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mydearesthrry · 4 years ago

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places we won’t walk (chapter one) || peter parker

summary - the doors at midtown seem a little boring, but when you get introduced to someone you seem to remember, what happens when they seem to remember you too?

word count - 2.9k (wow shes gettin better!)

pairings - peter parker x fem!reader

warnings - like mild mention of s*xual assault, angst if you squint really hard, mj being a softy for you, mj being a lowkey bi, peter being stupid as always, y/n calling peter a colonizer.... thats it ok enjoy

a/n: so i know i last updated in october, but as u all saw i have a 25 days of xnas thing going on (PLS I WROTE THE A/N LIKE A MONTH AGO PLUS I FORGOT ABOUT THE XMAS THING DISREGARD) so pwww updates will be slow (as if they werent already omg) but the next chapter will be arriving hopefully, fingers crossed, on xmas eve or xmas! also, are you guys watching the new euphoria episode? also, i’ve stopped using the word ‘stuttering’, as it may be ableist, and i’d never wanna come off as insensitive. anyway lmao, enjoy chapter one, the trials and tribulations of hitting someone in the nuts.

also side note psa: biggest thank you to @blossomparkers for helping me so much w this chapter. i owe it all tooooo u lani yani. thank u for everything !!!!!

series masterlist | regular masterlist | series playlist

(gif not mine!)

when y/n y/m/n stark was in her early years, she was never aware of the impact her father would and did hold over her life, and in turn, the whole world. for the longest time, you’d always assumed that your father wasn’t real, and everything that had been told to you by malicious family members who were jealous over your father’s “successes” had been lies, and you had it believed yourself. no one would even think that you were tony stark’s daughter until it had been mentioned. tony’s snarky attitude had been a character trait that you’d gotten, and you always took pride in your humor and attitude.

the story of your mother and tony had been messy and all over the place. from a drunken hook-up followed by multiple days of morning sickness, to a surprise pregnancy test, the storyline of your parents had been.. well.. interesting to say the least. you never focused on your family’s history, solely based on the fact that you didn’t have two fucks to give about your family history, but you also never knew your father which was-- bizarre.

when tony had found out about you, he claimed it was a drunken accident, a mistake, and one he made when he was “less responsibly a stark”, which was actually just some fucking bullshit, but he didn’t wanna admit that he hooked up with some random chick at a bar that he thought was hot.

since you had been raised by a mother who was barely there, you had to raise yourself. you were kinda street smart and book smart, and you were always smart when it came to books, because you were the type to want to learn-- unlike others.

when you were in your teen years, you had tabs on you and the media on you 24/7 to make sure you didn’t royally fuck up. the unwanted attention became too much when you started realizing that people didn’t want you for your personality, they wanted you for your title. but this was after you moved from brooklyn. nuvale and peter never saw you as some “movie star”, or some famous person in the media because you weren’t. but when you had grown to learn what your father did, he had forced you to not fuck up to maintain his-- somewhat okay reputation.

you always wanted that superstar life, as a fantasy of course, but when you got to it, you realized the cliche-y-ness of it all. you’d idolized the famous women in the media-- idolized how they looked like. you realized fairly quick how fucked up the media truly is. you realized how things really aren’t as they seem. its not just the galas that look extravagant, or getting to wear a fancy new gucci outfit every night. it honestly was a whole bunch of other shit you wouldn’t even imagine. it comes with the no privacy thing- people stalking you in public, the death threats, so much shit that wouldn’t happen as common if you were just anonymous.

being an avenger (basically), your dad had natasha teach you the ropes; the basic rules of how to kick someones ass. it was a handbook that the women of the avengers had created, and it had all the rules and regulations of how to spar someone on the team, and basically how to righteously beat someone's ass up. it was never really something you found too important, but as you grew older, you realized that it was very important to know, especially since you were a girl.

despite your harsh remarks and snarky attitude, your father always knew how to hit a sensitive point in you that always managed to break you down. you never quite understood why he would want to make you feel worse about yourself than you already felt, but regardless, you always felt underappreciated by him. being a stark, you were expected to be a genius, get over the top grades, and constantly be able to keep up, but with your luck, you were graced with depression, social anxiety, and a 4.0 gpa. fun, right?

wrong.

when you were 11, you had made friends with the kids in your apartment halls, and you learned that their names were nuvale jones and peter parker, and you were basically the golden trio. you were hermione, peter was ron, and nuvale was harry. which, now that you look back at it, makes much more sense than any other arrangement. you also had another friend, harry osborn, but once he moved away, there was no way for you to talk to him anymore. he had moved across the country to california, and from then, it was just you, peter, and nuvale. your best friends ha been there for you for what seemed like decades, although you only knew them for about three.

peter was the boy with the rosy cheeks who little 12 year old you would get butterflies in her tummy. or the type of boy to bring you an extra snack if you weren’t able to pack it the night before. he was the type of boy to walk you to the nurses office if you got hit with a dodgeball. he was the type of boy to fall for someone like you. but he didn’t. or so you thought.

little prebubescent y/n was an awkward girl who thought the world would be on her side when she needed it the most, or that whenever you needed peter or nuva, they would be there. you didn’t think your best friend would stop talking to you after you had moved away. you were too naive to know that peter liked you, and you were too naive to know that he had liked you back, but you wanted to believe what your brain would tell you, so you decided to flush your feelings down the drain and forget about them, which, in hindsight, was a pretty shitty idea. who would’ve known?

your alarm clock blared loudly from beside you, causing you to let out a loud groan in protest. you hit the side of your head angrily, then whining and rubbing the spot which you hit. whines and loud sighs fell from your lips as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and pulled the covers over your head, knowing what would come next after you would try to snooze your alarm.

“good morning, miss stark, how could i be of service to you this morning?” friday’s voice echoed through your large bedroom. you peaked your eyes and forehead from beneath the covers, your eyes slowly starting to adjust to the light that was pulled through the big blinds which were now open.

“mmm, fri, just tell happy to get the car ready, ill be ready in a few min- nevermind, tell him to get ready in thirty, im probably gonna fall asleep in the shower.” you croaked, taking your phone from the charger which was on your nightstand. you slipped on your bunny slippers and turned on the heater in your room, the draft filling your room with cold air throughout the night.

-------

once you walked through the large industrial doors of midtown’s cafeteria, everyones voices started to drop into sharp hushed whispers, making you roll your eyes and pull your hood up over your face. you pulled your airpods from your pockets into your ears and tried your best to avoid any and all eye contact with anyone you did end up coming into contact with. you walked over to the food bar where you grabbed a red school tray and plastered on your best smile to the lunch ladies who work oh so hard to make sure you all were fed. as you walked through the line, you could feel the intensified stares on you, making your back erupt in chills. you didn’t like to be watched, and the fact that you were a so-called celebrity didn’t help your cause in any way.

“hey.” a low voice called from behind you. it was a girl with curly hair with gorgeous light brown skin, and a jawline that would cut you. you were almost astonished by her beauty, but you remembered the facade you had to hold, especially to strangers that you didn’t know.

“hey?” you asked unsurely, wondering if she was with the media or not. which was something that tended to happen quite a bit.

“don’t worry, i’m not with the press. you just seem interesting.” she said in a monotone voice, but still with a strong look of seriousness on her face. you giggled softly when your eyes locked and your faces went totally still, making the girl in front of you laugh as well. she held out her hand in front of you, while also balancing her tray and book in the other hand. you placed yours into hers and shook it, smiling when she told you her name.

“michelle jones.” she smiled, your throat getting a little tight at her last name, and you had to admit that it struck a little chord within you, but you quickly cleared it from your thoughts and introduced yourself as well.

“y/n stark. pleasure to meet you, jones.”

“pleasure to meet you too.”

“so, i get that you’re new here,” she started walking, inviting you to walk along with her. “what- what are you doing here? i mean i get you’re smart and all, but this is a nerd school; you literally could’ve gone anywhere, so, might i ask, why here?”

“hm, interesting question. seriously i don’t know. my dad and i don’t really get along so he makes the decisions and i tell him if i like it or not. which by the way, i’m gonna have to stay near you-- you’re the only one making this bearable for me right now.” you snorted, nudging your elbow to hers.

“hm, daddy issues. great song, love the artists.” she smirked, making you shoot your head back in loud laughter, gaining some side eyed glances from a few people sitting at the tables around you.

“so, where are we sitting? i usually nev-”

“hey mj!” you were interrupted by a boyish laugh and hoots and hollers coming from a table two tables ahead of you.

“jesus fucking christ. what? just because i got some and you didn’t doesn’t mean that you have to be that fuckin’ loud about it.” she grumbled, placing her tray down, slinging the backpack on her right shoulder beside her. you looked at her with a nervous but curious glint in your eyes. she gave you a knowing look which said, ‘just go with what i say’, making you nod in understanding.

“woah! holy shit! i m- i mean woah- nice to- nice to meet you!” the boy fumbled over his words, looking at you and michelle in disbelief, shaking his friends shoulder and poking at his cheek.

“nice cut, g. looks nice.” you said to him, giggling as you stuck your straw into the mini juice box.

“o-oh, thanks… g?” he said back to you, observing your looks with a confused expression written on his face making you giggle at his confusion.

“peter! look! y/n stark is at our table!” he whisper shouted to his friend, making you look at michelle with a smile on your face and playfully rolling your eyes. she looked back at you, rolling her eyes as well, gesturing to her head as if saying ‘idiots’, making you giggle and turn back to them.

“so, bowl cut dude, what’s your name?” you nodded to him, picking at your salad with the blac spork that was so cordially given to you by mj.

“n-ned, ned leeds.” he smiled sheepishly.

“and you, colonizer, what’s your name?” you tapped on the table, alerting the boys attention. you could hear michelle and ned hollering and snickering from their seats, but decided to keep your poker face rolling. but i mean, how couldn’t you? the look on his face was absolutely priceless.

“peter park- wait did you just call me a colonizer?” he cut himself off in his own sentence, looking at his other friends for confirmation, to which they nodded, still cackling at the fact that you had indeed call him a colonizer.

“peter park, hm?” you teased, ignoring the way you hesitated and ignoring the way your chest felt heavy when the name of peter was said.

“n-no thats not my name-” he said, tripping over his words, making you let out a chuckle.

“i’m messing with you. with what you’ve given me, i could only guess your name is peter parker?” you rested your chin on your hand, engaging in the awkward conversation.

“yeah. thats my name.” he said more confidently, giving you a tight lipped smile.

“nice to meet you, parker.”

“you too, stark, my pleasure.”

----

after the small encounter with your new found friends, you had gone back to your respective classes, which meant that your next class had peter in it. after you had split up, you decided to get there early to avoid any commotion surrounding you.

as the boring class continued, you heard the loud clicking of high heels in the hallways, which had to be one person and one person only.

“stark,” someone shouted from the door which swung open. low and behold, in front of you was the prickly bitch, your principal, mrs cunningham. “come with me, eugene’s parents have requested a meeting with you and your father considering that you had just hit their son in the private areas!” everyone snickered and laughed. finally someone had stood up to flash’s shit.

“y- you punched flash in the nuts? i thought that was just a rumor?” peter stuttered, looking at you in disbelief.

“yeah, the fuck was i gonna do? let him flirt with me? no. that bitch tried to grab my ass. i’m a stark, i was raised better than that.” you whispered to him, packing your bag as you did so.

“hm, guess you’re right. well, good luck stark.”

“thanks parker.”

--------

once you arrived in the principals office, you saw what seemed to be his mother in one of the seats decked out in expensive pearls and diamonds. typical.

“little miss over here punched my son in the privates! i will not allow this to happen!” fuck. you thought; another one of those stuck up cunty parents.

“pfft, probably paid to get their son into here.” you muttered under your breath, playing with your protection bracelets incase anything was to ever happen.

“wHAT? mrs cunningham, i will not allow this child to talk about my son this wa-”

“hello! i was called in?” a voice interrupted, one you could only peg as your father.

“ahh! mr stark! you’re finally here!” your hilarious excuse as a principal said cheerfully.

“i am! and i am here to.. come and have a meeting about my daughter's- behavior?” he asked questiongly, already seeing the triumphant and cocky look on your face. he knew you weren’t at fault, and you were gonna lie your pretty ass out of it.

“well, mr stark, we have a student in the nurses room due to the actions of your daughter!” she looked at him menacingly. he shook his head with a smile on his face and walked over to you, grasping your shoulders in his hands.

“well kiddo, wanna explain what and why you did what you did?” he smiled, giving you two taps on your shoulder, already knowing what was next. you two had a pretty good acting schedule when it came to it, when in reality, you despised eachother.

“sure daddy! eugene had been hitting on me for several days now, and even found my private social medias in use to.. how can i say this, use me for my fame? he tried talking to me, very inappropriately on several occasions, and even went as far as to try and grab me in areas in which i find extremely inappropriate, without my consent, might i add, which doesn’t seem okay with me. does it seem exceptional to you, mrs thompson?” you asked, while only keeping your eyes on his mother.

“why, i am so sorry miss stark! his father will be in contact, i did not raise my baby to be this way! im sorry for any inconvenience he may have caused you!” she gasped, raising a hand to her heart.

“it’s okay, i just request, may this never happen again? i would not like my privacy to be invaded, much less from your son, and can i please ask that he never try to hit on me, nor any girls at this school ever again? i can only imagine how many other girls this may have happened to, mrs thompson.” you sighed, your eyes filling up with fake tears. you reached up to touch your fathers hand, tapping it twice back, knowing that you both had just won.

“never again miss stark, once again, i am so sorry this happened to you.”

“it’s okay. now mrs cunningham, shall we see our way out?” your father answered for you, looking over at the old white woman who looked like a piece of cheese. she could only nod in awe, giving you the cue to pick up your bags and walk proudly to the door.

“thanks i guess.” you muttered, pulling out your airpods once more, hoping to seal the conversation with your father.

“yeah yeah, no problemo.” he muttered back, avoiding eye contact and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

once you reached the door, you remembered that you had left something in your locker, and informed your dad that you’d be going back to get it. he all but nodded and looked back at his shoes before trudging to the car.

once you entered the seemingly halls, much to your surprise, you saw a scrawny teenage boy lifting open a set of lockers, which you didn’t even know was possible, and pulling out a red and blue suit. once you saw who the hands belonged to, your mouth fell agape as you gasped,

“peter?”

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mab1905 · 4 years ago

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More Fitzjames content? Yeah... here’s a playlist for ya’ll...

These are songs which I think describe him at different points in his character developement or simply different aspects of his personality. Somewhat James/Crozier (Fitzier) but all about James.

(25 songs, 1 hour 33 min)

Song List + Most Character-Relevant Lyrics:

Fancy — Orville Peck

We didn't have money for food or rent / To say the least, we was hard pressed / Then Mama spent every last penny we had / To buy me a dancin' dress / Mama washed and combed and curled my hair / And she painted my eyes and lips / Stepped into a satin dancin' dress / That had a slit in the side clean up to my hips / It was red velvet trim, and it fit me good / Starin' back from the lookin' glass / There stood a woman where a half-gown boy had stood / ... / It sounded like somebody else that was talkin' / Askin', "Mama, what do I do?" / She said, "Just be nice to the gentlemen, Fancy / They'll be nice to you" / "Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down / Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down / Lord, forgive me for what I do / But if you want out, well, it's up to you / Now don't let me down now / Your mama's gonna move you uptown"

gold rush — Taylor Swift

What must it be like / To grow up that beautiful? / With your hair falling into place like dominos / ... / At dinner parties / I call you out on your contrarian shit / And the coastal town / We wandered 'round had never / Seen a love as pure as it / And then it fades into the gray of my day old tea / 'Cause you know it could never be

The Name Of The Game — ABBA

Your smile, and the sound of your voice / And the way you see through me / Got a feeling, you give me no choice / But it means a lot to me / So I wanna know / What's the name of the game?

Spectrum — Florence + The Machine

And when we come for you / We'll be dressed up all in blue / With the ocean in our arms / Kiss your eyes and kiss your palms / And when it's time to pray / We'll be dressed up all in grey / With metal on our tongues / And silver in our lungs / ... / And when we come back we'll be dressed in black / And you'll scream my name aloud / And we won't eat and we won't sleep / We'll drag bodies from the ground / So say my name / And every colour illuminates / And we are shining / And we'll never be afraid again

Dreamy Bruises — Sylvan Esso

How can we question / What we knows feels right / Black eyes turn to marigolds / In the morning light / Ohweeohweeoh kids move so slow / Shaken all over like some dogs at the pool / Ohweeohweeoh kids move so slow / They’re kicken all the records over acting like they hanging water / Ohweeohweeoh kids move so slow / Down in the basement where the sun don't show / Ohweeohweeoh kids movie so slow / Naked dollars wonder piles dreamy bruises rotten lovers / And they say I want you / To bend me back in two / To make me sing your tune / To make those words so smooth / Fill me like a song do

Wolf — Sylvan Esso

But no birds nor beast does he eat / He only wants the tenderest meat / And oh the sounds he makes them speak / Under all different patterns of sheets / ... / The modern wolf, the modern wolf / Drippin' in all the lives that he took / He'll go on home, try to wash them off / But when he shaves, he hears them call

Francis Forever — Mitski

On sunny days I go out walking / I end up on a tree-lined street / I look up at the gaps of sunlight / I miss you more than anything / I don't need the world to see / That I've been the best I can be, but / I don't think I could stand to be / Where you don't see me / And autumn comes when you're not yet done / With the summer passing by, but / I don't think I could stand to be / Where you don't see me

James — MGMT

James / If you need a friend / Come right over / Don't even knock / And I'll be home / The door is always open / And we both can say, "Who's laughing now?" / Oh, James / My little doll / You just go outside and you call / Oh, James / Oh, you're never too far off / If your fire's out / There's no need to shout / I'm always home / And walk on in / I'll make you tea and breakfast / And we both can say, "Who's laughing now?"

South London Forever — Florence + The Machine

I drive past the place that I was born / And the places that I used to drink / Young and drunk and stumbling in the street / Outside the Joiners Arm's like foals unsteady on their feet / With the art students and the boys in bands / High on E and holding hands with someone that I just met / I thought it doesn't get / Better than this / There can be nothing better than this / Better than this / And we climbed onto the roof, the museum / And someone made love in the glass / And I'd forgot my name / And the way back to my mother's house / With your black cool eyes and your bitten lips / The world is at your fingertips / It doesn't get better than this / What else could be better than this? / Oh, don't you know I have seen / I have seen the fields aflame / And everything I ever did / Was just another way to scream your name

Oh! You Pretty things — David Bowie

I think about a world to come / Where the books were found by the Golden ones / Written in pain, written in awe / By a puzzled man who questioned / What we work here for / All the strangers came today / And it looks as though they're here to stay / Oh You Pretty Things (Oh You Pretty Things) / Don't you know you're driving your / Mamas and Papas insane / Oh You Pretty Things (Oh You Pretty Things) / Don't you know you're driving your / Mamas and Papas insane / Let me make it plain / You gotta make way for the Homo Superior

Venus As A Boy — Björk

His wicked sense of humor / Suggests exciting sex / His fingers they focus on her and touches / He's Venus as a boy / ... / All across your lips, oh, then until / Well be that it's a little now, until / He believes in a beauty / He's Venus as a boy / He believes in a beauty and gentle

Winds Change — Orville Peck

Had a lover but I lost my patience / Gonna get a song on a radio station / Got a fire but you just can't use it / I don't mean no lies, baby, please don't lose it / Lost my way on the other side / I know why, I don't know when / From the way that we said goodbye / I knew I'd never see you again / Left my mind in the Salt Lake City / Met a lot of men who would call me pretty / Pack of reds, watch the days get colder / Don't it make you cry, how we're getting older?

Fluorescent Adolescent — Arctic Monkeys

Oh the boy's a slag / The best you ever had / The best you ever had is just a memory / And those dreams weren't as daft as they seem / Not as daft as they seem / My love, when you dream them up... / Flicking through a little book of sex tips / Remember when the boys were all electric? / Now when she's told she's gonna get it / I'm guessing that she'd rather just forget it / Clinging to not getting sentimental / Said she wasn't going but she went still / Likes her gentlemen not to be gentle / Was it a Mecca dauber or a betting pencil? / Oh the boy's a slag / The best you ever had / The best you ever had is just a memory / And those dreams weren't as daft as they seem / Not as daft as they seem / My love, when you dream them up / Falling about / You took a left off Last Laugh Lane / Just sounding it out / But you're not coming back again.

Cheerleader — St. Vincent

I've had good times / With some bad guys / I've told whole lies / With a half smile / Held your bare bones / With my clothes on / I've thrown rocks / Then hid both my arms / I've played dumb / When I knew better / Tried so hard / Just to be clever / I know honest thieves / I call family / I've seen America / With no clothes on / I don't know what I deserve / But for you I could work / Cause I don’t want to be a cheerleader no more

Queen Bitch — David Bowie

She's so swishy in her satin and tat / In her frock coat and bipperty-bopperty hat / Oh God, I could do better than that / Oh, yeah / She's an old-time ambassador / Of sweet talking, night walking games / Oh and she's known in the darkest clubs / For pushing ahead of the dames / If she says she can do it / Then she can do it, she don't make false claims / But she's a queen and such a queen / Such a laughter is sucked in their brains / Now she's leading him on / And she'll lay him right down / Yes, she's leading him on / And she'll lay him right down / But it could have been me / Yes, it could have been me

Boys Keep Swinging — David Bowie

Heaven loves ya / The clouds part for ya / Nothing stands in your way / When you're a boy / Clothes always fit ya / Life is a pop of the cherry / When you're a boy / When you're a boy / You can wear a uniform / When you're a boy / Other boys check you out / You get a girl / These are your favorite things / When you're a boy / Boys / Boys / Boys keep swinging

Caterpillars (Of The Common Wealth) — Will Connolly

You know you'll always be my valentine / Now swear to god that you will never tell / They're streaming every indiscretion live / For caterpillars of the commonwealth / Gotta go / You can stay / Make yourself at home / Gotta go / This campaign / Don't run itself you know / You've got potential little parasite / I tie your hands so i can wish you well / Cuz i'm a gentleman and you are like / A caterpillar of the commonwealth / Gotta go / I said no / You need to know your role / Gotta go / I said no / It's all under control

Imposters (Little By Little) — The Fratellis

You wear your mask, I'll wear mine / They don't come cheap, but they fit just fine / You can be her and I can be him / We can both sink when the rest all swim / ... / We can pretend that our fates were entwined / A beautiful lie is the beautiful kind / Everybody knows that the sun still sets / And everybody gives and everybody gets / ... / I could be the one that you just can't shake / Till you swear that your eyes go blind / We can disappear till the sun burns a hole / In the life that we left behind

Sweet Painted Lady — Elton John

I'm back on dry land once again / Opportunity awaits me like a rat in the drain / We're all hunting honey with money to burn / Just a short time to show you the tricks that we've learned / If the boys all behave themselves here / Well, there's pretty young ladies and beer in the rear / ... / Forget us we'll have gone very soon / Just forget we ever slept in your rooms / And we'll leave the smell of the sea in your beds / Where love's just a job and nothing is said

Super Trouper — ABBA

Super trouper beams are gonna blind me / But I won't feel blue / Like I always do / 'Cause somewhere in the crowd there's you / ... / So I'll be there when you arrive / The sight of you will prove to me I'm still alive / And when you take me in your arms / And hold me tight / I know it's gonna mean so much tonight

Babooshka — Kate Bush

She sent him scented letters / And he received them with a strange delight / Just like / His wife / But how she was before the tears / And how she was before the years flew by / And how she was when she was beautiful / She signed the letter / All yours...

Paris is Burning — St. Vincent

I write to give word the war is over / Send my cinders home to mother / They gave me a medal for my valor / Leaden trumpets spit the soot of power / They say, "I'm on your side / "When nobody is, 'cause nobody is / "Come sit right here and sleep / "While I slip poison in your ear" / We are waiting on a telegram / To give us news of the fall / I am sorry to report / Dear Paris is burning after all

Dream of Sheep — Kate Bush

Oh I'll wake up to any sound of engines / Every gull a seeking craft / I can't keep my eyes open / Wish I had my radio / I'd tune into some friendly voices / Talking 'bout stupid things / I can't be left to my imagination / Let me be weak, let me sleep and dream of sheep / Ooh, their breath is warm / And they smell like sleep / And they say they take me home / Like poppies, heavy with seed / They take me deeper and deeper

Hunger — Florence + The Machine

At seventeen, I started to starve myself / I thought that love was a kind of emptiness / And at least I understood then, the hunger I felt / And I didn't have to call it loneliness / ... / Tell me what you need, oh, you look so free / The way you use your body, baby, come on and work it for me / Don't let it get you down, you're the best thing I've seen / We never found the answer but we knew one thing / ... / And it's Friday night and it's kicking in / In that pink dress, they're gonna crucify me / Oh, and you in all your vibrant youth / How could anything bad ever happen to you? / You make a fool of death with your beauty, and for a moment / I forget to worry

#Spotify #fanmix #gay #fanwork #playlist #i have a crippling addiction to making playlists #james fitzjames #fitzier #francis crozier #francis rawdon moira crozier #Jim fitzjimmy #james fitzjames + gender = ? we dont know her #spotify playlist

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starstress · 4 years ago

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MCC Aqua Axolotls Live Commentary!

Hello, as said, I will attempt to write down my thoughts and reactions during the MCC.

Stream links!!

False: https://www.twitch.tv/falsesymmetry

Ren: https://www.twitch.tv/rendogtv

Grian (yes, he’s streaming): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YjkgnEi4t9g

Pearl: https://www.twitch.tv/pearlescentmoon

Updates will come as edits, so be sure to check this again every once in a while if you’re interested or just curious!

To all fans, please be kind to everyone, no matter the team or who you wish would win. You will only embarrass yourself if you harass others or act immaturely and will gain no brownie points with those you follow and watch.

For now, may the games begin and the best team win!

Edit 1: Peeps are running a bit late, apparently, Ren is the only one on the team with no aqua colour XD Grian recoloured the headband that Smajor had made for him last stream XD

Andddd, we’re kicking off!!

Edit 2: The gong makes an appearance!! Also, the story of the gong!! Grian had bought it as a gag for whenever he and Mumbo record! The team loves it!

Countdown has finally started!

Edit 3: The first game is Skyblockle(?)!! Team ain’t feeling too confident about it, but we’ll see! I think they’ll be okay at this. Gri is reading the instructions and getting nervous XD

From now, everything will be under the cut. Warning, it’s really long.

Oof, wood fell in the lava. They still have more :)) They’re sharing tasks pretty nicely, I have to say, but they keep changing plans. Things will heat up quickly, tho, and I’m glad this game is gonna be out of the way soon.

First death in Skyblockle for the Aqua Axolotls: False! Second: Grian!

Doom is on the horizon XD

Rip, Ren has died too, and Pearl has gotten a couple of kills!!

And the Axolotls are out!

First gong after a game. Rn we’re all watching the other teams. Dream team is holding up well. Techno’s team is out too. Last bid!

Endgame: Pearl has won the most coins, team is a bit disappointing by last place.

Edit 4: They have the Uno Reserve card as they were the worst team.

Game: Bingo but Fast!

Gri is reading the instructions again. Someone in Pearl’s stream is watching 25 streams holy dandelions.

The team is again sharing tasks. This is pretty speedy!

Hearing Gri lament how speedy it all is is so funny. Also, they’re all like headless chickens and a lot more disorganized now. Poor team.

Endgame: Ren’s sweating in unspeakable places lol, but they’re not last anymore!

Pearl’s game just crashed, oh goodness.She’s back in, wooo!

Edit 5: Game: Battle box!

Gri is going for the middle. Pearl got so many kills!

First round won!!

Second round lost!

Third round won!!

Ren’s having a hard time breathing, and I gotta say same! 4th place rn.

Game was paused to stop the animations of the NPCs and we got another gong! we chilling for a few mins lol.

WE’RE ON AGAINST THE DREAM TEAM. Aww, the game needs to be reset or smt.

Oh wow, draw for every team. Fourth round was skipped.

Fifth round - uh SERVER CRASHED

Wowie, the map looks really strange without the resource pack.

