#time spent on getting my own likeness? 5 mins. time spent making sure i got my tattoos scars and jewellery right? significantly more

[isbergillustration]

I got covid for the first time and I'm being so brave and un-dramatic about it

[redrose10]

Chapter 14! Honestly I didn’t expect this go past 4 or 5 chapters in total so this is crazy, but I really appreciate all the feedback and love that I’ve received. I think this chapter and the next one are going to be quite the roller coaster ride.

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word count: 2,018

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

Tag list: @gimeow @kam9404 @viankiss @baechugff @gaby-93 @kayleefriedchicken @igot7fairlyoddparents @jalexad @drrookie

“Alright, I just texted Suri to let her know that I told you about the baby and that you’re really upset and trying to leave. I asked if she wanted to come over and talk this through. She said she’s on her way.”, Yoongi said taking a seat next to you. You were still nervous about this whole thing. Even though the previous week had been spent doing everything to prepare. Making sure everyone’s stories matched up. Woo-Sung came over for dinner and he was even more handsome and charming in person which made Yoongi turn into a jealous rude jerk causing a small argument, but the two of you recovered quickly. Your bags were already packed and hiding out in your room. All you had to do was put your acting skills to the test when Suri got there and make it believable.

Yoongi noticed that you were still uncertain about the whole situation by the way you kept twisting your wedding ring around your finger. A nervous habit of yours that he had picked up. Gently he placed a hand on your thigh giving it a light squeeze.

“Text me when you get to Jimins and call me if you need anything at any point. I’ll keep you updated too.”

You nodded in acceptance, “I will Yoongi. I just hope everything goes smoothly.”

“We’ll make it wor-“

There was a knock at the door that interrupted you both.

He looked over at you with a sly smile, “Show time.”

He gave you a quick kiss before jogging over to the door. You ran off to your room to wait for Yoongi to join you. It had only been seconds, but already felt like hours.

Yoongi swung open the front door greeted by a smug Suri sipping on an Iced Americano.

“Glad to see you finally came to your senses.”, she said letting herself in.

Yoongi rolled his eyes closing the door behind her.

“Should you really be drinking coffee like that right now?”

“The doctor said a cup a day is fine. You’d know that if you bothered to show up at all for our baby.”

He had to take a deep breath and remind himself to stay calm before he snapped and ruined everything.

“So where is the little boyfriend stealer? Did she leave already? I definitely want to turn her room into the nursery.”

Yoongi couldn’t believe just how delusional Suri had become. He almost felt bad for her.

“She’s still packing some of her stuff.”, he responded.

��Good. I want her out of my house.”

“Alright Suri. That’s enough now. Let’s just relax.”

While she made herself something to eat Yoongi paced back and forth a little trying to calm his own nerves. He had been trying to put on an act for you, but deep down he was nervous himself. There was a lot riding on this and he knew how dangerous Suri could be.

“I’m gonna go check on Y/N.”, he said watching as Suri already made herself comfortable. Once he entered your room he felt a sense of relief when he saw you sitting on the bed.

“Ready?”, he whispered. You nodded.

He chuckled before taking a big breath and shouting, “Y/N, can we just stop and talk about this?”

“No Yoongi we can’t. You got another woman pregnant. Do you know how embarrassing that is for me?”

“I do know Y/N. I am so sorry. Just please let me try and fix this.”

“There’s no way to fix this. You have done nothing but hurt me since the day we met when all I wanted to do was to try and love you and make this work between us. Do you know how that has affected me? What that’s done to me? How many nights I was alone and I cried myself to sleep listening to you fuck other women? And now one of them is pregnant on top of it. From now on I am merely your date for the evening when it’s required of me. That’s all. I hate you Min Yoongi.”

When you were finished you were slightly out of breath and felt a burning sensation in your eyes as your vision blurred from the tears that were forming. At that moment you realized that maybe you weren’t acting so much after all. Yoongi seemed to realize too as he grabbed your hand and pulled you close to him wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in the crook of your neck. He squeezed you so tight you had a hard time catching your breath. “I’m so sorry Y/N. It will never happen again. I swear on everything that I will never intentionally hurt you again.”, he whispered in your ear.

When you pulled away he wiped away your tears before handing you the small bags you had already packed and opened the bedroom door for you giving you a kiss.

“Call me later.”, he mouthed.

“Go fuck yourself Yoongi.”, you yelled followed by a smirk that turned to a silent giggle watching him act dramatically hurt by your words.

Slamming the door you stormed off towards the entrance way not even paying Suri any attention, afraid that you might blow it all and laugh if you looked at her.

Once in the hallway you took a moment to catch your breath and compose yourself. You were quite proud of your little performance and it felt great to finally get some of that aggression out.

You texted Yoongi once you got to Jimins to let him know you were safe and to ask how everything went once you left. According to him Suri believed everything and was beyond happy you were out of the picture.

The following week should’ve been relaxing in theory, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Yoongi called you every day and even snuck over to see you after work a couple times. He reassured you nothing had happened with Suri and he had managed to convince her to sleep in the other room without much of a fight. She seemed to just be basking in the glory of thinking she finally won. You also had the bonus of spending a lot of extra time with Jimin, the two of you spent most nights up late watching tv and snacking on various goodies while partaking in the occasional gossip.

Your worries came to the forefront of your mind on Friday and everything quickly came crashing down around you. It was the day before you and Woo-Sung were supposed to head over to Yoongi’s to get some more of your things. Jimin had headed to the office pretty early that day and you hadn’t heard from Yoongi yet so you spent the day alone.

While laying in bed you could hear your phone ringing from its spot on the table where it was charging. Really you wanted to just ignore it and let it go to voicemail, but then you got worried something could be wrong. Walking over you saw a familiar name flashing on the screen.

Mrs. Chan lived next door to you and Yoongi. She was a tiresome older woman who had more time on her hands than she knew what to do with which led to constant complaints on her part. Always little things that most people wouldn’t even notice. You once heard from the security guard that she complained to the manager of the apartment complex where you all lived that she didn’t like the color of the red lettering on the exit signs around the building. They were too bright and she demanded a more muted red be installed. It still makes you laugh thinking about it. The only reason she even had your number was because you watched her dog one time while she went on vacation a few months ago. Something you’ve regretted ever since. You weren’t really in the mood for her, but once again your anxiety got the best of you and you answered the call to make sure nothing bad happened back home.

“Hello Mrs. Chan. How are you doing?”

“Oh well I’d be a lot better if I didn’t have to walk past your husband and his mistress all over each other like a couple of horny teenagers out in the hallway of our apartment building.”

Your mouth went so dry you didn’t think you’d be able to breathe.

“Honestly dear, I don’t know why you let him act like that. You know if that was my husband, I’d put itching powder in every single pair of underwear he owned.”

Your brain was still having a hard time even forming words.

“Y/N, are you there?”

“Y- Yes Mrs.Chan. I’m sorry about that. Are you sure it was Yoongi.”

“Certain of it. I just saw him about ten minutes ago when I was coming back from visiting my daughter. He had his lips all over her, but I could recognize him. I could smell that cologne he always wears. You know, that cinnamon and vanilla smell. He was with that woman. You know long brown hair. Pale skin. I’ve seen her around many times. Looks like she’s starting to get a little bit of baby bump too. That’s definitely not a good look Y/N.”

The walls felt like they were closing in around you. It certainly sounded like she was describing Suri and who else would she be with other than Yoongi. You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream. You thought you were going to be sick. After all the begging and pleading and promising he did, he still went ahead and broke your trust and it didn’t even take a full week. For all you knew he probably slept with her the night you left for Jimins.

“Alright dear, well I have to get going. Just make sure you say something to your husband or next time I’m gonna get out the spray bottle.”

“Yes Mrs. Chan. Thank you for calling me.”

With shaking fingers you placed your phone back down in its place.

Biting your lip you chuckled to yourself while you replayed in your head what you just heard.

That was the very last straw. You no longer felt like just relaxing in bed. You don’t want to just sit here and cry and feel sorry for yourself. Jumping in the shower you scrubbed at your skin, shaved, and lotioned up. You put on some make up and added a few light curls to your hair. Then you started digging around through the hall closet where you knew Jimin stored various articles of clothing left behind by old girlfriends and one night stands. You hoped you could find something decent in your size since you only packed your comfy clothes and needed an outfit that was more risqué to go along with what you had planned. Thankfully you found a skin tight black silk dress and a pair of strappy heels. They were a size too big, but you’d have to make it work. Taking a final glance in the mirror you were happy with your work. You took off the large diamond ring that you’d been wearing since Yoongi gave it to you at the start of your marriage and placed it down on the dresser not wanting that reminder to follow you right now. You started walking towards the door and while you took the steps you pulled up your contact list on your phone scrolling for the name you were looking for, the one person who had really been getting under Yoongi’s skin recently.

Once you found it and clicked dial it only took a few rings for a familiar voice to answer.

Putting on your best fake smile you reached for the door handle while putting your plan in motion.

“Hey Woo-Sung, it’s Y/N. I was wondering if you were free tonight. Maybe we could hang out and get to know each other a little better. I could come over to your place if you’d like. Yoongi doesn’t have to know.”

[satoruxx]

any study tips?? 🙃

ugh babe i got you dw!!!! i promise i’m not the best studier but these are usually what help me lock in :33

pomodoro method on top!!!! i swear by it—literally the only way you can get me to focus for long periods of time. basically you set a timer for a reasonable time to study and during that time put everything distracting away. lock in for that time (i find that keeping the timer in front of me helps) and then after that you get a set time for a break. i started off doing 25 mins of studying and then 5 mins of break which helped me get into the cycle of staying honestly focused for those 25 mins... after that i started increasing the times. so now i do like an hour and ten mins of studying and then a 20 minute break (this is enough time to watch an anime episode which is soooo motivating to get through the hour of studying)... anyways yes this is my go to for long study periods :33

also idk if it works for you bc everyone's different but i cannot hardcore study in my room. i'll get distracted by my bed and whatnot... so i recommend changing your location. like if i go to the library, i feel obligated to finish my work bc i can't go home without feeling like i wasted my time making the trip there. so... find a nice library/cafe/anything else and sit there to do work !! it changes the vibes completely :33

also idk what you're trying to study but my studying usually involves lots of memorization heavy content... so one thing i will say is do NOT waste time taking notes. i learned this the hard way while studying for the mcat. every time i was reading a chapter i spent so long on it bc i was speding time writing the most detailed notes. and then when i went back and tried to remember things i couldn't remember shit without my notes. for memorization and conceptual things, active recall is best in my experience. use things like flashcards so you're not deluding yourself into thinking you know things when you really don't... i learned more in a week of studying with flashcards than i did in two months with just note taking. obviously not bashing note taking ofc but just make sure you don't get caught up in it and waste your time :>

some other lil things are trying to study w someone else (who won't distract you lmao) and using them as student... try to teach them the concepts to test your understanding. and if you don't get something have them teach it to you. it helps solidify things if you can put it into your own words. also if you are studying at home especially, make sure your surroundings are nice. even if you think it doesn't bother you, studying in a cluttered or messy area does not produce the same motivation and results as a nice one. even just going to sit by a window so i get afternoon sun makes me feel so much more motivated to study bc i feel like it's aesthetic. your study area matters!!

ugh nonnie babe i could go on and on about this i swear i haven't had a period in life where i wasn't studying... but hopefully these are helpful !! lmk if you have any more questions, especially if you have a specific thing you're trying to study !! i'll see if i can come up with anymore tips that helped me :33

[thegodthief]

What do you want to be having conversations about?

(also you should have some or the rest of your ice cream today)

-Sunlight

I keep forgetting the ice cream is still in the freezer! A perfect pint, still sealed and waiting for my indulgence. (sigh)

Honest Confession: I have no idea how to make small talk.

Now that the heat wave in SoCal has ended and we actually have a cloudy and sodden morning, I've been watching the evacuation warnings and orders for the three big fires here slowly being downgraded and rescinded. So there's some good news.

I spent the week going through clutter that I had been putting off for years. After all the paperwork was sorted through, it was 5% keep and file, 5% shred, 90% toss. So much unnecessary stuff that at the time felt critical but in hindsight, was just so much unnecessary stuff. Found some things that hurt to look at, but that's my past, not my present, process and move on.

Old Bitch Advice: You are never too old to put whipped cream on your hot drink. If anything, your age is justification enough.

I want to talk about witchcraft again, but I don't know how. My entry into witchcraft wasn't by books, movies, or by a strange relative with strange amulets and good candy. The path that led me to witchcraft started at a Christian church's altar, and it really does infuriate me to see folks going on about how their witchcraft is not violent or is filled with love for all things so when you see people being different in their witchcraft, they're just being loud for no reason.

The scars on my ribs would like to have a conversation with the hands that would have held me down for the sin of being different. Because it took decades for me to see and understand, but my witchcraft is violent. It is not fueled by the love for all things, but by the love of the self, the love of my self, the fervent desire to live that could not be exorcised from me no matter how diligently the flesh was tested.

It feels like no one wants to talk about that. But a lot of people will throw money at the aesthetic of that. As long as we don't talk about that now, because we're all part of a modern and civilized society.

(deep sigh)

I want to talk about my dreamwork again. I realize that I never will. It's not just that having a full time job now devours much of the time I would have used typing up what happened. It's not just that the only readers will be scraper bots looking for new sources to plagiarize. It's that things have become so complex that even readers from the Before Times (before the lockdowns) would be hard pressed to keep up.

I'm sorry, I'm guessing you sent that ask to cheer me up and to help me connect with others again. And here I am, looking at the barriers I have put up and realizing that I am as much in my own way as the culture I am bitching about.

And I don' t know how to come around that.

Just like I don't know how to beat Shamura's ass (Cult of the Lamb) without taking a hit in the process. I am one achievement away from 100% and that damn spider is getting on my last nerve. I didn't get into the game until after the follower level cap so I missed that chance. Will create a new save file for the sole purpose of snatching that bandage off their head. They are just too strong in post game, so my strategy is to min-max the cult from the start until I get to Silk Cradle, and then I will be subject to the whims of RNG for the perfect combo. Keep that damn blunderbuss away from me, purgatory is for the bishops, not for me.

Back on Etheirys, I have finished the MSQ, but haven't started on any optional dungeons or the Arcadion. I know I have plenty of time, so I've been working on leveling the other classes to 100 instead. All the other classes. I'm not sure if this is a cry for help. As much as Warrior got buffed, Dark Knight got neutered. I didn't understand why the fuss over the changes to Black Mage until a raider explained to me what those changes meant in Savage raiding because the changes to the timing and cooldowns have pretty much scrambled everything.

Once I get my crafting classes up to 100, then I will enter the real endgame for FFXIV: GLAMS!

My apologies for the word vomit. I didn't think anyone would actually ask me anything and I don't know how to respond in a socially adequate way.

(looks out the window)

And now it's too cold for ice cream.

[koiyan-hades-kid-with-a-system]

Camp/Underworld Quotes #5

Koiyan, running the Blood Bank and cooking for the Dionysus kids: Why am I mothering kids that are not my own head-mates?

Shadow, from the headspace: Mommy issues.

Koiyan: Gods damn it why must you be right Shadow-

-

Zagreus: Are you drinking enough water?

Koiyan: Sometimes my tears get in my mouth.

Zagreus: Nope, we're going to the fountain chambers and make you drink actual water.

-

Cyrilla: All the sudden I got a random burst of energy, and I think it's my body's last hurrah before it completely shuts down.

-

Koiyan: Being smart has never stopped me from being a complete fucking idiot.

-

Cyrilla: If I die, you can have what little I own.

Koiyan: Wait. What do you mean "if" you die?

Cyrilla: My unending existence is fuelled by pure spite, that of which the painful experiences of life have rendered me full.

Koiyan:

Koiyan: *Sighs* Let me call your therapist again.

(Honestly it could be flipped as well)

-

Koiyan, having just switched back to front for the first time in months: Onion rings are vegetable donuts.

Cyrilla, used to Koiyan being dumb after switching: Sure...

Koiyan: Your stomach thinks all potatoes are mashed.

Cyrilla: Okay?

Koiyan: Lasagna is spaghetti flavored cake.

Cyrilla:

Koiyan: Lobsters are mermaid scorpio-

Cyrilla: Jesus, that one is a little-

Cory, interested: No, no, Koiyan, keep going.

-

Zagreus: You spent all our money on THIS??

Koiyan, putting tiny raincoats on ducklings: They live outside. They need this.

Zagreus: Lucifer is fronting isn't he?

Koiyan: Yes.

