hold himself back any longer.

“Or, we could fuck.”

Your face was disturbed and he bit his tongue, his brain darkened like an eclipse, afraid he said something wrong, like he usually did when it comes to you. But as he lowered his gaze, he could see your thighs pressed together, hands twitching and he knew, he knew you were just like the rest of them and he just scored. 

And as he kissed you and gave you exactly what you wanted, the only thing that he didn't catch on was how much deeper his own pain reached, feeling used in the dark corner of his soul, like dust beneath the surface. 

[beels-burger-babe]

Of Jealousy and Friendship - Pt. 1

Topic number 2 won in the vote to be written next! So without further-a-do, let’s get going!...This ended up being a two part thing. Oh Well. Here’s part one. - B GN! MC Summary: MC makes a lower demon friend who may secretly be hoping for something more than friendship. The Demon Bros are not about to let this happen. Part Two: Here, Epilogue: Here It all started in magical potions. When you first arrived, the course wasn’t so bad since you took it with Beelzebub. The two of you always partnered up; the hour would consist of you jokingly scolding Beel for trying to eat ingredients and making light hearted jokes with one another whenever the teacher turned their back.  But once the second semester started, Beel was moved out of the course as it had gotten too expensive to keep him in a class where most of the subject matter was edible.  Which left you alone and bored in the classroom as the teacher went on and on about Mandrake roots and what they can be used for. You let out a heavy sigh and plopped your forehead onto the desk.  A soft snort came from beside you. You glanced over to see a demon with his feet propped up on his desk staring right back at you out of the corner of his dark green eyes. He smiled at you with a tilt of his head.  “The lectures are a total snooze fest right? I joined this class cause I thought we’d be making potions and causing stuff to explode. Not sitting here twisting our thumbs all day.” 

You bit back a laugh as you worried glanced over at the professor, who was none-the-wiser to the little conversation the two of you were sharing. You looked back over to the demon. His dark skin caused those hauntingly green eyes of his pop out at all who met his gaze, with carefully trimmed and styled black curls sitting stylishly on the top of his head.  There was a playful and mischievous energy to him that reminded you of Belphie, Asmo and Mammon.  “Unfortunately suffering through this section of class is mandatory to be allowed to mess around with the fun stuff.”  The demon groaned and threw his head back. “Urgh, that’s so unfair. What’s the worst that can happen? The potion explodes and kills us? Newsflash teach, we’re already dead.”  You couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out at that one.  “Well actually the worse that could happen, for you at least as I am a very mortal human, is that you’d suffer the consequences from one of the potions. Anything from shrinking to de-aging to charms, all kinds of things. I’ve seen the effects of a potion gone wrong a number of times during my time down here. Trust me; you don’t want to be on the receiving end.”  He looked over at you with an analytical eye as the corners of his lips tilted upwards. “So you’re the human that everyone’s talking about.” He trailed off, and glanced over at the teacher to make sure they weren’t looking before stretching out his hand towards you. “I’m Cane. You know despite being the talk of RAD, I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone mention your name?”  You took his hand into your own and lightly shook it. “I’m MC.” 

Cane leaned back into his chair, “It’s a pleasure to finally put a name and face to that glowing reputation of yours, MC. I see your pretty good at this potions thing, and I hear that you’re a lot of fun. How about you meet me downtown for supper later and we can study and get to know each other a little better?”  Your initial instinct was to agree, but then you paused as you thought of the brothers. “I don’t know. I don’t think that Lucifer or the others would like it much if I went out on my own.”  The demon huffed and light heartedly rolled his eyes. “You won’t be alone, you’ll be with me. I may not be as powerful as them, but I’m still a pretty good fighter.” He teasingly placed a gentle punch onto your shoulder, “Besides, it’s not like they’re boss of you. Are you really going to let a bunch of snobby Lords keep you from making the best of your time in the Devildom?”  That last remark hit a nerve. If there was one thing that had spread quite quickly about you around RAD, it was that you were known for being a little reckless, prideful, and never being able to back down from a challenge, and boy did that statement have you itching to prove him wrong.  You smiled, a sharp dangerous smile, at Cane. “I’ll go. And we’re going to do so much more than just go to a lame restaurant and study. You want to have fun and take risks? We’ll have fun and take risks. Whatever you want to do...to a degree,” you added in quickly remembering that you were talking to a demon and if you didn’t implement any boundaries there was no telling what you’d get yourself into, “I’m in.”  Cane’s eyes sparkled as his smile widened. “Damn. I guess it’s true that you’re a bit of dare devil. Alright, you’re on. Meet me at Hell’s Kitchen a 4pm. We’ll study and hit the books as promised, but afterwards...Get ready for the night of your life.”  ***

The brothers were concerned. You had rushed into the House of Lamentation after school and sprinted to your room, changed out of your uniform and promptly shouted that you were “going out” before taking off before any of them could complain.  Mammon had tried to argue that someone should follow you, and while that wasn’t a terrible idea, Lucifer wanted to give you the question of the doubt. Worst case scenario, you come back home a little scratched up and learn your lesson about taking off into the dangers of the Devildom.  At least that’s what he had thought when you had initially left.  It was now bordering midnight, and you had yet to return home.  So yeah, the brothers were very concerned.  Mammon was pacing and ranting about how this all could’ve been avoided if they had only listened to him for once.  Leviathan was trying to distract himself with his game, but everyone could see the worried glances he kept throwing to the entrance and clock as the minutes ticked by.  Satan sat near where Mammon and would occasionally scold or correct him, and sometimes even throw in his own ideas on what could be done while he thumbed through a book on location spells.  Asmodeus was strangely quiet, sitting near the fire by himself with arms wrapped around his torso as he stared into the flames. He would occasionally move a hand to wipe at his face before it went right back to hugging himself.  Beelzebub had lost his appetite. He sat next to Belphie, taking comfort in his twin’s presence, while Belphegor pretended to be unbothered and asleep, even though his mind was racing with the many stupid situations you could’ve gotten yourself into.  And Lucifer...He just sat in a door near the entryway, his eyes fixed on the entrance as he silently waited.  Finally, just as the clock stroke midnight, they could hear your recognizable laugh from behind the door.  “Oh my god! That was incredible! I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun in life!” Leviathan stiffened at the statement, his hands gripping tighter onto his game.  “What did I tell you? I promised you the night of your life, and I sure as Diavolo always make sure to deliver,” everyone froze at the sound of the teasing male voice. “Though I didn’t expect the Seven Lords’ precious human to be a complete bad ass. You were amazing out there.”  Leviathan mumbled something before getting up and leaving the room. Mammon growled lowly and looked at the others, “Anyone know who the hell that is?”  Asmo finally stood, wiping at his face as he did, and began to stride towards the door, “Why don’t we find out?”  Without waiting for a response, Asmodeus swung the door open and pulled on a bright smile as he reached out and wrapped an arm around you. “MC, darling, you didn’t tell me you were bringing over guests! Don’t tell me you’re trying to have fun without me?”  You blinked up at the Asmo before smiling softly at his tactics. “Oh, hey Asmo! I didn’t expect you to be up. Cane here was just dropping me off.”  The demon in question didn’t even so much as stiffen as Asmodeus’s dangerous stare shifted over to him. Instead Cane stood there, relaxed, with a shit-eating grin on his face. Asmodeus raised an eyebrow at him and allowed a bit of his demonic aura to exude around him. “Oh really? At this time of night? Makes a demon wonder what kind of mischief the two of you had gotten up to,” while maintaining eye contact with Cane, Asmo rested his chin against your shoulder. “You know dear, if you wanted “fun” that badly all you had to do was ask. I assure you I could’ve shown you a much better time.” He purred and softly kissed your shoulder.  You shivered, missing the way Asmo stiffened as he noticed something, and swatted at the Avatar of Lust as you moved away from him. “Down Asmo. It’s nothing like that. Cane’s in my magical potions class. We went out to study together and decided to hit a couple clubs while we were out. No biggy.”  “If it’s ‘no biggy’ then why were you out all night without giving us any kind of warning of where you were going or how long you’d be out?” Everyone whirled around as Lucifer stood in the doorway with a frown etched on his face and his arms crossed. He took a step closer to you before freezing mid-step, his nose twitching. His eyes flared red as they fell onto Cane. The lower demon tensed and curled his hands into fists, but seemed to be refusing to back down. Lucifer snarled, “What exactly was it that you said the two of you were up to tonight?”  You frowned and stepped between Lucifer and your new friend. “Hey! Stop it! He didn’t do anything, if that’s what you’re implying. And I wasn’t aware that I needed permission for every single thing that I do!” You snapped poking his chest as you moved into his space. “So excuse me for wanting to go out and enjoy myself for once!”  Whatever fear Cane had been showing, quickly slipped away at seeing you stand your ground against the mighty first born. “Yeah. What they said.”  Lucifer growled and caught your hand into his own, pulling you close and leaning in, “You’d be wise to remember that you are in the Devildom and surrounded by beings that have no where near as good intentions as you’d assume. Being so reckless and naïve down here could get you killed again, I thought you had learned that.” His tone was cold and unapologetic as he practically spat the words in your face.  You glared at Lucifer as you yanked your hand out of his grasp. There was so many things you wanted to say to him, but none of them would be right to say in front of an audience. You huffed and turned to face Cane. “I am so sorry about those two. Thanks again for tonight and bringing me home. I’ll see you tomorrow in class, okay?”  Cane gave you a side smile as he scratched the back of his neck. “It’s nothing. I had a great time hanging out with you. Hopefully we can do again...under better circumstances. Goodnight MC.” He took a step towards you and pulled you into a hug.  You smiled, wondering how Lucifer and Asmo could be stirring up such a fuss about a guy who had been nothing but kind to you, and gently hugged him back.  What you couldn’t see, was Cane making direct eye contact with the two other demons, as one of his wrists gently brushed up and down you back and he very lightly nuzzled, so lightly that you could just barely feel it, his face against your neck.  “Hey, what’s takin’ everyone so- WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK?!” Mammon stormed forward and yanked you out of the demon’s embrace, already changing into his demon form. “Who the hell do you think you are scenting our human, huh?!” He lifted Cane off the ground by the collar of his shirt, causing the lower demon growl as he scratched at Mammon’s hands.  You yanked on Mammon’s jacket and arms and tried to get him to back off. “Woah! Mammon, relax! It was just a hug!”  “No it wasn’t,” Satan grumbled as he and the rest of the brothers (excluding Leviathan who was now sulking in his room) stood in the door way. “The fact that you don’t know that makes this even worst. But this isn’t a conversation we should be having out here.” Beel stared down at the demon with a fierce glare. “You should leave while you’re still able. And if you know what’s best for you, you’ll stay away from MC.”  “Wha- Beel! Cut that out!”  Cane took a step backwards, fear beginning to spill into his expression as he finally realizes just how out-powered and out-numbered he is. Still, he was stubborn pain in the ass; it was part of the reason he had been so drawn to you in the first place as he related to your reckless habits. He held Beelzebub’s glare and returned it with one of his own. “I think that MC can choose for themself who they do and do not hang out with, thanks. They already said they wanted to see me tomorrow so they will. We’re friends after all. And classmates,” his grin sharpened as he continued. “I do have to thank you, Lord Beelzebub, for that opening in magical potions by the way. Never would’ve got in if you hadn’t been kicked out.”  Before he could say anymore, he was met with a punch in the face. Belphegore lazily shook out his hand and his looked at Cane with an unbothered expression. “I believe we told you to leave. Now get. The. Fuck. Out.”  Cane scoffed and turned to you once more. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Dare Devil.”  You would’ve snorted at the nickname, but you were to distracted from the brother’s behavior. “Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow. Get home safe, Cane.” With another nod, the demon left; leaving you alone with six of the seven brothers bubbling with jealousy, anger, and concern.

[kavikaslana]

I just read some of your sub Shig stuff, and I didn’t know how much I would love the concept until I read yours!

I really like the thought of his crush trying to teach him some manners. Like just pinning him somewhere, not giving him ANY relief unless he says please. Maybe even calls them sir/mistress? And they’ll stop immediately if he insults them or gets too impatient. They’ll taunt him like, “All you’ve gotta do is be nice. That’s it! Then you’ll get whatever you want.” And UGH HE HATES IT but at the same time they’re making him feel incredible.

~ 🌹

I swear I'm starting to convert more of you guys. Y'all have to be looking through my screenshots at this point, thats EXACTLY my type of shit. Like don't get me wrong, whining for Shig's cute and all but its so much better to have a guy that could literally kill you in one hit on his knees. I don't have anything against him being both, but like personally I like my serial killers whiny and needy, and considering I only simp for Shig, he's the biggest victim. I'm also the only dominant one in my friend group, and they act like its a crime to be the one on top

Boutta pull out my private drafts for this, hold up

Minors DNI. Just because I let y'all follow for the sfw stuff doesn't mean you can get away with reading smut <3

If anyone's wondering what they described, I believe its this one

Sub Shigaraki x Dom Fem! reader

One of your hands was wrapped around his throat, just barely applying enough pressure to keep him from breathing properly. His pale skin seemed to glow under the dim light while it only made yours stand out that much more.