First hiccup in 7 event, dang.

Starting again. Resource pack might no re-appear again. And now I’m laggy, lol

Round 1: lost!

Round 2: won! Gri with the tnt :D

Round 3: lost! tnt did not work this time

Round 4: unknown due to lag, oof.

Round 5: lost

Round 6: unknown

Round 7: unknown

Round 8: unknown

Round 9: unknown (prob lost)

Place: Last.

Everyone’s laggy, including me lol.

The viewers are being encouraging, which is really great and wholesome!

Edit 6: Game: Big Sales at Build Market!

Team is confident about this one, wooo!!

Grian ended up in plants lol. Ughhh, diorate. Communication is key, and it’s very well done!!

They’re building fast and getting resources pretty fast, that’s good.

Grian listing what they need is *chef kiss* False being alert is *hearteyes* and the chats are the real mvps

Endgame: Place 7. It was pretty intense indeed.

Break time!

Edit 7: Audience takeover!! Pearl wants Rocket Spleef, so does Techno. Dream wants Hole in the Wall.

Game: Rocket Spleef!!

Grian’s reading instructions :)))

This will be intense as all heck. Countdown has stopped, huh.

Oof, apparently it was supposed to be Hole in the Wall, but can’t change. Gri’s prob not gonna have as great of a time as I’d hopped :P

Round 1: Rainbow map, False is out! :o The very first time! Team’s out right before tnt time! Place 6, nice.

Round 2: Uhh, Atoms map?? Grian and Pearl are struggling. Pearl’s out! Gri’s out! Ren’s out! False’s still going.

Round 3: Grian’s finally got the rocket jump. Jump and then launch :D Or maybe not XD Tnt time! Pearl is waiting down at the bottom. She fell, oof. Grian’s having cramps in his hand and, in his words, he’s ‘a goner.’

Endgame: False’s the master of Rocket Spleef! And place 6! Team really enjoyed it, I’m so glad :D

Edit 8: Team’s hoping for Ace Race, and it looks like it might be!

Game: Ace Race!

Grian is narrating for all of us, nice! “This is totally Sonic!” he says!

“’Your first time will probably suck’. Yeah, that’s been happening about the entire time!” lmao

Omg, the map is so cool!! Def a fan favourite!! The entire team is having so much fun yesss

All of them are really doing good, Grian and False are placing good.

“Techno, get outta my way!!” - Gri, and I have to say, mood.

Grian got place 15! Right behind Techno, nice!!

Pearl is 32!

Ren is 35?

False is somewhere behind Gri, but way before Pearl.

Endgame: Everyone had one heck of a time and now they’re trying to find out how to make it in Vanilla Minecraft XD

Place: 9

Edit 9: They dunked the Lime Llamas XDD

Game: Sands of Time

Oof, this one’s gonna be a maker or a breaker.

Oh goodness, they have no one watching the time D:

They’re banking coins, thankfully.

Oh no, Pearl!! Sand is needed. Grian to the rescue!

Phew, three sand left, thank you Pearl for topping up!!

Intense, gosh, i’m really nervous about the sand!!

Oof, Pearl’s stream froze. It ended, oh no. Actually, it might just be me that has enormous lag (not smt new lol).

There we go, slow but it’s something.

The sand!! Aww man, right as Pearl got the sand!! They’re out! At least they banked a lot of their coins.

Endgame: We got a nice gong. Place: 5! Overall place: 9!

Edit 10: My wi-fi is beating me up with a stick, and it’s unrelenting. Lag is my life now.

Last game: Hole in the Wall

Ren’s gonna have a bad time XD

Round 1: Pearl’s fallen, from what my laggy video will show me. Gri as well. They’re out!

Round 2: Pearl’s still alive, woo!! Glitched right through one, so cool XD

Round 3: lag.

Endgame: Ren’s raging, Grian is really amused by that XD Nice game!!

Edit 11:

Overall place: 9

Time for the final battle!! Gong! Ren wants the gong as stream sound effect :D

Green Guardians vs Orange Ocelots!

Grian supports Techno bc Techno said he liked him lmao!! The others are Green.

Also fun fact: Grian could coach a match of dodge ball!

Round 1: Green wins!

Round 2: Orange wins!! Techno’s taking them out!

Round 3: Orange wins!

Round 4: Orange wins!

Grian: “It’s like one of those anime moments!”

Round 5: Green wins!

(Gri went off holy heck)

Congrats to the Green Guardians!!

Last edit of the night!

That was extremely fun to watch!! The lag and my own wi-fi made it a bit irritating at times, esp since I had to split my focus, but it was pretty good nonetheless.

It’s really sad that the Championship itself lagged so much, I have a feeling it left both a lot of viewers and players feeling frustrated as well.

However, the new mini game was lots of fun and I have a feeling we’ll be seeing it a lot in the future. I really hope we will.

The team was really good, they managed to coordinate very well, but like many groups who’ve just started working together for the first time, there were times where they could’ve slowed down a bit and reconsidered their plans. Still, the important bit was that they all had a great time together.

Overall, I really hope Grian and Pearl will participate again, even if not on the same teams. I also hope that there will be more Hermitcraft members joining in, even if only for one Championship. I had tons of fun writing this as well, but I think I’ll switch back to occasional posts about amusing things that happen during the games, as it really took a lot of my attention from the mcc itself.

Hope whoever kept up with me or reads this later enjoyed/enjoys this. I’m off to bed now, I’m sleepy and I’ll prob wake up, read through this, and find 10 million little mistakes that I’ll die over. Future me, I deeply apologize, but, uhhhh, no regrets!!

Starstress out!

#minecraft championship #mcc #hermitcraft #hermitblr #falsesymmetry #rendog #grian #pearlescentmoon #technoblade #dreamwastaken #dream team #mine #mcyt #mcytblr

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the-coconut-asado · 4 years ago

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A Bit Like Julie Andrews

A loathsome guest at a dinner party I once attended announced you can make anything taste good with fat. She said this as I was serving up a chocolate pecan tart promised to the host, and my first instinct was to divert it into her face. I didn’t of course, because violence and whip-smart retorts only ever live in my head. Later on, she invited me into the bathroom to see her new labia piercing. So, mixed messages.

That said, she had a point about fat. I’ve been writing this blog for eight years now and the most shared and liked recipes have lashings of fat and/or sugar in common. No surprises here - as we all aspire to cleaner, increasingly plant based virtue-signalling, how many of us are squirrelling away six pineapple Jaffa Cakes when we think no-one’s looking? Right this minute I am staring longingly across the coffee table at a box of Divine Mint Thins while a sweet potato bakes in the oven. And the rate at which we get through sea salt butter in our house (yep, the one with the extra crunchy salt crystals) is not something I am ever going to admit to my GP.

But if you all want fat and sugar, then I am here to please. Not necessarily with animal fat, and not always with proper sugar. One of the most versatile oils in my kitchen is coconut, sunflower oil always produces moist and springy sponge cakes and I could almost drink extra virgin olive. And I sometimes supplement no-carb Splenda for sugar in some recipes with zero difference noticed. None of this interferes with the popularity of the finished dish, sometimes it even enhances it - and I am often asked for recipes for dishes I photograph with abandon but haven’t got around to writing up.

So what follows then is only a bit like Julie Andrews: rather than a selection of my favourite things, it’s a revisiting of some of yours - a Top 4 of those recipes most often requested or dishes shared, fats or sugar included, with a couple of twists thrown in.

Perfect Roast Pork Belly

For my money the supreme leader of pork joints is belly - roasted long and slow until those layers of fat melt and the hide turns to the guiltiest pleasure of all: cracking. I used to subscribe to the belief that anything this good was proportionately difficult to achieve - but after many years and attempts, I have found a way as fool-proof and leave-it-alone succulent as you can get.

My advice is to serve this with creamed corn - fresh corn shucked and simmered in a little butter and cream. Pork and corn are a less-travelled match made in heaven. Cowboys kind of got the hang of it but were seduced into flatulence by the baked bean before the corn craze could really take off. But what the wild west discarded, the barbecue warriors picked up. OK I’m taking The Crown approach to history but you get the picture. Serves 4-6.

Ingredients

One 2 kg pork belly joint, bone in ideally but not necessary( get your butcher to score the rind)

1 tbsp. each fennel seeds and cumin seeds

1 tbsp, chilli flakes

2 tbsp. Kosher salt

2 onions, cut into wedges

2 carrots cut into chunks

1 leek cut into chunks

200ml sherry or white wine

100ml water

For the creamed corn:

3 fresh ears of corn

50g butter

150ml double cream

Kosher Salt and freshly ground black pepper

How to make.

The night before you aim to roast the pork, get rid of any covering, pat the skin dry, pop it onto a dish and put in the fridge. This will dry out the skin and ultimately product better crackling.

Heat the oven to 220C (or 210C Fan) and take your belly out of the fridge at least 30 mins before roasting. Pulverise the fennel seeds, cumin seeds, salt and a and chilli flakes in a pestle and mortar. Rub the mix into the scores in the pork rind, then pop into the oven for 25 mins to get the crackling going.

After 25 mins,remove from the oven and transfer the pork onto a board and reduce the oven to 180C or 175C fan. Working quickly, toss the onions, carrots and leek into the roasting pan and then put the belly joint on top. Pour the sherry or white wine into the roasting pan around, not on, the pork. Return the pork to the oven and roast for two and a half - 3 hours.

Check the pork at 2 and a half hours - if you can wiggle the rib bone easily, great, if not, return to the oven for another 30 mins. Remove from the oven again and transfer the roast veg to a bowl and keep warm. Crank the oven back up to 220C and return the joint one last time to crisp up the crackling.

Remove from the oven and leave to rest for 20 mins before carving

Dutch pancake with caramel apples

Leave It Alone is the best mantra for an easy life in the kitchen. Some dishes were made to be fussed over - risotto, caramel and of course pancakes. But a dutch pancake gives you both time to yourself and a whomping great wow factor when you bring it out of the oven. Thanks to Erin Jeanne McDowell at the New York Times for this little number. (Serves 3-4)

Ingredients

(100 g) plain flour

3 Tbsp. dark muscovado sugar

½ tsp salt

½ tsp cinnamon

½ tsp kosher salt

Pinch ground nutmeg

50g unsalted butter

3 eggs

100ml cashew nut milk (or milk of your choice)

1 tsp vanilla extract

For the caramel apples:

40g butter

75 ml double cream

110g dark muscovado sugar

3-4 apples (granny smiths are good)

Juice of 1 lemon

1 tsp vanilla essence

Pinch of ground cinnamon

How to make

Heat the oven to 200C fan (210C). Put the butter in a frying pan or skillet that you can use on the hob and in the oven. When the oven is hot, pop the skillet in to melt the butter.

Mix all the dry ingredients together. Break up the eggs with the milk and vanilla essence then add to the dry ingredients and mix until smooth.

Peel and core the apples then cut into thin slices and toss in the lemon juice.

Take the skillet out of the oven (the butter should have melte by now) and pour in the pancake batter. Put back in the oven and set your timer for 20 minutes.

While the pancake is doing its thing, make the caramel apples. Melt the butter in a saucepan then add the sugar and cream and mix again. Add the apples, stir to coat the apples in the caramel mix, then simmer gently for 5 minutes until the apples soften. Take the pan off the heat and stir in the vanilla essence and cinnamon.

After 20 minutes, and using protective gloves or oven mitts, remove the skillet from the oven. The pancakes should be all puffed around the edges like a dramatic Yorkshire pudding.

Pour the caramel apples into the centre, bring to the table and drizzle with double cream while everyone round the table gasps. DO NOT FORGET that the handle is hot so use your oven mitts while handling at the table.

Stuffed Courgette flowers

This is a romantic dish for me as it reminds me of my first trip to Rome. At the same time it’s tempura on steroids. Cook the whole (usually tiny) courgette with the flowers attached - it may not look as pretty but there is more flavour and nutrition (always handy when you are taking a bath in carbs). Like the Dutch pancake, this dish gives good gasp when it arrives on the table. (Serves 4).

Ingredients

8 courgettes with flowers attached

250g ricotta cheese, soft goat’s cheese or goat’s curd

6 anchovies, finely chopped

1 tbsp each finely chopped mint and parsley

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

For the batter:

70g cornflour

30g plain flour

80ml ice-cold sparkling water or lager

400ml sunflower oil for frying

How to make:

Mix the cheese, anchovies, herbs and seasoning in a bowl.

Taking each courgette, gently splay the petals of the flower and remove the stamens with a small knife. Using a teaspoon, stuff each flower with the filling then twist the tips of the petals to seal.

In another bowl mix the batter ingredients and leave to stand for 5 minutes.

Heat the oil in a deep pan or flat-bottomed wok. Line a serving dish with kitchen paper. Once the oil is hot, take each courgette in turn, dip it in the batter (courgette and flower) and then carefully lay it in the oil and deep fry for a couple of minutes, until the batter turns golden and crisp. Try not to crowd the pan, you can probably fry three at a time. Remove each courgette and flower from the oil and onto the paper lined dish. When all the courgettes have been cooked, remove the kitchen paper and serve while hot, with some quick pickled red onion slices on the side.

Sweet potato Gnocchi with pesto

Anything a potato can do, a sweet potato can do as well if not better. Plus it’s packed with antioxidants (not red for nothing) and lower in the demon carbs. When in Buenos Aires, gnocchi is traditionally eaten on a Thursday (a ritual they share with Rome) and it’s my niece Luli’s favourite dish. Wonder what she will think of this version? The gnocchi is based on a recipe by Jonny Rhodes (Serves 4)

Ingredients

1 large sweet potato

1 cup plain flour

½ cup wholemeal flour

1 tsp. Ground cumin

½ tsp cinnamon

¼ tsp allspice

½ tsp kosher salt

1 egg

50g butter

2 tsp apple cider vinegar

For the pesto:

1 large bunch basil

1 tbsp, pinenuts

2 fat cloves garlic

25g grated parmesan

½ cup - ¾ cup extra virgin olive oil

How to make.

Heat the oven to 190C fan and roast the sweet potato for 1-11/4 hours (the potato should be soft inside and give when you insert a knife). Cool, skin and mash.

In a bowl, mix the flours, potato mash, spices, salt and egg. Roll into a ball then cover with cling film and pop into the fridge for an hour to firm up.

After an hour, remove from the fridge and cut into six portions. Dust your work surface with flour then taking each portion in turn, roll into a long sausage and cut 18-20 portions. You can either leave the portions like this or roll each portion over a gnocchi paddle to give it ridges, then place on an floured baking sheet. Repeat with each portion, then cover all the gnocchi and refrigerate until ready to cook.

Bring a pan of salted water to the boil, working in small batches, add the gnocchi to the pan and continue to boil. As the gnocchi float to the surface, remove with a slotted spoon and transfer to a greased baking sheet.

Make your pesto, put all ingredients except the olive oil into the food processor and pulse until chopped small. Keep the motor running and gradually add the olive oil until the mixture thickens. Turn off the motor and leave to one side while you saute the gnocchi.

Heat a large frying pan and add the butter. when melted and sizzling add the gnocchi in a single layer and cook undisturbed for 2 or 3 minutes, until the bottoms are light brown (you may need to do this in batches). Then add 2 tbsp butter, 3 tbsp water and the apple cider vinegar and swirl around the gnocchi.

Serve immediately in pasta bowls and drizzle the pesto over the top. Grate over some parmesan.

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namjoonchronicles · 6 years ago

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genius lab | yg

↳ pairing yoongi x you

↳ words 4k

↳ author’s note happy birthday to my fellow 93 liner, Yoongi. May we find a clue on what we’re doing in life. But hey, at least your life is better than mine, right? --i personally think that yoongi is very talkative to people he is most comfortable with. so that’s how i depicted him. i’m sick of people saying he’s cold and unaffectionate, it really is all or nothing for yoongi ok.

↳ 3/3 ‘take your wife to work’ fic

↳ genre husband!yoongi, domestic au, fluff

↳ song sleeping at last ‘two’

“Babe, so skydiving right...?” “Yup.” “Which one thrills you most: the fall or the fact that you’re in the sky?”

Yoongi walks around, fastening the cufflinks of his dress shirt while you were tiptoeing against the bathroom sink, your bottom bouncing as you try to get a better look in the mirror.

“I don’t know how I’m going to get there on time, so the initial plan is I fetch you from the mall and then we go straight to wedding hall right?” Yoongi is now switching on the left side of his cuff which he had no trouble fastening. Now he is pacing to the far right of the bedroom, next to the unmade bed to fetch his Gold Rolex.

“That’s the plan…” you swing your head back so your chin could be closer to the mirror when you can see. Unamused with the lack of response thereof, Yoongi marches to the opened bathroom door to see you are now sitting on the bathroom counter, trying to pinch something on your chin.

“What on earth are you doing?” he leans on the door frame. You dangle your head to the side where he is, mulling, “What people with pimples do in the morning, because not everyone is blessed with clear skin…”

For emphasis, you eyed him up and down before resuming your task. Yoongi was about to leave you alone if your answers weren’t that annoying, but it was, so he grabbed you by the chin, making you lean your head on his chest while you struggle to break free of his head lock.

“You will not touch that pimple,” Yoongi hissed while trying to put an anti-bacterial lotion on the said boil. “I want to,” you spat back.

Yoongi lets you go and helped you down from the counter.

“It hurts…” you mewled. “Yeah, it wouldn’t if you didn’t poke it,” Yoongi passed, putting the ointment back.

His black slacks are hugging his bums quite attractively now that you have the time to pay attention to it. He was checking his phone, with one hand on his hip while you put on your black bra and undies before strolling across the room like nothing is wrong.

“I got an update from the event chatroom,” Yoongi pauses and reads the text out loud so you could hear them, he follows you closely outside where the living room was, “Please refrain from bringing outside food as we have food prepared for the performers and early guests in the cafeteria right below the hall. Remember to bring your tags for identification.”

Next, the kitchen. You pour yourself a drink nodding mindlessly, still wearing just bra and undies, “No take out then, shame… I was really craving for some spicy braised chicken,” you swirled the coffee mug around and took a sip, “Maybe we could, a few hours before we leave.”

“No, no, we won’t make it on time if we did,” Yoongi shook his head, eyes glued to his phone. “We won’t, but I will. Me, alone,” you corrected him, leaning against the kitchen counter, gazing lovingly into your mug of black coffee, your go-to morning breakfast. Staggered by your response to have good food without him, he peeled his eyes from his phone almost immediately. “I will not allow such a thing!” he thundered, before his eyes falls to the valleys of your breast, thighs and bare torso, “Where are your clothes?!”

“Took you long enough,” you arched an eyebrow before passing him the very mug you were drinking from. There’s still some liquid in them and Yoongi downed them at once. His eyes follows you down to the living room where the couch was. “I figured that if I’m not going to see my husband all May and the beginning of June, I might as well leave him with some…” you smacked your lips together, resuming, “penetrative memory, so to speak,” you pointed the remote to the television and it played the playlist.

Yoongi froze. He is also blinking rapidly, stammering, “p-p-pene-penetrative memory?” You moved passed his shoulder and glided your hand down the length of his forearm, executing as little pressure as you can so he could barely feel you there, “of what he is missing when he is away…”

He could hear you smile and with a loud smack on his butt coming from your palm, he knows today is going to be slightly difficult to go through and by difficult, he meant hard. And he also knows that you probably had stood there watching it jiggle, because you’re a demon he had gotten married to.

“I was kidding,” you hummed, throwing your head back while getting dressed in an emerald green knee length dress, after you saw blood draining down his face and possibly pooling somewhere else that might delay today’s plan, “You look like you’re about to faint… I’m not going to do that, especially having to go to your studio first, before the mall and then, attending the wedding.”

Bittersweet. He would like the tease, to be honest. And what do you mean by going to his studio first? “You honestly think you can go AWOL without your office calling you to be in your studio at least once, today? They’re calling you right now,” you tipped your eyes to his phone and it vibrated.

Yoongi clenched his eyes shut but after he threw an acid glance at your smiling face.

He threw a throw pillow at you and left the room to be in his home studio. You weren’t very much interested into having musical discussion today, but if Yoongi needs to go then you’ll understand. You’ve had musical discussions all night. To pry a dedicated man is a difficult task, so you have a reminder set on his phone, as: love wifey time. Which go off at least five times a day; a number you both had agreed on, prior to the initiation.

Yoongi left the door gaping open, which led you to sit on the chair he has inside and begin reading a magazine he was featured in. One particular paragraph in that article reads,

How do you balance private life from your professional one?

Yoongi’s responds were, alas, extremely straightforward, no sugar coating whatsoever.

“Very badly. I define private life as home, wife, family, Holly, etc. And I feel like a married life is so much different from how I was still single. I have more commitments now, more people I need to take care of. I still feel like I’m in that transition? I know my wife had been secluding herself in terms of making more space for my work and she sacrifices a lot in order for me to continue doing this (music). If you think that I’m balancing the two flips of my life good, I have to thank my wife for that, truly. She’s my anchor, my rope, my stone.”

He is quite a talker. He is sitting in his chair, swiveling around with the phone on his ear, his veiny hand scratching the back of his neck--the conversation too complex for you to make sense of. His head is bobbing in agreement to what the caller had to say. It must have been one of those expenses thing again. Yoongi is in charge of making decisions to how a track should be and even if he takes literally 5 seconds to decide those; he takes an eternity to decide if you look good in a dress or a blouse. Music is all he is good at. It’s both a curse and a blessing.

“Listen, Jungkook,” he begins, spinning around in his chair so he faces you, “I don’t think we can do this through the phone. I have a packed day today, but I can squeeze some time somewhere before noon, what do you say babe?” Yoongi asked, with a slight drawl.

“Sure,” you shrugged and gave him a lopsided smile. “I’ll see you before noon, Jungkook…” Yoongi ended the call.

You stood up to reveal that your dress weren’t zipped all the way yet. Gathering all your hair to one side, you gave Yoongi your backside and he proceeds to trail kisses up your spine as he zips them up.

“With one look on that dress, I could tell we won’t be at that wedding for long,” he whispers hotly against the shell of your ear. You faced him with a cunning smile, and batted your eyelash at your handsome husband, circling your arm around his neck. “Oh really, says who?” you arched one eyebrow at him, just to tease him further. “Mr. Min Yoongi, Grammy winner,” he clicked his tongue.

The day is sunny, there were not much vehicles around. A very slow Saturday for everyone. Yoongi is driving and you’re on the phone with the bride who is currently panicking.

“Look, when I got married to Yoongi, I, too, wasn’t sure that I was marrying the right guy. He is never home, he is heavily invested on musical equipments instead of home appliances, and he hogs the blanket. And then I got married to him, and he still is never home, buys 25 pianos and hogs the blanket. Truth is darling, marriage aren’t going to change nobody, change is going to happen when the individual allows it…”

Yoongi frowned at the view ahead but 100% listening to everything you said. Which 75% lies and chances are, the bride knows that. You go to great lengths to make people smile, even if it means grilling lies about your husband. They know how responsible he is, that itself didn’t need exhibition although you’re pretty much an exhibitionist yourself.

“Don’t worry, Yoongi is going to be there as your pianist, he pinky promised me. So he is coming. He was reading the event chatroom before he leaves and I honestly want to tell you, hun, everything is fine. All you need to do is breathe, look pretty and put trust in your future hubby. You’ve gone through so much for this to happen, you’re halfway there already…okay? Okay, I’m going to see you in a few more hours, and I don’t want these conversations of thinking you’re not good enough, because that is bullshit. You’re a great wife, I almost married you, if Yoongi didn’t snatch me first,” Yoongi poke your sides and you jolted but still maintaining the smile on your face as you bid farewell on the phone with your friend.

“She is low on sugar and everything is pissing her off,” you exhaled through your nose and Yoongi rubbed your knees with his right palm. You fetched that very hand and entwined your fingers with his. You switched your attention out the car window to see several motorcyclists passing through. “Isn’t it too late to be having wedding jitters?” Yoongi glanced at you once in a while, cruising comfortably through the city with few traffics.

“It is never too late to have wedding jitters… I know where she’s coming from and I’ve been there,” you raised both brows and added a little squeeze on his hand.

“I know weddings are scary… it’s huge, it carries so much weight and responsibilities. It’s two families merging into one, with a lot of expectations and goals to achieve…” Yoongi rambles.

“It’s to trust someone with your whole life, and to devote yourself into a household name, and you fear that you hadn’t been seeing the full layers of your lover, frightened that he might leave one, unrevealed. Marriage is like.. Like skydiving...without parachutes. You leap out of the ass of a moving plane, unsure if you’re going to land safely or not, but you just do it. It’s scary, at least to me, to her… we’re women, we have so many to live up for. And it sucks. That’s where the fear comes.”

You casted your eyes down to your lap, where his hand rested, you begin fiddling on his empty ring finger, playing with it, until he regains dominance over you and clasped them tight under his grasp.

“Some of us turn out lucky. Some, don’t,” you whispered. And he could feel that you were brought down to memory lane of your own unhappy home; the home you were raised in. There’s nothing else he could offer but an affirmation in his full presence. Even if it means, a small kiss on your knuckle.

♪...Like a force to be reckoned with A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss…♪

Jungkook’s studio has been raided with bags of food. A shrill call of his name pried him away from his computer. You walked in with a huge grin and Jungkook’s eyes turns into crescents.

“Hello you!” you cooed at the bunny as you set the food on his coffee table. Yoongi is following close by, carrying his own fairshare of bags. “I’m going to be right back after I send this off to the staffs,” Yoongi said but you rushed to his side, cutting your conversation with Jungkook short.

“I’ll do that, you help Jungkook,” you gather all the things from him and he held the door open for you. He watches you go down the hall and he reminded, “It’s the hall on the far left, next to the water dispenser…”

You made your way there easily. Most of them are gathering for burgers and you greeted everyone with a big smile.

“Only burgers?” you chimed and they started laughing and exclaiming once they saw what you brought them, “Yoongi wanted to get you food and I’m here to do the delivering… you look so thin since the last time I saw you, what happen, and what did I tell you about skipping meals!” You playfully scolded them. They’re all very young and they dedicate themselves into serving Yoongi and the rest of the producers. They are basically the machines in this company, and therefore, must be credited with their effort.

“Okay, you guys enjoy yourself… I’m going to go now, take care,” you patted one of the staffs shoulder, “Honestly, please...really take care of yourself, I’m worried.”

Using the passkey, you entered Yoongi’s studio with ease. He isn’t so big on cleaning up but hardly anything was out of place. The blankets for when he stays overnight are neatly folded, the bin is halfway filled, the humidifier is working, there’s some new additions in his studio family: new speakers, new keyboards, interesting.

The door beeps open to Yoongi walking in a slow stride.

“Why didn’t you turn the AC on?” he pointed the remote to the AC and took off his black blazer to sit on his chair. “Jungkook forgot that we were heading to a wedding so he asked me why I was dressed up, cheeky dude,” Yoongi commented, while leaning over the back of the PC to turn his PC on. “It wasn’t warm…” you shrugged and sat on his couch, taking off your heels and stretching your legs on his coffee table.

Yoongi promptly sit on the piano bench and uncovered the piano. Then suddenly, he begin dribbling a few note.

“You’re helping Jungkook compose?” you asked, resting your elbow on the arm rest, closer to where Yoongi was, placing your chin on the heel of your palm while you stare at him play. He has a beautiful side profile. It has always been his most charming point. The way his eyes falls to the keys, his cheeks full and round, his lashes make him look like a child. His veiny hands was a complete contrast of that baby face, and the melody he plays--as a veteran pianist; never fails to amaze you in ways you can never imagine.

“He couldn’t find the notes that would fit the beats…” he murmurs.

“So you’re memorising the beats that he made and playing a rhythm that would match, with a piano? By... heart?” you repeated. “Uhum,” he answered short, continue letting his fingers play an intricate piece. Something that sounded familiar from a long time ago, but you know for a fact that is nameless.

“You hadn’t done live composing in front of me since last year…” your tone falls soft and like a whisper. “I’m doing it right now, aren’t I?” Yoongi passed, “Listen, this to me, is your song.”

