#I actually drew this like... last summer?

[matchalovertrait]

He's smiling a lil in the last pic..... trust 😁

Start from the beginning (Gen 2)

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NOTE: Okay okay, let's do this again! As some of you know, I have the Japan and Colombia trips in the queue. We will be switching back and forth between them, which will take about a month. This was done on purpose for the ✨ summer vibes ✨ (even though I did get a little carried away). At this point, I'm embracing the slow pace! It is what it is 😅 And since this has been going on for a long time, please don't hesitate to ask questions for clarity.

NOTE: This is the "Baby Store and More" lot by madevila123 :)

[The Baby Store]

[Antonio had to buy baby gifts for three different couples: Felix and Lilith Psyded, Lex and Jacqueline Mattingly, and Rafa Bonilla and Melissa Ramsay – so, for his colleague, boss, new friend, and their respective partners!]

FRANKIE: HOW MANY???

ANTONIO: Three registries.

FRANKIE: You’re joking!

ANTONIO: I’m really not.

FRANKIE: Jeez, were they all planned pregnancies?

[One of Frankie’s motives for taking part in the science baby research was to help same-sex couples have biological kids. However, Frankie isn’t a fan of children. Kids are loud, germ-ridden, and expensive.]

[Meanwhile...]

DANI: I still can’t believe that’s how you told Antonio you knew who his dad was.

[Yoltic let out a nervous laugh.]

YOLTIC: My guilt hasn’t gone away yet... I think it got to his head.

DANI: He’s convinced he looks just like his dad, but I don’t see it. Nobody else does either; otherwise wouldn’t someone have spoken up? His face is on a few billboards advertising the law firm, and Del Sol Valley has many Latin American immigrants...

YOLTIC: And you can’t find pictures of Fernando Romero online. He’s only been seen in person.

DANI: AND who else will make the connection by taking a photo of Antonio and DRAWING a mustache on him out of boredom?

YOLTIC: Not very many people, I imagine? I’m his only stylist, after all.

[One evening, Yoltic sought entertainment by thinking of ways to change Antonio’s hairstyle. He sketched a mustache out of sheer curiosity, and then a strange familiarity struck him.]

[The mustache-wearing Antonio reminded him of Fernando, rumored member of Los Venenosos. Years ago, Yoltic saw Fernando on the streets of Mexico. He was stunned, but didn’t act on it. That’s what you do to stay alive: Don’t get involved in the cartel’s affairs.]

[So, Yoltic drew Fernando next to the image of Antonio on a sheet of printing paper. The resemblance was uncanny. He held onto it until he confronted Antonio.]

[Yoltic felt brave enough to do so because Antonio was harmless. Moody, yes; but a good, kind-hearted guy.]

ANTONIO: A baby book about ghosts? It’s not on the registry, but it could be something Felix and Lilith would like.

FRANKIE: I say stick to the registry and only get ONE gift. You see? All kids do is take all your money.

ANTONIO: You’re not exactly scrambling for funds if you have a vacation home in Oasis Springs.

FRANKIE: I still sleep peacefully at night knowing I can’t accidentally knock somebody up.

YOLTIC: Same here!

[Frankie and Yoltic ran to each other and high-fived.]

FRANKIE: People who actually smile! I’ve been saved, thank you!

FRANKIE: You got hit with three registries, too?

DANI: No, just one for Lex and Jackie.

FRANKIE: See, how does Toño do it? He’s the quietest yet most popular one here.

YOLTIC: We need a detective in our group. Maybe they can get to the bottom of this mystery.

ANTONIO: A bigger mystery would be why I happen to be a magnet for the loudest, most talkative people in the universe.

[The four of them laughed. They usually teased each other, with Antonio being the main target. He honestly didn’t mind that.]

DANI: Since we’re all here, should we shop together? It’ll be fun!

ANTONIO: Okay, but I get dibs on the first nice thing we see. I was here first.

YOLTIC: Can’t argue with that.

DANI: It’s only fair after bullying you, too.

[Upstairs...]

YOLTIC: We are definitely NOT buying any of the clothes here. Why is everything literally polyester? Disgusting.

DANI: Oh, isn’t this walker cute?

ANTONIO: The elephants are nice.

FRANKIE: Research has shown that walkers aren’t necessary. Babies can walk on their own.

YOLTIC: Frankie, get up!

[Antonio watched as his loved ones interacted. This was... pleasant. It always was, but this time he truly got to relax and take it in. As much as going against his grandfather stressed him out, it also felt incredibly freeing.]

[crow-caller]

I’m sure you don’t want to be known as the Alex Aster person, but I read “Summer in the City” and I have something to report (I tried checking if you’ve talked about this before but, eh, you know how bad tumblr search is; nonetheless, pardon if this has already been brought to your attention).

There is a scene around page 250 ish (library book, returned) where our main characters go to a Barnes and Nobles and they look at fantasy books. They have this exchange:

So somehow, in a book that’s not about LIGHTLARK, Aster has managed to respond ti Lightlark criticism.

I may have just read an advanced copy, but lightlark 100% did not have a map when I read it. I need someone with a first printing to verify that, but it distinctly did not and I drew my own imagined version

While I'm here discussing fantasy maps I was reminded of my favourite extremely shit fantasy map.... yes, the best fantasy does have a map. However. So many fantasy books have extremely shitty maps. Case in point.

ACOTAR map is so so bad it's incredible. It's JUST ENGLAND. Then a misshapen Ireland (they're bad guys), and this empty mass of fantasy Europe.... with all huge awkward chunk of terrain in the midst of smooth nothingness. There's next to no details about anything, the locations with names are awkwardly jammed in, and to let you know they're the most important, the night court is twice the size of everyone else.

The official lightlark map is actually, looking it up, better than the ACOTAR but still bad

For one, it's.... Europe? Again? Am I wrong or is this inexplicably shaped like Europe.

What's weirdest to me is that the map of Lightlark, the island.... goes off page, as if to imply further landmass. But it is an island, so how much bigger could it be? There's much nicer details and terrain here, but several I can't recall ever existing in the books— the Last Tower?? Of course, the funniest detail included is the goddamn Abbey. Of which we still don't know what religion it represents or what the symbols in the window are, let alone mean, which has only appeared once in 3 long books.... and here on the map.

[freshgreenmilk]

Lightbulb with her shiny stickk

[squashberri-art]

Old Buffy Doodles put shoved into one picture

[loneliestpeopleinnewport]

The Core Four in 3x09, The Game Plan.

[orthoceras]

Ah, lo vedo! Non hai core!

my propaganda for 2008 ROH don giovanni continues. also thank you miah persson for my life

[cherryblossms]

i really miss group rp, i miss being an admin too. i just don't think i'd be able to run a successful group anymore with how fickle my muse is.

[hana-bobo-finch]

I should probably just go to bed because I’m on the verge of posting every single thought I’ve had this past week eeggegeheheheh me when I don’t have my outlet to scream into the void

[desertowlet]

My Little Ponywashing

The levels of miscommunication these two would get into are off the charts

Extra thoughts behind the designs under the cut because I've been rotating these guys in my mind for the past couple weeks :') I didn't realize how much I missed drawing ponies until now haha

Some extra details on the names/species choices!

Cosmic Comet is actually part pegasus (from his father's side) and earth pony (from his mother's side) I've been juggling around the idea that because of how physically strong/dense earth ponies tend to be compared to other ponies, he's probably not the most powerful flyer compared to his peers, which might have been something that brought him to be so fascinated with space travel and piloting— the galaxy's your oyster if you let the ship do all the flying for you! His foalhood nickname by his mother was "Shooting Star" :')

Midnight Moonflower is probably my favorite design out of all of them— she's the first one I drew as well :') It took a bit to decide which pony species she would be— I really loved the idea of her being an earth pony who is often overlooked and underestimated... but I feel like unicorn was such an obvious choice for her, I eventually caved (maybe I'll post an earth pony version of her in another post ♡)

Junebug is actively participating in the evil unicorn allegations (seriously why are there so many unicorn villains 😭) I decided to name him after these summer bugs that terrorized me as a kid, I felt like it would be a fitting name for him. If only he decided to go into entomology or something, but I guess it just wasn't good enough of a field for him 🙄

Easy Breezy is a hippogriff/seapony (couldn't resist the "fish out of water" motif he kinda has going on in the game, being an inexperienced intern completely out of his depth on a year-long voyage in outer space, (and a last-minute addition at that!)) like his name suggests he really goes to the flow, like the ocean currents... (much to the dismay of his parents)

Torque Wrench is probably the most fun one to draw, look at this stocky, grumpy earth pony :) I dunno if he'd still have a sneaker collection in this universe... maybe a bunch of custom horseshoes?