-

Koiyan: I told Thanatos that their ears turn red when they lie.

Cyrilla: Do they?

Koiyan: No.

Cyrilla: Then why did you tell them that?

Koiyan: Because I can do this.

Koiyan: Hey Thanatos! Do you love us?

Thanatos, with their hands over their ears: No.

-

Zagreus, coming in late: Sorry I was late, I was doing stuff.

Thanatos: I was stuff.

-

Koiyan, Zagreus, and Cory: What’s up? I’m back.

Cyrilla: I literally saw you die. You died. You were dead

Revival trio: Death is a social construct.

-

Cyrilla, holding up their class notes: And then this doodle of a burrito because when I first read Aristotle, I thought it was pronounced like “Chipotle”.

Cyrilla, in shock: Wait a minute, is it “Chip-o-tottle”?

-

Koiyan: Slash gamemode creative.

Cyrilla: Dude, this isn't Min-

Koiyan: *starts levitating*

[oubliette-odette]

The Reluctance of Love Pt. 6

Orc Male x Half-Elf Male, Fated Mates, Forbidden Love, Slow Burn Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 Word Count: 2148 (average 16 min read) Content Warnings: mention of mating, nothing happens....yet ;) All orcish is from orcishdictionary.com, created by Matt Vancil. Not beta-read. Criticism is welcome, but be sure to distinguish criticism from hate.

Altan POV

It had been ten days since Drunrag left to find a way to stop lordhovid. I didn’t want to tell Drun and worry him, but I was becoming restless with him gone and things got progressively worse for me. The first few days he had left, I felt like I was able to stay composed rather well. I would visit the markets and spend my evenings in the tavern below my room, sometimes playing my lute which helped me to pay for the extra nights that I hadn’t planned on staying there. Some of the patrons would comment on my flushed composure, but I chalked it up to being new in town and unfamiliar with the warm temperature and that I was sensitive to the fire from the giant hearth in the tavern. But there eventually came a boiling point - for lack of a better word - where I would wake up with a flame inside me that was insatiable. There was nothing that could abate how utterly starved I was to be near Drun.

I spent the latter days in my room at the inn, the door locked. The bedsheets were on the floor because they were too much for me. I would try to read or play or write music, but I usually ended up lost in a heated daze, caught between daydreams of Drun and the fuzzy reality around me.

I still felt that hunger in our dreams, though thankfully not as strong. I would see him, see his beautiful austere visage all nervous and quiet. He looked like his skin was cool and I wanted to press my hand to his and let my burning flesh be cooled by his. But he would always hold back. He was so gods damned respectful of my space. And I honestly wish he wouldn’t be. I was dying to be touched by him. I wanted to know what his tusks would feel against my skin as he kissed my neck. Or how those rough hands would run coarsely against my waist. 

Gods, I was a mess.

I knew my father would strike me if he ever caught the sight of me during that time. I was overheated, over aroused, and desperate to be touched by a man - an orc no less. All of those things were unacceptable to him. 

He could honestly go fuck himself for all I cared.

Those nights, dreaming with Drun were the moments I held my breath for every night. I liked seeing the way his eyes struggled to meet mine, but when they did, he seemed to struggle looking away. I like how when I said his name, his eyes would also grow wide for just a few moments and his lips would twitch to a dazed smile. He was easy to please, incredibly shy and hard to get him to say more than a few words. But I loved asking him questions, I loved watching how deeply he thought about each question, taking his time and pondering. He reminded me of a tree sometimes. He was large like a tree trunk and tall, but he was deeply rooted and not in a hurry to rush to the next thought. Meanwhile I felt like I was nothing more than a squirrel that climbed up and down his limbs again and again and again at rapid speed. Every minute in his presence had my brain whirling at what to say next, to resist telling him how handsome he was to me, to not talk too fast and overwhelm him. 

I learned how patient and kind Drun was through those conversations, and it started to make a little more sense each night why this mating situation was so hard for him. For him, he really needed to think things over and really mull over his decisions. Lordhovid took away the chance to think about his choice from him and it really affected how he viewed his people’s culture. I could tell he struggled with the reality that his way of thinking was so different from his family, but I couldn’t help but admire his devotion to his own personal truths. 

I never pressed him on how he was doing in his journey. I dreaded to know if he was close to finding a way to stop lordhovid and there was secretly a hope that maybe all of these dream conversations would help him change his mind. 

So I didn’t expect it when one afternoon I was laying my head against the pane of glass in my room when suddenly I felt my body temperature reduce - like a fever had broken - and I lifted my head, sensing the clarity and focus I had lacked for so many weeks. Everything was suddenly in intense focus and I looked around my room - an absolute disaster - and realized that I was fine. I was…normal.

I didn’t know what my reaction was at that time. It was stuck between relief at finally being free and my muscles loose from their tension, but also stunned and sad. 

Drunrag did it. He had managed to rid himself - and me - of the mating instinct that kept us tied together. 

It also meant that Drunrag now had no reason to ever see me again. Nothing was pulling him to me like before. I realized that with a sense of dread and hopelessness. He was so determined to not sleep with me. So determined to be rid of our connection. 

Doubt crept in almost immediately - maybe Drun had only been nice to me because he could distract me while he removed lordhovid. Maybe he was only nice to me because I told him he was my first real friend and he felt bad for me. Maybe he won’t come back now that he’s rid of me. Maybe he hated how easy I was to be wanted by him, just like my father hates me for it. Should I wait for him? Do I tell him everything I felt for him?

I shut my eyes tight and willed the thoughts away. No, Drun would come back and we would be…friends.

I sat, stunned in my room. I looked around and groaned at the disaster I had lived in for the last week while Drun had been gone. The sheets, sweaty and crumpled on the floor, next to a pile of unwashed clothes. A pile of plates that needed to be returned to the tavern downstairs was sitting at the small table in the corner.

I sighed. There was nothing I could do about Drun right now. I uttered a small prayer to Alunis - the Sun God - that Drun would return to me safely and I got to my feet and set about getting my life back in order. I would wait for him, my Drun, to return to me. I had not planned to stay here as long as I had, but I would be careful. I promised not to do anything stupid while I waited.

I gathered the sheets and the clothes and with a few extra coins and a smile, I gave them to the innkeeper’s wife to wash. Her services were thorough and as she took my linens in a basket to a counter behind her, she looked me up and down and told me I was too thin and in need of a good bath. She shoved a plateful of food into my hands and sat me down. I felt her eyes watching me, making sure I took every bite before she lifted me by the collar and pushed me out the door with a token to the bathhouse to get myself cleaned up. 

I wandered the streets, still dazed. I wasn’t used to feeling so normal yet. For the past almost three weeks I had been in a state of feverish tension, and my muscles still felt the soreness of being caught in that state of tension for so long.

The bathhouse was quiet during the middle of the day and there were only a few other patrons there. I had never experienced a public bathhouse before. Having the father I did meant that I lived in constant privilege which included private baths. The man at the entrance took my token and guided me to a room to leave my clothes, before stepping out into a large room with a pool of hot, steaming water. I glanced around nervously, catching nobody’s gaze as I stepped into the steam-filled room naked and shivering. It was commonplace for these folk for everyone here to be nude, but I found myself unaccustomed to it and unsure where to keep my eyes.

Once in the water though, I felt my body relax and I breathed deeply, letting the steam fill my lungs with that wet, humid air. This was heavenly. I sighed and sunk my head into the water. My hair had been neglected these past few days and I apologized profusely in my head to the old woman who used to care for it for me.

I kept my eyes closed and I let the warm water wash away the sweat and the history of the last few days from my body. I reveled in being myself again, as much as it caused me angst to know what that would mean next. I stayed until my fingers and toes were wrinkled and I stepped out, dripping and wet and padded back into the room where my clothes sat. I reached for a clean towel from a pile and tousled my hair dry and padded myself off. My clothes were still not clean - but I suffered the experience of putting them back on with a promise that I would wear clean clothes as soon as I got back to my room. 

I turned to step out of the bathhouse when I bumped into a large, sturdy chest. I yelped and stepped back, blinking in alarm. 

I saw the red phoenix insignia on his chest before I saw his face and I felt my body go cold. 

No, I thought, my mind racing, they found me, they found me, they’re going to take me away from Drun. 

I shook my head, panic already settling into my bones. 

“Altan Hilmar, son of Archduke Taliesin Hilmar?” The man asked. His voice was low, unfeeling and commanding. He looked to be in his fifties, with a full beard and brown eyes that looked down at me as if I were nothing more than a petulant child. 

I shook my head again.

He didn’t react to my reluctance to answer, instead he continued, “You are to return to Berdusk where your father will enact the proper consequences for running away.”

“Please.” I breathed, “I can’t go back to him. I won’t go.”

“My orders are clear, young Hilmar, you will come with me to Berdusk.”

“Have you no mercy?” I pleaded. “I will not cause my father any dishonor, but please don’t make me leave. I have to stay here.”

“I am a patient man, Hilmar.” The man continued. “But I also will not tolerate bargaining. I only obey one master, and that is the honourable Duke Hilmar. Now, after you.” He gestured to the door, I looked out and saw that there were two other armoured men with the same insignia on their chests waiting for me. 

I couldn’t bow my head in defeat, I couldn’t cry. Not in front of these men. They all watched me closely, carefully. I’m sure they all saw me as some spoiled, rich son of the duke who ran away to be reckless and ungrateful. They probably saw me as weak and useless without any notable skill, but I would not let them see me shrink under their stares. My mother told me my strength was different. I raised my chin high and regarded the man before me. “I will need my belongings.” I said.

“They have already been collected from the inn you were staying at.” The man answered. “Now, move along. We’re taking you home.”

There were too many thoughts in my head as I walked between the line of guards that led me through the walking streets until we arrived upon the stable where a carriage was waiting. I looked down one road, knowing that it led to Drun’s forge. I felt a stutter in my heart as I realized that Drun would return to find me gone.

It was then I could no longer hold my head up strong. I had no way to tell him where I was going. That I wanted to stay. That I was so fond of him, and I admired him and was so grateful that he trusted me and that we were each other’s first friend.

I wish I could have told him that I was falling in love with him.

[idontknowreallywhy]

Best Jupidad Moments #1 Nevermoor - Ch 3 - The First Meeting

Figured I’d start to collate some of these in an attempt to analyse what it is that makes this the most beautiful father/daughter dynamic in fiction.

Herewith my ramblings (you have been warned…)

He stood with his feet wide apart and hands stuffed into trouser pockets, leaning casually against the doorframe as if he had spent half his life standing in that spot and couldn’t think of a place he felt more at home. As if he himself owned Crow Manor and the Crows were merely his dinner guests.

His eyes locked on to Morrigan’s. He grinned. ‘Hello, you.’

There’s something about how he says “you” here, rather than saying her name. It’s so familiar, so personal and it straightaway elevates her to the most important person in the room - he doesn’t NEED to say her name, it is obvious she is why he is there. It’s all about her now (whereas 5 mins ago even her ‘last meal’ was painfully NOT about her at all).

And he grins, probably nobody has ever looked at her and seemed happy before and I get the impression that people usually avoid looking at her at all (ref the fact she isn’t allowed to make eye contact). I feel this must be part of why she so quickly trusts him because he’s the first person ever to give her the impression her existence is a positive thing.

‘Mourn the death of your daughter?’ echoed Jupiter. He took two deliberate steps towards Corvus and paused, his eyes glittering. The hairs on Morrigan’s arms stood up. Jupiter’s voice dropped an entire octave, and he spoke with a cold, quiet anger that was terrible to behold. ‘Can you possibly mean the daughter standing right in front of you? The one who is demonstrably, superbly, brilliantly alive?’

Immediate shift to the other heart melting facet to our Jupidad - the protectiveness. We find out later he’s been watching her for a while and I really get a sense at this point that he is SO APPALLED with how callously she’s been treated her whole life.

Whereas Corvus appears unbothered by how his words impact his daughter, Jupiter is the opposite - despite the fact he isn’t speaking to her directly he picks his words for her benefit - “superbly” “brilliantly”. Bet she’s never heard them said about her before. He’s also underlining how superb and brilliant life itself is, hopefully giving her the courage to answer the next question…

Morrigan,’ said Jupiter, in a voice very different from the one he’d just used with her father. ‘Don’t you want to live?’ 

Morrigan flinched. What sort of a question was that? ‘It doesn’t matter what I want.’

‘It does,’ he insisted. ‘It matters so very, very much. Right now it’s the only thing that matters.’

He absolutely shifts tone when speaking to her - this isn’t a guy who loses the plot or can’t control his temper when he gets angry. He puts the very justifiable anger away and immediately replaces it with compassion.

He also doesn’t dismiss her feelings - he understands why she thinks the way she does but he doesn’t let her stay in that mindset. He doesn’t just tell her what to do, he doesn’t say “don’t be daft, we’ve got to run” but instead takes the time to help her realise she has the right to decide her own fate, because despite what she’s been told for 11 years what she thinks DOES matter.

And then he waits to hear the words from her, despite the Hunt closing in outside (who he knows will likely kill him too if he opposes them, he must be at least a little scared for himself as well as her).

I think that Jupiter is already chipping away at the abuse and lies that have defined Morrigan’s life and he’s only been in the room 10 mins.

The windows began to rattle. There was a faint smell of burning. ‘What’s that?’ She squeezed his hand automatically. ‘What’s happening?’ Jupiter leaned down to whisper in her ear. ‘Do you trust me?’ She answered without thinking. ‘Yes.’ ‘You sure?’ ‘Positive.’ ‘All right.’ He looked her in the eye.

And so she trusts him implicitly. She squeezes his hand like a little girl might her Daddy’s when she needs reassurance. If he hadn’t already demonstrated that he has her best interests firmly at heart it would have been weird that she does this so soon, but it isn’t because he has.

Again, he looks her in the eye.

[aajjks]

pajamas!! https://pin.it/1d3Qfa2

TPOL!JK

“here hun, cut the vegetables for me” you say to jungkook while ji-ae decorates the home and watches jaemin, jia, and jin-sun. jungkook makes kimbap while you make kimchi gumbo, a recipe your mother made all of the time when you were younger and everyone in the jeon residence loves it especially jaemin who keeps begging you make cookies with him.

“can we make cookies now, mommy?”

“how about now? can we make them now?”

“NOW can we make cookies, mama?” jaemin begs and when you tell him later AGAIN he pouts and gives you those big puppy eyes that remind you so much of jungkook. like jungkook, jaemin can’t go 5 minutes without being attached to your hip and you find his clinginess so endearing that you can’t find it in you to tell him off.

“you wanna help mommy make the gumbo?”

“mhm. please?”

“okay min buuuuut what does my little chef need to do first?”

“uhhh WASH MY HANDS!! i have to wash my hands mommy”

“yes so go wash them okay? make sure you put your apron and chef hat on!!”

you say as you watch jaemin run to the bathroom and wash his hands. jungkook watches the encounter and is so endeared by your closeness to jaemin but there’s that jealousy again. he’s so thankful for the joy in his family despite all the things the two of you have been through, he’s still head over heels and he’s still happy.

after the fun time spent cooking and getting refreshments together, the party you all have is a pajama party and because jungkook has such an expensive taste, everyone is wearing matching armani pajamas including your twin infants.

“ouu, put there hair clips in hun. you’re gonna look so cuuuute” you giggle as you take the clips and apply them to jungkook’s hair to keep it behind his ears.

“you look so cute. i love you so much” you say as you wrap your arms around jungkook’s neck and pull him in for a sweet kiss, finally alone in your bedroom.

“what’s going on in that head of yours huh?”

“‘S just the other day.. Jaemin asked me a question about his birth and what was really my reaction? he’s so young, but he was so curious about that I was really surprised and I couldn’t help but not answer him because I got so lost in my thoughts, as I got flashbacks.” Jungkook confesses to you as the guests are still not here and you guys have a little time to yourselves so he decides to tell you.

Of course, the oldest one doesn’t know that you’re not really his birthmother, and Jungkook doesn’t plan on telling him anything about his actual birth giver. And he remembers what was exactly his reaction when he found out that Jaemin was born.

“Y-Yn that’s not my son.”

Those were the first words he said, after finding out about the news. So Jungkook closes his eyes and nozzles his face into your neck, “y-yn he’s still so young but I fear that maybe he’ll find out and he’ll be heartbroken..” jungkook confesses, but like the sweet wife, you are you just take him into your arms and try to calm him down.

“My baby can’t know.” He says weakly and you try to assure him that he won’t really find out even if he does.. that’s inevitable. And he knows that you love him as your own, you love him so much.

