#i might post pics tomorrow when i can figure out a way to do it without me or my messy room in it lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

therealcocoshady · 2 months

Note

Coco!! Just wanted to say THANK YOU for indulging another one of my requests and so QUICKLY too. I know you’re busy, busy and I really appreciate it! This was everything I ASKED for and more! Love me some sweet and sexy Marsh 🤍💪🏼🧘🏻‍♀️💦💋🌶️🥵🧸

Hope you enjoy a ☕️ or 2 on me! 😉

A/N : Hi bestie 🌟. Thank YOU for supporting me and being my first ever commission ❤��.

For those of you who didn’t know, you can support my writing by giving tips on my Ko-Fi account and I am now open for commissions as well 😏.

@shady-577 kindly allowed me to post the commission on this blog, too, to I hope y’all enjoy 🌟

Sweat Session

Marshall was a very healthy person and it showed. On your very first date, he’d told you about him trying to lead a healthy lifestyle by maintaining his sobriety, eating well and exercising and, two years into your relationship, he was more than consistent. You had recently moved in together and you got to see just how seriously he took it. And as he was getting ready to drop a new album, perform regularly again and do some promo, he started exercising even more. Not only it kept him fit, but it also helped him deal with his stress. He got up even earlier in the morning to hit the gym and, even though you enjoy the fruits of his labor (what with him being even more buff than before), you were a little grumpy not to have your man in bed with you when you woke up. And since he spent even more time at work, polishing the album and working on the promo, you didn’t see him as much as you liked, which made you a little frustrated.

- You know, you could hit the gym with me, he suggested with a smile when you told him about your annoyance. Might do some good.

- Is this a sneaky way of telling me I’ve gained weight ? You asked as you side-eyed him.

- What ? No ! He immediately said. I’m just saying it’s healthy to exercise. You could wake up a little earlier and join me in the gym.

- Or you could skip a day and stay in bed with me tomorrow morning, you suggested with a charming grin.

- Not happening, doll, he said with a smile. Need to be consistent.

- Fine, you groaned.

With the public appearances and photo shoots he had planned, as well as music videos to shoot, he wanted to look buff. At 51 years old, he didn’t want to be seen as some « aging rapper who let himself go ». And sure enough, the results were there. His chest was chesting and he had Twitter go feral over the outline of his pecs, clearly visible on the latest pics of him at Dre’s Walk of Fame ceremony.

The next day, you woke up to the sound of his alarm going off and let out a groan. He whispered an apology and kissed your forehead before going to the home gym in the basement. You tried to fall back to sleep but without your man by your side, the bed felt cold and empty. That’s when you decided enough was enough. You got up and put on a cute working out outfit, which looked more like underwear than clothes you could actually work out in, consisting of a bra and the tiniest shorts ever. Just enough fabric to highlight your figure and make your ass and breast pop out. When you got downstairs, you saw him working out on an incline bench, absorbed on what he was doing. He was wearing simple sweatpants and sneakers, not even bothering with a teeshirt. The view reminded you of how lucky you were. You looked at him from afar for a good while, him so focused that he didn’t even notice you standing there, practically drooling.

- Hi handsome, you said seductively. Mind if I join you ?

- You decided to get up after- he began. Jesus Christ…

- Yes ? You said innocently.

- You’re gonna work out in these ? He asked with a raised eyebrow.

- You don’t like it ? You asked.

- I don’t think that’s enough fabric for me to critique, he hummed.

- Far be it from me to distract you, you said with a smile. Unless…

- I have to work out, babe, he said with a frown. But you’re welcome to join.

You shrugged. You’d been dating for a while but, clearly, he should know better than to assume you didn’t have more tricks up your sleeve. You kicked off your sneakers and grabbed a yoga mat, strategically placing it so that he’d have a good view. You started stretching, going from pose to pose. He kept on working out next to you, though you could see his gaze.

- Like what you see ? You hummed.

- Making sure you’re doing it right, he said with a grin.

- Sure, you giggled.

He got up while you were in downward facing dog and put a hand on your hip, helping you stretch your back a little.

- You know, these tiny shorts don’t hide much, he whispered in your ear. Especially not in this pose.

- Oh yeah ? You asked as you switched to a three-legged down dog that gave him an even better view.

- Fuck, he muttered under his breath.

You kept your flow going under his watchful eye, looking at you as if you were a snack.

- I think my flexibility is not too bad, you remarked.

- It’s really good, he mumbled. Really good.

- Thank you for correcting my posture, my love, you said innocently. Let me repay the favor and spot you.

He hummed and laid back on the inclined bench, grabbing some halters, working on his arms. You gently ran your hand on his biceps, feeling how much bigger they had gotten in the past weeks.

- So muscular, you said seductively. You are so strong…

- Am I ? He mused.

- And that chest, you continued. It’s all for the « Stan » shirt lift for your upcoming tour, isn’t it ?

He looked at you with a grin, knowing this particular move drove you absolutely crazy. You watched him exercise. He clearly didn’t need you to spot him, and you knew it, but this allowed you to stare. He sat back up and grabbed his water bottle, taking a big gulp. You were staring at each other with « fuck me eyes » and you could tell he was trying hard not to give in to the temptation.

- You’re awfully distracting, woman, he said.

- Maybe you need to take a little break, you suggested. I think it’s time you were shown some appreciation for all this hard work…

He smiled and playfully shook his head before taking another gulp of water. Some of it missed his mouth and trailed down his neck and chest. You stepped closer and ran your tongue on his neck, catching the iced liquid. He let out a groan, letting you know how pleasurable it was.

- Let’s not be wasteful with water, now, you said seductively. Oh, I think I missed some…

You proceeded to kiss his chest, catching the water with your mouth. You took advantage of the moment and placed a kiss on one of his pecs. He chuckled and pulled you to him so that you’d sit in his lap before kissing you passionately.

- You’re impossible, he hummed between kissed. I can’t focus.

- And you’re a fucking tease, you retorted as you kissed him back. I’m only human, you know ?

- I’ll give you teasing, he grinned.

With one movement of his knee, he had you spread your legs for him, before running his fingers on the inside of your thigh. You hummed in pleasure as his hand got dangerously close to your pussy, eventually cupping it over the thin fabric of your shorts, making you sigh in pleasure.

- Is this what you wanted ? He asked playfully.

- Yes, you whined.

There was nothing more you loved than to sit in his lap, his arms around you, free to run his hands across your body. He knew it and he happily obliged, keeping on teasing you over your clothes, cupping your breasts and grazing your nipples with his fingers. He freed one of your boobs from your sports bra and pinched the nipple, making you moan in pleasure. You automatically started grinding against his thigh, your body desperate for some release.

- Look at this, he chuckled. You don’t need me to take care of you. Looks like you’re doing it on your own.

- Please, you asked breathily. Marshall.

- Patience, love, he whispered in your ear before letting his hand go back to your pussy.

He played with you over the fabric, no doubt feeling how wet you were. His head was buried in your neck and you could feel his smile against your skin. You kept on moaning, desperate for more. Eventually, you took matters in your own hands and knelt between his legs. You decided to put him through the same misery and stroked his high through his sweatpants, going higher and higher with each motion. Even through the fabric, you could see his growing bulge. You looked up to him and saw that he was looking in the mirror across the room, admiring the view of you, kneeling for him.

- You’re so beautiful in this position,he said as he ran a hand through your hair.

- Keep enjoying the view, then, you suggested with a smirk.

You tugged at his sweats and he lifted his hips to allow you to lower them, eventually kicking his sneakers so that you’d remove the whole thing, along with his boxers. There was something about him, naked on the bench, his massive erection showing you how excited he was. You stroked his cock and gave it a few pumps before approaching your face.

- I could leave you like this, you mused. Like you’ve left me alone in our bed…

- Babe, no, he pleaded. Please.

You thoroughly enjoyed reversing the power dynamic. By the look he was giving you, you could tell that he was wrapped around your finger, eating in the palm of your hand. You gave him a mischievous grin and started licking the tip of his cock, earning sighs of pleasure in the process. You kept on stroking the length while kitten licking the head, knowing it drove him crazy, that he wanted nothing more than for you to take all of him in your mouth. Eventually, you did and he moaned loudly, still holding on to your hair. You kept on sucking him, hollowing your cheeks to pleasure him even more. You took as much as you could, making you drool all over his cock. You stared at him from below and saw he was bemused by the reflection of you sucking him in the mirror. You could feel him twitch inside of your mouth, a sign that he was about to come.

- Stop, he warned.

- You can come, you said as you kept on stroking him.

- Don’t want to, he said. Not yet.

He helped you get up and kissed you hungrily before undressing you. He sat back and pulled you so that you’d straddle his lap, giving him an opportunity to suck on your tits while grabbing a handful of your ass. He lined himself at your entrance and inserted himself, making you whimper. There it was. What you’d been craving. The sole sensation of him inside you was heavenly. His mouth traveled between your nipple and your neck, proving that he knew your sweet spots all too well.

- is this what you wanted ? He asked breathily.

- Yes, you whispered.

He started thrusting his hips slowly, making sure to bottom into you and hit your sweet spot. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him sloppily, dying to be close to him as ever. The making out was hotter than ever and you always wanted more, desperate for some release, knowing this man could make you come like no one else before him.

- Faster, you begged. Harder. Please.

He gave you a smirk and carried you to another bench that was slightly higher. He had you on your knees, ass up and face down and penetrated you roughly, making you scream before thrusting violently. He was going so fast that you had trouble catching your breath. But at the same time, it was so good, so hot to have him use you. His thrusts became slower again and he put your hair in a makeshift ponytail, forcing you to look in a mirror in front of you. You could see your faces twisting in pleasure. His gaze met yours and he gave you a smirk before quickening his pace. He closed his eyes and all hell broke loose. His hips moved faster than ever, hitting you deep. There was no doubt that you’d be sore for the following days but, in the instant, neither of you cared, lost in the pleasure. You moved your hips in sync, trying to keep up with him. You didn’t want it to end and, yet, you could feel you were both so close to climax. The coup de grâce came when he looped a hand around you to reach and rub your swollen clit, making you cry in ecstasy. You could feel your juices flowing, forming a puddle underneath you, in which you inevitably collapsed, Marshall on top of you.

The both of you stayed still and silent for a minute, taking the time to catch your breath. Marshall buried his head in the crook of your neck, placing a chaste kiss there that made you shiver.

- Are you alright, love ? He asked as he got up.

- Y-yes, you replied as you were still struggling to breathe properly.

He chuckled and got up with a grunt, grabbing a towel to clean you and a water bottle to help you hydrate. You let him clean you and sat up on the bench, taking a good look at his naked form. In spite of rocking a buzz cut, he still looked disheveled and insanely sexy.

- You’re so hot, you said lovingly.

- Is that why you jumped on me ? He asked with a smirk.

- Maybe, you giggled. Been missing you, lately.

He gave you a smile and wrapped you in his strong arms before kissing you.

- Missed you too, he said. But you do realize you’re the main reason I’m doing all of this for, don’t you ?

- Am I ? You mused.

- Of course, he hummed. When I’m making music, I think of how much I want you to be proud. And when I’m here… my main motivation is you. I want to look good for you. You’re always on my mind.

You cooed and kissed him tenderly. He was too adorable.

- Well, I am proud of you. And I do think you look incredible me you complimented. I’m proud to be yours.

- I love you, he said. How about a shower before you need to go to work ?

- Ok, you said with a pout.

You got up and he grabbed you by the waist before leading you out of the home gym.

- I like fucking you in here, he hummed. I can’t believe we waited so long for this, though.

- We’ll have to do it again, you said with a smile. I can think of a few creative ways to use that gym equipment.

- Oh believe me, next time I’m putting those resistance bands to good use, he chuckled. I guess it completes the tour of the house. We’ve officially done it in every room of the house.

- Does that make me a permanent resident ? You grinned.

- It does, he chortled.

- Oh no, there’s one room missing, though, you said.

He looked at you with a frown, knowing exactly where you were going with this. He sternly shook his head as he led you to the stairs.

- Nope, he said. Don’t even thing about it. We’re not doing it in the hope studio. I have rules.

- We’ll see, you grinned.

- I’m not going to cave in, he warned.

- You know I like a challenge, you said innocently. Besides… you love me. You wouldn’t be able to refuse.

He chuckled, failing to keep the annoyed look on his face. You knew he loved you being all needy, and that there was only so much charm offensive he could resist.

- We’ll see, he hummed before bringing your hand to his lips and then placing a loving kiss on your ring finger.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine #Eminem smut #Eminem commission

186 notes · View notes

pdpenpals · 2 months

Note

hihi! i was wondering if i could get a romantic letter from phoenix drop high gene? she/they pronouns please :)

and for the context of the letter, maybe Gene & Reader recently started dating but can’t text because Reader is away at an academic sleep away camp (preferably centered around literature/writing)? Reader is on the more academic/nerdy side and not officially part of the SK so them doing these kinds of programs is their usual summer thing but it’s the first time Gene and Reader have been away from eachother since they started dating

tysm <33

hihi!! thanks for sending this in, i think this prompt’s absolutely adorable!

unrelated but speaking of literature whenever i see gene now that i’m older i think of heathcliff (more of the name) or the phantom for some reason.

your entire being perks up at the mention that a letter’s arrived, and your heart races as you go through who could have possibly sent it in your head. the moment you have it in your hands, you can almost tell exactly who it’s from. the envelope’s a dark gray, close enough to be black. there are stickers all over its back next to your name and address, same goes for the front. opening it, you catch a whiff of someone familiar’s cologne. that cheeky bastard.

you notice almost immediately that there’s not only a letter inside, but a bunch of printed photos and some unused stickers. after finding a spot to settle your new goodies upon, you get comfy and get to reading.

Hey cutie. Miss me yet?

Heard a fair’s coming to town soon. I think it’ll still be there when you get back. There should even be fireworks on the last day. We can go there if you wanna.

Other than that, nothing much happened today. Dante was out, and I had the house to myself for a good portion of the afternoon. Without sugarcoating it, I was bored out of my mind.

It took me a while to figure out my texts or calls weren’t getting through to you. Mom must have seen how frustrated I was about it, so she shared some of her spare stationery with me as a last resort. She said something about wanting to hear about how your summer’s been doing so far.

That’s all the small talk I can handle for today. You might get too tired of staring at only words for too long over there, so you might want to check out the pics taken these past few days. The stickers are from Zenix and Sasha by the way, they also say hi.

Kidding aside, I know how much this whole camp thing means to you. But I’ve been feeling weird ever since you left. It’s weirder knowing you’re not nearby. When you’re not a walk or a call away. Even though I know exactly how many days and many hours are left until you come back.

Sappy shit out the way, I decided to read that one book you lent me at random. I’m not sure you remember it much since you hurriedly gave it to me without a second thought, but it’s that really old one about the day before the world ends. All that apocalyptic and sad shit. Even though I didn’t get it, I guess it was nice that Vincent and Leticia got their happy ending. To be honest, the book overall didn’t stand out to me much, but the concept of having one day left to live sure did.

If I knew the world was going to end tomorrow I would

Y’know, maybe it’s for the best I save it for when we meet again in person, so you better come back home in one piece, yeah?

With an aching heart and hand, Your Gene, who misses you terribly

PS. I feel like you’ve been rubbing off on me recently, state-of-mind-wise. While it’s not that bad, it gives me the chills.

PPS. If not having you near me hasn't driven me insane yet, I definitely will go mad if this letter doesn't make it to you. Especially after all I've put my wrist through just for this. Maybe I should visit the post office a few more times?

#💌 — from the mailroom!#aphmau #aphblr #mystreet #mystreet x reader #phoenix drop high #phoenix drop high x reader #pdh x reader #mystreet gene #pdh gene #mystreet gene x reader #phoenix drop high gene x reader #no beta we die like mcd aaron

64 notes · View notes

sweetkpopmusings · 2 months

Text

long for you (interlude) | h. hyunjin <3

a/n: here's the interlude! only one more part of the fic left after this </3 this one is angsty, but i hope you enjoy it nevertheless >.< currently at work so i might make edits to it later lol if you want to be added to the tag list, you can reply to this post or send me an ask! pics not mine <3

♡ find all parts here ♡

content: fluff, romance, fake dating, angst, a happy ending | wc: 3.7k | warnings: mentions of food/eating, lots of crying | pairing: nonbinary!painter!hyunjin x gn!writer!reader | requests: open

synopsis: y/n is a writer with a long-awaited, well-deserved career opportunity. despite the excitement, there’s one major problem: the publisher expects a modern love story, equally romcom-like and authentic, but y/n lacks the inspiration to write something worth reading. through a chance meeting with mutual friends, y/n and hyunjin bond over upcoming deadlines and creative blocks. before the conversation ends, they discover that the ridiculous plot of fake dating might just work to solve their inspirational dry spell.

interlude: love untold

“y/n!”

a familiar voice calls your name. you look around the crowd, searching for anyone you recognize, not quite sure what you’re trying to find. when you see his face, you understand why the way he called your name sounded so much like home.

chan hurries over the second you wave to him, and you instinctively smile at his lopsided curls bouncing with each step he takes. you melt into his bear hug, warmed by the contact and the closeness of his bright smile. it’s only once you realize that he has run into you here that you feel a tiny wave of shock roll over you.

“wait, chan,” you tilt your head, “how are you…why are you here?”

he laughs, “i’m just as surprised to see you, y/n. i’m here interviewing for a new job.”

“oh wow! that’s great! how did it go?”

“i have the interview tomorrow, actually. i figured i’d get in a day early to feel out the area and make sure i like it.”

“and? what’s your review so far?”

chan’s excited grin is replaced by a soft smile, “seeing you makes it perfect.”

with a simple sentence, chan has you blushing the way you did as a teenager. it didn’t take much to fall into the old rhythm with him: easy conversation, light touches, inside jokes suddenly at the front of your mind despite not having been uttered in years. you two could have lost yourselves in each other’s presence anywhere, but chan suggests you migrate into a coffee shop to continue the conversation. as your agenda for the rest of the day is empty, you lead chan to a nearby coffee shop, relaxing into your seat with your favorite drink and the comfort of an old companion.