[smutmind]

Caught Pink Handed

IVE Wonyoung X Male Reader

“Oppa?”

You froze mid-stroke, heart stalling. Her voice wasn’t surprised. Just curious. You turned slowly—hand still half-wrapped around yourself—and there she was.

Wonyoung. Nineteen. All legs, lush hair, candy-colored top riding high on her ribs. That denim skirt brushed her ankles as she stepped inside like she owned the place.

"Didn’t your mom teach you to lock doors?" she asked, one brow raised.

You fumbled for your blanket, too slow. Her eyes were already on the laptop screen—your folder open. Her photos. Her in that low-cut tank last summer, the bikini on your roof deck, the mirror selfie she’d posted and deleted in under five minutes.

“Seriously?”

She laughed. Not cruel—worse. It was soft. Disbelieving. Almost flattered.

“Holy shit,” she murmured, stepping closer. “You were actually jerking off to me.”

You couldn’t speak. She tilted her head, watching your shame crawl over you.

“That’s what you do when we hang out? Sneak photos? Save them for later?”

Her tone was sugar-laced poison. She came closer, the heat of her body brushing yours without touch.

“I come over all the time,” she whispered. “Your sister trusts me. And you’re just here, like some sad little perv, getting off in your gamer chair.”

You swallowed hard. Your hands stayed limp at your sides.

She leaned in. The scent of her was everywhere—floral shampoo, warm skin, something bubble-sweet under it all.

“Did you ever think what would happen if she found out?”

You shook your head, throat dry.

Wonyoung smiled, slow and terrible. “No, you didn’t. Because all you were thinking about was my tits, right? My ass in this skirt?”

She stepped between your knees. Her hand landed on your thigh, fingers feather-light.

“Look at you,” she said. “Still hard.”

She leaned closer until her lips hovered beside your ear.

“You don’t deserve this,” she said. “But maybe I’ll let you have it anyway.”

You stared at her, stunned. She stepped back.

“Clean up. Sit down. Don’t say a word.”

And then she curled onto your bed like it was hers, phone in hand, not even glancing at you.

The silence stretched like wire.

You knew this wasn’t over.

She lay sideways on your bed, scrolling like nothing happened. One knee bent, heel bouncing. That skirt rode up her thigh just enough to torment.

You sat in your chair, half-hard, half-humiliated.

Then came her voice. Casual. Sharp.

"Come here."

You stood, slow, still not meeting her eyes. She patted the mattress beside her.

"Closer."

You knelt on the floor. Her gaze flicked down.

“Good boy.”

Wonyoung shifted, planting both feet flat, spreading her knees just a little. The hem of her skirt drew tight. You tried not to look. Failed.

She smirked. "You really couldn’t help yourself, huh? All those times I bent over in front of you. All the outfits I wore just to mess with you…”

You blinked. “Wait—”

“Oh please,” she said, eyes gleaming. “You think I didn’t know? You’re so easy to tease, oppa. That little twitch you get when I suck on a straw? The way you stare at my legs when I kick my shoes off?”

She ran a hand down her own thigh. “You don’t hide it well.”

Then she paused. Her smile dropped, just enough.

"But this?" she said, nodding toward your desk. "This was pathetic.”

Silence.

Her voice softened. “You wanted me without asking. Like I was just a thing you could play with when you’re lonely.”

That landed hard.

She leaned forward, touched your cheek.

“I should be pissed,” she whispered. “I should tell your sister.”

Your stomach dropped.

“But I won’t.”

Relief. A breath caught in your throat.

“Not if you listen,” she added, sitting back, legs spreading wider. “Not if you do everything I say.”

You nodded. Too fast. Too eager.

She laughed.

“Strip.”

You hesitated.

“Now. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

You obeyed—shirt, pants, everything. She watched like it was a show she’d paid for.

Then she lifted her foot and tapped your chest with her toes. “On your back. Floor.”

Cool wood against your skin. You lay there, exposed. Waiting.

She stepped over you. That skirt hovered above your face as she straddled you, her panties damp, pressed against the fabric.

She crouched lower, letting her heat ghost over your lips.

"You want to taste what you've been jerking off to?"

You nodded.

“Then beg.”

“Please,” you breathed.

“Please what?”

“Please let me taste you, Wonyoung.”

She smiled. “No.”

She stood, turned, dropped onto all fours above you. Her ass now hovered over your chest, the cotton clinging wet between her cheeks.

“Here’s what you get,” she said, yanking her panties aside. “You make me cum. I decide if you get anything.”

You grabbed her hips. She slapped your hand.

“No touching. You work with your mouth only.”

Then she lowered herself. You moaned against her—she was soaked, warm, slick and tangy. You licked, desperate, your tongue exploring every fold, flicking her clit until she twitched.

“Fuck, oppa,” she gasped. “You eat pussy better than I thought.”

She rocked against your face. Hair fell like a curtain around your head. Her moans came sharper now, louder.

“Keep going—don’t you dare stop—"

She stiffened, thighs clamping, then shuddered hard. A whimper escaped her lips.

She didn’t move right away. Just breathed heavy, panting above you. Then she sat up and twisted to face your flushed, aching cock.

“Now you get your reward,” she said, grinning like a devil.

She straddled your thighs, hair falling around her face as she dipped her head low. Her lips found you, slow at first—tongue teasing under the crown, then sliding down, swallowing you whole with a messy, greedy hum.

You groaned, fists bunching the sheets.

She came up for air, her chin glistening. “You moan so pretty, oppa.”

Then she leaned in, her chest brushing your lips.

“You want these too?”

You didn’t answer fast enough. She reached down and slapped your cock lightly.

“Say it.”

“Yes—please.”

She smirked and pulled her shirt up, baring soft, full breasts tipped in pink. You sucked one into your mouth, her skin warm and flushed, her nipple hardening instantly.

“Good boy,” she whispered, grinding down onto your cock with her soaked panties still between you.

She rocked against you like that, hips rolling, nipples in your mouth, her breath catching every time your teeth grazed. Then she lifted, reached back, tugged the fabric aside.

“Condom?”

You shook your head, dazed. She laughed.

“Course not.”

She sank onto you bare—tight, dripping, so warm it made your back arch. Her hands found your chest as she bounced in slow, deliberate thrusts.

“God,” she panted, “you’re so fucking deep—”

Your hands gripped her waist. Her tits bounced with every movement, your mouth catching them when you could. She leaned in, kissing you wet and fast, tongues tangling.

A sudden beep—she glanced at the digital clock on your shelf.

“Five minutes,” she said, laughing breathlessly. “Let’s make them count.”

She climbed off and flipped forward onto all fours, looking back over her shoulder, hair falling in waves.

“Come get what you’ve been dreaming about.”

You knelt behind her, drove into her hard. She yelped, then pushed back into you with every thrust.

“Harder,” she gasped. “Don’t hold back, oppa—fuck me like you mean it.”

Your hands gripped her hips. The slap of skin echoed, loud and obscene, her moans rising higher, then breaking into whimpers.

“I’m gonna cum again—don’t stop—don’t you fucking stop—”

She spasmed around you, mouth open in a silent cry as her body jerked. You barely held it together. She collapsed forward, then twisted onto her back, eyes wild.

“Finish on my face,” she demanded. “Do it now.”

You knelt over her. She opened her mouth, tongue out, eyes locked to yours.

You groaned, cock twitching, and came hard—ropes of white striping her lips, chin, cheeks, even her collarbone.

“Fuck,” she whispered. “Just in time.”

She grabbed her panties from the floor and wiped her face quickly, licking her fingers clean between swipes. Then she pulled her shirt down, smoothed her skirt, and darted into the bathroom.

You barely had time to tuck yourself back in before the doorbell rang.

Wonyoung peeked out, cheeks flushed but clean.