He started to play a short melody that reminds you of floating. A time passing, of sweet memories and the calming waters. And then he switches to a lower note and play something out of a horror movie, “This is when you’re angry…”

You giggled and shook your head, covering your eyes, “Glad to remind you of a haunted house…” “But mostly, you’re my…” Yoongi begins playing the ‘First Love’ notes of his older work. “I’m your living piano? Is that what I am?” you taunted him, moving from the chair to sit next to him on the bench, idling with a smile playing on your face. He avoided your eyes and smiled to himself and for that little moment, you knew what he meant.

That First Love was the embodiment of your beginning. There’s so many ups and downs before you both got to this point and at the end of the day, the feeling of belonging is beyond soothing. And in the chaotic life of Min Yoongi, lies a calming wave that was you. He was a wanderer in the forest of temptations and you were his salvation.

“I couldn’t possibly conclude how much you meant to me, but I like to think that this voyage that we are on, sails for as long as I live,” Yoongi hummed in thoughts. “I think we got it…” Yoongi shifted his gaze to the computer screen and emails them to Jungkook right away.

Yoongi moves and you stood up, before stumbling to your side. Then you heard a loud ripping sound. Both of you froze. Lowering your gaze to right thigh, you saw the threads come apart to reveal the strings of your black thong.

“Oh my…” Yoongi breathed. “Yoongi!” you screamed.

The deceptive cookie can with the picture of a smiling lady on them is mocking you. You’re laying on your stomach on Yoongi’s lap as he sew the threads back on. “I knew my sewing skills will be put to a good use one day. Never thought it would be today, of all days,” the thread was long enough for him to pull pass his shoulder, he pinched your butt when you wouldn’t stop wiggling. “Stop doing that…” “I can’t! My back hurts, and you’re taking too long… are you sewing or are you staring at my ass?” “How about both. What are you going to do about that?”

You pouted and cupped your chin, darting your attention to the smiling lady on the sewing container Yoongi had. You pinched your eyes at the view of it and let out an exhale.

“...I can’t even ask for the staff’s help even though they are far more experienced because somebody...won’t wear a normal panties…” his voice gradually grows louder. “I can march up to them despite your worries, Yoongi… and it’s a skin tight dress, I had to wear a thong or people will be taking notes on the shape of my butt,” you threw glances over your shoulder at your husband.

He is using his teeth to cut the extra thread unused, “Okay roll over, let me see how it looks.” You paused, and didn’t do what you were told. “What now?”

“You have a bulge…” you darted. “I know, so let me go to the bathroom and relief myself,” Yoongi sighed.

“You were sewing! What inappropriate thoughts were you having?!” you rolled over and he loosens his tie, angrily, “It was your ass wiggling in my face, and the conversations we had…”

You patted his clothed manhood and had him hissing out of frustrations; sexual and non-sexual. Walking backwards to see him, chanting, “dirty toilet, grimey walls and Valak from The Nun… dirty toilet, grimey walls, and Valak from The Nun…”

Sexologists say that thinking of disgusting items, or locations helps tame the boners down. So far it has worked with Yoongi, but today, he was struggling a bit, that you had to be driving to the mall.

“It is going down yet?” you asked. “I’m trying…” he groans when you purposely drive over a road bum in full speed, “It’s hard with your perfume dancing around my nostril.” “Let’s try stressing you out…” you hummed, tapping your cheek with you index finger pulling into a stop by the mall parking entrance, “How many tracks are you supposed to produce this week?”

Yoongi was shifting in his seat, clenching his eyes shut, “...5.”

“How many did you have done?” “Two…”

Really? Really…?

“You got to do better Min Yoongi, you have bills to pay this month,” you drove inside the parking lot, looking for parking. “Stress is going to help my boner down?” Yoongi is talking is harsh rasps now. That’s probably unintended, but now it’s turning you on.

“Well, usually… when you aren’t around and I’m horny beyond explanation, I usually plunge into self-implied depression? And it usually helps. If that’s not readily available, I could throw myself in a workload that wasn’t even real but my girlfriend down there gets fooled so...if it works, it’s not dumb. Look, we can’t fuck right now, because I’m in a hurry to get the door gifts from the mall, and you have to play piano in two hours in front of many many people so I suggest you get it together or I’d have to suck you, and I have a very expensive lipstick on,” you found a parking spot and hurried to unfasten your belt.

You intended a chaste kiss on your husband’s sweaty lips but he was out of it. He keeps moaning against your lips and holding your face in place.

“Honestly Yoongi!” You pulled away and struggle to hook your finger around the car door. “Please hurry…” Yoongi bit his lower lip as you slam the car door shut and sped to the mall entrance from the basement. Yoongi chants, “dirty toilet, grimey walls, and Valak from The Nun. Dirty toilet, grimey walls, and Valak from The Nun. Dirty toilet, grimey walls, and Valak from The Nun...fuck. Even Valak looks hot right now.”

“Yes I came for Mr. and Mrs. Jung? I was told that the extra door gifts are ready?” You chirped and the manager revealed the bags that you need to carry.

“Oh, I can do that,” you hummed to the sight of it. Within minutes, you were heading back down to Yoongi on the phone with somebody, two bags of gifts in your hand. You yank the back door open and shove the two bags of gift in before slamming it shut, so hard, the car rattled.

“Can you drive?” You didn’t care that he was on the phone, he nodded and put on the earpiece so he could continue talking.

It was pretty much empty when you came, but the groom was a little anxious. The door gifts are arranged and you rushed to get Yoongi on the piano where he should be. “You have mini rehearsals…” you hissed, and drag him by the elbow. He didn’t complaint and was completely obedient.

Yoongi went overboard with the music sheet of a simple Wedding March to making a complete Sonata until the emcee told him off. You were holding the bouquet to a frantic bride as she sat on the toilet cover with a long look. Listing her future husband’s antics;

“He picks his nose when we eat…” she sniffed, “It’s absolutely disgusting. How am I going to live like that for the rest of my life…”

You rolled your eyes to the ceiling, itching to get this wedding done and over with. Adulthood is difficult.

But as always, you’re expected to provide unpaid emotional support. Because, that’s what you’re good at. So good, that you considered charging everyone for it. Yoongi would purchase a lifetime subscription. That’s no question. And if he is listening to your thoughts right now, he’d probably want an added benefit as well. You’re good at telling people what they want to hear.

“All I hear is you are making up excuses to call off the wedding when you’ve dreamed of this to happen for so long… humans are not perfect and they come with flaws. And it’s up to you to make the flaws as beautiful as it can be, because as much as it is imperfect, it is yours. He is yours. Simply tell him to stop picking his nose if it bothers you so much, we’re past that zone in this relationship, now, aren’t we?”

Yoongi gradually feel the tension builds as the hall continues to fill up. Some recognise him as the Grammy award winning producer and some don’t. That’s no big deal. It wasn’t his day. It was theirs.

With a simple wave of your hand, Yoongi begins the Wedding March in a beautiful rendition he had composed himself less than hour ago. When you were younger, not yet married, you couldn’t understand why people would cry in weddings. Now that you’re older, and albeit, wiser, you understood how much weight was on the shoulders when such a union happens.

The bride looks stunning, with her hair up in a classic ballerina bun. Her veils giving the right amount of silhouette, just enough to make the invitees curious of how she looks if they hadn’t seen her in a while and holding the tails of her dress behind her, is you. Once she reached the altar, you joined Yoongi on the bench. Her husband took her hand in his, staring into her eyes, brimming with tears.

“We are gathered here today…”

It was a beautiful ceremony. Yoongi stood up before you again, and the event repeats itself; you stumble to the side to keep your stance and ripped your dress open. You clawed Yoongi’s arm with a horrified look, noticing that the people hadn’t fully leave the hall.

Yoongi took off his blazers and covered you from waist down. Both of you are scurrying to the car, the bride saw and although she was quite puzzled, she knew she’ll get an explanation from you later.

“I can’t wait to have that dress ripped off of you…” he grumbled and sped through traffic.

Once you get home, Yoongi tore off the entire dress in two forceful yanks, sending you yelping, face down on the bed.

“All May and beginning of June, you say?” Yoongi whispers hotly in your ear, nuzzling his face in your nape while he fumbles on the metal head of the belt he was wearing. “It’s the thong, isn’t it?” you rolled over to face him. You see his shy smile, and the way he was hiding his face by facing the side.

The post coital glow tonight was something else. You drew random shapes on Yoongi’s palm, talking in murmurs.

“Babe, so skydiving right...?” “Yup.” “Which one thrills you most: the fall or the fact that you’re in the sky?”

Yoongi hums. “The landing; knowing you would be there waiting for me.”

“You should be drinking more water…” he scolds, fiddling with his metal earrings as his jaws hung open to continue typing on the keyboard, fixing his lyrics.

“And give the bacteria an ideal environment to live in? I think not!” you retorted back at him. The response got him stop typing in the middle of a sentence.

The nonsense seep into his mind in an uninterrupted speed, which causes him to push his chair back so he could stand and turned the loudspeaker mode off. He pressed the phone to his ear and gnawed his lower lip as you rambled on how drinking water and eating food would increase nutrition intake in your body and allow the bacterial growth to flourish,

“–which would be the exact opposite of what you want me to do. Which is, getting well…”

Why did I marry her. Why the fuck did I marry her. Yoongi lets out a steady exhale to achieve peak nirvana–more like, attempted to. He grabbed his car key on the side stand and rushed out the door of his studio. “Now you listen to me…”

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flyonthewallmedstudent · 5 years ago

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1st weeks in... of pregnancy and working.

Week 5 - the other half is overjoyed - 2 pregnancy test later, I guess it’s happening. - he goes out to buy a 3rd anyway, comes back 5 mins later, all I can say is. have a look at the tests. “they’re still positive?” - we buy some pregnancy books. they warn that it will feel surreal the 1st trimester. - all this time, I was wondering I was feeling more tired at work and why I’m eating all the time.

Week 6. - much the same as week 5. Just tired and going to the toilet a lot, your metabolism kicks into overdrive, so do your kidneys. - I read about morning sickness, as I haven’t felt any yet I wonder if I’m in the ‘25% of women’ who don’t feel any effects of morning sickness. turns out it doesn’t start till week 8 - I start to talk to friends also in the medical field with young families. I’ve no idea how they do it. I’ve no idea how I’m going to do it. - me and the other half start looking at websites, the ones that tell you what to expect with each passing week. they also tell you what size your kid is in your growing uterus, ‘this week it’s the size of a blueberry’ etc. etc.

Week 7. - the other half starts driving me to work on his off days, he’s already in parental mode or nesting mode? - I start to get car sick, is this morning sickness? it’s not that bad. - we see a GP/family doc to get a referral to an OB. our usual one is away, this one we get at last minute has no idea what they’re doing and is super awkward. The entire time goes, and “you know what I mean don’t you”.... “no we don’t know what you mean.. write the frigging referral already so we can both escape” (in more courteous terms) then he jokingly goes you can name the baby after me, I have a great name. - he writes a very generic referral and goes, take it to any clinic you like, and a blood slip that is pretty bloody nonspecific. - I call a clinic close to work.. well pretty much at work and we’re in! 4 weeks to the first appointment. they send a shopping list of things to fax to them, past bloods and any USS, past pap smear reports, paperwork about yourself etc. - I have the option to choose to go private, I give a public a thought. But I need to be able to duck out of work to clinic on time and around my roster. More than that, medical students could end up at clinics or delivery, which is fine.. except that they could end up being my future residents. I don’t want images of my vag forever seared in their memory.

Week 8 - morning sickness is ridiculous. what was I thinking - I’m on the weekend for long shifts. it becomes a lesson in torture. - I start talking to other medical mum’s, now they tell me that you should definitely take days off when it’s bad. Regrets instantly for not taking a day off when bad morning sickness kicks in. - all you feel is fatigue, nausea and dizzy the entire day, lucky my interns are great. the boss thinks I’m an idiot, the other one thought I came off night shift as I simply look “terrible, are you okay??”. it’s like the flu or bad gastro without the diarrhoea. - it’s weird what alleviates it, i’m nauseated eating protein, but protein is the only thing that gives relief. - I realize half the time the nausea is the type you get when you’re sick and when you’re starving. - eventually I cave, after B6 pills fail, I’m cracking into anti-emetics after looking up some papers and guidelines. I can’t even sleep at night, having to get up to eat prepared boiled eggs. at one stage I sleep with one next to me. - tossing and turning so much, I end up sleeping sitting up on the couch so the other half can get some sleep to go to work. Week 9 - better than week 8, marginally. I end up taking a day off. I never take days off, but this is unbearable. - work is harder as my brain feels cloudy all the time, I feel like i’m not mentally there and am sleep walking through, which is bad, but again, thankfully good interns - the weird food cravings and aversions start. I need sugar all the time. I normally don’t. I crave ginger ale and mineral water, for all the bloating because my GIT slowed down so the parasite growing in me can suck up as much nutrients as possible - I start getting so grumpy from perpetual nausea and no sleep I start telling my other half how much I hate his guts everyday. - meanwhile he drives around at midnight to grab me a cheeseburger from whatever fast food drive through is open. - any smells make me nauseated, it’s a horrible mix. - any warm temperatures also make me nauseated and loud noises. - pregnancy is weird. Week 10.. I’m tired of blogging. TBA. - 1st OB appointment. and updating workforce and work. - more on this later, but most of the female consultants (or attendings) have already figured out I’m preggers. I’m a tiny person, and so I’m already showing.

Anyway, feel free to ask me anything about pregnancy and working. On the path of figuring out what work life balance will mean with a young family is absolutely terrifying. Whole new respect for anyone doing it or is doing it.

#medblrs #medblr #pregnancy

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minstrivia · 6 years ago

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; sangria | m.

— a/n: this is the first fic i released on this website. so like spare me.

— pairing: min yoongi x reader

— genre: smut, pwp, jealous!yoongi

— word count: 3k+

— warnings: dirty talk, creampie, exhibitionism (basically fucking on a beach), pet names, unprotected sex

— summary: a day at the beach has yoongi hornier than he’d like to admit.

Admittedly, Yoongi had bought the skimpy bikini set for Y/N to use in closed facilities, like their own pool, or their bedroom. Not in actual public where wandering eyes meet her figure continuously. He doesn't even know why he let her leave the house, he should have stood his ground and demanded she changed. But she has a way of talking, like promising to suck him off when they get back home. Yeah, the argument was pretty much over after that. But it didn't mean he was fine with it. He doesn't even know what possessed him to buy it. When he'd seen it the shops he knew it would look good on her, he'd imagined the way it would wrap around her curves deliciously, but even his imagination can't beat or compare to reality in the slightest.

She looks like pure, hot, sex. And he can't keep his eyes off. In fact, he hasn't. He's been observing her heatedly as she talks with a smile on her face to the bartender. He doesn't miss the way the boys' eyes linger below her face from time to time, and Yoongi knows exactly what he's thinking because he's thinking it too. Yet, she's oblivious to the whole ordeal. Her eyes crinkle as she laughs at something he's said and Yoongi has half the mind to stomp over there and drag her away.

But before he's even pushed himself off the ground she's strolling back towards him, two glasses in hand and his anger simmers momentarily as he admires his fiancée.

Yoongi’s always admiring her. The way her engagement ring glints in the sunlight to remind him, they're forever. The way her legs go on for miles and if he squints hard enough, he can almost make out the purple bruise on her inner thigh. And the way she fits him, so snug and right on his body, like she was made just for him.

“What were you talking about?” He asks, subtly jerking his head in the direction of the bartender that's still sneaking glances at her.

Y/N takes a seat between his outstretched legs, crossing her own Indian style. Her brows furrow and she glances up at him whilst trying to steady the glasses on the book she brought.

“Jason?”

He frowns glaring at her accusingly. Yoongi knows Y/N, she's a flirt, plain and true, entirely out of habit though. Most times she doesn't even mean it or realises she's doing it. But she'll do it, and it always succeeds to piss him off.

“First name terms already?”

Y/N shrugs not really understanding the bitter tone in his voice. She hasn't done anything yet so she won't let him spoil her day like he'd tried to this morning. “He asked if he could get my number—”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. How was she so nonchalant about this? “Oh—he did, did he.”

“Yeah—” She says, a teasing smile accompanying. He's definitely jealous. “—had to tell him I didn't think my fiancé would be too understanding.”

Yoongi grins planting a kiss on her lips that leaves her breathless. That's his girl.

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Anyway, he gave me free sangrias and told me to tell you that you are a very lucky guy.”

He is lucky. Very lucky indeed. He doesn't know where or what he'd be doing if she hadn't given him another chance. All he knows is, he'll never stop loving her. And well, that wouldn't have been good for him without her.

“Hm, I am aren't I?” He encloses his arms around her waist pulling her set against his chest. “Justin's a very smart guy.”

Y/N slaps his arm holding back her smile. “Jason,” She corrects knowing full well he hadn't forgotten but instead insisted on acting like a jealous bastard.

He doesn't care. He shifts her hair to one side and brushes his lips over her shoulders. She smells enticing. A concoction of apples, almonds and him. He can definitely smell himself on her.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look today?” He asks, not really expecting an answer.

She giggles. He always makes her feel like a giddy high school girl again. “Really, you think so?” She doesn't.

He hums.

She leans back into him and her eyes flutter close. The sound of waves rippling, laughs and chatter fill her ears and her lips stretch up.

“You know what I just realised?” She pops an eye open to check if he's listening. He is. “I haven't been to the beach in like—” She holds up her freshly painted white nails. “—2 years.”

Yoongi grimaces. It's not like she didn't want to go to, well to some extent she didn't, she's not the biggest fan of the place. Y/N hates the way the sand sticks to her body, amongst other things. But mostly, she just hasn't felt as body confident as she used to since she had Hye.

“It's been that long?”

“Yeah—” She chuckles nervously feeling as self-conscious as ever. These girls on the beach are young, skinny and single. She wouldn't be surprised if Yoongi found someone else more up to speed to go with. “I'm so old compared to all the girls here.”

“I hardly believe 23 is old. If you’re old then 25 must be ancient.”

She laughs. “Yoongi, you’re a grandpa you don’t count.”

He squeezes her tightly with a scowl.

But the point still stands, ever since she gave birth to Hye, her body changed. For one, her breasts are bigger than they used to be which she guesses is positive because Yoongi claims he likes it a lot.

However, the stretch marks, no matter what Yoongi says, she doesn't like. Sure, they're faint because she'd been avidly using Aloe Vera on them like Google had told her too. But they're still there if you look properly. And she hates it.

Yoongi strokes her stomach, thumb painting his name in ghost ink. He can practically hear her think and it isn't hard to discern what she's thinking. Sure, the girls are pretty but they're also bland. They're not his Y/N.

So, he decides it's the best time to tell her what's been running in his mind for far too long.

“You know, I would really like to fuck you right now.”

Y/N releases a slow breath. She's expected this from him, ever since he almost cancelled the day trip when he saw what she was wearing. She's been waiting for him to speak his intentions, but she hasn't come here for this.

“No way.” She sits up and turns to face him with the sternest face she can muster. Yoongi thinks she looks adorable.

“Can you see how pale I am? I need to tan.”

He splays his hand on her thigh and grabs firmly.

“Well, I don't think you need to.” He murmurs, tracing the magenta bruise he'd left on her the other night and she shivers visibly. He catches her earlobe between his teeth. “Plus, I like the way my marks show up on your skin.”

Y/N shakes her head, shuffling off of his lap swiftly and turning on the towel to lay on her stomach before he can manipulate her with his words like he's done many times before.

“Yeah...well, I want to tan.”

She releases the clasp of her bikini bra and he groans at the way her breasts spill out invitingly. The bra itself is only held by a flimsy knot around her neck. If he just tugs it with his finger it'd be off. Which isn't putting him at any ease.

“You can tan later.”

In Yoongi’s head, if she really wants him not to touch her, then she's not presenting her case very well. And having her rounded ass in his face isn't helping his growing hard-on either. Mainly because he remembers the way he pounded into her from behind last night as she ground against him, crying for more.

He rearranges his shorts awkwardly. He needs to fuck her. And he's going to.

He rests on his side facing her.

“Baby, look,” He starts, trailing a finger languidly down her spine. “You can sit on my lap. I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side—”

Her breath hitches and he smirks, he's almost got her. “—and no one will notice.”

It does sound tempting. In fact, if he had caught her at another time, she would already be on his lap. But now, she really does just want a day to relax and tan without having sex. So, Y/N ignores him.

“What d'you think Hye’s doing with your parents?”

Yoongi grumbles and lies back on the towel. Is she being serious?

“I don't really want to think about our sons' whereabouts when I have a very fucking painful boner.”

Y/N glances at his shorts. He's shifting around uncomfortably and it does look painful. She almost feels bad. She huffs, her resolve weakening by the minute as she thinks about having him buried to the hilt inside her as he fucks her brains out.

“I am not about to have sex with you on the beach.”

“But baby, you look so fucking good,” He whispers in her ear, kissing the skin behind. “And you know how much I love being inside of you.”

Y/N knows, she loves him inside her too. He's so big and his cock is so perfect. She nibbles at her lip, biting back a moan. Why does he always have the right words to get her worked up.

All she wants is one day when they're not going at it like rabbits. Is that too much to ask for?

Apparently, to Yoongi, it is.

He sits up with a scoff picking her up easily and settling her on his lap again, back pressed against his chest.

“Y/N... if I want to fuck you. I will.”

She sighs. He's so stubborn, he won't give up for anything. She grabs the towel she'd been lying on and covers her lap with it.

“Fine.”

Yoongi’s face is already buried in her neck when he smiles and squeezes her waist. “Thank you, princess,” He mutters against her, sucking and biting harshly at the creamy surface. “I'll fuck you so good.”

After he's done with her, he's gonna send her back to the bar, marked up and sweaty, so that the boy can see who she belongs to.

She's his and will always be.

Y/N rests her head back on his shoulder with a muted moan, allowing him ease of access as her eyes flits around the area. Apart from the few people at the bar hut and the people playing around in the water, she'd say they were safe. At least, as safe as they could be on a beach anyway.

Yoongi isn't even taking precautions like Y/N, he's visibly excited that he's about to fuck her on a beach. He tugs his shorts down quickly.

His cock rubs against her covered pussy as she grinds down against him impulsively. “You need to be faster than this Yoongs,” She whines.

“I'm coming—” He shifts the towel around their body in place, knowing it'll probably make Y/N feel more sheltered. “I'm coming, hold on baby girl.”

He draws her panties to the side and his cock twitches as he strokes himself against her slit. He lets out a shaky breath, her juices coat his tip almost immediately and he wants to eat her so bad. But he can't. Not here.

“Shit my baby girls so wet for me, isn't she?”

“Christ.” Her eyes roll back as she gasps. She's incredibly needy now. She has to force herself not to move without his command. She knows her Yoongi. And she knows as riled as he is, he'll leave her horny if she disobeys him. “Just fuck me... please.”

God. She's so pretty and good to him, particularly so when she's begging for him. He loves it when she begs, makes him feel in control.

“Look at you.” He sniggers. “Weren't you just so adamant on me not being inside you.”

She denies it.

“You sure baby?”

Y/N sucks in a sharp breath as he sinks her down on his cock slowly until all of him is buried inside her warmth. And her jaw slackens, a whine escaping her mouth. He always fills her so goddamn well.

She can't control the noises that leave her lips, and as sweet as he finds them he's gonna need her to stop. Even though he doesn't want her to. He wants to hear every whimper she makes.

“Try to keep quiet baby girl. We don't want to get caught,” Yoongi urges breathily and cups a breast from underneath her bra in his large hand. “Now, I'm gonna need you to ride me yeah...”

Y/N nods fervently, hurriedly digging her fingers into his thigh painfully and he bites into the skin under her jaw with the same intensity.

Both are numb to the feeling, revelling in the steady rhythm her hips make as she lifts herself up and sits back down, burying herself deep on his cock each time. Her breast bounces in his hands and he rolls her nipple between his fingers.

They're both short of breath, panting and groaning like dogs in heat. The sun beats down on them in sweltering heat waves and their bodies are slick with sweat.

They'd never fucked so publicly before and the thought of someone watching them arouses her to no end and Y/N can't take it anymore.

He feels so good filling her completely like his cock was made just for her cunt. Her stomach tightens, she wants him to pound into her so bad.

“Sh-Shit Yoongi, I need you to—” Her knees buckle as she rocks desperately against him. “I can't.”

Yoongi grabs at her waist. “You've been getting so greedy recently. Don't you dare fucking even think about stopping,” He growls in her ear. He plants a hand into the sand around them, steadying himself as he begins to thrust up into her.

He's driving into her hungrily, forceful and keen strokes set out to impale her swollen pussy. His name leaves her lips like a memorised mantra, the lewd slaps of her body against his entirely too loud for the beach but he loves it all.

“Fuck, my girls always so good at taking my cock, isn't she?”

“Yes—” She exhales shakily. “I love taking your cock so much.”

“God, you’re such a fucking cock whore.”

Her hair scatters across her face as she shakes her head. “Yes— Yes, I love your cock. I love it when you come inside me—”

Yoongi grins against her jaw. “Yeah? You like it when I fill you?”

Y/N struggles for breath, choppy, short and strangled puffs each time he pushes. “Uh huh—I love it when you watch your cum seep out of me as well. Makes me feel like a good girl for you.”

“Jesus Christ, you're so fucking filthy, who's letting you keep talking like that?”

Y/N doesn't have to say it. They both know that it's him. Yoongi’s letting her speak like that. And she's so overthrown in the bliss that the words just flow out naturally.

“It's because you fuck me so so so good.”

“I do, don't I?” He grunts, huffing and puffing to catch his breath. “It's 'cause my girl knows how to take her cock so well.”

She's hysterically trying to keep her grip on his thighs but he's treating her like a rag doll, and she can't wait to see the bruises his hands make on her waist.

“Yes— fuck, yes!”

“So, will you be a good girl and keep it all in you then?” Fuck, she's clenching so hard on him, and her walls are so tight he can barely move. He grits out with clenched teeth.

“I want to see you talk to that boy again with ruined panties a—and my cum running down your thighs. Can you do that for me, baby?”

Y/N’s agreeing before he can even finish. “I'll do anything you want. I just— I just want to feel your cum stuffing me full.”

Her head is dizzy with pleasure as his thrusts stay unrelenting. There's no empathy in them and fire pools low in her abdomen. And he's shaking.

“Fucking hell princess.”

Yoongi can't believe how lucky he is to have such a naughty girl like her, he will reward her though. He knows her body like the back of his hand.

He lifts her off of him much to her complaint and turns her around, so they're face to face, he rests his forehead against hers giving Y/N ample time to breathe before slamming her body down towards him.

“Oh god, right— right there.”

Yoongi smirks, pounding into her again and again. Aggravating slow and controlled strokes that has her covering her silenced shrieks with a shaky hand.

“Here?” He mocks.

“Yoongi!” She throws her head back and he relishes in how beautiful she looks for him. Her face is flushed, strands of brown hair stuck onto it and her lips are bright and swollen by the way she's been biting at them with her teeth.

He shushes her. “Don't worry baby, I've got you.” He's always got her.

Y/N’s overcome with all emotions at once, her eyes sting with unshed tears. It's the pure incredibility of how well he's fucking her on a public beach and she knows she can't go back from this. Nor can he, he's gonna tick this off his bucket list and boast to the boys.

“God—I love you so fucking much Yoongi.”

He kisses her throat, soft and loving despite his thrusts. “I love you too—so much.” He means it. He's always meant it.

“Fuck, I'm gonna—”

Y/N hooks her arms around his neck tightly, or else she's sure she's gonna flop back. Her back arches as she pushes her breasts flat onto his chest and he captures her lips in a bruising kiss. It's messy and sensual, tongues massaging together, and it just manages to mute out her clamorous moans.

His pace speeds up, frantic and careless strokes into her as he chases his release. “I want you to cum around my cock princess,” Yoongi says heatedly. “Want to feel it so bad.”

And Y/N can't hold back anymore, the blue skies fade to black as she writhes against him, dissolving into blinding pleasure. Her walls tighten around him, the sensitivity of his vigorous strokes causing her to jerk and jolt.