“so, tell me everything that’s been going on with you!”

you laugh, “chan. we haven’t seen each other in what, two, three years now? i hardly think telling you everything is possible.”

“i thought you said you had the rest of the night free?”

you roll your eyes, and chan giggles at his own joke. quietly, you prioritize what information to share, careful not to spiral and think about how much has changed since your last conversation with chan.

“i guess i can start with the fact that i got a book deal.”

chan just about drops his drink, “no way, y/n! that’s amazing! wow! i knew you’d do it one day. i know it has been your dream for ages. i’m so proud of you!”

“thank you, chan,” you pause to ensure he knows the depth of your gratitude, “it is a ghostwriting contract, so my name won’t be on it, but it feels surreal that someone’s paying me to write a book.”

“do you know when it’ll come out? i need to be first in line to buy it.”

“i honestly have no idea, but i’m turning in the manuscript tomorrow. the first draft of it, anyway.”

“wooooow,” chan leans back in his chair, “i’m so impressed. you’re like a big-time author now.”

“okay, don’t get ahead of yourself,” you scoff, still complimented by his pride in you, “but what about you? what brings you here for a new job?”

“eh, nothing as exciting as your news. i just want something new. i haven’t been feeling inspired with the work i do now, and i need a change of scenery. i moved back home after we…you know. it was great to go back to my roots. it’s time for me to move forward, turn a new page, start a life where no one knows me. at least that was the plan until i ran into you.”

you both laugh, and you reply, “if your interview tomorrow goes well, i can act like i don’t know you, so things can go according to plan.”

chan laughs boyishly, the way you always remembered it, “i appreciate your support, but i’d hate nothing more than for you to forget about me.”

you nod. you’d often caught yourself wondering whether chan still thought about you, whether he remembered any details of you and your life together. the space between you two was never supposed to grow this vast, but you figure that’s just how these things go sometimes. you feel a pang in your chest, sitting across from him, aware of how much he still means to you, despite it all.

“not to draw attention to the elephant in the room,” chan starts, feigning confidence over the redness in his ears, “are you seeing anyone?”

“please,” you laugh dryly, “you know i’m not.”

chan hums, observing you for a few extra seconds, “something’s going on in your love life.”

“chan!” you gape at him with disbelief, “based on what evidence?”

he leans closer to you, elbows on the table and eyes focused, “come on. i know you better than most people, especially when it comes to this stuff. who is it?”

you frown, hoping you can get him to believe that nothing is happening. predictably, even after years of separation, chan waits patiently. silent, stubborn, supportive.

“fine,” you sigh, spinning your cup a few times to delay your admission, “i was involved–well, not really involved, per se. there was…someone. we had something. at least, i thought we did, and i thought they thought so too. then, they ended things without warning. i can’t say they were in the wrong because being able to end things was a part of our…agreement…but it still hurt. i felt–feel–blindsided and delusional and stupid for getting my hopes up. i don’t think there’s anything to do now except move on, which sucks because it felt special. but hey,” you laugh sordidly, “i’ve been wrong about that before.”

chan smiles, some sadness peeking through, “we both have been wrong about that before.”

you nod, coming up empty on what to say next. chan watches you to ensure you’ve shared everything you wanted to before he speaks again.

“i’m sorry, y/n. i don’t know what they were thinking, and i won’t ask you to dredge up every detail, but i don’t need to know the whole situation to know that they made a mistake. you are so special. loving and being loved by you is the greatest gift i’ve ever known. you deserve someone who recognizes that, and i’m sorry that they weren’t smart enough to.”

you clear your throat, overwhelmed by chan’s words, “thanks, chan.”

“of course,” he smiles, “i’m what you could call an expert on this subject.”

you both laugh again, and chan continues, “all i wanted to do was give you the best. i still want to. i always thought if we saw each other again…” chan pauses to ensure he’s caught your gaze, “i would love to be the person that gives you what you deserve, if you’d let me.”

oh.

“chan…”

“you don’t have to answer right now. besides, i wouldn’t ask for your time if we still lived as far apart as we do now. i just mean that, one way or another, i’d love to be back in your life. i still love you, and i always will, regardless of what that love looks like.”

a smile spreads across your face. chan, as you always remembered, never fails to surround you with warmth. you tell him so as you both say your goodbyes. you promise to call, much to chan’s excitement. he promises to tell you how the interview goes, and you can’t help but hope that he gets the job in the city, this city, your city.

later, while you muscle through the final edits of your first manuscript, jisung stops by to confirm that you’re eating and drinking enough. against your best efforts, you mention chan right away.

“chan’s here?” jisung’s eyes are wide, though you can’t tell with which emotion.

you nod, “yeah, he’s interviewing for a job tomorrow.”

“oh wow, good for him!” jisung pauses his celebration for chan to ask the inevitable, “how did it feel to see him after…everything?”

you sigh, wondering how far down memory lane you were willing to travel, “it felt…good. we were comfortable right away, and, though it was clear time had passed, we were as connected as we had always been. he actually…i think, if he moves here, he wants to give us another shot.”

“whoa,” jisung looks arguably more shocked than you were when chan made his abrupt confession.

“yeah. i was surprised too. but i don’t know…i felt surprised in a good way, i think. obviously the whole hyunjin situation is fresh, and i’d be lying if i said i was over it. yet running into chan randomly for him to admit that he still wants to be with me, in some capacity at least, maybe that’s happening for a reason. i’ve felt so cynical about love for a long time. what if chan is the happy ending i’ve been craving all along?”

“i’m glad that seeing him went so well,” jisung chuckles, “i know when you two were with each other, you constantly talked about building a future together. you were happy with chan, there’s no denying that. but…”

“i know, i know,” you cut him off, so he doesn’t have to be the one to bring up the uncomfortable reminder, “he was my first love, and my first heartbreak. i can’t forget that he ended things because i distanced myself from him. i was scared, jisung. even though, or perhaps because, we were so young, our relationship was so idyllic. everything seemed to line up perfectly, and yet there was a pit in my stomach because i always worried that something was missing. could it have been that i found what was missing by growing up?”

“you sound like me,” he teases, a bit impressed, “it genuinely could be that you needed time apart to figure yourselves out before you could make it work. you and chan were great together; anyone could see that. if giving that relationship another, more mature try, is the right move, then you have my full support. but y/n…is chan the one you want to be with?”

“i…” you glance over at the poem hanging on your fridge, briefly feeling the way hyunjin’s words had moved you that night not so far in the past, “i’ve been feeling cynical about love and relationships for a long time. seeing chan made me feel hopeful again.”

“was it really chan that changed your mind?”

you roll your eyes and scoff, “whatever hyunjin made me feel doesn’t count. we weren’t even together anyway.”

jisung sighs, “just because you weren’t technically together doesn’t mean you didn’t build a relationship. the way you felt about hyunjin is what changed your mind on love, if you ask me. and, as we’ve already established, i have earned my wisdom when it comes to love.”

you both laugh, relieving the tension. jisung definitely knew what he was talking about, and you know that he wouldn’t say anything regarding your love life if it weren’t important.

“what do you think i should do?”

a sweet and sympathetic smile appears on jisung’s face, “you know i can’t answer that. what i can say is i hope you chase after what’s right for you now. the younger version of you deserved real love, and who you are now deserves real love. that love might look different, whether it comes from the same person or not. it’s probably the romantic in me, but i think you’ll know if you’ve found that love. i hope you trust your gut, and i’ll support you no matter who or what you choose.”

with that, you thank him and remind him that you have a novel to finish, which means you don’t quite have the time for an existential crisis about love tonight. he laughs, wishes you luck, and heads home. you sit at the table for a while, quietly thinking to yourself about the events of the day. you never thought you’d be in a position like this, but you guess that signing up to live out one fanfic trope makes you more susceptible to living out other ones too. with that in mind, after finishing your edits, you decide to add one last line to the ending.

after all that had happened to us, and in spite of whatever would come, the center of everything was this: i have longed for you since the moment i met you; therefore, i will always love you.

before you can second guess yourself, you send it to your publisher and close your laptop. unable to resist the tears, you sit at your kitchen table, full of relief and sadness, and cry. regardless of what tomorrow brings, one love story has ended. in chasing toward your tomorrow, you have to live with saying goodbye.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“hyunjin!” jeongin looks up from his desk, face composed but eyes wide with surprise, “i wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.”

hyunjin approximates a smile to the best of their abilities, “i figured i should hand the final piece in directly.”

“as always, i appreciate the personal touch,” jeongin grins and points to the large canvas leaning against hyunjin’s body, “is that it?”

“yes,” they gaze down, peeking at the image, “i finally finished it.”

quiet, hyunjin places the painting on a work table in front of jeongin. jeongin examines it, thoroughly dedicated to appreciating every brushstroke. the compliments on his artistic choices are personal and detailed, but hyunjin barely registers them. they’re sure they will be able to hear the precise, sincere feedback a different night, maybe when the exhibition opens, so hyunjin only feels a twinge of regret at being spaced out yet again. jeongin must have been able to tell that hyunjin was only half there because he quickly transitions his praise into a goodbye. hyunjin gratefully accepts the exit plan.

“oh, and hyunjin?”

hyunjin pauses near the door, facing their friend with their full attention, “yeah?”

“take care of yourself, yeah?”

“of course.”

hyunjin makes it only a block before the tears start streaming. hearing those words from jeongin, the type of friend to refrain from casual sentimentality, breaks hyunjin’s thinly veiled detachment. the facade they barely maintained in the past few weeks lacked resilience. how could there be any solidity to him when hyunjin spent the recent past floating away?

they walk aimlessly for some amount of time, landing at a park bench. the afternoon sun would usually deter them from this spot, but the overcast sky makes the place feel less visible, less connected to the rest of the outside world. hyunjin hadn’t been outside for more than a few minutes at a time since the conversation at the restaurant, so they melt into the bench with hopes that vitamin d will cure them of their self-inflicted heartbreak. cure is perhaps too strong of a hope. hyunjin doesn’t believe anything could undo the hurt he caused, but he wants to believe that the suffering won’t last forever.

in case the sunshine can’t clear all their problems away, hyunjin calls minho. they feel selfish and stupid and hate that they could be interrupting someone else’s good day, but he can’t think of anything useful on his own. all the time in the studio, all the distancing from friends, all the nights spent writing in their journals couldn’t remove the pit in their stomach, the rock in their chest. the guilt weighed so much more because your name was written all over it.

“hyunjin,” minho answers on the third ring, “how can i help you?”

they laugh through the tears, sniffling, “your customer service knows no bounds.”

“i expect a tip.”

hyunjin laughs again, grateful for a fleeting lightness in his chest before confronting everything that’s crashing down, “minho, i messed up.”

minho sighs on the other side of the line, “do you want to talk about it?”

thankfully, minho doesn’t rush hyunjin to respond. hyunjin, overcome with just about every emotion they’ve felt in the past few weeks, feels another wave of tears emerge in the presence of his friend’s patience and understanding. they’re not sure what they’re looking for, but being able to admit their mistakes feels like the right place to start.

“i really cared about y/n. like…deeply. more than i’ve cared about someone in a long time, if ever. i miss them, and it’s my fault. it’s like a sick joke. this whole arrangement was built around us finding inspiration for our work, and now, because i got scared, i learned what yearning actually feels like. i feel it in my body, like the urge to reach out for something–someone–that isn’t there anymore. it’s so cliché, and i used to make fun of people for saying it when they went through a breakup, but i look for y/n in everything i see. they’re gone. the feeling of them beside me is like a phantom limb, but i am responsible for the amputation. i feel like i can’t even be sad about it because i’m the one who left. i can’t even say i don’t know what went wrong because i ruined it. i regret it. minho, i don’t know what to do.”

“hyunjin,” minho sighs, “you need to be kinder to yourself. yes, you made a mistake, but you don’t deserve to tear yourself apart for it.”

“don’t i though? what i have–had–with y/n was so special. they deserve so much more than what i gave them, what i was giving them and then immaturely ripped away. they were so kind to me, so honest. and i threw that all away without so much as an explanation.”

“okay,” minho lets out a breath with a hint of frustration, “i really think you’re taking this self-flagellation thing way too far, but i won’t waste time arguing with you if you don’t want to believe me–”

“where did you learn ‘self-flagellation’?”

“hyunjin, seriously?” minho deadpans.

hyunjin can perfectly picture the annoyed look on minho’s face, and he laughs, “sorry, you’re right. we were being serious and vulnerable. i shouldn’t have interrupted with a joke.”

“exactly, you shouldn’t have interrupted the vulnerability.”

“are you talking about you or y/n now?”

“a little bit of both, but mostly y/n. you got scared because you two were so open with each other. you felt seen in a way you hadn’t before. that’s rare. all of us would be or have been intimidated by something like that.”

“not everyone runs away though,” hyunjin frowns, kicking a rock by their foot, “i did the thing you’re not supposed to do when you find someone as…perfect as y/n.”

“do you want them back?”

hyunjin bites his lip, scared even now to be honest about their desire, “it’s not like they would give me a second chance. they’re smarter than that.”

“that’s not the question i asked,” minho replies, kind yet firm.

panicking, they reply, “you know, even though it was a fake relationship, we kissed once. it was my idea, sort of as a joke. we did it anyway, ‘for the plot,’” hyunjin chuckles, “there was this clarity, in the seconds after we kissed. i realized then and there that i was far more tied to y/n than i ever expected or could have hoped. i know it sounds dramatic, but it’s like, with them, my heart and soul were…now they’re…life isn’t…i just thought that things would have turned out a completely different way, and maybe i was romanticizing things–i probably was, i always do–but that doesn’t change the fact that…”

hyunjin pauses their rambling to take a deep breath, knowing there are only a few words left to say, “i want to be with y/n.”

for a brief second, the weight of everything falls away into sweet certainty. hyunjin wants to be with you, plain and simple. their stomach twists at the fact that you weren’t together because they ran away, but his heart leaps in hope that maybe things could still change.

“do you feel better now that you’ve said it?”

hyunjin sighs, relief rather than regret, “yeah. i do.”

“good,” minho pauses, and hyunjin imagines he’s cracking his knuckles in preparation for the nitty gritty advice he’s about to drop, “i think it’s important to point out that, just because you were fake dating each other doesn’t mean that you two didn’t have a relationship at all. you shared a connection, and the bond you built together was real, even if you weren’t earnestly trying to be romantic partners.”

oh.

hyunjin stays silent, so minho continues, “like i said, running away from someone, something special, because you’re scared of how much they mean to you is a mistake we all have or will make. don’t keep beating yourself up for it. also, don’t keep being dumb by avoiding y/n. if you feel the way you say you feel, then you owe it to yourself and to them to be honest, even if it’s coming a little late. take a chance. you’re already hurt, and you’ve already hurt them. what else do you have to lose?”

“i can’t believe you called me dumb while giving me the most insightful advice i’ve ever heard.”

minho laughs, “life’s about balance, hyunjin.”

hyunjin rolls their eyes, “i guess you’re right. about both things.”

“mhm. i usually am.”

hyunjin scoffs, “okay, if you’re going to gloat about being wise, i’m going to hang up.”

“good!” minho sighs the way one does after a long day’s work, “it’ll give you time to figure out how you’re going to get your person back.”

“you’re so annoying,” hyunjin huffs, “thank you. i’ll tell you how it goes.”

minho hums in agreement, rushing out a don’t forget to stop being dumb! as hyunjin ends the call. hyunjin sets their phone down next to them on the bench and takes a deep breath. the late afternoon is already melting its way into the evening. as hyunjin stares at the setting sun in the distance, they think about the beloved painting above their desk. out there, somewhere in the same city, there’s a chance you are at your bedroom window, saying goodbye to another day with hyunjin on the outside, a part of the world not welcomed into your home. what they wouldn’t give to change that.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

tag list: @velvetmoonlght @tirena1 (<333 tysm)

#sweetkpopmusings #stray kids fluff #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids fic #fake dating au #skz hyunjin #non idol au #skz fic #skz x reader #skz fluff #skz au #stray kids au #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids angst #skz angst #long for you

37 notes · View notes

fourseasonsfigs · 9 months

Text

Building Block Figs - Catching Light

Continuing on from the last Building Block Figs - Basking in the Sun and Building Block Figs - Beautiful Fight Scene in the Middle of the Lake, Part 1 and Part 2, we have this wonderful set.

These figs make me laugh - I love them so much! I don't know why, I just find them ridiculously charming.

This building block set is 1,544 pieces, measures 8.4 x 17.6 x 15.6 cm, and is rated 10 hours. I did indeed take all 10 hours to build this, if not a little bit more.

Here is the sales pic of what the finished product is supposed to look like:

Cute, isn't it? As usual, sellers do a much better job of setting the scene than I do. I will say, though, that I did make two little tweaks to the set to make it a bit more canon compliant. Can you spot them?

It'll be easier to tell as we get better pictures, so I'll get into it!

First, here's the box of doom bricks. Like the others, this came in a generic sales box, with a super handy little unsnapping tool, and a sticker with a black and white image of the set and QR code instructions.

Once again, you'll notice my line up of extra bricks from the previous sets hanging out in quasi-neat little rows. Originally I figured I'll leave them all out in case I ran short of any, but in reality, this set maker gives me extras of each color every time. Which is handy, as you will see for later posts, when I make some adjustments to the fig sets to make them a bit more canon compliant.

As you can see, there's a LOT of extra bricks left over. To be honest, there shouldn't be so many white bricks - those are from another set that I made a major change to. I'll post about that one tomorrow.

Here's the different order of assembly - I went ahead and started with the base and tree, as they suggest.

As you can see, this is a very beautiful terrain here. I did not remember this area being so green and flowery from the show - in fact, I remember it being kind of sandy and desolate, but my memory is pretty lousy, there might be a scattered flower or so. Let's check.

HUH. There is not a flower in sight, is there. Hmmm. Well, this is kind of gonna bother me. Maybe I should have looked up the inspiration before putting together the entire 10 hour plus set, huh! Well, the little flowers are easy enough to lever off.

Hmm, anyway, moving on (for now).

So a couple things here. First, as you can see, there are only two green colors. I mean, one normal color really - the light green here is actually a neon green. It's brighter than it looks here. It looks great here, don't get me wrong, but now all I can see is the very sandy terrain of that screenshot.