He's not even sure how it got to this point.

Your free hand moved to cup his chin, forcing him to look at you before brushing your lips against his briefly, just long enough for him to lean forward to catch yours, inexperienced lips trying to force his tongue into you mouth

You pull away, pulling him onto your lap, his legs straddling your thighs, your eyes scanning his chest down to his legs. He just looked so pretty, his cock already so hard just from a few simple touches.

"You're so goddamn pretty like this, y'know that, don't you? C'mon, just tell me what you want, I'll do it for you if you ask nicely," you start, taking a moment to give him a quick, sloppy kiss, "It's that easy Tomu."

His words were barely recognizable, only the word 'please' being loud enough for you to hear correctly, everything else sounded like a mix of whines and blabbering.

"What's wrong? You're so quiet. It's just us, no need to be so quiet with me." You cooed, moving his hair out of his face, your other hand grabbing at his shirt.

Instead, he just buried his face into your neck, murmuring something seemingly along the lines of 'just do it already, you're taking too long', his words still quiet and once again, barely recognizable.

This time though, instead of asking him to speak up again, you just assume you know what he wants, slowly unbuttoning his jeans, just watching the visible parts of his face turn red. Small whimpers escaping his lips every time your fingertips get just a little to close to his boxers, his breath hitching at the thought alone.

The second he feels your skin against his bare cock, he almost looses it immediately. A single loud, drawn out moan escaping his pretty lips. It's so hard for him to stay quiet once you start moving your hand, instead, he opts for biting your neck in order to muffle his sounds.

Once you speed up your movements though, its a whole different story. He detaches his mouth from your neck, throwing his head back, holding onto your shoulders for support. His legs go weak, and he'd probably fall on his back if you weren't holding him. The amount of noise coming from him is strange considering he won't talk unless he's desperate, and even then he's awfully quiet. Maybe its just the same little mix of moans and pants, but he's just so much louder.

"My little toy likes that, don't you? You're doing so good... just sit still, I'll take care of everything from here, ok?" You say, pressing kisses against his cheek, pulling away only to have his lips smashed against yours.

His hips involuntarily start bucking into your touch, desperate for anything he can get from you, his tongue trying to squirm past your lips. His arms wrap around your back, one hand tangling in your hair, pulling you closer to him. His legs start shaking just a little bit, and his already sloppy kiss getting worse.

When he finally pulls away, there's a string of saliva connecting you two. He just looks at you, his eyes glazed over and hazy. His mouth hangs open, drool spilling down his face as his cock start twitching, just before you pull your hand away.

"Hey! I-I wasn't done yet! Please mistress, just a little longer, please? I didn't do anything wrong..." He whines, his hips thrusting into thin air, the tip of his cock red and swollen.

He almost starts crying, his voice cracking every time he even tries to speak. Even then, anything he can get out ends up as a broken plea, a promise that he'll listen.

The familiar warmth of your skin against his almost makes him cry, your thumb rubbing the tip of his cock, but nothing more. A cracked whine slipping past him, his mouth moving to press desperate kisses against your neck. Anything that he can think of, he'll try.

"If you wait just a little bit, I'm sure I can give you something better, got it baby? Just be patient, you'll get what you want."

He starts biting his lip again in a pathetic attempt to stay quiet, anything that might get you to do what he wants. You gently push him off of you, laying him on his back before sitting in front of him.

You start removing your clothes, leaving your bra and your panties on. He almost jumps at you, his hands instantly moving to your back, trying to unclip your bra. Eventually, when he finally gets it off, he starts grabbing at you. One of his hands moves down to your panties, pulling at the waistband, but not removing them. His other hand starts massaging your soft mound, cherishing the weight of it in his hand.

"Can I..? Is it ok for me to, mistress?" He asks, dipping one finger under the waistband, slightly tugging them down.

You nod your head in approval, watching as he struggles with getting your panties off at first. Instead of letting him go further though, you push him back, touching yourself. He tries to grab your hand to replace it with his own, but you just slap his hand away.

"Why don't you just watch for now? You can do that for me, right Tomura? Surely my little toy can at least give me that much." You say, slipping a finger into your entrance.

He just sits there, not quite sure what to do. His eyes move back and forth between your hand, and your face. Every time he gets close, you just push him back, reminding him that he has to be patient if he wants anything else.

When he's had enough of you, he grabs you and pulls you on his lap. His fingers start trailing down your sides, one of his hands holding you in place. Your protests fall on deaf ears, his thumb already pressing against your clit.

He only stops once your hand once again, wraps around his throat. One good squeeze, and he snaps out of it, immediately pulling his hand away. Pathetic sobs emerge from him, looking down to avoid your gaze.

You start kissing his neck, caressing his cheek. "I told you to wait. You couldn't even give me that much, could you? How sad. Maybe I should go find Dabi, I'm sure he would listen better than you could."

His arms wrap around your waist as he buries his face into your shoulder. Tears start spilling down his face, his voice cracking every other word as he begs you to stay, to give him another chance, he can do better.

You pull his hands off of you, pushing him onto his back, giving him a quick peck. He wraps his legs around your hips, grabbing at whatever he can get his hands on, clinging onto you tightly.

You sit up, crawling over to his chest.

"How about this. If you be a good boy, and actually wait this time, I'll let you have your fun. If you don't, I won't let you do anything." You say, your thumb tracing his collarbone. He nods, staying as still as he can.

You crawl on top of his face, and he pulls you down, his tongue going to work almost instantly. His tongue laps up your juice, taking a quick dip inside of you. Your soft moans only encourage him, his hands moving to grab your thighs as his nose gently nudges against your clit. His thumb starts to work on your clit as his tongue delves inside of you, his grip on you thighs becoming almost bruising.

You try to get up just enough to reposition yourself, only to be pulled back down, his hand moving to your waist. The obscene sounds coming from him mix in with your quiet pants. Your soft praises encouraging him further as you hand grips his hair.

He groans against you, each sloppy lick seems to excite him more than it does for you. His fingers start rolling your clit between them, each noise you make only seems to get covered by his.

You bite your lip, muffling the groans spilling past your lips, though once you reach your limit, it doesn't help one bit. You scream, your grip tightening on his hair as you finish. He doesn't let you up just yet, his tongue licking up everything you have to offer before releasing his hold on your thigh.

You move in front of his cock, spitting on it before giving it a few quick strokes, watching his eyes widen and his mouth open.

"How about you beg? I'm sure a little slut like you would be willing to do that much. My pretty boy just wants to sink his cock into his mistress, don't you?" You tease, running a finger along the length of his cock.

He nods quickly, his eyes shutting tight as his hands grip the bedsheets. You watch his eyes fly open just from the feel of your thighs around his cock. He moves his head up enough to watch you, one of your hands grabbing his shirt as you line up his cock with your slit.

You start sinking onto his cock, biting your lip painfully hard as he starts squirming underneath you, one of his hands moving to grab your hip.

Once you're fully seated on his cock, he starts thrusting his hips up, pathetic whines falling from him. His hold on your hip tightens, trying to hint at what he wants. Soft whimpers emerge from him as drool starts slipping past his lips once more.

One of your hands tangle in his shirt as you start moving, the noise he makes immediately increasing in volume, his eyes trained on nothing but your figure on top of him. His back arches, and his hands turn white from his grip on the bedsheets.

You start increasing your pace, picking up your hips only to slam yourself back down on his cock. His hand moves to your chest, taking one of your breasts into your hand, increasing his grip there instead. Quick I love you's fall from him. You stop, moving his hair out of his face, giving him a quick kiss as he tries to deepen it with no success.

"Do you want me to keep going? If you tell me exactly what you want, I'm sure I'll let you do it." You say, running a hand through his hair.

"I wanna- fuck, I wanna cum inside you! Please! I'm so close, don't you want to be filled up too? Please mistress?" He begs, his eyes starting to water. You can feel his cock twitching in you, and his grip on you increasing.

You pick up your pace again, watching his expression quickly change. He starts panting, squirming underneath you as his fingers dip into your hips, and you're almost certain that there will be bruises there in the morning.

His moans increase in frequency, and he starts getting louder. His legs go weak as his grip loosens again, eyes shut tight as he thrusts his hips up to meet yours before spilling his seed into you.

His panting slows, and his breathing slows again. He pulls his hands off of you, letting you rest on his chest. He nuzzles his face into your neck, peppering kisses along the side of your neck.

You could've sworn you heard him mutter a quiet 'I love you', but he wouldn't admit it anyway.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

While I was standing in line for Sheeps, literally 3 minutes after I hit "post" on the above and put away my phone to get in line, a guy walks by. I don't notice just from seeing him, but then he says something to someone near me and the voice is instantly, extremely distinctively recognizable. I look at his face to confirm, and yep, I'd identified the voice correctly, that's Josh Thomas. Two people from the latest Taskmaster AU season in one day.

About 30 seconds later, while I'm still being amazed about another Taskmaster sighting happening right after I made this post, another man walked by and I swear it was Justin Edwards. I was slightly slower to be sure of that because Justin Edwards isn't performing in Edinburgh this August, so why would it be him? But Lucy Porter's here, so it would make sense. And I have seen every episode of The Thick of It so many times, I know Justin Edwards when I see him, even 15 years later.

Then I saw Sheeps, fucking brilliant, as I expected, in fact exceeded my high expectations. Every sketch was funny, I thought. And I think I remember reading some review of that show that said it was funny unconnected sketches but not enough of a throughline or structure to keep it together. I don't know what show that person watched but it wasn't the one I saw. They had everything. Laughs, themed connections that add up and hit you a bit at a time, some solid employment of emotion. Also Liam Williams' voice is even more gravely in real life than it is in recordings, which I found funny because I was expecting the opposite. Turns out he's not putting it on for TV, he's toning it down (compared to his stage performance voice, that is - I obviously don't know how his regular life voice sounds, though at my current rate of comedian spotting, I'm sure I'll find out tomorrow when I overhear him ordering drinks).

Then after Sheeps, I had a comedian interaction that wasn't a spotting in the wild because he was on stage, but it was an interaction, which hits the same "this is closer than I'm meant to be, in real life, to the face/voice that lives in my laptop/phone" response in my brain. I went to see Dan Rath, who was incredible. If I judge on pure laughs per minute - which is not the only or the best way to judge a comedy show, but it's certainly not a bad quality for a show to have - it might be highest rate of anything I've seen all week. And a lot of them were big laughs. And it wasn't like some shows with that high a ratio - one-liner things that cram in so many punchlines there no room for anything else interesting - it was not that at all. Compelling character, held my attention brilliantly the whole time, great show.

I haven't been writing a lot of detail about the shows themselves, but I write the praise for that show because I worry this might sound bad out of context, and it wasn't, it was fine. I've been going second row in most shows, close enough to the action to get an immersive sensory experience (and not feel too aware of the crowd, I get enough crowds outside this week), far enough to avoid audience participation. But I'm going front row for things that I like based on a particularly intense stage presence, as I think those are more fun up close. I went front row for Dan Rath, obviously.

So at some point, Dan Rath asked me my job. He happened to ask this just after he did his line about - okay I'm never sure exactly what rules are around putting specifics of currently playing shows on the internet, I know you're supposed to avoid it, I also think it's all theoretical principle in my case because no one comedian is going to say "Ah shit that material is burned now because it got read by four people on Tumblr." And I don't think there's an issue around avoiding it for the potential audience's sake, because with such a small sample size I doubt this gets seen by anyone planning to go to the show, also my general view on spoilers is if you don't want to know what happens in a thing, don't read parts of the internet where they talk about that thing.

Okay. That was off topic. The point is that the joke he'd done was recycled from his 2023 show anyway, which has been on YouTube for months now, so that has to be allowed. Some of this show was recycled from that one, which I did not mind because it was all good enough to be worth saying again, and lots was new. So he'd quite recently done his "I'm not worried about the AI taking over - I'm autistic, they'll hire me as an interpreter" line, absolutely good enough to be worth repeating, had also just done some jokes about being so mentally ill he needs a carer (again, I promise it was fine in context), and then asked me what I do for a living. I briefly considered lying because it's too on the nose, but couldn't think that fast, and what if there are follow-up questions? Kitson says to lie and say IT if you get asked this when your job would make a situation weird, but if they ask me about working in IT, I won't know the answers.

So I told him my actual job title, which is autism therapist. And he made good stuff out of that for a while, obviously. Then he asked me how I heard about his show, if I got flyered, and I felt mildly offended by the idea that I would come to this festival so unprepared that I'd just wander into a show based on who happens to hand me some paper ("But at a festival you're supposed to take chances on new..." No you're supposed to meticulously research everything and never deviate from the plan). But I also felt self-conscious about how long this had been about me now, because it makes me cringe unbearably when an audience member tries to make something about them. I absolutely cannot stand listening to an audience member take too long to answer a question, while the comedian tries to subtly hurry them along. I'd rather listen to an audience member heckle something insulting than try to be funny. I'm slightly worried that people might think I was lying about my job to be funny.

