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thecutestlittlebunbunfairy · 2 years

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You Better Watch Out

Pairing: Krampus!Loki x Reader

Summary: You've decided to spend Christmas alone this year, but someone is going to pay you a visit

Word Count: 3100

Warnings: Mosnterfucking, Slight Dubcon, Bondage, Degredation

a/n:Hey all! My last fic of 2022! And my last fic i'm going to publish on this blog! Staring in 2023, all of my fics will be published on my new writing blog @thebunnyslibrary! I wanted to do something Christmas-y and this just scratched the right itch for me! Enjoy and have a happy new year!

Ho. Ho. Ho. Your brain had all but tuned out the Christmas music as you drove further into the woods. You’re not sure why, but for some reason this year, the holiday spirit had missed you completely. You had a feeling, though, it was the loneliness.

It seemed your friends were all busy spending their lives with spouses, partners, and their families; Leaving your only option as going to your parents. Which was usually okay; mom always cooked the best food and the huge tv was nice. But this year you opted for some personal quiet time. If you were going to be alone, may as well do it in style. You’d booked a little cabin in the woods, bringing only your laptop and a large stack of books. You’d taken from the 23rd through New Year’s off and you intended to make the most of it.

The cabin itself was gorgeous. An A-Frame listed on AirBnB by some architect who was spending his winter in Switzerland with his little wife. Little being the operative word, you thought looking at a photo of the two of them that hung in the kitchen as you let yourself in; he was a giant hulking man and she a curvy brunette with big round glasses. But you could see the love between the two of them. Something you’d been seriously lacking as of late. Every relationship you’d had this year crashed and burned and you felt ready to give up.

You explored more around the cabin until you came across the thing that’d made you book this place. The jacuzzi. It was on a convertible deck; set up to be outdoor in the summer, but now in the winter, a wall of glass enclosed it, giving sight out to the woods. You could see the sun was already starting to set, damn winter, and knew you still had to get your groceries inside and your things put away. The rules for the cabin they’d left were nothing major. Don’t trash the place or set it on fire. Easily manageable

You opted for a frozen pizza for your first night’s dinner. You’d stocked up PLENTY at the local grocery store before arriving at the cabin. Cocoa packets (with marshmallows), those Pillsbury sugar cookies with the snowmen, and even a Christmas classics collection on DVD you’d fished out of the bargain bin. You’d decided to make a small roast beef with some baked potatoes for actual Christmas dinner, and you were even going to make a small vat of homemade mac and cheese tomorrow to go with it.

As you walked more through the cabin, you found a cozy reading room with an impressive library. One half architectural and art books. The other poetry and literature. You looked through the shelves and unsurprisingly found “A Christmas Carol” by Charles Dickens. You unpacked your stuff and the groceries while you ate dinner, then lit a fire and settled on the large sofa in the reading room. It had been sometime since you’d read it and thought it would be fun to re-read some tonight, and some tomorrow on Christmas Eve.

You made it to the ghost of Christmas Present before you’d started to yawn, knowing it was time to head to bed, unaware of the eyes watching you from the forest.

The next day, you’d slept til nearly 10 in the morning; waking up to find the outside world covered in a slight dusting of snow. Having a quick cup of tea, you got to work on fixing the few things you needed to do for Christmas and Christmas Eve dinner. For Christmas Eve, you were following the family tradition of a lasagna. While it cooked you seasoned the roast, prepped the mac n cheese for baking, and even found time to make a cheesecake. All the while, Christmas classics played from the record player in the den filled the house with warmth, even helping to restore a little Christmas cheer. You would have to leave a note to the owners to see if they were interested in becoming friends; they had impeccable taste.

The lasagna was, as expected, fantastic. You’d bought a box of cheap Texas toast garlic bread, which in your opinion was better than homemade, and afterward had leftovers for the rest of your stay.

You opted to spend the rest of evening in the jacuzzi with the book. The parts about Scrooge and Belle tugged at your heart a bit. While you knew Scrooge was greedy and selfish of his own volition, you could understand the loneliness and rejection that had turned him so. You yourself had never had many friends growing up, often finding yourself more in the company of books than your peers. You longed for someone to call yours who would call you theirs. It’d been so long since you’d actually been with someone.

The story finished with Tiny Tim’ s famous line, and you closed the book. You stared out into the woods, but the dark forest offered no solace to your loneliness. But you thought you saw…was that…?

Was that…something moving in the forest? You swore you had seen a pair of red eyes staring at you but…it couldn’t be, you told yourself. Just a trick of the light. You sighed and leaned back in the jacuzzi, staring up into the stars. You were in awe at just how many more you could see out here in the woods. You closed your eyes and with something last shred of hope you made a simple Christmas wish, that someone would make you feel something…

Suddenly, you did feel something as a massive gust of cold air blew through the porch area. But that was impossible! This was a completely enclosed area…right? You made a note to tell the owners that their porch might have a draft. You checked your watch; 12:01. Merry Christmas. You pulled yourself from the hot tub, wrapping yourself in a towel as you padded through the cabin. Your parents had given you a small stack of presents to open. You stacked them carefully under the tree before changing into the new pajamas you’d bought yourself. Extra soft and covered in little stars.

“Merry Christmas” you whispered to yourself as you fell asleep, but as you fell asleep, you felt that same rush of cold air.

Cold. That was what you felt as you opened your eyes. Where was the blanket? You reached to pull the covers back up but found you couldn’t. Instead, your arm felt…restrained. You frantically turned and saw your wrists had been shackled to the headboard. Oh shit…shit shit shit… you looked and saw your legs were spread wide, bound with black silk ribbon. And your clothes; gone were the warm fuzzy pajamas and instead you wore a midnight blue babydoll and black silk panties that matched the ribbon binding your wrists. You squirmed, trying to undo yourself from the restraint. You looked at the nightstand tables, desperately searching for your phone.

“Oh, don’t struggle, pet. Wouldn’t want you harming that beautiful skin of yours….at least not before I get my chance.” A raspy voice purred. Sounding like a freshly sharpened skate gliding across an icy lake.

“Who…who’s there?” you asked, meekly. You could see a figure lurking in the shadows.

“I am here to fulfill your Christmas wish. To feel something.” There was a mischievousness in his voice, but it was not playful or comforting. He stepped into the moonlight beaming in the windows and you instantly wanted to shrink away.

He was tall, his…horns, nearly scraping against the ceilings. They were black and curved, with some small chains with decorative stones wrapped around them. His skin was a pale, icy blue. But his face was marked with ridges and lines and he had ritualistic tattoos up his arms and all over his chest. His hair was inky black, a few plaited braids hung against a massive mane. Crimson red eyes raked over your form. You wanted to cover yourself, hide; but with the restraints, you had no chance.

“Please…please…this has to be a dream.” You closed your eyes and shook your head, making the chains rattle. “Whoever you are, please just leave. I’ll never say a word…” You gasped as a long-crooked nail, more like a claw…ran down your cheek.

“Hush, little pet. No harm will come to you on this night.” He paused, smiling wolfishly, revealing sharp pearly fangs. “At least none that you cannot stand.”

“Who-who are you?” You were starting to feel even more of a chill with this man, this creature, being so close.

“I am Loki, a spirit of Winter and the woods. One who seeks out and tries to restore a warmth to those who are lacking it.”

“And you do that by chaining people to their beds?” You demanded. Still afraid but trying to not to show as much.

“Well, my methods can be a bit…unconventional at times. But it seems you are in need of some truly unconventional methods.” His fingers grabbed your chin and forced you to meet his crimson eyes.

He stared at you, as if studying you. “So alone…” he mused, as if he didn’t quite mean to say it aloud. The fingers holding your chin, ran down your chest to where your nipples had hardened from the chills. “Is this all from the cold pet, or are you excited at the feel of my touch?” He purred as he tweaked your nipple, making you inhale sharply.

The more you looked upon him, the more you couldn’t help being entranced by the angular jaw and his piercing eyes. His chest was exposed, as he wore only dark black pants and boots, and there were more markings and tattoos all over his body.

His fingers trailed down, rubbing over your panties. “And your little quim is getting so wet.” You bit your lip and shook your head, wanting to resist and fight. But his hand slipped under the panties and his long nail rubbed your clit, making your hips buck. The slight edge of pain drove the intensity of the pleasure.

“My wanton little slut. I think I know just how to fill you with Christmas spirit.” He said, emphasizing the fill in a way that made your breath hitch. He climbed up on top of you in the bed, kneeling between your spread thighs, but still managing to push them even further apart.

“Please…no…this has to be just a nightmare.” you protested weekly. But he ripped away the panties like they were made of tissue papers.

“Perhaps…perhaps not.” He said, his voice low. “But if it is, let us make it one you never forget” He adjusted himself, bringing his face close to your cunt, letting out a small breath of icy air. “So sensitive, little one.” Giving a slow gentle lick, you could feel his tongue felt cold on your hot cunt. But the feeling drove you wild with pleasure and you let out a low moan. He chuckled and went about his work, laving small licks against your clit. He brought two fingers up, just to ease them into your cunt, his touch just as icy as his tongue.

“My little pet, your little quim is absolutely divine.” He growled. “And it’s all mine.” His tongue and fingers were bringing you the most blissful pleasure you’d ever felt. Reaching the most intimate spots that you never could.

“Loki…I’m…I’m gunna…” you panted, getting closer and closer to climax.

“Yes, my pet. I feel your cunt tightening around my fingers. Cum on my face; let me taste you.” He ordered. His commanding voice drove you over the edge. You called out his name as you came, bucking your hips as far up as you could in the restraints. Your hands long for something to clasp, seeing his horns right in front of you… Why were you enjoying this so much? But why did this monster seem intent on pleasing you?

He licked up every drop of cum he could, sucking lewdly on your clit as he fingered you through the orgasm. When he finally pulled away, breathing heavily, you could see his chin in the moonlight, completely soaked.

Without a second thought, he pressed his lips against yours, kissing you fiercely. He ground his hips against you, his form making you feel small. He broke the kiss, panting heavy.

“Well well, for someone on MY list this year, you sure do TASTE like a good girl. Tell me, my little snowflake, why so glum?” He asked, tenderly stroking your cheek with his finger.

“Why…why would you care?” You breathed. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” you said, confused and dazed.

“Yes, but I didn’t expect you to be sensitive and…frankly, cute.” He said, grinning. Your face heated up.