She mouthed one word before she opened the door:

“Oppa.”

[moncuries]

i realized that my last doodle was my first kevin drawing and i actually really! did not like how i drew him. so here! A very rough idea of what i picture

in summer, freckles maybe.

[inbabylontheywept]

I went to summer camp as a kid. Six times, actually. I have many fond memories, and even more terrible ones. Here's one that's a mixture of both.

To set the stage, I had just spent the night in the infirmary due to a big fight I had with almost my entire tent. They never wanted to sleep, and were always obnoxiously loud with a lantern dubbed "the sun" that let me see movement around me with my eyes closed from the shadows passing over it. I was sleep-deprived, overstimulated, autistic-but-unaware-of-that, and twelve years old, and I already disliked these girls because they talked shit about me behind my back and took advantage of naivety. This unfortunate combination lead to a blowout meltdown in which I said some things I regret, so the counselors decided it'd be best if I spent some time away.

Now, this had the unforeseen consequence of putting me in a place with less supervision. This place also had some strange bugs. They were small, about the size of my pinky fingernail. Most of their bodies were in their tails, which curved downwards like a reverse scorpion. They were black and white, sort of striped, with six legs and no wings. Their fangs were very thin, but long, extending out from their faces like brownish parentheses. They had a propensity to bite.

Perhaps you can see where this is going.

While messing around with these bugs, I noticed that when they bit, they didn't just chomp and leave. They sunk their fangs in and they kept them there for a long time. Naturally, I decided to see what would happen if I let them, nay, encouraged them to bite me, as an experiment. When would they extricate their incisors from my flesh? Would my reaction to the bites vary depending on the amount of time each bite lasted?

I let these bugs bite me four times, once for about 13 minutes, once for about 5 minutes, once for about 1 minute, and once for 45 seconds (I didn't have a watch, so these are estimates). Then, I forged a peaceful resolution with my tentmates and we went to watch the beginning of Color War.

Except, turns out it's stupid to let unidentified insects taste your blood. The bites swelled up huge. I got chills. My stomach hurt intensely. My counselor took me back to the infirmary to get them checked out.

Needless to say, this was not easy to explain to the nurse on duty ("WHY" "For science!"). His first thought was we needed to figure out what bit me. If only it were that simple.

We combed through the databases for insects in the state. We expanded our search to arachnids, even, although it certainly wasn't one. I drew a little mock-up on a Post-It to show him. There was not a single match. To this day, I have no idea what it was that I let bite me. I was given orders to come back tomorrow to get them checked by a doctor, and also return every morning and night for a week to put warm compresses and medicinal ointments on the bites, and a strong directive to never do anything like that again, with a side of "What the hell were you thinking????"

A couple of months later, after camp, I went to my friend's bar mitzvah. The woman in the row behind me tapped my shoulder. She asked me how the bug bites were. It was the doctor from the infirmary.

-- @dr-robert-chase-apologist

That was a beautiful ending. I have a similar story, but less gruesome than letting bugs bite me. My family used to go up to trips to the Mogollon Mountains two or three times a year. The woods were where my dad always felt the most at peace.

My dad used that time to hike through the trees. And I grew into that eventually, but when I was very little, I felt a particular kinship to the small things of this world. Worms and beetles and woodlice and those peculiar Arizona grasshopers with wings the size of jellybeans and tummies the size of my thumb.

And on one trip, there was an incredible number of these beautiful, fuzzy caterpillars. Picture below.

I went a little crazy about them. They were fluffy, and they were had pretty colors, and they had the cutest, softest, stubbiest little suction cup feets that I'd ever seen. Watching them climb up stalks of grass or over fallen branches was enchanting.

So I caught, like, twenty of them, and most got put in a little terrarium where I could watch them do cute caterpillar things. Mostly eat fresh pine needles and wriggle gregariously. But some I kept out just to play with. I'd put them on my palm, and I'd watch them crawl all the way up to my neck, then I'd move them somewhere else. They tickled, and I was charmed to be their jungle gym.

But apparently, those little hairs break off like fiberglass, and they have some kind of venom on them, so I had these strange, wriggling, almost tattoo like rashes all over my arms up to my neck. Very embarrassing to explain to my parents.

There was an entomologist on the street that I grew up on named Freddie. And he wasn't just a bug expert, he was specifically a caterpillar expert. He had a garden in his backyard that was specifically tailored for butterflies, he'd always draw in clouds of Monarchs during their migration. My parents asked him about the mysterious itchy caterpillars, and he said they were lophocampa ingens, and that I was lucky that I didn't inhale those hairs. They can stick inside your throat and make it swell closed. Scary little bastards.

I'd still see them after that, but never in such numbers. And while I appreciated them, I always tried to keep a few feet of distance. Just to be safe.

(Also, just wanted to clarify that I didn't remember the name for 20 years, I googled "irticating caterpillar Mogollon", and saw the picture. It wasn't until I read the caption that I was like oh yeaaaaah, that's what he called them. But it was one of those memories I could never have pulled at will.)

[lupinqs]

FOCUS ━━ paige bueckers x reader

☆ ━ summary: practice gets a little steamy…

☆ ━ word count: 3.1K

☆ ━ warnings: smut (p eating, fingering, kinda public sex but ig not really)

☆ ━ links: my masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: okay so this is SUCHHH a scrap, i have not proofread it either, it’s just not great, i’m not very happy with it but i wanted to post something so here it is i hope you all like it more than i do LOL

YOU’RE in Maryland, visiting Paige’s family. You and her got here a little under a week ago following the first round of Geno’s summer sessions. It’s been a lazy few days so far, full of long mornings spent in bed, video games on the couch with Drew, and afternoons tanning in the summer sun. It’s been nice; a solid break that the both of you need before what Paige has dubbed her “world tour” of the summer. You’re tagging along for parts of it—though not all of it—and it’s safe to say you’re not excited for the amount of plane rides and jet lag you’re about to face.

However, you and Paige both decided that a week of sitting on your asses might do more harm than good, so you’ve gathered yourselves at the local high school gym, getting some hoops in.

A few buddies of Paige’s, as well as Drew, tagged along in the beginning, but as the hours grew longer, they began to fizzle out. Drew is the last to leave, heading to his actual basketball practice with his own team.

And then it’s just you and Paige.

The two of you could leave now; you’ve certainly been here practicing long enough. However, you can see the itch of a smirk in Paige’s face and you know what she’s going to say before the words even leave her mouth.

“1v1?” she asks, a playful challenge in her eyes.

You smirk, taking the challenge as you always seem to do. “Not too scared you’ll lose again?”

Paige rolls her eyes at the reminder of the two of you’s last one-on-one game. She waves a hand, saying dejectedly, “You cheated.”

“Nope, you’re just a sore loser.”

Paige just shakes her head, grinning. “I’m not a sore loser because I didn’t lose.”

You decide that you’re not entertaining this. You’re well aware that she will continue bickering with you about it until you give in, admitting that she’s right and you’re not. It’s always this way; she will literally go on for hours if you let her. But, nonetheless, you both know the truth—which is, you definitely beat her in that game.

And, when you begin the game, the way the first few minutes are going makes you believe you may win this one, too. You’re up a good few points—Paige has been slacking on defense and you’ve been picking up the pace on offense. When you get another bucket on her, you grin widely, calling to your girlfriend, “Gee, you a little rusty, P Boogers?” You add the nickname KK’s created, knowing how much it annoys her.

However, Paige doesn’t bother responding, instead abruptly ripping her white long-sleeve over her head and tossing it across the gym on the other side of the court. Your grin falters at that, eyes soaking up Paige’s body. Jesus. Already, you can feel your heart start to race (and it’s not from the basketball game). Paige is wearing a Nike black sports bra, and, with her shirt now shed, the silver chains are on full display along her chest. Her basketball shorts are also rolled down, so that her whole torso is practically exposed, abs included. You feel your mouth salivate at the sight of Paige’s skin glistens with sweat, the way her abs flex, the way her arms look (you seem to grow fonder and fonder of them every day, especially since Paige has been in the weight room more often).

A small smirk paints Paige’s face as she takes in your surprised expression. She just raises her eyebrows, saying with a shit-eating grin, “What? It’s hot in here.”