Second, I tried something a little different here. It actually takes a long time to sort all the individual bricks, so in an attempt to shave off some time, I decided to experiment with this set. As you can see, I dumped the entire bag out to the right and am just picking out individual pieces as I go.

You'll note it's now evening. This tree took a LONG time to build. I actually timed myself up to this point, and to get to this mostly-done state took 2 hours and 58 minutes. I was pushing hard, too, because I really, really wanted to get the whole tree done that evening before I went to bed. But there was no way. I was too tired and was hitting the point where it was less fun and more work. So, despite really not wanting to, I summoned my inner adult and called it a day here.

Fast forward through time to the next day, and I'm all bright eyed and ready to bust this tree out. And it's done! I like this tree a whole lot...I think they did a beautiful job modeling it. Imagine if they had the full Lego suite of colors and special pieces! It would be really something. I kind of like it this way though (although I would take more colors, I can't lie). It really has an old-school style charm.

You can see the grey rock there where Lao Wen will be propped up against. And of course, the cheerful greenery and pink and yellow flowers.

Feeling VERY accomplished, I put the tree aside, and moved on to A-Xu.

Yep, looks pretty good. I was a little surprised they picked the medium blue color instead of the dark blue color, considering how bright the dark blue color actually is. But this looks fine too.

I am going to proudly say that I did, in fact, knock this fig out in record time. I've put together two and a half A-Xu figs by now (the half is going to be explained tomorrow, I promise!), so this third one went like a breeze.

As you can see in the back, I couldn't help myself, I was starting to make a few little piles of the colors I was working on. The big messy pile of bricks was kind of a pain, and I had to keep resisting the urge to sort them out.

And here he is! All done. He has a very solemn no-expression on his little brick face, which is appropriate. Can you see how there's a little bit of a neck (nothing too saucy or anything), the thin white layer of his under-robe, and then the lighter blue layer? I love it. Very charming. We also have his black belt with a bit of the tails.

It was yet another evening by this time, but since I did manage to finish him before I went to bed, I did indeed sleep the sleep of the righteous.

I woke up even brighter eyed and with pep in my step, ready to rock this last fig out. 10 hour assembly time? I don't think so!

I had now made three Wen Kexing brick figures, so the fourth one was gonna be just as quick as A-Xu was, no doubt. I pulled up the instructions on my phone, and got ready to go. 95 steps for our battle-weary Valley Master, huh? Huh. That's kind of a lot. But considering A-Xu was 85, not too bad. The tree was 119, by the way.

As I looked at the picture, however, I noticed that they had Lao Wen's (virtually) omnipresent hair wispies here. Given that this red wedding costume is the one outfit where his hair is pulled back all the way, it kind of bugged me. Which is funny because I've never liked how he doesn't have the wispies with this hair style on the show. It's my least favorite look on him, which is too bad, because I did like how they at least mixed his hairstyles up some. In my defense, I feel like I'm right (so right!) about how much better he looks with the wispies with this hair style, because you could see it at the concert. And he looked spectacular.

Anyway. Warring between my extreme desire for him to have the wispies and the simple fact of it not being canon, I started to build.

I got the first big chunk done very quickly indeed. Many of these figs are done where you do a big piece, and then set it aside while you work separately on the next piece. This is where I was.

And that's where I stayed, for a long time. I built this piece three times. I had to completely disassemble the entire thing the first time I built it, because I was off on my brick count, and the second time I had to disassemble it down to the first third.

Part of the problem was the way the directions were. As you can see, they still have the first "set it aside" part showing up on the directions directly under the new piece. Unfortunately, all that red blended into each other when I rotated the image around, and it was very easy to accidentally think I needed more or less pieces than I actually did.

I went ahead and built it with the wispies, as directed...and then just couldn't do it. I disassembled half the head and re-built it again without them. I also think that this fig, just like Lao Wen, does not look as good without them, but canon is canon.

Unfortunately, it was so late and I was so tired by the time I finished him (and yet also pretty jubilant), that I forgot to take a pic of the finished fig! Yes, I literally finished this set late last night, despite my best intentions of finishing it up and then triumphantly posting about it on the same day. It did, in fact, take longer than the 10 hours build time.

It took a long time, in general. My finger tips have actually toughened up a bit, so they don't feel sore from snapping the bricks in place, but my neck isn't all that pleased with me from hunching over these various sets for so long. So, I've been taking a few more breaks to stretch and do other things.

But, I woke up early today, and very happily took this set's beauty pics in the clear light of the morning. I love it!

I love how this set all fits together. We have the tree growing over the edge of the base, and Lao Wen there leaning up against the rock. A-Xu is standing with his elegant posture, and their little brick hands are reaching out to each other. Cute cute cute!

Wow, this light is great. I clearly should get up early to take fig pics more often.

The tree looks great, I think (and not just because I spent hours building it!).

This is a good view of the rocks behind Lao Wen here, and his big ponytail (I do like this part of his hairstyle).

The green doesn't look so bad on the ground, I think. I'll pull off the yellow and pink flowers, and maybe make a brown patch on the corner closest to A-Xu. That'll keep it colorful but make it a bit more like the show.

A-Xu's hair looks great, as usual. You can also see how I removed the wispies on Lao Wen's hair. I'll get a close up later so you can see it better.

Shoot, not my best pic - can't really see any of the detail on A-Xu's glorious night-black hair.

There we go, now you can. Oops, I see I knocked a tiny piece out of kilter on the bottom of his hair, I'll have to fix that. But! Here you can see both changes I made from the instructions - the lack of wispies of course, and then I made Lao Wen's guan gold instead of white. This took a while too, because I didn't have enough yellow pieces. The only yellow I had from any of the sets was literally from the yellow flowers here and the few extra they gave me of it. I actually pulled a few yellow flowers off the base there and replaced them with green or pink, just because I needed them for his guan. I then also carefully checked to see what internal yellow bricks were covered up by the black of his hair, and replaced them with black so I could save the yellow ones for the parts that did show. I'm very happy with how it turned out! It looks just like the white one, except, you know, yellow.

I don't know why they didn't originally design it with yellow, given that it is gold on the show, and they had already included yellow bricks with this kit. Maybe they felt the white stood out more or something. Anyway, it was bothering me it was white, so I'm glad I was able to figure out a way to make it work.

Alright, we're back around! And a bit of a different angle here, so you can see the poses a little bit more clearly.

Alright, a true top-down pic here. May I just say one more time how much I like this tree! The detail in A-Xu's guan is really nice too.

The bottoms-up pics are always tough here with the bases. Not a flattering picture, sorry A-Xu!

A close up of our noble shixiong with his little hand outstretched...

...and our weary shidi. What a great set, I love it! I'm so delighted by it, I can't even tell you.

Alright! come back tomorrow, for the much hinted at next set. And the last one, for a while - I have to wait for the remaining sets to be sent to me.

(Come back tomorrow, she says, as she still has some assembly on the last fig to do! I'll wake up bright and early tomorrow, and hopefully finish up).

Material: Plastic bricks

Fig Count: 506

Scene Count: 35

Rating: They're actually both reaching for their light

[link to the Master Post Index]

#word of honor #wenzhou #wen kexing #zhou zishu #word of honor merch #shan he ling #figthusiast

15 notes · View notes

stevenbasic · 2 years

Text

GITJ Post 300: A Monday After, p2

“We’re going to need allll the gory details,” Randi had said, making my heart stop there, for a second. Jesus, good, I realized, she wasn’t talking to me. M had been telling us about - alllllll about - how she spent her Sunday with him: ‘Painting’: suuuuure.

“…and Omigod girls,” Melissa was saying, adjusting her hair so the cameras could get a scan of her long neck and throat, “you should have seen the way his eyes popped out when I flexed up my muscles.” She was recalling her afternoon yesterday with him. “He could hardly talk..!”

"And what's the problem?” Randi laughed back, "It sure sounds like you got his attention. I say go for more. When are we going back to the gym together?”

“Oh god I haha honestly can’t wait. I was there this morning, going back tonight,” Melissa laughed back, “and I can’t wait to be with him again either…”

So we were here, Monday morning, at this shoot for the sculptor; I still can’t believe how insane the new office’s entryway is going to be. M was in the dress they got for her, Randi doing pics herself for social media while the other cameras took measurements. Melissa was recounting - giving Randi the ‘gory details’ - what the two of them did yesterday. We all knew it, and knew exactly how many times. Some of the girls had been at the rally while I’d been doing - as much as I could - damage control for whatever the hell happened to me on Saturday night…speaking of ‘gory details’. Blood is so hard to get out of lace. And it was all I could do to control myself and not jump out the window and go hunt again when the new surges came that afternoon. I'm actually kinda freakin’ out. Do I tell anyone? That I think I might be the one the police are looking for? Maybe I should wait ‘til after the election tomorrow. Things are sure to get weird anyway and maybe this sort of thing won’t haha be as big a deal. I actually kinda liked the news story I saw from that one place. ‘Harpy’ has kind of a nice ring to it lololol…

“Hey so anyway, Randi,” I said, taking her aside as M began posing again for figure measurements across the room with the photographer, who was now using some sort of laser, “We have to talk about these emails he’s been getting. This Anderson guy sounds like he’s on the run, now he wants J to join him.”

“Marisela, seriously,” Randi replied, “King Twerp’s not going anywhere…” She nodded over at M, who cut a striking figure under the studio lights, posing, arms high above her head. Whenever I thought maybe I was getting too big, too busty, I only had to look at Melissa. The woman’s body was becoming absolutely insane. “Look what he’s got waiting for him at home here…”

Christ she’s a goddess.

“But, uh should we tell Melissa about this?”

“Mmm maybe not…” Randi answered me, “you know how she gets.”

=================

Thanks to GBHMax for the body morph. Please support him and all our contributors where you can.

#growing into the job

45 notes · View notes

harrumphingtons · 1 year

Text

Alright, theories for tomorrow's episode... this got long, so this post is entirely just theories about the Jamie plotline.

The title "Mom City" is obviously a play on Man City which is making me associate the mom that will appear in this episode with Man City/Manchester in general so... Jamie's mum appearance?? Considering that this kinda has to be the episode with the Jamie's childhood bedroom appearance in it, I'm pretty sure we're gonna get to meet Jamie's mum!

As @gottagobackintime (sorry to have tagged you if I'm not supposed to do that, still kinda new to tumblr and I'm not sure if I should tag a person if I'm mentioning/linking one of their posts?) pointed out last week in this post, 'mom' is an American and definitely not British way of addressing one's mother, and it just have easily could have been called 'Mum City' if Jamie's mum is the only Appearance Of A Mother, so I'm guessing, like most people, that Ted's "unexpected guest" (episode blurb) is going to be his own mom. Fathers and sons have been a very obvious recurring theme throughout this whole show, and two of the most prominent father-son relationships in the show have been Ted and Jamie with their fathers, so it'll be pretty sweet to see the both of them interact with their moms this episode, instead.

Ok, so Roy and Keeley are going to be worried about Jamie. My first thought was that something's going to happen to his mum, considering the episode title. But it's more likely that his doesn't-deserve-to-be-called-a-dad is going to show up again, especially considering we (and Jamie, probably) never got any closure/follow-up after the Wembley locker room scene in 2.08 "Man City" -- which, by the way, that episode title kinda mirrors "Mom City", so that's another reason to assume Tartt Sr. is going to show up again. And, Jamie was (I think?) playing at Wembley last episode for the international matches, which is, again, the sight of the last know Tartt Sr. sighting, so... does that count as foreshadowing???

Is it just me, or does Jamie literally look like he's about to cry in the promo pic/episode thumbnail? Ok, I've thought he looks like he's about to cry many times when he didn't end up crying, so maybe he just has glassy eyes, or something but. Still. I've got a feeling we might get a Jamie tear or two this episode. We're definitely getting an emotional scene I myself am I going to cry while watching, though.

I'm assuming that Richmond is going to finally beat Man City this episode. I'm really hoping that Jamie gets to put in the winning goal, because I kind of feel like narratively that just makes sense. I don't know. I like the idea of it. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but we still haven't scene Jamie make a goal on screen this season! Considering his England call up, I'm guessing he's probably scored a couple off screen, but I also don't know much about football so maybe I'm totally off. But anyways, I really hope we do get to see him score a goal at least once this season, and hopefully more than once!

Adding on to the last one, I'm trying to figure why, exactly Jamie would be doing a press conference with Roy, and so far the only thing I can think of is he scored some super amazing winning goal and they want him to talk about it. Maybe he's pointing at Roy, like, "his extra training is how I got here"? But he also looks, if not about to cry, at least pretty upset in that picture, so I really don't know what's going on there.

My other, not Jamie-related theories for "Mom City" are here.

#ted lasso apple tv #tl #ted lasso s3 #ted lasso spoilers #ted lasso s3 spoilers #jamie tartt #ted lasso #roy kent #ted lasso speculation

20 notes · View notes

clarktooncrossing · 1 year

Text

HELLO THERE PEOPLE OF TODAY AND ROBOTS OF TOMORROW! IT'S ME, CLARK!

Happy National Cartoonists Day, everyone! What, you didn't think my current computer crisis would stop me from celebrating the Holiday, did ya? Actually, it almost did. Y'see, despite this piece being drawn by hand, my computer's scanner wouldn't save the file onto my craptop. My computer's going through a processing error, meaning it's set to stop working any day now. Fortunately this hunk'a junk managed to work just long enough for me to upload the newest Sketch BOOM! Yes my friends, the Sketch BOOM is back! I figured if I could only post one thing for NCD it might as well be something covered head to toe with cartoons. Some pretty well drawn cartoons too, if you pardon me tootin' my own horn. It just feels so good to have drawn something, have it come out looking as good as it does, and to be able to upload it here on tumblr for you all to see. For the record though, screw tumblr's stupid@$$ upload size limit, I freak'n hate websites that do that! It makes me as mad as a blood-cursed Croczilla fighting a sentient mobile home, but we'll get to that in a bit. For now though, let's see what silly sketches managed to make their way onto the page, starting from the top left corner and making our way down.

Don't forget to be on the lookout for the Snow Conies, the tiny sentient species of snow cones that have invaded almost every part of the page! Can you spot all 8?

[1] DID SOMEONE SAY PIZZA? You wanna know what the downside is of drawing at the bottom of the page and working your way up is? You have tiny pockets of blank space that you're unsure what to do with. Such was the case was this corner, having been left blank after drawing #2. For a while I thought of filling the void with a cosmically charged Snow Conie in the same vein at Rosie, but the Cosmic Cutie was already part of the BOOM due to Discord shenanigans. Instead I opted for a Clarktoon that sadly hasn't been drawn in a while, that being the ever-goofy Pizza Monster. No doubt he was lured here by the scent of all the pretzel pizzas I've been eating lately. While he was here I decided to experiment with his expressions, adding more cheek to his smile. Honestly I think he looked better without them. Still, I'm happy to see him here as I hope all of you are. Now if only he'd stop hogging all the grub!

[2] EYE OF THE THERIAN Rosie isn't the only character here due to Discord shenanigans. At the beginning of every month my friend @Foxhatart opens herself up to sketch suggestions on her Kofi page. For the record, those of you wanting to help out another artist keep food in their bellies can click here. With a few of these Kofi slots still left open, Fox came to her friends asking if they had any ideas for pics involving her characters. Not knowing a ton about her characters, I joked that she ott'a draw her half-lemur girl Cath bench press a bus, her freakish strength having become a reoccurring gag via game nights. Funny as the idea was, I didn't expect Fox to actually do it. You can imagine my surprise when this popped up in my inbox a few days later. Consider this doodle a long overdue 'thank you'. Here we see the crazy Cath lifting weights with, of all peeps, Bumper! No doubt the little marshmallow's here for moral support since he can't actually build up any muscle mass. Ghost problems, am I right? Hope you enjoy this silly little sketch, Fox. Next time I'll have Cath bench-pressing your mortal nemesis; a train.

[3] TOOK ME LONG ENOUGH Despite what I said about Pizza Monster, he actually wasn't the last sketch to be included. No, that honor goes to the metal mercenary, the bodacious bot bounty hunter, the anarchistic anti-hero herself; Candy Banger! Much like the aforementioned monster I figured it had been too long since I drew Candy or really any of the robotic cast of 3K. Atop of that, Candy represented a good chance for me to use the stockpile of poses I've saved up from a thumb drive. Using one from a tumblr site called @posereference turned out to be surprisingly easier than anticipated, the only real flaw in the end being how I colored her. This is one of many coloring errors I made on this piece, Candy's hair looking more bluish purple than I had intended. Still, considering I drew her at all, I doubt Candy's complaining. Here's hoping I can draw more of her in the future, otherwise I might be riddled with bullet holes like that wall behind her.

[4] AN AVERAGE DAY AT WHIMSYLAND And thus we've arrived to the first sketch of this compilation given to me by a friend, this one coming from @jackieariane. She and I both suffered during the Chapek administration of Disney, Jart regaling me with tales of when she dealt with rude customers at Animal Kingdom. It reminded me of when my friends AnimatedTigerGirl and RigbyH00ves worked at the Floridan Park too, all three of my companions having a surprisingly miserable experience. All these stories started melting together in my brain until I asked the question; what would happen if Brooklyn Nine Nine was set at Disneyland? Thus Whimsyland was born, albeit originally out of spite towards Chapek. I already detailed all this back in the DUDELZ from the Dumpster I posted earlier this year, but I failed to mention the human protagonist of this story, Wendy. Having been to Whimsyland once in her life at a young age, the young Vietnamese gal with OCD was immediately smitten by the place, vowing she'd someday work there. Spending the rest of her life researching the park and watching Matt Whimsy documentaries on uView, you can imagine Wendy's disappointment when she returned to the Perkiest Place on the Planet to find nothing was as perky. Whimsyland had lost its whimsy. It's here where she met Freddy Fox, the cartoon mascot of the company living in exile over how the house Matt built is being run today. In other words, what I'd imagine Mickey would be doing if he were real. Together these two kindred spirits are set to bring magic back to this wonderland! Overall I'm pleased with how the sketch turned out, though Wendy's face reminds me of my character Sue the Game Genie more than I'd prefer. Also, Fred Fox is way bigger than intended, no doubt I'll be changing that for future depictions of these two. For now though, this drawing has just enough Whimsy for my liking.