So he quietly whimpers into your neck and you both just spend some time together before you hear a commotion. “Ah the kids.. our friends are here.” Jungkook rolls his eyes because he was really enjoying being in your embrace.

“MOMMY DADDY! Loook!!” There’s Jaemin screaming at the top of his lungs when he bought his best friend, ahnjong.

And with the four year old boy, his father is also accompanying him. “Hey man! Hey yn!” There’s jungkooks best friend.

Eunwoo gives jungkook a wink, because as always he’s got a dirty mind. “You go kids, play in uncle jungkooks garden and don’t trouble your mommy.” The boys nod before they are running away.

“Yn can I have your man to myself now?” Eunwoo bows down, teasing you. You laugh and allow him to take away your husband. While you spot his wife and jorja together and they’re waving at you as you come out of your house, in the garden.

“HEY YN!!!” Alina enthusiastically claps her hands. “ it’s been so long last time I saw you it was at the time of the twins birth!” She remarks and jorja goes all in to hug you.

“GIRLIE WE MISSED YOU SO MUCH. LOOK AT YOU GLOWING.” She teases you about your postpartum glow and it’s not like she’s not glowing herself because she also had a baby like a week after you.

Alina sits down and you go in to hug her yourself. “Aw so sweet thank you my feet are actually killing me.. and ahn doesn’t make it so easy either.” She rolls her eyes.

“also, I’m guessing the twins are sleeping?” She asks you and you nod, and then your attention goes back to your husband with the group of his friends.

It’s like you’re gonna have a really good time tonight.

“I’m sorry but I’m already hungry. Where is the food?” Jorja asks before getting up.

[iwannaban0nym0us]

Ok, i've had a hell of a weekend (in a good way for once!)

So we had an off season robotics comp this past weekend and most of the senior leads couldn't make it so I was in charge of fabrication on my own for the first time,,,

Anyway, we barely had any time leading up to the comp and our telescoping arm was broken from the end of last season and so fab was like "ok, let's just duct tape it and do cube shooting" but design was very against that and decided to come in during lunches to get it done, and every time they would complain about it or push back the deadline fab would suggest to duct tape it

Now cut to Friday morning (day of load-in): I have a class in the shop and I find 2 design people still trying to fix the arm (that they supposedly fixed last week) and apparently it was fixed but it broke the day before and they just like didn't tell anyone

Now while that is still happening I have to go to my block 2 class and have a test, yay!

Next, lunch, that was a lot:

me and 2 friends had to practice our presentation that we were to give the next day at the comp about our team's outreach

then we see a message that says that programming hasn't finished packing so we go to check in on them and they are just finishing up packing

and then we stop by the shop again and find design still trying to fix the arm, and this time we bring a programmer with us to again try to convince them to just duct tape the arm (they say no and that it'll be done in 5min, it was not done in 5min)

after that I finally have time to eat but idk where my friends have gone but I do end up finding M on their own in the courtyard and so I go talk to them while I eat

I end up finding out that they just realized that A most likely does like them (romantically), and uh that's not something they're excited about

and so I give them an excuse to avoid A the rest of lunch and just talk to me and I also mention that the robotics comp is at the high school really close to their house and if they wanted to I'd be happy if they came

first class after lunch I have calc and at this point I have not had a break all day and so since my calc teacher spent the entire time talking to the board and going over the hw I end up just skipping half of class and it was an all around win-win scenario because, I missed nothing, he didn't care, I got a bit of a break, and I helped out some friends who had physics that block

then i've got one more class and it's pretty chill and i'm able to leave a few min early to go to the shop and start packing

then 3-4pm I frantically pack the van (w/ help) and try to make sure we don't leave anything behind and I also task some people w/ collecting tools from shop (since we can't do that till last minute because they're needed for classes. At this point as far as i'm aware the robot is working

then once we get there we have 5 of us to unpack all of the heavy stuff and move it all the way to the pit and get it all set up and all of that

and then,,, I find out that the arm is not working and so I try again to convince design to duct tape it but instead they spend at least another 30min trying to get it to work

at like 6pm they're supposedly almost done and so we put our team in for inspection and while we're getting inspected the inspector tries to trick us w/ a typo and we don't call him out because we're all too polite to flat out tell him he's wrong

after that we get part of the arm working but then find a new problem that they keep trying to fix until about 7pm when they FINALLY give up on the arm and agree to duct tap it so that we can go to a practice match

the practice match goes horribly wrong, everyone has a new role (except one guy) and so I don't realize that I know more about what needs to happen than other people (because I barely know what I should be doing) and so we forget how to set up our robot before the match and also don't plug in our controls right, but we do make it to a match and back to the pit just barely before 8 so that's something

unfortunately the day doesn't end there,,, I end up speing from like 8-10 coordinating getting 3 people to give a presentation the next day because the seniors who were supposed to give it were sick/not going in the first place so that was a mess

at like 11pm i finally go to bed (after literally doing stuff nonstop all day)

and then the next morning i'm back at comp at 7:15!

our programmers end up showing up just barely before our first match queuing time, along w/ the guy that might be able to get the arm to work, and so the arm stays duct taped

our first match i let the other guy human player (a drive team role) but I end up having to go up and make sure they do the pre-match stuff right and don't make the same mistakes as friday, oh and after the match they forget to turn the robot off

then for the 2nd match since stuff didn't go so great in the first one i human player and everything goes smoothly

as soon as that is over i have to go give that presentation on outreach which went pretty good

the rest of the morning is spent playing matches w/ a duct taped arm but in between matches people keep trying (and then giving up) on fixing the arm, then finally give up for good at lunch

then that afternoon M ends up coming and they watch a match w/ me explaining what is going on and then I show them around the pit and also the follow me to a strategy talk and then we play one more match (which I human player) and then M has to go, but it was really fun to hang out w/ them and things finally feel really good between us

the rest of the afternoon is pretty chill (which is good because the day wore me out) and we play one more match and then i go home at 5 and crash

and then the next morning i'm back at 7:15!

the morning starts of chill, lots of down time not that we'd given up on the arm, and we play a match that goes about as well as it can while still losing

then we have a match that doesn't go as well,,, we get hit hard and pull out some wires which cut power to half of our motors and then we have a very fast turn around time before our next match but we make it work, by the end of that we're ranked 37/42 which isn't as bad as we did during regular season but it's also not great

after that we have a bit of downtime before alliance selection, during alliance selection we're doubting we'll be picked but we don't rule it out entirely, AND THEN WE GET PICKED AS THE 3rd TEAM FOR ALLIANCE 2 (meaning we're with 2 of the best teams but also we were the 23 team picked out of the 24 teams picked, but then again this is better than the team has done since 2018!!!!!!)

as soon as that is done the tech leads go back to pit and i reinforce duct tape in a few spots and then I come back to talk to the drive team to hear the plan, then I rush to eat lunch well spam texting people and being very :DDDDDDDD

then the afternoon is hella hectic, we play 4 more matches, in the first one we lose because the alliance captain has their battery on the floor the whole match and we also have some wiring issues but at least our battery stays in the bot, after that they want to trade us off the team but we convince them to let us stay and we win the next 2 matches

and then for the last match (quarterfinals i think?) they tell us not to do much during the game because they think we'll get in the way, and guess what, we end up losing that match, so then we go pack up the pit so loading the van at the end of the day will be faster

so then we chill a bit and watch awards and once everything wraps at 4 we load the van and I finally get home at like 5 and can crash

i'm so glad that i had monday tuesday off because i could sleep in and like recover (oh and also do hw :/)

anyway i had a college board test today and then got to hang out w/ my friends for a bit and grab lunch before I came home to finish my hw, but really i'm chilling, my friends are doing ok, me and M are doing good, and i'm def still riding that robotics high

the lesson we really really really need to learn is that when we used the complicated arm that broke a ton we didn't do great but when we duct taped the arm and focused on one thing and made it simpler WE GOT PICKED FOR PLAYOFFS

[archandshri]

19th April ‘24 - [arch] Community and Rest :D

Hey Shri! Short one today. It’s been a nice week, I’ve spent several days resting this week and making up for all the energy spent last week. 

I went to Something’s Fishy Art Market on Saturday - it was lovely!! Got to catch up with a few Plymouth friends and chat to people about Shipworms. I think events like that are really important in our industry. Sure, we make money at those things, but they’re so important for community. As illustrators, unless we work in a shared studio or other social environment, we spend so much time on our own. Sometimes our only contact with others in an arty setting is getting feedback on your work. When I was selling lots through Etsy, I’d get super burnt out with all the labour of posting, never seeing the people’s reactions - it was all just numbers. 

Fairs are magical, through. You get to see people engage with your work, be moved by it, and see them fall in love with the other creator’s work around you. You get to be inspired and by all the incredible artists selling their wares, have discussions about technique, compare experiences, or just chat. During uni, we had a module where we had to come up with 5 rules for self-promotion for ourselves. I still think about it sometimes. It was after I’d began to struggle with my upload schedule on Twitter, and the idea of ‘self-promotion’ made me feel sick. Once I spoke to my tutor, we concluded I should focus on how to do self-promotion healthily. I don’t remember the other 4 rules I came up with - but one was try to attend fairs. I knew that seeing real people and the tangible impact of my work made me burn out less. I’m really grateful for that lesson!!

This week I’ve been resting. I did a day of work hanging around the studio (had some meetings about a cool thing that’s happening soon 👀) 

It’s the Printhaus Open Day tomorrow and I will be hanging around! - feel free to pop by if you’re in Cardiff :D

Things I’ve learnt this week:

Make sure I have downtime days (for me this means a four day work week (max!) - then one or two days for managing my space, disability, and a day or two for fun)

Your job means there’s lots to do on weekends, so make sure you do an artificial weekend during the week if needed.

Make art fun - if it’s boring maybe you need to change it and/or your perspective

Or maybe you need to sleep for a hot min.

Nice to catch up with you!! Catch you next week :D

Archie ���🕺🕺

[queerlyhalloween]

Omg I've also had to explain the whole "you know the smiler is probably the safest rollercoaster in the world right now??" thing and people just do not get it.

Like "ya but they lost a leg so the ride isn't safe" ok but the ride literally did what it was supposed to do and stopped safely. It was overridden because of human error and that could happen anywhere, and is actually more likely at other parks right now because alton towers are gonna make damn sure it doesn't happen there again while some operators at other parks will go "couldn't happen to us bc we're smarter than that" and get complacent.

"ya but no leg??? So smiler is bad"

But then those same people didn't think twice about fairground rides? And like I love fairgrounds rides but uh I have had to stop the ops from starting the ride because they forgot to put my restraint down before so 😶

(also shout out to Adam from college that approved of going 140mph on the motorway without a seatbelt but said that anyone who went on the smiler obviously didn't care for their own safety)

(hope ur ok w this message i just get very autistic about theme parks and I wanted to let u know I've been there too. Also I agree oblivion is 100% in a different category and I'd never consider someone less of a fan of amusement rides for not liking blivvy bc fuck oblivion is something else)

Yooooooooo! Yah I am also super autistic about theme parks DW you're always welcome to talk to me about rides, sorry for late reply been working a lot (bleh)

Mmm, much like with Chernobyl "human error" is used as a milquetoast way to say "overtired workers", and should be considered as case studies in why workers rights are important for EVERYONE.

I remember at the time the hospital had said to the news they might have to amputate both legs and the lass played hell because she'd just spent like £600 on a tattoo sleeve for her other leg and she was like "I s2g, you DO NOT amputate THIS leg, I JUST had it done!" More annoyed about the prospect of losing those tattoos than the other leg, understandable lol, so the doctors were like "fair enough" and only had to amputate the one

Yeah, I've been to Alton Towers maybe 4 or 5 times as a teen, when my parents moved to England we were only like an hour's drive from Alton so it used to be the "if you fukcing behave we will take you to go on rollercoasters at the end of the year" school trip. I had just about left secondary school by the time they built the smiler though so missed out on that one :( Haven't had the chance to go back yet! (Nemesis holds a special place in my heart, love the coaster, love the blood waterfall) I went to go on Oblivion once to tackle my fear... and then after 20 mins in the queue the ride broke down and I took that as a sign from a higher power lmao

ALSO I was so sad when they got rid of the log flume! It had such good theming! ...Although I understand why. I've probably been to Drayton Manor more than any other theme park and I always hated that bloody boat ride. DEFINITELY needed bars rather than just relying on G-force...

Ohhhh fairground rides really are a different beast! I have gotten actual whiplash on the waltzers before because I'm tall enough now that i can't rest my head against the back unless I slump down in my seat

Had a similar experience with a restraint except I was on some graviton style thingy with carts that spin around a wheel sideways (upright into the air), and while the bar WAS lowered, they seated me (kid, maybe 11 or 12, malnourished as shit so my body-type's probably closer to that of an 8 or 9 yr old) next to a pretty giant dude. So the bar got lowered and its a full foot away from my chest and I just sort of have to lock my limbs against all the surfaces and wrap my legs around the bar like a fucking spider. LEGIT thought i was gonna die on that one.

But you want the epitome of fairground unsafe thrills meets actual rollercoaster speed? Go Blackpool Pleasure Beach! I fucking LOOOOVE Pleasure Beach, there are rides there that were built in the Victorian era, it's got my favourite rollercoaster -a wooden rollercoaster called The Grand National- and it's also got some beastly things

There's this... carousel? It's not exactly a carousel because it's in it's own dedicated room and goes REALLY FUCKING FAST, on the outer lane (there's like 6 lanes of horses!) it's legitimately terrifying, whole things built around an old organ that plays as the ride turns and it lasts AGES, you just have to cling to your horse and hope you dont eat shit on account of the speed

There's also the Steeplechase (idk why they're all horse themed...) this one is more carousel horses except THESE run on tracks, you've got a belt around your waste and their are motorbike style handles sticking out of the horse's head so it's a BIT more secure but if you let go and fell to the side (as is your want i suppose...) you would just be being dragged around by your waist. Now... The "charm" with this one is that as a small child it was quite thrilling, then I took my little brother when I was, oh i dunno 20 maybe?, and WHEN you're an adult, cresting those little jumps (again, horse themed) at maybe 40MPH means you get airtime. Which means you're flung a good foot off the horse for a few seconds and when you reach the BOTTOM of the hill you're gonna come crashing cunt first onto the PORCALINE horse. Which is considerably harder and sharper than an actual horse.

And you stumble off the ride like a cowboy and the attendant laughs at you with a knowingness that tells you he likes this part of his job. A lot.

140MPH?! Do you mean Kilometers?! Otherwise I think Adam's trying to meet the devil lmao

[tessiete]

First matinee. Just had the 15 min call. Feeling achy and voice quite weak. Frightened about how I'll get through 2 shows in one day. Been dreading this for ages. Now its time, I feel like I've been hit by a car after one show so no idea how I'll feel after 2, or during the second. My voice was really ragged last night as well. I'm going (?) home to try and take it easy this afternoon, but I find that almost impossible once we get started. I have a massage booked between the shows.

That was the 5 min call! Using Ibuprofen gel on my knee and shoulders. Sarah physio watched the show last night, and said I spent the whole performance with my weight on my right leg. So I'll try and be aware of that, as my right side is the one that's most messed up. My intercostal muscles are a mess from pumping out the (voice?). Lower back very sore, not sure why. Need to focus on letting the language do the work and the rhythm carry me along without pushing and forcing too much. Aim for light, deft, driven speaking cementing with needs + objectives. (???)

Tried to transcribe this as much as possible because I am in *love* with what this shows about Michael's process.

TLDR: VERY classically trained

What I mean by that is what's largely indicated in the bottom third of this page.

BUT ALLOW ME TO DO A LITTLE THEATRE NERD ANALYSIS.

Fifteen minute call - This is the last fifteen minutes before the curtain goes up at a performance. This does not include the five minute hold that is also often customary. But with or without that extra five minutes, I find it fascinating that he's writing this close to the start of a performance at all. I imagine it's calming and focusing. It allows him to reiterate and articulate his intentions (which we do see towards the end). Perhaps we could extrapolate that by addressing his worries, his pain, and his fears beforehand, he is able to excise them from interfering with his focus during the show.

Regardless, I'm impressed he's writing this close to the start anyway. Usually, I save my fifteen minute call for panicking about my hair, or doing silly rituals with my castmates, or rereading my lines like this last minute recap will do *anything* to help.

AND THEN we see he's still writing at the FIVE MINUTE CALL!

