#its now 6 degrees outside daily | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nautiscarader · 4 years

Text

2020 in animation - recap

So, 2020.

Yeah, I have to say I’m not entirely satisfied. Would not recommend, 1 star.

But I would be willing to bump it to 1.5, if only because of one factor: the animation.

Because I have to say, this was the best animated end of the world so far! And if there was something that kept our spirits up, it was the cartoon industry!

Just like last year, I should preface this by saying that this is highly subjective selection. Even when one is confined to their Hobbit holes for better part of the year because of *waves hands* everything around,

day still only has 24 hours, so I have missed a few shows. (I should also apologise for omitting a few major ones last year, like Milo Murphy’s Law S2, Ducktales, or She-Ra. This is why I started keeping a track this year). I’m sure I will catch up with those I missed this year some time in the future, but for now, let’s see what this year has gifted us with.

And right from the start, January opens the race with very interesting propositions. We were still riding on an incredibly high wave from last year, with Infinity Train season 2.

This one focused on Tulip’s mirror, and pushed the season towards a much darker and complex story, diving deep into one’s personal journey and identity. There were tears, math, deer, and cops being murdered. Brutally.

t was followed by two newcomers: The Owl House and first season of Kipo and The Age of the Wonderbeast. Both of them would dominate first half of the year, with The Owl House’s traditional, week-to-week airings, and Kipo's seasons appearing in June and October.

The Owl House, a strong contender in "What will be the Next Gravity Falls?" contest, invited us to a world full of magic, mystery, elongated owl demons and some dark secrets. It has also created a milestone for Disney, introducing an LGBT couple with characters of bisexual Luz Noceda and lesbian Amity Blight. Their Grom dance has risen to the top of my animates scenes, polling very closely to the unforgettable Kataango.

On the other hand, Kipo has taken us to the post-apocalyptic world filled with mutant animals, revealing that despite the end of the world, our old vices and animosities have survived in underground burrows, and we have infected the overworld of giant doggos and suit-wearing frogs with them.

Kipo did not pull any punches regarding commentary about our society, at the same time giving us hope in the form of the main protagonist, who was able to spread friendship and understanding amongst the mutes, as well as the humans that had to survive. And in the world that we have found ourselves in, it was a pretty darn good lesson.

February would bring end to two seasons of airing cartoons, Big Hero Six season 2 and Miraculous season 3, as well as another newcomer that won the hearts of fans: Glitch Techs, with its "second" season arriving in August. And while in my opinion he show wasn't as good as the other two new titles, I am clearly in minority, as the show about Ghostbuters-like team of game console technicians gained huge popularity... though not enough to keep the show afloat. As of writing this, it is currently in limbo, which is a shame, as the second set of 10 episodes finally added some much needed ongoing story.

in March, another show from last year ended - Steven Universe Future. As we have expected, it tackled slightly more mature themes, showing how much Steven needed that therapy we have wished him, telling an important tale of finding one's worth and one's self. its ending might not have been as explosive as those of the original show, or the movie, but it left Steven’s story as open as an open road, and deep in our hearts, we all knew it would look like this.

March was also the time when majority of western world caught the coronavirus, and that caused quite a turmoil with the movie and animation industry. One of the first victim of changed schedule was Disney's Onward, which was released on-line on Disney+ quickly after its theatrical release.

I have mixed feelings towards “Onward”. For such interesting promise, I think it made a few questionable and down right boring turns, though the unorthodox message at the end of it was its strongest point, and it was one I haven’t seen in a while, so it was worth watching just for that.

April was relatively quiet (aside from more end of the world stuff); brought us third season of Ducktales that spread throughout the year, while May gave us final, fifth season of She-Ra and the Princesses of Power.

To my eternal shame, I missed on this show when it premiered, and due to the lockdown, I binge-watched the previous four right in time for powerful and explosive season 5. And even though Catra and Adora finally gave us exactly what we needed, some fans felt slightly unsatisfied, calling for a movie, like the Steven Universe one to be made. And I’d be all for it, the rest of universe needs saving from the Horde! Also, cats in space - hilarious.

May also revealed a new player on the streaming field: HBO Max, who surprised us with new Looney Tunes Cartoons, much more in the spirit of the legendary originals than the often-criticised Looney Tunes Show from 2011-2014. And in my opinion, it did; one could feel the same fluidity in animation, dedication to slapstick, and synchronisation with music than in the very first cartoons with Bugs and Daffy.