“Well…I suppose…I just didn’t expect you to be so…nice?” You said, sheepishly. “You seem to WANT to make me cum.”

Loki stared at you in disbelief. “Are you saying you’ve never had a partner who was trying to please you?” he asked, incredulously. You looked away, not wanting to answer. A sigh left his lips.

“How foolish mortals can be. Constantly in search for beauty but ignoring it when it’s in plain sight.” He gave you another kiss, much gentler this time. And you both paused for a moment, he even laid gently on top of you so as not to hurt you.

After a brief moment of kind silence, you spoke. “Perhaps I ended up on your list not because you were here to punish, but because you were NEEDED. I did wish to feel something. And I’ve certainly felt some things tonight.” You let out a small chuckle.

“I suppose that could be possible.” He smiled a true smile this time, but that mischievous glint was in his eye. “I’m still not convinced this isn’t a dream, but why don’t we make this my best Christmas, yet?” you asked

“As you wish,” He purred. “Shall I keep the restraints on?” he asked, genuinely.

“Yes, I wanted to feel. Make me feel.” You said, your voice now heavy with desire.

“Well, who are you ordering me around, little thing?” he said, reaching down to tweak your nipple, HARD. “I am the one who commands you. I am your god.” He leaned down, squeezing your cheeks and holding your mouth open to spit into it. “Swallow that my sweet cum whore.” You did so, your eyes rolling back. He smirked.

“I take it back. You ARE a naughty little girl.” He said, kissing you as he pulled his pants down, freeing his cock. Big, and blue. Just like the rest of him. Your toys back home could barely hold a candle to his. You bit your lip.

“You want this, don’t you my sweet girl? You want to be my little whore? Beg for my cock.” He said, sliding his cock along your cunt, feeling you get wet.

“Please…please fuck me Loki. Please.” You bs egged.

He pushed his cock in, making you gasp at the feeling of being split open by him.

“Fuck…this tight little quim…” he grunted, rocking his hips and fucking you deeper. “So perfect around my cock.” His cock was cool, like the rest of his touches, but you felt yourself getting hotter and hotter from his touches. As he fucked you, he peppered your neck and face in kisses, growling sinful things in your ear. “Such a naughty little girl…I’m going to claim this cunt as mine…you will always remember…you belong to me…” He promised.

“Loki please…fuck me….” Your please were cut off when Loki wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing just enough.

“I. Told. You.” He growled, each of his words being punctuated by a hard thrust, driving the full length of his cock inside you. “I don’t.” Thrust “Take orders.” Thrust. “From bratty little whores.” His last thrust had your eyes rolling back as he resumed a punishing pace. You were already so sensitive from your last orgasm, and his other hand was circling your clit and driving you even crazier.

“I can your cunt tightening around my cock AGAIN.” He degraded. “But if you want to come this time, I better hear you ask nicely for it. Go on…tell Loki what you want for Christmas.” He mocked. But it seemed to make you want it more. His hand was still squeezing your throat, but you choked out

“Please…please can I cum…for Christmas?” you whimpered, tears leaving your eyes out of desperation. He leaned close to you and whispered.

“I am going to cum within you, so that you always know, always remember, who you belong to. Now. Cum.” He ordered. You came hard, harder than you’d ever truly thought possible. Every nerve was on fire with pleasure and passion. Above you, Loki stilled as he filled you with his cum, squeezing your throat so hard you thought you’d pass out. He gave a few more thrusts, riding out his orgasm, then slowly lowered himself to meet your body, kissing you again, but with all the tenderness of a lover.

As you two lay there in post coital bliss, you could feel the bonds fall away from your arms and legs.

“Loki?”

“Shhhh.” He breathed, adjusting you two to lay on your sides, still connected. But as he held you, you did not feel cold. You felt safe and secure.

“You mortals have some interesting customs nowadays. Not bad, just interesting.”

“I suppose. But some of the old customs were pretty odd too. Candles on a dried tree? No wonder London was constantly on fire.” You both chuckled.

“I wish there was some way to tell if this was all a dream.” You said; your eyes heavy with sleep.

“Perhaps. But even if it is, I’m sure you shall remember it.”

“Absolutely.”

“Then remember the good times and fret not about the details.” He mused. You wanted to respond, but his soothing voice and gentle touches pulled you into sleep.

The next morning you awoke, feeling better rested than you’d had in some time now. You looked around the room and all was as it should be. Your clothes, your bed, the sun was shining bright on a beautiful Christmas morning. But as you looked, there was a small blue box sitting on the night stand.

“No….it couldn’t be.” You opened the box and there, encrusted with your birthstone, was a small silver “L.” In the box was a note.

Merry Christmas, my darling pet. I hope I’ve made this one to remember.

#loki laufeyson #monster fucker #Krampus!Loki #Krampus #Christmas #Loki x Reader #Dark!Loki

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capoteera · 1 month

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Nov 16 2023

Anon - the pics are Fuckin old . That’s a fact based on his appearance. But again IF , big IF they put him at her stupid trash festival - he will not only look different but it’s again an orchestrated let’s “place” him there with old Fuckin pics, bc that’s normal. 🙄

I’m sorry but if you think these pics are all taken this week or this month ? I feel sorry for you. He does not look the same.

Here’s october con and the PT ones/ there is no effing way he went from his con look to the two DIFFERENT looks on the right in a Fuckin month. Learn how the body works pl

Nov 22, 2023

DUDE the pT pics are fucking old , and a blind man can see that, that's how pathetic and gullible you sound. "We didn't expect and he was there" -- DID YOU SEE the difference in how he looks in the two pics? NOT possible in a day, and the CHEF even looks different from other things he posted that week, get a fucking grip, those pics were old.

Nov 16, 2023

So we used old pics to place him "in Portugal" just so now she can get Portugal press to actually write about her? And here we go with the house thing (that man ain't leaving Mass, he's said so he will never live anywhere else) just like they did with Jenny ,and even Lily.

Unbelievable... Imagine thinking this is what a normal healthy relationship would be.... posting old pics of him with fans and influencers just to gain attention to Portugal, to get HER press and call him captain america like a fucking monkey doing stage performance. UNREAL .

And from Capt’s own timeline:

. Him never going to PT during those 2 years aside the Jan 2022 trip and staying at home all summer 2023, while she was there.

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joraszinhaz · 1 year

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#low qual pics #urban landscape #strange #city #streets #roads #messy #walls #concrete #abandoned #corrosion #flowers #cat #trash #=)#summer 2022 #june

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ahundredtimesover · 1 year

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Belong (4.5: Rewind) | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: exes-to-lovers-to-exes-to-lovers; actress!OC x basketball coach!Yoongi; summer romance; “long” distance relationship; parallel timelines; angst, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, family drama, sport injury; dreams & moving away; allusion to depression; basketball and acting talk; 2014 and 2022 Yoongi; shy and nonchalant cocky whipped Yoongi; almost drowning, sexual content (18+)

Chapter Word count: 6k

Series Masterlist

Status: Complete

Series summary: Being an actor has always been your dream. Pursuing it meant many things - leaving the town where you grew up, distancing yourself from your family that had fallen apart, and saying goodbye to the man who made you feel what home was like. When you decide to finally return after being away for so long, you meet Min Yoongi again, and you’re reminded of the summer romance from 8 years ago with the college basketball superstar whose broken dream pushed you away. As you find yourself spending time with him, you’re left to wonder if love changes, if it gives second chances, or if it’s just another illusion that will hurt the both of you the second time around.

Listen to: Nervous by Gavin James || Playlist 🎶

3 years ago

Yoongi’s childhood home is a one-floor house with a spacious kitchen and a nice lawn. His dad had built it for their mother as a way to keep her happy. It has a lot of the things she likes, like a big common space for everyone to gather around during meals, a vertical garden outside, and some planter boxes hanging by the windows. Half of the furniture is from the antique shop, which his dad had refurbished to fit the style of the place.

Yoongi was too young when they first moved in, but he remembers many things about it, like evenings watching talk shows and the news while they all ate and cleaned up as a family, mornings of his parents talking about different topics that got Yoongi interested in watching documentaries, and afternoons with his brother shooting hoops in their small backyard.

He also remembers the weekends you’d stayed over when he was injured, the first time you saw him break down, and the last time you walked out the door. There are memories of him ignoring his dad, arguing with his brother, and that evening when he took down the basketball ring and threw it in the trash.

He spent a whole year living here after the injury. Yoongi saw how his old man remained positive despite the pain over seeing his son struggle, how he worked hard to pay the medical bills, how he tried to make the house feel like the home he lost, even if Yoongi wasn’t sure that was possible, only because you were no longer in it, and there’s really no one to blame but him.

Things got relatively better though. After he fully recovered physically and got to save enough by helping the stores in the area digitize and selling some of his prized NBA jerseys, he moved out and rented a tiny studio apartment. He continued to help his dad at the shop, expanding its services for more income stream while also doing freelance work online. It was mentally tiring, but it helped his mind be preoccupied with things. Perhaps that’s what got him talking to his friends again; it’s what got him to go out and find other ways of moving on from all the pain that he chose to carry by himself.

It’s a Friday when Yoongi visits his old house with some groceries he bought. He got a huge payout in one of the projects he worked on and he’s been slowly paying off his dad by buying the essentials and medication, as his old man insists that there’s no debt to be paid; it’s his job to look out for his son, after all.

“Hey, dad,” Yoongi greets as he walks into the kitchen.

“Hey, son,” his dad replies, scooping them bowls of stew for dinner, a routine they’ve both developed after Yoongi moved out.

They proceed to eat, with him staring blankly down the hallway like he sometimes still does. It hasn’t been a good couple of weeks and he’s just been waiting for the next big project that would help him keep his mind off things again.

“So an old friend was in town this week and we went to this local bar,” his dad says. “It’s nice. They have live music every Thursday. A-reum was the one playing last night.”

At the mention of her name, Yoongi stills for a bit, only to hum in response.

“I asked her how she’s doing and why she hasn’t passed by the shop in a while. Imagine my surprise when she said that you two have broken up. Two months ago. And I was the clueless father who didn’t know that his son was going through another heartbreak,” his dad continues. “What happened, son? You both seemed happy. You looked happy.”

“Shit happens,” Yoongi shrugs, not keen to talk about how much of a jerk he really is. It’s enough that he knows exactly what caused him to fall out of his feelings for her; he doesn’t really want to share that with anyone else.