Five minute call - Usually, this is places for actors, but as this is Hamlet, he has a whole scene before he enters. You know...now that I think of it, this explains the writing as well. It's not actually that close for him. Probably a good 5-10 minutes.

He seems to dwell on his physical pain - this is interesting not because I don't think it's incredible he's pushing through it, but because, well, he is an actor and one thing actors do is "Use it". I know so many people who have gone through ridiculous things and their first thought is "This is going to be so good for my acting." Heck, I got hit by a car and I'm not gonna lie -- the thought passed through my mind almost at the same speed as the car!

That said, it could also be soothing and meditative. A sort of "better out than in" sort of thing. Either way, I find it fascinating that it's such a physical and most especially an external thing.

He's not using substitution (thank you, Uta!) despite lower-down referencing other acting techniques. And he's not writing from a more internal perspective in a way that would make me think he's trying to get himself into Hamlet's mindset. This reads as being very much detached from performance. This reads very much as Michael exorcising his own fear.

I think the externality of it in context with the proximity to performance is what strikes me most.

Need to focus on letting the language do the work - This, more than anything, tells me he's classically trained. This is, verbatim, the mantra of every conservatory programme, every professor or practitioner of Shakespeare, every student of the art. Let the text do the work. And while it may not be a groundbreaking approach, even to a layman, the way it's worded, the prominence it takes in his closing thoughts really reiterate his education and technique. Really cool.

Aim for light, deft, driven - Some Laban here, perhaps? An acting technique meant to ascribe movement, weight, and speed to the performance of text. There are eight basic efforts, and I don't know anyone who uses them in their pure forms. I think "light" could be akin to "float," "deft" to "dab," and "driven" to "punch".

Do I think this is as specific a use of technique as his idiomatic "let the text do the work?" No. But I think this is the professional and practical implementation of a technique into a larger scope of practice.

Needs + objectives - The actor's bread and butter. The actor's biggest (probably most widely used) and most fundamental technique is the application of objectives (as well as needs, obstacles, stakes, and tactics) to a text. This is most effective in pursuit of psychological realism (debatable application to a text like Shakespeare BUT the main pursuit of modern acting).

Clear objectives is almost always the cornerstone to trained actors, and definitely the cornerstone to modern performance education. If you have nothing else, you have your objectives. You come into first rehearsal with your objectives. It's about understanding the text, understanding the character, and having a perspective on your approach that allows for clarity of intent. This makes you more believable because, in real life, we are almost always clear on our intent (even if you can't articulate it). On stage, you need to articulate it. You need to understand why the character is doing what they're doing in order for you to pursue it with the earnestness of intention required.

If you have actionable objectives (ie. a goal that cues your scene partner to reply) then you become easy for the audience to understand and easy for your castmates to respond back to with their own clear objectives. If you are clear then spontaneity can live in listening to your partner, and security can lie in your technique.

The Illustration - not reeeally gonna try to psychoanalyse that illustration. It's pretty frightening. I know his Hamlet took place in an asylum, so it could be inspired by that.

Hamlet, as a play, is very much preoccupied with intense observation. Often by hidden figures. This could play into that.

Or, you know, when you're in the stage lights looking out at the audience, you can't really see faces. It's dark, but you know there are eyes there, watching you. This could be what Michael sees. Whatever it may say about that.

ANYWAY, sorry to hijack this post but I've never seen this diary before and I am so thirsty to get my greedy little hands on documents just like this. I'm obsessed with finding the paperwork of actors, obsessed with looking at their technique, obsessed with wringing any little instruction I can from those so far above me!

help!

https://mobile.twitter.com/AmaiaMontero322/status/1044351072461094912/photo/4

is that his journal?!

————————————————-

I would assume so but I’m sure someone will correct me if I’m wrong. idk if you can make out the passage at all (I flipped the image so it’s readable) but it’s talking about a theatre performance he did where I guess he’s sore and his knee and back are hurting and someone pointed out he kept his weight shifted the entire performance. 

[alectology-archive]

ohh im sure youve maybe already discussed this but if you're up for it id LOVE to hear your full take on Min. personally i like her okay, but I've never understood the massive favouritism of her on reddit, and it really annoyed me that so much time is spent on her and rand, and so little on elayne/avi/rand, tho obviously elayne and aviendha.. have their own storylines which min. doesnt really

There’s definitely a Type of crowd on reddit which makes her a very popular character there - characters like Egwene and Elayne who’re complex, willing to set themselves against their respective partners, realistically flawed & ambitious aren’t quite as popular for the same reasons.

As for Min herself... well. In general, my feelings about her have progressively gone from 'deeply disinterested in her’ to ‘deep dislike’ over time and it’s such a shame because I’m very fascinated by whatever is up with her ability. It lowkey reads like a very, very minor way of manipulating the Pattern and I've previously kind of compared it to whatever the Finn do & the Seanchan's own omen-reading practices (although I do need to admit that RJ has stated that what the Finn do is very different from Min's powers). If I weren't so irritated by how she ends up getting credit for a fashion trend in Cairhien when 1. She didn't actually start the trend 2. She didn’t like dressing the way she did and only did it because she thought Rand liked it 3. And If Dobraine had actually been praising her for talents other than dolling herself up for Rand, I would actually obsess over the fact that she got called Lady ta'veren because the text lowkey allows for that interpretation in a way. But I digress.

To get back on topic, the main issues I take with her characterisation are:

1. Her contributions to Rand's trauma, even if they're unintentional are massive - these include dumai's wells, Semirhage & Cadusane (I include her since she spends a lot of time bullying Rand or just being a Problem in general. She's not a good mentor figure.)

2. She receives undeserved praise all the time for supporting Rand during his downspiral when she does nothing but exist in the background. She’s acknowledged as Rand's emotional support gf in the fandom pretty widely but this is pretty much nonsense because she doesn't do anything to actually help him with his mental health. 

3. She encourages Rand to resort to unhealthy coping mechanisms (resorting to sex during moments of emotional distress) while discouraging him from nurturing healthy coping mechanisms (she also gets really bothered when she isn’t the centre of attention in private)

4. It also definitely gets on my nerves how Min is constantly complaining about having to share Rand with two other women & always reminds the readers that Rand is involved in a polygamous relationship - Avi, Elayne and Rand easily read like they’re involved in a polyamorous relationship without her tbh. 

5. Her arc of embracing femininity & constructing her personality around an idea she has of the kind of women Rand prefers (even if Rand liked her perfectly well before she started changing herself for him and never asked her to change herself for him) is one of the worst things to come out of the books. Sometimes her pants are so tight and her heels are so high that she can't walk properly. It’s kind of funny how she’s constantly complaining and blaming him for problems he isn't to blame for because she hates that she's supposed to love him according to prophecy.

6. Min is used to replace more healthy relationships like the ones Rand has with the Maidens & his friends from home which also really grates on my nerves since the books where they take centre stage are my favourite ones

7. She encourages and excuses Rand's bad behaviour a bunch (which Avi and Elayne would never have done). I got this vibe especially during TGS.

8. She blabs about Rand's trauma to practically everybody - including people who're looking to take advantage of him/manipulate him.

9. Min also threatens Rand with physical abuse when he's going through rough patches (this includes using her knives on him? The narrative plays this off as a fun, kinky thing when it really isn't)

10. Also because I’m petty I specifically hate her for that scene from TGH where she gets mad at Egwene for ‘tossing Rand aside’ when she wasn’t romantically interested in him anymore (like ???) She seems to feel that platonic relationships don’t matter as much as romantic ones do & pretty much behaves like it during the rest of the series lol.

RJ is to blame for a bunch of this, obviously, but Min doesn't have enough of a personality outside of Rand for me to really find it in myself to redeem her in my head, tbh.

I will admit that the entire point of providing Rand with an emotional support gf when he's supposed to be in a mental health downspiral was a pretty ridiculous choice on RJ’s part. I suppose Min as a character was set up to fail all along - she can't provide Rand any actual help because that would mean helping Rand out of his downspiral, you know? It gives the same vibes as the pointless plotpoint where Cadsuane is assigned as Rand's therapist when her method of accomplishing tasks involves bullying, abusing and harassing people until they’re sufficiently cowed.

[gooobert]

A Slight Detour

Alright SO I'm coming at you all with a Harringsmith fic. It was inspired by a conversation I had with @trevsawriter, and I know I'm a total novice when it comes to fics but I thought I'd at least share it :) gimme some consctructive feedback!

Word Count: 1.5k Reading Time: ~5 Min

If there was anything Quentin hated more than hot, muggy weather, it was running. But when they're all put together? It made him agitated and on the verge of hyperbolic violence.

Sure, he's good at swimming, but on land? No better than a fish out of water.

Their graduating class is back from summer vacation; it's around the second or third week. Quentin couldn't remember, every day was a blur - same shit, different curriculum. He'd have to admit, he isn't used to this heat. Especially when he had been in his air-conditioned room, spending his free time trying to catch every Pokémon on his Switch.

Or, as Steve liked to call them, "little Pokeymen."

No matter how many times Quentin corrected him, Steve wasn't changing. He could handle the retro classics like Metroid or Dr. Mario, which Quen loved - Steve knew a fair amount of cheats that aren't readily available on the web.

And so what if they spent the summer playing games all day? They didn't have to be harassed by their parents, and as long as Steve got to drag his boyfriend to the beach every couple weeks, he couldn't complain.

Speaking of which, it was Steve that threw his hand on Quentin's shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Didja hear me? We're starting soon."

Quentin couldn't help but expel a groan. Since they were starting a new school year, the gym teachers were performing routine fitness assessments. He couldn't care any less, but he knew his dad would chew him out for not at least getting a baseline grade.

That, and Steve had been talking about a detour they could take to avoid both the coach and sweating. As much as Steve wouldn't turn down a time to show off his athletics, he was not going to let the muggy weather and his sweat ruin his absolutely perfect hair.

"I want you to just follow my lead, 'kay? Try to keep up."

"And what if I don't?"

Steve stopped stretching his shoulder to snap his head in Quentin's direction, eyebrows furrowed as he made an artificially-dramatic glare. "Hey. Do you want my help or-"

Their banter was cut off by the shouting of their teacher, who immediately blew the whistle; their run only beginning. The mass of students moved like a large blob, sneakers reverberating off each other's steps on the asphalt.

The high school didn't have the money for an actual track; all of the funding essentially went to their competitive swim team, leaving the cross country students to have to make their own warmup track with what they had. One part of Quen would normally felt pity, but he would have rather given them his middle finger.

Quentin liked to eat anywhere but the cafeteria, the dining hall was too loud, the food was some type of Lovecraftian horror, and it wasn't like he had a large group of friends to chat with. One time, he tried to eat his lunch in the backwoods of the school, preferring a quiet area to cram before his exam the next period. The track team boys, practicing for their upcoming meet, didn't seem to like a swim team member on their "turf" - kicking up some dust into Quentin's lunch. He honestly couldn't give less of a shit, but hey - that's karma.

And he couldn't complain, now both he and Steve have a ritual of eating together on the hood of Steve's car. Harrington was a sucker for older cars, caring for his BMW like it was his own damn baby. Quentin liked to tease him over who Steve was really in love with.

And God forbid Quen ever gets behind the wheel or else Steve acts like a helicopter parent; scolding him for driving too fast, or not easing into the breaks as gradually as Steve thinks he should, grabbing hold of the car frame as he braces for his boyfriend to crash. Quentin would be offended by it, but who else would be there to intentionally swerve the car and scare the shit out of Steve?

The sound of feet hitting asphalt - now turning into tightly packed soil - brought Quentin back to the present, where the group of students began to disperse, their varying speeds creating distance. He was more towards the back of the group, disinterested with the athletic kids in front - as if they had a point to prove. Like some Olympic recruiter had nothing better to do; deciding to go to bumfuck Ohio to scout for prospective talent.

Steve was the only one Quen could focus on - now near the front - the faster group beginning to rush into the woods.

He wasn't sure how, but it only took a few, mere seconds to lose track of Steve. There were too many paths to discern where he went, the only obvious one being the path the teachers chose, which had painted arrows on the cedar trees. Once out of the teacher's eyesight, Quentin went from his jog to a walk, running a hand through his curls as he caught a breath. The final stragglers went past him, leaving Smith all by himself.

Or rather, he thought he was by himself until a hand placed a firm grip on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks-

"Woah, easy, it's just me," Steve cooed, trading his firm grip on Quen's shoulder for a few reassuring pats.

His body relaxed at the sight of Harrington. You could still see his reddish-pink splotches of skin; sunburnt from when they went to the beach the other day. Most of it was encased around Steve's neck, which was covered by the lower tips of his mullet. He circled around to face his body towards Quentin's, leaning his back on the bark of a tree.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you," he fondly stated, looking up and down at his boyfriend.

"It's only third period."

"Only," he mimicked in a retort, Steve's back now leaving the tree to get closer to Quentin. Their faces were now less than a foot apart; the smell of Steve's cologne and musk overwhelming the former scent of the outdoors.

"Then let's make up for some lost time, mm?"

That's all Steve needed to hear, the only thing holding him back from throwing himself at Quen. Steve wrapped one arm around Smith's back, nestled under the shoulderblades. The other hand was busy leaning on another tree, coincidentally behind Quentin's back.

It's not insurmountable that the former king of Hawkins High is a great kisser. Steve's cheek grazed Quentin's nose as the former tilted his head.

It tasted sweet, and was faintly reminiscent of their breakfast from that morning; something of a routine between the two. Steve would pick Quentin up before school, and Quen would buy them both a pair of coffees or even a muffin or two depending on how hungry they felt. It made Quentin want more, leaning into Steve and allowing his eyes to remain firmly shut.

Once they broke apart for some air, he opened his eyes to see how burnt his boyfriend really looked in the sun. The skin on the bridge of Steve's nose was slightly peeling, despite how much his mom nagged him to apply sunscreen from their beach day, and even lotion, now.

They went back in for kissing - to the point where Quentin was too busy picking at Steve's sunburns to the jock's dismay - for a little while. It was only a matter of time before the echoes of a whistle were heard, signifying their time was being cut short. Steve made some whines of annoyance before turning Quen to face alongside him.

"I'm going to run through those two trees there and take a right, then a left at the large rock, y'can't miss it. Just go, like, 20 seconds after me, 'kay?"

"What, don't want the kid who doesn't try at gym to finish with the all-star athlete?"

That made Steve click his tongue, his eye roll not matching the growing smirk on his face. He began to turn away before his head snapped around to face Quentin for a final time. "Oh, and one more thing - what're we doing after school today?"

Quentin crossed his arms and gave Steve a puzzled look. "I thought we'd go to practice, unless you have a better-"

"Nonononono, I was just curious…" he paused, pursing his lips. "I'll see you after last period."

And off he went, running a hand through his hair and returning to a jog.

"I'll see you!" Quentin shouted, waving Harrington goodbye. Man, he could kill to have practice begin early. This weather will be the death of him someday, he's sure, but then how else could Steve heroically save him from heatstroke? He thought about that scenario as he began to resume his run, their gym teacher being none the wiser as the two boys joined the rest of the class.

[yoondles]

Grow As We Go - M.YG

CEO! Min Yoongi x CEO! Reader, Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: Marrying your ex isn’t really something you want to do.

Themes: Heavy angst, fluff if you squint for 2 seconds, smut, it ends happily.

Word count: 10k, Unedited

Inspo: Trivia: Seesaw by MYG & Grow As We Go by Ben Platt

Warnings: Yoongi calls you a whore, Yoongi’s pp is huge, reader is a virgin, talks about their toxic relationship, biting/nipping, breast play, light humiliation, fingering, oral (f receiving), squirting, creampie, unprotected seggs, mature language and that’s about it 😐.

A/N: lastly, I haven’t gotten the chance to proofread this and I’m sorry for any mistakes. This is my first fic so feel free to share your thoughts, thank youuu! 😭

You knew you were screwed. The way he held placed his hands inside his pocket, the heavy footsteps that would leave an impression to the carpeted floor of the airport, and the way his eyebrows arched. You were really fucking screwed.

It was the same posture he held one year ago, a few months prior to the separation that lead to the awkwardness that blossomed amidst your honeymoon days. It was eerie silence. You saw the way his veins would pop the moment he saw you as if he was clenching his jaw hard, trying to prevent himself from doing anything he regretted. You refused to make an eye contact with him.

The crowd was going wild, five months after your announced marriage, this was your first public appearance together, as a couple known by the entire nation. The fact that he was Min Yoongi didn’t help either, in fact, more people got interested in your relationship because it was about Min Yoongi.