[5] CROCZILLA: BLOOD CURSE More Discord Shenanigans! This time it's the result of a Dungeons & Dragons campaign that @burningthrucelluloid somehow roped me into yet again. Instead of robots and dragons set in a medieval fantasy however, this time it's elves and crocodiles in an approximation of the American south. One ruled by Jerimiah Strahd, a ruthless blood-sucking bastard that Alec based off Leonardo DiCaprio's character from Django Unchained. If that wasn't a sign of how crazy this campaign has become, here's an actual moment from the game. The heroic but hesitant human Jason (YoungSamurai18), the loud-mouthed scaredy cat Toby (Mr-Herp-Derp), and the silent but deadly Ed (void-android), and the equally hungry and adventurous Crocie (me, of course) were hunting for a witch named Bubba Lysiga when all of a sudden the witch brought her mobile home to life in order to attack our heroes. Worse still, she put Ed under mind control to attack his comrades. Croc got the worst of it, his HP dropping to 0 due to him falling from the house and getting stomped on by its gigantic set of wooden chicken legs. Did I mention this campaign gets strange? Well it got even crazier when a dark, shadowy entity housed in Croc's body suddenly gave him a recharge, the reptile taking the chance to mix a Heat and Growth potion he obtained earlier to become CROCZILLA! It was a moment Alec was hoping would happen in game and I didn't intend on disappointing. Same goes for this sketch, it mostly going just as envisioned in my head. The pissed off look on my green friend's face, the damage done to the rusty trailer that is the witch's house, the tiny silhouettes of Croc's teammates in said home, the heavy fog, the Earth-shattering roar in the background, it all came out great. Save for one detail. You'll notice that Croc's eyes are black with red irises in this pic. That detail's due to Croc having blood curse abilities, hence the dark entity sharing rental space in his body. As such, you'd think Croc's fire breath would be just as vibrantly red, but sadly that idea didn't occur to me until after I made the fire blue as well as the shine off every surface. Spam it! Still, coloring hiccup aside, I'm mighty proud of this pic! Hopefully so are the rest of the Barovian Bozos that make up my team.

[6] WONDER ZIGGY, CINEPHILE FROM THE PLANET GARBONZA EVEN MORE DISCORD SHENANIGANS! Cut to a few months back and I was restructuring my Discord server, cutting down the multiple move threads it had before merging them all into one. Being the story-driven bozo I am, I quickly wrote a backstory for this thread involving an alien named Ziggy falling in love with the Earth B-Movies he was picking up on his deep space probe. So much so that he came down to our planet only to discover there were even MORE types of movies for him to enjoy! It overwhelmed him so much that he blacked out, awakening the next day having purchased a since abandoned drive-in theater on the outskirts of Clarksburg. Faced with this new impulse purchase, Ziggy followed the oldest piece of wisdom known to man or alien; Screw it. After a refurb Ziggy reopened the drive-in, screening B Movies and cinematic shlock to an appreciative public. And if you can believe it, I typed all of that out after thinking about it for five minutes. My brain is weird like that. All that said, it'd take a couple of RP sessions before I got his personality down, that being an MST3K character if the show were written by Joe-Bob Briggs. In other words, a surprisingly well educated weirdo with a deep love of Hollywood history. It'd take me a while longer before finally sketching him, basing him off the titular villain from Robot Monster, an appropriate design for someone who loves old, cheesy movies. All he was missing was a pink Hawaiian shirt and a cowboy hat. If you think he's strange, you should meet his wife Wanda, though let's save that for a future BOOM...

[7] LOOKIN' SPAM GOOD! What better way to show my friends I care than drawing them in ridiculous outfits? This sketch, the first to be included in this BOOM, is a merging of two repurposed ideas I had for other pictures. The first would've involved the Swedish menace Finjix with a fish bowl on his head much to the confusion of Alec, the recipient of a kawaii make over. I can't remember where the fishbowl idea spawned from but Sir Alec the Adorable came from him scoffing at the idea that I could make anything cute, himself included. Just you wait Alec, I'll get you someday! For now though I swapped out making him uber-adorable in favor of dressing him up like the Wasp from Earth's Mightiest Heroes, the awesome animated show he finally binge-watched on my behalf. Granted I could've drawn him as Maria Hill, the character on the show he deemed the sexiest, but it wouldn't have been as funny. After all, all Maria's outfit is a blue jumpsuit. Far less interesting than Jart's leather jacket, an image that popped into my noggin following her telling me she's learning to ride a bike. That and me desperately clinging onto the back as she gave me a ride, but that would've been harder to draw. Instead I went for the jacket, a fashion statement that would be stupid in real life since she lives in the infamously hot country of Vietnam. Yet even in the face of logic, Jart not only humored me but encouraged me to include this in the final sketch. Thank goodness she did cuz I love how it turned out, minus the green stripes that were accidentally colored black like the rest. DRATS! Not only that but she informed me that she was no longer using her fursona, instead opting to draw herself as a human from now on. DOUBLE DRATS! Ah well, I have more ideas involving 'Trang the Tyrant' as I've nicknamed her, so chances are I'll get the chance to correct both mistakes in the future. It might also give me another chance to draw myself as Super Giraffe, which was what I originally intended to do with my own fursona. Sadly the costume still needs work so instead I opted for my classic Pagonian Wizard robes. Even in the face of all these snafus, I think we all look spam good!

[8] ROSIE STARDUST, SPACE WIZARD Turns out I'm always right even when I'm spewing nonsense. Don't believe me? Plenty of peeps have made that mistake before. Take my friend Alec for example. In the midst of him running the current Strahd campaign I mentioned earlier, I jokingly tossed out the idea of Rosie transporting our heroes out of Barovia and into another universe. A cute 'What If' scenario the Dungeon Master wasted no time in shooting down. Mistaking my silly suggestion as a legit one, Alec explained how unfair it'd be for a god to play a game with a bunch of mortal meatbags. Let the record show that I never declared the sentient Einstein-Rosen Bridge to be a deity. Some alien cultures have mistaken her from one, but Rosie herself would be the first to tell you she's no holy being. Not that any of that mattered. Alec held firm to his statement, Rosie was denied access to any dungeons. For about six seconds before my buddy realized how a depowered Rosie would make a wonderful wizard for a Spelljammers campaign. Fueling this fire was his recent watching of The Owl House, imagining Rosie rocking wizard robes similar to those worn by The Good Witch Azura. Before I could say, "NOW EAT THIS SUCKA," he was leading the charge on my server of peeps demanding I draw Rosie as a space wizard. At first I was floored at the audacity! You shoot down an idea that wasn't meant to be taken seriously only for you to turn around and do so anyway? MAKE UP YOUR SPAM MIND! Then I followed Alec's example and got over it, the idea of Rosie in wizards robes too tempting a sketch not to capitalize on. In the end the only aspect of Azura that made it into the final product was the hat, minus the cute lil' crown. Everything else took cues from the fashion of @cherrysdesigns along with a style @girlofhearts101 turned me towards called whimsigoth. All of which resulting in an costume that gave Alec 'David Bowie Ziggy Stardust vibes'. It's thanks to that comment that Rosie now has a last name. Everyone, say hello to Rosie Stardust, universal explorer and space wizard!

[9] DIREKTOR AND 3D1T0-R Is there a Hollywood equivalent in the Star Wars universe? Some sort of glamorous planet where overpaid alien celebrities are shamelessly rebooting beloved classics for a profit? All while amazing writers are getting screwed out of the earnings they deserve? This was what I asked Alec during his binge watching of The Clone Wars. Surprising me once more, the Masked Maniac revealed that he had asked SIM-N the same question before, the two creating a character called The Direktor for their Monova comics. Her whole gimmick was producing hypnotic propaganda for the tyrannical Twin Emperors, a cool concept that never went anywhere due to the robotroll cutting From Destiny's Ashes short. Being the character man that I am, I decided The Direktor couldn't go to waste. Especially when she'd make such a good villain in the world of 3K and a good addition to this BOOM. After asking SIM-N for the character's original reference sheet I set out to give her a Clarktoon makeover while watching cutscenes of The Second Sister from Jedi: Fallen Order. No doubt Elizabeth Grullon's intimidating vocal performance effected my outcome, the alien movie maker now sporting a streamlined outfit along with a smugly sinister smile on her face. As apposed to her boss, the Direktor's little droid 3D1T0-R hardly changed in the transition. He was a little creepy ball to start and he's still a little creepy ball now. One that was cooked up by Alec according to SIM-N, which makes sense given our pal's passion for film editing. Once the two were fully drawn I decided to test out my shading and lighting techniques in an attempt to make her look more menacing. If the response I got from the others on Discord is any indication, I succeeded. Indeed, this fem fatale filmmaker will fit in phenomenally as a 3K villain. Now the question is to who?

[10] JURAKISS Finally we conclude things with a sketch somewhat prompted by @zernna. Way back in August of last year she was commissioned to draw my cretaceous crusader Saura and her girlfriend Patricia enjoying a delightful day at the pool, a pic as charming as that description would imply. In my comment thanking Ze I couldn't help but laugh at how the two had already been declared a cute couple despite how I hadn't drawn the two together in my own artwork yet. The Alien Artist than demanded I draw 'moar art of them then', prompting me to ask if that was a challenge. She said yes. Though not from a lack of trying, it took me nine freak'n months to meet that challenge. Blame that on me being a picky artist since I have been meaning to draw references of these characters in the meantime. After all, Zerna got asked to draw Saura in other pics without having any color references for the Blue Beast of Fosslin. Fortunately Saura's shown up in a number of previous Sketch BOOMs, now getting to share the spotlight with Patricia here. A Patricia that would've been notably paler were it not for Alec asking if I had any markers that matched Patricia's skin tone. I didn't, but the local hobby store did! Who knew Sharpie made skintone markers? It not only helped me color in the cute Muslim girl here, but also Cath and Wendy later on. Talk about a perfect purchase! Now if only the colors of Patricia's outfit were as satisfactory. Ah well, there's always next time, since I'm pretty sure Zerna's challenge still stands. XP For now though, I hope you all enjoy this compilations of crazy scribblings fresh from my mind. If you didn't, worry not, chances are I'll be making another one soon....

MAY THE GLASSES BE WITH YOU ALL!

14 notes · View notes

unrequited-words · 2 years

Text

I posted 90 times in 2022

That's 26 more posts than 2021!

18 posts created (20%)

72 posts reblogged (80%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@i-am-bi-not-gonna-lie

@elytrians

@funnytwittertweets

@javarisx-fightingthosedemons

@fatmaninalittlesuit

I tagged 17 of my posts in 2022

#personal - 17 posts

#mine - 17 posts

#s - 17 posts

#my zod - 3 posts

#baby ogaard 😍 - 1 post

#astrid pamela - 1 post

#astridpamelaogaard - 1 post

#this baby truly is a miracle - 1 post

#first time mom - 1 post

#nlo - 1 post

Longest Tag: 28 characters

#this baby truly is a miracle

My Top Posts in 2022:

I haven’t written here in God knows how long. Nothing much has changed. Still at the same job. I make a little more. I pay for everything. Hes still a stay at home dad and work for him is slow. On his line of work he doesn’t make what he should and the job market is fucking trash. I’ve seen it. He’s still looking for work. I realized when I wrote that post back in March of last year he wasn’t cheating then (dirty texting) it started in February.

His first wife who he was in contact with sent him dirty pictures. I looked at the date and it was when I was asleep at four am. I woke up two and a half hours later and got ready for work. I know it was a Saturday. It doesn’t punch me in the gut like it did when I first found out, but it’s still sad that he has a women next to him (me), a brand new baba, and yet he’s dirty texting his first wife while swapping dick pics.

Maybe it was my temper, or because we had fucked? Who knows, it was 18 months ago and I don’t remember. I don’t know why I’m writing this now.

Our kid is two, and she is growing. That’s beside the point. The point is, why do guys cheat even if they have a woman next to them? Sure it’s just dirty pictures and they aren’t fucking, but they might as well be.

He’s sleeping currently. I made him dinner and it’s on his desk cold. I’m thankful for how he helps and I do love him. I just hope I don’t end up being a single mom doing it on my own.

It’s almost six pm and the baby is watching paw patrol. She really likes it. She hasn’t napped at all today and probably won’t. Hopefully I can go to bed in the next four hours so I can get ready for work tomorrow. He may help his brother paint tomorrow. If he does, I have to figure out how I can work a full eight hours with a two year old. I won’t bring this up to him. I’m just like wow he was doing this while I was working.

He was probably drinking vodka at the time which mind you I paid for. I’ve been paying for everything for the last two years. Since he became a stay at home dad in November of 2020. I can do it on my own if I wanted to.

I worked out earlier because he said he was going to. I know I’m a fucking fat loser with no prospects and that’s probably why he cheated because I mumble under my breath and I’m difficult to live with. I don’t speak to anybody except him and two girlfriends who pretty much don’t speak to me unless they text first.

I’ve given up everything to move here and it’s much better than Vegas but is this what I get? I don’t mean to play the victim and there is his side… I’m working at a job I’m starting to hate, never leaving the house unless it’s for groceries and I basically live at home.

I’m happy I have a kid but not happy I got cheated on even if he doesn’t think so. I’ll probably delete this but when he drinks vodka I’m on edge. Will he pass out? Whose watching the kid? It’s this way when I’m working. It’s very fucking stressful and it’s been this way since he stopped working due to his anxiety. He stopped drinking vodka and started on beer but he said to grab wine for me and a bottle for him. It also helps to clean the heads of his vaping which I use too and I KNEW if I got it he’d drink it. I got it Tuesday and the bottle is almost gone.

It doesn’t matter. I’m in a rut and fucking sad. I don’t talk to anybody about it because I trust nobody. I keep to myself. I post pictures of my kid doing cute shit on SM. Other than that I don’t exist. I’ve been here two years and still haven’t had a vacation. I can’t afford it. With the PTO I do have it’s used for being sick. I currently have 14 hours and we can use unpaid work points which I have but I can’t afford that.

Sorry to ramble. I’m just really sad about this shitshow I’ve created and choose to stay on. Not a shitshow I don’t understand why he dirty texted her and I don’t want to have that conversation with him because I don’t have the emotional energy or time to argue. It’ll come down to why are you going through my phone? I wanted photos of my kid that he took, and yet I stumble across p u s s y pictures that are still backed up on your google photos?

Yet, I’m the c u n t if I bring it up. I know I’m playing the victim I’m just like why would you do this when your second wife fucked other dudes and you found out just like I found out. Sure you have kids with her but I’m in the same boat. Just like you I got cheated on except you didn’t fuck the bitch who you sent dick pics to. What’s ironic is the time stamp when I found out her sent his dick pics to her. It was right before I got on my last break.

How is that okay? How are you okay sending dick pics and have your gf who has your kid walk out of her work area and will ask how are you? Do you need anything?

I’m such a fun c k i n g cuck 😒

To be continued

3 notes - Posted August 11, 2022

Fuck, I’m tired. Slept like shit again. Baby woke up one time at six. Finally around 6:40 when my alarm went off. I checked up on her, made coffee and went to work. She’s napping and I’m betting you money she will be up in the next 90 minutes and I don’t get a nap in. Her dad is napping. 87 minutes to go.

Fuck I’m tired 🥱

4 notes - Posted August 15, 2022

When did my tiny 31 weeker turn into this giant two year old 🥹

4 notes - Posted December 13, 2022

There is this game that came out in 2019 called days gone. Husband is playing it and it’s a mix of red dead redemption and GTA 5

It does NOT disappoint.

Minus whoever TF are these writers of the main character did a fucking hack job

And yes, I’m still drunk 🤣

4 notes - Posted November 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I finally fell asleep around two this morning. The baby woke up around nine and I finally got up (my day off) currently soaking some dishes, the laundry is almost washed and I don’t really feel as hung over as I did when I woke up last night.

This cold is on the tail end as my nose won’t stop running. The fevers are still steady at 99° and no matter the Tylenol, vitamins etc it won’t go away.

My boss messaged me on teams and said I am bonusing on this check again, and it’s more than last month by 10.00 which is fantastic.

We are still working on potty training, and she is still scared of the potty. Maybe by seven she will be fully potty trained 🙄

I had some coffee this morning, but I should just stick to water. My stomach needs to heal from all the alcohol and acid it currently has in it

I can’t wait for naptime later. It’s not even 11 😫

5 notes - Posted November 17, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

4 notes · View notes

hospitalterrorizer · 8 months

Text

diary136

1/28-29/2024

sunday - monday

we moved a ton of stuff today.

we have the bed, some shelves, a table and desk, and a bunch of books + dvds + games + clothes and whatever else, bathroom stuff skincare stuff, moved over now. so basically we are in, as in, we will never sleep in our old home again, the change is made and final and it's really sad for me. i also spent like 2 hours just scrubbing the floor here it was so filthy and maybe there's just something wrong with me but it does not feel clean enough to me. there was still food stuck to the floor in the kitchen. whoever moved from here did a terrible job picking up after themselves, and the sink in the bathroom is just terribly fucked up, like, i pulled the plunger to fill it with water, and the rod came out, it was secured to nothing, i pulled on the stopper, the thing in the middle of the sink, it just like, literally came out, it was broken and sitting in there. fucked up place. i know i just need to adjust. i'm like an animal, i'm really stressed by moving and i need to spend a whole few months here to ever be at ease totally i think, everything stresses and scares me, i am sad that we are losing the view we had, it was so pretty, you could see so much of the sky. you can see some here, and the doors of our last place, they were big windows basically, so we could see a lot outside. privacy i guess was hard in a way but i liked being able to just look out there.

there is good stuff about this place, it's not like i really hate it, there's a lot of frustrating stuff but the extra space is gonna be nice. i guess we will also be nervous about going out at night here, i have a friend who'd hang out with people who live in apartments around here and all the women who'd hang out w/ him at a bar 5 minutes of walking away would all get ubers or whatever, out of caution. on some level i think stuff like that is like, paranoia and stuff. idk. i get the fear but i don't think most people out here want to fuck with anyone especially, or i and my gf have grown up relatively vigilant, but we also don't want to chance it i guess. like i said the other night, no one was really around campus, especially when i went there, now it's like, we're just totally in a residential zone, but i think at worst it's just catcalls we're going to experience. that's everywhere, though.

tomorrow i might post some pics i took in here, they're weird, though (intentional).

i rlly need to sleep soon but i have been still trying to get the song right. i think this is the closest, the guitar tones sorta match eachother re: frequency response which is good, they should, cuz guitars usually share a lot of that in common, even when they sound crazy or whatever. i also figured i'd try something weird and put a spring reverb plugin in the chain of distortions and stuff, and it sounds really good, it's really not even doing reverb stuff it's just using the algorithm in the thing for something weird. i like to imagine it's making it sound like there's strings interacting with space but it just adds a nice scrape-y quality. i might be using this on a lot of things.

listening now the right guitar just needs to lose some of the low end stuff, i can do that at the end i think, it's just a bit too much, and thennn idk. it should sound fine... i hope. i'll do that tomorrow. now i just have to sleep so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!