His dad looks at him with a hardened gaze. It isn’t that he didn’t know about the breakup; it’s more about his son’s reaction to it, how he’s looking indifferent to it as if it’s not possibly hurting him right now. It’s choosing again to go through all this by himself. Even more, it’s the fact that A-reum seemed good for him. Yoongi was smiling again, laughing again; it wasn’t the same as before but it was better than the closed-off, broken version of him.

“What happens?” The older man presses. “A fight that you didn’t want to fix? Remembering something from your old life and then shutting her out? Or was it because she wanted to chase her dreams and you let her leave you?”

If this was 2 years ago, Yoongi would’ve answered back. He would’ve argued that it wasn’t his old man’s place to accuse him like that, even if he has all the reasons to, given Yoongi’s track record. But instead, he just looks down, eyes sullen as he thinks of the night he told her that he no longer felt the same, and that it was better if they continued with their lives separately.

“That’s kind of out of line,” he replies, respectfully.

His dad sighs, suddenly feeling guilty about making assumptions, especially when he knows how hard his son struggled, and how he worked just as hard to be better.

“I’m sorry, son, I just—”

“It’s okay, dad. They’re not baseless accusations,” Yoongi interjects. They’re what happened with you, after all.

“I just… don’t want you to keep pushing away people who love you, who want to be there for you,” his old man says. “It’s an exhausting thing to do at such a young age. You’ve got so much life to live. You can’t be scared forever.”

“I know. It was my fault. There’s still a lot I still can’t let go of,” Yoongi explains, even if there are more reasons behind it. “But I don’t really want to talk about it. It’s hard, sure, but I can manage. You don’t have to worry. I promised I’d reach out if it gets too much.”

“Okay, then,” his dad concedes. It’s progress from before, if he’s being honest, and this is always better than having his son crying on his own and completely shutting everyone out. “How was your day then?”

Dinner continues without the tension from earlier. Both men even get a laugh in. Perhaps Yoongi’s just much better at compartmentalizing now, or maybe he’s picked up a few acting tips from you. But either way, it keeps his dad from asking more. Breaking up with his girlfriend because she reminds him so much of you isn’t exactly in the list of Yoongi’s proudest moments; he’d carry this thought in his grave if he has to.

His old man heads to the couch while Yoongi insists on cleaning up. He washes the dishes, throws out the trash, and organizes all the groceries he’s bought. By the time he joins his dad, he could already hear the snores from next to him. Yoongi lets him be, knowing it’s been a tiring week, and proceeds to watch the show that’s on TV.

It takes a while for him to register that it’s you on the talk show, along with your co-stars from a recently-concluded series where you starred in a supporting role. His dad watched the show religiously; he was probably waiting for this segment before he fell asleep.

The cast consists of mostly veteran actors and you’re the youngest of them all, and so most of the questions addressed to you are about your feelings acting alongside people you look up to and if you felt any fear going into this project.

“Any time I star on a show is terrifying, only because I’m afraid to fail,” you answer. “It means so much to me to be given this chance and I have to tell myself that I can’t waste this opportunity. I only will if I let the fear take over, and that’s like betraying all my hard work, you know? I have to remind myself that I’m meant to take up this space. My agency, my friends, my colleagues - they all helped me get here. Giving in to the fear feels like I’m letting them down, too, and they don’t deserve that.”

The host seems in awe with your answers, so do your co-stars who pat you on the back and remark that you’ve always been very mature, that you’re a hard worker as much as you’re talented, and that they didn’t feel like you were new to the industry with how bold you were.

You cover your face in amusement while they all look fondly at you. You have that smile on, the one where you’re a little embarrassed over being praised, but Yoongi can sense that you’re also a little emotional over hearing what your colleagues think of you.

It’s the first time he’s watching you get interviewed and he’s a little emotional as well, seeing you get flustered but look proud. He listened to you talk about all these things - what shows you want to act in, which actors you want to work with, the attitude you want to bring into every project. You once told him that you admired him for being brave for dreaming, but he never got to tell you the same. He thinks you’re much braver than he ever would be. You loved him fiercely and certainly, after all, and he’d been the scared one who couldn’t do the same.

He stands by his decision that letting you go meant he loved you too much to keep you suffering with him, but sometimes he can’t help but think that maybe he’d been greedy, that his love had been selfish, that his selflessness made him decide for the both of you, and that ultimately pulled you both apart. Seeing you in the same room with people you admire eases that thought a little bit, but it’s your words that hit him harder.

What’s hard work if he doesn’t get to reap the benefits? Perhaps it’s one reason why the injury hurts more than just physically; it’s hard to explain how something so devastating can rip one’s soul, especially when he’d spent years molding his life around basketball only for him to lose his space in its world.

It continues to pain him; he aches for the death of his dream. But it’s the people around him who suffered greatly because he’d given in to the fear of living life without the sport he’d loved greatly. You hurt the most because of it; his family and friends continue to see him without the light in his eyes anymore. He’d hate to think that everyone who’d supported him from when he was able, to when he was broken would think that they haven’t been enough. He’d only wanted to shield them all from how dark it was in his mind so only he gets to shoulder it; perhaps selflessness can actually be selfish, too.

His thoughts are disrupted when your name is called again. The host asks what advice you could give to young aspirants who are just starting or have yet to put one foot on the door of this industry.

“I’m just like them,” you chuckle, a little shy. “I’m still finding my way.”

“But you’ve at least done something,” the host says. “Hearing it from someone close to their age or someone they can relate with may resonate more with them than from the veterans who’ve been doing this for years.”

Your co-stars agree and encourage you to talk, so you take the mic and address the viewers.

“To the young ones in school training to become an actor, or doing this for fun, or exploring the possibility of doing this for a living, I’m telling you now, it’s not always gonna be easy nor glamorous,” you start. “It’s gonna hurt sometimes, you’ll face rejection; you might even feel like it may not be worth it. Remember that it’s all part of the ride. It’s pretty amazing most of the time, especially when you love and respect your craft. Just keep working hard and turn to the people who’ll dream your dream with you.”

Yoongi notices the way your smile fades a little, even more when you say the next words, as if they’re hurting you and giving you peace at the same time.

“But if it gets too much, remember that it’s okay to give up, too. That doesn’t make you weak nor a failure nor a coward,” you continue. “Giving something up decisively takes courage. And you worked hard. The people who love you will love you no matter what.”

A lone tear falls down Yoongi’s cheek. If he was being delusional, he’d think you meant to say the words to him. Maybe the guys still talk to you; perhaps they told you about how he’d stopped playing basketball altogether, how he doesn’t like watching or talking about it anymore, and how he’d given up any bit of dream related to it. And maybe that hurt you, too, and that’s why you’re saying this, perhaps hoping in some way, it will get to him.

He turns off the TV and walks to his room. It hits him when he looks around, the love he once displayed for the sport no longer there. The empty walls that used to be full of posters, the rusty shelf that used to house his trophies, the closet that was once filled with jerseys that he’d sold. He didn’t give it up decisively. He gave it up fearfully and helplessly, because as he looks at this place that’s devoid of what once was his dream, all he feels is pain and guilt.

He misses the sport terribly, and being without it has hurt him more than anything.

Yoongi gets the posters he’d kept under his bed. Some of them have tears in them, most are crumpled. But he meticulously tapes and flattens them before posting them on his walls again, feeling his room come alive once more. He retrieves all his trophies from the big trash bag in the corner, taking each one out and placing them on the shelves.

From inside his closet, he unfolds the 2 remaining jerseys he didn’t have the heart to sell - the MJ one that his mother left for him, and the Allen Iverson one that you got him for your anniversary. He hangs them inside, his fingers tracing the Sixers logo of the one from you, and he allows himself to remember how playing made him feel so happy and free. But more than anything, he lets himself remember the excitement he’d get whenever he watched the sport, whenever he’d talk about or analyze it, whenever he’d think about it, and then a smile graces his face.

Not playing professionally may be an unrealized dream now. He’s in his late 20s with only a college career to be proud of. He’s accepted some time ago that his knee won’t be the same anymore, but he doesn’t need that to enjoy the sport. He still loves it whether he shoots the ball or watches someone else do it.

As he looks around his room, he feels that bit of excitement once again, and all it took was an interview he didn’t intend to watch of the woman whose love he’ll always hold onto for him to realize that he doesn’t want to give all this up. It’ll always pull him back in. If he can’t let it go decisively, then he won’t do it at all, not when it’s what could get him back on his feet again, even if it’s what tore him apart in the first place.

He pulls out his phone and texts his brother.

[To: Geumjae] Are you free in the morning? Can you go to the park with me to shoot around?

[To: Geumjae] I miss it. I think I’m ready

[From: Geumjae] Of course. I’ll drive out and see you tomorrow.

[From: Geumjae] I’m happy for you. Love you.

Being back in his university’s basketball court makes Yoongi feel nostalgic. He spent 4 amazing years making this place his home. He’d had most of his best moments here, like the 3 championships he won with his team. It feels a little weird to be in here all those years later, no longer in the maroon and white jersey that he used to sport but in business casual clothes, as the team’s coach officially welcomes him to the team.

Right after he snapped out of a 3-year long pity party, he played for the first time with his brother. He definitely missed the feel of the ball in his hand and the sound of the net swooshing when he shoots. He still got it, his brother had said, and it felt good to hear it. He wouldn’t deny that he can still shoot pretty well, but he was also practical enough to know that he couldn’t sustain it. His knee still feels stiff at times - a normal occurrence as the doctor had told him - and he’d get tired more easily, but the joy came back. The fear didn’t.

After that, Yoongi went back to watching basketball again, from the NBA to the national and university leagues. He discovered the online space for sports analyses, and he got sucked into its world. He’d comment on articles constantly and make his own, and he’s glad he did because it’s what ultimately landed him this job. One of his former coaches saw what he’d been saying and was impressed; Yoongi’s basketball IQ and unique way of looking at the game haven’t changed, the older man said.

That was 5 months ago and so much has changed since then but he’s proud of how he got back on his feet. There’s a different type of drive now, as he watches the team scrimmage as part of their training. Seeing their passion and hunger for success is inspiring, and the thought of bringing home another crown for the school with them excites him. It’s a new aspiration, and he’ll work hard to make them experience what he experienced as a young player with all his hopes and his dreams. Maybe they could achieve what he couldn’t because if it wasn’t him, then it could at least be someone he helped mold.