He was one of the seven bachelors, the current head of BigHit Inc., a large conglomerate. He’s an adopted son of the late Mr. Bang, all of which grew to become individual talents, either blessed in terms of dancing, singing, poetry, even rapping. “Where the fuck have you been?” Cocking one of his brows up as he scrutinised you, looking at your small figure with an imposing look, something that would’ve threatened any normal citizen.

But not you. You knew Yoongi like the back of your hand. Having spent about 5 years of your life in an attempt to make the best out of your arranged marriage with him really helped out. Except for the fact that the two of you haven’t spoken for about one year prior to the wedding itself, and the fact that you were former lovers who decided it wouldn’t work out.

“Japan,” you shrugged him off, dismissing your assistant by giving him your luggage as you tried your best to hide your face from the agonising cameras that the paparazzi held against your face. Thankfully, they were kind enough to make way for the two of you, parting as the newly wedded pair made their way towards the vehicle.

He scoffed at your answer, baffled. He pushed his hair back in annoyance, “why didn’t you tell me anything about this?” You ignored him. Noticing the whispers and glances the people exchanged with one another. You were drifting away, pulled back to reality with the harsh grab you felt in your shoulder, stopping you from moving further. “About what?” You shook his hand off as you attempted to push through. The vehicle seemed to be moving further away from the two of you as tension was quick to rise.

“You, Japan?” You shook your head, walking a tad bit faster this time around. “Hello?” He spoke a bit louder this time, the large empty area made sure that everyone heard him. It was the echoes that reached you. “Just, let me get inside the car,” your voice was getting louder by the second, as the media started cluttering around the two of you, trying to get into the details of what seemed to be an argument between two of the richest heirs in South Korea.

“Can you let me talk to my fucking wife?” His voice was a tad bit louder than earlier, it was nothing that surprised you. He seemed to be fond with wanting himself heard, what shocked you though was the harsh grip that left you wincing as he pulled you inside the car. It was only when you were in front of the door that you managed to shake him off, opening the door yourself as you slumped against the leather seat.

Quickly, you turned away from him, closing your eyes as you forced yourself to shut him out. Pretending that Min Yoongi was a fragment of your imagination and he was no way real, that this was some made up bullshit you fantasised about at 3 AM. “Y/N!” He yelled out your name, anger evident in his voice, as the metal on his seatbelt crashed repeatedly against the plastic, cursing loudly as the driver began to move.

“You couldn’t have fucking waited, could you?!” The loud empty halls in your makeshift home was amplifying your voice. The loud banging of the door was your signal to continue your short rant regarding his unprofessional work, in front of the news outlets that would milk every second that passed in front of them.

“To hell with that, why didn’t you fucking tell me you were going to Japan?” You mocked his tone with a very small voice, removing your heels as you paraded the long hallway, rolling your eyes in the process. Coming to a halt the moment he pulled you back to him with a harsh tug on your wrist. You were quick to react, his face contorting as if confused as to whether he should apologise or continue his facade. “Why should I?” It was a push and pull type of relationship, undoing your dress in front of him was a huge part of the show.

The garment was quick to pool around your feet, swaying your hips gently as you flaunted your white pair of underwear. Moving towards the closet, eyes meeting his through the large mirror. For a moment he paused, taking a few seconds to glance at your body. Taking every curve, every mole, everything he could with such a short amount of time.

“Well, let me see. I’m your husband!”

“Legally, wouldn’t say I voluntarily married you.” You shrugged, grabbing the closest pair of pyjama you found. “Real mature, y/n. It would’ve been nice if I’d gotten a memo, you know?”

“It’s not like you would’ve cared.” You did your best in everything, and right now, pissing him off was on the top of your priorities. Casually grabbing the discarded garment as you walked outside your bedroom, dumping everything in the nearby laundry room, he continued to follow you around like a shadow.

You knew he was pissed. His breathing was a lot harsher, unlike earlier when he was wearing a mask, right now you could see he entirety of his face as he bit his lip in annoyance. “We’re going there, aren’t we?” You nodded, feeling a lot more giddy knowing you did your best to rile him up. Jumping your way towards the kitchen, greeting the maids as you walked over the counter, grabbing a yellow banana.

“Do you seriously think I have no right to know where you are? Is that another privilege I’m not entitled too, hm?”

“Yes, actually. I don’t want you meddling with my business, I want you as far away as possible.” He pursed his lips, placing his hands against his hips as he looked at you dumbfounded. “Contrary to your beliefs, I don’t care about your stupid company. I just want to know if my wife’s safe or if she’s dead.”

“Don’t use the wife card on me, Min Yoongi. Stop acting like you gave a damn about my well-being two weeks ago.” The air conditioning seemed to be working extra harder as the air surrounding the two of you seemed to be a lot more thicker and colder now. His eyebrow slowly arched upwards as he gazed at you, carefully shooting the banana peel inside the automated trash can.

Walking your way towards the fridge to grab a cold glass of water, as he intently gazed at you. “What are you talking about?” You couldn’t help but chuckle at his response, offering him a glass of water before placing it back inside the fridge as you washed it yourself. “I’m just returning the favour, it’s not like I knew where you’ve been the past two months.”

Yoongi was confused, it was amusing to look at him, acting innocently after the crimes he’s committed just three months into the relationship that sealed the two of you towards a muddy path to eternity. “Two months? What?”

“Yes, I don’t fucking know where you’ve been, how you’ve managed to slither past my hands, and how you fucking act like you don’t have a wife at home.” That shut him up. It was silence that followed the short confession you managed to squeeze out after days if trying to keep everything together.

“So to hell with Japan, to hell with you trying to know where I’ve been. Because I’ve been clueless for the past two months, not once did you tell me you were off somewhere.”

It was oddly, fulfilling. To be able to give your pent up emotions some freedom after a few days of relaxation. It was a different kind of satisfaction when you saw the way his face moved, the way his facial features would move with every word that left your mouth. You saw the way his Adam’s apple bobbed, as if figuring out why everything had to happen.

It was at this moment you declared your first victory, moving past him, making sure to touch his shoulder with yours on the way out of the kitchen, locking yourself in your bedroom. Your own personal space, far away from what was intended to be your shared space. Because you and Min Yoongi both appreciated privacy far too much.

It was an immature fight, sure. But that was everything that you and Yoongi had been. Immature lovers who wanted each others’ time for each other, the only thing that you managed to do well was break up publicly and settling everything in private. That was a big enough red flag, however, there was an agreement older than the two of you. Somehow, it managed to slap you both in the back of your heads.

Your relationship with him remained platonic. As if nothing had changed between the two of you, like you were the same pair of lovers who broke up with one another one year ago. Living with him had been many things, it was very exhausting having to keep up with his lifestyle.

It was draining to the point of no return, where you’ve been pushed past all your limits and somehow he chooses to ignore everything instead of addressing it. And it had always been like that, was there not any growth? You assumed there would be some, at least a few, but you thought wrong.

You wanted everything to die out, before proceeding with your plans. The two of you had made an agreement that within the span of two years, you’d be out of the marriage. However, with his brothers growing massively successful, the press made sure to watch almost every movement Min Yoongi made. It doesn’t help that he was private, now that he had to be exposed the media tried its’ best to pry him open. So yes, it had been very exhausting. You only needed two years, and you’d be back to the same situation you had been before.

Eating dinner had been uneventful. It consisted of you looking for the perfect video to watch while sitting in the dining table, your food getting colder every minute that passed. As if you hadn’t had an argument earlier, you had no idea where Yoongi was, whether he was safe or if he was fucking another bitch in the club, hell, maybe he was with someone who could satiate his needs, be there for him, fill up whatever you space you failed to replenish.

Was it painful knowing that? Yes. You could be there for him, you wanted him to at least try and approach you as much as you tried to form a coherent bond with him. It won’t be the same as it was two years ago, but you at least wanted to have a friendship with him. You want the two of you to be able to talk to one another without yelling, cursing. You wanted something to happen, something that was better than your current situation.

Your two weeks in Japan had been the greatest time of your life since your marriage. You’d assume that working there would be no different than if you worked from home, however, there was no empty space in Japan. There was no Min Yoongi reminding you that you were married, yelling that you hated your current life situation and that you wanted to escape. It was a breath of fresh air, but it only lasted for a while, not after his secretary bombarded your secretary.

The door closed with a loud “bang!”. It was something you’ve gotten used to over the course of five months, because you know well enough that Yoongi could never close the door without trying to release his pent up anger. He looked sleek, admittedly, he looked very charming wearing his black turtleneck, and his black coat. But you knew that you needed to stay away, as he removed his shoes, you shut down the television, walking fast while chewing on a piece of kimchi. There was a pause, it was the moment you made eye contact with him.

But you ignored it, walking away with your bowl towards your room. Normally, he’d find you in your room, however, he arrived earlier than usual. Fridays would usually mean that he’d be coming home late, trying to clear up his schedule for the weekends, but he was here in all his glory. “Have you been keeping up with the news?” You were holding a chicken bone, gnawing on it as you were about to pull the door, entering your room, but you were a few seconds late. You shook your head slowly.

He took a few steps closer as he began to open his phone.

“Min Yoongi caught desperately trying to save marriage!”

That was one of the very few articles that had appeared in his phone. Alongside, “Divorce Makes Way For The Newly Wedded Min Couple!” You gave him a shrug, unsure as to what he was waiting for, what reaction he wanted upon showing you mediocre headlines. “Well, I’m glad they’ve reported reliable news.” You could practically see smoke fume out of his nostrils in annoyance. “The fuck do you want me to do? Make a call and tell them no, when we were clearly in the middle of an argument earlier?”

He gritted his teeth, his tongue poking out his cheek as he placed both one of his hands in his hips, the other reaching his forehead as if he was trying to ease a random headache he managed to acquire within the three minutes of talk time you allowed each other to have. “This is the first time they’re seeing us, I’m quite pleased with the reaction.” The sarcasm was dripping off of every word, again, you shrugged. Gently placing the bowl down as you stared at him trying to figure out what he wanted from you.

“You’re a CEO, Min Yoongi. You’re not a performer like your brothers are, this doesn’t mean shit to the millions you earn weekly. None of this matters.” You knew that the reason for this was his brothers’ fame, they were out in the spotlight while he was in the dark. This urged the media to move towards Yoongi’s direction more, as he seemed someone who was more intriguing. Someone who’s name stood out in the crowd, despite not being a public character.

“Do you not care about the reputation you have as an individual?”

“Well in the first place, none of this would have happened if you sat down in your goddamn office chair, like you’re supposed to be doing. Not waiting for me in the airport,”

“Glad you appreciate the effort though, was I supposed to not greet you? After disappearing for two fucking weeks?” He let out a laugh, huffing as he placed down his coat somewhere in the sofa. “You yelled in front of everyone, I asked you to wait, to at least let everything boil down to the moment we were inside the vehicle!” It was a matter of proving who’s fault it really was at this point, it was the same immature fight you’d always have but never seemed to resolve.

“Why do you care so much about everyone else? Why do you care about their opinion, when they barely know you.” That was your conclusion, you halted, and moved towards your room. The bowl was left halfway full in the counter, long forgotten as you’ve lost whatever was left of your will to eat the moment Yoongi presented the news articles he found to be fascinating.

In an attempt to move on from the situation, you distanced yourself from him. The already existing wall between the two of you had only grown taller. You did your best to avoid him, even going as far as checking the CCTVs from your office just to see if he was home, letting him do his nightly routine before proceeding to going home yourself. You wanted no physical interaction, in fact, even the invitation that had been sent for the two of you had been forwarded by him through email.

Even your cellphone numbers had been rendered useless, as you barely talked through messages, not once had he called.

You didn’t know how the night would pan out, you just had to get through this, wear a dress that fit the theme, and pretend that the two of you had been happily married for the past six months. Easy, you thought it’d be easy. However, the void that stood in between the two of you had been way too big to even mend. So, you sat there, tapping your fingers against the soft satin fabric of your dress. Awkwardly licking your lips as you failed to make an eye contact with the man beside you.

You clutched your tiny purse as you had been escorted out of the car by Min Yoongi himself, doing your best to try and act natural. Hooking your hand against his arm, as he cleared his throat in surprise, raising a brow towards your direction as you began to walk the red carpet. Similar to the airport scene, the media was everywhere. In addition to the crowd you’ve managed to form, a bunch of business elites were also waiting for the arrival of the lucky couple, having big names in the business field, wanting to please the two of you for possible collaborations and merges. The two of you were the star of the show.

You began critiquing the way the two of you walked, how his steps were far larger than yours and how you always fell behind. The way your arm awkwardly hung from his, how you attempted to push back stray pieces of hair with your other hand.

Parties had always been your cup of tea, you enjoyed them, you saw them as business opportunities. But for the first time in your life, you lacked the confidence to power through the event, your feet were already worn out from the heels you chose to wear, everything was not going as planned and you were terrified that it showed through. What a hypocrite you were, scolding Yoongi for caring too much despite being anxious yourself.

There was a buffet, wine, champagne, and all of Yoongi’s brothers had also been present. They greeted the two of you, which you happily returned, never missing the sly smirk they gave off especially the way Taehyung laughed at your awkward posture, pointing out that he read the previous articles that mentioned the two of you. The part you dreaded was yet to come, it was at that moment that the old Mr. and Mrs. Choi walked in front of your and began asking you questions.

“You look wonderful tonight!” Mrs. Choi gushed at the two of you, her hands clinging onto yours and Yoongi’s as she began to shake the two of them. You smiled politely, exchanging quiet glances with Yoongi, you were screwed. The old couple loved gossiping, they were familiar with all distributors and were often referred to as the “trusted affiliate” that could juice out everything out of a growing issue in South Korea.

“So do you, I really love your earrings!” You returned the excitement, pointing out wherever your eyes had landed first, so it happened to be her earrings. “Thank you! I got them from Chanel, a little outdated but they do the job.” A few awkward sentences later, they began to ask you about what they were really here for. “I’m so glad the two of you were able to attend, I’ve been anxious since the moment we read the issues, we thought you’d be separating, again.” It was the emphasis on the word again that had Yoongi clenching the glass a little harder, enough for the tips of his finger to turn white. However, his composure remained calm, you gently tapped your heel against his leather shoes.

“Arguments do happen, I’m sure you and mr. Choi have also been victims of small fights every now and then, in the end, don’t we all find ways to resolve these?” He ended by bringing the wine closer to his lips, the dark hue beginning to stain his pink plump lips. The couple laughed.

Navigating a conversation with the Choi’s had always been dangerous, at any moment either one of you could stumble upon a trip mine. On top of this, the lack of communication with Yoongi could lead to possible contradiction of your answers, you didn’t discuss anything nor did you prepare for any interviews.

Their many attempts to find new headlines had almost been unsuccessful, almost. “When are you planning to have kids?” Mr. Choi asked, drinking the sparkling drink in his hand as Mrs. Choi complimented him through her fond eyes.

“Right, it has been six months since the two of you had been married. When are we seeing little Yoongi’s, little y/n’s?” The four of us shared a hearty laugh, “well, my wife and I want more time for each other. Not to say we don’t have any plans in the future, but we don’t intend to have kids as of this moment.” It was a good enough answer, barely any information but it was enough to get a good click worthy title. “Oh, interesting. As much as we’d love to stay, we do have to meet a few more people.”

“We’d leave the two of you be, I’m certain you’d want to talk to hipper and younger guests.”

The two of you gave a polite smile, sighing loudly as they finally left your table. You downed the glass of wine faster than you had done before, the heat in your throat finally easing the tension you’d been feeling. You shared an awkward glance, lightly chuckling after deeming the interaction as somewhat successful.

“You did great,” you praised Yoongi, he started scratching the back of his head as his cheeks glowed in a pink hue, avoiding eye contact for a few seconds. “Who would’ve thought that that would work out?” Biting your lip as you shyly smile at him. It was you getting flustered all over again, similar to how your dimples would show, how you’d look at your feet in order to avoid his stares, those five beautiful years had always been dear to your heart. However, the breakup was almost inevitable.

The two of you were growing at your own pace, while you were busy preparing to be the next CEO, Yoongi had already been managing the company. Although you tried to make ends meet, it still happened. It started with small immature fights, soon it evolved to the days you would fail to meet, bigger arguments emerged, and although you tried your best to settle everything, you were not in the right state of mind. The never ending pressure that erupted from your family, the business meetings, the small problems you encountered in your day-to-day life. Everything collided.