HBO Max would, however, return in June with first of series of Adventure Time original movies called "Distant Lands". The first centred around BMO, with second one - Obsidian giving us a glimpse into Bonnibel and Marceline's lives.

Distant Lands allowed people to revisit the odd, odd world of Ooo and learn about its colourful inhabitants, taking turns to seeing their past and the future, an, as usual, showing us that post-apocalyptic world can teach us valuable and meaningful lessons.

Just in time for full lockdown in our burrows, aforementioned Kipo season 2 premiered in June, together with another cartoon movie, this time featuring We Bare Bears. While their movie wasn't anything to write songs about, it was exactly like the show, providing some wholesome content right when we needed it.

And just in case you needed more wholesome adventures, Craig of the Creek's second season ended, and its third season began, reminding us of HOW COOL LIFE WAS WHEN OUTERNET WASN’T SCARY AND WE COULD STILL WALK OUTSIDE FOR FUN AND NOT TO HUNT TOILET PAPER.

Just like last year, July was not dogs' days, but frogs'. Amphibia season 2 started raining on our heads, but unlike last year, its schedule wasn't a daily one, spreading the episodes throughout the Summer and early Autumn, with its second part arriving in February of 2021. There were more roadtrips, more mysteries and MORE MARCY.

August was equally strong: aforementioned Glitch Techs "season 2" premiered, offering better and more plot-heavy episodes than the first ten episodes. Unfortunately, the show's future is unclear; the uneven divide of plot between the seasons probably contributed to the show not being renewed. 10 new episodes apparently are written, but await in sleep mode, until Nickelodeon remembers about it.

HBO MAX picked up Infinity Train for its third season, after being derailed by Cartoon Network. And if you thought that killing a mirror cop was shocking... then this season has pushed the limit of what can be shown in modern children's cartoon to a frightening degree. The schedule was once again, weirder, with first five episodes airing on the day of the premiere, ending with a cliffhanger (literally) that only contributed to the shock factor and made us wait anxiously for its conclusion. It was bold, it was dark, it was memorable.

And just like Glitch Techs, Infinity Train waits on a side track, unsure if it will be picked up, or will it be abandoned and left as a canvas for graffiti artists.

However, to end the Summer, a truly amazing TV movie has arrived on Disney Plus, where we came back to good, old Danville and could witness Candace against the universe. The new Phineas and Ferb movie brought back the glorious memories of this fantastic show, with the same humour, writing, abundance of catchy songs and a surprisingly deep moral.

In September we have seen the start of Big Hero 6 season 3 and a odd change of format. Instead of standalone 22-minute episodes, the show now consists of two 11-minute segments. In opinion of many, this weakened the stories, forcing them to be more comedy-oriented, and shortening the potential emotional drama. Still, it gave us funny, short stories, but they did clash with the two previous season, not to mention the movie.

However, if that wasn't up to your taste, Ducktales season 3 also started airing, and continued its first part up until December with more action- and plot-driven episodes, including the Darkwing Duck crossover, serving as a pilot of the spin-off.

Later in December fans have learned that Season 3 will be its last, which broke the hearts of many duck fans; however, it seems that the season has been written as the last one in mind, and the news of the ending was known to the creators, which gives us hope for a kick-ass finale somewhere in 2021.

Miraculous New York, telling arguably one of the most mature storylines, opened the "Heroez" world to some new characters and new opportunities, with two more specials, taking place in Shanghai and Brazil, meant to air somewhere next year. AND I DO HOPE WE WILL SEE MORE LOCAL FOOD VENDOR SUPERHEROES LIKE HOT DOG DAN.

October was the month of two season 3's: Carmen Sandiego and Kipo. In case of Carmen, as it is usual with Netflix, the "season" was only a half-one, with just a handful standalone episodes, and just a dash of more ongoing plot.

For Kipo, however, season 3 was the end, and what a glorious one it was. Fans were saddened to learn of it, but Kipo was always imagined as a 3-part story, and it showed. The finale proved more than satisfying ending to the plot, elevating Kipo to one of the smartest cartoon characters we should all try to aspire to.

In November, Distant Lands: Obsidian aired, focusing on everyone’s favourite candy/vampire couple, and the long and complicated love between Bonnibel and Marceline. And as usual, it showed us that relationships are not always as straightforward as we would like them to be, but with enough music and teamwork, no enemy is big enough.