1 note · View note

heavyhitterheaux · 2 years

Text

One and Only

AN: yall probably are going to want to fight Urban after this 🤷🏾‍♀️

Synopsis: You're tired of your long term boyfriend acting single so you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine

Pairing: Urban Wyatt x Reader

Inspired by my Luna love @sinsandsuccubus 😘💕

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

You couldn't quite put your finger on why your boyfriend was still acting the way he was as of lately, but you were tired of it.

But, you shouldn't be surprised.

This is how he acted before the two of you had gotten together.

The only problem is that even though you held the title of being Urban's girlfriend, the title shouldn't even exist at this point.

Any time he went out he would be surrounded by different girls.

And none of them were you.

People would tag you in the posts.

The strippers

The lap dances

Getting drunk and high in public

Oh, and let's not forget him doing a body shot off of someone's boobs that weren't yours.

But you still stayed.

For reasons that you couldn't quite understand.

At this point, it was embarrassing and humiliating to see that someone who was in a relationship that was publicly known act the way he did.

You saw the looks of pity.

You were told numerous times that you didn't deserve this from different family members and friends.

The fact that even Urban's best friend Jack told you that you could do better.

He knew Urban like the back of his hand and knew his ways and from the looks of it, things had only gotten worse.

He thought that the antics might stop since he had asked for you to be his girlfriend but it was the exact opposite.

Urban acted as if he never had a care in the world or a girlfriend waiting at home for him.

I guess he figured, if she hasn’t left by now, then what makes you think she’ll do it now?

As far as you know, Urban hasn't slept with anyone else, but you had a feeling if he kept this little routine of his up that sleeping with someone else would probably be next on the list.

You knew he loved you... or did he?

Or did he love you simply because you were reliable and always there for him when he needed it?

Urban was going on tour with Jack and you had helped him pack everything in his suitcases.

You were nervous to say the least.

Different city every night also meant different girls every night which also meant them not knowing how to keep their hands off your boyfriend and to themselves.

He leaves tomorrow morning around 6 am to catch his flight and you were dreading it.

You weren’t really dreading it because you knew that you would miss him, that was a given.

You were dreading it because you already know that there will be plenty of pics and videos showing his extracurricular activities.

For now the two of you were just laying around the house and having a relaxing day.

One thing about your boyfriend is that he was perfect in every other aspect.

You didn't want for nothing with him.

Except him engaging in hoeish activities.

When he was with you, he was the perfect boyfriend and it was like a switch was flipped.

It was almost as if you were dating two different people.

"I'm going to miss you." You confessed while looking up at Urban who had his eyes focused on the television in front of him. He broke out of that trance when he heard your voice.

"You know you can always come with me, baby."

"If I want to keep my job, I can't."

If you wanted to eventually break out on your own, you needed to learn all that you possibly could and pay your dues.

"Can't you take off for at least a week?"

Honestly, every time that Urban left he would try his best to get for you to go with him, but nine times out of ten you opted to stay home.

"I'll see what I can do but no promises."

"You work too hard mamas."

"I have goals I want to accomplish. I have to work hard."

"Not being my girlfriend you don't."

"Not everyone has a famous best friend."

"But still..."

"Like I said, I'll see." You replied while kissing Urban's cheek.

"That way we can fuck in multiple countries. Maybe even join the mile high club."

"URBAN!"

---

It took some convincing but you were able to get a week off from your job and told Jack and Neelam so that you would be able to surprise Urban.

So far you hadn't been tagged in anything displaying Urban's nonsense which you were thankful for.

Maybe he got it all out of his system and is starting to change?

Your flight had been delayed so you missed Jack's performance, but was happy that you would be able to spend more time with your boyfriend.

The entire team had gone out to celebrate at a popular club in the city after Jack's performance and you decided to make your way over there. After you had gotten settled, Neelam sent a driver to come and get you and you began to make the short fifteen minute trip.

Once you were inside, you immediately spot Jack in the VIP section and he motions for you to come towards him. He met you halfway and brought you in for a hug.

"Hey Y/N, I'm happy you’re here."

"Always happy to spend time with you guys. Where's Urban?"

"Umm.."

"Jackman start talking. NOW."

"Look, I warned him not to, but..."

You peeked over Jack's shoulder the best that you could since he happened to be a lot taller than you and all you saw was red.

You went around Jack despite him trying to pull you back towards him and made a beeline for Urban. If you were a cartoon, there would have been steam coming out of your ears.

You make eye contact with Urban as he gets a startled look on his face and pushes the girl off of his lap.

Caught red handed.

The only reason why you probably didn’t know sooner is that no one was actually posting pictures and videos of what he had been doing when he was out of your sight.

At this rate, he was worse than a toddler and never knew when to quit.

"Y/N! Baby, what are you doing here?"

"Don't baby me. I was trying to surprise you but I see that you're still up to your old ways. I should have known."

"It was just a little dance. Doesn't mean anything." He says while looking at you but slipping the girl some cash.

"Are you serious right now?"

"I'm not about to argue with you right now in public."

He had you fucked all the way up.

"Oh, but it's okay to basically embarrass me and be all over other girls in public?"

"Babe, quit overreacting! Like damn, you always do this shit."

"If you even think that this is me overreacting you have no idea what I'm actually capable of."

"You act like I'm fucking every girl I see!"

"With your eyes, you definitely are. And how am I supposed to know that you aren’t?"

"You doin too much right now. I have never cheated on you."

“No you just like to do body shots off girls who definitely aren’t your girlfriend.”

“That was one time.” Urban muttered before breaking eye contact with you.

You scoffed before answering.

"Hmm okay then. Pick one."

"Pick what?"

"Me your girlfriend even though that title should be used very loosely or your hoeish activities because you damn sure can't have both."

Urban had a look of disbelief on his face, but remained silent.

That was all the confirmation that you needed.

"Looks like I got my answer." You responded as your eyes filled with tears and went to make your way towards the exit.

Jack tried yelling for you, but you needed to get away from everything and everyone.

You knew you should have stayed home.

---

It had been about three months and you had cut off all contact with Urban and you told all of your friends to do the same thing.

You were at the point that you didn’t want anything to do with him.

If he wanted to move about like he was single, then there wasn’t even a second thought to let him go.

It hurt like hell, but for your peace of mind you knew that this was the best option.

He could be free to do what he wanted.

While you had to work on healing your heart.

But, that was okay.

You knew it wasn’t the end of the world and that relationships would come and go.

However, you just knew Urban was your soulmate.

As crazy as that sounds.

To get you out of the house, a friend of yours was throwing a party and had been begging you to go for weeks.

You really didn’t leave the house except to get food and go to work and you had officially turned into a hermit.

You wanted to get back out on the dating scene, so you immediately said yes.

Little did you know the surprise that would be waiting for you that would take place during the night.

Urban walked into the party surrounded by his best friends and simply took in the scene in front of him.

He partied, drank, and smoked a lot heavier than he had been because he missed you.

He admits that it was stupid on his part to let you go.

And for what?

Lap dances and body shots?

Now he had been lonely as hell and didn’t have anyone to blame but himself.

You wouldn’t answer him when he called, the unanswered texts.

After the first month, he stopped trying to contact you.

He figured if you wanted to talk to him that you would’ve.

We were now on month three and nothing but radio silence was coming from your end.

Jack had hit him on his arm to get his attention and broke him out of his thoughts.

“What?”

“Uhh, is that Y/N?”

You did look slightly different, but there was no doubt in his mind that it was you standing there across the room in front of him.

You had dyed your hair.

Was that a new tattoo on your arm?

And you were surrounded by a lot of male attention.

“We can leave...”

“Nah. I’m good.”

He in fact, was not good.

He had his eyes on you for the entire night, so much so that Jack was starting to get concerned.

But, you still had yet to notice him.

“Uhh, Urb, you are literally burning a hole in the back of her head. Go talk to her.”

“She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“You won’t know that unless you go over there. Truth be told you never deserved her in the first place because of your fucking antics...”

“Thank you for that.”

“Just being honest.”

It wasn’t until he noticed you and the guy you were dancing with were basically fucking while you danced on him.

Jack saw the look on his face and before he could say anything, Urban immediately made his way over to you and proceeded to throw your over his shoulder.

“WHAT THE FUCK? URBAN?! PUT ME DOWN! NOW!”

The two of you made it outside before he put you back down on the ground and you had a look of disbelief on your face.

“Okay um, for starters, hi, hello ex-boyfriend that I want absolutely nothing to do with. Second, what the absolute FUCK is your problem?”

“Look, I just.... I get it.”

“You get what?”

“Why you would get so defensive and mad over me being around other girls.”

“Okay, you got a taste of your own medicine. But guess what? You’re single and have no girlfriend now so I could care less.”

You turned to walk away, but he caught your arm turning you back towards him.

“Please Y/N, just give me another chance. I promise to do right by you this time.”

“Oh, I see. You don’t like when someone does the exact same thing to you so now you’re trying to make up for the shit you put me through. Is that right?”

“For the most part.... yes.”

“And you expect me to say yes with no hesitation?”

“I just.. please baby. These three months have been absolutely miserable without you. I promise you won’t have to worry about me disrespecting you anymore.”

“I’m not your baby. How do I know this isn’t a ploy just to get me back and you turn around and do the same thing?”

“Well, you don’t. It’s just a chance you have to take, I guess.”

“But, am I willing to take it? That’s the question.”

“You know I love you and I always showed you that.”

“Except when you would rather go get attention from strippers instead of spending time with your girlfriend.”

“Mamas, I don’t expect for you to make this easy for me but got damn. It doesn’t have to be this hard either.”

“Oh, but it does. What you put me through....I would have NEVER done that to you. And you want to know why? Look at how you just acted in that party when a man wanted to dance with me. Someone who wasn’t you.”

“I don’t know what more I can say, Y/N. I just... if you give me the chance you won’t ever have to worry about something like that happening again.”

You were quiet for a few minutes contemplating on what you wanted to do.

Did you love him?

Yes.

Do you see a future with him?

Yes.

Would you be able to look past what he did when you two were together before?

You honestly didn’t know.

You took a deep breath before saying anything.

“Urban...”

“Yes, baby?”

You didn’t even bother to correct him this time.

“If I give you another chance, the SECOND I hear about you doing some shady ass shit we’re done FOR GOOD. And I mean for good like there’s no coming back from that.”

“Okay, I got it. Soooo that means you’re my girlfriend again?”

“If you don’t fuck this up, I expect to be your wife but that’s another conversation for another day.”

“Best believe, I’m going to make that happen.”

Urban then kissed you and proceeded to pull you into a hug and you completely relaxed in his embrace. You missed this but you damn sure weren’t going to tell him that.

Noticing this, he smirked.

“Looks like someone missed me a lot more than she’s letting on.”

“Don’t push it Wyatt!”

Taglist:

@harlowsbby

@babyharleezy

@hoodharlow

@stefansalvatoresgf

@jackiehollanderr

@primadxna-girl

@dessmxsworld

@cockslutslurper3000

@raelorns21

@variety-fangirl

@gbaabyyyy

@kamorsstuff

@harlowthot

@sinsandsuccubus

@curlyhairclub

@bootlegroach

@haylexo10

@thinkingaboutjharlow

@laylasbunbunny

@fluidsentiment

@charli123456789

@moody4world

@yourstrulymayah

@yana4life

@beanbagbitch

@alinadolans

@carma-fanficaddict

@minaxcarter

@arination99

@xjup1t3r

@venusvinc

@jacksmoviestar

@jackharloww

@midnight-star47

@jackharlowsbabe

@minkookie95

@inluvwithladybug

@tynesharandolph8633-blog

#urban wyatt #urban wyatt x black reader #urban wyatt x reader #urban wyatt fic #urban wyatt fanfic #urban wyatt fluff #urban wyatt angst #urban wyatt concept

298 notes · View notes

junghelioseok · 3 years

Text

heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

#hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #bts smut #bts scenarios #hoseok scenarios #jhope #jung hoseok #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #kpop scenarios #hoseok x you #strangers to lovers!au #strangers to lovers #lia writes #gonna change that stupid summary if i can think of anything better LOL #my brain went all mushy on me idk what's happening

2K notes · View notes

fourseasonsfigs · 1 year

Text

Peerless Little Prince - New Year's JZEU Series (11)

We continue along in the Junzhe Extended Universe with our sparkly-eyed tsundere prince, Zhong Wumei.

Gong Jun played this prince in Unique Lady 1 and Unique Lady 2. This is higher up on my to-watch list since the clips I watched previously were so cute, so one day!

The inspiration for this particular figure is this costume:

This is the first fig in this series that is resin! As you can tell by the packaging:

Since all the figs in this series have been PVC to date, it didn't occur to me he might be made of a different material. I didn't bubble wrap this little guy like I normally do. Luckily, he arrived safe and sound.

And here he is! The little sideways smile is of course my favorite expression - it's cute and mischievous!

He actually has more personality from this side angle! It's the sparkly eyes and the rascally smile that does it!

I like this fig's asymmetrical costume a lot, as well as the fact that he's wearing a cloak. I don't have many figs that have this little extra accessory.

Our Wumei has a lot of hair tied up in his half ponytail here.

I like the slight swish of the cloak off to the side.

This fig stands really well. Of course, he goes on a fig stand like all the rest of my figs, but he's nice and stable to begin with, which is good. I've noticed that some figs that are heavy and very off center to begin with, often stretch out the fig stickers.

Cute little rosy cheeked prince!

This is a great angle to see his asymmetric hair whispy. It looks like he's leaning waaay forward in this pic, but it's a little bit of the angle that I took it at. He's the got the tiniest bit of Fig Forward Lean to compensate for the weight of all that hair, but it's not quite as much as it looks here.

And back around! It's a bit of a unique touch with his costume here that the outer robe splits in the front to show off his pants and boots. I'm so used to the costumes that go all the way to the ground, or just graze the top of the boots. The pattern on it is clear and sharp on it too - beautiful!

Little better view of the pants and boots, as well as the underside of the cloak. May I also just take a minute to say how much I appreciate it when figs have nice wide feet like this - makes it so much easier to balance / stick them firmly on the stands. A lot of figs have tiny little feet that are like 2/3 the size of this.

That guan isn't messing around! Has to be heavy duty to hold back all that hair.

Speaking of hair, this is not an uncommon view from the back of a costumed fig, although I want to say that higher circled piece that's pulled back there on the left is unique to the figs I've seen.

This box card is super cute. It's in the form of a video game character info block, similar to the concept of the film! The stars rate the following characteristics (in poor MTL):

Overbearing ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Witty ⭐️ Distinguished ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Appearance ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Ahahaha! Poor Wumei, I guess he's not funny at all! But he's not too overbearing, so that's good! Too funny.

Here's the back - I really do like the video game conceit!

Come back tomorrow for the next fig in this series!

Material: Resin

Fig Count: 314

Scene Count: 23

Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ +⭐️!

[link back to Master Fig Index for more posts]

#gong jun #jzeu #junzhe #zhong wumei #unique lady #word of honor cast #woh cast #shl cast #figthusiast

7 notes · View notes

kyidyl · 4 years

Text

Kyidyl Does Archaeology - Part 3

(As before, parts 1 & 2 can be found via the KyidylCL tag.)

THE PITS

So, we’ve got the info about the site and we’ve got the prep work done, so what next? Digging! But archaeologists don’t just randomly dig, we dig in very precise ways. There’s, generally speaking, two ways to make a hole for an archaeologist (and this *doesn’t* apply to burials. Burials are done differently.): a pit and a trench. A pit is usually a specific size and meant to uncover a small area. A trench is a long area that takes a cross section of a specific area and is meant for exposing lots of area. When you’re doing a whole settlement often a trench is used because of the volume. We’re doing a mixture, and we started with two 5ftx5ft pits (~1.5 meters for the non-americans in the crowd. Good rule of thumb for ft --> meters is that 3ft = 1 yard = 1 meter, approximately. It’s not exact but if you’re trying to imagine how big something is, it’s a good way of thinking about it.).

Pit one only had 1 interesting thing and I don’t have any pictures of it really so I’m just gonna tell you about it real quick. In pit 1 we found a feature, which is a spot where the dirt is a different color in an unnatural shape because humans did something. This particular feature was a post hole from a palisade wall. That’s interesting for two reasons: 1, the natives didn’t build palisades until they came into conflict with the colonizers. It isn’t that they didn’t need defenses previous to that, it’s that the people they were defending against didn’t have horses or guns. Once the colonizers arrived, they started copying their method of defense. 2, palisade walls are made of large trees. To cut them down they were first burned in the place where the cut was made to make cutting them easier. And this means CHARCOAL.

Archaeologists love charcoal. We can date that shit really easily. And this particular charcoal was sent out for dating. Came back as 1700s, which makes sense for this area. It took the colonizers a bit longer to push up into the mountains, so the dates for contact and treaties and that kind of thing are later than official first contact in the 1400s. So that’s the latest date we have for the site.