He groans holding her firmly, his muscles contracting and relaxing when he goes still. His seed splatters against her walls, pump after pump of warm cum filling her so right. Like he always does. And they know it's messy, it always is.

“Fuck, my angel did so well—” Yoongi leaves sweet kisses on her jaw. Y/N hums, looking completely ruined and so rightfully his. Just like he's so rightfully hers.

Her body is flimsy as Yoongi lifts her up gently, pulling himself out of her. He fixes her panties before their juices trickle out of her slit too quickly.

“Now try to hold my cum in you, and go talk to that bartender boy again.”

Y/N laughs. “Christ— you love this don't you.”

Yoongi curses as she does up her bra and stands to her feet. His hands and mouth have left prominent marks on her skin and he can already see his release beginning to run down her thighs.

She sighs, “At least let me wear a shirt.”

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fatathlon · 6 years ago

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Race Report: Greater Nashua Sprint Triathlon

My first triathlon of 2019 was a sprint distance race held in southern New Hampshire, called the Greater Nashua Sprint Triathlon. I settled on this race in particular after several months of research, trying to find a race that was both within driving distance and lined up with my training schedule for my 70.3 race. I didn’t know anything about it other than what I found on the website and Facebook page, but it was the 10th annual running of the event, so it seemed likely to be a well-organized race.

Pre-Race

An added bonus to this race was that my wife’s parents and brother live just an hour away from the race location, so we were all able to stay with them and combine it into a family visit. It’s a huge benefit to race day preparations to be in a comfortable location with family before an event, so I’m grateful we were able to have that opportunity. I went to bed at the same time as my kids, and actually managed to sleep through most of the night. I only woke up once, at about 3 AM, and then drifted in and out until about 5, when I got up.

Breakfast was my customary bowl of oatmeal flavored with maple syrup with a coffee. While I had the syrup out, I took the opportunity to fill my gel bottle. I still wasn’t sure if I would even use fuel during the race, because it was so short, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to have it along.

Breakfast

Race Fuel

Nice morning view

I had everything pretty much ready to go the night before, so all I had to do in the morning was load my bike, put my transition bag in the car, and head out. The drive was uneventful. As I got close to Nashua, I started to see more and more cars carrying bikes. It wasn’t long before I saw a fully decked out Quintana Roo on the back of a pickup. Welcome to New Hampshire.

Parking was an absolute nightmare. There was a lot designated for racers, which was the entire area around a local school, but it was already packed to the gills by the time I arrived. I ended up having to park underneath a swing set. I checked the air in my tires at my car, put my transition bag on my bag and rode to the transition area.

Transition was pretty well organized, with everyone having a marked spot on the racks. Once again my bike was too tall to fit very well on the rack. The saddle was too high to easily get it under the bar, and then there wasn’t enough of a hang to keep it on there securely. Not much I could do about it, so I set up my transition stuff and went to get body-marked, check out the transition routes, and wander down to the water.

My transition setup. My rear wheel is basically on the ground.

There were about 15 minutes of announcements before the race, which felt like they took forever. I tried to keep my arms moving, doing some arm circles and such, but mostly just stood around feeling my springs coil. Finally, they started calling waves. Everyone had an assigned wave number, and when your wave was called, you went down to a dock area to check-in and queue up for the start.

Swim

This was my first race wearing a wetsuit. It was also my first race with a wave start. It cheated everyone out of some time, because the timing mat was on the dock and the waves treaded water for a minute or two before actually starting. But at least everyone lost the same amount of time, so it didn’t really matter.

I put some water on the back of my neck just before jumping in, but it felt like a warm bath. I was prepared for a cold shock when stepped off the dock, but it was just balmy. I grabbed the start line rope and floated until the starter gave us the go signal, then I was off.

One of the first waves heading out

Almost immediately, I felt like something was wrong. I wasn’t more than 30 seconds into it and I felt absolutely awful. I thought I might be getting sick. Was I even moving? I couldn’t really tell. My line was way off, too, and I kept veering to the right. I tried to focus on my technique and things got a little better. I decided that whatever I was feeling, it wasn’t getting any worse, so I would just push through it. I had done enough swim training to know that I wouldn’t suddenly drown or anything, especially while wearing a buoyant wetsuit. The worst case was that my arm strength would just give out, and it hadn’t yet. So there was no reason to stop. On I went.

About halfway through the loop, I started catching some people. I have no idea if they were in my wave or the wave before mine, or possibly the wave after mine, having gotten ahead of me at the start. I didn’t try to swim over anyone but I didn’t really seem them coming, either, so some contact was inevitable.

I hadn’t set a goal time for the swim, but from experience I expected something between 10-15 minutes in the back of my mind. When I finally stood up to exit, it felt like it had been twice that, but I figured realistically it was maybe 12 minutes.

I looked at my watch and saw an 8. Suddenly things made a little more sense. I had been going faster — much faster — than I thought. No wonder I felt like my chest was going to explode.

Official Swim Time: 8:49 (.3 mi) – 1:41/100 yd 7/32 in age group; 34/414 overall

T1 sent us up a sandy path through the woods to the grassy area where the bikes were. There were wetsuit strippers waiting for us, which was awesome. I pulled my wetsuit down below my waist, slid into home on the tarp, and my suit was popped off before I even knew what was happening. I thanked the volunteers and headed to my bike.

About to get stripped

I had toyed a bit with leaving my shoes on my bike with rubber bands, but ultimately couldn’t really figure out how to do it so it worked properly, and I was worried about the rubber bands getting caught in my gears, so I decided to just put my shoes on in transition, run the bike out, and clip in. I certainly wasn’t going to try a flying mount, so this was a reasonable option for me. At the last second I grabbed my maple syrup bottle and slid it into my tri suit pocket.

Official T1 time: 3:13 – 91/414 overall

Bike

The bike route was very short, and very flat. I’d only done three previous races before this one, but this was the shortest and flattest by far. I had been doing a lot of mental gymnastics about the bike leg in the days leading up to the race, debating my approach. Overall, I wanted this race to be something of a practice session for my 70.3 — transition logistics, using a wetsuit, etc. I thought about also extending that to pacing, to practice the mental and emotional control required to slow myself down at the start of the bike leg so that I would be able to hold the right pace throughout, and then have enough left over for the run. But as soon as I was clipped in, that decision was made. It was go time.

Because I didn’t have any pacing or power targets, I ended up watching my heart rate most of all while out on the course, followed by my speed. My heart rate was shockingly high compared to the levels I was used to seeing during my training, which is predominantly spent in zone 2. But I knew that wasn’t necessarily a problem. The race was short enough that I could work at or above threshold for the whole thing. They call it a sprint for a reason, after all.

The other fun thing about a sprint is that passing someone on the bike leg is usually permanent. In a longer race, it can often be just the first of two meetings, the second of which being when they come back and smoke you on the run. But in a sprint, they are more likely to run out of road if you go full throttle on the bike. Since it was a wave start, I knew that passing people was not an entirely accurate representation of my place in the field. But it was motivating anyway. So I reeled in as many people as I could, and made sure that nobody passed me. The best part was passing those $6,000 tri bikes on my gravel bike with regular old drop bars.

As it turned out, I was glad to have my maple syrup on board. I took a couple hits, one partway through and one just before T2. It felt helpful, and made me realize that I would probably need more fuel than I had been thinking during my longer race in July.

The bike course covered, I had a clean dismount just at the line, and ran my bike in to the transition area again.

Official Bike Time: 25:45 (9.6 mi) – 22.4/mph 4/32 in age group; 18/414 overall

T2 was my slowest performance on the day, relative to the field. I didn’t deliberately go slow, but I wasn’t rushing, either. I’m pretty particular about how my shoe lace-up feels, and that combined with the socks I use (which are not super easy to get on) probably accounted for my slow time. But I made it out on the run with everything I needed and feeling pretty good, so I wasn’t too worried about blitzing through T2.

Official time: 1:51 – 313/414 overall

Run

I expected to be running fast out of transition, having experienced that phenomenon before. Adrenaline is high and you are excited to just get going, and before you know it you’re running way faster than you expected. I checked my watch after a couple hundred yards and saw I was running close to 7:30 min/mi, which is very fast for me. For reference, I ran all of my sprints last year at around 9:00 min/mi. My first reaction was to feel like I needed to back off, slow down and find a more conservative pace, but then I remembered it was only 3.1 miles. I was able to hold a strong pace through the swim and bike, why not the run? Might as well go for it, and see how long I could hold it before I slowed down. The worst case was that my pace would slow for the back half of the race, but I knew I would finish no matter what. Go time continued.

I focused on my cadence through most of the run, trying to keep the rhythm even and high. That seems to be my key to running fast (such that “fast” is, for me), when I need to. If I think about ‘running fast,’ it’s harder to do, but if I just focus on my cadence, it’s easier for some reason.

The run was also a very flat course, with only a couple slight inclines, when my pace dipped closer to 8:00 min/mi. I was able to hold my cadence pretty well throughout. Two or three people passed me, including a 60+ year old woman and a kid, wearing the race t-shirt. Sigh. But overall I held my pace and I felt strong throughout.

By the time the last half-mile came around, I was starting to feel it, particularly in my hips and my abdominals. I was definitely on the edge, pushing to maintain the pace. There wasn’t much of anything left for a late surge, all I could do was hold what I had through the chute and over the finish line.

Official Run Time: 24:19 (3.1 mi) – 7:50/mi 11/32 in age group; 65/414 overall

Overall Results: Time: 1:03:55 5/32 in age group; 34/219 by gender; 36/414 overall

Post Race & Summary

The race venue had a lot of activities for kids, which was great for when my family arrived. There were at least three bouncy houses, plus a clown making balloon animals, and kid-friendly food. The food was great, and there was tons of it, all of it free as far as I could tell, at least for racers. It wasn’t just bananas and bagels, there was an entire sandwich buffet, flatbread pizza, Italian ice, all kinds of things. The only real negatives for me about the race organization and venue were parking and the lack of a professional race photographer (there were only official volunteers, who took substandard photos and whose coverage was incomplete). Otherwise, it was a well-organized and fun race on a decent course.

As far as my performance goes, I came away a little surprised and with a lot to think about. I had definitely underestimated my potential in the water and on the run. I really didn’t have any idea that I could swim or run that fast over any distance. Almost immediately, I started thinking ahead to July, and trying to sort out what that means for my 70.3. Obviously I won’t be racing at these speeds at that distance. But my personal bar has been raised, there’s no getting around that. Now I have the task of handling that knowledge without it infiltrating my head in a negative way. Expectations for a race are not usually helpful.

I tried to examine whether I could have gone any faster, any harder, improved in any area in order to jump to the 1st-3rd place podium from my 5th place spot. I would have had to be about 6 mins faster to do that. Certainly I was maxed on the swim. I don’t think I was at maximum capacity on the bike, but I was fairly close. The run didn’t have a whole lot of room to give, either. When I look at the actual times between 5th (me) and 3rd, here’s what I find:

PlaceSwimT1BikeT2RunTotal3rd8:202:2525:390:3521:0958:065th (me)8:493:1325:561:5124:191:03:55Difference:0:290:480:171:163:105:49

Clearly the majority of time lost was on the run. That isn’t surprising to me, since I’ve never been a fast runner. But I’m encouraged, because I’m way faster than I used to be. The next biggest deficit was T2, followed relatively closely by T1. The differences on the swim and the bike combined could be easily surmounted by improving just my transitions alone. Or I could have pushed a bit harder on the climbs (such as they were) on the bike and probably wiped out a lot of that time. But most of the improvement work to be done is clearly in my run.

Is this a microcosm of what I can expect at longer distance? It will be interesting to see how the ratios play out there. I’d also be interested in comparing these relative results to my results from last year’s sprints. That is, how much slower — relative to the field — was I in transition vs. the bike leg, or run leg. Maybe that will be a good subject for a future post. You can’t compare races 1:1, but I think you can get a sense of how the relative balance of everything plays out, and what that means for your skill set and fitness level. If nothing else, it’s an interesting diversion.

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nomdy-plume · 5 years ago

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Have you seen ‘Inside Llewyn Davis’?

It’s a good job I don’t post a new blog every week – I’d have nothing to talk about.

Whereas, leaving it a few months between updates, I have LOTS to cover. You ready? Let’s begin:

Since returning from Texas, I have completed a month’s contract onboard another ferry, after my management were kind enough to offer me a way out of short-term pecuniary disenfranchisement. It was the sister-ship of the one that I normally find myself on and I’m pleased to say that it was the better of the two: the indoor smoking room (I no longer smoke) was a [much larger and better equipped] gym and the gym room was a very plush TV room with a full satellite package.

Given the cricket world cup was taking place during my contract, it was wonderful to be the only person on the ship who wasn’t busy working during the day. I had the whole TV room to myself (about 25 yards from the mess, food, drink, etc.) to indulge in what was an amazing tournament.

On my last two contracts I was playing in the main theatre (in the belly of the ship) with a party band but for a month I was providing troubadour, solo, action upstairs in the Sky lounge – my first contract as a soloist. After an initial knee-jerk reaction to accepting the contract of downloading a ton of backing tracks, so I could provide a range of musical options, I realised pretty quickly that this was completely unnecessary.

Performing 4x 30min sets a night: I started out by planning 3 days’ worth of unique sets, which I figured I could adjust and tinker with until I was happy with how they all worked out. Slow, mellow ones to start with before whipping the crowd into a frenzy with sing-a-long classics later on in the night. I think I had about 150 songs in my solo repertoire to choose from and it’s basically about 7 or 8 songs a set (depending on how long I drag them out for).

It was the usual mix of songs that I know I can play and sing – which work in a solo setting – and a desperate grab for as many other suitable songs which I could learn or which I really wanted to try out acoustically.

However, pretty early in the contract, one of the ladies on security in the port was kind enough to pass on her head cold to me. My throat was soon swollen enough for me to ask my Entertainments Manager (EM) if it would be OK if I just played some instrumental stuff until my voice was better. His reaction – reading between the lines, and the indifferent shrug – told me that he couldn’t care less what I did as long as I was up there making some form of noise for my allotted times.

Now, this meant that the bar staff / bar manager in my venue must have been happy with what they had heard of me so far: they are always the ones to complain if something isn’t working or going to plan. This pleased me: the bar staff have to listen to the solo act over and over and over again, every night for weeks on end, so whereas the passengers might only hear one or two performances, the staff will hear every single one.

They become very sensitive to how good/bad people are in both their playing and their selection of material – normally the lack of it. 150 songs might seem a lot, but that’s only 5 days worth before you repeat yourself IF you stick to playing every song.

Anyway, to cut to the chase, I quickly got the 30 min sets down to 3 or 4 songs – only two of which I might sing on. I needed to come up with a few more jazz instrumentals to bluff my way through as the staff were hearing Autumn Leaves and Blue Bossa every night, and I don’t want to drive them too mad…

It was a good exercise in needing to be creative with a looper pedal as well as figuring out which of my repertoire I could drag out for around ten mins with solos before and after each verse/chorus…

It meant that I could reduce the songs on which I did sing down to a select, polished group. It was a great relief to know that I could just throw down a loop and meander whimsically around some melodic lines for the duration of the sets. Audience were happy, bar staff were happy – I was over the moon!

The audiences were a mixed bag. Most were very receptive: in the warm summer evenings, the top lounge where I played was the place to be. Plus it is right next to the open smoking decks – so there have been some good numbers of bodies in, most of the time. They don’t seem to mind me in the corner with a looper pedal just noodling away and I’ve been able to play all the requests thrown my way so far. The German passengers seem extra friendly and receptive – apparently they LOVE a bit of Dire Straits, which suits me right down to the ground because so do I.

As per most contracts, there were times when a small, appreciative crowd were loving everything I was playing – just as there were times when a large, unappreciative crowd couldn’t have cared less what I was doing. In my final week, I was determined to give it everything I had in those final shows – I poured my heart and soul into everything I did. And no-one noticed, cared or gave a hoot.

Such is life!

Some nights I sucked, didn’t want to be there… some nights I was on fire, didn’t want it to end… I had a ton of fun, even if it didn’t feel like it all the time. I also got to head into Amsterdam a couple of times which was wonderful, it’s possibly my favourite European city and I’ve spent so many hours wandering around the canals and streets.

There’s a breakfast café very near the station which always – ALWAYS! – has a queue of about 10-15 people waiting to get in. It’s called Omelegg and I’ve always wanted to know what the food is like in there… all the online reviews say it’s incredible… my lifetime quest to find out for myself continueth…

The party band who were onboard were a nice bunch. They were in the lamentable – but not uncommon – position of joining the ship with a guitarist who was young, naïve and completely unprepared for the contract. However, he was a nice, well-meaning guy and the others didn’t seem to be willing to cuss him out: they were kind of hand-holding him through the contract. Bless.

Bands are responsible for making sure they know what they are doing, are rehearsed, etc. and apparently this kid had known for a year that he was doing it. Sounds like his reasoning was as follows (taken from ad verbatim quotes from the band):

· I’m the best guitarist at my university

· I can play anything and I can sing a bit

· I should be able to figure out / jam along to whatever the band play

I was torn: between admiring the sheer, bare-faced audacity of naïve youth and gobbling popcorn at the eye-widening, car-crash drama of it all. I managed to catch a few of their songs – when our set-times overlapped a little – and it was, indeed, painful to witness.

I wish I could say that I hadn’t been there before, in his shoes (albeit under slightly different circumstances), but I had. All I can say is that if you survive a baptism of fire like that and STILL want to pursue it as a career, you’ve already displayed enough courage and determination/perseverance to almost guarantee some level of success. It is being right at the bottom of a very steep, painful learning curve.

I also loved my Ibanez jazzy hollow-body guitar on this contract, too. I bought it in Hong Kong a few years back (the Tom Lee store there is incredible: an Aladdin’s cave of guitar goodness) and hadn’t really touched it since. I wasn’t sure if the contract would stipulate ‘acoustic-only’ – but that was me being overly cautious. Not only does it sound great – that oaky, woody, jazzy sound you’d expect from that style of guitar – but it plays so much more easily than anything else I own.

And, because you guys are always most interested in the tragic, nerve-wracking, up-and-down drama of my life as a musician, I’ll fill you in on current events.

I’d been lining up a contract for later in the year, back onboard the last cruise ship where we did the acoustic duo gig. This time as the party band, which – although fraught with its own logistical challenges – was at least a contract on the table. Indeed, I had digitally signed and returned it and was relieved to have another 5 months of work booked in to keep my head afloat.

However, the delightful and immensely-talented LT had previously – and both I and the drummer were loosely aware of this – auditioned for a cruise line which paid nearly twice the money for not quite half the work, but certainly a much more agreeable working environment.

So, it was with a sense of dread and doom that we read her message saying that she had been offered a contract with this other cruise line and we weren’t going to be able to tag along. We weren’t going to do the contract without her and we all knew that she was destined for greater things than earning minimum wage with no days off for five months.

So, here I am under fairly intense financial pressures and no work on the horizon. It’s all very Inside Llewyn Davis, which pleases and disgusts me in equal measures. On the plus side, in my attempts to get some sort of a side-gig going, I’ve done some work as an extra on a major Netflix production which was being filmed in Wales. It’ll be out later this year, I’m hoping to get some screen time – it’ll be something to laugh about with my family.

So yeah, there’s the update. I may leave it as long again to allow enough to occur to make it a riveting read… but then I don’t have much on at the moment and may end up publishing frequently as a means to pass the time…

*salutes*

#music #musician #guitar

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exo-can · 6 years ago

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Growing Pains: I Miss You

A collection inspired by Adele’s album 25

Order: 1) When We Were Young 3)River Lea 4)Send My Love (To Your New Lover)

WARNING: Language, some soft smut (rare i know lol)

gif originally posted by @vanillalattaes

A/N: Although its not required, i would recommend reading this series in the order i release them as im doing it in a sort of star wars fashion lol. It won’t affect you storyline wise though if you choose to read this one first (: enjoy my lovlies

The room felt as suffocatingly tense as it was quiet. The only reprieve from the silence being a small cough or the frustrated tapping of a pencil once in a while. Desperately, you willed yourself to ignore it, eyes determined to remain on your page, as though staring at the blank space was going to will the answer to simply appear. Why the fuck did I listen to the counsellor and take this course? Your pupils flitted over the question again, as though you had expected to find some hint to the answer. I wanted a publishing internship, not a crash course on how music affects literature!

Exactly one month ago, on this very day, you signed over your sanity by signing up for this Theory and Analysis class. To be fair, you didn't think that examining a few notes and a poem here and there would be too hard. In fact, you’d even called it a cake walk. Boy, oh boy, were you ever wrong. The knowledge that you would have been able to get the internship was in the back of your mind; you were a good student with a strong GPA. Yet, you still wanted something to give you even the slightest edge over your competitors, which is when the school course advisor suggested this. You had agreed at the time. After all, so many authors now were also musicians, so it could give you a connection or even an insight to their work that perhaps other interns might not have. Now, you wholeheartedly regretted that decision.

Sighing, you slumped into your chair which made a loud squeak. Heads whipped in your direction, icy glares making you sink lower, mouthing a silent ‘sorry.’ Once your peers turned back around you sighed once more, rubbing your fingertips into the temples of your skull, making it look to anyone who glanced at you like you were meditating in your seat. C’mon, Y/N, an internal peptalk starting in your head, You’re not gonna let this ruin your GPA. Schumann, Schumann, Schumann… or was it Schubert? Motherfu-- You could feel your forehead wrinkling in concentration, when a small snicker snapped you out of your trance. Knowing exactly who it came from, your eyes squinted at Taehyung, who was in the desk beside you, menacingly. Lifting your hand, you raised your most favourite finger at the moment, Taehyung only grinning at you like a child in response before turning back to his own test. Rolling your eyes, you were about to do the same, when your vision was halted on a head of black hair just past Taehyung.

You didn't know him personally, only through mutual friends. Honestly, you’d never even really spoken to him. You only knew what you heard, which was a fair amount. His name was Min Yoongi. He was a music major, but you didn't really know whether he composed or played. That wasn’t really what the other girls liked to discuss. The seemingly much more interesting topic was his love life. Yoongi was good looking, it was no secret. There was something so interesting about his sharp features and cat-like eyes. Even you had to admit it, staring at his face from three desks down like the creepiest person in existence. But he was also known to dine and dash, so to speak. There were a good amount of girls who claimed to have slept with him, but never had anyone seen him actually with someone beyond one night, so it was widely disputed whether they ever actually had slept together. However, there was one detail that remained the same with every girl; he never contacted or even spoke to any of them after. Looking at him now, you didn't really think someone like him could be that cruel. Someone who was close with your new-found friend, Taehyung, could never be. Taehyung was one of the most kind hearted people you’d ever met, despite the teasing.

Normally, these sorts of traits were a bit of a turn off for you; most guys who falled into the category he was described as all ended up being the same. And ultimately boring. You’d played that game before and had long since grown tired of it. Yet as you scanned his profile, you mused that maybe you wouldn’t mind dealing yourself in once more to relieve pent up stress, if nothing else.

Taehyung knew him personally, so you knew it would only be a matter of time before you were introduced. Placing your head in your palm, your rested your elbow on your desk. Distantly, you wondered what kind of person he would actually turn out to be. His fingers deftly swiped his pencil back and forth on his paper. You couldn’t read exactly what he wrote, but you were surprised at how full his page his was, only infringing a slight amount of guilt on you for neglecting your own test. Watching, you admired how nimble, yet thin his hands were. Long fingers gripped the pencil strong enough that the veins in his hand could be seen, when suddenly they stopped their movements. Your eyes traveled back up his frame, only to meet his own curious ones. Immediately you snatched your gaze away, your head practically flying out of your palm in sheer panic. Reaching your fingers out to grab your own pencil far too hastily, it clattered to the floor deafeningly. Heads all turning back to you, each person seemed to be sending you telepathic prayers that your would just mysteriously disappear for disturbing them once more. The floor was the only thing you could safely look at as your cheeks flushed red and you dived for your pencil. Retrieving it you immediately hid your tomato face behind your hands with your elbows on the desk and stared down at your paper with more focus than ever. Unable to look, you could hear the other students turning back around in their seats resentfully as you shook your head at your own embarrassment. Such. An. Idiot.

“So, Yoongi said something to me the other day.” The coffee in your mouth suddenly tasted bitter despite the disgusting amount of sugar and caramel syrup in it.

Struggling to avoid spitting the liquid all over the pavement as you walked beside Taehyung, you attempted to compose yourself though the incident from last week surged to the forefront of your mind. Humiliation resurfacing and panic setting in because there was absolutely no way in hell Taehyung would ever let you live this down. Patting your chest and then sticking out your tongue as though the drink had burned your tongue after you swallowed. When you finally replied, your voice was thick with the attempt to feign innocence. “Oh? About?”

“You.” Your heart felt like it was falling through the floor.

“Really? What did he say?” You replied, despite knowing you were most likely caught and were about to face a face full of ridicule that would last until graduation in 4 years.

“He kinda just asked who you were, seeing as we’ve been attached at the hip since orientation.” A glimmer of hope shined on the horizon. “To be honest, I thought he was gonna ask if you had some sort of condition because of all the drool pouring out of your mouth last week.”

And there it went. “You saw?!”

“Pretty sure the whole class did, Y/N.” He simpered when you batted him with your free arm.

“Ass,” you muttered into the lid of your coffee.

“It’s okay if you have a crush on him. He’s a good guy, for the most part.” Taehyung commented, his last addition perking your interest. What does that mean? “Besides, I maybe, sorta, have a little thing for your friend…”

“Haerin?” You looked at him, puzzled seeing as they’d met all of one time and it was very brief. Sheepishly, he shook his head and it dawned on you, pausing mid step on the sidewalk. “Wait, Luna?!”

Rolling his eyes, he didn’t slow his pace, forcing you to jog forward to keep up once the initial shock wore off.

“You do know she’s head over heels for her boyfriend, right?” He nodded, a scowl on his face. “And that they’ve been together for nearly two years?”

“Yes, Y/N.” His voice was slightly aggravated. “It’s a crush. It’s not like i'm going to propose.”

A twinge of unease poked at your stomach as you realized you weren't exactly being supportive. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed when nothing comes from it, Tae.”

The corner of his mouth turned upwards and he patted your shoulder. “Don’t worry, I know there's not really a chance of anything happening.” His grin grew in size, mischief brewing beneath his irises. “You, on the other hand, have some hope. Which would be why I invited Yoongi to the library with us.”

Once again, you halted in your steps, mortified at what your friend had done. “You did what?!”

“Would you stop doing that?” Taking two steps back, he gripped your arm and pulled you forward. “For one, you’re going to spill coffee all over yourself. Second, he’s waiting for us.”

“I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He giggled as he let his grip on your arm go.

“Seriously, Tae.” You whined. “I don’t think this is a good idea. I’m going home.”

“No, you aren’t.” He shook his head. “He’s already seen you.”

Snapping your eyes in the direction which Taehyung was now waving, you spotted him. Leaning against the railing of the steps to the old campus library, he looked cosy. Bundled in a gray scarf and a long, black, tweed coat, you could see a tinge of rouge powdering his nose from the chill October air. Pulling a hand out of his pocket, he gave a wave back before delving the limb back into his pocket in search of warmth. His face is a little puffy in the morning, you remarked. Cute. Eyes twitched over to you, a new flush of red dusting your own cheeks at being caught staring once again. Averting your eyes to the tops of your shoes, a weird pulling sensation made your insides squirm.

Steeling your nerves, you did your best to at least appear composed as the gap between you and Yoongi dwindled. By the time you reached him, your internal panic levels had reduced a little, though you still felt like bolting in the opposite direction to avoid the imminent awkwardness. Playing with the lid of your coffee, your shoes scuffed to a stop once Taehyung did the same. Letting your eyes drift upward, it came as a surprise to find him being the one staring for a change, though he made no move to conceal it. You did your best to read him, but it was to no avail, his face remaining as stoic as ever. It was Taehyung who was the first to speak, a knowing grin on his face as he drew the pair of your’s attention away from one another. “Y/N, this is Yoongi.”

A self-conscious smile flashed across your lips as you murmured a short, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Yoongi’s sultry tone took you off guard; you didn’t expect someone like him to have such a deep, raspy voice.