You roll your eyes at Paige’s obviousness, opting to resume the game rather than respond to her. She’s back on offense, you on defense. You defend as you always would, hands raised, feet tracking your opponent’s, eyes flitting between the ball in Paige’s hand and Paige’s face. However, as your eyes trail between the two, they can’t help but track Paige’s abs, the sweat shining on her porcelain skin, the way her chains go with her every movement. You swallow thickly, doing your absolute best to concentrate on the game instead of your extremely sexy girlfriend.

“Focus, sweetheart,” Paige teases, dribbling the ball slowly. The nickname makes your heart stutter. “You’re gonna lose if you keep staring.”

And then she powers forward, scoring a layup with no hesitation. She grins and cocks her head at your bad defense, tsking as she asks, “Where’d that focus of yours go, hmm?”

Your cheeks flush at her words, and you grab the basketball, doing your best to lock in. “Nowhere, I am focused,” you argue, trying to get past the blonde’s defense.

“Oh, sure,” Paige murmurs in your ear, now with her front pressed flush against your back as you dribble, attempting to find a hole. She catches the way your face turns, looking to get through, but instead your eyes once again catch the chains that have begun to stick to her skin due to the sweat. Her smirk only grows, and she adds slowly, mockingly, “You are focused. Just… not on the game, yeah?”

“Shut up,” you grunt against her, trying to get a shot in. She doesn’t let you, blocking it. You groan a little as her hands snake around the ball, effectively stealing it from you.

“I will once you tell me what you’re so focused on that has you distracted from the game. You were just doing so well, beating me for once,” she says, egging you on.

You scoff, snapping, “You know damn well what I’m focused on.”

“I wanna hear you say it, baby,” she taunts, blue eyes squinting with mischief.

You hold her gaze for a long second. You could give her what she wants, say that the only thing you’re really able to focus on right now is just how fucking sexy she looks and how much you’d love to rip her clothes off right here, right now and fuck her. But, of course, you don’t. You’re just as stubborn as Paige is, so you simply utter, “No.”

A look of annoyance—that satisfies you very much—flits across her face. She shrugs, saying, “Fine then.”

You continue the game, but things seem to only be looking worse for you. No matter how much you try to fight it, try to focus on the basketball and the basketball only, it’s like your eyes have a mind of their own, and they seem to stay locked on Paige’s body. And, of course, Paige takes every opportunity she can to flaunt it, knowing full well the effect it has on you. Her smirk never fades, especially as she gets closer and closer to winning.

However, it seems like Paige has finally had enough with the teasing. She drives to the basket, right past you (you let her; you’re done with this game), making a final layup. She then turns to you, catching sight of the way you stand there watching her, having not bothered to defend that final play. “Game over,” Paige announces. You can’t help but notice how her voice is lower, more huskier than usual. It means you’re probably going to get what you want.

You step closer, eyes darkening with pure want. You’ve given up pretending that you don’t. “You’re such a tease, Bueckers.”

Paige raises an eyebrow, her smirk turning into a full-blown grin. “Oh, yeah?” She steps closer, her body almost brushing against yours. “Maybe you just needa learn to focus better.”

The air between you is charged, and before you can even respond, Paige has you pushed against the wall of the gym, her chest pressed against yours, her face so close her nose nearly touches your own. The sound of the both of your breathing fills the space, heavy and expectant.

Paige’s eyes lock onto yours, and—without an ounce of hesitation—she leans in, her lips capturing yours in a heated kiss. It’s almost instinctual at this point, the way your respond to it. Your hands find their way to Paige’s back, pulling her closer as the blonde’s tongue traces your lips slowly, seeking entry. You willingly part them, allowing Paige to explore your mouth passionately. She’s going fast, and if you weren’t so used to it, it might’ve been hard for you to keep up. Nevertheless, you do, albeit with a couple teeth clashes.

Paige’s hands slide from their spot on your hips up to cup your face, angling your head to deepen the kiss. Your own fingers trail from her back, tracing her sweaty skin, until they thread through Paige’s hair, effectively ruining the once slicked back bun (not that either of you care much).

Paige breaks away from your mouth, trailing a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline. You can’t help but tilt your head back, granting the blonde better access to your neck. You can hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears and the shallow pants escaping your mouth as Paige’s lips find the sensitive spot just below your ear.

And then you feel her teeth biting. It’s not enough to truly hurt, but it’s enough to elicit a whimper from you—a sound that Paige loves. She does it again, gets the same reaction, and then soothes the area with a flick of her tongue. Paige’s kisses trail down the expanse of your neck, surely leaving marks that you know you’ll have to cover up tomorrow. But you don’t have it in yourself to care much about that because each press of Paige’s lips, each gentle scrape of her teeth, each soothing lap of her tongue, sends shivers down your spine and heat through your core.

Your hands tighten in Paige’s hair as she reaches the hollow of your throat, sucking hard. You feel your hips involuntarily arch toward Paige, seeking more contact. The blonde smirks against your neck, pleased with your reaction. She moves lower, kissing along the line of your collarbone, hands sliding under your tank top to caress the soft skin of your stomach.

You feel your breath hitch as Paige grows more insistent, tongue darting out to taste the salty tang of sweat that permeates your skin. Her hands travel upward beneath your shirt, fingers brushing the underside of your breasts. Your eyes flutter open at that, remembering where you are.

“Paige, we really shouldn’t,” you say, but your voice shakes and your hands find their way to the blonde’s abs, tracing the defines muscles and betraying your words. “Anyone could walk in,” you add, attempting to keep yourself composed.

Paige’s lips capture yours in a fierce kiss, silencing your protests. Her hands are cupping your breasts through your sports bra now, and she manages to reassure you between kisses, “No one’s gonna walk in.”

And, just like that, your resolve seems to crumble. That always happens with Paige—it’s so easy with her, and, though, sometimes it does frustrate you, you usually don’t regret it. “Fuck, P,” you gasp, fingers digging into your girlfriend’s skin.

She grins against your lips, and her right hand slowly but surely trails its way from your chest to the waistband of your shorts. It slips beneath them and you feel yourself growing hotter—and wetter—with each passing second.

Paige’s fingers slowly begin to tease your clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles that make your knees go weak. It’s in stark contrast to her kisses, so fast-paced you can hardly breathe. Eventually, you manage to break the kiss, gasping raggedly, voice a mix of desperation and need, “Quit teasing.”

Paige’s smirk only seems to widen, and her pupils—which are blown so much that her blue eyes look nearly black—are full of lust. “Am I teasing?” she asks, fingers sliding through your slick folds.

You feel your heartbeat stutter and your core pulsing with utter need. “You know you are,” you mutter, glaring. She presses her thumb harder against your clit, though it’s not in the way you need it (and she knows it). “Quit it.”

“As you wish,” she murmurs, lips ghosting along your earlobe. Without hesitation, she dips two fingers into you, the sudden intrusion causing you to gasp loudly, arching against Paige’s touch.

“Shit,” you breathe out, hands gripping Paige’s sides for support. Your head leans back against the gym wall, and Paige resumes the kissing on your neck, marking it up even more. Her fingers continue inside you with a steady rhythm, each thrust drawing out sharp gasps from your lips.

“So wet for me, baby,” Paige says against your skin, biting your shoulder lightly as she curls her fingers. You outright moan at that, and she asks, “How long you been dripping like this, waitin’ for me?”

“All day,” you admit between whimpers, practically shaking against Paige. Her fingers go deeper, fucking up into you harder. “Paige, please,” you beg, eyes squeezing shut.

Paige’s lips curve into a knowing smile. “Please what, baby?” she teases, fingers hitting that spot inside you that makes your legs feel like jelly.

“Fuck, your mouth,” you manage to gasp out between moans, body heating up with each passing second. “Please, P, I want your mouth.”

You watch as Paige’s eyes darken with hunger at your words, and you feel your heartbeat begin to quicken. “Whatever you want,” the blonde murmurs, voice filled with promise. She pulls her fingers out of you, savoring the way you practically whimper at the loss. Then, with deliberate slowness, she sinks to her knees before you, her hands sliding your shorts down with her.