Now, pit 2. Pit 2 was, and still is, the most interesting pit on the site so far (we’ve opened a number of others, but it’s...lots of plow scars and jumbled artefacts.). Archaeologists, as I’ve mentioned, dig this kind of stuff in layers. So for our site (and I know a few of you following me are also archs, so I need you to know this was the site director’s choice not mine. >.<), we have a sod layer, layer 2 - the plow layer, and layer 3 the layer below the plow layer. General rule of thumb, at least the way I was taught is that you do it in increments or when the dirt changes color, whichever comes first. So layer 2 for us is pretty thick. Here’s what the pit looked like at the end of day 1 after we’d gotten the sod off and started bringing it down evenly:

The bucket is covering the test pit that’s at the center of it. The string is the boundaries of the pit, but also we attach what’s called a datum to it. A datum is a known spot above sea level that you use to make measurements as to how deep something is. It’s basically a string with a line level and you stretch it out until the line level reads, well, level...and then you use a ruler from there down to whatever depth you’re measuring. So when we find like...arrowheads and points and stuff (and this pit had several) we record where they were by saying “_____ inches BD”, or “below datum”.

Anyway, you can see already where there are some rocks and differences in color of the dirt. It’s honestly not all that interesting but I figured you guys might like to see the progression. This is that same pit about 2-3 working days later, and this is where it started to get interesting:

Some of the difference in color there is because some soil is freshly exposed and some isn’t. The pit in the middle is the remains of the test pit. The lighter dirt at the bottom is sub-soil for this area, so it’s where the plow zone ends. The rocks may or may not have been added by people, so we record them just in case. How you deal with rocks depends entirely on where you are digging. In Florida, where I went to school, rocks are important because 99% of what they’ve got there is sand and shell. So if you find rocks they were probably put there by people. Here? Sometimes it’s just part of the ground and sometimes it’s people. It really depends on how far down you find them. This is about midway through the pit so it could go either way. So we do what’s called “pedestaling” where we dig around them and let them sit on a pedestal of dirt. You’ll see that in a lot of pics going forward. The reason that we’ve dug those upper corners differently is because we were starting to see soil color changes and we were investigating them separately. Good thing too, because they both turned out to be part of a large fire pit feature. Next slide!

So here you can see that the dirt in those two areas that we’ve dug is a distinctly different color - it’s reddish. Reddish dirt is a sign that the dirt has been heated, so we’re following the red dirt here. The digging changes from going in layers to following these features. And we’re really methodical about it so that we don’t remove too much or too little and lose the line of the feature. Here we were lucky, all the dirt inside those features was full of tiny specs of charcoal. And, in the upper left up there - which was my feature to dig - there were huge chunks of charcoal. Also a really nice piece of pottery. Well, I mean, comparatively. It’s still just a large sherd that I accidentally snapped in two while removing but like it counts. The square in the lower leftish is ust from like the foam I’d been sitting on. Getting into a pit - rather than digging it from the sides - is something you do NOT do without permission and a lot of care. Here, the ground is really solid so I wasn’t going to ruin anything by getting in there and the pit was getting too deep to effectively dig from the side, so I spent a lot of time in weird positions on the flat parts of this pit. So, anyway, here’s a close up of the feature so you can see what I mean about the charcoal:

Charcoal is very, very black so when you’re digging it stands out bc nothing else is that dark or that bright. Everything else is covered in dirt. But you can see it there in the top half - it’s those dark flecks and blobs. There was a ton of it, and when I say a ton, I mean we got I think almost 300g just that DAY. And y’all know how light charcoal is. This was the stuff we sent in for c14 testing along with the palisade charcoal and it came back, if I’m remembering right, mid-1300s. That’s a period called the late woodland. It matches up with the pottery and points we were finding, but I’ll get to that when I start in on the finds.

Now, I thought you might need some help with this next image so I brought it into procreate and drew on it. I know it looks like it came before the previous stage, but it didn’t. What happened is that we brought the whole pit down deeper to expose the edge of the large features. We also found a post hole in the process!

So I’ve marked the layers of dirt in the side wall for you so you can see what I mean when I’m talking about them. I’ve also marked out the bottom of the pit bc this angle made it a little hard to see. In the upper right you can clearly see the darker dirt of the post hole. A post hole is exactly what the name implies - someone dug a hole, stuck a post in it, and later the post was removed and filled with moar different dirt and now it’s a different color but in a distinctly unnatural shape. You can also see that we’ve long ago dug deeper than the test pit. The area I’ve marked “bridge” is an area of soil that didn’t have charcoal in it between the two pits that did. There was charcoal throughout that area - hence the blue boundary - but for the features themselves we were following the red dirt. And if that feature on the right looks deep to you it’s because it *is*. I dug it out and followed the charcoal and it went *under* the bridge.

Now you guys probably don’t realize this, but this is like...stupid deep to be finding this kind of stuff. We’re like 3ft below the surface here and still going down deeper. Around here the rate of topsoil accumulation is like...an inch every 600 years or so. The charcoal coming out of this pit is only 700 years old and it’s 3ft below the surface. So we’re likely looking at a hole that was dug by the natives for their own use. The thing that was confusing us was that we didn’t see the feature even start until we were almost at the bottom of the test pit so like...8 inches or so down. (about 16cm. 1inch is approx 2cm.) But then I was looking through some of my earlier images of the pit and I noticed this:

(north is the same direction in both pics)

The rocks, the ones that could be either nature or people, approximately outlined the areas we’d found the fire pits. This is why you document shit. Even though this is still pretty deep to be finding this kind of thing, it at least makes more sense in the context of very disturbed site. So there might have been more evidence higher up, but it’s in the plow layer so we’ll never know. So what was the feature? Well, the two features were actually one feature (and you’ll have to wait till tomorrow’s post to find out how I know that.), and I think that might have been one of these:

(image credit)

Or something similar anyway, but I have to do more research about native cooking methods in this area of the country. But it would fit with the two holes and a bridge of dirt with no charcoal that we saw while digging.

Anyway I know this post is super long but I swear we’re almost done. When we finally finished digging the damned thing it looked like this:

(here I’m standing on the north side of the pit, so the top is the bottom in the other pics.)

We think that this might actually be part of another feature so it’s a little...ah...yeah it’s just weird. Those rocks were definitely from people, so maybe they were lining the bottom of the pit or something. If I could draw your attention to the black crud in the wall to the right of the pedestaled rocks, I’m gonna tell you one last story about this pit. That is a burned like...conglomerate of crud. It isn’t charcoal (charcoal is fuel for the fire, not what they were using the fire to make). Here’s what it looked like close up:

(aw yis macro lense)

See those circles? Those are *seeds*. I sent it to a former prof of mine who is an ethnobotanist for ID and she says she thinks it’s chenopodium AKA goosefoot, which was a staple food for the natives for a long time. One variety still is: quinoa. So basically, what we think we’re looking at is a 700 year old cooking accident. Or, as my professor put it:

So forgive the length, and I hope you all enjoyed this installment. =D

#archaeology #native americans #history #science #kyidylCL

211 notes · View notes

dearly · 4 years

Text

Pete Wentz (6:39:20 PM): Hey Ryan Ross (6:39:39 PM): hey Pete Wentz (6:40:09 PM): Is this the guy fro poanic at the disco Ryan Ross (6:40:23 PM): yeah im ryan, is this pete? Pete Wentz (6:41:12 PM): Yeah Ryan Ross (6:41:18 PM): hey man Pete Wentz (6:42:37 PM): How arer you Ryan Ross (6:43:17 PM): im not bad, working on a paper for english. hows everything with the new record? Pete Wentz (6:44:37 PM): Going really well Pete Wentz (6:45:04 PM): How's everything wiht your band are those just remixes Ryan Ross (6:46:01 PM): awesome, yeah we only did those on my laptop because we cant get into a studio yet. but we still have alot of those parts live and full band Pete Wentz (6:46:25 PM): Does it have samples like that Pete Wentz (6:46:42 PM): How many people are in the band.... Are you guys all in hicghschool Ryan Ross (6:47:20 PM): do you mean do we use a sampler? our drummer uses a drum sampler which we put some of the stuff on, and he plays some of it Ryan Ross (6:47:43 PM): im in college. im 18 the other three of them are 17 and in high school Pete Wentz (6:48:26 PM): Like of the pure volume site songs what would not be part of your live show Ryan Ross (6:50:18 PM): well right now the synth stuff because we need a keyboard player. we are trying out a few guys soon though. and some of the drum parts are different. Pete Wentz (6:50:48 PM): I absolutely love the stuff Ryan Ross (6:52:16 PM): but we have two guitar players one sings and i play lead. its kind of hard to describe it. we are a rock band but about half of a song will be dance-ish or sort of 80s sounding Ryan Ross (6:52:28 PM): really? wow thanks alot man Ryan Ross (6:53:12 PM): it really is a huge compliment coming from you Ryan Ross (6:53:35 PM): i was actually really suprised you listened to it Ryan Ross (6:53:40 PM): i didnt expect you to see it Pete Wentz (6:54:00 PM): Is there some pics of you guys anywhere Ryan Ross (6:55:10 PM): no, we are taking them pretty soon for the website, its just not done yet. i have some just of me on livejournal. but thats wierd haha Pete Wentz (6:56:09 PM): Yeah fuck get some to me Pete Wentz (6:56:19 PM): I think I may come see you in californaia Ryan Ross (6:56:44 PM): really? Ryan Ross (6:57:08 PM): that would be awesome Pete Wentz (6:57:46 PM): I've been listeneing to those songs nonstop. Is the band a side thing or is it gonna be fulltime? Ryan Ross (6:58:20 PM): no its full time Ryan Ross (6:59:24 PM): well aside from school. which sucks Ryan Ross (6:59:32 PM): but we want to do this Pete Wentz (7:00:00 PM): When are those kids out of school Ryan Ross (7:00:26 PM): the drummer and bass player are graduating early. so like january and other guitarist/singer graduates in the spring Pete Wentz (7:01:16 PM): Nice Pete Wentz (7:01:23 PM): Do you know about my label Ryan Ross (7:01:46 PM): yeah i think i saw something a while ago on a journal entry, is gym class heroes the only band on it right now? Pete Wentz (7:03:10 PM): Yeah. I signed the academy. But they are fbr strictly gym class and I am looking for another Pete Wentz (7:03:33 PM): The cool thing about it is I just met with waner and they want both of the bands and to give me an imprint Ryan Ross (7:03:55 PM): oh cool i like the academy alot, oh i see yea i was going to ask you about that Pete Wentz (7:04:03 PM): Which pretty much means a lot more money to promote cool artists Pete Wentz (7:04:14 PM): You guys plays out a lot? Ryan Ross (7:04:39 PM): thats awesome man. actually no we just kind of started this thing up a few months ago, the show in victorville is going to be our first one Pete Wentz (7:05:51 PM): Really Pete Wentz (7:05:56 PM): Interesting Pete Wentz (7:06:11 PM): How much do you guys practice Ryan Ross (7:06:45 PM): we've been trying to figure out the best way to do this stuff live, and we've been having a hard time on figuring out how to make it sound good. depending on the place we might not be able to use all the electronic stuff that we want to do which sucks but alot of venues, at least here might have a hard time setting us up. we practice at

least 4 times a week so like. between 24-30 hours a week Pete Wentz (7:07:09 PM): Nice Pete Wentz (7:07:21 PM): I am gonna come to the show Ryan Ross (7:08:13 PM): we wish we could more often. but school is getting in the way. and it sucks cause parents think its a waste of time playing music and want me to focus on school. im sure you know how that is. Ryan Ross (7:08:23 PM): thanks alot man really Pete Wentz (7:08:55 PM): I do Pete Wentz (7:09:05 PM): What are peoples reactions to it Ryan Ross (7:10:04 PM): some good some bad. everyone is so into post hardcore stuff these days that some kids just brush it off. which is fine but then some kids like it cause its a little different i guess Pete Wentz (7:11:30 PM): Can that kid sing live? Ryan Ross (7:12:54 PM): yeah, he's been taking voice lessons for a little bit so thats starting to help him Pete Wentz (7:13:19 PM): Is he on? I mean on here he sounds awesome Ryan Ross (7:14:21 PM): yeah he's on pitch, we recorded that stuff with like a 100 dollar vocal mic. the only effects we used was pretty much reverb on the main parts. Pete Wentz (7:14:42 PM): Yeah sounds good kind of like patrick Pete Wentz (7:14:47 PM): I like it Ryan Ross (7:16:57 PM): yeah thats the only thing we get that alot. and thats just how the kid sings. we like your band but we dont want to sound like you guys, or be compared to fob all the time you know? but yeah he is aware that kids say he sounds like patrick so he's just trying different vocal stuff sometimes. Pete Wentz (7:19:06 PM): Here's the thing if I show you guys interest a lot of crappy labels are gonna come and do the same and I don't want a huge mess out there. I mean how interested are you guys in going fulltime when you can Pete Wentz (7:19:19 PM): Yeah you'll get eh patrock thing but how many people. Sound like hime Ryan Ross (7:19:47 PM): so you really think we've got potential then? Pete Wentz (7:19:54 PM): I do Ryan Ross (7:20:05 PM): i've wanted to play in a band for my job ever since i started high school at least. Ryan Ross (7:20:07 PM): we all want to do this Ryan Ross (7:21:05 PM): its like i cant put enough dedication into anything exept playing guitar and writing Pete Wentz (7:23:01 PM): I'm with you Ryan Ross (7:24:05 PM): but yeah. i cant see myself doing anything else but playing in a band, cause every job i've ever had ive hated it Pete Wentz (7:24:57 PM): You don't have a picture of the band Ryan Ross (7:25:44 PM): no, but if you need it i could have my buddy take some tomorrow at practice Pete Wentz (7:26:58 PM): That would be rad Ryan Ross (7:27:37 PM): okay we'll take some Ryan Ross (7:28:08 PM): are you online much? Pete Wentz (7:33:12 PM): Sometimes Ryan Ross (7:33:35 PM): okay, i was just wondering if this was your email incase you arent on i'll just send them Pete Wentz (7:34:17 PM): Yeah send it here for sure Ryan Ross (7:34:36 PM): okay Ryan Ross (7:34:55 PM): dude this better not be a joke, it better be you Pete Wentz (7:35:12 PM): It is Pete Wentz (7:35:34 PM): But there are a lot of fakers out there Ryan Ross (7:35:55 PM): okay. yeah i know someone has shown me like fake journals of you and stuff. thats creepy Ryan Ross (7:36:10 PM): thats why i asked if it was you for sure Pete Wentz (7:36:32 PM): This guy who is iming me is your manager Ryan Ross (7:37:03 PM): is it xxxtoughffxxx ? Pete Wentz (7:37:22 PM): Yeah Ryan Ross (7:37:38 PM): i dont know if he's our manager. he's our friend, he's been helping us out with a website, merch and the show in victorville Ryan Ross (7:38:35 PM): he's starting a company up and he wants to help us out Pete Wentz (7:43:04 PM): Ah I got t Pete Wentz (7:43:32 PM): It Pete Wentz (7:43:37 PM): You guys are awesome and if its what I think it is I want ti to be thenext academy Ryan Ross (7:44:58 PM): wow thanks alot. i hope you like the stuff live, its not completely different but it is different. i mean the singing is the same and all that. Pete Wentz (7:47:46 PM): cool Pete Wentz (7:48:06 PM): You guys look good. The chicks gonna be swooning? Ryan Ross (7:48:38 PM): once we get

a keyboard player who can do all of the sampling we want to do it will be alot better too. its like we know how we want to sound, but just finding the right way to do it i guess is what we are working on. Ryan Ross (7:48:40 PM): hahaha Ryan Ross (7:48:51 PM): i dont know man, we look alright i guess Ryan Ross (7:48:57 PM): we look young Pete Wentz (7:49:42 PM): Youngs not abd at all Pete Wentz (7:49:47 PM): How does the singiner look Ryan Ross (7:50:05 PM): dead sexy. Ryan Ross (7:50:41 PM): he's no pete wentz. but still Pete Wentz (7:51:42 PM): Hahaha Pete Wentz (7:51:54 PM): Goddamn as long as he looks cool.singing Pete Wentz (7:52:14 PM): For sure send me pics and all how many songs you guys have? Ryan Ross (7:52:39 PM): haha Ryan Ross (7:53:00 PM): kk Ryan Ross (7:53:54 PM): we've only got 4 right now, its been tough to write since school started and everyone's busier. and those are the first 4 songs we've written as a band. at the show we'll play those and a cover of new order maybe. or depeche mode. we dont know yet Pete Wentz (7:56:08 PM): Nice Pete Wentz (7:56:21 PM): I gotta run Pete Wentz (7:56:32 PM): But ill hit you on here later Pete Wentz (7:56:38 PM): Send me those pics and write the hits Ryan Ross (7:56:43 PM): okay dude. good talking to you Pete Wentz (7:56:43 PM): Peaaaaaace Ryan Ross (7:56:44 PM): hahaha Ryan Ross (7:56:47 PM): later man Pete Wentz is away from the computer as of 7:56:51 PM. Auto response from Pete Wentz: Igot99problems Pete Wentz is back at the computer as of 10:05:48 PM. Pete Wentz is away from the computer as of 10:06:23 PM.

#pete wentz #ryan ross #brendon urie #i just don't trust shit not being deleted anymore don't mind me #reference #bandom #long post #panic at the disco

139 notes · View notes

burnedbyshoto · 4 years

Text

disconnected

— Kirishima answers a phone call that wasn’t intended for him, and of course he can’t help but be interested in the beautiful voice and soul that angrily began to rant about their day. —

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

pairing: kirishima eijirou x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, lil angst (lol sorry), cursing

word count: 7,786

a/n: this was a stupid thought that slammed into my mind, and here it is!!!! now I have a calc midterm tomorrow that I did not look at because why think about double derivatives and integrals when I can think about kirishima????

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

It was eleven at night when Kirishima strolled out of his bathroom, ready to go to bed. After a rather long day, he was looking forward to sleeping and not having to wake up at the crack of dawn. Tomorrow for the very first day in a very long time, he wouldn’t have to work at the local coffee shop he was hired at. It was a job he had acquired with his good friends on the promise of it being a manageable job on top of his college work, and of course, the pretty girls who would go in.

From what Kirishima had gathered from the four months working there was that there were a lot of pretty girls who entered the coffee shop — most of which were focused on the angry ash-blond friend of his — and that it was so unnecessarily stressful.