So when he asked how I heard about the show, I gave the shortest answer I could think of, "Internet." He asked me to be more specific, I struggled to answer and probably demonstrated some general communication difficulties, which prompted him to ask "Do you have what your clients have?", and I said yes before realizing I think he meant that rhetorically, which made the point. Again, I'd like to emphasize that this was funny and all fine in context.

I finally said I liked his special on YouTube and that's how I heard about the show, he accepted that answer and we got to move on. Only time I got talked to in three days of Edinburgh shows, could have been worse. Two more days to go. I'm writing this in my Air B&B the next morning.

After Dan Rath I was supposed to go see Nish Kumar record a podcast, but I got in my head about how Nish spoke to me very briefly at his preview in London last week, I did go front row at his show in Edinburgh this week and I think he may have recognized me, and after everything else that's happened in the last week, I suddenly got very anxious at appearing creepy for seeing Nish Kumar too many times, so I just went back to the Air B&B. Where I'm now writing this.

Okay, I have to go find something to eat now. Two more days. Seriously, Sheeps were so fucking good that they made me decide I probably do actually like sketch comedy, but not really because most of it isn't as good as that. Hope everyone's having a good week.

Spotting comedians in the wild update:

- Walking down the road, hear someone across the street say the word Taskmaster. Turn around to see who it was, automatically, as though someone at a largely comedy-based festival talking about Taskmaster is any kind of novelty. Realizing after turning that it wasn't worth looking it is not notable that someone here is interested in Taskmaster. Realize a second later that it may have been worth turning, because the person I've overheard discussing Taskmaster with the guy beside him was Tom Cashman. Unfortunately I had to be somewhere and could not eavesdrop further.

- I have now passed Ed Night on the street three times. Every time did a brief double take because I thought it was someone I knew. I'll keep you updated if it happens again.

[cinnaminsvga]

a love that endures | Yoongi

→ summary: 

“Oh come on! Just go say hi to him already,” Seokjin huffs. He wiggles his eyebrows, striking you with the urge to shave them off in retaliation. “I could feel your ‘God, I miss his dick’ vibes from across the room!”

“I do not emit dick thirst vibes,” you respond hotly, swatting him in the tit. You pause, considering. “Wait, but do you think he misses my p—”

“Say no more,” Seokjin interrupts, a wicked smirk gracing his lips. His gaze is fixed somewhere behind you, but you have a sinking suspicion you know why he looks like he’s won the lottery. “Speaking of the devil, look who’s coming over to say hello!”

{or alternatively: Yoongi and Y/N. Y/N and Yoongi. High school sweethearts that were never meant to last, until a reunion ten years later manages to reignite a flame that never quite burnt out.} 

→ genre: high school reunion!au, exes to lovers, fluff, humor, minor angst → warnings: shy!yoongi and shy!oc live rent free in my brain, mutual pining is poggers, hoseok and seokjin aren’t evil for once in a cinnaminsvga fic, implied smut so it’s pg-13 because i’m a wimp → words: 14.4K → a/n: SHE’S ALIVE!! this is dedicated to @himbeaux-joon​ who commissioned this piece ages ago. thank you again for requesting this because this was honestly so much fun to write. i’ve been in a bit of writing slump these past few weeks but this fic came out so easily and got way longer than expected (perhaps because it’s about yoongi and he’s always been the easiest one to write for me). enjoy!! ;o;

The mere sight of him is enough to knock the wind out of you.

Your body freezes, the hand curled around your paper cup filled with punch tightening ever so slightly. It isn’t like you’re surprised that he came; you aren’t supposed to be. Of course, you should have expected his arrival, but you’ve been hoping all night that he might have been too busy to attend.

He isn’t even on time—it has almost been two hours since the event started and you had been filled with a false hope that perhaps he had RSVP’d and decided he couldn’t make it. 

You had seen Hoseok, his best friend from your younger days, standing outside the entrance of the ballroom before they had started letting people in. The moment Hoseok saw you, he immediately came over to sweep you into a tight hug, his infectious laughter ringing in your ears. He had greeted you happily, expressing how much he missed you since high school, but never once bringing up the elephant in the room.

It wasn’t like you were going to bring him up first. No, that would be weird on your part. Nevermind the fact that going to high school reunions was a recipe for reliving past traumas and seeing all your childhood friends either married or pregnant—you weren’t going to be that person who asked where their ex was. You refused to be the person craning their neck to spy on the entrance every two minutes, hoping to catch sight of an old familiar face.

The problem is that you are that person, and you kind of hate yourself for it. However, it is also the reason why you are probably the only person in the entire ballroom who notices his quiet arrival.

He has never liked causing commotions, which is often apparent from the way he conducts himself. He walks into the room just as a loud round of applause breaks out; an old schoolmate of yours is walking up to the podium, probably the person who had arranged the get-together in the first place. It is a perfect distraction for him as he slinks past the door, keeping near the wall so as not to be seen by anyone just yet.

(Except he has been seen—he just doesn’t know it yet.)

You do not know for how long you stare at him, just that it takes you a moment to realize you haven’t taken a breath since he stepped foot into the same space as you. You take a deep, shuddering breath, forcing your racing heartbeat to calm down. You swallow thickly, throat so unbearably dry that even drinking from your lukewarm cup of punch doesn’t seem to do anything.

But the undeniable truth is there, standing only a few meters away from you, and nothing on earth will be able to wash away the nerves flooding through your system.

After ten years of radio silence, Min Yoongi is in your orbit once again.

In the grand scheme of things, ten years wasn’t all that long. Four years in university had passed by in a blur, and the absolute chaos that ensued right after you graduated as you scrambled to secure a job and move out of your hometown had made the days seem shorter than they actually were. You had not even noticed that time was passing until you found that cream envelope waiting for you one day after work, your alma mater’s school crest painfully recognizable even after all these years.

During all that time, the world around you shifted without you noticing, and that meant people were changing too.

Yoongi is 28 now. And so are you, after many months of denial. You have not seen each other since you were both 18—both of you far too young to know about any of the things you would experience in the next ten years.

He might have grown a little taller since then, something you are sure that your brother will find amusing. His hair isn’t dyed like you remembered, as he has opted to keep it his natural dark black that you have not seen since you were both in middle school. It’s styled differently too: combed over and gelled back, with his bangs pushed back and his forehead exposed. When he turns his head to the side, a gasp spills past your lips before you can stop it.

“Is that a fucking undercut?” you mutter in shock, your eyes straining out of their sockets as you try to drink him in. Even under the dim lighting of the ballroom, his new haircut is hard to miss. No one else seems to be undergoing the same mental collapse as you, judging by how everyone’s attention is still fixated on the person speaking at the podium. How the hell is no one else losing their fucking minds to the sight of Min Yoongi with a fucking undercut? Some questions are impossible to answer, you surmise.

When you decided to attend the reunion, you had not once thought about how Yoongi would look like. Somehow, you had developed this stagnant picture of him in your head, even after all these years. To you, he will always be the boy with the stark blonde hair, the mismatched eyelids, the pouty lips, the dumpling cheeks. He is the boy who can’t wear his own contact lenses to save his life, the boy who sometimes wears his favorite leather jacket to sleep, the boy who only drinks Americanos like it was water.

Gone are those days, you realize. That image of him has been smashed to pieces, instead replaced by this dashing (and incredibly hot) man—a stranger. A stranger with unbleached (and healthy) hair, a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. He has his glasses kept away, and there is no leather jacket in sight.

But you can see him, if you look hard enough. The same spark in his eye, the same curve of his lips. You catch him smiling for a second, and his cheeks still puff up like dough. Maybe it’s just hopeless thinking, but you see him. It’s still him. To you, he will always be your 18-year-old Min Yoongi, the one who would greet you with a sweet kiss on the forehead every time you would—

Raucous applause breaks you from your train of thought, and you blink rapidly in surprise. You have to forcibly pull yourself out of your Yoongi-induced trance, clapping alongside everyone without really knowing what was going on. All of the extra noise sounds like buzzing in your ears, especially when it is drowned out by the roar of your blood rushing to your head all at once.

“Once again, I’d like to thank you all for coming tonight. We will begin the program right after dinner, so please feel free to help yourselves to the buffet! Cheers everyone!” You faintly hear your old schoolmate speak, before her voice is quickly overrun by the commotion of people walking over to the extravagant display of food. It takes a moment for the crowd of heads to disperse, so when you can finally look back to where you last saw Yoongi, he is no longer alone.

Hoseok has his arm slung around Yoongi, his infectious laughter loud enough to be heard over clinking plates and silverware. The two are as different as night and day, with Hoseok practically bouncing from excitement and Yoongi rolling his eyes from annoyance. But it is easy to see that his pout is nothing but a ruse; you can already catch the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips.

You feel your own seams breaking, unwittingly sporting a grin of your own. It is nice to know that Yoongi hasn’t been alone all this time, that he still seems close with his old best friend. You cannot count the number of friendships that you have lost over time, and you still grieve many of them during your quiet moments. Alas, it was often never even anyone’s fault, the strains of adulthood often being the biggest deal breakers in your relationships.

That is, of course, except for one.

“Enjoying yourself? I didn’t think we’d share the same voyeuristic tendencies,” says a voice, creeping up behind you. Now, normal people would not usually expect other sane people to invade your personal space and breathe directly into your ear, but that’s just your humble opinion. What you do know is that one certain individual enjoys breaking the mold when it comes to societal norms, and it is none other than…

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You shriek, nearly sucker-punching the offending degenerate in the face. You hold back your fist from connecting with his face, but your resulting irritation remains. Whether that irritation is because you regret holding back or not will unfortunately also have to remain unanswered. “Oh God, it’s you.”

“Oh, no need for that. Most people usually call me Seokjin,” he snickers, thoroughly enjoying your flushed face. Kim Seokjin pats you on the shoulder, his trademark “pretty boy” smile still as radiant as you remembered. It does nothing to quell your urge to raise your fists again, however. “Hello, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here!”

“The feeling is not mutual,” you snort. Much like how Yoongi was with Hoseok, your derision is nothing but a rouse. As much as you want to kick Seokjin in the nuts, you also cannot ignore how much you want to hug him the slimy bastard—but you definitely will not be the first one to admit it. So like the tsundere that you are, you decide to insult him instead. “Why are you here? You’re not even from this class. Don’t you have other things to do? Or rather, people to do?”

“My heart! You wound me,” he gasps, grasping his chest as though he’d been shot. “How could you say that to your best friend in the entire world? Don’t you know how much I missed you?”

“Easy. I do it because the only other alternative would lead me straight to prison,” you shrug, but your grin betrays you.

This time, you don’t jolt away when he closes in for a hug. “And I guess I miss you too,” you say, your words slightly muffled into his chest. Like always, he sees through your prickly act because as much as you like to pretend, Kim Seokjin is kind of amazing—loose bolts and all.

���It’s nice to know that your tongue hasn’t lost its edge, though I suppose I wouldn’t be intimately knowledgeable in that area. After all, I still am very much a raging homosexual and pussy isn’t really my forte,” Seokjin guffaws, his volume causing a few nearby guests to raise their heads in alarm.

You bow at them, sheepishly apologizing on his behalf before grabbing him by the collar.

“Will you stop being embarrassing for just one second? I swear, I thought I retired from my babysitting job when I graduated high school,” you hiss, but the way his mouth curls up with mischief is answer enough. God, you missed this son of a bitch.

“Unfortunately for you, being a pest is part of my DNA,” he smirks, carefully plucking your hands off from his neck, as though your nails were not mere inches away from ripping his trachea into pieces. “Though, I am offended by your assumption that I am still the same slut that you knew. I’ve grown up a little, you know! I’m a changed man!”

“Oh, please. Don’t tell me you of all people have settled down,” you laugh, not missing the way Seokjin’s perfectly stenciled brow raises slightly.

“I know we haven’t seen each other since Christmas, but come on Y/N! You of all people should be applauding me for my improved behavior! You must have noticed how much I changed when I visited.”

“When you visited me last Christmas, you immediately insulted my taste in kitchen towels, went on Grindr to find a hookup despite my numerous pleas, and promptly desecrated my guest bedroom that no housekeeper or priest is willing to exorcise to this day,” you gag, shuddering at the memory. “And then you ate all my ice cream and proceeded to clog my toilet!”

“Um? Aren’t you forgetting that I also bought you that dress you wanted? Rude,” Seokjin retorts, not the least bit remorseful. “Well, that’s what you get for agreeing to be my best bitch for life. You know that I take pinky promises very seriously.”

Unfortunately, he does take his promises seriously. It is probably the only thing he’ll ever be serious about, as much as the man enjoys parading his depravity. “Okay, whatever. I’ll bite. Who’s the unlucky man you’ve managed to deceive into a relationship?”

“Oh, it’s someone we both used to know. I’m his plus one for tonight,” he says, supplying you with the most useless non-answer imaginable.

“Seokjin. We’re at a high school reunion. We know everyone here. That could be anyone!” you exclaim.