One other change has been you, insofar as Yoongi finally watching your concluded series for the first time. His dad insisted, saying he’d watch again with his son since it’s a really good show, and not just because he adores you greatly. But Yoongi wanted his peace and chose to watch it on his own.

He felt proud seeing you on screen. You’re made for it. Your charm and energy shine through and you express emotions so genuinely. He’d ignored his brother’s teasing that he might fall for you again, with Yoongi not wanting to acknowledge the possible truth to that.

But you’re an actual celebrity now and he’s just him. He doesn’t know how your love life has been other than the rumors of you dating some actor or model, which your agency always denied. You’d said once that most of those are just PR stunts anyway and shouldn’t be believed, so Yoongi didn’t bother spending so much time thinking if you were with someone. If any, he just hoped it’s someone who trusts and respects you, and he’d be content with knowing that you’re happy, even if in the deepest cracks of his heart, he wished it was still him.

You haven’t really left his mind, if he’s being honest. His relationship with A-reum was proof of that, so is the fact that it was your interview that got him out of his self-destructive hole to restart.

But it’s tonight out of all nights, when he pulls out the lone decent-looking jacket he has that he plans to wear to the meeting with the university faculty and sports director - which also happens to be something you got him years ago - that he thinks that maybe there’s a reason why he can’t completely move on from you. He tried and he honestly continues to, but it’s not easy when much of the happiness he remembers has you in it. You show up in his dreams sometimes, too, as if the universe is reminding him that he’s okay now, that he’s at least close to the man he once was and not just a shell of it anymore, and that maybe, you’d want to grab some coffee and see where things go.

It’s what prompts him to look up the details for your upcoming movie premiere so he could go. You worked on it the same time you were filming your series, and even if your name is one of the smallest ones on the poster as a supporting character, he already knows this is incredibly important to you. It’s your first movie, it seems, and he wants to be there to wish you luck and let you know he’s proud of you, and that if this is where your shared heartbreak led you, then he knows there’s no way he’d regret letting you go those years ago.

The woman staring back at you is someone you almost don’t recognize. Other than the glamorous champagne-colored dress that you’re wearing, there’s a smile that you haven’t seen in a long while, too. In over 3 years, to be exact. A heartbreak does that, you suppose. Your biggest supporting role in a series that wrapped up a few months ago felt too surreal for you, and you’d gone through the promotions for that feeling anxious; you barely had time nor energy to appreciate yourself nor the experience.

You do now. After the praises for your performance then and the ones from your colleagues for this, you feel that you at least deserve to smile, that you can truly claim for yourself that you’re on the way to big things, even if you know you’re far from it. You’re the most junior out of the entire cast, after all, and you’re more like a supporting role to the supporting role. You’re in the credits, at least, and you got to act alongside some of the people you look up to once more.

It’s premiere night and that calls for a big event. Jimin, your newly-hired personal assistant slash stylist, knocks on your door to say that the car is ready. You exit your room and drive from your humble apartment to the venue, feeling giddy and nervous.

“Looks like there are lots of fans tonight,” Jimin says from the passenger seat, getting news from his phone. “There’s a long line inside and outside. I heard it’s a packed cinema, too.”

“Well, it’s Song Hye-kyo. What do you expect?” You giggle. “When she’s your lead, there’s bound to be a score of fans. But that’s good for me, right? They’re there for her. I’ll just be fading into the background and no one will even notice.”

“Why would you want that?” Jimin looks at you curiously.

“You know why.”

Your unsure smile informs him of the reason and he understands. It’s gonna be tricky but you decided to not hide anymore starting tonight. You want that freedom, and you want it soon.

“But also, I’m still not used to it,” you continue. “It’s my first movie and I’m just a small part of it but it’s all still new to me. I don’t want people’s attention if it’s me looking overwhelmed, you know?”

“You’re gonna be fine, ___,” Jimin assures you. “You at least still look pretty when you look like that.”

“Hmm, that’s oddly encouraging,” you chuckle, seeing the scores of fans in the lobby before your driver heads straight to the VIP parking.

Jimin opens the door for you and leads you through the entrance. “Blow them away with your beauty, okay? I’ll see you shortly.”

You’re led towards a waiting room for the lesser-known actors, which you don’t mind. The big-name ones have their own and you’ll probably only speak with them during the afterparty later. Right now, you’re talking with your co-stars while getting a retouch of your makeup, and it helps ease your worries a bit. All you need to do is walk out to the red carpet with them and hope that the people at least cheer for you. You can worry about how you fared in the movie later on.

It’s an hour later when it starts. You walk towards the doors that exit to where the hosts and crowd are, already hearing their cheers as you wait. There’s 6 of you and cheers erupt when your names are called. You all walk out and wave at them, definitely overwhelmed by the camera flashes and shrieks of the people but you remain calm and professional, smiling the entire time and greeting them calmly. It’s more than you expected and you’re just happy to be experiencing this for the first time. It’s a moment you definitely won’t forget, and you’re glad you can at least share this with someone right after.

Your group is briefly interviewed before you’re led out to the other side to go back to the waiting room; you’ll all go to the cinema in an hour after all the actors have been introduced and interviewed. You take a detour, though, knowing you can’t really wait any longer. All the fans are inside the hall, waiting for the big stars to come out so the hallway leading to one of the building exits is empty. It’s accessible to the public but you already know that no person in their right mind would be here, so it’s the perfect spot.

You enter and wait only a few minutes before you hear your name being called. Turning around, you see him, and you feel even more excited.

“You looked gorgeous out there,” Min-kyu greets as he hugs you right away.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you giggle in his ears. “Thank you. Did I stutter?”

“Nope, you sounded great, too,” he chuckles, taking your hand. “I’m really proud of you. I’m happy I get to be here, and that we could decide on this together. I can’t have people linking you with someone else again when I’m right here.”

“You mean when I’m right here,” you tease, seeing as he’s the one always being rumored to be with some model. You place his hands on your waist as you continue. “It won’t be so hard anymore after tonight.”

“Okay. Well then, I don’t want to keep you,” he responds. “Someone might see us. But I’ll sneak in next to you in the cinema, alright?”

“Got it,” you smile giddily. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

You kiss him goodbye and assure him that you’ll see him shortly.

It’s the sound of a door closing that alarms you, breaking you out of your little bubble with the man you’ve been cozying up with for the past 7 months. It’s perhaps your longest relationship, if you could even categorize the previous ones as such. Andrew was a 3-month long fling, Ki-yong was a half-year on-off whatever, and Min-kyu has been the only one so far that you haven’t had any issues with. You’re unsure for how long it’s gonna last, but one reason why you don’t want to keep hiding anymore is because he gets linked to any woman he so much as says hi to. If whoever walked in your little PDA just now decides to do something about it before you do, then the timing wouldn’t be too far apart.

“Do you think someone saw us just now?” You ask.

“If anyone did, we’re too far for them to take any photos,” he reasons. “If they saw anything, there wouldn’t be any proof. But that won’t matter much after tonight, yeah?”

“I guess so,” you smile. “But they’re gone, so let’s go.”

You head out separately after fixing yourself, the giddy feeling from his kiss evaporating once you’re back in your world, knowing you’ll reunite with him again later. It’s a good distraction more than anything, as your mind wanders for a millisecond how it would be like if someone else were here with you, celebrating your first movie together. But that’s not your life anymore. This is. You’d like to think it’s a hundred times better than the one you left behind.

Yoongi stares at the door he’d just walked out of after seeing you in another man’s arms, something he didn’t intend to witness.

He’d seen you walk down the red carpet then proceed to the left, and he’d been too far out to catch up to you. It’s a Song Hye-kyo movie so he knows that everyone’s gonna be waiting for her, and it’s probably why the path towards one of the hallways is empty. He doesn’t know what he was thinking following you, and looking back now, he’s unsure why he thought coming to your movie premiere without you knowing was even a good idea. But after feeling stupidly hopeful that something could come out of him showing up after letting you go, he decided to come, to drive from Daegu, dress up nicely, and be swift enough to go after you before security takes him away.

He does see you. With your arms around a man who makes you laugh and clearly makes you happy. He looks like that actor who’s being rumored with a bunch of different women, but it seems like he’s locked on you. Yoongi could only hope he isn’t cheating on you or anything; that would be worse than what he’s feeling right now, and he’s feeling pretty terrible. And stupid.

Even more as he looks at the bouquet of daisies he’s holding, something that he planned to give to you to celebrate your first movie premiere. It’s probably the plainest flower out there and there are definitely more that would suit you, like dahlias and marigolds and roses - all breathtakingly beautiful and deserving of being at the center of everything just like you are.

But he’d noticed those years ago how your eyes always turned to daisies whenever you entered a flower shop. Anyone would miss it, but Yoongi’s attention is on you a lot of the time, and he’s seen your gaze linger on it, especially as they’re placed as supporting decor to a grand arrangement. He thinks it’s perhaps your way of wishing for a simple life behind all this glamor, and that somewhere in your heart, you desire someone who could give you something just as simple, perhaps someone like him.

It’s why he decided to pass by the fanciest flower shop he could find earlier and get this, so he could tell you that you could achieve whatever it is you dream of, no matter how big or small, how grand or simple. And that no matter how high you go, he’ll always be rooting for you in every way he can.

It doesn’t seem right to still be giving this to you, he thinks, but then again, it’s not like he expected to get back together just because he decided to show up unannounced on what is a big day for you. He won’t deny that he didn’t think about it, though, but he really just wanted to catch up, maybe tell you that you helped him get back on his feet. And that he’s incredibly proud of you, and that he believes you’ll just get better and bigger from here.

But as the scene of you looking happy with another man who could probably give you much more than he ever could replays in his mind, Yoongi is reminded that it’s not his place anymore, that he does not have a place in your life anymore. He made that call when he broke things off, and he doesn’t have the right to ask you for anything else after that. Even if it’s just your time.

So he walks out of the hall and into his car where he stays for a good half hour, trying to figure out what to do. He eventually decides to still give it, without the burden on you knowing it’s from him.

And that’s what he does, as he waits at your agency building lobby the next morning for the reception to clear the flowers. He’d spent the night at a hostel and was close to just throwing it and forgetting this whole thing even happened, but he braved through it until he’s unable to back out now.

“No card?” The man asks.

Yoongi looks at the piece of cardboard that he took out right before he gave the bouquet.

I’m so proud of you, ___. So much time has passed and I’m doing better. I can see that you are, too. I was in the city and thought, for old time’s sake - would you like to grab some coffee?