“You look tired.” Taehyung interjected.

Yoongi scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, I was up a little late last night.”

“Aw shit I forgot, your project was due this morning right?” Taehyung replied apologetically, to which his friend nodded. “You didn’t have to come! We could’ve done this later.”

“No, that’s okay.” His dark irises fluttered to you briefly. “I wanted to.”

“Right.” Taehyung smirked, brushing past Yoongi to the steps that lead to the library. “Let’s go then.”

Following behind, you walked up the steps to the door, Yoongi taking up the rear. Taehyung didn’t bother to hold the door for you, forcing you to reach out to catch it with a flash of annoyance. “Hey!”

Taehyung snickered as people immediately shushed you, a blush fanning across your cheeks for letting him goad you. Whispering under your breath, you commented on your friends child like antics, “Dick.”

A breathless laugh came from behind you. Sneaking a glance back, Yoongi’s eyes were reduced to slivers, his cheeks higher from hiding a grin in the depths of his scarf. Weaving through the library, you did your best to quell the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Your efforts not doing much as frustration took hold at how he’d barely even said a word, but somehow made you feel like you were back in highschool, pining for some guy. Never one to fall fast, it was odd for you to feel this nervous around a guy. You weren't a stranger to hookups, but a part of you wondered if it was just because it had been a little while.

Brushing the thoughts away, you focus on not hitting one of the various tables as Taehyung led you into one of the group study rooms where talking was permitted. Yoongi was the last to enter, closing the door softly behind him. Setting your half-empty drink on the table, you shrugged your backpack off along with your jacket. Thank god, you’d decided that your comfiest sweatpants and sweater were a bit too musky to wear in public. Settling into your chair, you unloaded your books as Taehyung sat across from you and placed his things on the chair beside him, leaving the one beside you the only chair left for Yoongi to take. He didn’t seem at all fazed though, barely batting an eye at Taehyung's obviousness as he took up the place beside you. Taking off his coat and scarf, he opted to keep the beanie on, which you didn’t mind at all as he looked like a walking-talking advertisement for it. His black hair poked out the front and sides, a glimmer of an earring catching your eye. Shaking your head you averted your gaze to your book, forcing yourself to read the text. I’m starting to understand why these girls rave about him….

“Y/N?” Taehyung snapped you out of your reverie, “you aren’t going to study our theory class?”

“No. I’ve been studying that all week.” You replied, defeated. “I’m pretty sure that my head is actually going to explode if I do.”

“Fair,” Taehyung chuckled. “I just thought maybe you’d wanna ask Yoongi for some help seeing as how great your last test went.”

Quirking your head, you said, “I’m sure he has his own stuff too; I don't wanna unload on anyone--”

“He got 93 percent on the test.”

Your head immediately turned to the side, mouth slightly agape. You never knew he got such good grades; it wasn’t exactly something people talked about. He looked a little unnerved by your reaction, “I don’t mind--”

“Please.” You cut him off, nearly facepalming at your lack of tact. “I mean, if you don’t mind, could you please help me? Only if you have the time though. Again, I don’t wanna cause you any trouble--”

“Y/N,” The sound of your name leaving his lips made your stomach flip. “It’s no bother; it helps me study it too.”

The sun had just began to descend when Taehyung had left the two of you to your own devices, though you didn't really notice. On the exterior, Yoongi seemed like a gruff sort of person, but as he started teaching you, you found out that wasn't at all the case. He went through notes and old tests so patiently with you, never complaining when you got a question wrong even if it was the fourth time you’d been over it. Not once. Gentle fingers glided over the pages of your old text book, showing you references and dates while keeping the page open until he was sure you understood. As you studied, you realized that he wasn’t just taking a course because society expected him to; he was passionate about music.

The proximity between you had eventually began to close as your timidness wore off and you felt more comfortable with him. Your bodies now only centimeters apart. He was close enough that you could smell his cologne and his arm would sometimes brush against yours, sending a tingle up your spine. Doing your best to focus, you only snuck glances at him when he was reading from the textbook. There were smaller things you’d noticed about him now; his tendency to fiddle with his pencil, the miniscule freckle just to the right of his nose, and the way his lips settled into a pout whenever he rested his features. An urge to know more about him lingered, the study session only fueling your intrigue instead of burning it out as it usually did when you met a guy like this. As time wore on, excitement still gurgled inside you but guilt couldn’t help but convolute your heart. This entire time he’d only been helping you instead of studying his own things.

“I’m sorry,” You apologized after getting a question wrong, noting that the clock on the wall read 5 pm. “We can stop now.”

Yoongi quirked his head, “Why?”

“I’ve taken up your whole day.” You sighed.

“I told you I didn’t mind.”

“Yeah, i know...” you trailed off, still unsatisfied. A silence ensued as you cursed your own selfishness and began to pack your things back up while Yoongi remained still.

“Treat me, then.” His comment made you pause.

“What?”

“If you feel that bad,” He reasoned, following your actions and packing up before sending you a grin, “go to dinner with me.”

Your eyes grew wide at the suggestion, heat flaring up inside you. Gathering your bearings, you did your best to appear unaffected though from the way Yoongi smirked, you knew it was already too late. “Is this your way of asking me out on a date?”

“No,” he replied teasingly, “i’m pretty sure I only asked you to treat me.”

Your face dropped into a frown. Hoisting your backpack up, you brushed past him to the door of the group study room muttering, “I can see why you and Taehyung are friends now.”

A throaty chuckle sounded behind you and you couldn’t help the corners of your mouth from upturning ever so slightly.

“You're joking right?” Digging your chin into your jacket, your eyes danced over neon lights, flashing from every direction. The street was crowded, which made sense considering the time. Some people rushed through, while others doddled along gazing at each sign as they passed various vendors. The unmistakable scent of food wafted toward you, making your mouth salivate. “You could have picked an actual restaurant; i’m not that cheap.”

“I never said you were. I happen to love street food, thanks.” Yoongi grinned at you, scarf muffling his words a little. Like many others, his catlike eyes scanned each stall, a playful expression on his face as he lurched down the road. “Besides, if we went to a restaurant people might mistake this as a date and think im an ass for not paying.”

“When are you going to stop teasing me about that?!” You elbowed him in the side, the redness in your cheeks only accentuating your pout as you muttered, “Any girl would make the same mistake.”

A small laugh left his lips, making your stomach flutter, “C’mon.”

A gust of wind brushed your back, sending a chill down your spine. “Are you sure you don't want to go to a restaurant?”

“Positive,” He immediately responded, his face brightening when he found the stall he’d been looking for. “They have all my favourites here.”

“But, it’s cold out here.” You whined.

A look of realization crossed his features, his eyes scanning your figure which was nearly folding in on itself to contain some warmth. Placing a hand on your arm to stop you, he replied, “Wait here for a sec.”

Confused, you watched as he turned his back on you and headed down one of the various streets. Standing awkwardly on the pavement, you itched to follow him, but obeyed anyway. Pulling your hands together in front of your mouth, you breathed into them. A split second of bliss graced them before disappearing, leaving you to rub them against one another vigorously to try and keep a fraction of that warmth. So focused on your task, you almost didn’t notice when he reappeared in front of you, his hand full of something you couldn't quite make out. The palms of your hands stopped their rubbing motions as his hand grabbed yours and pulled it toward him. Placing a squishy package in your hand, he reached into his pocket to pull out another as warmth bloomed in your palm. Cracking the pack, he handed the other one over, “Put those ones in your shoes.”

It was then that you realized you’d been staring at him, dumbfounded. Snapping yourself out of it, you nodded numbly. Crouching, you lifted the tongue of each sneaker, shoving the hot packs in one by one. Wiggling your toes, you relished in the warmth before rising up to your feet. While you’d been doing what you were told, Yoongi pulled two more out and burst the bubble in each. Slender fingers grabbed your hands, placing the packs in your palms before curling them over yours to make your hand into a fist. Taking hold of your wrists, he pushed your hands into your pockets while you stood like a mannequin, letting him control you. Reaching up, he unraveled his scarf from around his neck, the bottom half of his face revealing itself. Zipping up his coat to the top, he gently curled his scarf around your neck, the pads of his fingers brushing against your skin faintly. Eyes studying the fabris, he only ceasing his fiddling with his when he was happy with how it encased you.

“Yoongi,” you began to protest, only for him to cut your words short.

“Better?”

Nodding in response, you bit your lip hesitantly, “But what about you?’

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll be fine.” Again at the mention of your name, your heart seemed to press forward against your ribs, only swelling when he gave you a reassuring smile that made his eyes crinkle. “Let's go eat.”

Though you hated to admit it, you were thankful to Taehyung. After that night of eating and talking about random things, Yoongi started to become someone you saw frequently in your life. It would be a little bold to call you friends, but more accurate to say you were a smidge more than study buddies. Pulling out textbooks and going through notes together became a weekly thing, sometimes more depending on how much work you had. Just the same as the first time, Yoongi was patient with you. After a few weeks, he even started to ask you questions to about classes he found more difficult even if it wasn't something you took either. He claimed he just needed a different perspective, which you were eager to provide seeing as your mark in the class you shared had gone up by a whopping 10 percent since he’d begun helping you. You found it regretful though that you couldn't be of more help. It’d been two months since the two of you started hanging around each other and though you were happy to have him around, you couldn't help but feel frustrated.

The more time you spent with him, the more you ached to know him on a deeper level. You weren't new to relationships, but you'd never really been this curious about someone. Time would slow when you weren’t with him, a yearning to be in his presence gradually growing until he took up most of your thoughts. Daydreams danced in your head about whether he was a good kisser, if he’d turn out like every other guy you’d eventually grown bored with, and what kind of person he was under his guarded exterior. If you were honest, you felt pathetic that you were in college and some guy who had never even kissed you, let alone touch you in a way that wasn't an accidental brush of the skin, had this effect on you. But you also craved to learn what it would feel like if he did.

Somewhere among your studying and coffee runs, you’d made it your goal to satiate your curiosity. You didn’t aim so high as to date, just to hook up at least once. However, only disappointment greeted you. Not once had he ever made a move to touch you. Occasionally there were flirtatious jabs, but never anything more. Eventually, you started to wonder if maybe you just weren’t his type and the girls who seemed to hover and whisper all around you were.

Whenever you were with the man, hushed voices followed. You knew what they were wondering; why was he hanging out with you so much? Were you dating? What made you so different? Sometimes you’d chuckle, earning a confused glance from Yoongi which you’d always brush off. Other times you’d find yourself moping because they were far from the truth. Right now, it was the latter.

“Did you see that chick who left Yoongi's dorm yesterday morning?” Jimin, one of Taehyungs friends, questioned your circle of friends sitting at a table in the cafeteria.

“No,” Taehyung replied, quickly trying to divert the conversation to spare you while Luna and Haerin snuck worried glances your way, “where is he and Namjoon anyway?”

Jimin shrugged, “Yoongi sent me a text at 4 this morning so Namjoon is probably trying to wake him up.”

“Do you mean that girl who was sitting on the curb?” Jungkook piped up, earning a glare from Taehyung whose efforts were thwarted, though he didn't seem to notice.

“Sitting on the curb?” Jin asked.

“Yeah,” Jungkook nodded, shoveling the last few pieces of a pancake into his mouth, “I think she was waiting for a cab.”

“Yeah that one,” Jimin nodded while Jin muttered about how rude it was to make her wait outside, “do you think he’d mind if I asked for her number?”

“Does he ever?” Taehyung huffed, discreetly placing a comforting hand on your own, which you’d absentmindedly curled into a ball, under the table. Taking a breath and shoving the fruit on your plate around, you implored yourself to relax. Why do I even care? I’m just a person he studies with.

“That’s true,” Jimin nodded. “She was really hot though.”

“Do you really have to talk about this with us here?” Luna barked from beside you, annoyance making her eyebrows bunch.

Jimin glanced at her sheepishly and scratched the back of his head. “Sorry, I just didn’t think it was a problem seeing as we have before.”

“It’s annoying.” She was relentless. “It’s not like I gab about my latest conquests.”

“Bullshit,” Taehyung quickly rebuked, his hand becoming tighter on yours, “you constantly talk about your boyfriend.”

Luna’s mouth dropped. “That’s different!”

“It’s not.”

“Yes, it is!”

Bickering ensued from each side of you, causing you to slump in your chair, rolling your eyes. Ignoring the war raging on, Jungkook nodded his head toward the door, speaking directly to jimin, “If you still want to, here’s your chance.”

Instantly your eyes shifted to the direction he motioned to, spotting a groggy Yoongi shuffling behind Namjoon like a zombie. Panic and dread consumed you. All you wanted to do was disappear, embarrassed at how much you’d lusted over someone who clearly wasn't interested. Before his irises could meet yours, you stood from your chair. The abruptness of your movement made the chair squeal as it skid against the floor, drawing the tables attention to you.

“I forgot something in my dorm.” You muttered quietly, pivoting on your heel to rush through the door on the other side of the room, opposite from the one Yoongi had arrived in.

“Wait, Y/N!” Haerin exclaimed, rising from her own seat with a worried expression.

“Yeah, we’ll come!” Luna chimed in, her spat with Taehyung forgotten.

You didn’t slow for them, focused on reaching the hallway before the green monster hiding out on your back was discovered by the one person who was the source of it. You cursed yourself over and over again in your head. This feeling of being at someone else's mercy was something you loathed. It was something every person would experience at least once in their life; you knew this. But it didn’t make it any easier when it happened. Feeling small and insecure, the insults directed to yourself spewed from your brain. You’d thought you’d grown past this and had learnt to not fall too deep before anything had ever even happened. Apparently you had been wrong.

The tapping of two pairs of feet caught up with you. Luna remarked once her and Haerin were by your side, “What assholes.”

“They didn’t do anything.” You replied before letting out a sigh. “I didn’t want him to see me is all. I feel so stupid.”

“Y/N,” Haerin frowned, “you can’t help liking someone.”

“I know.” You agreed. “I just don’t understand why it upset me and I hate that i’m mad when I literally have no reason to be. It’s not like we even had a thing, y’know? I just carried on one sidedly and got ahead of myself.”

The girls stayed silent by your side, nodding while Luna patted your shoulder. They didn't defend you because in all honesty, you really had just gotten ahead of yourself. “It’s okay to just really want someones dick sometimes.”

“Luna!” Haerin chided while you burst into a laugh, breaking the solemn atmosphere.

“What? Its true and she hasn’t had any lately.” Luna reasoned, putting her chin in her hand like she was thinking. “Maybe it was just that he’s hot and you’re horny and y’know, pheromones and stuff.”

“That is true.” You quirked your head contemplatively.

“I have an idea!” Haerin interjected. “That guy with the long hair and is really annoying said his frat house is having a party tonight.”

“I forgot about that!” Luna exclaimed excitedly. “Lets go get drunk, forget about Yongle or whatever,” you couldn’t help but snort, “and maybe even land you a guy for the night to work out all this frustration!”

“Well?” Haerin looked at you optimistically. Right after she’d mentioned getting drunk you knew you’d go, but you played it like you weren’t sure. A hopeful silence paused the conversation for a moment, before a grin stretched across your lips and you nodded. The girls by your side nearly shouted with enthusiasm, hooking their arms with yours while you giggled and outsiders rolled their eyes at your groups antics.

The day seemed to drag, as it always did. However, today it was almost like someone had hit rewind, each time you looked at the clock feeling like a punch in the gut. All you wanted was to go home, beat your face, and get drunk with the people who loved you. As time ticked away, you did start to feel better. You credited this to Luna’s explanation. After all, your initial attraction to Yoongi, who you avidly avoided for the remainder of the day, was purely physical. Granted, you had grown interested in him, but it wasn’t like you were in love. Looking back at the days you’d spent in his company, your mind analyzed every second, coming up with reasons why your body reacted to him or why your mind became goo. In short, you chalked it up as lust, telling yourself that you would’ve felt the same way with any attractive guy with how long it’d been since you’d been intimate with a person. By the time the clock struck half past 3, you’d successfully convinced yourself that Yoongi hadn’t actually upset you, your hormones had.

Feeling confident again, there was a spring in your step as you trotted down the halls. Outfit choices and makeup selections swiped through your thoughts, anticipation bubbling as you thought about the night to come. All your musings clouded your senses. So much so, you didn’t notice when Taehyung waltzed up beside you and threaded his arm through yours.

“Holy shit!” A squeal erupted from your lips, your free hand coming to clutch your chest.

“Hi,” Taehyung grinned, not bothering to conceal his satisfaction with startling you.

“You scared the crap out of me, Tae.” Loosening the hold on your chest, you punched him on the arm, though a good natured smile coated your mouth.

“Sorry, sorry,” He apologized, though you knew from the giggles that he didn’t mean it in the slightest. “What are you doing tonight? Wanna grab a bite and see a horror movie?”

“Tempting,” The hand you hit him with rested on his forearm, giving him a little squeeze of appreciation. Without saying anything, you knew he was worried about you. This morning you knew he’d felt guilty about what had happened from the seven messages he’d sent asking you if you were alright. Even though you’d reassured him every time, his actions were a testament to the kind of friend he was to you. He refused to cease his pestering until he was positive that there wasn’t a hint of sadness lingering inside your heart. “I can’t though. I’m going to a party in that one frat house on the corner.”

“You are?” He feigned vexation. “Why wasn’t I invited?!”

A shrug from you jostled your knotted arms, “I just hadn’t seen you yet.”

“Well, I’m coming. I won't breathe a word to He Who Shall Not Be Named.” He reassured you and drew his vacant arm up to draw a cross over his heart. “Scouts honor.”

Snorting at his reference, you shook your head indifferently, “It’s fine. I don’t care if he’s there.”

Taehyungs eyes became slivers, lips forming an ‘n’ from his skepticism. “Yeah, okay.”

Laughing at his distorted face, you rebutted, “I honestly don’t!”

“Alright,” he acknowledged, though the suspicion he exuded didn’t fade.

Opening the exit doors, you shivered and let your grasp on your friend slacken as you prepared to head your separate ways. Starting on the path to your respective home, you walked backwards so you still faced Taehyung. “Come to my dorm at nine-ish, okay? We’ll sneak you in to pregame.”

Instead of replying, he merely shot you a thumbs up and a smile, zipping up his coat to the top and jogging off down the sidewalk. Turning around, you shoved your hands in your pockets, the memory of that first night with Yoongi flashing in your mind briefly before you forced it back into the vault of things you would rather ignore. Sighing wistfully, you carried yourself down the path, your previous daydreams coming back to life as the cold air nipped at you through your jacket.

The party was like any other frat party you’d been to; cramped, loud, and vaguely smelling like something that had been left out to rot. You didn't mind much though, the alcohol in your bloodstream making all that seem somehow pleasant. Your vision was slightly blurred, though you were very much coherent. The taste of smoke lingered in your mouth even after you took a swig of your drink, head bobbing to the music while musing about everything and nothing.

As promised, Taehyung had joined in on the fun. Accompanying the three of you and declaring himself your honorary bodyguard of the night after he was a few beers in. However, you knew he wouldn’t be a very good one seeing as though he tried his best, his attention always seemed to swerve off in the direction of Luna. He meant well, but he was a flirty guy and she was what he liked. You could see them on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall, Taehyung grinning like he’d won a prize as Luna tossed her head back as she laughed. A small smile graced your lips. They’re cute.

Haerin was still by your side though, a slightly sour look on her face because ‘she already has a boyfriend and this is supposed to be girls night, so what the fuck?’ You had patted her shoulder sympathetically when you heard the stinging in her words and muttered a short reassurance that it was okay. Watching the dynamic play out, worry tugged at your mind, knowing that something more was going on and that you should probably address it. But fuck it. You were the one who was supposed to be comforted tonight for your brief and bizarre lapse in judgement. The weird love triangle wait for another day.

After successfully drawing her attention away from your two best friends, the two of you knocked cups, vowing to find a good lay for the night and downing the burning liquid. Since then, the pair of you milled about, giggling to each other as you scouted for candidates. Bouncing around, there were a few guys who interested you, stopping to chat and lay down some ground work to give yourself options as everyone did in college. However, even as you smiled sweetly and laughed at their mediocre jokes, your mind always seemed to revert to the fact that they weren't who you really wanted. And yet, you trudged on, giving out sly touches and coy glances all the while ignoring the nagging sensation burning at the back of your brain.

“I have to go to the washroom.” Haerin leaned in close to tell you after a while. Shuffling to the stairs, you assured her that you’d be fine waiting on the main level for her, not wanting to fight your way through the throngs of people unnecessarily.

And so, here you were. Back against the wall with the rim of your cup touching your bottom lip, you fiddled with the hem of your long sleeve crop top that you’d paired with a faux suede skirt despite the chilly weather. Taking a moment for yourself, you noted that Taehyung and Luna weren’t where they had been before. Tugging out your phone that you’d tucked into the pocket of your oversized jean jacket for safekeeping, you shot Taehyung a quick text asking where he was and letting him know where you were. Storing your phone back away, you glanced up the stairs as it had been a little while. Wondering what was taking so long, you shifted your weight from foot to foot impatiently. A few minutes passed. Then another few. And another. When you were nearing the 20 minute mark and the end of your rope, you heaved a sigh, coming to the conclusion that she’d either met someone or had been dragged off by someone else. Resigning yourself to having to play mom and find her, you were just about to start your search when you heard a familiar voice rasp, “hey.”

All the warmth that had accumulated in you seemed to seep out of every pore, your eyes growing wide as you swiveled your head toward the intruder. Drooping, ink eyes captured your, a telltale glaze across them that made him look spaced out though he was looking right at you. You gave him a once over, his black jeans sticking close to him while his grey shirt and plaid combo did the opposite. Clearing your throat a little, your eyes raked back up to his, your indifferent facade cracking when you spotted a knowing smirk on his lips. Moving the plastic cup away from your mouth, you spoke as you always did to him,“hey.”

“You ran away this morning.” He stated.

“Ah,” a blush touched your cheeks, “I forgot my notebook in my dorm.”

He nodded but his features displayed something akin to disappointment, stepping closer when someone grazed his back. “You seemed like you were in a hurry.”

You could smell the lingering scent of beer wafting toward you when he spoke, “I didn’t want to be late.”

He quirked a brow, never being one to fall for someone's bullshit. “Y/N, you’re late everyday.”

“Am not,” you quipped back though the corner of your mouth betrayed you by curling upward. “I didn’t know you kept a record of my attendance.”

He chuckled lowly, “I don’t, but it’s hard not to notice when Taehyung seems to vibrate like a puppy when you come in.”

A laugh tumbled out of you at that, the mental image appearing behind your eyes. Yoongi grinned back, a hand coming out to rest on your lower back, tugging you closer as someone tried to get by the two of you. The giggling died down as his hand felt like it was scorching through your jacket. Your chests were only a small distance away now and you found yourself absentmindedly leaning in closer to his warmth. That tug in your chest roaring to life and inching you closer. Eyes meeting his, the smile he’d worn had dissipated into a line. He didn’t remove his hand completely, but instead let it drift to the hem of your skirt. Skin skimmed your thigh as he fingered the fabric, his expression one you’d never seen him with before, but tantalizing all the same. A flash of pink wet his lip, voice low when he spoke, “You look good.”

“Thanks.” A current of titillation shocked your core, rendering yourself unable to say anything more than that. Dark irises fluttered between your lips and eyes, the distance between you carving away. However, as soon as he leaned down just enough to grant you vision behind him, you spotted Jimin talking to some blonde in the corner. Immediately the anticipation that was threatening to boil over, died down into a faint ripple. Before you could catch yourself, you muttered, “You really are good, aren’t you?”

Halting, Yoongi’s brow furrowed in confusion. Straightening, he looked lost as he replied, “good at what?”

But you never got to reply, a voice interrupting you, “Min Yoongi!”

Recognizing the deep tone which belonged to Taehyung, the pair of you shot apart, your skin mourning when Yoongi's no longer graced yours. Yoongi put on an impressively bored face, looking behind you at your sloppy friend who trudged over to throw an arm over you. “What?”

“Ugh,” you winced, attempting to shove Taehyungs hand off your shoulder. “Tae, you reek of booze.”

“Sorry, some guy spilled a full beer on me,” he gazed down at you apologetically, before sharpening his eyes and glaring at Yoongi, making you want to shrink and hide. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

“Me?” Yoongi asked, bewildered. “No? Why would I?”

It was silent for a second as Taehyung glowered at him. “Well, whatever. You’re not allowed to hang out with Y/N today. So sorry. Go hang out with that chick from the other night.”

Yoongi’s head cocked to the side, “Who?”

“You know who!” Taehyung exclaimed, drunkenly pushing a finger into his friends chest. Yoongi glanced at you for help, but all you could do was stare down at the ground mortified. In any other situation, you probably would’ve keeled over laughing at Taehyung’s grandpa act. Now? Not so much. I’m going to kill him. “The one Jimin wanted to know about this morning. Go hang with her, Y/N is mine tonight.”

“Taehyung!” Smacked him in the chest at his suggestive words. “Can you not say it like that?!”

Taehyungs bottom lip jutted out, pouting while Yoongi started to put pieces together. “Wait, you mean that one?”

He pointed at the girl Jimin was with.

“Yeah! Jimin wouldn’t shut up about her all morning, saying how hot she was and that he had to ask you for her number and blah, blah, blah.” With each new word that Taehyung spat out, the more you wished you could just run away, praying that Yoongi wouldn’t connect the dots.

“Tae, where is Luna?” You asked, trying to make an escape route before it went any further.

“I left her on the porch because I saw you and Yoongi through the window. Why?”

“Is that why you avoided me today?” It was like someone dumped ice on you, your jaw clenching and your eyes catching Yoongi’s, realization shining in their depths.

“Of course it’s not,” Taehyung replied, inadvertently outing you. “Idiot--”

“Taehyung!” The sound of Lunas garbled speech rang in your ears. Turning to the sound of her voice, she stumbled toward your group, bumping into almost every person.

“Oh, Christ.” You muttered.

“I forgot to say,” Taehyung murmured beside you, “She’s kinda really drunk.”

“No shit.” You replied, catching Lunas arm as she neared you and dragging her toward you.

“Y/N!” She grinned while swaying in your grasp, untroubled by her own level of intoxication. Yawning once, she rubbed her eyes and slurred, “What time is it?”

“It’s late,” You lied; it was only 1 am. “Wanna go?”

She nodded while Taehyung let go of you to swing her arm over his shoulder for support, his hand gripping her waist tightly to keep her steady. “I’ll take her outside.”

“Okay,” you replied, moving her hair out of her face and resisting the overwhelming urge to take a picture as her head lolled back. “I’ll find Haerin, but don’t leave without me, okay?”

Taehyung nodded, his own drunken stupor seeming to have worn off a bit due to the situation. Surging forward, you watched as Taehyung did his best to usher her toward the door. Luna wasn’t a big help though, stopping every few seconds to talk to someone and telling Taehyung to slow down. Yoongi's hand encasing your wrist diverted your attention away.

Oh yeah, the conversation you’d been having, or rather he and Taehyung had been having, coming back to mind, that. Dread consumed you, glancing at him unwillingly. He jutted his chin toward the staircase. “Come with me for a minute.”

He didn't seem to notice the reluctance in your voice when you responded, “Okay.”

Tugging, he lead you through the crowd, cutting a path for you as he weaved. Most people parted for him on the staircase as he guided you up, glancing back to make sure you were okay every few seconds. However, a few grumbled in annoyance when he bumped shoulders with them or interrupted a couple from more intimate activities. As always, he paid no mind to other people's opinions and simply put on his icy stance that he used with most anyone who was a stranger. Not rude, but more apathetic. Reaching the top, he took you down the hallway. He didn’t stop at the first few doors, but instead waited until you neared the back of the large house to start jiggling handles and peeking inside rooms for occupants. Once he found an empty one, he pulled you inside, closing the door and latching the lock.

Letting go of your wrist, you smoothed the palms of your hands on your skirt. Much to your own dismay, he still made you giddy, something each guy downstairs had failed to do. You found yourself tracking his movements and studying them so closely that your resolution that he was just some guy you wanted to fool around with wavered. Clasping your digits together in front of you, you tried to slow your pounding heart, hoping Yoongi wouldn't notice how tense you were. The room was quiet, only the muffled sounds of the party filling the silence.