“Well, isn’t that fun? Then we can do a scavenger hunt!” Seokjin grins, clapping his hands together excitedly. He pulls you in front of him, forcing the two of you to survey the crowd. “Okay, hold your arm out like this—” After a few seconds of you failing to resist him, he manages to get you to unfurl your finger as if you were about to order something from the dollar menu at McDonalds. Unfortunately for you, the tall twink is stronger than he appears. “—and just keep pointing around until I tell you that you’re getting warmer!”

“Seokjin, I don’t think this is very—” you start, but Seokjin is already moving your arm for you. Like a hurricane, Kim Seokjin listens to no one but his own homewrecking whims.

“Park Chanyeol? Close, but not really. You should know that I don’t double dip with past flings,” he says, shifting you to the left. “Kim Namjoon? Now that’s a hunk of meat that I wish I’d taken a bite of, but unfortunately he’s as straight as a ruler. Pass,” he hums, continuing to move you bit by bit.

You’re both getting uncomfortably close to where Yoongi is, and Seokjin doesn’t appear to be stopping any time soon. You did notice that Yoongi had come dateless to the reunion (a fact, by the way, that you did not rejoice over when you had noticed), but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s single. You have known Seokjin for more than a decade at this point, and despite your odd friendship, you are sure that he would never do anything to hurt you on purpose.

Though, that does beg the question… How far does his dick thirst really go? Maybe you’ll finally find out today.

“Warmer, getting warmer…” Seokjin inches you closer and closer to where Yoongi is standing. You feel frozen in his grasp, unsure if you wanted to know anymore. If Seokjin really is dating Yoongi, then what? It’s not like you were dating him anyway… What difference does it make if it’s Seokjin?

(It makes all the difference, but you refuse to think about it.)

“Nope, not Wonho... A little bit to the left… Bingo!” Seokjin declares, stopping your finger right on— “No, Y/N! Stop moving! You’ve gone too far to the wall! I was pointing at him.”

“H-Hoseok? You’re dating Hoseok?!” You squeak, an avalanche of relief flooding through you. You don’t even have the energy to pretend to be composed as your entire body starts untensing involuntarily, your shoulders slumping as though a weight has been lifted from you. “Why couldn’t you have just told me like a normal person? Why must everything be tortuous and dramatic when it comes to you?”

“I am a naturally insufferable and theatrical person. Sue me,” he shrugs, greatly enjoying the exhausted look on your face. “What? Were you actually scared that I was dating your sloppy seconds? What do you think I am? An asshole?”

You stare at him. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

Seokjin scoffs. “If I wanted to get roasted, I would approach two tops at a gay bar.” He pauses. “Wait, are you seriously not going to congratulate me for finally snagging a boy who has a functioning moral compass?”

“Define ‘snagging.’ Did you, like, tie him up and blackmail him to become your boyfriend like those terrible One Direction Wattpad fanfics, or—” You stop halfway, giggling at your friend’s unamused pout. “Okay, okay. Yes, Seokjin. I am very proud of you. Congrats on finally becoming an adult. Your hoe days are over.”

“Who said they were over?” He snorts. Noticing your alarm, Seokjin rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Oh, don’t give me that look! I’m not into infidelity and you know that. I just meant that I’m still a hoe with significantly fewer options.”

“How did that even happen in the first place?” you say, jabbing your thumb in Hoseok’s direction. Thankfully, the man in question is still busy talking to Yoongi, though you don’t know for how much longer. If Seokjin isn’t lying, then there’s a high chance they’re going to walk over to say hi and you’re not sure if you’re mentally prepared to go through the five stages of grief all over again.

“Believe me, I’m surprised as well. I started dating Hoseok after he asked me for help with his sister’s wedding gift. He asked me to help arrange an itinerary for her sister’s honeymoon in America,” Seokjin explains with a dreamy smile. He sighs, holding a hand up to his chest. You can physically see the heart emojis circling his head like a halo. “We hit it off from there and dare I say… Not only is he the only person who can keep up with my high maintenance lifestyle, but dear Lord, he could totally be recruited into the NDA for his astounding dick game—”

“Ever heard of TMI? Gross,” you interrupt, your face crumpling in disgust. You shove him away when his loud cackles start rattling your eardrums.

“You were scared though, right?” he says through his giggles. “When you thought that I was dating Yoongi?”

Of course Seokjin had noticed your mini-mental breakdown, judging from the shit-eating grin on his face.

“N-no,” you stutter, but your heated cheeks and averted gaze give you away. “E-either way, I wouldn’t have cared if you did!” you say. You know, like a liar.

“I bet you don’t care that Yoongi got significantly hotter in the past ten years too, huh?” Seokjin teases, snickering loudly. Under the harsh lighting of the fluorescent chandelier lights, you might have mistaken the boy in front of you for the devil instead of your best friend of almost twenty years.

“I sincerely rue the day I introduced myself to you in the third grade,” you hiss, sipping from your cup to hide your humiliation.

“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re all embarrassed,” Seokjin coos, pinching your cheeks with the gentleness of an ape. You slap his hand away, unable to think of any retort.

“Cat got your tongue? You didn’t even deny it when I accused you,” Seokjin laughs. He claps his hands jovially, acting as though he’s enjoying a show at the circus. Given your performance tonight, that statement isn’t all that far from reality.

“I don’t need to defend myself from you,” you say, puffing your cheeks indignantly. “I just… think he looks handsome. Is that illegal or something?”

“Certainly not. Though, you might want to dial down the pining a teensy bit,” he singsongs. “That’s how I found you in the first place. I sensed your pining from a mile away and came as soon as I could!”

“I wasn’t pining!” you exclaim. “I was just… admiring the plant beside him.”

“Right, sure,” Seokjin says, arching an eyebrow in challenge. You feel your hackles rising at his smug expression, your ‘Seokjin-is-about-to-ruin-your-life’ alarm ringing in your ears. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I brought you over there to say hello? After all, my boyfriend is over there and as much as I enjoy pestering you, I also want to be with him very much.”

You whistle lowly, impressed. “Wow, that’s actually kind of sweet of you.”

“Yes, I know. Kim Seokjin’s heart grew three sizes that day, yada yada yada.” Seokjin says sarcastically, but his lovesick smile ruins the effect. When he opens his mouth once more, the mirage instantly disappears. “But you would understand if you saw how much he’s packing—”

“Shut up, I didn’t ask—”

“Fine, then let’s ask the man himself! Besides, you know you’re being ridiculous, right?” Seokjin tuts, annoyed. He fixes you with a glare, making you feel like a scolded child. “It’s just Yoongi. You and I both know he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body and probably would love to see you after so long.”

You wave your hands around helplessly, almost sloshing your drink onto a nearby bystander. After muttering a meek apology at your harried classmate, you turn back to Seokjin with a defeated sigh.

You know that he’s right, and you absolutely hate him for it. “Jinnie, I’m a mess! I can hardly think with Yoongi standing meters away from me, much less if he were to stand right in front of me! I’m just going to embarrass myself,” you lament, holding your head in your hand.

“That’s true. You will definitely embarrass yourself,” Seokjin hums, nodding sagely. He shrugs his shoulders. “All the more reason we should do it. Relax, I’ll be your wingman like old times! All we have to do is remind him of all the fantastic, mind-blowing coitus you had in your youth and he’ll be a goner for sure.”

“If by goner, you mean he’ll be gone from my life permanently this time, then you’re right,” you groan. You have a half a mind to dump the remainder of your disgusting punch all over his expensive Bottega Veneta coat, though you also don’t want to spend the next three months receiving packaged turds from Seokjin in your mailbox. “Please, just let me suffer in silence for the remainder of the night, okay? Is that really too much to ask?”

“Oh come on! Just go say hi to him already,” Seokjin huffs. He wiggles his eyebrows, striking you with the urge to shave them off in retaliation. “I could feel your ‘God, I miss his dick’ vibes from across the room!”

“I do not emit dick thirst vibes,” you respond hotly, swatting him in the tit. You pause, considering. “Wait, but do you think he misses my p—”

“Say no more,” Seokjin interrupts, a wicked smirk gracing his lips. His gaze is fixed somewhere behind you, but you have a sinking suspicion you know why he looks like he’s won the lottery. “Speaking of the devil, look of who’s coming over to say hello!”

Swiveling around, you see that your intuition is right: Yoongi and Hoseok are swiftly making their way through the crowd, one of them appearing to be more enthusiastic than the other. You swallow thickly, your palms growing damp as they get closer to where the two of you stand.

"Seokjin, we gotta go!" you hiss, but your panic goes largely ignored as your best friend leaves you to envelop his lover in a dramatic embrace.

The two men exchange teary and heartfelt touches, acting as if they had been separated by years of war instead of the meager minutes they had spent apart to greet their long-time friends.

"My honeybunch! Oh, how I've missed you so much!" Seokjin cries, nuzzling his nose into Hoseok's neck. You might have mistaken him for a vampire with how aggressively he sniffs Hoseok's skin. Had Seokjin been 5% more unhinged, you do not doubt that he might have started suckling on his boyfriend like a leech.

"Oh, hyung. It's barely been an hour, but why does it feel like it has been forever?" Hoseok sighs forlornly, jaw clenching as though he's in pain. He croaks out a sob, lifting Seokjin in the air and spinning him around. "My love, let us never part again!"

You take a few steps away from them, trying to make it apparent to all the bewildered onlookers that you have nothing to do with homosexual Tweedledee and Tweedledum.

"What kind of shitty production is this? I want my money back," you murmur, fake-gagging behind the two of them. The lovesick fools pay no mind to your disgust; in fact, they seem to relish in it. Their efforts double, their theatrical kissy-smoochy sound effects causing goosebumps to form on your arms. "Seriously, I've had enough of this and I've only been forced to witness it for two seconds."

"Tell me about it," says a voice to your left. Startled, you nearly let out a shocked gasp when you realize that Yoongi had found his way by your side, his own disgusted gaze fixed on the bumbling buffoons still lost in their world. He glances at you for a second, quirking his lips into a small smile. "Hey, Y/N."

In just six words, Min Yoongi manages to make time grind to a halt. You gape at him, your brain ceasing in function. It takes you a full minute to realize that the man standing beside you is not a figment of your imagination. You had been so caught up in the absurdity of the situation that for a moment you had forgotten that Yoongi is a real person.

It's Yoongi, your first love. The person you haven't seen or spoken to in years. The man who has haunted your dreams for over a decade. He's standing right beside you, and he's smiling at you. He's here, he's hot, and he's saying hello.

Like the incredibly eloquent and profound person that you are, you reply: "Yellow!"

You had meant to say "Yoongi, hello!" like a normal person, but your brain had amalgamated your words during its rebooting process. And so, you are left standing there silently, frozen by your embarrassment. You swear you can hear a pin drop as you beg for the earth to swallow you whole.

Unfortunately for you, the floor remains painfully tangible beneath your feet, forcing you to clear your throat and expound on your mystifying exclamation. Yoongi watches you with curious eyes, patiently waiting for you to speak.

"W-what I meant to say is, uh," you stammer, your cheeks heating up to an alarming degree. "Those yellow streamers are pretty tacky, don't you think?"

Nice one. In terms of comebacks, you would personally give yourself a C for effort. (Note: C stands for "Can I please shove a fist up my ass and crabwalk the fuck out of here?")

Yoongi contemplates the tacky decorations in question, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I guess. They pretty much look like the stuff we'd make in elementary school during Arts and Crafts." He points to your mutual friends, grimacing in annoyance. "Them, on the other hand? No child should ever come into contact with those heathens."

"You're right," you snort, shaking your head.

There is a long and awkward pause. Yoongi clears his throat, swaying from side to side while staring at his shoes. You aren't any better, twiddling your thumbs as you will your cheeks to stop flushing. Your senses are practically screaming at you to run away and hide forever, but your limbs feel disjointed from the rest of you.

It's like we're at the zoo on a date and the monkeys won't stop fucking each other, your mind unhelpfully supplies, offering you an image that will permanently make its home on the backs of your eyelids.

Desperate to break the silence, eventually you say, "Hey, Yoongi—"

Right at the same time, Yoongi says, "Hey, Y/N—"

Another pause, but this one is slightly less tense. The two of you share a nervous laugh, though yours sounds a little bit more hysterical. You motion for him to speak first.

"I, uh... wanted to say that you look great. Yeah. Like, you haven't aged a day at all. N-not to say that I don't think you've matured or..." Yoongi stumbles over his words, his voice cracking.

Instead of feeling relieved that he's just as nervous as you, his anxiety only exacerbates your own. There's a reason you have never been good at public speaking, and this is a good example of why:

"No! I get what you mean, don't worry about it," you laugh, on the verge of a mental breakdown. What the fuck is this conversation, even? "You look exactly the same too. Umm... Of course, except for the, uh, hair?"

"Oh, you mean the gray hairs?"

"No, no! Of course not! I m-meant your hair looks really hot—I mean good! It looks GOOD," you repeat, frantically emphasizing the last bit. You had instinctively panicked, your voice rising in pitch.  If your cheeks weren't flaming hot already, then they're definitely redder than Seokjin's ass after a Friday night of fun.