He slips it in his pocket and answers, “no card. But could you write ___’s name on the envelope?”

The man hums in agreement. “And who do I say this is from?”

“I’d like to remain anonymous.”

The man looks at him warily before he nods and writes your name as the only indicator that it’s for you. No other message and no trace of the sender.

“Okay, all good.”

“Thank you,” Yoongi says, walking out the building to head to his car and drive back to Daegu.

He decides to eat at a nearby convenience store, and that’s when he sees the news that confirms everything he saw last night.

Rumors no more: Actors Kim Min-kyu and ___/___ confirm 7-month relationship.

Yoongi reads the headlines over and over again, the scene from last night haunting him once more. He doesn’t know why he thought that still giving you the flowers, even anonymously, was a good idea, even more now that you’ve been dating this man for longer than he imagined.

You’ve been that happy for 7 months now. It doesn’t seem right to still insert himself like that.

He rushes towards the agency again to try to retrieve the bouquet and take it all back. He’s at the end of the street, a sprint away from the building but then he stops at the sight of you exiting. With the flowers in your arms.

There’s that crinkled smile of yours that he’s missed so much. You’re looking at the daisies with such softness, like you’re truly appreciating it, and Yoongi’s heart melts at the sight. You may not know it’s from him and perhaps that’s the best part, but it’s the thought that you seem to really like it, especially when a blond-haired man stands next to you and hands you a bouquet of roses, which you smell and smile at before returning it to him. You cradle the daisies, shrugging when you try to retrieve a card that isn’t there, and Yoongi’s relieved that of all the stupid things he’s done the past 12 hours, leaving the card out was the smartest thing he did.

A car arrives and you enter, leaving Yoongi still at the end of the street to watch you drive away, perhaps out of his life for good, at least until your next premiere where he’ll probably give you the flowers again.

He hopes that with them, you get to feel the care he has for you that never withered, that on your lowest days, you think of the admirer who believes that your love for daisies is something that matters.

Your car disappears from his sight. He resigns to this next new life without you - the one where you’re happy where you are and he’s trying to be. He’ll admire you from afar until he gets to move on from you completely.

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#yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #yoongi fanfiction #min yoongi #bts suggestive #yoongi series

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cock-ainee · 4 months

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You know what imma tell you all?

I once had my first friend. It was uhh, 5th grade of primary school? Previously, i was friendly with almost everybody.

At first she was annoying me. She was always sticking to me and i had no idea why. Only later we started talking and became friends. But it wasn't long, until another friend joined us. And for some time, it still was fine.

Then there was covid... And it was the worst shit that could've ever happened to me. When we finally came back to school i was more closed off than ever. But i still had my friends, right? So i thought.

Sometime later they both went on a trip during winter holidays. I couldn't go, so they took a girl from another class. And when they came back, that's when it started. They completely ignored me most of the time. They were just talking among them three. Well, there was also one more girl that joined at some point. And i was thrown away like a piece of trash. They were always walking down the hallways together while i walked behind them like a loser. They always sat together, leaving me alone. But when i ignored them, of course there was a problem.

I cut off all contact with them after we finished school. Because i was sure i'm going to find more real friends in high school.

A bit before that.. like, exactly 31st of december, 2022 somebody texted me (i had a Gojo pfp on fb and his name was Sukuna) and we started talking. In a really short period of time we became good friends. But with time, he started being dry. He barely texted me, until he completely cut me off, not responding to my messages at all.

One of the most hurtful situations, which literally made me cry, was when i agreed to give my friend my phone. To text him. She was texting him (as me) some sexual kind of stuff (idk we often did that, also in rp) and after i told him it was her, he said something like "could you give me her fb? She seemed cool".

In the end i think he sensed i wasn't really happy with what he said, so he gave up, but it was already there, right?

Well, high school. I was so nervous, because i was afraid of talking with people. And during my first lesson, i talked with a girl. She seemed so genuinely nice, and i felt relieved that i was somehow able to talk with her. After that, she introduced me to her friend. I was sad, because i thought that i won't have a chance to befriend her, since she already has a friend. But as time went on we started talking more and more, and they kind of separated. And she was MY friend. Well, SHE IS my friend. The best, most perfect one i could've ever got. Because that's my @beeksana !!!!

At the end of grade 1, some people from the class started being petty towards me for no reason. Then there was a tiny drama in class (not about me but i helped one of the girls there) and well, summer holidays. When we came back in september, it was a nightmare.

I was alone. Totally alone, and didn't talk to anybody. I skipped school a lot because i couldn't handle being there. Then i was absent a lot because of the winter conditions, and i missed a lot of exams. I csme back to school later though. And i had so much things piled up, i was so fucking scared. I knew it was partly my fault, but i just couldn't handle it. I skipped school again, but for a few weeks until they called my mom to school.

And during that period, i talked with my other "friend" and my cousin. The friend was a class higher than me, and i knew her from primary school. I introduced her to my cousin and they befriended each other too. But the friend has TONS of other friends. And she drinks alcohol on any occassion she gets. I never liked that.

Well, while i talked to them, instead of giving me any support, they started scolding me. Or rather my cousin was scolding me and the friend agreed like the fucking npc she is. They thought i skipped school because i was fucking lazy?? They didn't think at all how i felt mentally, especially with the hell i have at home. I told them to go fuck themselves and left them. And you know what?? I don't feel like i lost something valuable. I don't miss them. If somebody doesn't support you, then fuck them!!

And lately, i was bickering with one of my online friends which is on my kny rp group. She started calling Sanemi ugly or some shit, so i started insulting Douma (her fav character) and she got all petty. What was she fucking thinking?? She wasn't talking to me for some time anyways, and she expected me to not defend Sanemi, who comforted me more than she ever did, even though he doesn't exist???

I told her that "If Sanemi was real i'd have better chances with him than you'd do with Douma, because he strictly likes beautiful women." She got all angry, left all the groupchats, deleted my nick on our private chat and yeah. Left. And i don't think i feel any different too.

So now irl i have one person. And so what? One is better than 10 fucking liars. And so, really, you all - if somebody isn't being right with you, just leave them. You'll save yourself the trouble.

So yes Beebee, FUCK UBER 😈

#SERIOUSLY RANDOM SHIT #stupid rant

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gotankgo · 7 months

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«Cult filmmaker and trash cinema icon John Waters is finally making a new movie, a big screen adaptation of his 2022 novel, Liarmouth. It’s his first film since 2004’s A Dirty Shame. World of Reel reports that Liarmouth is set to start filming this summer in Waters’ hometown of Baltimore with Aubrey Plaza starring in the lead role.»

#john waters #aubrey plaza

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cant-get-no-worse · 1 year

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I don't understand why Barcelona fans still are asking for Messi. It's a bit ridiculous, isn't it. He left the club, like any other player, it's what happens in transfers windows. He may be a legend but he is a player and therefore subject to be bought and to play for another club, fans should accept that rather than ask him while he's playing for another club.

First, we are celebrating our title with our team - the current one, the 22 people and the staff that brought us this Liga. That's the main focus of today and the whole week.

But.

Make no mistake, this Liga is the result of a whole year of fighting from those 22 players and the staff, and they've been rightfully cheered on and showered by love from the fans. Nobody's claiming Messi won that Liga, we owe it to them. But it does not stand alone. For there to be light at the end of the tunnel, there needs to be a tunnel, and there need to be people who went through it. The 2022/2023 season is the final, bright peak of the mountain of hardships that were 2018/2019, 2019/2020, 2020/2021. It stands on top of individuals that have carried this team and took every single hit when everything - board, players - was failing. And that individual, whatever you think about it, however you want to put it, is Messi. From 2018 to 2021, the guy was alone. He broke his back trying to carry that team. He took the image hit and the pathetic trashings - the 4-0, the 8-2, despite not being his failures, have all been put to his name. The fight this team put on to win la Liga, we owe it to our current squad. But to remember where we come from, to remember the team that went through the tunnel, who was there while everything was fucking off, while celebrating our current achievements with this team, isn't disrespect towards anyone. It is merely respect towards everyone. That's precisely what this club is all about. Més que un club.

Now to answer the first ask, it's true that there have been calls for Messi throughout these past weeks — actually, since he left. I'm not going to talk about the practical reasons why his come back could serve the team, why it would not be only a political and financial move to have him back but an asset in our play too, that's another story. Rn I'm trying to explain why people are "calling for a player from another club" as you rightly put it. The reason is simple: it wasn't a simple move in a transfer window. The player didn't want to leave. It left a very bittersweet taste in everyone's mouth, a feeling of something unfinished, a hurried and unworthy ending not representative of the player's status, of what he gave the club, of his love for it nor the love the culés had for him. Being forced out of the club + the COVID situation preventing him from bidding a proper goodbye after twenty years to the public was a harsher blow than you could imagine.

I feel like a lot of people exterior to the club forget who he is for culés - and who is is, personally, for Argentinians, a whole other relationship - because of his international status. For the world, he is Messi. His very name is a brand (on which we capitalized, btw, we're no exception and the club remains a politic and financial institution), he is the superstar in the first sense of the term.

For culers, he is Messi as well, but not only. Just like Iniesta is Spain's idol while also being Barça's very own. Messi, like Andrés, Xavi, Carles, Geri, Bojan, Sergio — is from La Masia. Brought up in the spirit of the club. We saw him grow up. We saw him make his way through the C, the B, we saw him debut in the A, being taught by Dinho, Eto'o, Deco, Sylvinho. We saw him start to affirm himself in a failing team of 2006/2007, we saw him raising his Ballon d'Or at the Nou. We saw him want to leave, we saw him want to stay, we saw him play with club legends while forging his own, we saw him come back to us after every summer and international tournament with yet another failure and being torn apart by the press, we saw him run, sweat, kick, pull up comebacks, play his magic, carry a team, kiss the crest, taunt a crowd, all for Barcelona.

If you haven't experienced it, I cannot explain to you the joy and the utter pride it is to see him wear the Blaugrana colors and to have done so for the past fifteen years. I cannot explain to you the rush of emotions it is to see him kiss the crest of the club you love and to think he's ours. Before being the world's, because he is the world's, his name, influence and image go past clubs and countries, but before this, he was Argentina's, and he was ours. No player is ever above the institution (someone should tell PSG) and Leo Messi is not above FC Barcelona. But, like Xavi, Andrés, Carles, Cruyff, Guardiola, and countless others, he is at the heart of it.