Paige glances up at you, blue eyes full of a mischief and a smirk that you’ve had a habit of kissing off her face. You can’t help but think about just how fucking good Paige looks like this, cheeks rosy, lips kiss-swollen, sweat shining along every expanse of skin that’s exposed—which is a lot. Your eyes wander from her face to her chest and shoulders to her abs and back. And when your eyes meet hers again, the look in them… Jesus fuck. The sight is genuinely almost enough to make you come right then and there.

And you know that Paige knows the effect she has on you. You can tell in the way her smirk sits on her face, the way her eyebrows raise slightly, the way she leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your inner thigh—so close yet so far from where you really need her.

But she doesn’t tease for long, because when she finally reaches your core, she wastes no time, her tongue flicking out to taste you.

She starts with long, slow licks, gradually building the tension in you. Each stroke of her tongue makes you feel like you’re on Cloud 9 and about to have a stroke all at once. Your fingers tighten in her hair, hips arching toward Paige’s mouth, seeking more contact.

Paige understands—truthfully, she’s so familiar with your body at this point, that you can’t remember the last time she didn’t understand what you wanted—and she dips her tongue into your entrance. Her fingers trail from their grip on your hip to your clit, rubbing in firm, quickening circles. The dual sensation makes you cry out, your nails digging into the skin of your palm, your other hand tightening in Paige’s hair, pulling slightly. She lets out a satisfied hum against you at that, and the vibrations send a new wave of pleasure through you.

Paige knows exactly what you like, and she certainly uses that to her advantage. She curls her tongue inside you, seeking out that one spot that makes you see stars. The noises coming from your mouth begin to grow louder, your hips grinding against Paige’s face, still desperate for more.

“Fuck, Paige— God,” you moan, voice breaking. “I need… I need more.”

Surprisingly, Paige doesn’t make a comment about how needy you are, instead opting to do as you say. She pulls her tongue out, replacing it with two fingers, thrusting them deep inside your cunt. At the same time, she focuses her mouth back on your clit, sucking and licking so fervently you fear she might make you faint from her head game.

Paige can feel your legs trembling, the strain of standing becoming too much. Without breaking her rhythm, she throws one of your legs over her shoulder, giving herself more leverage, her tongue and fingers continuing their relentlessness. You can feel the pressure building within you, threatening to snap.

“God, you taste s’good,” Paige murmurs against your wet pussy. You catch the way your arousal is coating her chin and the sight of it—along with a deeper curl of her fingers—makes you moan loudly. “So sweet. ’Could do this all fuckin’ day, if you let me. ’Would make you come a million times over, baby.”

You cry out again, both at her words and the pace of her fingers curling and thrusting, the wetness of her mouth on you. Your body tenses, every muscle coiled tight as you hover on the brink of release. Paige senses how close you are and doubles down, adding a third finger and sucking hard on your clit.

That’s all it takes. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your entire body shuddering with the force of it. You moan out Paige’s name, your fingers gripping her hair so tightly that it has to hurt (though Paige doesn’t mind). She helps you ride out your high, her fingers and tongue working together to prolong your pleasure.

Finally, when your body goes limp and your breathing begins to slow, Paige pulls back, planting soft, soothing kisses along your inner thighs. She looks up at you, her lips glistening with your arousal, a satisfied grin on her face.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” Paige says, eyes trailing all along your body.

You can only nod, still too breathless to form a coherent response. Your heart swells as Paige stands, pulling you in for a kiss. Her tongue slips in your mouth, letting you taste yourself. You moan against her lips, your hands wrapping around her neck, pulling her closer. You stay like that for a moment—you savoring Paige, Paige savoring you—before finally breaking apart, both of you breathless and smiling.

“I love you,” Paige murmurs, planting a short peck on your lips. Then your nose. Then your forehead. “We should probably put your clothes back on, though, before someone does walk in on us.”

[sglossmin]

Muse | MYG

Plot: What happens when the man you practically simp over in high school, is right now, sitting across you after almost 10 years of not seeing him? Worse? You're here for an appointment for therapy and he's your psychologist.

Available on WATTPAD

Pairing: SeniorStudent!Yoongi x JuniorStudent!Reader ---> Psychologist! Yoongi x Artist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, slight age gap, slice of life, a bit of angst, schoolmates to lovers(?)

This is a work of fiction. Events, characters, and depictions are entirely imagined and do not represent the real-life actions or personalities of any real individuals, including the idols mentioned.

Warnings: talks about mental and death...erm lemme know if you found any disturbing heh

Word count: dunno

A/N: This is...actually some sort of based irl looll (only the high school scenes, most of it) This is my first one shot work! Let me know if I'm lacking something. The current series that I'm still working rn is still not even half finished T_T T_T So I thought I might give it a try---write a oneshot heh I just started here to write in tumblr so I still don't know that much stuff. Feel free to comment so I can improve!! Ik some of those thing weren't even a thing at that time...

"Shit..." I muttered right as I saw the man in a white coat, a clipboard in his arms while his hair softly falls down in his brows, reading his next patient's data. Just like the last time I saw him. Weird, huh? It's been years, yet... he still looks just the same.

Our eyes met, for the first time in a while. He frowned, it was so subtle and fast, no one would even know. But I did. Every little actions that he did, I always notice it. No matter what. I keep saying that the Y/n who just hit her puberty is no longer me, yet with my emotions right now, I can feel like my hormones are all over the place.

"Sit down," he smiled, gesturing the seat across him.

His voice so deep it sounds like soothing lullaby... Eyes so tired that I can tell he works so well... The warmth in his smile makes my heart skip a beat, forgetting why am I here in the first place...

Snap of it!

It took me a second to realize that I stared at him for too long. I cleared my throat, wishing my embarrassment would also go away. I smiled as I took the seat.

Our session ended without him saying that he at least recognize me. Did it made me upset? Yeah... sort of. I mean, I didn't go there and paid him to reminisce our high school days, but still...

I huffed as I crumpled a paper.

"Ugh! Really? Y/n? Still drawing him?"

I uncrumpled it and stared at the newly drawing for a while. I leaned back in my chair and sighed... "I'll give it to him. He looks hot in that coat." I chuckled and stuck the paper back in my notebook. "I'm keeping it because I drew him too good, not that I still like him or anything. That would be just so stupid."

Ha! Right! Nothing else. I smiled, pleased with how I gaslight myself.

I stretched my back and arms. My body ached for having a shrimp position for a long time.

And before I know it, I fell asleep (again) in my studio.

Summer 2010

Our last subject just finished and it's still raining heavily. I have no umbrella so my friends and I were forced to run. Reaching the covered court, I groaned. "Why call it summer when it rains this heavy??"

"Do they really think—us—high school students are waterproof?" Exclaimed by Sana while Chaeyoung just chuckled beside us. Our clothes were pretty wet but not that drenched.

We went upstage since there's some chair in there. Putting our bags down, we wait for the rain to stop. Us juniors only have to spend half day in the campus. Lucky, huh?

"Stay here, hm? You both can't leave me just because you guys have umbrella to share and your house are close." I glared at the both of them while they just snickered. They won't leave me otherwise, I know that.

It's been an hour, yet the rain don't seem to plan on stopping. It's about 1 now, we think. Seems like we're the only junior students in the campus. Suddenly, the seniors from the front building went outside. They went in the cover court. They were wearing some sort of costumes. It was ridiculous—Okay, not really. They seemed like they're going to dance.

We sat still from above across them and watch them prepare.

"Hey, Chae, wanna play?" I grinned as I whispered. Sana was too occupied with her phone that's why it was just the two of us who played.

We played Smash or Pass with every senior guy that I pointed. Until finally, I pointed it to the guy who's wearing a Thai hat(?) The gold ones, it seems like part of their costume.

"Hm... Smash!" Chaeyoung laughed and I did too. Cause miraculously, SAME.

We had a great laugh realizing we'd say smash.

We watched them dance and sing along with the music that were playing. Thinking about it, we might actually look like idiots. They can practically see us sing and dance with them since we're upstage.

After a while, I asked Chae, "What nickname should we give him?" It's our thing. Giving nicknames to people whether they look good or annoying. I think it's every friend groups should do.

"He looks like a cat and his eyes disappear too when he smiles... Kitty?"

"Kitty...?" Sounds weird so I proposed to change it. "What about Neko? Same meaning but doesn't sound weird." She agreed and since then, we called him Neko. With his sharp eyes and pale tone, he does looks like a kitty.