The apples of Yoongi's cheek match your own flustered state, though you can imagine that you’re probably at least a hundred times worse. “Well, thank you. I was actually feeling self-conscious about my hair, so hearing that from you is really… nice,” he says, brushing his hair shyly. “I’m kinda done with bright colored hair for now, so seeing my hair in its natural state is still kind of weird.”

“I seriously doubt that Y/N was talking about your hair color, Yoongi,” Hoseok interjects, magically reappearing behind you when you don’t notice. You flinch in surprise, causing him to let out a hearty chuckle at your jumpiness. It seems that today is “Let’s scare the living shit out of Y/N” day with how many people have crept up on you in just one night.

Beside him, Seokjin looks like a bomb ready to explode, his fist jammed up his mouth to keep his guffaws from slipping out. “God, this is even better than the cringe compilations I watch on Youtube,” he wheezes, wiping a stray tear.

“Don’t be so mean to them, hyung! Don’t mind him,” Hoseok says to you, bowing apologetically. He smiles cherubically at Yoongi. “See, Yoongi? I told you that Y/N is even hotter up close!”

“God, fucking kill me,” you hear Yoongi groan.

“So, have you guys caught up yet, or have you just been fumbling around each other like a couple of horny teenagers?” Seokjin snickers, narrowly avoiding your heel stomping his foot.

“We’ve only just said hello. Leave us alone, jackass,” you huff.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Well, Hoseok and I can go on our merry ways if you wish—”

“Yoongi! Did you tell Y/N about your work back in Seoul? I bet she’d love to hear about it,” Hoseok interrupts smoothly, saving you from further embarrassment (courtesy of his infuriating goblin of a boyfriend.)

You blink in surprise, turning to the man in question. “You live in Seoul now? Did you move there after finishing university?” you ask.

“Well,” Yoongi starts, clearing his throat. He’s permanently pink at this point, not that you mind in the slightest. He always did have the cutest blush (and once upon a time, you used to love teasing him about it.) “I sort of dropped out of university early. Decided it wasn’t really my thing, you know?”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Yoongi. You were a fantastic student. I’m sure Y/N remembers how smart you are,” Hoseok says, winking inconspicuously at you.

You force out a laugh in response. You know perfectly well what he was trying to do; Hoseok isn’t slick in the slightest, though you do admit that you are intrigued to find out what Yoongi had done over the years.

It isn’t like you haven’t been keeping tabs on him. In your defense, it’s hard to stay away from news about Yoongi when he’s such a big deal. So what if you’ve watched a couple of his interviews and streamed all of his songs? He’s always been talented with music, and all the radio shows seem to agree. You couldn’t get away from him if you tried (and it’s not like you were trying very hard, anyway.)

Yoongi shrugs, rubbing his neck bashfully. “E-either way, I decided to tough it out, you know? Follow my dreams and all that, even if it nearly killed me.”

“And now, he’s working in a famous idol company as one of their head producers,” Hoseok finishes for him, chest puffing up in pride. He slaps his best friend on the back, not noticing that he had inadvertently caused Yoongi's spine to cave in from his strength. “Yoongi is so cool, and humble too! He’s been working behind the scenes for a bunch of big names and never got greedy for attention even though he totally deserves it.”

“Damn, so no street cred? Bit schewpid, innit? Imagine all the chicks you could’ve landed, bruv!” Seokjin says, imitating a terrible British accent. You make a move to hit him in the groin, but for once, Hoseok beats you to the punch.

“Nope! Yoongi-chi is super single, aren’t you?” Hoseok says with a sweet grin, ignoring the pained groans of his lover on the floor.

“No need to rub it in, Seok-ah,” Yoongi grumbles defensively. He coughs into his fist, grinding his foot into the floor. He throws a glance your way. “Just been… too busy, I guess.”

From the floor, Seokjin holds up a hand, grasping at Hoseok’s pant leg to hoist himself up. “What a coincidence. Y/N is super single too. In fact, her pussy is so dry that there’d be no chance for any yeast infections to develop—WAIT, DON’T HIT ME AGAIN I PROMISE I’LL BEHAVE!” Seokjin is on his knees, holding his arms up in surrender as Hoseok’s boot is about to connect with his stomach.

“I know I said I was into BDSM, but not like this!” Seokjin says, faking a sob.

“Then behave, darling,” Hoseok replies, eyes lighting dangerously. When he returns his attention to you, you and Yoongi back away instinctively. “Sorry about him. We have an… arrangement,” he says, waving his hands vaguely.

“Understood,” you both say, not understanding but also not wanting to.

Seokjin manages to straighten up eventually, his skin slightly paler than it was before. “A-as I was saying,” he exhales, still gingerly cupping his crotch. “Y/N has been single for so long, but I don’t blame her. Not after that awful disaster of a boyfriend, right? God, Sungjae fucking sucked ass, and not even in the sexy way.”

“Um, yeah…” you say hesitantly, avoiding eye contact. You can feel Hoseok’s and Yoongi’s eyes trained on you, but you’re not confident enough to know that you can keep your face neutral.

With your gaze averted, you don’t notice the way Yoongi’s posture tenses. “Is that so,” he says carefully.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Hoseok says. You can hear the genuine sadness in his tone, and you chance a peek at him. He pats your shoulder gently, giving you a soft smile. “Honestly, I feel you. I’ve definitely been there, done that. That’s why I’m grateful for Seokjin-hyung, believe it or not. He’s been really good for me.”

“Hah, I told you I’m a good person!” Seokjin says. Again, he goes ignored.

“It’s fine. It’s all water under the bridge,” you say, shrugging. You can still feel Yoongi’s persistent gaze on the side of your head like a brand. You’re kind of afraid to see what sort of expression he has despite the curiosity burning inside of you.

You are still in the middle of debating if it’s worth explaining or not (and to a lesser extent, why you feel like you need to explain yourself to anyone), everyone’s attention is caught by the onslaught of waiters bringing in a fresh batch of food to the buffet. Your stomach growls in response, and you are reminded of the fact that you haven’t eaten since breakfast in preparation for tonight’s event.

“Hold that thought, Y/N,” Hoseok says, holding up a finger. “Hyung! I saw a platter of tuna belly and I know that shit is gonna disappear in two seconds. Let’s head out!” He tugs Seokjin in a hurry, the elder’s gangly legs flying about as he trips over himself to keep up. Seokjin yelps and hollers for him to slow down, but the hangry Hoseok train stops for no one. They run off, leaving Hoseok-and-Seokjin-shaped dust clouds in their wakes.

“Wow,” Yoongi says, dumbfounded. “Did we just get ditched by our two self-proclaimed best friends in the world?”

You nod, equally dumbfounded. “I guess we did.”

He shakes his head. “Fucking traitors.”

And just like that, the conversation dies.

Without your friends acting as buffers, the pair of you return to your painfully awkward states. You rack your brain for a conversation topic, anything to keep the tension at bay. You don’t feel nearly comfortable enough to ask him about his love life, even though you want nothing more than to shake the details right out of him. For perfectly sane reasons, of course.

Lucky for you, Yoongi thinks of a solution. “Um, I guess we should go grab our food as well? I’m assuming we’ll be sitting together since our friends are... you know. Unless you don’t want to, then that’s also perfectly fine with me. I can find somewhere else to sit.”

“I’d love to sit with you,” you say, cringing at your choice of words. Love to? What are you, desperate?! your brain screeches at you, and you mentally beat yourself in the coochie.

Deep down, you know that you’re overreacting, but you can’t help acting like a blushy teenager talking to your crush when you’re around Yoongi. It’s almost as if you’ve reverted to your high school days, back when you’d both started to notice your feelings for each other and the steady flow of butterflies erupting in your stomach had felt less like a burden and more like a revelation.

After tossing your disgusting drink into a nearby bin, you and Yoongi line up behind the rest of your classmates for the buffet, the scene reminiscent of having lunch at your old high school cafeteria. You’re still mildly distracted by Yoongi’s proximity, not looking at what food you were getting and randomly scooping and hoping you don’t dislike all of them.

From the corner of your eye, you notice that Yoongi’s plate is steadily piling up, probably with enough food to feed two people. You’ve never known Yoongi to be much of a heavy eater, but you suppose that free food is still free food at the end of the day.

“So,” Yoongi says after a beat. He pulls you from your trance, and you catch the small smile on his face that tells you that he figured you had been distracted. “How is Jungkook, by the way? He graduated from university a year ago or something, right?”

You pause, your hand stilling on the metal tongs. “How did you know he graduated last year?”

He shrugs. “Well, assuming that he didn’t take any gap years, I did the math and figured he should be at the age where he’s looking for a job.” He turns to you with a sly grin. “Plus, I’m still his friend on Facebook.”

“That’s surprising,” you comment. You backtrack a little, “And I mean it’s surprising in the sense that… All his posts are reshares from dank meme pages and I thought you wouldn’t be into that.”

Yoongi laughs. “I’m not. But… it’s nice to know how things are back home, I guess.”

Do you wonder about me, too? you think, but you internally shake your head. But why would he? He doesn’t owe you anything.

“And your dad? I heard he got hip surgery last fall,” Yoongi says.

“Wait, Jungkook has been posting about our dad’s surgery on his Facebook?”

“Oh! No, not exactly.” Yoongi clears his throat, suddenly nervous. He heaps a big portion of kimchi, some of it staining his sleeve. “I… called him a few days ago, to catch up.”

You’re staring at him, and you dimly register the people lined up behind you huffing impatiently. “You… called him? You have his cell number, too?”

“No, I just… happen to still have your home telephone number memorized and hoped that you guys hadn’t moved,” he says, a little guiltily.

You’re silent for a moment, thoughtlessly scooping more bean sprouts onto your plate than any sane person would be comfortable eating. The two of you inch along the buffet display as you attempt to process his sudden confession.

On one hand, you’re slightly betrayed that your own brother hadn’t thought to mention that your ex had called him, but on the other hand, what would you have done if he did? Ask if you could say hello? The Y/N from last month probably would have laughed if she had known that Min Yoongi still cared enough to call and check on her family, much less have her landline memorized even after all these years.

He still cared.

Unbeknownst to everyone in the room, your heart skips a beat at the thought. You cradle a hand to your chest, urging your nerves to quell. Keep it together, you beg your stupid, naive heart. You can survive one night without falling in love again, can’t you?

...can you?

“I…” you stammer. You swallow thickly, desperate for something to say, anything to stop your mind from going in the wrong direction. “They miss you, you know? You have no idea how many times my parents ask if you’re coming home for Christmas, or—I don’t know.”

“Yeah, my parents are the same. They always wanna know if I’m coming home for the holidays, and they,” he hesitates, swallowing thickly, “They always ask about you, too.”

Oh.

“Oh,” you mutter lamely. Your cheeks feel like they’ve been lit on fire the moment you got here, and you haven’t even visited the bar yet.

You finally make it to the end of the long buffet table where there is a large chocolate fountain just begging for you to ravage if only your stomach wasn’t besieged by butterflies. Yoongi glances at you, his own hands too full to get any desserts, but he still pauses as if he’s waiting for you. When you make it apparent you aren’t interested in the mouthwatering cakes and pastries (a big fat lie, but you also don’t want to vomit in front of him and your hundreds of schoolmates), he raises a brow as though he’s surprised.

“What? I’m not that much of a sweet tooth,” you scoff.

“This is coming from the girl who broke into her little brother’s piggy bank to buy some ice cream from a passing street vendor?” he teases.

“That’s the old me. Now, I make enough money to buy my own sweets,” you say smugly.

He rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say.” If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought he looked endeared.

The pair of you search for Hoseok and Seokjin, only to find that the couple had somehow found a table for all of you somewhere near the back. With one last longing glance at the wondrous chocolate fountain, you walk away with Yoongi in tow. You have to push through throngs of people, a few old familiar faces stopping to say hello before they notice the precarious situation on Yoongi’s plate and let you through. You wave at them, promising to greet them later before turning to Yoongi.

“Isn’t it kind of weird to see all these people again? Not gonna lie, it’s almost hard to recognize a few of them.” You note some of the crazy hair colors and drastic fashion choices that you never thought you’d see a decade ago. An even stranger sight, however, is the occasional schoolmates with little ones attached to their hips. You recognize one of the new parents, your mouth dropping in shock.

“Wait, is that Seulgi? And is that her—”

“Her son? Jesus Christ,” Yoongi mutters, equally as bewildered as you. “Damn, I did not expect her of all people to be one of the first to have a kid. I’d always thought it’d be Sooyoung.”

You nod in agreement. You observe the little boy tug roughly at her skirt, his tiny fists making grabbing motions at the cookies on her plate. “Yeah. I always thought I’d have a kid before Seulgi, at least. What a surprise.”

You speak before you think, and it takes longer than it should have for you to realize your mistake. By then, Yoongi’s expression had already morphed into astonishment, his eyes bugging out as he chokes on his spit.

Your cheeks are burning, your mouth opening and closing as pure panic seizes you. You cannot believe that you just said that! No fucking way! Did you eat lube this morning or something? Why are words just spilling out of your mouth at an unprecedented rate?! You’re begging your brain to come up with something, anything, to control the damage, but alas your thoughts remain resolutely frozen.