So, that's why. Had he left on his own terms, like he wanted to in 2014, 2015 or 2020, fans would have an easier time accepting it because they'd know he was where he wanted to be. But it's been made very public how he wanted to stay, how finances forced him to leave and how, more recently, complicated and disrespectful his relationship with PSG had gotten. That's why some (not everyone, but I'd say a comfortable majority) people are asking for him. Now that he finished his love story with his country in the dreamiest way possible, they're calling for him to come home, and to properly finish his story with the club of his life.

Just because he is Messi, do not blame us for loving nor wanting to say a proper goodbye to Leo.

#fc barcelona #messi #anon ask #<3

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sapphyreopal5 · 7 months

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It came to my attention a little while ago that AAs have criticized my stance on Jensen's house purchase under the guise of "making fun of fan fiction". Included in the points these AAs were making pertaining my blog specifically was pertaining to how "buying a beautiful historic home was a poor choice". Yes, it was a poor choice not only from a spiritual standpoint but also for more logical, physical reasons.

There are multiple cemeteries within a 2 mile radius from this house. Maybe not close enough to be a big deal but given there are quite a few in this general area, depending on your set of beliefs this may or may not be a deal breaker.

A potentially big public health issue is there's a landfill not even 3 miles from the house. Some of the concerns with sanitary landfills include methane gas and leachate leakage, general habitat destruction at the landfill site, potential scent issues during summer months especially, more rodents, etc. While this might not be an "open air" type of landfill where garbage is not buried or otherwise separated from land outside of the said landfill, there are still potential health hazards associated with living within a 3 mile radius from a landfill. According to one cohort study spanning from 1996 to 2008 of about 250,000 people states that people who live within 3 miles from a landfill in central Italy were more likely to be admitted to a hospital or die with lung disease compared to those who lived further away from landfills. One of the biggest culprits with the reported health ailments higher in prevalence and incidence in these areas is hydrogen sulfide. While it's said that trash regulations are different from US regulations where this house is located and therefore some like that expert try to say this doesn't apply to the US, is it really that safe to live near a landfill (looking at you Love Canal)? Other studies conducted in the past which are mentioned in this paper listed on the EPA's website suggest there too are health hazards of living near landfills in the USA as well, not just Italy or even England. Point is, it may be debatable as to how "safe" it is living near any landfills let alone this one but it is nonetheless a factor one should consider when buying any home. Location, location, location as any real estate agent can tell you...

According to the Home Details per Zillow, this house has depreciated greatly over the years. Back in 2001 this house sold for $48.9 million dollars. This house was listed in September 2013 for $62 million dollars and removed April 2016. In August 2021 it was sold for $17.5 million, which is a good bit less from the $48.9 million it was previously bought for. Part of this property sold (separated into 7 separate lots, as it was once a 20 acre property) for $5 million back in May 2023 with another part of this property being listed for sale for $44.5 million. The portion of the property Jensen bought in July 2023 was purchased for $9.375 million and appears to be the main house on this property. Overall, the value of this house greatly depreciated over the years. It appears that in order to make this house actually sell the property had to be reduced in size to make it more affordable to buy. Chris Mark's property that's also for sale in Woodstock, CT property also shrunk in size. This particular house which is about an hour and 45 min Northeast from Jensen's CT property also greatly decreased in value. It seems that the decrease in number of acres included in the current price was a move done to make the house more affordable or in other words, so someone buys it. It was listed for sale in Oct 2022 for $50 million, down to $35 million in March 2023, $29.995 million in April 2023 and taken off the market in May 2023. However, the house returned to the market in July 2023 for $26 million, increased to $39 million in September 2023 and again removed early Oct 2023. The Chris Mark mansion was listed yet again 2 days before Halloween for $29 million and is still on the market as of today, February 18, 2024.

4. I mentioned this before but some people in the past speculated the Ackles may intend on opening another brewery or even a B&B at this house. According to the zoning type for this property (AAA), they would not be allowed to open any manufacturing facility on this property (or really most any kind of business), nor would they be able to have a B&B on this property per current Fairfield city ordinances. Someone else about 4 miles from the Ackles' property over 10 years ago tried to get a law passed to allow for B&Bs in residential areas, which ultimately did not pass. This same house a woman wanted to turn into a bed and breakfast was sold a few years later.

Overall, the general rule seems to be that buying houses may not be the greatest investment when crunching the bottom line numbers but this is especially true with the larger houses. Given the Ackles' history of buying homes to renovate and then eventually sell, they most likely intend to sell this house at some point down the not too distant future. Given they also probably won't make this their forever home, the cost of the upkeep of this house compared to what they purchased this house for and ultimately sell it for probably will not churn out the profits they are hoping to gain by selling down the road. If the Ackles' had any intentions of using this house for anything other than as a personal residence (which was not listed on the real estate paperwork at the time of purchase back in July 2023), their plans would/will be foiled rather quickly.

I brought up the Chris Mark house as another case where McMansions just aren't a good investment. Not only is this house not a good choice for an investment as is the case for a family like the Ackles, the location of it is in my humble opinion not the greatest overall despite it being an affluent neighborhood due to some of the landmarks in this area.

#Jensen Ackles #Danneel Ackles #Jensen speculation #spn fandom #anti AAs

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rjzimmerman · 1 month

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Climate Workers Wanted. (New York Times)

Excerpt from this New York Times story:

Three years ago, Alexsandra Sesepasara moved home to American Samoa, a remote chain of Pacific islands, with her family after more than a decade of military service. She took a job as a water resources engineer for the utility that provides power, cleans up trash and manages drinking water for the more than 49,000 residents of the territory.

But soon after she arrived, she realized that rising seas and worsening storms, fueled by climate change, had brought new problems to her homeland, while exacerbating old ones. Saltwater was seeping into the islands’ fresh water supply, shutting down schools and leading to boil water notices. In December, the issue caused a nearby hospital to close all nonessential services for nearly a week.

There was another problem, Sesepasara said: American Samoa didn’t have enough workers to fix its water issues.

But this summer, the American Samoa Power Authority, her employer, became one of nine entities across the country to receive funding under a $60 million federal program intended to help train workers to combat the growing challenges of climate change.

The climate jobs of the future, experts told me, may mean adjusting how we think of the jobs of the past: Electricians may need to learn to install solar panels, construction workers may need to deal with new engineering requirements and bankers may need to manage climate risk.

“This is a model of us adapting our jobs in real time to the reality and need of the moment,” said Ned Gardiner, a program manager for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s Climate Program Office, which is coordinating technical assistance for the grantees.

The funding comes as part of the 2022 Inflation Reduction Act, which included hundreds of billions in tax incentives for clean energy and climate programs across the country.

While most of the applications NOAA received for the grant program focused on coastal resilience and protecting marine economies, the agency was open to proposals from sectors like shipping, engineering and finance, Gardiner said.

“Every job will be affected by climate change,” said Lara Skinner, founding executive director of the Climate Jobs Institute at Cornell University. “We look at every sector of the economy, and every sector will have to change. This isn’t some little transition.”

The tax incentives in the I.R.A. could ultimately help fund more than 6,200 projects in utility-scale clean energy and storage and almost four million jobs, according to the Climate Jobs National Resource Center, a labor organization educating workers on climate action.

NOAA’s work force program isn’t the only funding for jobs included in the I.R.A. Hundreds of millions of dollars are also available to hire employees in the National Park Service and workers to expedite clean energy projects in rural America, as well as to train a new generation of Indigenous workers through the Indian Youth Service Corps.

Last year, the Biden administration also launched the American Climate Corps to put 20,000 young Americans into jobs addressing global warming.

In the short term, there’s a lot of physical work that can be done to mitigate the climate crisis, like building more flood-resilient communities.

#climate change #climate workers #Inflation Reduction Act

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caltropspress · 6 months

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RAPS + CRAFTS #22: shemar

1. Introduce yourself. Past projects? Current projects?

Yo, I’m shemar. I rap and produce under my given name. I prefer to be referenced in all lowercase (the “bell hooks” reasoning, all love if you don’t / forget to). I released my first EP sound of summer burning the body in September 2022. Since then, I’ve dropped one album (obtuse ways to say that i love you, November 2023) and a couple EPs. My most recent release is sunscreen, fully produced by the immensely talented Child Actor. I consider that EP the end of my rookie “year” as a rapper. I’m currently working on two rap albums. One is produced by Outside House and the other produced by bloomcycle. Don’t expect them anytime soon. A lot of my producer work should be releasing this year, including an album with fox, an album with baegull, a lot of songs with money for water, and wherever else the wind takes me! I hope to loosen up some while finishing all these joints. Maybe drop raps here and there, a beat tape, whatever else. I hope to be more publicly present for a majority of the year, but nothing grand, ya know?

2. Where do you write? Do you have a routine time you write? Do you discipline yourself, or just let the words come when they will? Do you typically write on a daily basis?

I tend to solidify my ideas at home. Lines come to me pretty frequently, but organizing those lines is a super mood based thing. There are times where I’ll draft up at least a verse a week for months, and there are times where I’m in an organization drought. I’ve been writing heavily for seven years at this point, and have moved on from the fear of “losing the magic” recently. It’s less that I don’t think I can lose it. I think, if I do “lose the magic,” then it’ll come back when it’s ready or I’ve done everything I can in this medium. It is what it is. I deeply admire those who have a consistent, disciplined writing schedule. That’s just not me at the moment.

3. What’s your medium—pen and paper, laptop, on your phone? Or do you compose a verse in your head and keep it there until it’s time to record?

My process bounces between my Notes app and a notebook. When I come up with lines, they stay in my phone. I have a “Poem Thoughts” note on my phone just for this purpose. My notebook comes in once I’m ready to organize those lines into a larger idea. Once I have that solid first draft, I bounce it onto my phone. From there, I might make little edits on my phone as I memorize the verse for recording. The written word is most important to me, but I care a lot about how it feels coming off my tongue. A lot of my smaller edits are just to make the verse easier to one-take. I appreciate having my solidified ideas in two places because if something happens to one tool, I can still refer to the other. I almost lost an older verse from not following this process, so I’m very particular about it.

4. Do you write in bars, or is it more disorganized than that?

I think I write in a pretty disorganized manner. My biggest rapper fear is someone I admire asking for a feature and being like, “Give me a 16,” or whatever. I can count bars; I never think about it when I’m writing though. If anything, I care more about how much time my writing takes up. I don’t really like taking up space, so my verses/songs are usually shorter to reflect that. I could never see myself having a solo song that hits four minutes, or an album that hits 40 minutes. It’s just not me at the moment.