You wanted to find comfort in Yoongi, you wanted him to be the safe space you needed whenever you wanted, but you became selfish. You would tell him everything, disregarding the fact that he too had problems, that he was also suffering considering that a job meant to be split into seven members, were all being handled by one. He tried his best, but on some days it got too much for him to handle, and one day, he finally exploded. He ended the relationship the two of you had, a five year relationship ended in the course of three months.

And now here you were, using your newfound attitude as a way to cope with the heartache that you still feel deep within your heart. Acting like a spoiled kid who was denied for the first time.

What you didn’t know was how much Yoongi had been suffering too. How much he wanted to come to you, and how much he needed to be with you. To him, the arrangement was a blessing in disguise. It felt like a huge blow in the gut when you had suggested a divorce after the noise you’ve made died down, from then he began to feel dejected. Slowly overworking himself, trying his best to distract himself from the fact that you would never be his. The distraction he made soon lead to distance, distance between the two of you.

He tried to act tough around you, spiteful even. But when he remembers how you implicitly rejected his proposal to a life with him, he’d attempt to push through. Putting on this mask as if he was tough, that he was different from the Yoongi you once knew, that he’d no longer be there for you. He halted all of his actions, actions he thought would bring the two of you together. Forming a stronger bond compared to the five years you’ve spent together.

With you acting poorly in front of him, using aggressive retaliation, and him being terrified of the rejection you unknowingly did, your relationship was in a standstill. You were two people who wanted each other, and sadly, there might be no way of knowing that you two did feel the same way.

Despite the flashing lights, the smiles you tried to offer other business associates, you still ended up back into your dark and gloomy house. It was large, had many empty walls and was barely decorated. There was no way of telling if the house was occupied or not, it was far too... professional? It had no character, no visible sign of change, it was bare.

The dark room you managed to inhabit for the past six months reminded you of how lonely you’ve been feeling, how different you were from the persona you tried to play outside of the walls. You’ve grown so accustomed to loneliness that it became such a huge part of your life, you could barely even remember how you acted before you were married to Yoongi, how carefree you were. It was pitiful how a rich, privileged woman like you was stuck inside a place you didn’t feel comfortable in.

It wasn’t the idea of being alone that made you feel lonely, it was living with someone with no physical reaction despite being entitled to at least a little bit of skin-on-skin contact, a hug would’ve been a big help. With these thoughts, you pulled your hand away from Min Yoongi’s as you began to wave the pathway towards the front door. Crossing your arms as you moved in, avoiding him as you made it as quickly as possible towards your bedroom.

Yoongi stood behind the door, for a night that had gone so well, your reaction had been far too harsh. Leaving him as soon as you had the opportunity, as if he were something so toxic to you that you couldn’t even stand being with him, alone, for at least a minute. He felt his chest swell, it wasn’t the good type of swell, it was fucking painful.

Removing his leather shoes, and walking towards the master bedroom, he asked himself what ifs, what if the two of you managed to handle everything more maturely, to the point of having a proper relationship up until now? What if the two of you had really wanted it? Would things be better?

Good grief, of course, things would have been so much better. He cursed himself silently, muttering under his breath as he took the moment to blame himself for just ending the relationship the moment he had the chance too. He didn’t even give himself enough time to process the decision he’d been making. On that same day, he was collected by Kim Namjoon, his brother, in a local bar. He was passed out, his Armani suit reeked of alcohol as he tried his best to push Namjoon away. Telling him desperately that he was fine and that he could drive himself home.

If only fate had been a little forgiving, if only. Coincidentally, on that same night, two establishments away, you’d been busy getting drunk. Two drunk adults had been found passed out, the two of them reeking of alcohol, upset about the same relationship that could’ve been something if it weren’t for their carelessness.

The bitterness of yesterday had easily died down the moment that your nostrils engaged with the familiar scent of coffee, it was an early Saturday morning. The curtains had been automatically opened using an A.I, giving you a marvellous view of the infinity pool outside your room. Stretching your limbs as you carefully stepped outside after putting on your Hello Kitty slippers, you were greeted by your husband doing what he was best at, making coffee.

The situation would’ve been more lax if the two of you were on speaking terms but, you weren’t. He offered you a fresh cup of coffee, something you were quick yo take, a soft “thank you,” escaped your lips before letting the warm liquid pass through. Whilst you stood there in your Sanrio pyjama, the other man stood fully clothed with his suit. He was all geared up for work, something you never quite understood. From what you know about him, he’d always been quite the workaholic, he didn’t have time to pause.

“I’ll be off,” he pursed his lips, forming a thin line of something that resembled a smile. You nodded as you took another sip of the warm coffee. Just like that, he left holding a tumbler with coffee, and his car keys. “Well, at least he bothered this time...” you murmured, walking towards the refrigerator to gather ingredients for your pancakes.

You were busy dancing as you flipped distorted, the television was playing, it served as your background music as you enjoyed the short freedom you had. You made another cup of coffee, bringing the mug and grabbing maple syrup from the cabinet, drizzling it on top of the semi-perfect pancakes. Comfy in your pyjamas, you sat down in the couch and began to dig into the pancakes. You were in the mood, for just basically anything. You were at peace, that was what you felt. Two seconds away from pressing the button to finally turn it off, a scene quickly caught your attention.

The man who made you coffee was the same guy in the TV, Min Yoongi was guesting with his little brother on a survival program, it was about a new girl group awaiting for their debut. Today was the day they get to decide which of the members would be debuting as an official member, as a collaboration between two of the largest entertainment companies Yoongi was called out in order to monitor the members. Hoseok had been a judge since the beginning, here he was sitting next to Yoongi as they made small talk. You paused, holding the empty plate as you grew more intrigued.

Everything was going well, up until they met face-to-face with the trainees. All of the judges reunited with one another, one particular judge, Suran had been quite affectionate with Yoongi. It started with a handshake, that was no big deal, it was a formal exchange between two important judges on the show. It was something normal, very normal.

The show escalated smoothly, rushing towards the kitchen counter as you quickly washed the plate despite the maids offering you their own hands. You jumped towards the couch, and sat down, your heart was racing from the adrenaline rush. But it was all worth it as the show continued. There was nothing that interested you, aside from Min Yoongi, so of course you paid attention to him the most. It caught you by surprise when the camera panned towards their direction, there was a soft voice as Suran held Yoongi’s hand, complimenting his bracelet, making small connections with his hands. “It’s really pretty,” Suran murmured, the host went silent upon noticing the interaction between the two of them.

Yoongi was quick to bow, thanking her as soon as possible. “Your cheeks have gotten really pink!” Hoseok exclaimed, his laughter echoing through the stage. Clapping his hands every once in a while as he continued to make fun of his older brother.

Normally, it wouldn’t be a big deal to you. You weren’t exactly the jealous type. However, with the way you and Yoongi were right now, and how quick he was to react to Suran’s simple compliment, the way they exchanged smiles, how they held eye contact for even a split second. Everything was making your blood boil.

You swallowed hard, it didn’t help that throughout the rest of the show the judges and the trainees kept teasing the two of them. How much did you have to pay for in order to get the same treatment as Suran did? Why did he act that way? Most importantly, how come Yoongi never lets you see this side of him, why does he always have to be mad or annoyed whenever he talked to you? How special was Suran to him that the moment the two of them stood close to one another, they had no trouble navigating through their conversation.

Oh you definitely weren’t jealous, yes you were simply making comparisons and that was natural, right? No, you hated yourself for feeling this way. How come he acted like that around her? Why can’t he act like that around you? You were annoyed at how he moved on, how happy he was. On the other hand, here you were, watching he two of them converse, still moving on from the breakup that had happened more than a year ago. You pitied yourself, you really did. “Fucking hell,” you muttered upon noticing the pooling tears from the corners of your eyes. It was at this exact moment that someone had kneeled before you.

When had he arrived? And why were you only finding out about this. Yoongi was looking at you with a worried look in his face as you desperately tried to hide your face from him, closing your eyes as soon as possible and grabbing the neck hole of your shirt as you lifted it up to cover your eyes. He grabbed the remote control and finally shut down the TV, “shh,” he quietly engulfed you with his body, the scent of his cologne slowly emanating from him. He guided you, lifting you up and walking towards your bedroom, covering your face from the rest of the maids that began to throw looks towards your direction.

It was the humiliation that struck you the most, the fact that he caught you watching his guesting on a show, and somehow found a reason to start getting jealous and ending up in such a pitiful condition which involved crying for affection was beyond you, you didn’t know what had happened. Why did you let yourself do this? You silently cursed yourself. “Baby, what happened?” He had a way with his words, somehow he managed to blend in a nickname, somehow that was enough to remind you what you had lost.

You shook your head repeatedly, trying your best to deny any feelings you showed. Pulling your shirt down, you were forced to meet his eyes, his thumbs found your tear stained cheeks, wiping them off gently as he locked eyes with you. “Why, what’s wrong?” He asked you again, you built up the courage, it was either now or never. “I don’t like seeing you with Suran, no, I don’t like seeing you acting like that around anyone else.” Your hiccups got in the way, but you managed to tell him exactly what you had wanted.

“Y/n...” he paused for a moment.

“How come you act like that around them, while you treat me like this? Why do they get better treatment? I’m your wife Yoongi, how come I get the leftovers while they get full course meals?” You heard how ridiculous you sounded, cringing at your choice of words and the way they flowed out of your lips. But you were humiliated enough, if it were a different situation then maybe you’d be laughing at yourself. “I want you all to me, Yoongi. And I know that it’s not possible, but I want us. I want what we both lost,” his fingers carded through your hair, the other massaged your back in a soothing manner, there was dead silence for a moment.

You knew you lost him.

His arms snaked around you, pulling you in closer to him as he gently placed a kiss on your forehead. He lifted your face up using his thumb, finally he kissed you on your lips. “But you already have me, y/n.” You knew it wasn’t real, there was no way this was happening right now. “You have me,” he muttered against your ear before gently sealing the space left in between your lips.

The tears you poured were all worth it, you knew from that point on that the relationship you once broke had been finally mended. You felt weight being lifted away from your chest.

You were sighing against his lips, fixing your posture as you slowly wrapped your arms around his neck, his hands slowly moving south. Grasping your arse as you shifted your position, sitting on top of his legs. You didn’t know what had taken over you at that point. You were desperate for more. The whine that left your lips wasn’t something you had voluntarily done, the moment he pulled away from you, his lips were a lot more plump. His chest was heaving, he threaded his palms in his hair as he eyed you. The two of you did your best to catch your breath.

It wasn’t the first time you stopped in the middle of doing something so sensual, you’ve always wanted your first with someone who you were willing to fully commit to.

Within the five years that you’ve spent together, Yoongi had always respected your boundaries. He stopped the moment you told him. He was a man of self control, but you knew that at some point he’d eventually reach his peak. Right now, there was nothing else you’d wish for aside from this finally happening. “Do I have you?” His forehead touched yours, his warm breath fanned over your saturated lips, closing your eyes you once again touched his lips.

He groaned against your lips.

Something unusual erupted from inside you, it was something you’ve felt before. Only now, you weren’t doing anything to stop it. Your lips parted, neck bending sideways as your breathing stuttered. His lips began working wonders, never leaving a spot on your neck untouched.

The flame that erupted from inside you began to engulf you, the moment you felt his lips against the side of your jaw, you knew you were done for. You began to slowly move your hips, moaning as you felt him nip slowly against your skin. His hands wandered through every crevice, eventually finding untouched area just below your cute little top.

You moved faster, trying to chase something you weren’t quite sure for, but for a moment you thanked the heavens above for Yoongi’s rough pants. You were a stuttering mess, grinding harder, pushing yourself even deeper against his thighs as you tried to reach something, just anything. You knew you were close, so close.

His hands worked wonders under your shirt, already unclasping your garment. Yoongi gave you all of his attention, which is why your heavy breathing didn’t go unnoticed. You were inches away from reaching that something, however, he pulled you away from your rhythm with one quick nip against your jaw, his hands clasping against the flesh of your arse, coming to a disagreement as he pulled onto them, giving you a quick slap.

“Yoongi,” you didn’t know if you were pleading him, maybe it came to you out of instinct, annoyance, you weren’t sure. But you were in too deep, you could honestly cry if he didn’t give you what you needed at that moment.

A low chuckle erupted from him, his chest moving against yours, reminding you of how close the two of you were. “Patience baby, this is your first time...” he gave you a quick peck. Holding the hem of your shirt as he gently lifted it off of you, catching his breath at the sight of your bare breasts. Hands finding their natural position as he flipped the two of you, you head cushioned against the pillows as you stared at his eyes, completely captivated by how desperate he looked, how desperate he wanted to lay his hands against your perky buds.

Starting from your lips, he made his way slowly downwards, making sure to nip the exact spot he knew to be sensitive, at this moment you hadn’t bothered to check if he was leaving marks, but with the time he took to make his way where you had wanted him, you would honestly be pissed off if you didn’t have any. He suckled on one of your breasts, making you arch your back off of the soft mattress. Gasping loudly at the newfound sensation, a drug you were exposed too for the first time, you felt his smirk. Long slender fingers began to touch the other, only adding more to the pleasure, making sure that neither of your mounds felt left out.

He pulled out of the other with a pop, mouth lingering downwards, kissing around your belly button before making its’ way towards the other one. The light illuminated the signs he left on your other boob, out of curiosity you touched your gleaming bud while he put all of his attention on the other. It was far more sensitive, your breathing had turned harsh, your throat felt constricted as you failed to let out moans, Yoongi’s ears were filled with nothing but short gasps. Your hips used your legs as support trying to get any form of contact, however, Yoongi’s legs never faltered. You only grew more desperate with every minute his lips dwelled on your breast.

Your underwear would surely be clinging onto your lips by now, you were irritated by the fabric, you wanted more, you needed it off of you.

“Yoon, please,” tears were pooling by the corner of your eyes, despite begging Yoongi whilst grinding your hips against his body, your hands grounded him against your breast. You were dazed, as if you were drowning and yet you didn’t want to be pulled out of the water, it was painful, and yet you indulged in it. It was a newfound addiction you knew you didn’t want to let go off, it was driving you crazy, towards the edge of all the boundaries you wanted to break.

He hummed, sending vibrations through your chest, you moaned loudly. You chased your breath, trying your best to calm down as he lapped your breast. You groaned even harder, protesting and demanding for something else. He grounded your hips with one of his hands, forcing you to lay still as he let go of your breast.

“God, y/n,” he left his words hanging, you lay still catching your breath as you tried to process what was happening. Sweat trickled from his neck, temporarily staining his black top. His hair was a mess, something you were responsible for, desperately clinging onto it as he showed you undiscovered territory with the small flicks of his tongue. Gently kissing your lips, you let out a sigh of relief upon feeling his calloused fingers against the material of your bottoms.

Raising your hips as you he managed to pull your underwear and your pyjamas at the same time. He pulled away from the kiss, appreciating your naked figure, his mouth was slightly open as he drunk in every detail of your body. You had nothing left to hide, lifting your chest slightly off the bed, flaunting your curves.

The moment he was able to process everything that was laid before him, he knew he was screwed. Memorising every detail, even the small mole in your thigh, everything was imprinted in his head. He knew that he’d be having a hard time from this day forward.

“A fucking goddess,” he murmured under his breath, making eye contact with you as he gently dived down, spreading your legs farther away from each other. Slowly, you revealed your entire body to him. He felt like wanton, appreciating the way your tight nether lips gently opened for him, slick evident in your thighs caused by the never ending squeeze of your legs a few minutes ago when he’d been too busy appreciating your breasts.

You looked away from him, it dawned you how exposed you had been. The way he was fully clothed, with nothing but unruly hair as evidence of the sensual act you’d been committing, you felt humiliated. Despite the fact that he was on his knees, attempting to make an eye contact right below you, you knew he was in control. He gave quick pecks just below the area you had wanted him most, “look at me,” warm air hitting your womanhood. You were innocent in this sense, everything he’d been making you feel was a first to you.

“Y/N,” he licked the inside of your thighs, and when you refused to look at him for the second time, he pulled you downwards. Like a rag doll made for him. His tongue darted straight to your clit, you’re knees felt like jelly. Closing your thighs as a response to the sudden movement, his arms we’re quick enough to wrap around your thighs, forcing them open as he let his tongue lick through the mess you’ve managed to create.

He suckled on your clit, as if licking it gently weren’t enough. Leaving open mouthed kisses, as he pushed onto the sensitive bundle of nerves using his wet appendage. You desperately hold on to the sheets, crinkling them, using your arms as support as you tried your best to hold on for your dear life. You could feel every movement he made, the way his tongue desperately tries to enter your tight hole, the way his lips would wrap around your clit, the way he would smirk after hearing you moan his name repeatedly.