For the next new show, I’ve waited with the most amount of excitement and anxiety. Because while I was completely fine with other reboots and re-imaginings to take creative takes, new Animaniacs, (airing on Hulu) had to be perfect and had to be the lightning that struck twice.

And sadly... it wasn’t. It was still good, but some people criticised (incorrectly imho) the amount of political topics, while I mourned almost total cast-ration of additional characters, aside from Pinky and the Brain. This truly weakened the possibilities it could have had. It was still very good, but you can feel that some of the original charm was lost, due to these odd, odd limitations.

December brought us a new original Apple TV movie, Wolfwalkers. A beautifully animated folk tale of friendship and social divides, and how short-sight can cause the collapse of both arguing sides, reminding me very much of the intelligence and heart of original “How to Train Your Dragon”.

We’ve had to wait two years for the return of arguably one of the most wholesome shows out there: Hilda. Second season dived into deeper mysteries that permeate the rich and colourful troll-ridden land, we saw the return of some familiar characters, and introduced a whole new storyline, that ended with a surprising cliffhanger. Still as wholesome, but now with a tiny bit of Police incompetence. Also Twig, lots of Twig.

Just like Onward, Pixar’s highly anticipated Soul aired on Disney+, telling a very mature story about finding one’s purpose in life, what that purpose actually means, and whether it exists at all. Beautifully animated, with fantastic soundtrack, it was a stunning tribute to creativity, and it never dumbed down its profound, open message about following your dream.

And just if you thought that Soul was going to be 2020′s last note (pun very much intended), right before the year ended, DC Super Hero Girls concluded its first season on a rather anti-climactic two-parter. That being said, the season, running from March of last year, was packed with short, bite-sized, funny stories, taking interesting spins on existing comic book characters. For a comic book noob like me, it was perfectly fine, and I can’t wait for the second season next year.

And so, we have reached the series finale of humanity.

2020 ends in just under a day. What will 2021 bring us? I do not know, and if the animated shows of this year have taught me anything, is that the future is an always open book, full of worries and challenges, but also opportunities and possibilities.

...

And in reality I was too lazy to check any news sites about upcoming projects.

#infinity train #glitch techs #amphibia #kipo and the age of wonderbeasts #animaniacs #carmen sandiego #hilda #DuckTales #big hero 6 #distant lands #dc super hero girls #Miraculous Ladybug #spop #The Owl House

279 notes · View notes

hauntedbythefanficsofmypast · 4 years

Text

Roma Marinette pt. 1

Marinette's parents joined a traveling circus a year before Marinette was born. They make all the food that's sold as well as food for their fellow travelers.

Marinette is born in the circus. She is one of three kids. Only one year younger than Dick Grayson, Dickie as she grows up calling him, and five years younger than Johnny Grayson. Dick's nickname for Marinette is Marigold. Marinette takes to the Graysons she and Dick adore each other and all the Graysons love little Mari. With Tom and Sabine's permission they start training her along with Dick. Both kids fast learners with what seems like an ability to completely defy gravity and break its rules.

Dick and Marinette are stuck at the hip learning everything their circus family can teach them. Marinette is the one that decides that they should learn knife throwing and fire spinning. While Dick decides they are going to work out with the strong men and learn how to handle the animals.

While they are still too young to join in on the trapeze they are allowed in the show. Together they wow crowds doing cartwheels, flips, and complicated floor routines together. Once they are 6 they are allowed to fly with the rest of them. Their shows garner more and more attention, everyone wanting to see the two youngest aerialists in the world.

Everything is perfect in their lives, until they go to Gotham for a show. Dick parents begin acting weirdly, hugging Dick more and more, while looking at him in a resigned manner. This causes both to worry a bit but they don't let it show. When Dick sees people messing with the trapeze both of them brush it off. Before the show they meet the young Drake family and take a picture together. Marinette and Dick are on one knee together with Tim sitting on their bent knees.

When the lines snap Marinette and Dick stand on the boards opposite of each other watching in horror as the lines snap. In minutes both are on the ground near the bodies, Dick crying silently holding his mother's bracelet while Marinette holds him tightly crying herself.

Bruce walks up and talks to the two and is slightly surprised to find that Marinette wasn't their daughter. Marinette smiles weakly telling them she was pretty damn close. Bruce comforts Dick before going to talk with the Commissioner and a Social Worker.

Before the end of the night Dick is packing up his stuff and getting ready to leave with the social worker. Bruce never leaves their sides. Marinette stops Dick from leaving and hands him her stuffed tiger named Sikhaya. Dick hugs it tightly before pulling out his elephant Zitka and giving it to her.