“I never took you as the jealous type.” A vivid shade of red dusted your cheeks at his words.

“I’m not.” You replied, refusing to let yourself slip and put yourself in a vulnerable position.

Yoongi stepped toward you, gently reaching out to tuck away a stray strand of hair behind your ear before shoving his hands in his pockets. Locking eyes, you struggled to tell what he was thinking, which you assumed was something about you completely and utterly embarrassing yourself in front of him multiple times. “So, that’s not why you left the table this morning a half hour before class started?”

“I told you I forgot my notebook.” It was apparent that your excuse wasn’t going to appease him this time around by the tired look he gave you. Sighing, you crossed your arms and admitted a portion of the truth, “I also didn’t want to hear about your new notch. Satisfied?”

“A little.” He shrugged, a small triumphant grin adorning his lips. “Although, you probably should’ve stuck around.”

“What do you mean?” You replied, a little annoyed by how cryptic he was being, wishing that he would just be blunt like he usually was.

“If you’d stayed, you’d know that I never slept with her.” He explained. “Namjoon did.”

“Oh,” was all you could say, though a heavy sense of relief that you didn’t quite understand made you feel warm. Before you knew it, a smile crept up on your lips. You tried to quell it at soon as you’d noticed by biting the inside of your cheek.

“Satisfied?” He repeated after you.

Peering at him sheepishly through your lashes, you nodded. You did your best not to quake from the way he glanced down at you, a little smug. The wall you usually encountered was no longer present, like he was choosing to allow you even the smallest access. The unabashed lust in his irises set you at ease, knowing he felt even a fraction of the attraction that you did. Distantly, you pondered whether this was all apart of his deck of cards, though you couldn’t really bring yourself to care. If it was, it was a damn good card and you weren't a sore loser. At least, not right now. Feeling foolhardy from your previous actions, you couldn’t help but spill the truth now, if anything just to explain why you’d acted so rash, “you know, I’m usually not like this.”

“Like what?” He said lowly as you unfolded your arms and reached out to grab hold of the edges of his plaid shirt.

“This shaken up by someone,” feeling a little more calm now from talking about how you were feeling as you fiddled with the fabric, you steeled yourself and took the first step as you edged him closer. “There’s something about you that makes me so annoyingly interested in you. Usually, I’m much more of a casual person about this stuff and not quite so--”

“Jealous?” He smirked.

“No, I don’t like that word.” You scrunched your nose, bodies just about touching while Yoongi let you drag him in, hands still in his pockets. “More like… eager.”

“That’s too bad.” He rasped.

“Why is that?” His hand slid out of his right pocket to toy with the band of your skirt.

“I liked watching you act like you didn’t care.”

“Why? You like it when girls act cold to you?” You teased.

“No,” he grinned devilishly, making your core tighten. “It just means I can have more fun with you.”

Your breathing was heavy with need, as he hooked a surprisingly cold finger into the band he’d been playing with and coaxed you forward to close whatever remained of the gap between you. Lips pillowed yours in a short kiss before coming back for more. His hand slowly creeping to your back, one finger still underneath the fabric of your skirt. Pecks became fervent, gradually getting longer and longer in duration. Frustration started to build up as he moved away whenever you thought you were going to get more. Eventually, you couldn’t stand it anymore, reaching up and grasping the collar of his shirt with one hand while the other encased the side of his neck, wrenching him down to you. The rumble of a laugh tickled your lips as he slid out his other hand from his pocket and let it join the other. Electricity seemed to dance through your body, lighting you up with pleasure when his tongue finally swiped along your bottom lip. You were quick to grant him access as a hand slid lower on your body to caress the top of your butt cheek. Keening when his tongue met yours in a play for power, you wound your digits into his hair. Soft strands fluttered against your skin. The hand on your ass inched lower, squeezing hard in time with the motions of your mouths and pressing you against his groin. Fingers tightened their hold on his hair in response, making him grunt. He was mistaken if he thought you were one to be obedient.

Sliding your hands down to his chest, you maintained the kiss as you backed him toward the bed. When his knees knocked yours, you broke away from him, a smirk on your face as you pushed him backwards onto the mattress. Leering at you slyly, he waited patiently for you to crawl on top of him, kissing his body over the fabric of his shirt on your way up to his lips. Settling down on his lap, you felt yourself clench when his hard-on pressed against your center. Lips touched his once before kissing down into his neck. You quickly gathered that Yoongi wasn’t a very vocal partner, which honestly you could have deduced just from the way he is in everyday life. Sucking on the skin under his jaw, you knew you found his sweet spot when he clenched his jaw, suppressing a moan. Smiling to yourself, you increased your pressure, forcing the blood toward the surface of his skin to create a nice plum blemish on his porcelain skin tone. Slowly, you began to rock yourself back and forth over his jeans, your underwear bunching and rubbing against your core. Hearing his breathing growing laboured, you sped up, grinding down harder on him. His head tilted to the side, giving you more space to work with, moving to create another mark that would show that he was yours, if only for tonight. Hands stroked your bare thighs as you shimmied a hand under his shirt, climbing higher up your legs before delving to your backside. With every motion you made, you felt his torso clench with pleasure, resisting the urge to rut up into you. Flipping up your skirt, his hands clutched your flesh so hard that you were sure he’d leave behind marks of his own. Helping your motions, you mewled into his neck after a particularly harsh squeeze, to which his shaft twitched. Your fingers traced down his abdomen to the waist of his jeans. Just as you freed the button from its confines, the jingle of your phone sounded from your jacket pocket.

Stilling above him, you swore. Letting your weight rest in his lap, you rooted around in your pocket for the device, grimacing when you saw Haerin’s name on the screen. Accepting the call, you muttered a curt, “Hello?”

“Hey, where are you?” The skin of your lips was pinched by your teeth as Yoongi drew shapes on your inner thigh.

“I’m, um,” you had to pause to keep yourself from moaning when Yoongi wriggled below you, a dark look daring you to continue. Clearing your throat you placed a hand on his chest, digging your nails in to the fabric as a warning, though he merely smirked and continued drawing on your legs. “I’m upstairs. Why?”

“Oh, fuck, are you with a guy?” Haerin asked, to which you simply hummed in confirmation. Yoongi suddenly sat up, his lips brushing over your collar bones making your thoughts fuzzy as you tired your best to focus on your conversation with Haerin. “I’m sorry Y/N, I’d handle it by myself but I can’t take care of both Tae and Luna.”

A faint sense of worry invaded your bubble of pleasure, one of Yoongi's hands pressing you closer to him by the small of your back. “What happened? They were fine when I saw them.”

“They passed out on the lawn.”

Yoongi paused his ministrations, hearing Haerin’s words too. Heaving a sigh, you placed a hand on his shoulder and lifted yourself off of him to stand. “Alright, i’ll be down in a sec.”

Ending the call, you fixed your skirt and hair while Yoongi buttoned his pants. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Yoongi reassured you, smoothing his collar and rubbing your lipstick off his neck. “I’ll take Taehyung home.”

“Thanks.” You giggled when you saw the traces of your lips staining his own. Licking your thumb, you gently rubbed the color away, teasing, “that’s a nice color on you.”

“You think?” He raised an eyebrow, catching your hand and swooping in to kiss you, replacing the color you wiped away. “I’d better keep it on then.”

You laughed and turned to the door, Yoongi’s fingers lacing together with yours. Each of you exited the room, faces still a little flushed while adorning grins. Yoongi stroked his thumb against yours, keeping you close as people glanced at you two and proceeded to whisper. You didn’t care though, still a little drunk off Yoongi's touch. Reaching the staircase, Yoongi speculated, “So how much you wanna bet that he threw up?”

“Oh, I don’t need to bet on that.”

#bts smut #Bts scenarios #yoongi scenarios #bts imagines #yoongi imagine #suga #suga imagine #suga scenario #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #suga fanfic #Yoongi

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sylvinargentina · 6 years ago

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Iguazu Falls - Argentina and Brazil

Amanda and I woke up early this morning (6:45a Amanda’s favorite) to get a jump start on the park since we had 2 more circuits to do. Had breakfast 7-7:45 and walked into the park from the hotel. Passing signs saying park open 8-6 leave hotel property at your own risk outside of those times, since it was a few min early they hadn’t removed the signs yet.

We did the upper loop first since we heard the first train to the second loop doesn’t leave until 8:45 from the station, thinking we’d catch the 2nd one (one train every 30 min).

The upper loop circuit is a one way loop and we were the first in with only one couple from the hotel a little ways behind us. Empty!!! The perks of staying in the park. On this route we were on top of the waterfalls we saw last night. And we saw a different animal - coatimundis (some kind of raccoon according to Google) - see picture.

Once we finished this route we headed to the train station for the next circuit. We were told we had to get a ticket before getting on the train. The ticket guy said the next train available was 10:10... more than an hour away... even though the next actual train was at 9:10 and there was a train every 30. The whole round trip was supposed to be an hour and a half including the walk to the falls and train both ways... that would be cutting it close to our 12:30 checkout and taxi. But what could we do, they at least said we could take any train back and they were every 15 min. So we took the 10:10 ticket. As the train arrived I saw a 5 person tour group who I knew was on the 9:40 train ask if there was room on the 9:10... so I rushed over with Amanda and asked if there were two more seats. We got on!!! We weren’t sitting together but we were on!

A nice slow little ride, we could have walked it too but it would have taken a lot longer. Because this was only the 2nd train of the day, the walk and falls had a small amount of people around us.

The Garganta Del Diablo (Devil’s throat) falls were incredible to see! Powerful and definitely sprayed us. As you can see with the splotches on the camera lense on my face in this picture. It was a lot of fun!

Once back to the train station we saw another ticket booth... knowing from before we asked and one guy said we needed a ticket... but the actual ticket guy said we didn’t. So we went to sit down on a bench on the train platform. A conductor came over for the train that just arrived and asked if we had tickets...ugh!!! When we said we were going to the middle train stop he also said we couldn’t take this train we had to take the next one anyway. We were very confused and I was getting a little frustrated. So I told Amanda to wait on the bench while I went back to the ticket boot. Still the ticket guy said I didn’t need a ticket. I insisted, instead he gave two to another couple going to the same place... then finally after insisting like 3 more times that we needed the same tickets he just gave the couple he finally gave me two tickets for the next train. Phew... but annoying!

Because Amanda was sitting on the platform I got through the ropes they had put up for the other passengers and sat with her. So we got on the train first, got seats together, and got back to our hotel about 25 min later.

We had about an hour+- before our Taxi. So Amanda chilled in the room and I hung out at the pool . Then we finished packing and our taxi arrived to take us to the Brazil side. Sadly, no boat trip because they were all sold out and timing didn’t work out well. But means I have something to do next time.

They have two control points along the boarder one in the Argentina side and one on the Brazil side. The Argentina side was just like a normal toll booth. The taxi driver handed him a piece of paper with our information she wrote from our documents. Then the Brazil side we had to get out and go into a building. No line so we were quickly helped and quickly on our way to the hotel in Brazil.

Once at our hotel in Brazil we got situated in our room and headed out to lunch at a buffet a block away. It wasn’t a memorable meal but it was 2p after a 7am breakfast and walking so I was hungry!

After we went to the bus stop to catch the bus (2 blocks from the hotel). But we weren’t sure how to get tickets and after 15 min the bus hadn’t shown. So we decided to try Uber, since the guy at the hotel desk suggested it. But neither of us could use the app... it kept giving us errors... more reasons not to use it. So we got a taxi. The guy spoke some English but more Spanish so we figured out communicating somehow. When he dropped us off at the entrance to the Brazil side of the park and he said he’d come back at a time we asked for (4:45p because we thought the park closed at 5p) and said we could pay after for round trip. VERY TRUSTING! This gave us about an hour and a half (a little less) to do the 15+ min walk... or so I thought.

Once we bought tickets the park has double-decker (open top) buses to take you into the park. This drive not only was longer than I expected but it also had a few stops before the stop we wanted. So 30 min later we were finally at the start of the walk. Then the walk was also definitely longer than 15 min... ended up being about 40 min with us walking fast... :P

Still the sights on this side of Devil’s Throat were incredible too. Definitely more water on this side and the walkway that went across the cliff top gave great views and rainbows! (see pictures below, rainbow is in the third picture with the elevator)

We caught the elevator up (mostly saved for those with disabilities, see pic) to save ourselves time - there was no line or we wouldn’t have asked. We caught a bus perfect timing and ended up being only 10 min late to meet the taxi.

Got back to the hotel and had about 2.5 hours before going to see a dinner show. So Amanda hung out in the room and I went to the small pool to cool off. It started to sprinkle but luckily I was under an umbrella and already wet from swimming. Got ready back at the room before heading down to the hotel lobby to meet a car to the show at 8p. Of course right before leaving our room Amanda heard it pouring rain/thunder/lightning out so we luckily grabbed our jackets/umbrellas. This show was something I thought someone we met earlier in the trip suggested but it meant had no idea what to expect!

We arrived at a large hall with a lot of people and a lot of tables. People were clambering over buffet tables of food. It felt like a madhouse! For $84 for two of us we had a pretty good meal (good meat and pasta anyway) and an “interesting” show. It was, as Amanda put it, like somethings on fire and you can’t look away. Basically the show was showing 8 countries through dance... which as a concept is fun but it was definitely more about the costumes and flourish/flashy. Of the eight countries (seen in pic below) the music was picked based on country but not always played well and the dancing wasn’t always an original step vs just moving around and the costumes were definitely all over the top. I think the Tango (Argentina) part was the most interesting because they had 3 couples dispersed around the floor and dancing on a table, one couple was right next to us (picture). Overall, it definitely was a little over the top, but we had some laughs and at least had a meal.

Now back home and making sure we’re mostly packed as we head to Sao Paulo tomorrow... hopefully the forseen thunder storms won’t keep us from leaving...

#iguazú #iguazufalls #dinnershow #waterfalls #cataratas #rainbows #beautiful #argentina1

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idolizerp · 6 years ago

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LOADING INFORMATION ON NITRO’S MAIN VOCAL HA MINSOO...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: Min CURRENT AGE: 25 DEBUT AGE: 18 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 13 COMPANY: Koala.T SECONDARY SKILL: Acting

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S): “Minnie Mouse” - A result of Minsoo’s startled reaction to a prank during a variety show in his rookie years. The host’s witty comment had stuck to his image. That was back when he was freshly debuted and grasping for any sort of distinction. Now it’s more of an inside joke between older fans, but he’s still the highlight to every haunted house special, and he still obediently grins and dons a minnie mouse headband at every other fansign.

“Min-ergy” - He’s the mood-maker. The man with the brightest smile. The energizing force that drives conversations forward and fills in the awkward gaps.

“White Knight” - A fairly recent one that took off following a viral video of him “saving” his music show co-host from falling down the stairs. It’s suspected the nickname began as a mocking throwaway comment by an anon, but fans were quick to seize upon it and spin it into genuine praise. INSPIRATION: When asked, his greatest inspiration is trot singer Lee Mi-Ja. He says he grew up with his grandparents listening to her 24/7. He remembers being starstruck by her stage presence and may have had a little crush on her for most of his formative years. SPECIAL TALENTS:

His eye smile

Crying on demand

Making the soda bottle opening + pouring sound with his mouth

NOTABLE FACTS:

Appeared on the TV Show ‘Star King’ as the seven year old child who loved to sing trot

He used to be a somewhat well-known trainee at Midas, but got convinced to join Koala.T after uncertainty of his chances of debut

He is an only child, but has publicly lamented many times of this fact and has frequently restated his lifelong dream to be an older brother.

It takes him longer than most to memorize choreography, and his movements are notably more stiff than those with natural talent.

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

Minsoo wants to capitalize on his viral moment. He wants to ride the momentum into landing more roles in dramas. He wants to do well in them. Really well. Well enough to make every girl in the nation dream about him as their boyfriend. Minsoo wants Nitro to win a daesang. It might be unthinkable with where they are now, but who knows? Maybe after a stint in a successful drama or two… A couple ace comebacks… Anything can happen, and Minsoo’s nothing but ambitious.

LONG-TERM GOALS:

He predicts he’ll always be typecast for roles as the lovable nice guy due to his ironclad public image. He’s fine with that. If anything, that’s what he’s hoping for. The acting industry is saturated with rising talents, idol or otherwise. Minsoo’s planning on staying around for the long haul, and he’ll do so by carving out a niche that only he can occupy. He wants to be unforgettable. He wants to build a legacy. He wants to touch the ceiling then retire, gracefully, maybe to a house somewhere with the ocean right next door.

IDOL IMAGE

As far as Koala.T is concerned, there’s no such thing as a Nitro member with a bad personality. They’re the well-behaved, hardworking, “Oppa-I-hope-you-only-walk-the-flower-road” boys who fill their fans with purpose from rooting for the underdogs.

Minsoo falls in line seamlessly.

For the longest time, his company markets him as the bubbly, slightly ditzy, mischievous type who incites equal parts mirth and exasperation from his members. His youthful features and boyish grin practically seals the deal. Variety shows documenting the group’s lives would frame him as the funny “younger brother” in need of constant monitoring but also as the emotional center of the group, a sensitive soul who reveals through tears in the customary letter-reading segment that he just wants his brothers-in-arms to be happy and successful.

It works. More importantly, it sells. Fans scramble to bulk-buy albums and help fund their idols’ biggest dreams. Minsoo cries some more and chokes out in award speeches that none of this would have been possible without their precious Gens.

For the longest time, Minsoo’s content to play the role. Even when as the years add up, the role wraps tighter and tighter around his frame like a shirt that no longer fits, he’s fine with it. But it’s getting old. The same diamond-in-the-rough sob story loses its impact as Nitro crawls towards slow, yes, but respectable success.

So Minsoo refocuses his image.

He adjusts his actions and reactions from cute-younger-brother to charming-boy-next-door: less throwing pies and more baking pies to bring over to the next door neighbors.

An opportunity for that arrives in the form of a role as a long term host for MBC Music Premier. It there where he balances his bright stage-personality with dependable coordination into subject points and a tasteful back-and-forth dialogue with his co-host.

He painstakingly times the process to be as natural as possible, so that his fans comment on his maturity with appreciation rather than confusion.

But the transition is truly cemented when a stroke of luck lets Minsoo be a hero for a minute and have it get caught on camera. The drama-esque moment of him stopping his co-host’s fall circulates the internet and brushes the last specks of dust from his new image.

He’s never been one to waste opportunity. So Minsoo evolves. And he plans to keep on evolving.

IDOL HISTORY

Ha Minsoo is not a genius.

His parents are working-class citizens. His dad’s a salaryman and his mom’s a piano teacher. He grew up in a quiet seaside town where the doors and windows were always open and the grandparents all knew each other and the ocean lived right next door. He grew up listening to seagulls and trot music, sounds that seemed to permeate the air like the smell of smoke and seaweed.

Ha Minsoo is not a genius.

It’s just that when his grandma boils mackerel stew and the handheld radio crackles out the same music that’s been playing on repeat in this part of the countryside, Minsoo sings along.

And when the neighbor who came over for lunch mentions that she’s got a friend whose son is a PD in Seoul, that he’s looking for cute little kids who can sing or dance in front of a camera, Minsoo doesn’t recognize the sounds out of her mouth for what they were– the axis of his world shifting just so.

Ha Minsoo is not a genius.

But wrapped in a tuxedo, hair gelled back, and oversized microphone in hand, he becomes the seven year old trot prodigy, paraded around stage and showered with praise and applause. Standing there in the bright lights of the recording studio, he feels the ground beneath his feet start to move.

His parents feel it too.

His dad finally earns his work promotion, and the raise means the Ha family can move out of the country and into an apartment in the city. That’s also when the private lessons start. High off Minsoo’s 15 minutes of fame, they pay for a vocal trainer. It’ll all be worth it, they say, when Minsoo earns himself a lucrative career in the music industry.

The hours of practice only get longer once he starts middle school. While the bell at the end of the day signals all the other students to go to cram classes, Minsoo goes straight to the vocal studio to practice until the sun sets. If he ever held promise as a student, he wasn’t given the chance to find out. On the other hand, the relentless training starts to pay off. He wins community talent festivals, small neighborhood contests, and his instructor switches him permanently to modern music. Little by little, his efforts begin to reap results.

Ha Minsoo is not a genius.

He wrestles for every minuscule amount of improvement. He works twice as hard to close the gaps where natural talent might have filled, easily. He grows from the ground up with only two advantages: an early start and an ingrained understanding to never squander an opportunity.

When a Midas scout approaches him after a competition and hands him a business card, it feels like a sign that he’s on the right track. He sweats through auditions. Flubs the dance portion. Miraculously passes. Signs the contract and finds it curious that satisfaction feels less like a buoyancy and more like a weight settling on his shoulders. He’s not done yet. The real work starts here.

His adolescence passes by in a blur of trainee activities and last minute school obligations. He becomes relatively well-known in his company for his young age, pretty face, and the hours he would spend training into the night.

It’s a little creepy, one of the staff members mutters to another. It’s like he never leaves the building.

Look at his pale skin. / Practically translucent. / Like a ghost. / Does he have any friends?

He decides to learn how to mask his awkwardness with bravado. His irritation with kindness. He hides behind both like spear and shield. He pieces together how to talk with charisma by observing how the older trainees interact and listening into snatches of conversations.

The most popular point of discussion soon becomes rumors about Midas’ upcoming boy group. How many members? When’s the next evaluation? Who are they looking for?

Competition for the spots is violently fierce. There’s no one in the room who doesn’t want to debut. That’s why they’re here, at Midas Media, clawing and fighting to make it to the top. Minsoo gets so close, so close he can almost taste it. But in the end, he’s not enough (not old enough. not confident enough. not good enough at dancing.) Years of meticulous planning, of calculated sacrifice, of careful control crumble at his feet.

The results devastate him. Minsoo falls, hard, hits rock bottom and coughs up gravel.

He allows himself three panic attacks and two packs of cigarettes in total, (burned down to the filter without taking a drag, of course. He doesn’t need the nicotine, just the smoke that calms him).

Then he tenses his shoulders, picks himself up, and trains with nothing but cold ambition to drive him forward. It’s the most hollow he’s ever been: propelling himself into an uncertain future with no strategy, no plan b, and no clear goal in sight.

Breakthrough comes in the form of Koala.T Music.

The timing is perfect, with his Midas contract coming to a close and with little chance of a second boy group to be formed anytime soon. Minsoo switches companies. Koala.T is a new an unfamiliar environment, but it’s alright. He’s done this before. It’s easier to adapt this time around, and he knows now how to mold and shape his personality to be the person they need him to be.

Two more years of sweat drenched practice rooms and finally, finally he debuts.

The happily ever after is sweet but short-lived. As a rookie group, Nitro is faced with challenges almost right after the showcase stage. They now have to compete for the public’s affection with dozens of other idols all vying for the spotlight. The cut-throat competition, the ladder climbing, none of that changes. But while others might hate the pressure, Minsoo enjoys it. He savors every step forward because he believes every inch of progress is the culmination of his efforts.

He doesn’t mind the wait.

2015 seems to be the year where everything rolls into motion. Nitro’s slow and steady rise to popularity breaks into their first music show win. Minsoo even lands a supporting role in a rom-com drama by a screenwriter with a solid track history, an rare opportunity for an idol of his standing with only years of company sponsored acting training under his belt.

While it’s by no means easy, Minsoo finds that he takes to acting faster than choreography. His performance is especially aided by the fact that he’s playing a role similar to the one he already plays as Min from Nitro. Just a few extra tweaks, an adjustment here and there, and it’s essentially a different form of the same familiar mask.

The drama earns respectable ratings and the ground beneath Minsoo’s feet moves once more.

It’s just enough momentum to push forward his acting career, albeit slowly in the form of more supporting roles. But this realization comes at the same time Nitro is just beginning to gain traction, and Koala.T pushes to present the group as a united front of underdogs. A front that would break if one member begins to gain attention disproportionately to the rest, especially in a side job.

They tell him to wait, so Minsoo waits. He promotes diligently with his members and spends the rest of his time polishing his clean image and practicing his acting. He keeps his plans for the future close to his chest.

In 2018 a viral moment gives his public personality an electric boost. That combined with Nitro’s continued steady ascent gives Minsoo the agency to start setting his sights on acting again. He’s cast in an idol-driven drama, this time as a lead, and just glancing at the character description fills him with anticipation.

This year he will set his plans in motion, one by one. The real work starts now.

#id.bio #id.nitro #id.koalat #id.park bogum

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alliebruns-blog · 6 years ago

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The Namibia/Panama Crossings Part Two: The Desert, Day 1.

DAY 1: Namibgrens to the Erongo region - 28.5 miles (AKA ‘The Naivety of the British Runner EXPOSED’)

I love 5.30 am starts, which is lucky because that’s basically the deal for the next week. Yes reader, 5.30am is a time. A real time. That people get up.

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Kit on and bags packed, and it’s off for breakfast for musli and yoghurt and then straight into the car for me and Darren. Jim and Danni get on their bikes for the first leg of the bike ride. They are starting 100km behind us. We will drive 100km to the edge of the desert and start the run there. We won’t see Jim, Pete and Danni for 2 days now. It’s emotional, but we deal with it. If they want to cheat it’s up to them. They have to live with that decision. And boy, does Jim live with it…. (TBC)

After an hour in the car we get to the edge of the Namib-Naukluft Park and the giant NO ENTRY sign. There’s a gate, but one of the team has left the key to the padlock at the office 200km away in Walvis Bay. So we do what we always do, and knock the fence down. We put it up again. It’s all good. The government said we could do it. What are the laws on guns here again?

Seems legit.....

Darren and I have had a brief discussion about running together. It’s hard when you don't know someone that well - or when you do, and know that they are faster than you (which is what I know about Darren). I say 10 min miles are my jam, which they are for these longer back to backs and Darren agrees he can deal with that. I am talking about 10 min miles in the UK on trails in about 12 degrees. Our 10 min mile plan lasts just that. About 10 mins to a mile.

We start running on a gravel path - it’s pretty runable, soft in places, and it’s a cool morning - cloudy and not too hot - so we manage about 6 miles in about an hour - a pretty good pace. With one support vehicle in front of us and one behind, we have access to our kit and fresh water and food pretty much all the time. It’s great! I am still running with a small pack and a bladder - I am obsessed with running out of water.

First part of the day looks do-able....

We trot on through the never ending gravel plains and then, suddenly from nowhere there is a big group of animals running as a pack. They look like ponies BUT THEY ARE ZEBRAS! Wondrous mountain zebras, stampeding along and crossing in front of us. A literal Zebra crossing. Amazing. There are some big cats in the area, so we keep and eye out to see if it’s a chase, but don’t spot anything. Seeing these animal up close like that, just doing what they do is astonishing and we don't take it for granted.

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Zebra Crossing!!!!!

Also out on the plains that morning were Oryx’s - great big deer type creature with huge spiked horns and long fluffy tails. They’re very shy and they can run FAST. We also see a couple of little sidewinder snakes and some fun new crickets we’d not seen before. Our “taking photos of everything” habit is slowing our pace, so we try to crack on.

Snake holes.....

New Pal......

We keep running, with more walk breaks now. It’s getting hotter - it’s becoming obvious that we can’t keep up a flat 10 min mile pace for the whole day. The clouds clear and the sun comes out with a vengance. It’s 9am and boiling.

Our first hill appeared in front of us, a long, slow rising dune made of red sand. There’s a burnt car - the remains of a poachers vehicle left in the sand; a reminder not to break the rules. An eerie sight in a beautiful landscape. At the top of the hill we get our first view of the red dunes. And what fun they were. Soft and fluffy - these are the small guys - we power up them and speed down them.

Views..... (get used to this....)

As we cross, we also get our first high view of the desert sprawling in front of us. It was magical and terrifying. At the top of the hill, under a tree lay the remains of a Springbok, bleached white by the sun. Possibly left in the tree by the triumphant cat that caught it, with the carcass dropping as various animals made the most of a good meal. It was a very real reminder of what happens when you are left alone out here.

That’s what dehydration can do to ya.....