“Shit, Yoongi!” You’re voice called out to him, a tad bit louder than your moans. You gasped for air, hands wrapping around his hair, legs quivering upon the new sensation that set fire to your entire body. He continued to lap your cunt, your lips growing even tighter around his tongue. The sounds he’d been able to produce was enough to drive you to the edge. Hearing how loud he was able to make your cunt sound was beyond you.

A few short breaths, the quick tug in your stomach, and the elated beating of your heart. It came crashing down on you.

You did your best, trying to close your thighs as it began to feel too much, beads of sweat trickled down your forehead as you clung onto his dark hair. With one last gasp, and the closure of his lips, you came with a yell of his name. Your release was greeted by his lips, drinking you in like his favourite wine, overwhelmed by the stimulation you felt you begged him to stop. You rode your high against his muscle, finally, he pulled away.

His chin was gleaming, signs of your release scattered around his lips. Using his thumb, he picked it up. “Open,” he raised one of his brows towards your direction, you looked at him in confusion only to follow his orders. You were greeted by his thumb, you sucked on it, not hesitating despite tasting your own cum. He pulled it out only to replace it with his mouth, sharing the familiar taste, on a regular day it would’ve been odd, but to hell with it.

Whining against him, you tugged his sweater, demanding it be discarded somewhere in the expanse of your room. Chuckling once more he finally pulled away, with a quick flick of his wrist, he threw his top somewhere. You were greeted with a body you weren’t used too. He’s been working out, oh, he’s definitely been working out.

The way his chest moved as he heaved on top of you, the way his arms would flex and the veins that crawled from his hand to his shoulder, as if he was carved by the greatest sculptors. You swallowed harshly. God, he was fucking gorgeous.

You were brought back to reality when his finger poked your entrance, biting your lip as you watched in fascination, the way you wrapped around him, the way it quivered after its’ peace had been disrupted for the first time. Pumping his hand slowly as his eyes never left yours, watching the way your face would contort with every movement, closing your eyes as tightly as you could, soaring higher than the clouds that you had to remind yourself to breath every once in a while.

He felt you flesh, making slow movements as he tried different angles, deciding which one made you moan the loudest. Finally, he found your spot. His movements getting a lot harsher by the second, “god damn it, Yoongi.” You cursed him under your breath, gasping as he went faster and faster. “You think you can take more, baby?” his voice was gentle, a stark contrast to the way his hand moved harshly against your weeping cunt.

“More, please, more,” you chanted your mantra. Your wetness spreading to the rest of his fingers, a second one slipping into the mix. His movements were fast, but not fast enough. You tried to meet his thrusts, his eyebrow cocking upwards at the way you moved below him, observing how desperately you wanted to reach your climax for the second time tonight. “Who would’ve thought you’d be this desperate for my fingers, hm?” His voice getting lower and lower throughout the duration of the sentence.

You were in your own little bubble, his hand quickly surging forward, scissoring his fingers apart in an attempt to get you more loose, to get you to open up for him. Two fingers weren’t enough. Gasping as you felt his fingers do their best to stretch inside your needy little hole, his other hand reaching forward as he tried to distract you from the sudden movements he made inside.

Your clit was getting stimulated, while his other hand pumped even faster. You’re mind went blank, unsure as to what Min Yoongi had been saying for the past few minutes. You assumed you would reach your limit at any second, however, you felt a jolt of pain when he inserted his third finger. Cursing loudly as you held his hand, your breathing growing more shallow. He pumped his hand a little harsher, giving an emphasis to the three fingers he had inside of you.

He pulled the other away from your clit and stilled his movements, you tried to move away from his hand, doing your best to form coherent thoughts as you were torn between pushing even deeper or pulling away. You gasped for air, feeling him kiss your cheek as his deep voice murmured against your ear, “you’re going to need more than two if you want us to go all the way in, baby.”

Jesus Christ, how big was his cock?

These were your exact thoughts, “a minute, Yoongi.” You did your best to relax, forcing your hold to relax as he held his hand steady your cunt desperately in need of action. His other hand went back to massaging your clit, while the remaining began pumping in a slower manner. Despite getting used to the feeling of having three fingers inside of you, it was still too much for your tight unused cunt. However, it made you feel something, soon, the pain was ebbing away. “Faster,” you wish you hadn’t told him that, as his palm began hitting your clit in an abusive manner, driving you over the edge.

The strange feeling began to build up inside of you, his pace grew faster, faster, and faster. Before you knew it, you came undone. You pushed his fingers away, your legs shaking as you desperately closed them. Despite not having anything inside of you, the pleasure was still very evident. You opened your eyes to a wet Min Yoongi, realisation dawned you. “Fucking hell,” he smirked, shushing you gently as he pried your legs open, observing the quivering hole that once sheltered three of his fingers.

You had squirted.

It explained so much, the way the sheets were damp, the way his chest had been shining, your cheeks were flushed.

Your eyes found his bulge, restrained by his belt and the rough material of his pants. You didn’t know what had taken over you, but you wanted his cock. You wondered what else he could make you feel. “Want your cock, Yoongi, please. Need it so bad,”

“Do you think you could handle more?”

You nodded eagerly, despite the dwindling tiredness in your eyes, you knew you still wanted one thing just before you pass out. You wanted to explore how much you could take, what else you could possibly feel, you wanted everything. Desperation. You were desperate for everything that Min Yoongi could give you. “Please,” that was all it took to push Yoongi over the edge. His pants and his boxers had been discarded in a flash, you gazed at him, specifically at the massive thing between his thighs.

You gasped.

Maybe you were taking more than you could afford to take, upon seeing the worried look in your face, Yoongi was quick to comfort you. Telling you that there was no rush in taking things this far, but with a quick roll of your wet cunt against his hard cock, he ceased his words. Letting a growl erupt from his chest as he moved his cock against your pussy. “You’re a beast, y/n.” Positioning his manhood against your wet hole, slowly entering you. Just his tip felt massive enough, the tears that threatened to spill earlier, were full on leaking out of your eyes as you shut them.

Gasping loudly, making an inaudible noise as you felt his tip enter you tiny little opening. “Taking me in so well,”

“Pussy still tight after taking all three of my fingers, you’re a fucking whore.” He stilled his movements, pausing every once in a while as he was slowly hugged by your body. “Ha-ah,” you moaned as he pushed it in even further. “How are you this fucking big,” your manicured nails marred the flesh of his back, marking it with small little crescents. He ignored your remarks, instead he focused on how he’d possibly fit everything in you. You thought you’d be ripped in half when he first entered his third finger, however, at this point you were certain you’re literally split into two. His monstrous cock doing its’ best to intrude your virgin walls.

Inch after inch you felt your sanity being washed away from your body, for a split second you knew your soul lifted away. Your eyes rolling back as he continued to penetrate you with his massive manhood, tiny scars forming in his back from how hard you gripped him. His thumbs sinking on your hips in an attempt to keep you grounded as he pushed himself in. The only warning you got was a quick peck on your forehead before he pushed to the hilt. You yelled, back arching off of the comfortable mattress, your tears staining your cheeks. With the way his breathing became shaky, how his words would falter and the short pauses he took in order to process the idea of having him spear through you in its’ entirety, he was over the fucking moon.

Moving away from him in an attempt to ride him, he couldn’t help but laugh at the desperate actions you took just to get fucked. Pulling out until its’ just his tip before harshly slamming back down, knocking the air out of your lungs as you tried to form coherent sentences, before giving up halfway through and just yelling his name repeatedly. “Ruining your tight fucking cunt for everyone else,” his breathing was harsh, he came in raging inside of you. Harsh pain emerging from your pussy as you took your first and last cock, biting down on your lip as you tried to calm yourself down.

Pulling your perked up nipples before releasing them with a pop, adding more pleasure to the large intrusion in your walls. You couldn’t hear anything, the only thing you could process was the filthy sound your cunt made against his balls. The discernible wet noises, the way the bed creaked against the wall, the way he heaved on top of you, for a split second the two of you owned the world. His lips met yours, his gentle kiss was far different from his rigorous thrusts.

Just when you thought he couldn’t go any faster, he’d prove you wrong with the next. Marking your neck with more purple hues, making you completely his, giving an emphasis on every suck with a harsh thrust, ending it with a gentle kiss on your exposed flesh. You knew you were going to be sore the next day.

Assisting your legs, wrapping them around his waist, he felt your cunt clench around him. “You’re close aren’t you, your cunt clenching around me, refusing to let go of my cock.”

“You’re mine, y/n. No one can ever fuck you the same way as I do,” he growled against your ear as his pace started getting harsher. You couldn’t keep up with him, the next thing you knew you were a shaking mess before him. Coming undone and clenching him, making your pussy a lot more tighter. You tried to push him away, you had already come undone three times in one night, you didn’t know if you had the capacity to cum once more.

However, all you got out of him was an apology, pounding even harder with the added pressure of his thumb circling around your clit repeatedly. “Carving my dick inside of you, because you’re all mine,” You whined in protest, more tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you tried to keep your composure. The pain of overstimulation taking over your entire body, you were all worn out.

Despite all the earlier attempts to push him off, at this point you had no energy left. So you took it all, growing far more needy for another gush of liquid in your cunt, yelling out gibberish as his pace slowly began to falter. Biting your lip, closing your eyes, you felt another tug in your stomach. As if your first orgasm had never ended, you were cumming, for the last time, hopefully.

“All. Fucking. Mine.” With each word he thrusted harder, you felt warm liquid painting your walls white as you choked out a sob. Clinging onto him as he gently pulled out. Meeting your eyes and gently wiping away your tears, jokingly slapping his arm afterwards. “The audacity you have, after doing it so roughly.” His gums appeared in front of you, the same gummy smile that made your heart bloom finally appearing once again.

He kissed your forehead before tucking you in bed, the sticky feeling from the sheets only making you wince. He stretched out his back before walking towards your bathroom, soon enough you heard the shower. Despite the icky and sick feeling of the sheets, you managed to take a 30-minute nap, only to be woken up by Yoongi gently blowing on your face. “Let’s go upstairs...” he whispered softly, pulling you up, as he wrapped your robe around you.

Carrying you as if you weighed nothing, as he walked around the house with nothing but his towel wrapped around his waist. For the first time in months, you finally got to see how his bedroom looked like. You groaned in pain after he put you down against the grain of his marble counter. Grabbing a wash cloth and rubbing the damp towel all over your body, using warm water, finally cleaning up the mess he’s managed to make. Dressing you up in a pair of your own pyjamas he must’ve gotten earlier.

You clung onto him like a baby koala afterwards, forcing him to lay down with you in his bed. The scent of pine trees covered the silk sheets, accompanied by his favourite cologne from Paco Rabanne.

Just as if a year of separation hadn’t happened, you found your way clinging to his body the same way you did when the two of you had been dating. The small peck on top of your head was nothing unusual, the instinct of having his arm gently wrap around you after such a tiring day from work. Slowly, everything pieced itself. You wondered just how you lived through a year without him, how much you wished you’d spent it together.

He inhaled your scent, closing his eyes as he felt the satisfaction rushing in his veins. “I love you, y/n... so much, so, so, much.” He whispered against your ear, lips finding your temple as he gave you another kiss. Telling you how much he appreciated you, terrified that somehow the two of you would find your way back to the same place you ended up in, all alone and in desperate need of comfort from each other. Yoongi took his time to tell you all the sweet nothings he wished he told you before you separated.

By the end of the day, the two of you were just thankful you’d finally found your way back home.

© Yoondles 2021, All Rights Reserved

[dameronology]

love in the time of p.t.a meetings {marcus moreno} - 2/5

summary: your kid has taken a liking to marcus moreno - and frankly, so have you {series masterlist}

warnings: swearing, mentions of divorce & very brief mentions of his wife’s death 

i don’t normally update series this quickly but this was originally one imagine that reached about 11k words lmao so it’s all written, just being split up. i’ve also decided it’s gonna be 5 parts instead of 3, cos i reread the ending and realised i was not done by a longshot. enjoy!

- jazz

Mondays. You hated ‘em.

Everything just seemed so...amplified. The peace and relaxation of the weekend was over and everyone had to go back on the grind. The traffic always seemed worst, the clock seemed to tick backwards and you just wanted to be at home, in bed. After an incident involving the dog, a toaster and a small pan fire, you were already running twenty minutes late and you knew in your soul that your child’s shoes weren’t on the right feet. That, and also he was wearing a Chewbacca onesie to school. It had been a compromise. As in, he was refusing to go to school unless you let him wear the damn thing. It was a compromise. You’d lost. 

On the bright side, the past weekend had been the best you’d had in a long time. Jack had spent all of Saturday afternoon at the Heroics headquarters and he was so worn out, he’d slept through all of Sunday. Marcus Moreno must have a been a fucking wizard, because you’d been trying to tire the kid out for five years. You made a mental note to do something in return, though you sensed there was nothing on God’s green earth that could possibly amount to babysitting the world’s most exhausting child for six hours. You were allowed to say that, because Jack was your world’s most exhausting child and you wouldn’t have changed him for anything. 

‘New week, huh buddy?’ You glanced at Jack in your rear view mirror. He was sat on his booster seat, legs dangling back and forth and a power ranger action figure in his hand. ‘A fresh start.’

‘Can we listen to the song from Cars?’ Jack ignored your comment.

‘You gotta try and behave yourself this week. You’ve seen what happens to people who do follow the rules, right? They get to go work at the Heroics-’

‘- I wanna listen to the song from Cars!’

You wanted to have a deep conversation. Jack wanted to listen to Life Is A Highway. That was...actually, it was exactly how you’d expected that to go. It wasn’t that off of the time you were trying to explain your divorce to him and he’d interrupted you to demand that you put Toy Story on. 

‘Sure thing, kid.’ You rolled your eyes, reaching across to hand him on your phone. ‘D’you know how to spell it-’

Your sentence was cut off by the sound of guitars blaring from the speakers. At least he could work out Spotify.

By some miracle, you managed to make it the school with a few minutes to spare. Because most people had dropped their kids off earlier (see: on time), the lot was pretty empty. That meant you could once again dump your car without regard for the painted white lines -- who had time to park properly on a Monday morning? That was for people who had their shit together.

Leaping out the car, you almost cursed when you tripped over your heels. You didn’t have to wear them, but since you’d started working in a managerial role at your office, you figured it made you look a little more professional. And what was the harm in being a few inches taller? It made you feel powerful.

‘C’mon, J.’ You pulled open the back door, helping Jack leap out the car. 

‘You know, I’m starting to think you can’t park your car at all.’

‘Marcus!’ Jack practically flew out the car, his tiny body suddenly jolting with excitement. 

‘Morning, buddy.’ He replied; he then moved his brown eyes to gaze at you, offering a smile. ‘Hey.’

‘Hey, how you doing?’ You greeted him. ‘I don’t normally see you here in the mornings.’

‘Yeah, I normally drop Missy off at the front but it was one of those mornings, you know? She was taking a little more convincing than usual to go in.’

‘My kid is in a Wookiee onesie and backwards Thomas the Tank Engine shoes and you have the audacity to ask me if I know those mornings? I am those mornings.’ You replied.

Marcus chuckled. ‘I think it’s a look. I especially like the Lightning McQueen sunglasses.’

‘Do you have a super suit?’ Jack asked. ‘Can I try it on?’

‘C’mon, Jack. You’ve already managed to get a tour of the HQ.’ You ruffled his hair. ‘And we gotta get going to school.’

‘But I wanna ask more questions.’ He muttered. ‘I have over a hundred.’

‘Don’t I know it.’ You murmured under your breath. ‘But school is more important.’

‘I don’t wanna go anymore.’

‘I let you wear the onesie. That was our agreement, remember?’

‘All good superheroes have to get an education.’ Marcus reasoned. ‘And if you go in, maybe I can show you my suit at some point?’

'Okay!’ Jack grinned. He wrapped his arms around your waist in a quick hug, before peering up at you with a toothy smile. ‘See ya later!’

He turned on his heel and ripped his backpack from your hand, suddenly speeding up the path and towards school. Had...had that just happened? For once in your life, had you not had to wrench him from the car and wrestle him through the school gates? Move aside, Harry Potter, because Marcus Moreno was the new wizard in town. You might have been a little jealous that he was so good with your son but at the same time, it made you like him even more. He was the first parent at the school that had leant into Jack’s wild tendencies. And, whilst you tried not to think too much about it, even his own dad had struggled to do that. It made your heart warm a little. 

‘You are seriously my favourite person.’ You chimed, leaning back against your car. 