If aliens were to choose to study the human race right now, they’d be sorely disappointed to find the lack of intelligent lifeforms. No complex thoughts going on over here! Not one goddamn neuron firing in this bitch!

“O-oh, well, that’s…” he trails off. He clears his throat, his jaw clenched as he awkwardly tries to feign composure. “I didn’t know you were, um, interested? Well, n-not that I think you were averse to the idea of having kids, since I remember you mentioning it when we were, um,” he pauses, struggling to find a word other than dating, or together, or in love, or not painstakingly careful around each other, like every conversation topic was a fucking minefield.

“Younger?” you supply. A safe, neutral word. Yay for you! You deserve a snack from your animal care keeper right about now.

“Right,” he nods. He looks down at his shoes, revealing his flushed neck. He’s frustratingly adorable like this, but it does nothing except distract you. “Were you, um, planning on having a kid with your ex-boyfriend? Before you broke up?”

Ex-boyfriend? Why is he bringing him up all of a sudden? You stare at him in confusion for half a second before realization strikes you. Thankfully (or unthankfully), it seems that Yoongi misunderstands the implication behind your words and has taken your little slip-up the wrong way. For once, you are so thankful that Yoongi almost failed Math during the 10th grade and never learned to put two and two together.

“Definitely not,” you bark out a laugh, but it sounds incredibly forced, even to your own ears. You stare at the plate of food in your hands, a wave of unpleasant memories washing over you. “I doubt he’d ever want kids, anyway. Seokjin used to make fun of him and call him the world’s biggest toddler.”

Yoongi winces, his brow furrowing. “How long were you together?”

“Like, two years?” You shrug. “It felt longer, to be honest. Even if we dated for so long, I could never imagine myself having a family with him,” you say.

It was almost the truth, but not quite. While your ex-boyfriend had undoubtedly been a pain in your ass, he wasn’t completely bad, especially in the beginning. You had enough self-respect that you would have ended the relationship earlier if he didn’t have any redeeming qualities. The main problem was that he had a tough act to follow, and you don’t think any man on earth would be able to live up to your lofty expectations at this point, not when you’d constantly be comparing everyone to—

Yoongi speaks up again. “Seokjin seems to really dislike him. Was he really that bad?”

“Seokjin has never really liked any of my past flings,” you admit, rolling your eyes. (You fail to mention that Yoongi has always been the only exception.) “Despite his own disgustingly high body count, I can’t say he was wrong. Sungjae was a self-centered prick who never gave me the time of day. Hell, I was almost thankful when I caught him cheating. It was the final push I needed.”

Even though it’s been so long, the pain of seeing your ex-boyfriend locking lips with a stranger he had randomly picked up from the street still throbs inside of you. It wasn’t like you were particularly sad or surprised to find out, but you’d always been a bit sensitive to people who kept secrets from you. Plus, it kinda sucked to know that they had fucked on your favorite Egyptian cotton sheets.

“Fucking bastard. If I ever saw him in person, I’d definitely kick his nuts ‘til he’s left with a concave crotch,” he seethes, eyes narrowing.

You laugh. You have to confess that the mental image is satisfying. “You don’t even know what he looks like though!”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m sure Seokjin would tell me if I asked,” he huffs. He mutters something else after, but his volume drops to a whisper and you have to step closer to properly hear him.

“What? Sorry, I missed that,” you say, but you could have sworn he said something like “I wouldn’t have done that if it were me” but you couldn’t be completely sure.

“N-nothing,” he stutters, waving off your confusion. He tacks on a smile, but you can tell that he must have been embarrassed by whatever he’d said. If it was anything like what you thought he’d said, then you could understand. It wasn’t like he was wrong, anyway.

He makes a move to rub the back of his neck, but he greatly underestimates the weight of his platter and nearly drops everything. Something deep inside of you kicks in, and your body instinctively moves to hold his plate with your free hand, saving him from a very messy situation. However, that also means that your hands are now touching each other, your fingertips grazing his knuckles.

Instead of letting him go like a normal person, your ape brain makes the first move (as per usual).

“Your hands are still cold,” you say dumbly. You had wanted to say more, like “your hands are still as cold as they were from when we were younger,” but bringing up your past together, even for something so harmless, still feels taboo. You keep your hands where they are, your eyes locked on his. It feels like you’re in the middle of a dramatic TV show while I Will Go To You by Ailee plays in the background. You can almost imagine the numerous ads for random Korean cosmetic products framing the two of you in slow motion.

Yoongi chuckles, reluctantly pulling away from you. You already miss the sensation of his skin on yours. “I guess some things never change, huh?” he says, wavering slightly. He stares at you for another moment before shaking his head, as though he’s pushing away some unwelcome thoughts. He turns away, leaving you behind to make his way to your table.

Despite the unbidden emotions bubbling up your throat and threatening to spill over, you have no choice but to follow.

At the table, Seokjin and Hoseok speak mutely with each other, though the exaggerated expressions on both their faces tell you that they had been in the middle of an argument. When Yoongi takes his place beside Hoseok, the couple pauses in their bickering to greet you.

Hoseok looks at Yoongi’s overflowing plate. “Dude. I know I teased you about being a skinny twig a while ago, but I wasn’t implying that you gorge yourself.”

Yoongi jolts in surprise before staring back at his plate. Weirdly enough, he looks just as shocked as Hoseok to find the amount of food he had gotten, as though he hadn’t even noticed.

Perhaps he was just as distracted as you had been? you think, staring at your own meager pickings. Oops, you definitely didn’t get enough food to fill your ravenous appetite.

“That’s fine. I can share with you guys,” Yoongi says.

Seokjin peers at your plate, smirking knowingly. “Oh, yes. I’m sure Y/N would love to get some of your food. It seems like the two of you either over or underestimated how much you’d eat.”

“Aww, cute!” Hoseok coos, pinching Yoongi’s cheek. “You still have the habit of getting food for her. That’s so sweet that you still remember that about her!”

You had been in the middle of taking a swig of your water, but Hoseok’s comment nearly causes it to spew out from your nose. You cough harshly, beating your chest as your nose burns, among other things.

“Hoseok!” Yoongi scolds. He hits his friend on the shoulder, but Hoseok’s giggles refuse to stop.

“Oh shit, you’re totally right! Remember all those times when either one of us was forced to third-wheel with them?” Seokjin guffaws. “Y/N always orders something gross whenever we eat out together, and Yoongi ends up having to share half of his food with her when she starts moping.”

“I did not mope!” you retort vehemently.

“You kind of did,” Yoongi mutters under his breath, but you catch him this time.

You cross your arms, scowling. “Did not!”

Yoongi covers his mouth to fake a cough, but you can tell he’s smiling from how his eyes start to crinkle.

“You guys are so cute,” Hoseok sighs, squeezing Yoongi into a hug. Yoongi paws at him weakly, but you know that he enjoys skinship too much to push his friend away.  Still, he pouts cutely, his cheeks puffing up like a pastry.

“Anyway, why were you guys arguing a while ago?” Yoongi asks, changing the subject. “Seokjin-hyung is kinda red in the face.”

“Oh, we weren’t really arguing. Hyung had gotten some wine from the bar but he forgot to get me some,” Hoseok says. He glares sharply at Seokjin. “Bastard.”

“You just said we weren’t fighting!” Seokjin whines. He stands up, raising his arms in surrender. “But fine! I’ll go get your damn wine,” he sulks, groaning when he stretches his back and a few worrisome pops resound from his joints.

“Damn, hyung. I know I told you that I hope you grow up well when we were kids, but I didn’t think you’d take it that literally,” Yoongi jokes, earning a sharp laugh from you. Yoongi glances at you then, visibly proud when he catches the wide grin on your face.

Seokjin gasps, offended. “I am not old! I’m literally a year older than you guys! And here I was, about to get you both drinks as well! It sucks to be the nice one in a friend group,” he sniffs.

“Yes, we are eternally grateful for your service,” Hoseok says sarcastically. “Oh, and remember to get some drinks for Y/N and Yoongi-chi too!” Hoseok adds, slamming his palm on Seokjin’s sore back.

Seokjin yelps, before biting his lip. “Owwie, that hurt,” he moans, winking salaciously.

As the closest person to him, you make it your right to jam your heeled foot onto his gelatinous and push away with a shout of disgust. “Leave, wench!” you snarl, but you’re unfortunately drowned out by his cackling. Even so, he does make his leave, affording your table some level of peace.

“So,” Hoseok starts, a twinkle of mischief in his eye. He cradles his chin with his hands, smiling innocuously at the two of you. “How’s it goin’? Are you both having fun?” he says, laced with meaning.

Ah, you had forgotten; peace was never an option.

Though he is undoubtedly less annoying than Seokjin, you still don’t trust the way he’s staring at you, like he’s waiting for one of you to jump into the other’s lap and recreate his favorite porn scene.

(A terrible thought to have, especially when you’d probably be as begrudging as you should be if you were swayed sufficiently.)

“It’s going fine, thank you very much,” Yoongi responds, giving his best friend a stern look.

You nod wordlessly, unable to trust yourself to keep from stammering and making your frayed nerves apparent (if they aren’t already.) You grab your glass and busy yourself with your drink to delay answering.

You don’t notice that you had taken Yoongi’s cup by accident until you’ve already gulped a third of his water, dropping it with a loud clunk. “Oh shit, sorry! I didn’t mean to drink from yours,” you say sheepishly.

Yoongi smiles at your concern. “No worries. It’s just a cup.”

“Sharing cups too? Damn, what happened while Seokjin and I were away?” Hoseok laughs. Yoongi flicks him lightly on the wrist in retaliation.

“It’s just a cup,” he repeats before turning to you. “Sorry, I think he’s a bit drunk.”

“Haven’t had a single drop of alcohol but whatever,” Hoseok says, shoveling a large piece of tuna belly into his mouth.

The sight of him eating reminds you of your own hunger, your food slightly colder now after talking to Yoongi and your friends for so long. You take a spoonful of chicken, the taste not terrible but not as good as you would like. Your face must give your disappointment away because you hear Yoongi chuckling beside you.

“Bad food again? Guess you really are the same,” Yoongi says, low enough that Hoseok wouldn’t hear. He pushes his plate towards you, carefully nudging some of his bulgogi onto yours. “This tastes kind of sweet, so I’m not really into it. But you prefer it sweeter right?”

All you can do is nod in agreement, watching as he piles your plate with his food. His sleeves, which had already been stained previously by some stray bits of kimchi, become even more saturated with sauces and oils. Now that you see it up close, his sleeves seem a bit too long for him, his palms half covered like sweater paws.  

Without thinking too hard, you place your hands over Yoongi’s wrists, his entire body freezing as he waits for what you will do. Gently, as though you’re approaching a frightened kitten, you fold his sleeves until they’re no longer dangling into his food. The gesture is more intimate than you had intended, his proximity allowing you to smell the familiar fragrance of his cologne.

Paco Rabanne, your mind reminds you. Of course.

You pull away, trying your best to appear as unfazed as possible. You clench your hands and dig your nails into your skin to keep them from trembling. “If I’m the same, you’re no better. You always used to forget to pull back your sleeves before eating.”

After a beat, Yoongi returns from his stupor, licking his lips. “My hands were cold,” he explains.

“I know.” You lick your lips too, suddenly parched despite all the water you have drunk.

A forgotten treasure trove of memories resurrects inside of you, things that you had thought had been buried too deep for you to find again. You are filled with this odd feeling, an awareness. An old wound has resurfaced, one that you thought had healed long ago.

That wound throbs, still.

It’s so strange, being with him like this. A piece of your past that has come to your present, both the same and different as you remember. He knows parts of you that no one else will, as do you with him. But those parts were only ever supposed to stay buried: memories, after all, aren’t supposed to be tangible.

And yet, here he stands: real, alive, close.

It leaves you feeling emptier than before.

The atmosphere grows somber after that, neither of you offering much to the conversation. Hoseok is more than happy to pick up the slack, filling the stark silence along with the occasional hums from Yoongi. When Seokjin returns, he makes no note of the change in mood and focuses more on eating and talking with his partner. It allows the two of you to remain deep in thought.

You are pushing your remaining bits of food around your plate when the soft instrumental music playing on the overhead speaker stops abruptly, and the sound of a microphone being tapped prompts everyone to turn to the front of the ballroom. The host of the event announces that the next part of the reunion will begin shortly and encourages all the performers to head to the sound booth to prepare. A couple of your schoolmates rise from their seats, most of whom were the students you remembered being part of choir or band.

You half-expect Yoongi to stand up as well, but he stays rooted to the spot. Apparently, Hoseok is wondering the same thing.

“Yoongi? Didn’t you say that the organizers asked you to perform some of your songs?” Hoseok questions.

“They did.”

“But?”

Yoongi brings his fingers to his teeth, biting on them anxiously. Your hand makes a move to pull them away, but you think better of it. No need to supply your friends with more teasing ammunition. “But I changed my mind last minute. I felt kind of embarrassed to be performing my own songs. I’m more of a producer, not a performer.”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Yoongi. You’re poggers, as the kids like to say,” Seokjin pipes up.