Few moments after, we planned a scheme. We went down to compare our height to his. We walked towards him as if we were just passing by and about to go to the canteen instead.

My and Chae's eyes went wide open. Gasping and staring at each other, the signal were sent.

Gosh, he's tall.

Oh gosh, he is.

A day or two passed since that. We randomly saw him when we went to buy in the canteen.

Then again.

And again.

And again.

Untill a few days have been passed and I keep on seeing him. To the point that... maybe... just maybe, it wasn't really a coincidence anymore.

New character unlocked?

When we were about to go back in our room, we met Hani. My bestfriend in elementary days.

"Y/n! Come here! Imma show you something. Actually—no—It's a someone." Hani dragged me and Chae went along with me.

Hani rant about how this guy looks so good, that in the first time in a while, they found someone who actually looks good in this campus.

Chae and I eyed each other. Were we thinking who we're thinking?

As we reached the third floor of the first year's building, across it was the senior's building. We stopped our track right in front of the exact room. The windows were open and from our spot, we can literally see him studying.

"Neko?"

"You know him?" Hani asked in which I nod.

I think we just found our sweet spot.

Chae and I sometimes went up there just to catch a glimpse of him. It was stupid and fun.

Until that day came.

As usual, Chae and I went to the third floor once again. We stayed in the balcony that faces their room. It was break time so everyone was all over the place. Then I felt it. Chae poked my side and pointed my front. I frowned and followed her finger. There was it, his teacher raising her brow at me. Then his classmates turned their heads toward me... 'till lastly, he did. Everyone was looking at ME. I noticed Chae was hiding on the wall divider of the balcony. I looked back at the teacher who's still looking at me.

"Do you need anything, Ms?" We were quite far but it was still audible.

"H-huh..?" That was all I could muster. It was even barely a whisper. My mouth was slightly open due to not knowing what to do nor say. It lasted like that for a few more seconds. Until I mustered all the courage and pride I have left in my body and shrugged it off and walked away. Frowning as if they got it wrong and I was simply hanging out there.

Walk

Walk

RUN

I went back to our room as soon as I noticed Chae was following me. When we get back, we were panting and sweating. Our classmates looked at us with weird looks. Not that I can blame them. One of our classmate asked us and we did tell the story.

It was our last time going in there.

I felt someone flick my head. I groaned in annoyance.

"Noona, wake up!"

I grumbled as I sit up straight, realizing I fell asleep in the studio again.

"You know you don't have to flick me. Between the two of us, I'm the light sleeper." I mumbled while my eyes were focusing on the big guy in front of me.

He rolled his eyes at me. Up to this day, I wondered who did he got it from. "Eomma wants you to eat lunch with us."

I chuckled. "Your mother did? Wow, what a pleasure." I sassed.

He groaned and plopped himself at the couch. "Can't believe you still resent her."

"Kook, what kind of a daughter am I if I don't?"

Jungkook threw a pillow to me as he stood up. "Still. Eat with us."

And just like that, he walked away.

Life goes on, that's what they say.

I must've been nuts for going to therapy yesterday. It's not like, I'm seriously depressed.

Right..?

Living alone in the house that came from the paycheck of my drawings must be really the best accomplishment I've had. Who would've thought the high achieving in academics girl would end up in this job. It was pure mystery.

I stared at my empty fridge. I smiled. The only thing that kept me sane nowadays is this...

"Looks like, I need to go... shopping."

I grinned ear to ear while I spent my fortune.

"Who needs therapy, when you can go and do your grocery."

I picked out the foods I knew I'd eat while I finish the new dramas. I was about to get the last stock of my fave gummies until someone practically snatched it. Fast.

"H-hey-" I cut off myself from shouting when I realized who it was.

It was him. In normal clothes. Am I dreaming? Impossible. He wouldn't have clothes in the first place if I am.

"Oh, Ms Jeon." He smiled.

Smiled?

He has the nerve to smile after taking that gummy?

But... then again, who need those gummy bears when his gummy smile is practically the sweetest.

He cleared his throat. "Seems like we'll be seeing each other more often."

Uh...what? Is he trying to say that I have a severe mental illness so we'll literally see each other more?? This fucker...

He probably noticed my frown as he chuckled and shook his head. "Uhm, that might've come off the wrong way. I meant, I just moved in in this neighborhood."

Sorry, what..?

I laughed my nervousness away. It's not like we'll be neighbors. This neighborhood is way too big for us to see each other.

Is that why it was my first time seeing him in this grocery store?

"Well, welcome to the neighborhood." I chuckled, probably awkwardly and excused myself.

Damn it. It could've been my chance for us to talk and stuff, but I refused. I mean, with my looks right now? No thanks.

I skipped my lunch and didn't go to our family's house. I plopped myself on my bed and took out my old sketchbook.

Staring at my old drawings of him, it sure did bring back of the memories.

2010

It's been a month yet we still don't know his name. We already did a lot of different shenanigans just to know it. He must be really like having a low profile. We found his classmate's account yet his are nowhere to be found. Maybe he doesn't go online...

I was staring at my computer, scrolling on whatever stuff pop up, then it hits me. Her sister. Hani's sister!

They're in the same year, so maybe, just maybe, she knows his name.

I quickly typed in to ask her. A girl from our year had a picture with him posted. I sent it to her.

"Hi eonni, can I ask u a question? Is there a chance that you know him?"

*Photo sent*

It took a while for her to respond.

"Uhm yeah, he's from our year"

"Can you tell me his name?"

"Min Yoongi"

"I think that's his name"

Min Yoongi... cute. It suits him.

Hours and hours later, I still couldn't find his account. Then as I was searching, there was this account, he was friends with Hani.

My eyes widen. "Min Suga? Could it be?"

I stalked the account and it was really him. No wonder I couldn't find his account—he wasn't using his real name! Likes to keep a low profile? Bullshit. He has more than 5k followers!

Moreover...he really...looks good.

I wonder if his face reflects his personality.

I added him as a friend and waited for the request to be accepted. I told Chae that if he didn't accepted it within 24 hours, I'll delete my request. I still have pride you know. Don't want to be one of those girls in his inbox.

It hasn't even been an hour and I got the notification. He accepted it! I squealed and danced in my room.

This is what being a youth, right?

I clicked my tongue as I chuckled bitterly. "Youth is never coming back."

As I turn the pages more, my bell ringed. Jungkook never ring first, he just comes in whenever he wants to. I should really change the passcode. As for my mom, she never really bother coming here.

Expecting no one, I opened the door, only to gape at the man in front of me.

"You...like pies?"

Min Yoongi, in front of me, holding a pie, not just holding, but giving..?

"Uh...how close is your house exactly?" I didn't mean to sound rude, but rather genuinely curious.

He hesitatingly pointed the house across me.

The Kim's house?

"It was my friend's grandparents who lived there. He took them to take care of them and then he sold this house to me." Yoongi explained. His face going like this :]

"So you really did mean that we'll see each other more often..." I mumbled in which he caught. He laughed and gave me the pie.

"My mom kept on nagging me on giving pies. She really worked hard on it. Hope you like it!"

She's here?

I nodded and thanked him. He went back and I did too. The smell of the freshly baked peach mango pie really did things to my stomach.

For the first time, Min Yoongi gave me something.

Spring 2011

"Let's go hoomeee. Forget it! I'm not going to give it to him!" I murmured while we wait in the senior's balcony. A few steps away from him, we waited. "I knew it I shouldn't have contact him." I mumbled. "He didn't even read my text..." I mumbled. Chaeyoung was practically dragging me. "Look, he seems busy too."

"Would you rather let your drawing and efforts be wasted then?" Chayoung argued.

Then for the meantime, we waited. We walked towards his classroom but he was nowhere. He was just right there few seconds earlier.

"Stupid text."

A week ago...*

Should I really text him? The classes have been cancelled. I'm not sure whether it's a good idea to do it now. Should I make myself known? Or should I keep it anonymous? But I really wanna take a picture with him...

Ugh! My head hurts. Forget it, I'm just gonna do it.

"Hi uhm... So I just randomly draw one of my mutuals and it happened to be you.."

*Photo sent*

"Perhaps you like it?

"I was about to give you this at school tomorrow but they cancelled the classes so... Hope you like it<3

Was I too formal?