Some days he was up at four in the morning to open at six for the morning regulars, then he’d go to his afternoon classes, only to return for a two-hour shift in the middle of rush hour, and would leave while trying to keep the peace between a certain ash-blond and two new hires. To say the least, it was hell on Earth at times.

Regardless, he didn’t have to open tomorrow morning, so he was content! On top of not having classes tomorrow, Kirishima was excited to sleep in.

Falling on his bed with a massive sigh, Kirishima snuggled his face into his pillow, rejoicing in the way that the laundry detergent still clung to the fabric and relaxed.

Sleep sounded so—

RIIING.

Kirishima’s eyes slammed open, his head snapping to see his illuminating phone on his nightstand. He had no idea who the hell was calling this late. There was no way it was Bakugou; he was asleep already at this point. Sero had broken his phone two days ago during a failed stunt and wouldn’t be able to get a new phone until the weekend. Kaminari only called him when there was a bug in his apartment, but he was currently closing… maybe it was Mina? Kirishima shook his head, no, he hadn’t spoken to Mina in ages.

Grabbing the phone, he didn’t bother to look at the caller ID and answered.

“Hello—?”

“Oh my god, I am fucking raging! You can’t believe what kind of fuckery I just went through tonight!” a voice shouted into the receiver, and Kirishima flinched a bit at the loud and angry voice. “So you know how I wasn’t supposed to work today, right? Because my coworker had sex with her ex-boyfriend like an idiot, and I owed her for covering my shift three months ago, but anyways irrelevant. I’m taking the order of this one group of adults. That’s right, A-D-U-L-T-S, adults! They are completely staring at my tits the entire time, and not my face. At first, I thought maybe you know, I had spilled something on my tits earlier, no. No! NOTHING! So I call them out on it, and they say something along the lines of ‘you could be a camgirl with that body, but like not in a sex sort of way’ I’m sorry, WHAT?! Like yes, continue sexually harassing your server who is a college student and therefore has no will to live, so will gladly beat your Gucci belt wearing ass into a bloody pulp! What they gonna do? Sue me? I have one dollar to my name, fucking take it, I don’t care, I’ll find another dollar in the sewer after I beat their asses up!

“But you know, I’m saying all this in my head because I’m broke and can’t afford to be fired from this place because the tips are hella good here. But they continue saying dumb shit, and then the obvious ringleader — I know he was the ring leader because his beard looks like it was the first picture printed on a new ink cartridge and his manspread was ten times wider than all of theirs — have the fucking audacity to slip his number while only tipping TEN DOLLARS ON A TWO HUNDRED DOLLAR TAB!!!!” Kirishima doesn’t know what to say, his jaw on his mattress, breathing having stopped while your voice wheezes from your lack of air. He makes a croaking noise, wanting to speak up and apologize for what had happened and for not being the person you thought it was, but it seemed that you weren’t over. “AND DON’T GET ME STARTED ON THAT FUCKING KAREN!!! ‘I didn’t like the way you looked at me so I won’t be tipping you tonight!’ yeah, well maybe if you didn’t order enough FOOD TO FEED AN ARMY AND KEPT SENDING IT BACK I WOULDN’T BE LOOKING AT YOU LIKE THAT!!!”

There was a pause, and Kirishima, while feeling entirely sorry for you, finally spoke, “Fuck, that sounds... horrible.”

“Damn right, it was horri— wait, who the fuck is this?” your voice squeaked, and Kirishima almost started to laugh at the difference in the tone your voice took. Once so loud, angry, and entirely ‘fuck the world,’ had changed into a meek and embarrassed voice.

“Um, this is Kirishima. Kirishima Eijiriou?”

“This isn’t Hagakure?” you moaned into the phone. “03-9082-2395? That isn’t this number?”

“2-2-9-5,” Kirishima repeated his own number back, a small smile overcame his features knowing that you had accidentally misdialed a number.

“Fuck my fat fingers,” you cursed, and Kirishima chuckled lightly at the mutterings that were poorly picked up. “Well, um, I am so sorry for calling you and dumping that unnecessary bullshit on you—”

“No, no,” Kirishima interrupted, rolling onto his back, staring up at the dimly lit ceiling. “It’s totally okay! You seem less stressed out now too, and it really isn’t a big deal!”

“You are very kind, Kirishima Eijirou,” you laugh, and Kirishima can’t help but imagine a figure curled up on a couch.

“Thank you!” he beamed, a hand threading through his hair, “um, but what happened with the Karen? And why were you typing in your friend’s phone number?”

“Do you really want to know?” you ask after a fit of bubbling laughter; it seemed that you were not at all convinced.

“I work at a coffee shop for one, so I totally understand the Karen situations! Secondly, all my contacts are on my phone, I don’t have a single one of them memorized!”

“Okay, okay, okay, I do not have this number memorized! Hagakure is my roommate, and she has a new number that she left posted on our fridge and because Mr. Sprinkles left in the middle of my rant, I called her to finish it!” you explain in what Kirishima could only consider being childlike glee. “And a coffee shop? Oof, Kirishima, you might have it just as bad as I do then.”

“Ever had a boiling cup of coffee thrown back at your face?”

“Shut. Up.”

“I wish I was joking!”

“The nastiest thing I’ve ever been put through is a highschool couple breaking up in the middle of the restaurant, and a bowl of cold soup and milkshake were thrown at me! And I had to work for another five hours!”

“That… that beat mine by a long shot…”

“Okay, but like, it was cold. If you hadn’t dodged, you’d be dead!”

As time passed Kirishima soon found himself sitting up on his bed, his back pressed against the headboard, a lamp on so that he wasn’t in the dark while he talked to you. Somehow conversation flowed so perfectly between the two of you, so smoothly, so naturally. You had extremely compelling energy and a pretty bright one at that as well. Your stories were exceedingly extravagant, most derailing into hundreds of side stories before making its way back to the main point, but he didn’t mind. Though there was no proof, he imagined that your arms were swinging around while you talked, a bright smile on your face, and lights shining in your eyes.

“So anyway, I had to beg my professor to let me remake this exam because, for some reason, my brain would not switch back to Japanese. I almost cried because I was only speaking in English, and I think because I am an amazing person, my professor let me do that!” you laughed after explaining an issue with being fluent in a third language.

“My English skills deteriorated after leaving high school, I’m rather jealous you can speak three languages,” Kirishima admitted, his head falling back onto the cold wall. “My Japanese professors probably think my Japanese sucks too.”

“Just because I am amazing and can speak three languages doesn’t mean I’m perfect at it,” you laugh, obviously trying to make him feel better about himself.

“Mm, I don’t know, you’re painting yourself as a pretty perfect person,” Kirishima sighed. “Or you have an enormous ego…”

A loud scoff came from your end of the phone, and Kirishima waited for your verbal retaliation but was met with a moment of silence.

“Oh! Welcome home!” you called out, and Kirishima quickly put together that your roommate Hagakure was home. “Yeah, no, I’m talking to someone right now! ...who? Oh, um, a friend! ...no, I tried to call you when I got home but misdialed your number and got him instead! NO! You’re not going to get a pic of him! Wait, it’s what time?!”

Kirishima’s eyes fell over to his alarm clock and saw in the dim red light that it was 04:57.

His jaw dropped.

“Well, um, Kirishima, it seems that our call is going to end,” you whisper into the phone, and Kirishima lets out a breathless chuckle, sudden sleepiness creeping into him. “It was pretty fun chatting with you stranger, thanks for putting up with that ranting in the beginning! Most normal people wouldn’t have picked up or let me rant like that!”

“It’s no problem,” Kirishima smiled softly, his fingers stretching out to turn off the light. He licked his lips, five hours on a phone call with an absolute stranger, and he didn’t have your name, and better yet, a part of him wanted to ask if it was okay to be friends. You were magnetic to him, and he wanted to know more about you, even if this was this weird modern and accidental penpal thing. “I didn’t have anything to do today, and you were fun talking to!”

“Aww, thank you!”

Silence.

Ask, he thought, his teeth biting down onto his bottom lip. Ask!

“Um, I know this is weird and all, but do you think I can keep your number?” you ask, your voice almost timid and meek.

Kirishima’s heart rate spikes at those words, he very much wanted that, but his mouth had a mind of its own it seemed. “Why?”

“Wha— well, I just had a lot of fun talking with you! It was fun, and I don’t know, you seem like a pretty chill guy!”

His fingers gripped his phone, a warmth spreading through him when he relaxed under his sheets. “On one condition.”

“Oof, if you’re going to ask to decide between Crimson Riot or All Might you’re going to be—”

“No, no,” Kirishima lets out a snort, his shoulders rolling while he imagines the curious look coming over your face. “I would like to know your name?”

“My name? Why would you want— HOLY SHIT! I never gave you—” there was a loud noise on your end of the call, and Kirishima heard you apologize profusely before returning in a hushed whisper. “Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t give you my name?!”

“No,” he laughed loudly, one that was pushed from his belly, spreading warmth through his body. “You never did, but I did learn every name of every person you’ve ever talked with!”

“God,” you groan, a small whine emitted from you. “I’m an idiot, I’m so sorry! Y/l/n y/n at your service!”

Y/l/n y/n, that’s a pretty name, he thought while imagining just what you could look like.

“Well, goodnight y/l/n, I’ll save your number, and we’ll see if you still would like to be friends when you wake up?”

There was a small noise of agreement, “I’m like a drug, Kirishima, you’ll be back for more.”

“Okay, okay, goodnight…”

“Goodnight, sweet dreams!”

“Sweet dreams.”

Kirishima listened to the line ending, and he pulled his phone away from his ear and no sooner did he do that, a text came in at what he believed to be your number:

don’t let the bed bugs bite! 🕷😱‼️

He snorted and replied back before eventually letting sleep consume him.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“You’ll never believe what just happened!” you squealed into the phone, and Kirishima laughed while wiping his sweaty face with a white towel. You had called thirty minutes earlier than usual and had caught him leaving the gym.

It had been a bit over two months since your misdial, and things with you had been going pretty well for strangers. The two of you didn’t talk every day, most weeks going by with just a single call, but they were always delightful talks. You worked most nights, and he most mornings, the two of you discovered. So most calls took place the night he didn’t have to work the following morning.

“You got a customer who complained that there was too much salt in their meal that had no salt in it?” he asked, pulling a random story of something that had happened at his own coffee shop today. You let out an amused snort, a clear indicator that he was wrong, but found his guess to be amusing at the very least.

“No, but oddly enough, someone did ask for an insane amount of salt on their food and hated it!” you sang, clearly happy with how you found their distress to be funny.

“Close enough!” Kirishima laughed, but he was straight out of guesses, so he stopped. “So, what happened?”

“I tried coffee for the first time ever today!” you squealed loudly, and Kirishima cheered happily.

Through these two months, there were some hard facts that Kirishima had learned about you. One, you were living in the same city as him. Two, you worked at a semi-classy restaurant. Three, you had two roommates named Hagakure and Jirou. Four, you were twenty, just like him. And five, you were a child who only drank hot chocolate and tea because you were afraid of coffee.

“Caffeine is a drug you know,” you had snarkily teased him one night when he said he was going to make a cup of coffee. “Nice to know I’m friends with an addict!”

“If drugs were as amazing as coffee, I’d be an addict!”

“You know…” your voice whispered, your voice suddenly taking a guilty approach. “I’ve never actually tried coffee…”

“WHAT?!”

“Wow, look at you, becoming an old woman in front of my own eyes!” Kirishima chuckled, starting his walk back home.

His fingers pushed the headphones to be more secure over his ears, hopeful that there it wouldn’t pick up too heavily on the wind of the outside world.

“To be honest, it wasn’t that good, your taste buds are just tarnished from drinking that bitter crap all day!” you huff and he half imagined you turning your nose up.

“Okay, okay,” Kirishima laughed, a warmth flooding in his chest at the sounds of your muffled laughter. A visible indicator that you were also amused at this. “I hated coffee until I started working at a coffee shop, and that was because I needed to know my shit.”

“Wow, you only got that job while not being a coffee addict?” you tease. “Seems like a fake barista to me.”

“It’s pretty hard to believe, I know,” Kirishima stated his tone one of fake melancholy. “I’m so sorry for deceiving you, and honestly, I am a shit barista.”

“Aww, don’t say that!” you exclaim, and it seems like you’re ready to fight him. “I bet you put all those fancy TikTok baristas to shame!”

“TikTok?” he laughed, his pace speeding up just a bit so he would get home faster. “Wow, I am honored you think that!”

The light conversation continued, nothing too deep or too intense, just chatter about today's shifts and classes. Eventually, Kirishima made it back into his apartment complex, and stumbled into his room, collapsing onto his bed.

“Can I ask something?” you ask suddenly, and Kirishima lets out a small hum.

“Yeah, of course, what’s up?”

“What do you look like?” you asked softly as if you were curled up in bed, seconds from letting sleep consume you. “I haven’t come up with a mental image that I like, and well, I want some hints.”

“I can just send you a picture of me,” Kirishima smiles, his eyes closing. “It would be much easier than me trying to explain to you what I look like.”

“No!” you disagree, and there's a long sigh from your end of the phone. “I’m not ready for that kind of information yet, Kiri. I just… I can’t accept a pic of you without sending one back, and I’m not mentally ready for that yet…”

“Don’t tell me the big fat Gucci bougie you is shy?!” Kirishima exclaimed, humor drowning his words as he referenced you to something you had called yourself one drunken night weeks ago.

“Not shy!” you bemoan, your voice muffling out at the end of it. “I’m more scared you’ll find me ugly and ghost me…”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Kirishima interjected, his voice stable and confident.

“Which part?”

“Both parts.”

“How do you know that? You don’t know what I look like…”

“...call it… Kirishima’s intuition,” Kirishima slowly stated, his eyebrows furrowing. “I find your voice and your personality to be attractive on their own, so I would never ghost you. And of course, appearance isn’t anything; plus, there’s no way you’re not gorgeous.”

He says these words with honest truth, and a part of him fears he overstepped and made you wildly uncomfortable with the amount of silence that is heard from your end of the line. But finally, as Kirishima is ready to apologize to you, a soft exhale is heard.

“You’re a dork,” you whisper, and a soft grin spreads on his own face. “Anyways, I’ll ask questions, you answer them first, and then I’ll do the same.”

“Sounds good!”

“Hair color?”

“Black, but I dye it red.”

“Mm, edgy teenager, I like it, and also knew that because you complained about your stained sheets! Eye color?”

“Red.”

“Oh, am I sensing a theme? How tall are you?”

“I’m… a bit over six feet?”

The list went on, most questions becoming more of a joke than anything else, but he was glad that you were asking these things because now he had an insight on how you looked too. You had told him your eye color, your hair color, how tall you were, and a whole bunch of trivial things he would have never thought to ask about to begin with.

“Okay, last question!” you cheered, happy to have finally included Kirishima into your inside joke that revolved around your eyebrows. “Do you have any distinguishing features?”

“Well, I don’t actually...” Kirishima admitted, his fingers brushing against the scar on his eye, and then it hit him. That was one! “Oh, wait—” CRASH. A loud crashing noise emitted from your side of the call.

“Shit, hold on!” you curse and Kirishima can only remain silent while he hears you yelling in the background, it was too far away for him to quite understand, but it was enough to know that it didn’t sound okay.

Kirishima sat on his side of the call, the phone pressed to his ear while he tried to strip his gross and sweaty shirt from his body. His teeth bit into his lip, his canine pressing into the permanent indent of his lip, an indicator of how anxious he used to be.

“Fuck, Kiri?” your voice suddenly snapped back onto the call, your tone frantic and quick.

“Everything okay?”

“No, Hagakure showed up drunker than… a drunken drunk, I don’t know expressions, ANYWAYS I know tonight is our unofficial official call night, but anyway I can get a rain check?”

There was guilt that swallowed your voice, a pang of guilt that made Kirishima warm a bit because it showed that you valued these calls, just like him.

“Of course, I don’t have class or work Friday morning this time around, so Thursday night?”

“That works perfectly,” you sigh, gratitude. “I owe you, text you later if you don’t fall asleep! Goodnight, sweet dreams, love ya!”

Kirishima couldn’t repeat the whole statement before you hastily hung up, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face the entire time he showered. The shower didn’t take too long, and by the time he emerged from the shower, towel around his neck and his waist, he had a text message.

sero - hey bro!!! i can’t pick up my morning shift tomorrow i know you have tonight to speak w y/n but todoroki and bakugou can’t cover it!

Kirishima sighed, he definitely didn’t have anything tomorrow anyways, he could manage with going in for an extra shift to help a friend.

kirishima - yeah sure what time?

sero - youre a life saver T-T im covering 8 am - 3 pm!!!

Kirishima sent a simple affirmative emoji before finishing up his nightly routine.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Kirishima looked at his apron while he was assembling himself in the backroom. The aroma of roasted coffee beans and pastries was almost pungent in the back, and he was eager to get out of there. As per employee regulations, he was to wear a black apron, a name tag, and something to hold his hair because it was a bit too long, for that, he wore a white bandana around his forehead.

“Wait, where’s my name tag?” Kirishima called out, his eyebrows furrowing when he turned out to Kaminari, who was currently in the back with him.

The blond froze and scratched the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly, “About that…”

So Kirishima was in the front of the store with a shiny silver name tag that read Hanta Sero. Because Kaminari was the best barista they had on hand currently, he was busy teaching Midoriya — their newest hire — around the bar. For now, Todoroki was nowhere to be found, and Kirishima was handling the cash register.

Today was a slow morning, most people had their day off today, so morning coffee rush wasn’t in existence. Sure, there were a few outliers, but it was never chaotic.

The gentle bell of the front door rang, and Kirishima automatically called out.

“Welcome!”

You had walked into the store, your eyebrows furrowed while you prayed that this was the coffee shop your roommates had been raving about. You’d never been here before, but it was the closest coffee shop available that wasn’t something generic and basic like Starbucks. You looked up from your phone at the voice, a thank you automatically being repeated while you neared the register.

You froze when you saw the red hair and the red eyes of the handsome man at the register. A careless thought entered your mind, Kirishima said he had red hair and red eyes… but he said he didn’t work today…

A kind smile sat on his face, his eyes taking you in, waiting for you to approach him.