Danny and David realised the ‘road’ they had plotted was now no longer passable, as the dunes had moved and were too soft to drive on. This was highly amusing for myself and Darren, who got to watch them attempt to get the cars up the new mega deep, fresh dunes. Those guys are some of the best drivers I have ever seen. What they do with those cars is MENTAL and they never (well barely ever) get it wrong. The tracks from the support trucks lead the way for us to run - but running IN the tracks of the cars is difficult - they make the sand soft and moveable. The tracks serve only to show us the way-ish - we can run alongside them or cut across plains. As long as we have the trucks in sight it’s cool. And losing them actually freaks you out a bit.

We decide to run off road and do an explore - trotting over dunes in the general direction that Danny and David pointed us in while they sorted truckgate. This meant negotiating spiky bushes, snake holes. lizard guys, big cat prints and dunes, not necessarily in that order, in rising heat. We kept on pushing and pace was good for the terrain. Darren though he saw some ostriches but it because clear these were actually a steel posts. Heat brain was setting in.

Spot the car.....

Lunch was served at about 14 miles, in a small makeshift tent that Danny, David and Johnny had erected on the path for us - cold water down the back and on the head, bread, meat, cheese and GERKINS YES GERKINS were on the menu. I took a second to take in what was actually happening here. A picnic in hell or heaven? I dunno. It was one of the best lunch spots I’ve ever stopped at though…..

Lunch - doesn’t look that hot. Was fucking boiling.

After the refuel, we set off again. It was getting really tough now, with heat peaking in the late 30’s between 1 and 3pm and zero wind. It was also getting sandier, which sounds stupid when you consider where we are but it WAS getting sandier! Elevation was also on the up. It’s easy to decide try and give everything to the run in these conditions, but I was constantly reminding myself that we had another 3 days of this and we had to respect the distance. Oh yeah, then we had a good 250-300km to do in Panama. We ran and marched through another 15 miles of beautiful but essentially non-descript hill dunes. We ran past a small dune filled with big holes, and out popped a desert jackal (possibly one of the cutest things on earth) He should have been asleep really, and he couldn’t believe his bulgy eyes. I imagined him running back down into the maze of tunnels to tell the other jackals what he’d seen outside and them saying “go back to sleep Dave, you’re drunk”.

Hello little pal!

Eventually we saw the trucks had stopped at the top of a huge dune - we were 28 miles in to what was supposed to be a 30 mile day and we were all knackered. Doing that distance is one thing, doing it in sand and heat, without a rest day after 24 hours travel is another. We decided as a team to add on the extra couple of miles to tomorrow and try an get out heads down for the night. At the top of the dune, we downed tools and took in the the view of the valley below. Zebras and oryx’s were grazing as the sun set. It was Lion King beautiful.

I’ve camped in worse spots.....

Tent life.....

Our crew set up camp as we dealt with the important issue of re-hydration with a beer, a sit down and foot check. The make-do camp shower looked out across the plains. The toilet took in some of the most beautiful views on earth. We were so lucky to be there.

That night as we settled down for a bolognese dinner, an huge owl flew over camp and drew our attention to something larger sloping down the hill. To the amazement of Danny (who has been working in the desert for over 25 years) it was the extraordinarily rare brown mountain hyena. He was trotting down the dune towards camp. We could just about make out his distinctive shape and he was obviously curious about the smells and sounds. He had probably never seen human beings before. It was mesmerising. In his 25 years Danny has only ever seen 4-5 of these creatures and we get him on the first night. I swore it was because I was a dog person, and hyena guy could tell.

After dinner we sit round camp and chat and then it’s bed. First day done, feet looking good and bellies full. Onwards to day 2.

TBC

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thedefinitionofbts · 7 years ago

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Winter: Endless Days

Part of “Tell me of an Eternity” { Autumn | Winter | Spring | Summer }

Pairings: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Angst, Immortal!Yoongi

Words: 12K

Description: Sometimes the most fleeting of moments are the ones that go on to last for an eternity.

You had heard about the immortal from a very young age.

They were one of the two kinds of people that existed in the world, living through their endless days as if it were no different from that of the mortal.

Born with an IQ lower than most children your age--a slow learner they had said- you had the benefit of doing something other mortal beings typically did not have the opportunity to do. And despite your mother’s insistence that you would grow up fine, your father was overly worried about you falling behind later in life if you didn’t get a head start or “special tutoring” as he had put it, which is how you ended up meeting a man named Min Yoongi when you were just 6 years old.

At such an early stage in your life, you couldn’t see what was so special about the man, why your father had gone out of his way to strike a deal with this young professor of basically every subject under the sun, but you soon realized that his wide range of specialized knowledge was besides the point.

“He’s an immortal,” Your brother Seokjin had whisper in realization, while your parents were discussing the matter in the kitchen one night.

“What’s an enordal? You inquire, gripping on to the hem of his pants as he eavesdropped on their conversation.

“It’s immortal, you dummy, and they’re the people who never die.” He explains with a roll of his eyes.

“What’s die?”

He sighs heavily, shaking his head in defeat. “Ugh, I give up.”

Min Yoongi was a man who looked to be in his twenties, but was probably around five hundred years old in actuality. He stood at the entrance of the door, with his hair that was the deepest shade of ebony and age-less skin almost luminous against his dark colored clothes. You watched, head tilted in curiosity, as your parents greeted him at the front door, staring at the handsomely youthful man from the staircase of your house with furrowed brows and pouty lips.

“You must be Y/N, I assume,” He states more than questions, face stoic other than the slight, almost unnoticeable, upturn of his lip.

You continue to stare at him with your bottom lip still protruding, not seeing the need to verbally respond because it’s not like he had asked you a question, right?

“Y/N dear, this is Mr. Min” Your mother introduces. “He’ll be your private tutor from now on.”

“How come Seokjinnie doesn’t have a pribate tutu?” You ask, eyeing the man’s perfectly ironed clothes and expensive looking bag.

“Because I’m smart and don’t need one” Your older brother butts in, earning him a stern glare and smack upside the head by your father.

“Please excuse my children, Mr. Min” Your father apologizes. “They’ve had too much freedom in this house.”

At that Yoongi chuckles softly. “It’s fine, I understand that raising children is not an easy feat.”

Your parents treat him like he’s much older than he looks, which is actually true, but still looks strange from your perspective because you’ve never seen your dad bow to a man who looks a good twenty to thirty years younger than him.

“You can call me Yoongi.” He says once the two of you are alone, and he’s setting his bag down on the sofa of the study room.

You tilt your head, wondering why that would be acceptable when your parents had clearly addressed and introduced him as “Mr. Min” just now.

“Is something wrong?” He asks when you don’t respond.

You shake your head, eyes still peering at him with the utmost curiosity.

He looks at you with kind eyes before turning back to his bag.

“Alright then, shall we begin?”

Min Yoongi comes to tutor you every single day, bringing his signature bag that you’ve come to recognize from a mile away, keeping all of his tutoring materials- workbooks, worksheets, pens, pencils, you name it, inside. He’s the picture of tranquility and precision, making sure everything is organized for the lesson and never exposing a single hint of fatigue or any other emotion for that matter. You wonder if that’s an inherent trait of the immortal (or whatever they were called): their ability to remain so…perfectly composed.

“Y-Yoongi?” You sum up the courage to voice as your curiosity got the better of you one sunny afternoon as you watch him prepare your lesson.

“Hmm?” He hums, flipping through the textbook to decide where to start.

“How old are you?”

It’s a question he wasn’t expecting to be asked, not by a little girl who was barely old enough to read. The surprise is not written on his stoic face but is instead conveyed by his still body as he pauses mid-flip.

He turns to look at you, expression unreadable. “Honestly, I haven’t been keeping track since I turned 25. Immort- ugh, my kind, we don’t usually feel the need to keep track after we’ve stopped aging.” He admits, flashing you a faint smile before turning his attention back to the textbook. You don’t question him further, not quite understanding the process of aging in the first place and instead opting to contemplate whether or not you should stop counting your age too.

You end up spending most days working on reading comprehension and simple math, the staple in society’s education curriculum. It had been a couple of weeks since your first lesson with Yoongi, and you still had trouble understanding most of the passages from a storybook that you were supposed to be able to read at this age.

Even at the tender age of 6, you knew you weren’t the brightest crayon in the box, but sometimes you just felt so dumb when you couldn’t even understand the shortest of sentences, ones that should be simple even for a child who was younger than you to read. And you knew if Seokjin were here, he would most certainly make fun of your incompetence.

“Everyone says I’m slow.” You confess, looking at the book with discouraged eyes. “I don’t know what it’s saying.” It was disappointing, especially that feeling of trying your very best and it still not being good enough. You felt like a complete failure.

“Take your time.” Yoongi murmurs kindly, patting you gently on the shoulder before coming to sit next to you on the couch. “How about I read it out loud once, and then you can try again?”

…

“Has Mr. Min called you stupid yet?” Seokjin jokes as he stuffs a mouthful of meat into his mouth, lightly laughing as he chews.

“No” You retort, throwing him an angry pout across the dinner table. “He’s not mean like you.” You recall all the encouraging words Yoongi has said to you along with the image of his softened features, a dreamy thought that makes a strange type of sensation spread throughout your chest.

“Seokjin, be nice to your sister.” Your mother scolds.

“I just feel bad for the guy.” Seokjin shrugs. “He has to pretend to enjoy teaching you stuff that you’ll never learn.”

“Seokjin!” Your father shouts. “Not another word about it!”

Seokjin sinks a bit in his seat, making an I-was-just-pointing-out-the-truth face.

Although you were used to being teased by your brother, his comments that night had hit you pretty forcefully. You’ve been told you were slow, you’ve always known that. But there was something about wanting to see improvement, wanting to learn, and not being able to see it that made it even more discouraging than if you weren’t putting in an effort driven attempt. You despised yourself for being so useless, and now you were starting to think that Yoongi must be frustrated too, despite his expert attempts at hiding it.

Seokjin was right; Yoongi probably thought you were hopeless just like every one else did.

“I-I…,” You begin to voice as you stared at the questions you were supposed to answer after reading the short passage, only to find out you had no clue what it was asking. “don’t remember what happened in the story.” You confess after ten minutes of silence had gone by and there was not a single mark on your worksheet.

“You don’t remember or you didn’t understand what you read?” Yoongi’s voice makes you look up at him nervously.

“Ummm…” You were searching your mind for an excuse, something less embarrassing than admitting you couldn’t even read the passage because there were too many words you didn’t understand and too many phrases you couldn’t interpret.

Yoongi sighs, not wearily or disappointed in the slightest, but just a long exhale before walking over to you desk and crouching down to get eye-level with you. You look at him with wide, glassy eyes, knowing you’ve done something wrong and he was probably going to tell your parents that you’re hopeless and will never learn anything.

“If you don’t understand it, just tell me.” He says, reaching over to tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear, inciting an unexpected wave of pure comfort to wash over your scared little heart. “Don’t be afraid.”

…

You knew that Yoongi was patient, but you never realized how impossibly patient he really was until you entered primary school and got yelled at by the teachers and made fun of by the other students, something you were sort of expecting but nevertheless still hurt. It made you despise going to school, a negative effect of the bullying and name calling you had to deal with every day, but the one good thing that came out of it was that your loathing of school made you wholeheartedly appreciate and enjoy your private lessons with Min Yoongi all the more.

You loved spending time with him in your parents’ study, the room that you had spend hours in everyday for a number of years now. It was something you had grown accustomed to, the two hours that you genuinely looked forward to and would even classify as the highlight of your day. Yoongi would always come with new lessons, and although most kids hated the act of studying, to you it was blissful as long as Yoongi was there to soothe you with his impossibly calm voice and relaxed smiles every time you turned to him for encouragement. You kept telling yourself that you were only fond of him because he was one of the only people who truly believe in you, who never gave up no matter how sluggishly you improved in the beginning stages, but something hidden in yourself tells you it may be more than just that.

Yoongi’s theory was that there were no such things as slow learners, only people who learned differently. He knew that everyone had their own way of thinking and understanding the world, and believed that with perseverance and the right footing, anyone could work their way to becoming successful.

He was right of course, because by middle school, no one was able to tell you had struggled with reading, writing, and math up until then. Your parents thought it was a miracle and showered Yoongi with their gratitude and praise, but Yoongi did nothing but shrug and say-

“It was all the hard work of you daughter”

It was his way of being humble, giving you all the credit when in fact he had stayed up countless night preparing your lessons and coming up with different ways to grasp concepts.

“So are you ready to say goodbye to your beloved Yoongi?” Seokjin provokes, leaning on the doorway of your bedroom.

“What are you talking about?” You whip your head around almost giving yourself whiplash as you glared at your brother the same way you always did when he’s being a little shit.

“Mom and Dad haven’t told you yet?” He scoffs. “Even though you’re technically not dumb anymore, you’re still as dense as you’ve always been.”

“Stop it Seokjin, I don’t have time for your games.”

“Fine” He shrugs. “I was just giving you a heads up about the imminent goodbye, seeing as though you’ve had a crush on the guy for so many years.”

“Seokjin!” You gasp, facing heating up at his comment. “Stop patronizing me!”

“You think no one has noticed?” He scoffs again. “The way you get so excited to see him even after a long day at school, and the way your mind drifts off into whatever little daydream you’re having at the mere mention of his name.”

“That’s not true!” You yell, biting your bottom lip and praying Seokjin can’t see how red your cheeks have become.

“It doesn’t matter anyways. He’ll be gone soon.”

You despised to admit it, but it’d be the biggest lie anyone ever told if you said you never felt something akin to affection for your tutor of 5 years. The way he didn’t treat you like you were inept and never lost patience when you didn’t understand something even after being taught hundreds of times. And even when you were upset at your own uselessness, he would console you in ways no one and nothing else could.

“This is the last session?” You murmur, raising your large, round eyes to meet his, using all the strength in your body to remain as composed as the man standing in front of you.

“You’ve made it.” He reaches over and ruffles the top of your hair, that familiar half smile stretching his lips. “You don’t need me anymore.

“B-but…” You feel your bottom lip tremble, and you have to look away to distract yourself from the reality of the situation. Was this actually the last time you would ever see him?

“Keep working hard and you’ll soar higher than a lot of mortals in this world.”

Mortals. You can’t say that you never forgot why Yoongi could never stay with you for long. You had gotten so used to him coming over to your house, tutoring you for so many years that your brain decided to ignore the real issue at hand.

Min Yoongi was an immortal human being, the secret to his everlasting youth lied within his perennial heartbeat and specialized mind, a signature of those who lived forever.

It was something that Seokjin had told you from day one, and even now that you’ve learned about the their species in school, you still had a hard time accepting the fact that the Yoongi you had known for so many years was so fundamentally different from you that reaching the cusp of parting with him was inevitable.

And even when you breezed through high school and eventually your undergraduate years in university, you still couldn’t forget him. How could you when you were still using everything he taught you-skills that saved your ass on more occasions than you can count? You could never forget the guidance he provided you in those critical years of your childhood, teaching you how to use elaborative rehearsal and other forms of problem solving that was tailored to you, and in the years after he left, you continued to hone those same skills for the rest of your educational career, never forgetting the man with a gentle voice and the most soothing of smiles.

…

“Immortals have one interesting ability that keeps them sane.” The voice of your graduate professor echoes throughout the lecture hall.

It had already been years since you last thought about the immortals as a branched off species of the human race. You had classes here and there back in high school biology about the basics-how a mutation occurred in the human genome that allowed some homo sapiens to regenerate their cells endlessly and how their body “ages” differently from yours.

There were many things you still did not know about them, or more like people in general did not know about them. Thinking back you hadn’t told anyone that you actually had an immortal being as your tutor for a good 5 years, not even in high school where some obnoxious students would brag about knowing an immortal or having an immortal friend just to get attention. It was childish, and you preferred not to get involved in such meaningless acts because you knew for a fact that any mortal who actually had experience with interacting with an immortal would know that it doesn’t actually feel any different.

Immortals aren’t this exotic animal at the zoo or some masked superhero in a movie, they were just as human as any other mortal, or perhaps Yoongi was an exception and they are a world apart. Whatever the case, you couldn’t deny or confirm that because you had never met anyone else among his species.

Now sitting in a lecture for your graduate program in Genetics, you were finally getting filled in on all the details of how exactly immortals are different from “normal” human beings on a molecular level.

“The secret lies within their selective memory.” The professor continues to explain. “Haven’t you ever wondered how their brains are able to keep track of everything that’s ever happened in the hundreds, thousands, and eventually infinite number of years they will remain alive?” He pauses to let the question settle. “We’ve found time and time again that immortal beings lose copious amounts of their memory each time their brains are regenerated. The memory loss ability is actually a product of evolution. Imagine how draining it would be to retain everything. They would go insane.”

“Do they have control over which memories they choose to keep?” A student in the crowd inquires.

The professor chuckles lightheartedly. “Good question. In fact, they don’t, for the most part at least.” He replies. “We have found over the years that the bulk of their memory loss is due to the erasing of their episodic memory, those associated with autobiographical events, for example: times, places, associated emotions, and other contextual information about people they knew in the past, what happened, when and where etc. Although it’s still not fully understood if the memory erasing occurs consciously or subconsciously, it’s most likely a combination of both.”

There’s a silent agreement that vibrates through the crowd of students.

“It has no effect on their semantic memory, which is why they are perceived as humans who possess super intelligence, but it’s merely an effect of living for so long.”

Your mind begins to drift off again, a terrible habit of yours that would kick in whenever you got bored listening to lectures or when you were trying to concentrate for long periods of time. Everything your professor was explaining now was not new to you; after all it was only the first week of the semester where class time was usually dedicated to logistics and a brief overviews of the course.

You were going to go through your first rotation today, finally getting to chose which professor you would be conducting research under for the next 4 years. It was exciting because the special thing about this university that you chose was that every student would get a chance to work under an immortal professor. It was a very specialized graduate program that isn’t just offered at any school, but rather a select few in the country, and that just so happens to be the reason you chose to pursue a PhD here.

“So have you looked at the list of names yet?” Hoseok inquires as the two of you are grabbing lunch.

“No, I wanted it to be a surprise.” You reply through a mouthful of sandwich. He throws you a disgusted look at your bad habit of speaking with your mouthful.

Jung Hoseok was someone you met back in undergrad, your organic chemistry lab partner who was a genius in his own right because he managed to ace the course without even buying textbook, despite the professor taking the time to remind the students every week that the only way to even pass the class was to do the problems in the back of the book.

“I guess their names don’t matter, but you should’ve at least gotten acquainted with their current research.” He throws you a weary look.

You shrug. “I’m not that picky.”

“Y/N! What if they question you about your interest in their lab?”

“Look, Hobi…” You had never told him about you actually knowing an immortal, but since he’d be meeting one anyways, you figure it’s not a big deal. “I had an immortal private tutor when I was 6.”

His eyes widen and his jaw slacks. “Seriously?”

You nod.

“B-but, how-why are you just telling me this now?”

“Because that’s what I’m going to say when I meet those immortal professors this afternoon. I’m going to talk about my personal story and how I became so fascinated by their race and ultimately decided to study Human Genetics. Simple.” You take another bite of your sandwich that was now beginning to fall apart because the filling to bread ratio was too large.

“Wow, that’s…wow” He seems to be at loss for words. “What were they like?”

You spend the rest of your lunch break filling Hoseok in on your past, skipping most of the minor details and choosing to emphasize the more relevant parts, making it sound like some major turning point in your life that eventually led you to the realization of wanting to understand the history of human evolution through molecular biology and genetics, aka, going over that speech that you had rehearsed for today. It was the truth, albeit not the entire story, but good enough for those professors, or at least you thought.

When rotations do roll around, you tour several labs run by immortal professors. One in particular, led by a professor named Kim Taehyung catches your interest because he was a quirky man with a boxy smile who seemed very passionate about his work in human-animal hybrids. It was interesting, but a little too extreme for your tastes. Then there was a woman named Kim Yuna who prides herself in being the first scientist to discover the family of genes that control immortal cell regeneration.

Two more labs came after that, but they didn’t really catch your attention so you barely remembered what they were. The last lab you and Hoseok, along with the rest of the graduate students were set up to visit was at the end of the hall. You hear someone whisper in the back that this last lab is one of the most difficult labs to get in because the professor who runs it is very picky when it comes to students wanting to work under him because he apparently studies the psychological states of immortal beings. It sounded interesting, but you were tired from walking all afternoon and weren’t in the mood to listen in on people’s conversations.

The hushed voices diminish to eerie silence once the double doors of the lab are pushed open. You are immediately hit with the smell of sterilization fluid and bright light, but all of your senses are drowned out as you stare at the dark haired professor waiting to greet the group of students one by one. You freeze in place when you see his face because it was a face you had never expected to see…ever again.

Min Yoongi.

Your first thought is that this must be a dream. You must’ve been studying for finals, fell asleep, and started dreaming about the guy that has consistently shown up in your private realm of slumber for years now. You blame it on your childish mind, and those raging teenage hormones that just won’t seem to go away. But Hoseok’s voice and nudge in the arm tells you, you’re most certainly not asleep right now.

“H-Hi, I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, Professor Min.” You reach out an arm to shake his hand, and it’s trembling like no other. You want to make a run for it, not knowing why though because you had wanted to see him again ever since he left. But there was something about seeing the physical presence of him standing in front of you that made you wish none of what was happening now was real because the heat rushing to your face is threatening to kill you with embarrassment.

“Welcome” He says, not displaying a single hint of recognition on his features, but a subtle faltering glint in his eyes tells you otherwise.

…

“So remember the immortal tutor I told you about?”

“Yeah.”

“I know this sounds like too much of a coincidence, but it’s him.”

Hoseok nearly chokes on the sprite he was drinking. “What?!?!” He almost has the urge to fling the can across the room, but ultimately decides against having to clean up the resulting mess. “You’re kidding, right?”

You give him an unfortunate look while shaking your head.

“So what the hell are you waiting for? Request to conduct research in his lab!”

“I-I..c-can’t”

“Why not?”

“Because I like him.”

Hearing those words escape your mouth for the first time ever feels like an out of body experience. You had no idea what possessed you to admit such a deeply buried confession to Hoseok. In fact, you had been denying such an acknowledgement to yourself for years, but something inside told you that if you didn’t get it out there now you’d eventually explode.

Hoseok’s face is unreadable, but you know he’s about to lecture you on how ridiculous you were being. How impossible this whole situation was, and how you need to stay away from Yoongi or you’ll only end up getting hurt or embarrassed or become a delusional mess, permanently.

“So…you’re going to work under some other professor just so you can date Min Yoongi?” Hoseok ponders over your strategy, deeming it reasonable, or so it seems from the looks of the nodding action his head partakes in. Of course, it made sense that way since a professor dating his student would risk coming off as unacceptable to some.

“What?” You furrow your brows so densely that you’re sure you just gave yourself a hoard of permanent wrinkles on your forehead. “No, no…I need to avoid him, that’s what I’m getting at.” You shake your head, wondering how in the world Hoseok got the idea that you would actually attempt to pursue such a juvenile unrequited love, and in such an absurd manner to top it.

“But……why?” He flashes you a confused look. “Why would you avoid someone you like?”

“Jung Hoseok” You use his full name for emphasis. “In case you’ve forgotten already, that man is immortal, and what am I?”

“They’re still the same species.” Hoseok reminds. “Y/N, reproduction is not an issue here.”

“Hobi! That’s not what I’m worried about” You gasp, face feeling hotter than when you saw Yoongi this past afternoon.

“Then what? It’s not against the law. I don’t see the problem.”

“It’s not accepted, and he would never feel the same way.” You murmur. “Think about it, why would he chose me over some other gorgeous, forever youthful immortal lady?”

Hoseok doesn’t respond right away, probably trying to come up with some lame sympathetic comment in an attempt to console you. But you didn’t need it; you’re not that same stupid child anymore. You are old enough to be rational and contain such foolish emotions.

…

A week later, all of the grad students finally receive an email notifying them of which labs have offered them a research position. Everyone was allowed to choose amongst the acceptances, and of course, you were no exception. Looking at the names of the professors listed in the email you just clicked open, you force yourself to ignore the last one.

“Y/N, you got an offer from Professor Min’s lab, why would you choose Professor Choi’s, you’re not even remotely interested in his work.” You can practically see the exasperated look on Hoseok’s face without even having to turn around.

“I told you, Hobi. It’s so I can stop living in my own delusional world.” You respond, already typing the email of thanks to accept the offer from Professor Choi Minho. Although you weren’t quite able to recall what exactly he was researching, you’re sure you can get yourself to grow to like it eventually.

“I heard Min only accepted one student this year.” He says, making your fingers stop moving. “Do you understand how lucky you are?”

You bite your bottom lip, wanting to continue with your email and ignore whatever your long time friend was saying, but you find yourself lacking the will.

…

Walking down the lab hall with clammy palms and trembling shoulders, you literally have to fight off he growing urge to run away and hide somewhere no one will find you. You were officially joining Yoongi’s lab today, and you don’t restrain yourself from putting full blame on Hoseok that all of this was actually happening. On second thought, there was no reason you should be feeling like this in the first place, not when everything was built in your head and the reality of the situation is not worthy of such a reaction at all.

You were overreacting.

You had spent all of yesterday convincing yourself that you were doing this because facing the problem head on was the only real way to get over it. But who the fuck were you kidding? You knew why you never sent that email to Professor Choi, and instead decided to spend two hours coming up with a natural sounding one-paragraph email to Min Yoongi and another fifteen minutes hovering over the send button because you couldn’t make up your damn mind. You wanted to be his student and work in his lab, and you knew that. You’ve longed to see him again for years, and you couldn’t even try to deny that humiliating desire to be with him-the one that had plagued your emotions when you were younger.

But why the hell were you so nervous when you had convinced yourself that you had grown past those foolish emotions? Why was your stomach churning with a million butterflies and your legs feeling like marshmallows when you were just going to work with him in a professional setting? The man had met you when you were a child, listening to everything he said in awe and spewing random comments left and right. Surly you had grown up to be much less obnoxious adult. There was no reason to feel so self-conscious now.

“Have you forgotten me already?”

You slowly raise your head to meet his eyes. Eyes that haven’t changed one bit since you last saw him a decade ago, and you almost can’t breathe with how intently they are focused on you right then.

“I-I…”

He chuckles, light and smooth, making you feel like you were ten years old again, like you hadn’t matured at all and would always remain a child in his eyes.

“I’m glad you chose my lab.” He says, voice not giving away anything other than a formal welcome, the same thing he would be saying to any other student that he would’ve accepted as a research graduate.

“T-thank you for accepting me” You’re voice is soft, but at least still audible. You didn’t know what else to say, you were basically repeating the same words you had written in the email.

You see the slight upturn of Yoongi’s lip, but otherwise no sign of elation or gratification. Of course, what were you expecting? Immortals do not feel emotion as strongly as the mortal, and you should know better by now. You’ve learned over the years that it’s due to the constant refreshing of their episodic memory and their guaranteed eternal lives. The concept has always interested you, why they were so numb to things that would make normal humans feel overwhelmed.

“Have you thought about a research topic?” He questions, still looking at the way you were shifting your feet uncomfortably.

“Ummm, immortal psychology?” You wince at your broad statement.

Yoongi nods slowly. “Well, yes, that is the general area we study in my lab. Can you be more specific?”

Shit. Why the hell did you not prepare for this? You didn’t even fucking read any of his recently published papers. God you’re an idiot. Now you were really starting to regret not heeding Hoseok’s warning the other day.

“The part about n-not dying?” It comes out as a question more than a resolute statement.

Yoongi waits for you to continue.

“Like what happens in an accident? Can immortals be killed?” You mentally face palm as the words leave your mouth. What kind of fucking nonsense are you spewing? It’s basic knowledge that they don’t die. Hello? What part of immortal did you not understand? You were putting some serious consideration into the idea of jumping out the window in that moment. Pull it together.