Marinette pulls him into a tight hug sniffling into his shoulder.

Mari- Don't you dare forget me Richard Grayson. We'll find each other again someday Dickie. So until then don't you dare forget me.

Dick- I could never forget you Bluejay.

Two months later Marinette and her parents leave the circus and settle down in Paris. It breaks their hearts but after the Grayson's tragedy Tom and Sabine find it the best option.

Dick and Marinette don't see each other for a very long time, but they never forget the other.

Zitka is well loved and taken care of. The stuffed animal has a special place on Marinette's bed even when she is an adult. While Dick takes to putting Sikhaya on a shelf when his brothers come into the mix, not wanting it to be destroyed if they become destructive.

Dick grows up as Bruce's son becoming Robin when he turns nine. At thirteen he joins a team of young superheroes, at fifthteen he leaves behind Robin giving the mantle to his new brother Jason. He also begins dating Barbara. They break up a year later when Dick realizes he is continually comparing Barbara to Marinette. When he becomes seventeen he mourns the loss of his brother and nearly kills the Joker, only stopped by Batman. He takes a year break, taking counseling sessions with a reformed Harley Quinn. During his break he meets Tim Drake once again, he doesn't remember him however. He begins training Tim to find solace in acting as a brother again, he also digs up evidence on why the Drakes are terrible parents. Dick encourages Tim to become Robin, his first night out as Robin is Nightwing's return. When he turns 18 he goes to the police academy, and once he graduates he becomes part time and goes to college for business. He is 20 when Red Hood begins targeting the entire family. Jason was not prepared for how vicious Dick got when he shot Tim. Batman once again stops Dick in his anger, telling him once again that neither of his brothers would want him to kill. Jason uses this time to escape from the family and drops into hiding. He hacks into the Batcave and watches the caves videos and reading reports of what's happened since his death. When Jason finally comes back he is ashamed and is surprised when Dick simply hugs him crying. Things are tense between Bruce and Jason, but a few counseling sessions with Harley and their relationship is slowly rebuilding. Shortly after Damian comes into their lives. Dick is quick to knock Damian down when he attacks Tim. He tells Damian that he doesn't care who his mother is, or that he is Bruce's blood son. He slowly brings Damian into the family. While the boy is still distant and mean to the family they all notice he doesn't mean his insults anymore. When Dick is twenty-two he graduates college with a degree in business. He begins working at Wayne Enterprises as well, he mainly works from home and behind the scenes with Mr. Fox. No one outside the company knows he also works there, the entirety of Gotham believes he is just Officer Grayson.

Marinette grows up in Paris with absent parents. They love her but now that they have their own business they only have time for dinner with Marinette. While she is upset she joins gymnastics and aerial arts classes, quickly rising to the position of top student. She also begins going to regular school during her first day. She is so nervous she keeps tripping. The entire class soon begins to view her as clumsy, something that sticks. Even though Marinette only trips afterwards when someone does it on purpose, they choose to ignore the fact she catches herself quickly. While everyone believes she is just clumsy Marinette no one realizes that she is Paris's national champion in Gymnastics. Marinette is so good that they want her on Paris's Olympic team once she turns 16. When she turns ten she realizes she can sell her designs online. She pulls out all her notebooks pulling out her favorite designs and begins to make them all. Once done she creates a website under the name Marigold. On each outfit she hand stitches Mari in gold thread, for a signature marking. Marinette slowly makes friends outside her classmates, while they are nice they all stand by when Chloe attempts to bully Marinette and she doesn't like that. Especially when she sticks up for a few of them, she remains civil and polite to them although in her eyes she is clearly distant. When she is thirteen she becomes friends with Alya, the two girls slowly growing closer. She also develops a crush on Adrien that Alya blows way out of proportion wanting to help her new bestie. While Marinette likes Alya, Dick still holds the spot of best friend in her heart. Marinette also becomes Ladybug, she struggles at first but her years of training in flying helps her greatly and her aim has not deteriorated since leaving the circus. Marinette begins making less clothes and takes up karate classes as well four days go to gymnastics, two go to aerial arts and one to karate. Her three main instructors make the connection to her being Ladybug after a year, when Ladybug uses an aerial move that only she has ever used in front of them.