This couldn’t be him, right?

The last time you had assumed a redhead working in a coffee shop was Kirishima, it had ended embarrassingly.

“Um, hi,” you drawled out, your eyes reading the board to figure out your own order.

Kirishima couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, you were exactly what you had described to him, but he wouldn’t ask until he was sure. He would ask you for your name after collecting your order for either tea or hot chocolate, and if it was you, he’d reveal that he was Kirishima. But he didn’t want to be wrong; he didn’t want to pin any other person as you, after all.

“I’ve never been here before,” you confess, your hand rubbing the back of your head. You were transfixed on the caramel macchiato that was spelled in the prettiest font, though, plus Hagakure promised all their coffee was good.

“Oh, well, welcome! If you need any recommendations or have anything else to order, I can put those through while you look?”

His smile was kind, and you felt blood rush to your face, something you desperately tried to fight off by thinking of anything you didn’t like.

“Oh! I do have two orders, though! There’s going to be one chai tea latte with three pumps of vanilla, and a lavender tea with a splash of oat milk.”

Kirishima nodded his head, “Will this be for here, or to go?”

His voice sounds so similar to Kirishima, you hoped, studying his face. While you answered that it was to go, you saw a distinctive scar on his right eye. Kirishima had said he didn’t have any distinguishing features…

“What are your favorites here?” you ask, your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, your thoughts very evident in your face.

Kirishima couldn’t help but find hope bubbling up in his chest, there was always the possibility that you two lived in the same city-based off the same area code, and with what seemed like an incomplete knowledge in coffee, maybe…

Kirishima rambled off about the different seasonal drinks right now, his recommendations leaning towards the teas and non-coffee things primarily after his general and basic list. You seemed to take every word out of his lip like gospel, agreeing and nodding when appropriate, and his lips stretched into a grin when you bluntly exclaimed your ill knowledge of this all.

“To be honest, I only step into coffee shops to take a cute pic and then leave,” you laugh, pressing your hands against your lips and screaming a bit in your throat.

Kirishima laughed, more confidence blooming through his body over the hope that this was you. It had to be you.

Your eyes then found the nametag on his apron, and like a sinking ship, you read Sero.

Not Kirishima.

“And for you?”

“I’ll have the caramel macchiato,” you decide, a grateful smile on your face while he looks down and writes the orders.

“A name?”

“Penny,” came your automatic response.

You never used your real name in coffee shops.

Kirishima suppressed the way that his mouth wanted to drop into a sad smile, and like two rejected teenagers, the money was exchanged. Before Kirishima could attempt to calm his disappointed soul, you walked out of the shop with the coffees and tea in hand.

“What was that about?” Kaminari asked, his eyes wide. “There was so much flirting and then poof, gone from both sides. Come on, dude, it’s my job to fail at flirting, not yours!”

Kirishima laughed, ignoring the way that his three friends looked at him with concern and curiosity. “Nothing, I just… the customer looked like how y/n described herself to be…”

“Oh… sorry, bro.”

“Nah, it’s all good,” Kirishima waved it off, and without so much as another slap on the back, he went back to work.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“What the hell are you doing?”

Kirishima looked up from his phone, his fingers mid-type pausing only for a millisecond before continuing to text blindly.

“Oh, hey, Bakubro, what’s up?” he cheerfully spoke, ignorant to the controller in the ash blond’s hand.

“It’s your turn, shitty hair, pay fucking attention!” Bakugou barked, tossing the plastic controller into his chest. Kirishima grunted, the feeling of the plastic slamming against his chest was less than ideal, but the smile on his face didn’t waiver while he offered his best friend the controller back.

“It’s all good, you can have another turn, I can handle being out this round!”

“Kiri, that’s six rounds in a row,” Kaminari spoke up, his face in a teasing smirk.

It was then that Kirishima’s face turned approximately the same color as his hair. “I didn’t—”

“Awww, Eijirou has a little crush on y/n!!!” Kaminari sang, resulting in agreeing with noises from Sero and Midoriya. Only Bakugou and Todoroki remained silent.

Kirishima only laughed, he knew he couldn’t deny that fact, but he wouldn’t say it aloud — especially because Bakugou seemed to hate you. It had been now four months since the two of you had ‘meet,’ and while he still had no face to imagine you with, things had taken a slightly flirty route between the two of you.

Calls were much more frequent, nearly all nights the two of you would speak, even if it was just a measly summary of the day and a ‘sweet dreams’ and a ‘goodnight’ and an ‘I love you.’ It always happened nowadays.

Tonight was an exception, of course, because he was out with his friends, and apparently, you were doing the same.

“You can’t be fucking serious?” Bakugou spat, a laugh spluttering from his lips, but it was cold and held no humor. “You caught feelings for a person who’s too much of a fucking coward to reveal a picture of themselves?”

“That’s not fair; besides, it's not about physical appearance!” Kirishima waved him off, pressing send to his text message.

have fun tonight! text me when u get back home if ur able to!

“Just how naive can you be?” Bakugou sneered, his hand taking the phone from Kirishima's side. “Six months of talking every week, texting every day, and this y/n still hasn’t trusted you with a single picture of them? I know you said that she told you how she looked, and all that shit, but let's be real, it’s so easy to lie about how you look like when you don’t have to provide a picture. What y/n say? Big tits? Big ass? Small waist? What about her did she say that made you so fucking insane over her?”

“N-Nothing! We didn’t talk about our body types!” Kirishima’s eyes widened significantly, the once comfortable atmosphere of the room wholly gone while Bakugou’s vermillion eyes seethed silently. “None of that matters! I told you the truth! I like y/n because of her personality, she’s manly, and I like that a lot! It’s not about her appearance, how pessimistic can you get, bro! I promise you, she’s trustworthy!”

“Is she really?”

“What?”

“How can you be in love with someone who you trust entirely, but doesn’t trust you at all? You said that y/n won’t show you a picture of herself because she’s scared you won’t like her? How is that trusting you? How is that fucking fair? To me, that sounds like some fucked up catfishing thing.”

“We talk on the phone, dude,” Kirishima said softly, but those thoughts were invading his mind. Did you not trust him? He knew he wasn’t the best option in the world, and he had accepted that in time and by improving on what he thought he was best at. But did you, after all this time, really not believe him when he claimed nothing would change when he saw you? “Catfishes don’t even do that… besides, the first call was by accident, why would someone—”

“Dunce face, what’s that one fucking idiotic thing you do for fun?” Bakugou snapped at the blond, not even bothering to look at him.

“Well, there’s a lot of things I do that you—” Kaminari laughed awkwardly, his smile tight and awkward.

“Kaminari.”

“I call… random numbers… pretending to have a big issue to see how they react…” he admitted, and Kirishima’s stomach clenched.

“And?” Bakugou snarled.

“I pretend to be a girl…”

“Don’t be stupid, Bakugou, this is more than one time!” Kirishima groaned.

“It's a voice that you can’t attach a face to, who knows if this is a person you can trust! People with voice acting exist in this world, how the hell do you possibly know that they’re not one of them?! Be fucking real, if ‘y/n’ trusted you, if that’s even their name, they wouldn’t be hiding their face from you.”

Kirishima didn’t say anything else, the acid piling in his throat was too much for him to even look at his friend. The night didn’t really recover from that conversation, and Kirishima eventually found himself back home.

He sat at the edge of his bed, his phone in his hands, waiting for a message from you. He couldn’t sleep, and even though he had work tomorrow morning, he found himself wide awake, unable to let sleep consume.

It was three in the morning when you sent a text, his eyes still wide awake, and with shaky fingers, he read the message.

i just got home can you believe that i drank three cups of wine and didnt get tipsy??????? thats on being a raging alcoholic ;D

Kirishima wanted to laugh; on god, he would’ve found this beyond delightful to read because he knew you couldn’t handle your liquor, but that bitter stream of acid destroyed the humor in his thoughts.

Were you really telling the truth? Was this all a lie?

He didn’t text back; instead, his finger pressed the call button, and he held his breath.

“Helloooo?” a voice picked up on the second ring, but it wasn’t your voice. It was a voice he didn’t recognize at all.

‘Voice actors,’ Bakugou’s voice reentered his thoughts, and the phone in his hand nearly dropped.

“Sorry, hello?” the voice he knew as you finally came through, and Kirishima let out a shallow breath, one so small, so mediocrely weak it burned his lungs.

“Do you trust me?” he asked softly, maybe too softly because you asked with a strained laugh for him to repeat his words. “Do you trust me, y/n?”

There was a pause on your end, too long a beat for Kirishima to be comfortable with.

“Of course I trust you, Ei, are you okay?”

“Do you actually trust me, or are you lying?”

“Woah there,” you said a small laugh on your tongue, but there was only confusion in it, not your contagious sound. “Did you drink? It’s a work night, you never do that!”

“Answer the question,” Kirishima spoke with finality, his shoulders tense, tears pushing past his eyes while he struggled to maintain composure.

Prove Bakugou wrong, please, prove Bakugou wrong.

“Of course I do,” you spoke with genuine clarity, but still, Kirishima was rattled, his confidence blown. “What’s going on?”

Did he want to confess to his insecurities? Was it worth it? His breathing became frantic, almost as if he was going insane just thinking about where his thoughts were. But Kirishima was never good at hiding things, no he was as open as a book.

“Why won’t you let me see you… we’ve been friends for six months, and the only thing I know about you is your eye color and your hair color. It’s so insanely generic that I can’t… I can’t do this.”

“What are you trying to say?” you ask, your voice small, almost a whisper of all the energy one could have at this time of night.

“I can’t be friends with someone who doesn’t trust me, who’s using me,” he spoke with perfect clarity that hid away his insecurities about this all. “For all, I know nothing about you is real, that this is all just some ploy to hurt me in the end. Six months and you can’t trust me with a single meet up or even a picture? I just… has this been a game for you, y/n? Or is that even your name.”

The call ended and a single message held on his screen, this call has been dropped, but you didn’t seem to want to call him back.

Kirishima didn’t sleep a wink that night, his words coming back to bite him in the throat each and every time he thought he was close enough to sleep. Insecurities riled up in him, consuming him entirely.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

He tried to call back.

For fourteen straight days, Kirishima attempted to call you back.

Every time he called you, he would always hang up before he could take back his words. But each call, after he had prematurely hung up, he would recant his mean words to the unresponsive phone. He did trust you, he was weak, he was unmanly to assume those things. You could take, however long it took to finally trust him again because he would wait for you no matter what. He apologized again and again until the very last one he broke down into silent tears, a single message of ‘I hope one day you’ll forgive me’ hung weakly on his voice and put his phone away.

It was sixteen days since he had spoken those cruel words to you, and in that time, he didn’t regret finally talking about his ill feelings towards wanting to reveal yourself to him. But he did regret the way it came out; instead of it being a deep and personal conversation, it came out as bitter and one-sided. The two of you were disconnected, and he felt empty.

But he couldn’t focus on it, not today, after all, it was Bakugou’s birthday, and everyone was gathering at the local fancy restaurant to celebrate.

Kirishima dressed up presentable, wearing a navy blue button-up, and dark slacks. He walked towards the entrance of the restaurant where Kaminari, Sero, and Midoriya were eagerly leading the group of them into the building. Typically Kirishima would’ve been with them in terms of spirit, but he felt energyless at the moment.

With the moon high in the sky, Kirishima stilled when Bakugou called out his name.

He stared at his best friend, the ash blond’s lip curled into a sneer while he huffed, “Listen, Kirishima, I’m sorry for what I said that night.”

“What? Oh, no, it’s okay, Bakugou!” Kirishima laughed, his hand slapping to the back of his neck. “You weren’t wrong.”

“I never said I was wrong,” Bakugou grunted, his eyes locked on Kirishima’s while he shoved his hands into his pockets. Kirishima stilled, unsure as to where this would be leading. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. I know that Mina hurt you badly, and you’re too big of an idiot to not see when things arise. Maybe y/n is genuine, but if you aren’t fucking honest with her about your own feelings about how she’s so secretive, it’s not going to work.”

Kirishima smiled softly, a weak shrug moving through him, “I know, thanks, man.”

Bakugou nodded, and without a word, he continued on ahead where Midoriya was yelling at them to hurry up and come so they could be seated.

Kirishima sighed, rolling out his shoulders before following afterward.

Kirishima followed after the hostess, smiling at her gratefully when she sat the group into their own private room and left.

“Bakugou’s paying, right?” Kaminari stage whispered to Midoriya while staring at the prices on the menu.

“Eat shit, dunce face, learn how to save up your fucking money the next time you offer to come to this fucking place!” Bakugou roared, hearing the whisper.

“I’ll be covering the bill,” Todoroki informed with a smirk on his face. Kirishima laughed, looking at the prices and indeed agreeing with Kaminari’s statement. Having a wealthy friend was very convenient at times like this.

“Hi, welcome to Eiko, I’ll be your waitress today!” a voice chirped from the entrance of the room, and Kirishima froze, he recognized that voice and face.

It was the person he had mistaken for you all those months ago.

By the smile on your face, it seemed that you recognized them all too.

“And what is your name,” Sero winked, his eyes captivated by you.

“Oh, haha, sorry, my name is y/n,” you smiled, moving the menus you held in your hand to show the silver nametag on your uniform.

“Oh, like Kirishima’s y/n,” Kaminari laughed, pointing a finger at Kirishima, not at all being as quiet as he probably thought himself to be. But it seemed that he wasn’t the only one who thought that because while Kirishima was staring at your face, embarrassingly taking you in, you followed Kaminari’s finger.

Your sight sat on the redhead in the middle whose name was Kirishima, and you straightened up in what felt like panic.

“You’re Kirishima?” you asked quietly, your finger grasping the menus so tightly, your knuckles turned white. “Kirishima Eijirou.”

“The one and only,” Kaminari voiced for him, his arm thrown over Kirishima’s shoulder while he nodded like a scholar. “And why do you ask?”

“Shut the fuck up, dunce face.” Bakugou hissed.

Kirishima continued to stare at you, a million words running through his head, yet not a single one being translated on his tongue. You were beautiful.

What should he say?

What could he say?

Your lips pursed, and you shook your head, a smile of disbelief spreading across your face, “Unbelievable.”

“Y/n—”

“Be quiet,” you snap, your tone angry, but your eyes beyond hurt. “What can I get you guys to drink?”

Dinner wasn’t exactly a pleasant time, you came in and left faster than anyone could blink, and yet none of their drinks went empty, nor did they really have a problem. Much quicker than Kirishima would’ve liked, they were done and were soon piling out of the restaurant after Kirishima decided to leave a very, very generous tip.

“I’m going to stay until I can speak to y/n,” Kirishima said, waving off his friends who were expecting him to follow. But he couldn’t, not when he felt like the world's biggest ass for what he did to you.

“Good luck,” they all wished him well before eventually leaving, knowing better than to stick around.

So there at the outside bench, Kirishima waited.

Two hours he sat there until you emerged from the front door, your hair was no longer put back, you held your apron in your hand, and your purse on your shoulder.

“Y/n!” he called out, his feet no longer cemented into place; he strode after you.

You didn’t seem to pick up the pace, nor did you slow down. You were focused on your car that sat at the edge of the parking lot, and you ignored his calls.

It wasn’t until his hand touched your shoulder, and he appeared before you did Kirishima freeze again. Angry hot tears slid down your face, your face screwed up, your shoulders stiff.

“What do you want, Kirishima?” you spat, but there was only exhaustion in your voice, nothing bitter, nothing at all what Kirishima deserved from you.

“I want to apologize,” Kirishima whispered, his hands struggling to reach out and wipe your tears away. You were crying because of him, he did this to you. “I was a dick, I was… beyond unmanly to you, and I’m so sorry! I just let Bakugou get into my head, and I’ve never been a secure person because, well, I’m just… fuck, I don’t even know, but all I know is that you didn’t deserve this. And I like you so much, but I didn’t — I don’t know what to do?!”

Your eyes stared up at him, they were bright with tears, wounded beyond anything Kirishima could hope to fix.

“That night, you said if I didn’t trust you, but I did trust you! I’ve always trusted you—” your finger jabbed his chest— “but it was you who didn’t trust me! I get that it’s hard to not have a picture of someone you care about after a long length of time, but we were always fine for a while! It was going to happen, but while I trusted you, I didn’t trust myself, okay?! I couldn’t trust myself to see that if you were so much more handsome than me that I couldn’t be confident enough to let myself be friends with you! I constantly fuck up relationships when I have crushes on people because… I don’t know, I just do! But you were someone with no risk and the highest risk, and I wanted to be sure in my own feelings before giving you a picture of me! But… fuck, Kirishima, you didn’t trust me!”

Kirishima’s throat tightened, the tears on your face a guilty reminder that this was because of him. But how could he fix this?

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his hands grabbing onto your arms just above the elbow, and his head hung by your forehead, not quite touching you, but just enough that his spiked hair teased the atoms between you. You were taller than he expected, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t deal with, no, not at all. “You’re right, I didn’t trust you, and you didn’t deserve that. I don’t think there’s anything that I can say, or do for that matter, to change your mind, and I’m sorry. I just panicked because who gets into this type of situation, how do I tell my phone friend that I have feelings for her? I was weak, and I am so fucking pathetic, and I just want to make things better. If you’ll let me be your friend again…”

He slowly looked back up at you, and you were frozen in your place, tears falling down your face still.

“I don’t think we can be friends,” you confessed, and Kirishima’s heart broke in two, his hands dropping from your arms in his embarrassment and humiliation.

“Oh, well, I’m sorry still, um… maybe I’ll see you again?” Kirishima smiled despite it all, he kept smiling despite the crack in his chest and his soul.

“You will,” you murmured, and before Kirishima could blink, your fists wrapped in his collar, and you brought him down for an ardent kiss that he was not quick to respond to. It took three seconds for him to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you in, kissing you again and again and again.

It didn’t seem to matter to either one of you that you were both now kissing without a care in the world in the middle of a parking lot, because you both had your emotions exposed to the other, and you didn’t want to be friends. At least not when the man who held your heart confessed that you held his in yours.

The two of you weren’t truly disconnected, it was just a little lost moment in your call.

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader

2K notes · View notes