5. How long into writing a verse or a song do you know it’s not working out the way you had in mind? Do you trash the material forever, or do you keep the discarded material to be reworked later?

It’s all in the feeling for me. Each step in my process has a moment where I can discard what doesn’t “feel right.” Sometimes when I’m in an organization drought, it might be because I’m overwhelmed by the quantity of loose lines in my “Poem Thoughts” note. So I’ll just delete the whole note and start over. The lines that are meant to be will stay with me. I practice rapping each line while I’m organizing. If anything feels wrong I just scrap it, be it an individual line or a whole verse. Earlier on into rapping, if a song got a demo that solidified, it’ll come out. Lately I’ve gotten comfortable scrapping demos, usually because I find a better beat for what I’m trying to say / how the idea needs to be presented. My favorite example of this at the moment is this song (unreleased) I have called "whomp’s fortress." The original demo was on a very different beat, a dope one still, but I’m much more comfortable with/confident in the current version. I’m very adamant that everything comes together how it’s supposed to. That keeps me from being scared about reconstructing an idea.

6. Have you engaged with any other type of writing, whether presently or in the past? Fiction? Poetry? Playwriting? If so, how has that mode influenced your songwriting?

I’ve always wanted to be a writer. When I was a kid, I wanted to write sprawling YA novels akin to Percy Jackson. Those never got past a few chapters at most, but I would envision the plots from beginning to end every single night. I started writing poetry in early high school, honestly because I wanted to be a rapper. I fucking sucked at rapping, so I thought focusing on poetry would help me become a decent rapper. I took a hella long route but I guess I was right in the end, huh?

I have many poems that I’m still proud of, and occasionally incorporate lines from them into my verses. The self-plagiarism is personal. I like the idea of treating my older self with the same reverence I give my other influences (Amiri Baraka, Henry Dumas, etc.). When I wrote poems, I was very focused on making every sentence hit. I don’t like being stripped from the full context, but if someone is gonna do it might as well make the line hard as fuck ya know? It was to the point where my poems just became bricks of text. Hearing Fred Moten’s work at a poetry festival put that idea into my head, and I just ran with it. I think that writing philosophy is still foundational to what I do now.

7. How much editing do you do after initially writing a verse/song? Do you labor over verses, working on them over a long period of time, or do you start and finish a piece in a quick burst?

After that initial draft, I spend a lot of time reflecting on my verses. I usually know what each individual line means, but I rarely grasp the personal depth of my verses until I really sit with them. I might make little changes to a verse to better emphasize certain ideas that feel urgent. I also consider my audience during editing, something I never do during earlier parts of the process. I’m not necessarily interested in being understood, but I don’t wanna be misunderstood either.

I consider unlearning a very urgent process. One major aspect of unlearning, in my opinion, entails being aware of possible violence you could be perpetuating, even in something as “small” as a word. I’m always striving to present an honest version of myself, good or bad. Simultaneously, I fucking hate those who say personal things / mistakes just for the shock value. Oftentimes shock value is just an excuse to spew reactionary bullshit. I don’t ever want my work to be reduced to that. I deeply admire artists like billy woods and Fatboi Sharif, who have really mastered shock value that isn’t regressive as fuck. All and all, when it comes to editing I try not to get in my own way.

8. Do you write to a beat, or do you adjust and tweak lyrics to fit a beat?

It’s rare that I come up with lines while listening to a beat, but I always work with a beat when I’m organizing lines. Even if the lines don’t end up on that beat, just having a backdrop to hear how the words fall is so helpful to getting that solid draft.

9. What dictates the direction of your lyrics? Are you led by an idea or topic you have in mind beforehand? Is it stream-of-consciousness? Is what you come up with determined by the constraint of the rhymes?

My lyrics are super stream-of-consciousness, a byproduct of my process. I take from my experiences with the world with the intention to reflect and learn.

Not gonna lie, I don’t care about rhyming at all, as blasphemous as that feels to say. I obviously try to do it, but I prioritize getting my shit off. There are times where I just won’t rhyme. I’m not particularly proud or disappointed about the fact. Sometimes shit just happens that way. I think as I’ve become more comfortable with / better at rapping, I’m finding those pockets where I can say exactly what I want while rhyming. It’s a cool feeling. I will always prioritize saying what feels right though, rhyming or not.

10. Do you like to experiment with different forms and rhyme schemes, or do you keep your bars free and flexible?

I used to be extremely one-track minded regarding how I rapped, but I’ve been opening up to trying more. One of my homies, baegull, has been a huge reason for this. He has a clear style, but I don’t know anyone who’s so open to molding the way they rap like him. It’s quickly becoming his biggest strength.

Recently, I’ve been focused on rapping a little slower. I think there’s always an urgency in what I write, but I’m interested in articulating that feeling differently. I don’t think I rap fast per se, but I’ve been told that all the words can be overwhelming at times. Once I start, I don’t really stop until the song is over. I enjoy that about my work a lot; it’s the style built from my work as a poet. I’ll never let go of it. Still, I’m experimenting with letting lines breathe a tiny bit more, putting heavy emphasis on certain words through my delivery alone.

11. What’s a verse you’re particularly proud of, one where you met the vision for what you desire to do with your lyrics?

"skytrain! skytrain!" captures who I am in a way no song has. I really feel it’s my best song so far. It’s genuinely difficult to describe how “me” that song is without saying “just talk to me then listen to the song,” but that’s really it. This song is a collage of people and events from my life, and even beyond it: writing during D.E.A.R time in 1st grade, visiting my grandfather in Alabama during late elementary, and references to friends from high school / early college, and more; all written under land that existed in my family long before I did. I was also just going dummy all through this song. Some of these lines are so fucking nuts, in my opinion. If you (the reader) have not listened to me before, I’d suggest that song to start (and then the rest of the EP, please and thank you).

12. Can you pick a favorite bar of yours and describe the genesis of it?

A portion from "if you can read this (morning breath)," the sixth track on obtuse ways to say that i love you:

useda watch sun and moon play favorites now resort to tentative hope uncertainty, comfortable place could never claim clairvoyance my portion of love freedom rooted

This was the first song that I intentionally wrote for that project (I wrote "speakeasy" a couple months prior). I’d consider it the closest thing to a title track for the album. I spent a lot of that time reflecting on how I love and why. I think the track as a whole, but especially these lines, captured it extremely well. I really appreciate how I used the image of the ever-present sun / moon in the sky, specifically how it seems like they’re always following us, as a representation for childhood. Like just the genuine main character syndrome we all had as kids, ya know? At those times, everything literally orbited around us. Of course that’s something to outgrow, but I also feel there’s some wholesomeness in being able to boldly claim, “I matter, I’m important.” It’s a very different feeling from the “tentative hope” that I live with now. But uncertainty has become a beautiful, comfortable place for me. The last line explains why, because my portion of love is freedom rooted. I’m uninterested in ownership, being followed, anyone’s world orbiting around me. Traditional ideas about romance haven’t served me well. Real rigid traditions aren't for me at all honestly. Who I love, when I love them, how I love them, and why, is not something I will ever apologize for. I can only hope I’m accepted for it. I think I captured that in a cool way here.

13. Do you feel strongly one way or another about punch-ins? Will you whittle a bar down in order to account for breath control, or are you comfortable punching-in so you don’t have to sacrifice any words?

I don’t punch-in. I need to be able to do a verse from top to bottom, and I write so I can do so. It’s less a beef regarding punch-ins and more just a personal desire. I love performing my raps, so when I write/record I think about the performance a lot. Usually I perform my songs slightly differently from the recording, but I love having the “one take” energy.

14. What non-hiphop material do you turn to for inspiration? What non-music has influenced your work recently?

Interviews. I love interviews so much. I read them all the time. Listen to podcasts all the time. I love hearing other artists’ perspectives. There are artists who I’ve grown to love off of listening to their music with insight they gave in an interview. I think this underground “scene” has so many platforms with consistent in-depth interviews / music discussions. I’m immensely grateful. Love to The Rap Music Plug Podcast, Freemusicempire, Call Out Culture, The Next Movement, CineMasai with Reel Notes, literally Caltrops Press. I could go on and on. There's so many. My first interview was with my homie kiluhmanjaro for his platform: ANTII, and I know his goal is to have interviews on this level. We’re blessed in my opinion.

Lately, I’ve been tapping into a lot of movies. My goal is at least one new movie a week. I saw Mo’ Better Blues for the first time at the end of last year and that fucked me up. It was so good. I’ve been obsessed with this movie for years, Monologue, directed by Adoor Gopalakrishnan. I don’t even know why I enjoy it so much, but it’s just so moving.

There’s this book, Against the Loveless World by Palestinian-American writer Susan Abulhawa. It felt like I was a kid again the first time I read through it. I finished it in like three days. Such an amazing read on a variety of levels. This book had a huge influence on my upcoming work with Outside House.

15. Writers are often saddled with self-doubt. Do you struggle to like your own shit, or does it all sound dope to you?

I’ve definitely become more confident in my art. Everything I’ve done since I finished writing obtuse ways… in Spring of 2023 is at least pretty good. I trust my ability to write more than anything. When my gut says a line is good, then it’s good. Writing alone is easy. Rap is much more than writing though. I can be hypercritical of my pronunciation while rapping. Sometimes I get super into it and listening back there are moments that to me sound like syllables kinda just crashed together. I’m also aware that’s kinda just how I talk though. Despite this, I know when I have the right take. It’s a gut feeling, and my gut is the biggest reason I am where I am right now (maybe getting a better mic helped a bit too).

When I don’t trust myself I go to my friends, be it the ones who I make music with or those who aren’t as focused on music. My art would not be able to exist without community.

16. Who’s a rapper you listen to with such a distinguishable style that you need to resist the urge to imitate them?

ELUCID is my favorite rapper. I think it’s mad obvious he’s my favorite rapper. I’m genuinely struggling to write more, because I think listening to his music speaks for itself. Go listen to "Betamax," or "strength is admired humanity is denied," or "House Keys." I could go on, and don’t even get me started on Armand Hammer verses or insane features he’s done. What rapper wouldn’t want to be on this level? I’m grateful I’ve developed a strong sense of self because if not, I don’t know man. Fuck just living rent free, ELUCID has a city’s worth of mantras in my head. I admire what he does so much.