Aerial Arts- Madeline Saint Cloud

Gymnastics- Tasha Buchanan

Karate- Abraham Lebanon

Instead of confronting her the three get together and come up with a way to help Marinette. They start by deciding that Chat Noir either needs to get serious or get lost. One month later they all have solid examples of. why Marinette needs to bench him if he doesn't. It's at that time they confront her. Marinette attempts to lie saying that she isn't but stops when Madeline speaks up.

Madeline- My dear bird, you've never liked lying. You've rarely done it, and because of that you are truly terrible at lying

Marinette is dejected and apologizes to Tikki, but the Kwami just smiles telling Marinette that it wasn't the first time a Ladybug's mentor had found out.

Tikki- It's just never been three before!!

Marinette listens to her instructors carefully before telling them that she agrees. She tells them her partner looks through life with rose colored glasses. That while she does find him kind and silly she doesn't have a crush on him. That she doesn't find him as kind, caring, or as funny as Dick. She pauses after saying this, surprised that she hadn't said Adrien. Her instructors watch her as she closes in on herself taking a moment to sort through her thoughts. Once she is done a stray tear falls from her left eye.

Marinette- After all this time my thoughts still drift back to him…Chaton will never measure up to the person I truly love. His insistence and pushing do nothing more than cause stress on our partnership. I will look into having him either replaced or given one last chance.

That night she lays in bed hugging Zitka close to her chest as she stares out her open trap door at the stars. A few minutes go by and Marinette gets out of bed gently setting Zitka down. She walks over pulling the pictures of Adrien down, as well as his schedule tossing them all in the trash. Once done she climbs out onto her rooftop garden Tikki following her and sitting on Marinette's knee once the girl sits down.

Marinette- Adrien...Adrien Im sorry. I took your act of kindness and compared it to the kindness I use to have daily. Instead of seeing you, I saw Dickie. I thought I loved you, but I loved the kindness you showed me, that reminded me so much of him. I don't love you like that Adrien, instead of wanting to be your girlfriend. I just want to be your friend, so from this day on I will try harder to be that.

Two days later Ladybug tells Chat Noir to meet her on the Eiffel Tower that night after patrol. She tells him that she isn't in love with him and that she never will be. She knows she is coming off harsh and she tells him that, then explains that she needs to because after a year he is still acting like this. Chat is clearly saddened, this causes Ladybug to sigh and hug him.

Ladybug- I know it hurts, but you need to come to terms with this Chaton. You are my partner and you're like a brother to me. My heart is already taken, Chaton I have loved him since I was a child. Even if I was to date another right now I would just continue to compare them to my Robin.

Chat agrees to take things more seriously telling her that he still loves her, but he understands. He promises her that he will not let his feelings get in the way anymore. As the months pass the two become closer and closer. When Lila arrives Adrien already knows that she is lying and takes to avoiding her. When he spots Marinette getting put down by Alya and Nino for telling them Lila was lying he is quick to stand up for her. This causes a split among their classmates they don't want to be mean to Adrien, but he is always with Marinette. Lila is constantly telling the class that Marinette is bullying her and they want to do something but Adrien gets in their way. While Adrien and Marinette get closer they both realize one day that their partner in suits and civies is the same person. After them the two are rarely separate from each other. Gabriel finds Marinette very respectable despite Marinette being Roma, which would caused him to turn up his nose at first. He allows Adrien to spend more time with her, giving him permission to attend her gymnastics competitions. She is fifthteen when she becomes the new Guardian. By the time both are sixteen they have been outcast by their class and forced to the back. However they did not allow this to way down on them. Adrien had gained permission to model for Marinette along with their friends Luka and Kagami, and Jagged and Clara, two of Marinette's most famous clientele. Marigold was a very well known designer however no one knew what she looked like. Marinette never stepped out in public so the media didn't know the designer was a high school student. Marinette was also old enough to try for a spot on the Olympic team. She is sent an email the day of her birthday and Tasha laughs at the subtle begging in the email. Marinette is quick to agree and the four friends go out for dinner to celebrate. Only for it to be ruined when Lila shows up with Alya, Rose, and Alix claiming that they stole the table she reserved. Adrien was going to snap until Marinette placed a hand on his arm. She wiped her mouth standing up gracefully. She smiled politely at the four telling them not to worry the table was open now. The four walk away together not acknowledging Lila's glare. Marinette is seventeen when she participates in the Tokyo Olympics Adrien going with both her and Tasha. She uses Kaalki to get her and Adrien back to Paris for Akuma attacks. She loves her entire time in the Olympic Village. Marinette takes the gold for all four events. She is crying as she stands with her teammates four medals around her neck. Returning to Paris had been wonderful, she was greeted by the President and the Mayor and many fans. Adrien teased her relentlessly over the amount of fans she had. Once they returned to school the entire class demanded to know why Marinette never told them. Marinette simply sighs telling them she never kept it a secret. That she'd told them plenty of time she couldn't do something because of training. The class is really upset and they try to get Bustier on their side and the teacher just sighs softly wishing she never agreed with the Principal to teach Lila Rossi. Bustier knew she wasn't the best teacher but that girl destroyed her reputation by turning her class into the worst in the school. They are eighteen when they begin attending college Marinette for fashion and Adrien business. Marinette is nineteen when she and Adrien take down Hawkmoth only to discover Gabriel Agreste underneath. They hand him over to the cops before heading to the Eiffel tower together. Once there Adrien and Marinette de-transform and Adrien breaks down, Marinette pulls him into a tight hug tear of her own falling. Two months later Adrien sold off his father's company and the mansion. Moving into a cosy apartment with Marinette. Adrien takes the last name Dupain-Cheng and the announce it together on their way to the next Olympics when Marinette is twenty-one. She once again takes home all four gold medals, keeping her title for another four years. They graduate college together at twenty-two, and decide its time for the world to meet Marigold. Marinette reveals herself to the world as Marigold, and everyone in the fashion industry is talking about the young women who built her fashion empire before she was even 18. Adrien takes a job in her company head of PR. When they fully introduce themselves they become known as Marinette and Adrien D.C. The world is talking about the D.C. siblings, most of the conversations being around Adrien no longer going by Agreste. Together they travel the world, nothing changing in their lives until they visit Gotham, and Marigold receives an invitation to the Wayne Charity Event.