Yoongi doesn’t respond right away, but you can tell he’s disappointed in your inadequate preparation. “It sounds like you should’ve chosen Professor Kim Yuna’s lab instead. She’s the one who specializes in immortal cell regeneration.” Yoongi sighs and directs his attention to a series of vials on the counter. “Our cells regenerate almost instantaneously. So we don’t die even in accidents. We can’t be killed, and even in the event that we do, we’ll come back alive. Maybe you should’ve chosen to study the spiritual side of immortality. How our souls also take part in the regenerating process.” His voice sounds distant verging on detached, which only fuels your desperation.

“What about the carrying capacity of the planet? Wouldn’t the rise in immortal humans contribute to overpopulation?” You’re honestly just hysterical now.

Yoongi huffs a small laugh. “We still make up such small portions of the human population that it essentially has no effect, especially since we don’t reproduce, and by the time these rare mutations occur frequently enough, I’m sure technology will have found other planets or universes for us to inhabit.”

You can sense the dissatisfied tone in his voice even though it sounds no different from how he normally speaks.

There’s a pregnant pause, one that feels so agonizing that you can’t stand how stupid you are being. He’s totally going to kick you out of his lab now and probably regrets putting so much effort into tutoring you in the past, seeing as though you have not improved at all from that retarded little girl who couldn’t even read.

“I-I’m sorry Professor Min. To be honest, I haven’t actually thought about what I want to research specifically.” You finally confess, admitting that you came unprepared and dropping your gaze to the ground, preparing to accept whatever punishment you were in for.

The pause continues to drag on, so long that you suspect Yoongi was so appalled by your ineptitude that he walked out of the room. You force yourself to lift you head to see where he had gone, but realize that he’s actually approached you and was looking at your dejected face with that same note of kindness you see in your dreams.

“It’s ok, I can help you go over your options.” He whispers with that look in his eyes that you know oh-so well.

And you can’t seem to look away, not when his face is so kind in contrast to what you had expected to see, and certainly not when he’s physically closer to you than he’s been in years. At that moment you were that 6-year-old child again, sitting at the desk in your parents’ study, gazing into the eyes of an immortal man who was kneeling by your chair as if time had stopped, and all the particles in the universe had frozen in place.

…

“So how’s lab?” Hoseok asks, deceptively innocent question seeming to not contain any underlying meaning, no ulterior motive, but you knew exactly what he was really curious to hear about.

“He hasn’t changed.” You reply, stirring your hot soup with your spoon in hopes of making it cool down faster by dispersing the heat.

“Well, did you expect him to?” Hoseok’s question hits you as a surprise.

“I-I dunno. Maybe?”

“Y/N, you do realize that 10 years for you literally feels like an infinitesimal second to them right? They live forever, time doesn’t even hold importance for them.”

You weren’t expecting Hoseok’s words to hit you so hard, but you’ve never actually thought about the concept of time to immortal beings. It was more than just you not being exactly skilled at stepping into other people’s shoes, but you were always dense, clueless, and unable to read situations as accurately as normal people could.

...

“I want to research how immortals perceive time.” You announce, sitting in Yoongi’s office as he waits for you to explain where your interest in immortal psychology lies.

“Interesting” He comments. “I see you’ve put much consideration into this.”

You nod enthusiastically. “I’m curious to know if the absence of a time limit in their eternal lives effects their ability to feel the deep range of emotions that mortals are capable of feeling.” You feel a light wave of heat crawl up your face, but you try to ignore it nonetheless.

“It’s true that immortals feel more muted versions of human emotion, in fact, it’s even negligible to us most of the time. There are even some who do not feel anything at all, which I have researched in the past. But I must admit, I have never considered the theory that time would be the root of such a phenomenon.” Yoongi ponders over your chosen topic.

He doesn’t question your reason for choosing to research immortal time perception any further, giving you the ok to begin collecting background information before the designing of your experiment.

You actually learn quite a lot of new things in the process, namely those about immortals never getting attached to things that are fleeting because their minds have developed a sort of self defense mechanism to avoid lasting emotional pain. It also explains why they lose their episodic memory, the type that is most taxing on their mental health. It is still unknown if it’s possible for them suddenly develop emotions that are so strong that the memory of it never gets erased, but the potential of that being extremely damaging is obvious.

Going to lab was gradually becoming, dare you say it, enjoyable and relaxing. You almost begin to wonder how such an intimidating person like Yoongi could make you feel so comfortable. Perhaps it was a result of him being your tutor for so many years and that feeling of his constant presence continued to remain familiar to you despite the gap years in between or maybe it was the way he treated you without any judgment, making you feel rest assured, even when you were letting him read you like an open book.

“It’s late. I’ll take you home.” Yoongi says one evening after everyone had left the lab hours ago.

Your head bolts up from your laptop and you glance at the clock. It was already 10pm. You had completely lost track of time, which is ironic because you were reading about it the damn topic the entire time.

“I-I-”

“You can continue tomorrow. I’m assuming you still have class.” Yoongi reminds, taking off his lab coat and grabbing his car keys.

It was obvious that Yoongi wasn’t aware that you weren’t actually going to request for more time to do research, you were just startled by his offer to take you home. Like was this normal? You’ve learned that with Yoongi, it’s hard to tell what’s normal and what’s “special” treatment, since he’s so calm all the time and doesn’t express emotion. Of course, because he doesn’t feel true emotion. You’ve even tried to differentiate his varying types of calmness, like the subtle lower pitch of his voice, the tiny bit of extra cloudiness in his pupils, the nonexistent twitch of his lip corner… or maybe it was all in your head and he actually just feels the same all the time.

You were probably going crazy because if Hoseok knew about all the things that would dance around your head that had to do with Min Yoongi, he’d definitely be very, very concerned about your mental well being.

You find yourself sitting in the passenger’s seat of Yoongi’s car, staring out the window but of course, sneaking occasional glances at the poised way he drives. With his eyes trained on the road, you wonder if he’s thinking about work, life in general, or some other thing you probably can’t even wrap your head around. What are thoughts like when you live forever? What are they like when you don’t actually deal with emotions?

“Are you hungry?” Yoongi’s voice snaps you out of your imaginary little world.

“H-Huh?”

“You didn’t eat dinner yet.” He states.

“Oh, I-I’m not that hungry.” Your wince as your stomach growls loudly at the worst possible time. Damn it.

“There’s a noodle place right around the corner. You mind if we stop by?” Yoongi says, pretending like he was the one who wanted to eat to save you from dying of embarrassment.

He doesn’t wait for you to answer, instead just pulls into the parking lot. He walks into the empty shop with you trailing not far behind. The storeowners inform the two of you that they were about to close, but agree to serve you as their last customers.

“Is something wrong?” Yoongi ask, looking up mid-slurp.

“U-uh, n-no.” You quickly avert your eyes and mentally curse at yourself for gawking at him like he was some endangered animal at the zoo. “I-it’s just, surprising…seeing you…eating noodles and all…” You trail off.

“We eat and sleep just like you.” Yoongi states.

“Y-yeah I know… I just thought…nevermind.” You actually didn’t know what you were thinking. Of course they lived their lives in exactly the same way. What were you even expecting?

You finish the rest of the meal in silence. Walking out of the shop, you thank Yoongi for treating you and are actually glad the darkness is hiding your nervous quivering and constant lip biting.

“I’m sorry you had to go out of your way to take me home. I should’ve kept track of time better.” You were about to thank him for dropping you off, but he interrupts you before you can voice your next sentence.

“You’re over thinking it.” Yoongi lets out a long exhale.

You don’t know how to respond, suddenly forgetting what exactly were you trying to get at with everything you’ve said so far.

“We’re seriously not as different, minus the eternal youth part. Think of it as you living the same day over and over again. You eventually become immune to the repetition.”

“But don’t you get bored?” The question comes out before your mind can run it through a filter.

“I think a better question is, do I ever not feel bored.” He laughs, albeit lightly, but it’s the first time you’ve heard an actual joke come out of him, and you literally can’t tear your eyes away from his almost, just almost pleased expression.

He turns to look at you, eyes softening as he gazes into your dilated pupils. You shift slighting in the passenger’s seat, hands gripping the fabric of your pants. Your heart is ready to jump out of your chest, but you keep your building adrenalin at bay by slowing your breathing. His skin is so pale and translucent in the partially dark vehicle that you have a hard time believing he’s even real; the image of him under the moonlit night is so mesmerizing, he really seemed ethereal.

You feel him leaning towards you and you want to think it’s an illusion that you were having another one of your daydreams about him, but no, the distance between his face and yours was getting smaller, and he wasn’t disappearing. But just as you were about to close your eyes you hear him clear his throat.

“You better get going.” You notice that he’s turned back to facing the front.

“R-right. T-thanks for the ride.” You quickly voice as you dash out of his car.

…

“He drove you home?” Hoseok’s eyes widen in incredulity. “And, you almost kissed?”

“Well, that might have been my imagination.” You bite your lip; unsure if it was too soon to claim something so impossible almost happened.

“Y/N! If he feels the same way, you have nothing to lose.” Hoseok exclaims. “Although being a rational friend, I have to tell you to be careful. I’m not too familiar with relationships between mortals and immortals.”

“Yeah, because they legit never work out and are generally frowned upon in society. Long-term relationships have never even existed before. People have only heard of short flings and stuff. Ugh, I’m probably just delusional anyways. Immortals don’t feel these kinds of emotions, and if anyone would know better, it should be me. I’m studying this for crying out loud!” You lean back in your chair frustrated. “Why am I like this, Hobi?” You look at him with puppy eyes, pouting at how absurd this whole thing was. You were actually hoping that throwing all this out in the open would help you wake up from this dream your were trying to live.

“It can’t be helped.” Hoseok consoles, leaning over and giving you a hug. “And if anything, I’d say he should take responsibility for leading you on.”

“Yeah, he should definitely take responsibility for my raging mortal teenage hormones.” You voice sarcastically.

Over the next few weeks, you continue to spend your days outside of lecture in lab. Yoongi hasn’t spoken about what exactly happened that night and you suspect it was too insignificant for him to even remember, so you obviously don’t bring it up either, not that you were actually considering it, because that wouldn’t be insane at all.

Midterms were coming up anyways, and you didn’t have the time or the energy to dwell over it or the million other nonsensical thoughts that had been popping up every time you saw him, namely trying to read the subtle changes in his expression, deciphering the underlying meaning of his words, or analyzing the tone of his voice.

The stressful testing period came as a relief because you were allowed a week off lab to focus on studying, and for once, you were actually glad you had dozens of chapters to review and papers to write.

“So has he said anything?”

“No.” You drearily reply, gripping onto your coffee mug with both hands as if it were your lifeline. You had stayed up all night reading through your textbook, and clearly just wanted a break from said topic.

“And you haven’t brought it up either?”

“Hobi, why would I do that? I’ve been trying to focus on midterms.” You state, voicing the same words you had been drilling into your head for the past week to get your mind off of that exact topic. “And clearly you should too.”

Hoseok rests his head on his textbook and groans. “Uh, I shouldn’t left all my readings untouched until now.”

…

You find out that all the graduate students and the professors have this tradition of celebrating the semester’s halfway mark after midterms. It wasn’t anything fancy; in fact, the celebration was the same as the kind you were familiar with during undergrad- going to the club and drinking.

“He’s hot, Y/N, you’re so lucky. I should’ve dressed up better or sucked up to him during the lab tours.” Somin says. “It’s a pity.” She sighs, taking another sip of her cocktail.

You smile at her, not knowing how to vocally respond to her blunt statement. You didn’t even know why Yoongi had chosen you out of all people, sure he knew you from before, but that didn’t seem like a good enough reason to make you his research assistant.

“He’s immortal, and you’ve had one-shot Somin, don’t tell me you’re drunk already.” Hoseok utters, taking another sip of his own drink.

“Are the professors here now?” Jiwoo suddenly queries.

“I heard they have their own private club room upstairs. Immortals only.” Kibum replies, flashing everyone a knowing look.

The music changes and the lights are slowly dimmed.

“I’m going to get some fresh air.” You announce as everyone begins to head to the dance floor. You didn’t feel like dancing, in fact it was starting to get suffocating in the club for a reason you convinced yourself you didn't know.

“I-I’ll go with you.” Hoseok says, realizing you must not be feeling well. He follows you out the front entrance, despite being a dance lover; he didn’t think it was safe for you to go out alone.

It was nice not having rowdy music pumping into your ears, and it was alleviating to have fresh air to breathe again.

“You ok?” He asks.

“Yeah, I just needed a break from…that” You hint at the activity still going strong in the club.

Hoseok nods in agreement as he walks with you around the building in silence, hoping to find a quieter spot to allow you to clear your thoughts. Just as you round to the corner to the alley, an unexpected sight makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“What is it?” You barely hear Hoseok ask.

There’s a certain type of feeling that washes over you when you’re seeing someone you never thought you would see again, someone you had childishly harbored a secret crush on for several years, and despite having successfully handled those feelings by detaching yourself from the source and moving on, it only takes one glimpse of his familiar figure to open the floodgates. But there’s a different type of feeling when you see said person’s body pressed up against someone else, mouth hungrily devouring the lips of the person he was hovering over, hands in places you don’t even want to go into the details of.

“Who does he think he is?” Hoseok exclaims when he sees the scene splayed out in front of you. “Just because he’s immortal he can play with your feelings and not give a fuck?”

“Yoongi’s not like that” You defend, averting your eyes from the scene you weren’t meant to see. You felt like an intruder. You had no right to judge him, and yet there was still this sickness verging on disgust building in your chest. “L-let’s just go.” You announce, grabbing Hoseok’s arm and dragging him away before the two of you cause a scene.

…

Yoongi pulls away from the female professor.

“Did you hear that?” She asks, still breathing heavily, half-exposed chest rising and falling in rhythm with Yoongi’s own.

“What?” He huffs.

“Voices.” She peers over his shoulder and sees no one in the alleyway or the street it intersects with. “That’s strange. I could’ve sworn I heard a male and female voice.”

Yoongi shrugs. Did it matter? They were outside a club, who was going to judge? And it’s not like they had really started going at each other yet.

“You ready to go?” Yoongi says, hinting at finding a more private place so he can relieve himself the tension in his lower half, something he’s hoping will also free him of his troubled emotions that he’s never had to deal with, not since his cells have biologically stopped aging.

“Yoongi, I am by no means complaining, but what’s with you lately? You’ve never been this, proactive.” She raises an eyebrow.

“It must be the stress.” Yoongi mutters, turning his head and directly his gaze away from her mischievous smile. He knew it was a lie, just a cover up for what was really bothering him lately.

“Stress?” She scoffs, raising her eyebrows and clearly not buying the fib. “Forgive me for being so frank, but you seem sexually frustrated, in a mortal way.”

Yoongi doesn’t respond, mind wandering off to god knows where. He sees your chubby cheeks and puffy lips in the back of his mind, a little girl with wide doe-eyes, as round as flying saucers that sparkled like no other child he had ever seen. Back then it had been a refreshing contrast to his repetitive life, having been stuck at the age of 25 for however long it’s been. He had sincerely enjoyed tutoring you when you were younger, seeing you day in and day out, and watching you learn and soak in all the information he had personally spent time molding just for you. It was a nice break from his daily grind, figuring out the special way that your little brain viewed the world. Your way of thinking was something he had helped develop and refine, and it’s not that you were some prized product he prided himself in creating, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious to see how you would grow up, wondering if he would ever run into you again, by chance.

So when he saw you on that day during student lab tours, he was astonished for the first time in his long life. He’d go as far as to admit it was the first time he had trouble containing emotions he didn’t think immortal beings were capable of truly feeling. Never in the hundreds of years he has been alive has he ever felt so...overwhelmed by a mixture of things he couldn’t even begin to decipher. You had grown to become such a beautiful woman, facial features matured, formerly chubby body stretched to become long and slender, and yet your untainted eyes had remained the same as you stared at him, unable to hide your own disbelief.

Since then, he hasn’t stopped thinking about you.

“Yoongi?” He hears the woman call him back into the situation at hand.

“It’s nothing.” He mutters.

“It’s another woman, isn’t it?” She sighs.

Yoongi turns back to her knowing smiling.

“Let me guess, she’s mortal.”

“H-how-”

“It’s that new student of yours isn’t it?”

Yoongi’s jaw drops slightly. Was it that obvious?

“I saw the way you looked at her.” She murmurs. “That day I visited your lab. It’s a look I had never seen on an immortal.”

Yoongi’s not one to admit there are things in the world he doesn’t understand. He’s even more unwilling to admit that it has to do with his own emotions because he’s been studying the psychological states of immortal beings for decades now, and he thought he had most things figured out. He’s one of the most famous professors in said field, and yet he can’t even explain why you make his heart pound half a beat faster than it normally does or why your eyes specifically seem to haunt him in his sleep.

Truthfully, it makes him feel a bit uneasy, and he doesn’t know what to do.

…

You had never felt so reluctant to go to lab than you did the Monday after the events that occurred last weekend. You even put in some serious contemplation into calling in sick, but that would require you to actually speak to Yoongi through the phone and come up with a story that sounded legitimate enough to believe. You also realize that you can’t pretend to be sick forever and will have to face him eventually.

“Deep breathes. Deep breathes.” Why the hell were you being so dramatic? Get it together. He’s your professor.

Hoseok had offered to walk you to lab out of pure concern and although you declined, you were now straight up regretting that decision. You should’ve taken him up on his offer, because the minute you walk in the door, you’re met with the one scene you didn’t want to see.

An empty lab.

Where the fuck is everybody? You’re never the first person to arrive in lab. You’re eyes immediately dart around the room, no a single soul. Guess I’ll come back later. You were just about to turn and leave before-

“Y/N”

The voice makes you freeze in place.

“You’re here early,” Yoongi says, walking up to you.

“I-I…” You avert your eyes. “…it’s 8am” You swallow, wondering why the time you were actually supposed to show up was considered “early”.

“We start an hour later after midterms.” Yoongi responds. “I see you’ve forgotten. Or perhaps you wanted to get started on your experiment early?”

You mentally curse. How the fuck did you forget about the time change?

“I-I’ll c-come back later” You stutter incoherently, still avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“Is something wrong?” Yoongi frowns slightly. He takes a step towards you, and the moments he does, you take a step back. He doesn't voice anything at your strangely defensive action, but his jaw tenses at your obvious attempt to keep your distance from him.

“N-no” You lie, biting your lower lip under his detailed scrutiny.

“If there’s something wrong you need to tell me.” His voice is composed, but you can feel the strain in his tone. Actual strain? Or just your mind playing tricks?

Pathetic. You felt utterly pathetic at that moment. What were you supposed to say? I saw you making out with a woman last Saturday, and I’m a total mess because I know I’m out of line to have feelings for you, but I can’t help myself? The preposterousness was laughable, even to you. Because you fucking know things could never work out between you and Yoongi. You know he goes back to her, that beautiful immortal lady that you could only dream of being compared against. Completely and utterly pathetic.

“I’m just still half asleep.” You say, remaining as composed as you can manage. You quickly tell him that you’re going to grab a cup of coffee and come back to lab later, ending the matter then and there. You weren’t in the mood to think about it anymore, and Yoongi, as per usual, doesn’t prod.

…

The next few weeks fly by with you burying yourself in experiments, trying to interact with Yoongi as little as possible, he seemed to be MIA for the most part anyways, except on occasions where he would walk over and ask for updates on your work-which you would briefly explain out of obligation. He doesn’t really bring up your sudden change in demeanor nor does he point out your detached attitude towards him, and all you can do is hope he doesn’t find it strange or disrespectful.

Finals were coming up and the oncoming winter was bringing with it frosty winds and snow covered expanses of land that used to be green. The ground that was once scattered with colorful autumn leaves is now blanketed with untainted ivory sheets, acting as a subtle reminder that time is only observable with the existence of perceptible change.

You find yourself taking a walk around the rather empty campus on a stagnant Sunday afternoon, trying to take your mind off of school and the world and submerging yourself in a type of tranquility only attainable when you are alone. The temperature had gradually been dropping the past month, and you’re grateful that the cold weather allows you to wear multiple layers so you can bury your face in the woolen scarf wrapped around your neck and be unrecognizable to passerbys.

“Y/N?”

You initially don’t respond, thinking the sound was an illusion created by your mind, but the sound of footsteps crunching on loose snow brings your eyes to search across the vast expanse until you spot the dark figure approaching you.

“Professor Min?” You murmur, feeling the mild panic rise in your body as you watched him getting closer and closer. He was dressed in a long black coat that hung down to his knees with a a black turtleneck underneath. The exposed skin of his face and hands were glowing blindingly from the light reflecting off of the bleached earth. You were this close from sinking lower into your scarf, making a run for it, and pretending he had recognized the wrong person, but before you could make a steadfast escape, he’s already standing in front of you.

“Winter is refreshing, isn’t it?” He looks around fondly at the frozen branches of the frosty trees, admiring the stillness of the white scenery.

“Y-yes.”

There’s a short pause. You’re frozen in place, keeping your eyes fixated on anything other than his.

“Are you waiting for someone?” Yoongi tilts his head to look at you with an unreadable expression, gaze intent and emotionless like it always is; yet the subtle falter says he’s struggling to decide what to do.

“No.” You avert your eyes again after glancing at him, not wanting to give away how uncomfortable you were feeling under his scrutiny, but evidently failing.

He sighs. “It seems like you’ve been avoiding me for a while now.”

“I-I…” You’re shocked at how straightforward he was being all of a sudden. He hadn’t brought the matter up in weeks, and you were actually starting to become convinced he hadn’t noticed or didn’t care. You also didn’t think you had been so obvious, granted you practically ran away every time he tried to approach you, but in your defense, you were “busy”.

“Is something wrong?” There it is again, the same detached concern of a question he asks you every time he knows you’re struggling with some internal turmoil. You’ve spent enough time with him to become acquainted with how hard it is to get anything past him. Sometimes you wonder if it’s because he’s known you since you were 6, and other times you have these hunches that he somehow understands what you are feeling, despite not being able to feel such emotions himself.

“I’ve been bothered by something, but really it’s nothing and just kind of…personal.” You admit, shaking your head and waving it off, hoping he won’t offer to help and just leave it at that.

“I can help.”

Whether it’s because he has always genuinely wanted to help you or if it’s because he seems to know you better than you know yourself, you’ve always been under the impression that he won’t let it go until you’ve revealed the root of the problem. He’s the first person to ever make you feel comfortable in your own skin, ever since he first told you to not be afraid and you subconsciously decided from then on that you would trust him like a promise that will always shield your frightened heart with solace. And he has proven time and time again that he’ll never judge you for revealing your true self, which is precisely why you’re so powerless when it comes to wearing your heart on your sleeve when he looks you in the eye like you’re the only thing that matters to him in that moment.

The amount of comfort that can be conveyed in a pair of eyes so clear that they glisten with your own reflection is ineffable, and Yoongi’s is urging you to face what’s been bothering you for so long. And although he’s never judged you for spilling anything you’ve kept tucked away in your soul, it takes an insurmountable volume of effort for you to whisper your next words.

“But you’re the root of the problem.” You bite your bottom lip, feeling completely ridiculous that you just admitted something so embarrassing.

Yoongi diverts his eyes the first time, and you’re certain you’ve taken it too far and that, that was definitely the wrong thing to say.

“I’m sorry Professor Min, I-I have to go.” You quickly stutter, avoiding eye contact and preparing to runaway once again. You know you’re probably being blatantly obvious in your attempts to avoid him now, but you seriously don’t think it’s a good idea to stay because you’ll run the risk of getting the wrong idea again. You turn, but before you can take a single step in the other direction-

“Please, don’t leave.”

“W-what?” You half whisper, convinced that you might just be hearing things.

Yoongi himself can’t even believe he’s let those words escape. He swallows, not knowing if you were thinking he was being completely out of line or if he’s just made matters worse. He had been successful in thinking whatever he felt for you would eventually blow over, spending nights with different immortal women, trying to release whatever had been kept pent up inside, waiting for that foreign feeling to disappear. But none of it was working, and everything he’s been using as a distraction was only going as far as to act as temporary fixes that would never reach the essence of the problem.

He sighs, jaw tensing at your uncomfortable reaction to his statement.

“Just take my hand right now.”

You’re not sure if your ears were tricking you or if Yoongi was speaking in some language you didn’t understand, but you tentatively reach out to grab his hand despite your brain being uncertain of what exactly was going on. At that moment, your mind was completely blank, and you’re body was just acting to its own accord. You know Yoongi can feel your more than obvious tremble, your whole body shaking with apprehension laced confusion. But his hand is so warm, youthful flesh feeling as smooth as it has always looked, and you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from how beautiful his veins are twirling under his partially transparent skin.

Yoongi almost chuckles a little at your innocent act, how you actually thought he was ordering you to hold his hand when he was just using the phrase figuratively.

“Not literally.” He murmurs gently with that signature half smile. He shakes his head with a sigh but continues to grip onto your hand firmly and turn your body around to face him.

You slowly lift your eyelids to meet his dark, crystal clear orbs. The face of the man that you seemed to know all to well because it has never left the hidden crevices of your mind, not when you were a little girl and certainly not now.

“For as long as you are willing, please stay.” He says even when he knows there will come a day when he’ll be walking this world without you.

“B-but...”

“Ah, I’m being so unclear.” He sighs, and you can almost hear him take a deep breath to calm his own nerves. “Would you believe me if I told you I’ve fallen in love with you?” Even though he’s been alive for hundreds of years, the phrase feels unfamiliar-this experience itself is completely foreign to the point where he feels mildly terrified. “And although I still can’t make sense of it completely, I want to be with you.”

“Why?” You hear your own voice distantly, like it didn’t actually emanate from your throat. It wasn’t really a question in search of reason, but rather a reflex of disbelief. You were unable to believe he was doing this, surely he knows that these years you are with him will only feel like an infinitesimal second in the backdrop of his eternal life. Falling in love with you, a mortal, will only cause him pain the long run because his mind will most certainly not be freed from these deeply emotional memories.

“Y-Yoongi” You stutter realizing he’s at loss for words, trying to calm your racing heart. “I love you, but -” It comes out as a faint utter, inaudible had he not been leaning so close to you.

“Because you have gifted me eyes that are capable of producing tears, the audacity to love someone with all of my heart.” He knows the creation of these particular memories will cause him anguish for the rest of his endless days, but he is more than willing to trade such perpetual torment in exchange for these ephemeral years with you. “So please, don’t leave me.” He says again.

You can feel the swelling of your eyes, years of pent up emotions threatening to spill over, but you manage to hold on. “I will stay with you as long as my life will allow.” You whisper, and for once you’re glad your voice is steady, supported by the utmost resolve because it’s what you’ve wanted since you were young. To stay by his side, to be allowed to love him with all of your heart and to have that love reciprocated.

He leans in to kiss you, lips hesitantly tracing over yours, uncertain of his own actions but somehow unable to stop himself. You feel your eyelids close as his gentle motion grows deeper, conveying a sense of need that is interlaced with the sadness that is blossoming in his heart. Yoongi’s lips are tender and warm; his technique is practiced yet strangely clumsy, like he’s afraid to hurt you. He tastes like the freshly fallen snow landing on your cheeks, and for some reason the wetness of salty tears.

Your eyes flutter open, and that’s when you see the source of the saline fluid. He pulls away minimally as you reach up to wipe the teardrop sliding down his cheek, staring at the crystal droplet through your own blurry vision. His lips curve up into a faint smile as his eyes soak in every curve and contour of your face, gaze lingering a bit longer when it reaches your eyes, engraving the evanescent image of you into the part of his memory that he will protect everlastingly.

“I will never forget you.” He murmurs, slowly pulling you into a tight hug.

Min Yoongi knows that he’s kissing your sword. He knows this is the closest he’ll ever come to seeing an end to himself, the shattering of what was once untouchable, the immortality that used to be the object of desire to those who could not obtain it, but Yoongi would give it all away if it meant he could keep you in his heart.

The remnants of what you will one day leave behind will be an eternal reminder of his salvation, the instant in his life where the numbness of endless void was filled with all the stars in the night sky. And however fleeting, he knows it will be the one thing that will never change, because what truly lasts for an eternity is no that which is continually replaced in order to endure but rather those distinctively unforgettable moments that he will hold onto until the end of the universe.

And if there is a meaning to existence, mortal or immortal, Yoongi thinks he has found it.

...

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