17. Do you have an agenda as an artist? Are there overarching concerns you want to communicate to the listener?

I hope my art communicates the main thing I want: liberation for all marginalized people. Especially Black people. That’s the throughline between every syllable. I also work my art to accurately capture who I am as a person. If the listener gets it, they do. If not, so be it. I’m not perfect, and I hope I never am. I hope to be able to learn from the world up to the moment I leave it, and my art is the best means for that.

RAPS + CRAFTS is a series of questions posed to rappers about their craft and process. It is designed to give respect and credit to their engagement with the art of songwriting. The format is inspired, in part, by Rob McLennan’s 12 or 20 interview series.

Photo credit: Grace Li @graceliphotography

#shemar #underground hip hop #zines

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happypopcornprincess · 1 year

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The Heartbreak Prince - Chapter Five

Warnings: Major Spoilers for Top Gun (1986) and Top Gun: Maverick (2022)

Word count - 2.1K

A/N - okay.... this takes place in the past, most of it. but get ready because the series is ending soon. only two chapters left for this. and I really hope you like this <3 enjoy and take care <3

Italics are thoughts and/or emphasized words Taglist is open and feels free to request headcanons or drabbles on this series

Series Masterlist

My Main Masterlist

Send your requests here!

Thursday

Erin had not left her side since last night, holding her throughout her breakdown. He fed her dinner and tried to distract her with a game of charades and a story about his crazy pet iguana from when he was a kid. However, it couldn’t lift her spirits. He finally sat on her bed rubbing her back as she exhausted herself to sleep.

Careful not to disturb Erin sleeping next to her, she got up quietly. The soft sunrise light filtered through her room from the open window and her vision cleared, watching as the day started.

Another day without Dhruv.

She walked to the window and gazed at the sky slowly lighting up. She thanked any god who graced her with the strength to finally escape from the hell she was living in.

2018

November was the month of weddings in the bustling city of Kolkata, and her parents dragged her away to every wedding in her family and neighborhood to introduce their daughter, Dr Bagchi, a professor at NYU.

Nisha stood quietly in a corner hiding away from an entire group of middle-aged women staring her down with a scowl on.

The aunties gossiped about her being almost thirty and unmarried.

“They are not talking about you by the way.” She looked at the source and saw a man standing next to her.

Wearing a black kurta, matching his eyes, he sipped a cup of tea as he smiled at her, “I’m thirty-two, and I rejected the fourth girl in a row… who just so happens to be Rina auntie’s niece.” He points at a woman in the crowd wearing an extravagant lehenga, drowning in jewels.

“Wait,” Nisha sniffles a laugh, “she’s the bride’s mother.”

“…and I refused to marry the bride’s cousin.” He grimaced, looking at his chai in defeat.

“Well, you’re out of the radar for now, Rina auntie’s about to trash mouth you to every girl’s mother.”

"Oh, Prabhu Dhanyabad!" Oh, God thank you! He sighed of relief.

Nisha threw her head back in laughter and had to hold back as she attracted the eyes of every elder around her.

“Do you always laugh so loud at the misfortune of others?” he asked.

She raised her eyebrows. “Do you always reject young women and their mothers?”

The man looked at her as he took a long sip of chai, “Only when they are after my money.”

“What are you? Like a landlord or something?” Nisha scoffed.

“Or something.” He smirked, looking at her right in her eyes. The intensity of black in his eyes took her aback. They made her uncomfortable but intimidated her enough to stare back. They were hypnotic, like a whirlpool of secrets.

That should have been the first sign.

“Dhruv Maheshwari.” He extended his hand, flashing a smile.

“Nisha Bagchi.”

--/-/-/-

Dhruv Maheshwari had a pharmaceutical company in Manhattan, and his family came from old money.

Dhruv had a habit of owning anything he wanted. Be it buildings, land, paintings, you name it. Nisha cursed herself later for years for not noticing what he wanted from the start.

Her.

He wanted to own her.

Since their first date, he has tried to show her his money in any shape and form. He took her to the finest restaurants and bought her dresses and shoes a bit too flashy for her style. When she refused to accept the gifts, he would go silent for days, until Nisha agreed to accept them.

She thought after Bradley, after loving someone from one side, she was on the other side, receiving it.

She was blinded by love, enamored by his dark eyes and his addicting touch on her skin. However, he was not the fresh breeze of summer she craved ever since Virginia.

He was a pit of quicksand, slowly engulfing her entire existence to fit his vision of her.

Her mind begged her to see some sense after meeting her parents for the first time. His mother commented on her job and body countless times, and Dhruv laughed.

His parents met hers and fixed a wedding date without her knowledge.

Her birthday that year turned into a surprise engagement party with all her relatives and friends.

Every time she complained, he would hold her face in his hands, wiping tears away from her eyes. He would say, “I do this because I love you, Nisha. I love you so much and you don’t see it.” His dark eyes bore into hers as a storm engulfed the sea, and no matter how many times she tried to accept them back, to get used to them, she never could.

Her last straw was a party thrown by Dhruv’s father in honour of his only son, who then proceeded to demean Nisha’s parents and call her job a ‘fool’s dream’. His mother then threatened her to quit her job and marry Dhruv.

All the while Dhruv sat in his seat and held Nisha’s hand in a death grip, telling her not to overreact.

That night, she told him she would leave him if he told her to quit her job. It was her dream, the result of her blood, sweat and tears. Dhruv opened the main door of his penthouse and stood as Nisha left his doorstep in tears, never to return.

He didn’t call her, called off the wedding, and his parents badmouthed her family any chance they got. This was so much so that Nisha was actually glad her parents no longer lived in New York.

He sent back her things by mail, and two months later a wedding invitation to his wedding with the same girl he rejected two years ago.

Nisha had been gathering up the pieces of her shattered heart ever since that, changing colleges, dating nobody, and as much as she tries to deny it… drinking. As much as she could actually. Nobody knew about this, not even her parents. The reason she never came to The Hard Deck even after being invited so many times by Eric, was because she couldn’t stand the alcohol stench.

-/-/-/-/-/-

Bradley’s alarm startled him. His eyes shifted straight to the open window of Penny’s living room. He watched the early sunrise from the ocean.

Nisha’s face was the only thing he saw the entire night. No matter how hard he tried to sleep, he couldn’t forget how pain resonated from every inch of her face.

He recalled how he would cry harder whenever he saw her cry. He would try his wits not to, and the second he heard her sob, he couldn’t control the tears falling down his eyes.

Involuntarily his mind turned to a conversation he had with Nisha. He took a deep breath as he tried not to remember, but that memory flooded his eyes when he closed them in exhaustion.

/-/-/-/-

2001

It’s been 2 months since Carol passed away peacefully in her sleep. Bradley had cried only twice, once at the hospital after the doctors broke the news, and once when they lowered her casket.

After that, Bradley talked about everything but her. Maverick’s flat became his bed, and Nisha’s house into his Study Room. When she suggested going back to his place to study, he got up abruptly and left without a word.

He could not return to the house. Everywhere he looked, he could see his mother. Her essence was in every house fragment.

Nisha was careful around him. He was silently healing, and there was very little she could do. His good-for-nothing girlfriend left for vacation after the funeral and refused to call him.

“Can you be there?” He told her while stuffing fries in his mouth, sitting in Nisha's room after a study session.

He bought it out of nowhere. He felt Nisha freeze when he said that. After 6 months of training, the air force holds a tap-out ceremony where families congratulate the new recruits.

“Maverick, Uncle Ice, and Uncle Slider will be with the officials. I don’t have any other person to –”

“Sunny,” Nisha squeezed his hand, “of course I’ll be there” she smiled.

“Really?” He looked at her with hopeful eyes, almost as if he expected her to say no.

“How else will I get a party from you? I know you won’t give it willingly.” She laughed.

“Hey!” He throws a fry at her and she gets up, pulling his cheeks and dodging another fry thrown at her.

He was the last to be tapped out at the ceremony, by Phoenix’s family. He tried his best to keep his emotions at bay the entire evening but broke down remembering Nisha in his dorm room.

Bradley left to become a better person, and he was damn proud of becoming what he is today. However, he left without a goodbye. When he stopped drowning in grief and anger, he realized how wrong he had been all those years ago. He wanted to return to Nisha, the only true friend from his childhood.

But he couldn’t.

Why would she wait for him? He was some boy from her childhood who she trusted wholeheartedly, someone who didn't give her a second thought before leaving.

But he thought of her, after fighting with Mav, after boarding his flight to the Academy, after moving into his dorm room, after flying a jet for the first time.

He wanted to tell her everything, he longed for her while having awkward first conversations with new friends. As he ate in the mess provided by the navy, he craved her homemade food, her company after a long day at work, to tell her what was going on in his head since she understood.

He was too ashamed to return to Nisha.

And now he lost her.

Again.

“Are you done wallowing in grief like an adolescent?" Bradley frowned, following the voice as Amelia stood next to the couch. “I could play my Taylor Swift album to set the mood for you?” she huffed out.

“Amelie, not now please,” Bradley grumbled as he got up.

Amelia looked at him. His usual upbeat demeanor was forgotten. He looked sad and tired. It was so unlike him; he was a literal ray of sunshine.

"Bradshaw?" she asked before he left the room.

He replies, expecting a quick jab at his state.

“I have a friend in high school, Elsie. She has been best friends with Amira forever. They did everything together; nobody has seen them without each other. Anyone could see they were in love with each other, except them. Elsie, to be specific.”

Bradley turned to her, intrigued by the story.

“The day Elsie announced she would move to Canada for further studies, I caught Amira crying in the bathroom stall. She loved her so damn much, it hurt her so much, but she still loved her unconditionally. And before Elsie left, she realized she loved her too, but it was too late.”

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked.

“I’m just saying, sometimes you don’t see things right in front of you until it’s too late.” Amelia pats him on the back and leaves for the kitchen. “I’ll make breakfast, get ready, okay?" she smiles at him and gets to work.

Bradley couldn’t help but smile at this 16-something little girl. She had herself suffered through so much and still saw the light at the end of the tunnel.

He needed to have a talk with Nisha, soon.

-/-/-/-/--/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

A/N - Thank you everyone for sticking with me till the end of this fic! if you liked it please let me know through the asks and the comments. Any and all requests, headcanons, and drabble requests about this AU is mostly welcome. Love y'all, Take Care!

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