Marinette's first stop in Gotham is the place where the Graysons fell. Adrien goes with her hugging her gently as she softly cries. The next day she visits their graves alone, saying hello to the cold stone and asking if they remember her. She leaves flowers on the graves and a letter to each of them, including one to Dick.

Marinette- Thank you for all you taught me and encouraged me to learn. I never thought I'd use my flying to save peoples lives when I returned to Paris. Please continue watching over me and Dickie. I'm going to find him, I promise.

She leaves the graves feeling a lighter happy to have visited them once again

When the Charity Event arrived Marinette and Adrien D.C. couldn't wait to leave their mark on Gotham high society. Unknown to both of them that Dick Grayson had become Richard Grayson-Wayne.

@blackmagicforever

@chocolateherringtacofan

@mythogaychic

#maribat #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fandom #miraculous marinette #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #miraculous au #dinette #batfam dick grayson #dick grayson #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #lila salt #circus #class salt #batman #batfamily #BatFam

941 notes · View notes

katytheinspiredworkaholic · 3 years

Text

Correspondence, Chapter 03

Pairing: HotchReid

Summary: An AU where Reid never joined the FBI, but got roped into consulting for the LA field office while working and teaching at Caltech. Hotch gets his email referred from a fellow agent, and they start to work on cases together -- until they start talking on a regular basis. Regular becomes frequent, frequent becomes constant. They know nothing about each other, but they don't really mind.

Rating: Mature/Explicit (eventually)

Chapter CW/notes: Mentions of alcohol, a very long conversation happens where Hotch is a little buzzed. Big, BIG focus on their age difference, and unintentional misinformation. Spencer has no idea Hotch thinks he’s older, or at least not OLD older, and gets a little panicky/clams up -- and yes I realize Hotch could just background check him and find it out but he respects the man enough to not do that. The chapter is linear, it just encompasses a lot of time passing so hopefully that’s not too confusing. Set in season 6, self beta’d.

Word Count: 5025

Masterpost Link

Ao3 Link

Chapter 03

Early September 2010

And so, it begins.

The dynamic shift, the vast change in how Hotch and Dr. Reid had been corresponding for the past few months. Evolving from something so professional and academic to something… looser. More freeing. More room for error, of course, but the risk turns out to be more than worth it for what they gain.

The texts are sporadic, at first. Short interactions, here and there, all stemming from that first, longer conversation about Jack. Hotch follows up the very next day, after he gets to talk to his son in the morning over pancakes. Jessica hovering nearby the whole time. She had apologized for her harsh words, and commended him after the fact how he’d approached Jack on the subject and led the little boy into a conversation rather than a lecture like his teachers had done. Because, as Spencer had mentioned -- there was no need for one. Jack already had the situation handled.