‘Kids with character are way more fun than kids who are well-behaved.’ Marcus replied.

‘I spent forty-five minutes scraping string cheese out the USB port of my computer yesterday, but sure.’ 

He chuckled. ‘No, I’m serious. I don’t encourage Missy to misbehave but she does get herself into some situations. I choose to see it as a testament to her intelligence rather than disobedience.’

‘I refuse to believe for a second that Missy ever misbehaves.’ You shot back back. ‘She seems so well-behaved.’

‘What you see in the parking lot is not a reflection of our whole lives.’ He reminded you.

‘Right, because despite appearances, I’m actually a very put together parent.’ You snorted. ‘But I get what you mean.’

‘I gotta get to work now, but it was good to see you.’ Marcus pulled his car keys out his pocket. ‘I was serious about that suit thing, by the way. He saw my katanas on Saturday.’

‘Katanas?’ You spluttered. ‘My kid managed to start a fire last week out of nothing and you want to give him katanas?!’

‘Maybe I can show you how to use them.’ He flashed you a smile. ‘And then you can pass on the knowledge.’ 

‘That’s probably an even worse idea.’ You shook your head with a laugh, pulling open your car door. ‘I’ll see you around.’

‘You as well. Have a good day, pretty lady.’

--

Did you stop thinking about your exchange at any point during the day? Absolutely not. In fact, you’d already written an email to the local deed poll office to change your legal name to Pretty Lady. 

No, but in all seriousness, you’d been a little giddy about it. Had he been flirting? That didn’t seem like a long shot. You got on well, you’d hung out a bit over the weekend and not to toot your own horn, but you were by no means bad looking. Tired and a little frazzled, sometimes? Yeah. But anyone would have been lucky to have you and you were doing a better job at recognising that, especially since your divorce. 

You were almost ecstatic when it got to 4PM and you hadn’t received a single call from Jack’s teachers. That meant that he had behaved, and what Marcus had said had worked. Because you worked past his finishing time, he usually went to the after-school club till you could come to collect him - it had been a lifesaver, especially since you couldn’t always leave early. He usually came home with some kind of weird arts and crafts. Last week, it had been an unidentifiable item made of dried macaroni and glitter. He’d placed it pridefully on the old fireplace in your lounge. 

After saying goodbye to your co-workers, you headed out the building. Your office was right in the city centre and not too far out from the school. It was a nice place to be; your lunch hour, when you could head out to a street cart and eat your food in the local park, was usually the highlight of your day. It was when you could exist just as you. When you were at work, you were in charge on your entire department. When you were home, you were a parent 24/7. That time to yourself was vital.

As you were heading to your car, your phone began to ring. Your heart almost jumped out your chest when you saw Marcus’ name - he hadn’t called you before, only texted to sort out the previous weekend’s plans with Jack. You quickly organised yourself (he couldn’t see you, dumb ass) and cleared your throat.

‘Hey, everything alright?’ You brightly greeted him.

‘Hey! Are you out of work now?’

‘Yeah, I’m literally just leaving. What’s up?’

‘Look, I hate to do this but I’ve had an emergency at work - superhero related, you don’t wanna know - and I’m not gonna be out for hours.’ Marcus sounded stressed. Yeah, I feel that you thought. ‘Would you be able to pick up Missy and possibly have her for a few hours? If not, that’s totally-’

‘- I’d be glad too!’ You interrupted him. ‘I owe you one anyways for the weekend. And this morning, actually.’

‘You don’t owe me anything.’ He sounded surprised that you’d even imply it. ‘But I will definitely owe you for having Missy.’

‘Hey, it’s cool!’ You insisted. ‘Do you want me to drop her off at yours later?’

‘I can come and collect her if you text me your address?’

‘Perfect.’ You smiled. ‘I’ll see you later then?’

‘You’re a lifesaver.’ Marcus said. ‘I’ll text Missy to let her know to find your car instead of mine. I would ask for your plate number, but your car is...’

‘...bright red, covered in dents and hard to miss?’ You finished his sentence.

‘Exactly.’

You’d been in the same situation before; pulled between work and parenting, with Jack stuck at school and an important meeting that felt like it was never ending. It was hard to get a sitter on such short notice - or afford one, sometimes - and it was just another one of the million, stressful situations that single parenting could get you into. If you could help Marcus even a little bit, of course you were going to. You knew he’d do the same for you. Heck, he had done the same for you.

Jack and Missy were both chatty on the way home. Given that she was a little older than him, her conversational skills were strikingly better. It was nice to ask someone about their day and not get where are my Cheetos? as an answer. From what you gathered, she hated science class, enjoyed gym, and her favourite subject was lunch. That didn’t come as a surprise to you - her dad was a literal superhero and probably encouraged physical activity.

(You’d seen his arms, okay? They were more than enough to go on. I digress).

The only thing that made you wish you’d had a little more notice on having her for the evening was the state of your apartment. The place wasn’t bad; you’d lived there for the better part of eight years, and it was crammed with soft furniture and millions of blankets, as well as photos of you and Jack and his questionable art projects. It was just that you hadn’t done the dishes that morning, there was a mountain of shoes by the door and the pancakes from the previous night were still stuck on the roof.

Missy barely blinked an eye; the minute she saw your dog, she’d abandoned her bag and was playing with him. 

‘Hey buddy!’ She grinned. ‘What’s he called?’

‘That’s Oppy.’ You replied, hanging your jacket up. She didn’t need to know that it was short for Optimus Prime. No guesses on whose idea that had been. 

‘He’s so cute!’ Missy continued. ‘I’ve been asking dad for a dog for ages but he won’t budge.’

For some reason, that surprised you a little. Marcus might have been the leader of a super-hero team and a public figure, but you could tell he would do anything for his daughter. You knew because it was the same for you with Jack. He might have ruled your whole life but you would have hung the damn stars in the sky for him if he asked 

‘They’re a lot of work.’ You reasoned. ‘I have to wake up every morning at 6AM to make sure he gets a walk. Then there’s the matter of-’

‘- mum! Optimus Prime pooped in the bathroom!’

‘The matter of that.’ You murmured under your breath.

The rest of the evening went pretty smoothly. You fed the kids some leftover takeaway and between the dog and Netflix, they were easily entertained. Jack seemed to take a liking to Missy, which was good because it meant he wanted to sit with her the entire time instead of bouncing off the walls. She had the same patience as her dad, especially when he asked her a million questions about superheroes. It took her twenty minutes to convince him that Batman wasn’t her uncle, and a further fifteen to make him believe that she hadn’t met Captain America. 

Jack had asked you a few times about whether or not he would get siblings. Of course, it would be different to any interactions with Missy because he would have been the oldest, but it did get you thinking. You were finally in a place where you were moving past your former relationship and healing from the wounds. Time wasn’t much of an issue either - you’d had Jack when you were young and barely out of college. You couldn’t possibly imagine having any more kids right now, not when it was just the two of you, but in the future? You’d never rule out meeting somebody new. If anything, you were hopeful. Your first relationship had been your only one, and it had ended badly. You wanted to experience love for what it actually was, and not what you thought it was supposed to be. 

Not long after 7PM, there was a knock on your door. By that point, both Missy and Jack had passed out on the sofa with Star Wars playing quietly in the background. It had been her idea to watch it - she had good taste. Marcus had clearly done a good job.

‘Hey!’ You greeted him as you pulled open the front door. ‘Come in quick, it’s fucking freezing out there.’

‘Thank you.’ Marcus came inside, dusting a few snow flakes out his hair. ‘Seriously, I can’t say it enough-’

‘- it’s fine!’ You shook your head, offering him a smile. ‘Missy’s been great. She’s really chatty and it was nice to have a coherent conversation with someone that isn’t about Paw Patrol. But was everything at the office okay?’

He was quiet for a minute. ‘Yeah. We uh, we lost someone. A hero.’

‘Shit, man. I’m sorry.’ Your voice fell quiet. ‘You wanna come in? You look like you could probably take a moment.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course! Missy and Jack are both asleep on the couch anyways.’ You pointed through to the living room. Marcus leant over to have a look, smiling slightly at the sight. 

‘Thank you. I’d appreciate that.’

He took a seat at the kitchen counter. Your old bar stools were a little old and wobbly, but Marcus didn’t seem to notice. If anything, he admired the place. It was cluttered as hell and filled with useless, old items - cook books you didn’t use, random magnets, assorted toys - but it was nice. His house always felt a little cold and clinical. He’d moved a lot over the course of Missy’s life and now that he was retired from the field, he’d sworn to her that their current house was going to be permanent. Whether or not it felt like home was another question entirely. 

‘I would offer you a drink but all I have is..’ you paused, opening the fridge. ‘Nesquik, vodka or apple juice.’

‘You know what? A Nesquik doesn’t sound too bad.’

‘I like your thinking, Moreno.’

After quickly fixing up the two drinks, you slid into the seat beside him and handed him one. You had never in a million years imagined a situation where Marcus Moreno would be in your kitchen drinking chocolate milk, but here we were. It had clearly been a long day for him and you had enough of those to last a lifetime, so you knew how it felt. Coming home after a day that had beat your ass into the ground and having to put on a brave face for your kids was difficult at best. 

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ You gently asked.

‘Yeah, I’ll be okay - it just always fucks me up a bit.’ Marcus murmured quietly. ‘Hits a little too close to home.’

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew that you knew what had happened to his wife. You knew why he’d retired, and why he and Missy had moved away from their original city six years ago.

‘Sorry, that was too deep-’

‘- it wasn’t!’ You quickly cut him off. ‘I’ve had random women come up to me at pick up time and say they’re sorry to hear about my divorce. People I don’t even know. So really, after that, nothing is too much.’ 

He smiled slightly. ‘They always say they’re sorry but why would you bring up a subject if you have to apologise for it?’

‘Exactly!’ You replied. ‘Especially when I’ve moved on. It’s been a year.’

‘It’s the same with me. Missy and I miss her everyday but we don’t mope about it. We just...we look back with fondness on the good memories we have. You can’t move forward if you’re stuck in the past, no matter how much it sucks.’

‘That’s...that’s wise.’ You blinked in surprise. ‘S’pose that means I should take down the dartboard I have with my ex’s face on.’

‘From what I’ve heard, he seems like he should have more than a dart board.’ Marcus snorted - then he froze. ‘Wait, not that I’ve heard stuff, I mean...I don’t listen-’

‘- Marcus!’ You whacked his arm. ‘It’s fine. One of the other kid’s mums started telling me about the terrible divorce someone was going through but she realised she was gossiping to the one who was going through it.’

‘I don’t know how much of what I’ve been told is true, but it sounds like it was bad.’ His hand hovered over where yours was rested on the counter. 

‘The rumours pretty much get the gist of it.’ You replied. ‘But we were talking about your thing, so I don’t wanna take away from that.’

‘Hey, it’s okay.’ He finally moved his hand, fingers gently curling underneath yours to intertwine them. ‘If even half of the whispers are true, he sounds like an asshole. You and Jack both deserve better than that.’

Whatever people had said, it had sort of covered the gist of it. You’d married too young and had a kid too young - your ex had been a terrible husband and an even worst husband. He’d chastised Jack for being...well, being Jack. He’d stay out late with his friends, spend money on things neither of you needed and tried to make you take the blame for it all. After giving him a few too many chances, you’d finally reached breaking point and kicked him out. Filing for divorce and taking on being a single parent was single-handedly the hardest and bravest thing you’d ever had to do. In a way, you were glad you’d done it when Jack was still so young - he didn’t really understand any of it, even when you’d try to explain it in child friendly terms.

‘I think people judge me for it a little sometimes.’ You confessed. ‘They see me struggling but they know I made the choice to separate from him, like I brought it all on myself.’

‘That’s bullshit.’ Marcus plainly stated. ‘Parenthood isn’t a dependent thing based on whether or not you’re still married to the other parent. It’s unconditional and permanent.’

‘I should tell him that, but I also don’t want him back in our lives.’

‘I know it’s none of my business, but he doesn’t deserve Jack. He’s one of the best and brightest kids I’ve ever met.’

‘Thank you. I’m glad he doesn’t seem like a complete lunatic.’

‘He doesn’t deserve you either.’ Marcus continued. ‘Again, I might be out of place saying this but you are...you’re amazing. I was a wreck when I was suddenly on my own and you’re still holding everything together and working your ass off.’ 

‘You’ve noticed?’ You quirked an eyebrow.

‘Yeah, in passing.’ He admitted. ‘I remember I once saw you carrying three separate science projects at once and then Carol made a passing comment that you were on your own and...I just kinda admired you from afar.’

‘You, Marcus Moreno, admired me?’ You blinked at him in disbelief. ‘I find that hard to believe.’

‘I wish I’d had my shit together half as much as you did when I lost Missy’s mum.’ 

‘But the difference is you didn’t have a choice in your situation. I chose to boot his dad out-’

‘- you gotta stop discrediting yourself.’ He shook his head. ‘And stop blaming yourself. You did what was right for your kid and that is the most admirable thing of all.’

‘You really think so?’

‘I know so.’

The conversation slowly drizzled away, leaving you two to just look at each other. It was hard to tear yourself away from his brown eyes - there was a lot going on behind them. Fear, pain, anguish, admiration. He was one of the most mind-blowingly impressive people you’d ever met; single dad, superhero, electric car owner. He probably didn’t have a mortgage too and that was kinda hot. You were none of those things and yet, here he was, with you, managing to connect on a level that you never had with anyone. Both of your situations were tough, but they’d brought you together. 

Marcus Moreno was pretty fucking fearless (came with the job, you figured), and he wasn’t afraid to make the first move. He slowly inched his head forward and in return, you gravitated towards him. Your lips met halfway in a soft kiss, his hands moving to firmly hold your waist as he pulled you closer.

You almost stumbled out your chair with the movement, but his grip on your hips meant you didn’t slip. Instead, he placed you up on the counter, standing up as he did. It took you a moment to adjust to the position, but with your legs resting on either side of his, you could reach forward and lean on him. You had one hand tangled in his hair and the other on the back of his neck -  you’d surprised yourself with that. It had been months since you’d kissed anyone, but you weren’t as rusty as you thought. 

‘Oh my god, is the superhero gonna be my new dad?!’

Marcus suddenly jumped backwards at the sound of Jack’s voice. He was stood in the doorway, post-nap hair covered by a lopsided Chewbacca hood. His eyes were like dinner plates, even though he was grinning from ear to ear. 

‘Uh...’ you glanced between him and Marcus. ‘We were just...we were...’

‘I had something in my eye.’

‘He had something in his eye.’ You quickly agreed. ‘But now it’s out, so Marcus is gonna go home.’

He knew you didn’t mean it rudely - it was more of a desperation thing. The longer he stayed, the more questions Jack would come out with. Missy could have overheard too and that would have been twice as much to explain. So really, the sooner he got out, the better.

‘Yeah. I’ll uh, I’ll grab Missy.’ Marcus said, scratching the back of his head. ‘Thank you again for looking after her.’

‘You don’t need to keep thanking me.’ You shot back. 

He disappeared into the living room for a moment, reemerging with a sleeping Missy in his arms a moment later. Your eyes met again, and he gave you a soft smile.

‘I’ll call you.’

‘Yeah, sure.’  You nodded. ‘See you, Marcus.’

--

True to character, the next hour was spent being pelted with questions from your over-curious son. He didn’t shut up once when you were bathing him and he got even louder when you were reading him his best time story. On the bright side, you’d managed to get him to change out of his slightly manky Wookiee onesie and into a clean Buzz Lightyear one. Normally, you would have argued that he couldn’t live in pyjamas, but if it kept him quiet? It was a price you were willing to pay. 

‘Night, kiddo.’ You pressed a kiss to his forehead, switching on his nightlight. ‘Remember our deal, yeah? If I buy you a Happy Meal tomorrow, you won’t mention what you saw to any of your friends?’

‘You said library was bad.’

‘No, it’s bribery.’ You corrected him. ‘And do as I say, not as I do.’

‘Sounds bad, but okay.’ He sleepily murmured. ‘Night.’

‘Night.’ You stood up, flicking out his bedroom lights.

‘Wait, mum!’ Jack suddenly sat up, as though he’d remembered something. ‘You never said no.’

‘No to what, buddy?’

‘When I asked if the superhero was my new dad.’

Well, fuck. 

taglist: @naivara-duneimith @1-2-3-4-5metalfingers @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @lyanna-the-giantsbane @phoenixhalliwell @crazycookiecrumbles​ @bitchin-beskar​ @comphersjost​ {message me to be added!}