“I wouldn’t put it like that, but he’s right. A lot of people like your music and think you’re a great performer,” you assure him. “And I like your music, too,” you add shyly.

Yoongi’s hand drops from his mouth, eyes glittering with disbelief. He looks like he wants to disagree with you, but eventually decides to just smile in gratitude. “I didn’t know you listened to my music,” he says quietly.

Before you can reply, Seokjin chooses to interrupt with his migraine-inducing cackle and ruin the moment (as he is prone to do.) “Oh bitch! If you only knew how much this girl loves your music. She even buys your physical CDs AND collects your photocards.”

“I do not!” You scream, flinging a piece of bread at his head. You refuse to peek at Yoongi.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I collect his photocards too. Wanna trade sometime? I’m missing the one when he still had mint hair,” Hoseok giggles.

“Will the two of you stop? God, it’s like you both had been planning to embarrass us as much as possible,” Yoongi exclaims, incensed.

When neither of them responds, you and Yoongi whip your heads towards them only to find two self-satisfied, smirking shitheads.

“Why watch reality shows when you can make your own?” Seokjin says in lieu of an answer, pointing finger guns. He blows you a kiss with a wink.

You clutch your chest, pretending to wince in pain. “Augh! Poison damage!”

Seokjin scoffs. “Swagever, man. You’re just mad because you’re angry,” he retorts, sticking out his tongue.

While you were occupied bickering with Seokjin, you had not seen that one of your old schoolmates had invited herself to your table. She sandwiches herself in the space between you and Yoongi, bumping you roughly enough to topple you out of your chair.

“What the fuck?” you yelp in surprise, holding onto the table to balance yourself. After straightening back into your seat, you find that your view of the world has become obscured by asscheeks the size of beachballs.

“Hi Yoongi,” she purrs seductively. Or at least, what she thinks is seductive. To you, her voice sounds like nails grating on a chalkboard.

“Hello?” Yoongi says, but it comes out sounding more like a question. It’s clear that he doesn’t remember her name, as he searches your eyes for help. You shrug unhelpfully; you deleted almost all the names of everyone that you had gone to school with right after graduation. Besides, her horrendous plastic surgery makes it even twice as hard to discern her identity.

“Hi Hyejin,” Hoseok speaks up, answering your unspoken question. Oh, right. The name does ring a bell, somewhat. You don’t recall her looking like a cartoon character before, but you suppose beauty standards are meant to be subjective. Maybe she wanted to look like a One Piece character.

Hyejin purses her lips into a tight smile but doesn’t return his greeting. She turns back to Yoongi, bending forward until her boobs are practically smooshed against his face. You wonder idly if stabbing her chest with your chopsticks would cause them to burst like a balloon, or perhaps drain like a puss-filled pimple. Both, you surmise, would be very entertaining to watch.

“It’s been a while since we’ve last seen each other, hm? I heard you’ve been very busy ever since we graduated from high school,” she says, batting her eyelashes.

“Uh, yeah? Some of us have jobs,” he says, passively dissing her. You let out a strangled laugh, causing Hyejin to aim a glare back at you. You bring your (his) cup of water to your lips, feigning innocence.

Hyejin rolls her eyes. “Right. But I meant that you’ve become a real star back in Seoul! I didn’t know you were such a musical prodigy!”

“I’m really not. I just work hard,” he shrugs. He’s visibly uncomfortable, especially since Hyejin was pretty much breathing the same air as him. Every time he leans away from her, she takes it as an invitation to come closer. He is nearly lying horizontally at this point, his back parallel with the floor.

“Humble as well as handsome? My, my. I didn’t think you’d be such a charmer,” she laughs, saccharine sweet. She twirls her dyed brown hair with her perfectly manicured acrylic nails. You rub at the goosebumps forming on your arms, cringing at the phantom sensation of her nails digging into your skin.

“Just spit it out. What the hell do you want so you can leave,” Seokjin interjects. Everything about his demeanor says calm and collected, but the way he presses his lips into a thin line says otherwise. You can sense the air dropping in temperature, despite the embers burning behind his eyes.

“I came over here to ask if Yoongi could give me his autograph, that’s all. I am his biggest fan, after all,” she sulks. She winks at him for extra measure. “And maybe his number too? I’d love to discuss your music with you sometime!”

“Oh, um. That’s—” he cuts off, hesitant to answer. He tugs at his ears nervously, exchanging subtly alarmed glances with you.

You remember that signal very distinctly; it’s a distress call that he would do whenever he needed a way out. He used to do it a lot when you were at social gatherings, especially when people would trap him in boring or awkward conversations. He never did like socializing with people outside his circle, but he was often dragged to parties by his more extroverted friends.

He might be hot as hell with his stylish clothes and jaw-dropping undercut, but he’s still awkward as hell around strangers. When the universe created him, they made sure to keep everything in balance. If they hadn’t been fair, you certainly would’ve died much earlier.

“Yoongi, don’t you have spare CDs of your music?” you quip, dragging Hyejin’s attention onto you. Her eyes narrow imperceptibly, suspicious.

“I do?” He stares at you blankly.

You resist hitting your forehead in exasperation. “Yes, Yoongi. Remember? You left a couple of them in my car.”

Yoongi’s eyes light up in understanding. “Oh, right! I left my CDs. In your car. That we drove here. Together. We came here. Together. Yes, correct.”

From your periphery, you can sense Hoseok barely holding onto his sanity after witnessing that pitiful display. Who can blame him when Yoongi’s infamously terrible acting skills are having their first appearance in over ten years? How he managed to pass Drama class is still a mystery to this day.

“Yup,” you say, popping your p.  You give Hyejin a winsome smile, your hands folded neatly on your lap. You can almost see the steam blowing out of her ears. It fills you with delicious satisfaction. “Why don’t Yoongi and I go get them so he can sign one?”

If her eyes had been made of lasers, you’d be a cauterized mess jumble of organs by now. Can’t say you would regret it either way.

“How kind of you.” She sneers. “Also, I wasn’t aware that you two were still a thing.”

“I wasn’t aware that we were required to inform you of anything,” you retort placidly. You plaster on your fakest grin. “Now, if you can please move your fat ass—I mean, if you can please move out of the way so I can go to my car...” you trail off, gesturing for her to leave.

After a few more indignant sputters on her end, she eventually makes her exit. She throws a couple of poisonous glares, but they go largely ignored by you and your friends. With her gone, you feel as though you can finally breathe fresh air again.

“Great stuff, Y/N! Congrats on winning your first bitch-off,” Seokjin chirps, back to his usual self. You roll your eyes at his antics but smile nonetheless.

“Thanks. I learned from the best.”

Yoongi clears his throat. “So, are we still gonna go?” He looks back and forth from her to you. “Just so we can pretend you actually have my albums in your car?”

“Trust me, Yoongi-chi. She does have your albums in her car.” Seokjin titters. “I wasn’t kidding about the photocard collection.”

“Ignore him. And yes, I do have your albums. I listen to them in my car from time to time,” you say, attempting nonchalance. “I’d hate to give them away to that bitch, but if it keeps her away...”

Away from you is left unsaid, but it’s heavily implied.

(No, you aren’t jealous. You’re above jealousy. It’s not like that bitch would ever have a chance with him anyway, unlike you—!

Woah there, cowgirl. Let’s stay on the right path. Don’t want your heart getting chewed up and spat back out all over again, do you?)

“I’ll just mail you a new one. Signed, if you want. You can probably sell it on eBay or whatever.” He tries to say it like a joke, but his brow is too furrowed to be convincing. (You want to kiss him there and make it go away.)

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so all you do is nod mutely. You stand up and Yoongi follows suit.

“We’ll be right back. If she comes back before then, tell her to scram,” you tell Hoseok and Seokjin. They salute you in response (well, Hoseok does. Seokjin does a very rude gesture with his fingers that is supposed to mimic something explicit. Feel free to use your imagination.)

The walk to the parking lot is a quiet one. The two of you stay side by side, his strides naturally matching your own. Unlike before, you don’t feel the need to fill the silence for once, content to just be in each other’s presence.

The hotel that your reunion is being held at is unusually unpopulated. The lobby consists of a handful of employees milling about, a few of whom look ready to fall asleep on their feet. You nod politely at the bellboy who opens the main doors for you, declining his offer to call the valet service to fetch your car.

“Just hand me my keys. I’ll look for my car in the parking lot.” It wouldn’t be hard to find, anyway. Your beat-up Toyota Corolla looks as though it’s been through three wars and then some.

It isn’t long until you find it parked close to the entrance. You unlock your car from the passenger seat, shimmying the glove compartment open to reveal your collection of CDs.

“Wow, you weren’t lying when you said you listened to my music,” Yoongi says, voice loud amidst the tranquil night. It startles you, and you accidentally knock over some of the albums onto your car floor. On top of the pile lies Yoongi’s most recent album, the one you recall he had released a couple of months ago.

Strange, how just hours ago you were listening to his music on the way to the reunion, only for the boy on the cover of the album to be just inches away from you.

“Yeah, well. You’re a pretty good artist,” you say.

“Only pretty good?” he repeats, amused.

“Don’t push it,” you snort. You grab the album on top, waving it in front of him. “This should be good enough, right?”

He plucks it from your grasp, an unreadable expression clouding his eyes. He chuckles, but there’s an edge of sadness in his tone. “Good enough,” he agrees solemnly.

His sudden quietness is different from the peaceful one before. It’s sorrowful, maybe regretful. He looks like a man stuck in grief.

“Did you know that I didn’t finish this album before releasing it?”

The question seems a little out of the blue, but you answer regardless. “No, I didn’t. They don’t sound unfinished to me.”

“The songs themselves aren’t unfinished,” he explains. He turns the album over, his finger running down the back where the tracklist is printed. “One of my songs never made it in.”

“Couldn’t you have delayed the album launch so you could complete it?”

He shakes his head. “It was actually the first song I finished out of all of them.”

“Then..?”

“It didn’t matter, at the time. I wrote it for someone specifically, but I didn’t want to put it on the album if she—they didn’t listen to it. It wouldn’t matter if the whole world heard that song because only they would understand it.”

“But now? What changed?” Fear and hope run down your spine in tandem when the question tumbles out of you. You hold your breath, and the world shifts from its axis.

But he doesn’t elaborate further.

x x x x x

You return to the hotel after acquiring both an album and some more tension. The album feels heavy in your hands, weighed down by secrets you are still too afraid to uncover. Not that Yoongi would ever willingly divulge them to you—because revealing them would make them real, and making them real would mean you would have to accept them, and accepting them would cause you to—

“They’re gone,” Yoongi announces when you reenter the ballroom. You can’t spot your table from the entranceway, but the certainty in Yoongi’s tone makes you believe him.

“No fucking way. Did those two little shits ditch us to exchange body fluids or something?”

Yoongi grimaces. “Please don’t say it like that. It’s bad enough that I was sitting close enough to Hoseok a while ago that I got accidentally footsie’d by Seokjin hyung.”

You wince, placing a pitying hand on his shoulder. “God didn’t make us his strongest soldiers.”

Yoongi tries dialing Hoseok a few times, but none of the calls connect. “Just my rotten luck,” he groans. He types angrily into his phone, worry creasing his forehead. “He was supposed to be my ride back to his place.”

“Seokjin isn’t answering his phone either,” you say apologetically. “How much do you wanna bet this is part of their evil scheme to leave us together?”

“I don’t doubt it in the slightest,” he deadpans. He sighs tiredly, rubbing his temples. “I suppose I can take a taxi there, but I also don’t know if he’ll be home to open the door for me.”

“Then why don’t you just stay with me?”

You don’t know what you’re doing.

In your head, the offer makes sense. He’s just a friend, you remind yourself. Nothing is stopping you from rekindling a friendship with him. You have purely platonic intentions. Friends help each other out.

Never mind the fact that your heart hasn’t stopped fluttering the entire night. Never mind the fact that you’ve caught yourself staring at him just as many times as you’ve caught him staring at you. Never mind the fact that you don’t want the night to end, not now not ever.

(Never mind the fact that you’ve never quite stopped loving him.)

So when he accepts, you convince yourself that offering had been the right thing to do.

(Maybe. Hopefully. You just wish your heart doesn’t end up as collateral damage.)

The drive home is short, thanks to the late hour. You had asked him if he had wanted to stay until the end of the reunion, but he had declined. “Nothing else left for me there,” he says.

You feel as though he’s hinting at something. Your grip on the steering wheel tightens. “At least I get to keep my album.”

Yoongi laughs, short and sweet.

As much as you try to fight it, sitting in the car with him brings up a lot of memories.

The two of you in the backseat as his older brother drives you to his house for dinner, backpacks filled with crumpled notes and loose pens, a promise of an intense study session for your upcoming exams ready to be broken. You remember how the sky would turn orange in the afternoon, the warm light streaming through the car window and washing Yoongi’s skin with a soft glow.

His cheeks had looked inviting, his lips even more. And you would lean over, kissing him like it was easy. Because it was easy, and you never had to think twice about it.