[]6/4, 12:39[] You were right.

[]6/4, 12:39[] He invited the kid that was bullying him over for a playdate. Trying to win him over by killing him with kindness.

[]6/4, 12:43[] My kind of kid.

[]6/4, 12:44[] You’ve taught him well, Hotch.

And that was it. That was all it took to kick off what turns into a frequent occurrence. Slowly, as time passes, their quick texts turn to conversations that naturally revert to work. It’s where they spend most of their time, after all, and what they had bonded over in the first place. But unlike in their emails, it isn’t just about the cases or profiles or statistics required to crack them. It’s much more opinionated than that, erratic in it’s content and frequency. Commentary on Hotch’s team, ideas on the cases they work, case studies and research projects and sometimes even just office gossip that somehow always makes its way to Hotch’s attention despite everyone trying to keep it from doing so.

Or just Dr. Reid observing their antics. This is the beginning of the tonal shift, and Hotch can’t help but think… it just might be a welcome one.

[]6/12, 10:03[] Your tech analyst always sends me rainbow font emails.

[]6/12, 10:07[] Yes, she’s doing that with everyone on the team. It’s Pride month and she’s being supportive.

[]6/12, 10:11[] She considers me a part of the team? How sweet of her.

[]6/12, 10:12[] You are, and as far as the bureau goes you might as well be.

[]6/12, 10:13[] I doubt I could sneak you into payroll, though.

[]6/12, 10:21[] I bet Ms. Garcia could.

[]6/12, 10:28[] Don’t. Say. Anything.

[]6/12, 10:29[] But yes, she could.

It turns into a small reprieve, for Hotch, in the constant deluge of bureaucracy and violence that fills his work day. The single moment he allows a sliver of himself to appear through the cracks of his armor he has to wear to guard himself from it all. To be the stoic leader the team needs, the unmovable tree in the storm.

Only in his quick, typed under the table conversations he has with Spencer does he allow himself the slips of humor. Barely there traces of a smile. Finding the smallest spots of light in his dark days, in his work that can surround and consume to the point of suffocation. Hotch thrives in it, he always has -- while others have drowned. But he doesn’t mind finding this small self-indulgence. Making the decision for himself that he can joke and poke fun at his work and not feel guilty about it. That, for once, he can allow himself this.

Until one day, Spencer returns the favor -- and starts talking about his own work.

[]7/21, 16:17[] If I leave all of my Ph.D. applicants in a ditch in the desert, is that still murder?

[]7/21, 16:30[] Technically or hypothetically?

[]7/21, 16:34[] Different question, would you be my legal council if I snap and it happens anyway?

[]7/21, 16:37[] Of course.

[]7/21, 16:38[] But as your attorney, I have to advise you that we never had this conversation, and murder is wrong.

[]7/21, 16:40[] Hypothetically.

Spencer takes a little longer to open up, but when he does it is through this window into an academic world Hotch had never planned or thought he would ever be privy to. He begins to reveal pieces of it, bit by bit, until Hotch starts to form a picture in his mind of what shape this professor’s life really takes. Making deductions based on his speech patterns, what goes on throughout his day, his word choices, and profiling the man through text message without even meaning to.

He tries to put a stop to it as soon as he realizes this. Dr. Reid isn’t just a consultant anymore, he is his friend -- and Hotch will always do his utmost to not profile his friends. But it’s a little too late for some aspects that can’t help but stand out as time goes on. Such as the inkling that the other man probably isn’t senile with a cane and a stooped back, like Hotch had first thought. Certain parts of his day allude to someone who is a bit fresher to the academic scene -- instead of spending decades on a college campus.

But Hotch sets that aside, to be scrutinized at a later date, and instead turns his focus into enjoying what Spencer has to offer him. As his friend. The stories he shares freely, now that they’ve spent all this time breaking down the barriers. He regales Hotch with his own daily problems, grievances, as well as the little bright spots that he just wants to share with Hotch so that it can lighten up his own days. Which were much more bleak, and crowded with danger and horrid things.

Hotch lives for those messages.

[]7/28, 20:42[] So I have a godson.

[]7/28, 20:44[] He’s four, and he just came to visit last week with his mother. Have you and Jack ever done science experiments at home?

[]7/28, 20:46[] Because I have some that are definite crowd pleasers. Do them right, you can call them ‘physics magic’. I can send you the instructions, it’s well worth it.