It took him hours to reply.

"Oh wow, what a nice piece!"

"Yes I like it, thanks!"

HE REPLIED!!! I muffled my squeal with my pillow as I looked back at his text. It took me hours to see the message and reply too.

"Guess... I'll just give it to you when we bump into each other, maybe(?)"

"Ugh goshhh how am I going to give you this at schoolT^T"

"Just don't give it yet if you're still not ready^^"

End*

I went home feeling defeated. Not able to give him the drawing.

I stared at my bedroom's ceiling before deciding to go online.

2+messages

It was sent an hour ago. I quickly opened the message. He replied to my text earlier in the morning, when I told him to meet up.

"Sorry, I just saw your text message"

"I don't have an internet at school, that's why"

"It's fine, so,I'll just give it to you tomorrow?"

"Okay, sure"

Saying it was fine when I was literally sulking in my room like a child. But that's when I haven't read his message.

Min Yoongi apologized to me.

I giggled like an idiot in my room as I stared at the text messages we shared.

The next day...

"AAHHHH! Let's go hoomeee. Forget it! I'm not going to give it to him!" I whined, it wasn't just Chae and Sana was there for me, but some of my classmates too. They were waiting for me—like usual, we go home altogether. "I knew it I shouldn't have contact him. This is really a stupid stupid idea!!" I ran around the court in attempt to go home.

We're here, in front of the senior's building. Waiting...again.

One of my classmate proposed that they'll just call him to go down. Two of them went upstairs to his room.

Why does he always keeping me on waiting. Does he think he's some sort of a king?

I huffed and were literally losing all my shits. Till I heard them.

"He's here!!" They squealed. Too much of an opposite, I composed myself and cleared my throat. Thank God he's tall so when I'm looking forward all I can see is his chest. I gave it to him and our hands brushed. It was so quick and subtle, yet it already made my heart warm.

As practiced, Chaeyoung smoothly asked him if we can take a picture—for business purposes. I felt too stiff. This is too good to be true. Then I felt it, he leaned closer. Our arms touching, he smiled to the pic.

My heart was about to get off my rib cage. My insides were going crazy, yet, thankfully, I look completely normal outside.

When I got home, he texted me, thanking and saying that he really appreciates it. A warm feeling spread across my whole body.

The next day, my classmates and I talked about the event yesterday. They were bitching about how Yoongi didn't even thanked me and just left. I laughed so hard when I heard that. Because he did. Yoongi did thanked me before leaving, it just happened that it was loud enough for only me to hear it. Now, it felt more special.

"Have you ever thought of the probable major reason for what you're feeling?"

Here we go again.

How can I focus on what's wrong with me, when you're right here? Worse, as my doctor.

3 more appointments with him. I paid for this, I should at least gain something.

"Maybe... because up to this day, I still blame myself for his death." My head hung low as I mumbled it.

Why do you always have to see my flaw, Min Yoongi?

This infatuation is slowly turning to hatred...

"You know it wasn't your fault."

I turned my head to him with a frown. So, he does remember me?

A tear fell from my cheek. I wiped it before he can even notice. I turned my hands into fist. 6 words. It was only 6 words yet he can already open my bare self.

"I-if I wasn't stubborn. He'd still be here. He followed me. You saw that. If only he didn't. He'd still be here."

I felt a lump in my throat. Those memories. It was too vivid as if it just happened yesterday.

Spring 2012

"I told you, I don't want to!"

Another day, another argument to have with my mother.

Why is she so pushy on making me go to states?

"It's for your own sake! Studying here at this campus will let you go nowhere."

"What? So eager to get rid of me?!" I yelled while we drive to campus.

"Jeon Y/n! Don't you dare shout at your mother." My father said sternly as he drives.

As we were near the campus, I lost it.

"Drop me off." 1.. 2.. 3... "I said, drop me off, dad." Keeping my voice low yet so stern it could cut apples.

My father stopped the car and I get out of it.

I was mindlessly crossing the road that I didn't notice a four wheeler truck coming at me.

Then I felt a pair of hands pushed me hard, and before I knew it, screams were heard. My mom's loud cries were ringing in my ears. Tears were coming out of me uncontrollably. Blood all over him. I crawled, oh so slowly and trembling. Before I could even reach him, my mom pushed me aside and called for help.

Minutes later, I heard the sirens of the ambulance. I was just there. Staring at him. No words coming out.

It started raining. It was a light rain, yet even with those subtle touch, it made my whole body flinch and freeze.

Till I felt someone's embrace. Someone was covering me with their jacket. Who could possibly care for me if it wasn't my father.

Slowly, I turned my head towards the person.

Why it has to be you?

"Everything's gonna be okay. The ambulance is taking your father already."

He spoke in a soothing tone. Yet no matter how warm or soft his voice is, I can't somehow get out the ice cage I'm in.

"Do you think your father would want you to think that way? It's been years Y/n, what happened that you're back at this again?"

part 2 read here^^

A/N: okay, I lied. Maybe this isn't gonna be a oneshot... maybe I'll have 2 parts? 3 maybe? I just cut this off here cause I think it was too long. So readers can have breaks hehe. Gonna post the next part tomorrow maybe...

Comment your @ if u guys wants to be added on the taglist^^

[gothicfied]

ugh wait i had a thought: imagine coloring in nam gyu's tattoos!!

Ink Lines - Nam-gyu Oneshot

Pairing: Nam-gyu / Player 124 x Reader, No Squid Game AU

Word Count: ~900 Words

Warnings: Mentions of drug usage, scars, Nam-gyu smokes, slight swearing, Nam-gyu and Reader are in a relationship, other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (English isn't my first language)

A/N: Again, this request is literally several months old and I'm so sorry that I only came around now to write for it, Anon! This request is actually so cool, I can't believe I didn't write for it sooner. Anyway, better late than never so: Enjoy!

The evening was warm with only the summer wind cooling you off on this day in the middle of August. Nam-gyu traded his usual night shift at The Pentagon just to spend a little more time with you — Time that the both of you usually didn't have for each other because of your jobs.

He was sitting in the same squeaky garden chair right next to you and held your hand, resting his arm on the cold metal arm rest. You've ran out of things to say to each other at least an hour ago and were now just enjoying the calm and peaceful silence. You felt Nam-gyu's thumb trace across the back if your hand absentmindedly as he was busy tipping away on his phone in his lap.

This is how it could always be. Tranquil, nice, with no worries in the world. You were watching the sunset and occasionally listened in on the conversation your neighbors had on the balcony right next to yours.

At some point you got bored at doing nothing, but you were also a little to tired to come up with anything else for you two to do. Your eyes started to wander over your boyfriends figure, his little smile as he watched some stupid videos on his phone, and his arms. Old scars and traces of drug usage were still apparent on them, and everytime you saw them you were grateful you got him to stop. For you, it wasn't ideal that Nam-gyu continued to work in that god awful nightclub, but the money was needed.

Your gaze lingered on the tattoos that also decorated his skin. Some of them you could just shake your head to, but that's just who your boyfriend was: Impulsive, careless, free. Everything he put on his skin was a direct reflection of his character and you liked that he stayed true to himself.

After a few seconds, you got an idea to cure your boredom: "Can I do something?"

At the sudden sound of your voice, Nam-gyu slightly flinched, then looked at you with a small grin. "Whatever you want, babe." Carefully, you removed your hand from his after squeezing it for the last time and got up from your chair. Nam-gyu just watched you struggle to open the balcony door and how you quickly retreated back inside your shared apartment.

A few minutes later, which he had spent looking for his already opened pack of cigarettes, you came back with a rather interesting item. "What's that?" Nam-gyu asked you with a confused look on his face, finally finding what he searched for in his other pocket.

You just smiled at him, so sickly sweet he swore he could die from it. In your hand were a couple of markers you had bought just a week ago for some art project you wanted to start.

"Wait, you'll see." You pulled your own chair closer to his and sat back down again, grabbing his left arm. Most of Nam-gyu's tattoos were already done with colored ink, only the small moth on his left arm right above his wrist and a few others were left black and white.

You, again, inspected the tattoo and decided you wanted to use the red first. Nam-gyu raised an eyebrow: "The fuck is this gonna be? You gonna color it in?" He shot you a smile as soon as you nodded. "Make sure it turns out pretty, though."