Your trip down memory lane doesn’t end in the car. As you walk up the steps to your childhood home, you hesitate by the door, your keys frozen over the lock. You can hear Yoongi’s soft breathing behind you, but his presence doesn’t feel as stifling as you thought it would be.

You’re far from being at ease, but you aren’t frightened either. Mostly, you’re just filled with anticipation. Of what? You aren’t sure.

“Excuse the mess. Jungkook is in the middle of moving out so there’s just stuff everywhere,” you say just as you open the door. You toe off your shoes by the entrance, kicking them off haphazardly into the pile of sneakers and boots.

You hear Yoongi huff out a laugh behind you. “Aish, that kid. Still hasn’t let go of his Timbs, huh?”

“He has also been really into chunky sneakers these days. I think he’s finalizing his transformation into Thumper,” you joke. “He’s staying at his new apartment for the weekend with my parents, so you won’t be seeing them. They’re helping him settle in.”

“Really? He didn’t mention moving when we spoke. Where is he moving to?”

“Busan. He and his best friend from college are going to start a restaurant in his hometown. Which is funny, since neither of them are the best chefs.”

Yoongi whistles. “Still, that’s impressive. I can’t remove the image from my head of when he was a kid. He was so scared of anything. He wouldn’t let go of your mom’s leg even if his life depended on it.”

He steps deeper into the house, his gaze jumping from end to end as he surveys your childhood home. You watch him, noting how right he looks standing there in the middle of your living room, like a chipped painting that has been restored.

It’s scary, how easily you’ve accepted him back into this place.

He stays rooted to the spot, the moonlight filtering through the kitchen windows and illuminating his frame. The air pulses with something magical, something dream-like, and it muddles your vision. It’s the only explanation you have for why your chest tightens when he turns to face you, with a gaze filled with sadness, mourning, yearning.

“Jungkook’s height chart is still here,” he murmurs. The small nicks on the kitchen door frame are hard to see, and other people have mistaken them for signs of wear and tear. But he knows what they are because he was there when your mother had etched the first scratch.

He looks at your ancient dining table, his hand brushing over the surface. “This too,” he says, rubbing at a large burn mark on the wood.

“Mom made sure to use placemats after that. I didn’t think a sizzling plate would burn through the table like that,” you say, giggling as you reminisce. “You know, we still use your mom’s galbi jjim recipe. We haven’t found a better one.”

“I’m sure she would love to hear that,” Yoongi smiles, but it fades just as quickly. “It’s so… strange. Being here again and seeing that nothing really changed.”

But things did change. Upstairs, in your bedroom. That night, ten years ago.

You still remember what you had said to him, when you had said it to him, how you had said it to him.

It was a sunny afternoon, the time of day when you’d be on your way home from school. The two of you had stood in your room, neither of you wanting to sit because sitting meant staying, and staying only made this harder.

There hadn’t been many tears in that moment; those were shed only after the realization had sunk in, when you’d fully understood what had happened. At the time, the decision had been as easy as breathing.

Except you had both been drowning. The clock was ticking down to the end of high school, and the inevitable wasn’t slowing down.

Yoongi wanted to chase his dreams in Seoul. You wanted to stay closer to home, with your friends and family.

You weren’t going to be the one to hold him down. You weren’t going to be that person, not when he’s destined for greater things than his hometown could offer—not even a girl who loved him would be worth staying for.

He had suggested it, first. He had been prepared for you to cry, or maybe scream, but you did none of that. Instead, you pulled him close, hugging him tighter than you ever had before. You wanted to make it last, imprint the sensation onto your brain so that his warmth might stay with you, even after he’s little more than a distant memory. You trembled, terribly so, even though the beginnings of summer crept on your skin like a brand.

It’s time to let him go, Time whispered. You refused to listen, just for another moment.

Let me have this last moment, you beg. But Time refused to listen.

“Do you know?” Yoongi had spoken into your neck, had hoped his words would stain there. “Do you know how much I love you?”

Love, not loved. “I did,” you say. You think better of it. “I do.”

When you separated, for good this time, it had left an ache deeper than you could have ever imagined.

But you were young. Young love was supposed to hurt, but it wasn’t supposed to last. “You’ll find others,” your mother had said, brushing a soothing hand through your hair as you sobbed.

Then why? Then why has it lasted this long?

It has been a question you’ve asked yourself, and you’re starting to think that the answer has always been right in front of you.

The answer is standing in front of you: real, alive, close.

“Why didn’t you ever date again?” you ask. You ask even though you know he can lie, if he wants. He can tell you anything and you would believe him.

But he wouldn’t; you know he wouldn’t.

“I was afraid of closing a door that I never meant to close in the first place,” he says. His voice crackles like static, but that might be the blood rushing to your head. He moves toward you but keeps a hand’s width away. Still too far.

He continues. “After that day, when I left,” he swallows, “after I left, I think… I think I left a piece of me with you. A-and I don’t think I ever stopped…” he cuts off, exhaling shakily.

“Stopped what?” you breathe.

“You know.” He waves his hands around helplessly. They fall heavily back down to his sides, defeated. “You know?” he repeats.

You do. Because you are the same. The old wound had never healed; it burns and it bleeds like new.

Your skull feels like it’s stuffed with cotton when you close the distance between the two of you. He circles his arms around your waist, tentative, but he relaxes when you wind your arms around his neck. Your vision is warped, so you choose to close them. You wait, with bated breath, as his warmth inched closer and closer.

The sensation of his lips on yours jolts you back to your senses. His kiss reminds you of your youth, of a love that had made you excited to start your day. Even now, your body remembers, and it rejoices.

The tenderness does not last long before it turns fervent, tongue and teeth crashing like waves against the shore. If his kisses could speak, they would tell you stories of how much he missed you, of how much he mourned the time you had both lost. They would tell you of the days when he’d almost pressed your number onto his phone, of the nights when he’d stare at the polaroids he had kept of you.

They would ask if you still love him like he still loves you.

He tastes of desperation, and you are likely to be the same. It is a desperation you haven’t tasted in years—but it doesn’t feel scary like it used to. Time no longer feels like it’s racing against you, like you had something to prove before the hour was over. This reckless abandon feels like home against your skin—it is an ache being soothed after having ripped your scabs over and over again.

It’s Yoongi.

And when he pulls you to your room, he doesn’t even need his eyes to find his way as his feet still memorize the floorboards. He struggles with the doorknob, forgetting that it always jammed, but it’s okay because you can always teach him again. You can teach him everything again.

The bed creaks under your weights and even the mattress sounds like it is sighing in relief. That sigh echoes from your lips when his hand slips under your clothes, his palm stopping over your heart.

“I won’t break it, this time,” he says. He promises. “If you let me.”

You wonder if he can feel your heart soaring, pounding against your ribs. “I think the line has long been crossed to ask for my permission.” You place your hand over where his is laid. You squeeze tight.

This time, you don’t let him go.

[teyvattherapist]

Greetings! (´∩｡• ᵕ •｡∩`) Hope your day has been going well! Was wondering if I could send in a request? From the tea prompts- (hope this is correct) Could you maybe serve Dainsleif, Kaeya, Zhongli and Diluc some Earl Grey, matcha, English breakfast and hibiscus tea? Thku and I'm so sorry if this is abit long Isksnx

a/n: Not long at all! Thanks for the request!

Link to the tea prompts :)

tags: gn!readerxDainsleif, Kaeya, Zhongli, and Diluc, Khaenri'ah spoilers, Zhongli spoilers, Kaeya spoilers, Diluc spoilers, angst if you squint, mostly fluff, children.

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hibiscus tea; what’s their favourite place to take their s/o?

Kaeya

Answered here<3

Dainsleif

Dainsleif has been so many places and seen so many things that he doesn't really have one specific location. Everywhere has some sort of meaning for somebody like him. As a result though, he would thoroughly enjoy his partner's favourite place and the meaning it holds to them. Dainsleif always goes back to it, even on his own, but definitely with his partner.

Zhongli

Too many places. Zhongli is a bit of a history buff, so anywhere in Liyue with rich history, which is all of Liyue, is an ideal date location to bring his s/o. From the blue of Luhua Pool to the flower fields in Qingce Village to just a walk around the Harbour. Zhongli is more attached to the stories of these locations than the locations themselves. Has an attachment to Guili Plains and picnicking there though...

Diluc

His favourite place is back home to the Winery. Man hates being seen. Besides that obvious one though, he does quite enjoy spending time with his partner at the large tree at Windrise. Thankfully at night its quite quiet and always lit up by fireflies. He'll even catch some in a jar for his s/o. It's quite funny to see him try to chase them around.

earl grey tea; how did they court their s/o?

Kaeya

Flirty as ever is the Cavalry Captain as he lays the charm on thick for his person of interest. Though the moment they flirt back, wow he is flustered. That's how one knows its more genuine. He'll gift them small trinkets, ask them to go drinking with him, or even go out of his way to bring them places if the tavern isn't for them. Ultimately, pretty normal courting methods.

Dainsleif

He pulls out some weird ass dated Khaenri'ahn courting customs that I could not begin to describe. Gives them flowers that definitely aren't any flowers they could recognize. Fan of the back of the hand kiss. He's very bashful when courting somebody, he hasn't done this in a long time, and do people still 'court' anymore? Dainsleif doesn't really know. He is doing his best, please take this 4th bouquet this week.

Zhongli

Also pulls out the dated courting customs but these ones are Liyuen and at least somewhat recognizable. Has a 5% chance of remembering his mora for once when taking them out. Very polite, always shows up with a gift of some kind(usually homemade or flowers he's picked himself) If they have parents he is going to befriend them.

Diluc

As a noble, he knows how to court, he knows very well how to court. He simply does not have the time and he simply cannot be assed. Will ask them to dinner, will present them with a gift, will tell them he'd like to pursue a relationship halfway through dinner. The End. There is no courtship there is only Diluc asking them out over some grape juice.

matcha tea; how and when do they propose to their s/o?

Kaeya

Thinks about this for a very long time. All that ancient plot stuff and whatnot. Buys the ring and looks at it every day for at least a month. He knows he loves them, more than anything, hell they have his loyalty, wherever they put it, he will too. Remember those dates at Starfell Lake? The late night picnics? Its on one of those, under the light of the Anemo statue, surrounded by crystalflies does he pop the question. He doesn't do the whole dropping to his knees thing, he's already incredibly flustered and nervous. Kaeya wrote a whole speech.. He forgot halfway through. Help. Kaeya.exe has stopped functioning, he's so in love.

Dainsleif

Thinks about it for even longer than Kaeya. Jfc, Dainsleif if your lover is mortal they're going to die before you make a decision. Forges the ring himself once he finally decides to do it. Its quite pretty, has an engraving as well. Dainsleif was going to propose traditionally, dinner, drinks, flowers, on his knee with a speech. Easy. But that seemed... Unworthy of his partner. So instead he arranges a cute little scavenger hunt. Something fun. It does end with dinner, drinks, flowers, and him on his knee. Dainsleif even ditched the usual 'fit for a rented suit. He cleans up quite nicely and wow his face is.. red. Composure? Gone. Take this ring, please.

Zhongli

Childe bought the ring. Zhongli is a God living as a Mortal. He is still immortal. He still has a long long life ahead of him. And once an appropriate amount of time has passed, he's ready to move to the next step. Marriage has more than likely been discussed between him and his partner before he proposes. He makes a whole day of it! Sleeping in, breakfast and tea in bed, some shopping in the afternoon, dinner at the Pavilion, and as dinner wraps up and they wait for dessert, Zhongli will slide off of his seat and onto his knee. His speech is perfect, the ring fits perfectly, and dessert comes out right after. Its perfect.

Diluc

Thinks about it forever 3 electric boogaloo. Again, given his status, there's just so much attention involved and he doesn't like the attention. He'd love to marry his partner, and again its probably been discussed beforehand. Eventually, with some prodding from one annoying lovely brother, he gets the ring and starts planning how he wants to do it. Yeah, good try Diluc. Unfortunately he left the box on his bedside table for his partner to find! Stumbled over his words as he tried to explain, face getting redder with every passing second. He tried! He really did. He'll take them out to dinner later<3

english breakfast tea; would they want a family?

Kaeya

Mmm.. He'll get back to them on that one. He needs a LOT of therapy first. Like.. In the same vein as his adoptive father, he attracts a lot of kids looking for a figure to look up to. But would he adopt them?? If he were more mentally sound maybe. He simply doesn't know and thus won't risk it. He can step up when needed though, really.

Dainsleif

No. That's it. Just no.

Zhongli

Kind of conflicted about it, depending on his partner, there's just a lot of ways this can go with his whole divinity thing. Definitely lots of conversations about it. Consults his partner's opinion the most out of everyone here.

Diluc

Mm... He'll get back to them on that one 2 electric boogaloo. Realistically he's got a legacy to pass on, but does he care about it? No. Also daddy issues, he doesn't want to be like his dad and abandon his kid when they need him. So he's very conflicted. Eventually though, he would like a kid or two. It just takes a while to get there.

↳tags; @fadinganchornight