The felt tip of the marker started tracing along the inner corners of the moth's wings as you carefully drew on his skin. Nam-gyu just stuck a cigarette between his lips and gave you the lighter, obviously wanting you to help him.

You resumed your coloring while your boyfriend was just — in your humble opinion — ruining his lungs. But that was one of the things he couldn't give up, like he always told you.

"What color do you want for it's body?"

"Blue."

He took another drag from his cigarette, switchinh back and forth from watching the sunset and you coloring his tattoo in. Nam-gyu must admit, it was one of the most adorable things ever.

The marker slightly tickled his skin as you dragged it delicatly across his arm. "Hey stop moving so much, you're gonna fuck up my drawing." Nam-gyu laughed at the annoyance in your voice and just said "Okay, okay, okay.." occasionally moving his arm on purpose just to see you get worked up over it and kiss you to make you calm down.

After a couple of minutes you moved up to the next tattoo on his upper arm. The man mustered your work and pressed a kiss on your forehead for the job well done.

"You like it?"

"It's perfect, my love."

"Well, obviously."

"You should do this more often."

You looked up to your boyfriend, your heart fluttering thr moment your eyes met his. The both of you have been in a relationship for the past two years, yet he still gives you butterflies in your stomach — It's actually your favorite thing about your relationship.

"Whatever you want, babe."

[giuliannna]

LOST & FOUND

before you started dating hamzah, old memories resurfaced, making you realize they might still mean something.

firstboyfriend ! hamzah masterlist

the basement smells like dust and old laundry detergent. all you see is cardboard boxes and forgotten memories shoved into corners. it’s not exactly where you pictured spending the first real day of summer - your last summer home, the one dangling between high school and college - but your mom had other plans for you.

“just go through the boxes,” she said, waving you off with a knowing look. “some of that stuff’s yours and you’re not leaving it all here.”

so of course you dragged hamzah down with you.

he’s sitting cross-legged on an old blanket now. there’s a frayed bandaid on his knee and grass stains on his shorts from being outside before this. his curls are messy from biking over, his shirt slightly damp from how fast he pedaled.

“your basement is scary,” he says, tapping the side of an unlabeled box with his fingertips. “it smells weird.”

“it smells like your room.”

he gives you a flat look. “i cleaned my room.”

you laugh. “since when?”

“since you told me to,” he mutters under his breath, sheepish.

everything feels so easy with him. the kind of easy that makes time feel like it doesn’t really exist.

you open up a box. inside is a jumble of old notebooks, little trinkets made from polymer clay, a crooked photo of you and hamzah at someone’s birthday party - his toothy grin front and center, your eyes half-closed mid-laugh.

he looks over your shoulder at it now. you feel the heat from his body cascading down your back as he stands behind you.

you keep digging. there are pokémon cards, friendship bracelets, art supplies, and a beaded ring you thought you’d never see again. you hold it up. “oh my god, remember this?”

hamzah half-gasps, half-laughs. “you made that for me and i thought i lost it and you were mad at me for, like, two whole days.”

“i thought you betrayed me,” you say, glancing back at him with a grin.

“i cried over that, y’know.”

you did too - but you don’t say it out loud. instead, you pick up the box and place it on the floor, both of you sitting down to keep rummaging through it.

then hamzah makes a noise. a tiny oh? of curiosity. he’s holding something - a folded piece of paper, slightly yellowed, the edges worn.

“what’s that?” you ask.

hamzah squints. “m’not sure.”

he unfolds it gently, revealing large, lopsided handwriting in blue marker. at the top, underlined and bolded it reads, “CONTRACT.”

you freeze, your eyes going wide. “oh, no. no way.”

hamzah’s already smirking, his eyes scanning the page. “oh my god. we were actually insane.”

“read it,” you say, scooting closer until your knees bump his.

he clears his throat. “this says - if we are not married by age thirty we have to live together forever anyway because we’re best friends and we would be really good roommates and maybe we can get a cat too.”

you burst out laughing. “we wrote that?”

hamzah holds up a finger. “wait. there’s more.”

he flips the paper around, and there, at the bottom, is a scribbled drawing. stick figures - one with brown curls, one with what looks like pigtails or braids - standing under a crooked arch made of what might be balloons or clouds. they’re holding hands. there’s a tiny heart above them.

“i think that’s pretty good,” hamzah says proudly, eyes scanning his own art.

you smile, stifling a laugh. “you drew us getting married.”

“and?” he says, raising a brow. “it’s a legally binding contract.”

you look at the drawing again. and then - maybe it’s the dust or the heat or the fact that you’re leaving soon, that everything’s about to change - but something in your chest does a weird little flip.

“do you think we actually believed we’d do it?” you ask softly.

hamzah’s quiet for a second. then he says, “i think i wanted to.”

you don’t say anything else. neither does he. because if you do, it might become too obvious that you’re both thinking the same thing.

you kind of still want to.

you stare at the paper a second longer, thumb brushing over the crease down the middle, right through the hand-drawn heart. it’s so silly. ridiculous, even. the kind of thing two kids write in secret when the world still feels small enough to promise forever in.

but now that you’re older, legally an adult, “forever” doesn’t feel silly anymore. it feels like something real, something you don’t want to mess up.

you clear your throat, forcing a laugh. “well, then i guess we’d better start house hunting in, like, over a decade.”

“you think i’m gonna make it that long on my own? who’s going to tell me to clean my room?”

you roll your eyes. “i’m not your wife yet.”

yet.

he smiles at that. a real, slow, warm one. “not yet,” he echoes, voice teasing. but then he goes quiet, like he’s said too much or maybe exactly enough.

it’s always like this lately. these moments that feel like they’re almost something. like if one of you just reached just a little further, you’d tip right over the edge into something new.

hamzah gently places the contract in your lap like it’s fragile. then he shifts back to sit against a box, arms stretched behind his head, and looks up at the ceiling like he’s trying not to look at you.

you glance at him. he looks relaxed, but you can see the little things - the way his foot bounces, the slight twitch in his fingers. it’s all very subtle. anxious.

“do you think we’ll still talk every day?” you blurt out. “when we’re at different schools?”

hamzah doesn’t hesitate. “obviously.”

“you say that now, but..”

he turns to look at you, brows furrowed like you’ve insulted him, deep in his core. “stop. don’t even think like that.”

you nod, averting your gaze to your lap. “okay. yeah, you’re right.” you both go quiet again. the air is charged with dug-up memories. your knee is still brushing his, just barely. neither of you move away.

“i think,” hamzah says suddenly, voice quieter, “even if we hadn’t written that.. i still would’ve picked you.”

your chest tightens. your eyes flicker upwards to meet his, and your heart stutters in your chest.

“to live with,” he adds quickly. “i mean. as roommates. because you’d probably never leave dishes in the sink. and you don’t snore.”

you laugh, a little breathless. “you do.”

“i don’t.”

“you do.”

and then you’re laughing again, full and warm, and it feels like the kind of laugh you might look back on years from now, just like how you’re looking back today. the kind you’ll remember when you’re sitting in a dorm room alone and missing him so much it aches.

you fall back on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. “i feel like this summer’s gonna go by fast, isn’t it?”

hamzah stretches out beside you, arms tucked behind his head, so close you can feel the buzz of warmth of his skin against yours.

“yeah,” he says. “i think so.”

neither of you say it out loud, but the same thought hangs between you two anyway: we can’t waste it.

a/n: yay hii new au!!!

xoxo giulia

taglist: @gulicore @slushedup @arroganceisherfavoritecolor @layzerzlovesu46 @babysitter19 @marixoa @starjely @viennawaiits @h-yalexaaaa @freakzah444 @anginluv @gabwilliams @sturniyolo @screamertannie @brlwla @yourstrulykiya @hamzaholic @isathefantastic @divinesturn @forestlv4r @mayapuma20 @ottakugirl @hamzahsbestone @pulcen @rustnroll @venus-planetof-love @hamzahsn1gf @rock678 @wandas-lovey @guiltyfemcel @axetheboyboss @harrys0nlyange1 @ttlynotme @yassqueen1303 @animalcrossingshameless @opiumfidgetspinner @pictureperfectblue @slushingmynoob @vampzah @ilovezah