[]7/28, 20:47[] I’m not sure how helpful I would be in a scientific area, but I’m always willing to try.

[]7/28, 20:49[] I’d require video evidence of it, then.

[]7/28, 20:50[] But they are so fun, I’d forgotten how much.

[]7/28, 20:51[] No children of your own?

[]7/28, 20:54[] Never found the right person, but I always spent so much time on my degrees that I hadn’t really thought about being a parent.

[]7/28, 20:55[] My Godson really brought it to light, though. I love having him here.

[]7/28, 20:56[] I bet he loves when you come around, or when they get to visit you, too.

[]7/28, 20:59[] I work in a science lab, with lasers and telescopes bigger than my first apartment. My approval rating is pretty high when it comes to my godson.

Although Hotch finds that he doesn’t always start these interactions, the ones that lead to topics outside of work, he also isn’t against them in the slightest. They begin to start messaging at all hours, because of this; first thing in the morning, during their lunch break, whenever something pops up -- what used to be jokes that would just be kept to themselves, turn to conversation starters. And that development shifts the dynamic even more.

[]8/11, 10:31[] Coffee shops always make me feel old, and like I’m a grad student all over again.

[]8/11, 10:38[] You don’t have a T.A. to run and get you coffee?

[]8/11, 10:41[] Of course you would send out for coffee.

[]8/11, 10:42[] Well my order is two steps, not sixteen.

[]8/11, 10:43[] Tyrant.

[]8/11, 10:43[] Pretentious.

They start to tease, banter, and poke fun at each other. Comradery, friendship, and the more it goes on the more it seems to spiral towards something else. Something new.

But it’s these small moments, messages, conversations that can last a minute or an hour, that make Hotch’s chest feel so much lighter as the weeks go by. Hints of a smile easing onto his face, smoothing out and softening the edges in a way they haven’t in a long time. Garnering some attention from the rest of the team, or whoever is in the vicinity that felt brave enough to mention it.

“Who are you talking to?”

“Who’s the lucky lady?”

“No one,” Hotch would answer, schooling himself and pocketing his phone. “Just a consultant on a case.”

This is how it goes… for months.

They never speak on the phone. Never even hint at video calls. Never send pictures. (Although Spencer does make a mention once or twice about that promised video when Hotch finally gets around to attempting the ‘physics magic’ experiment he’d emailed him. Hotch secretly hopes that maybe, one day, Spencer will just get to show them in person. Instead of Hotch having to record it for anyone to witness.)

But they talk like clockwork. Play chess on the regular, allowing them to talk more fluently with a laptop to aid the flow of conversation. It starts with once a week, then twice a week, standing dates after hours that meld so seamlessly with their messages every workday. They keep it to the weekdays, at first, since Hotch is busy with Jack on the weekends. But that doesn’t last long. Suddenly, without warning -- it becomes every night as well. That shift is such an organic, natural progression, that it slips in without either of them making comment on it. A silent agreement, because mentioning it would mean admitting why they were pushing this in such a new direction.

They just… missed talking to each other. Two days was too long.

Now, it’s every day.

They text for hours; check in on each other at random throughout the day even when Hotch is on cases or Spencer is busy with his duties as the leading doctoral expert of Caltech. Times when they should be swamped, unavailable to anything other than their primary focus and work load, still littered with short messages. Before and after each flight, when Hotch gets back to his hotel at night, when Spencer has to lecture out of town and they just so happen to be passing each other during travel -- mere states away. So close, yet so far. It’s all the time, it’s constant, and it’s wonderful.

Spencer still helps with cases. Often, even more often than he ever helped the L.A. field office. But it’s not always through email, anymore. Sometimes it’s just easier for Hotch to shoot him a quick text. A detailed message in the middle of their everyday banter and dribble but no less out of place, knowing the good Doctor will answer him quickly. Time is of the essence when they are on a case, but they are always on retainer for each other. Waiting in the wings, ready to jump in with quick, snappy wit and bitten-back smiles, and Hotch feels so good. So light. Better than he has in years.

Happy.

Hotch is happy, finding a friend in Dr. Spencer Reid, even if sometimes that friendship seems to transcend layers he didn’t know were there. Developing into something else, something he hadn’t touched in a long, long time.

Months pass. Months. Like a blur. Like they’ve only just started this thing that’s anticipatory and comfortable and flexible in its medium and that is so easy -- everything Hotch needs in his life -- that he can barely imagine what his days and nights were like before this. Before Spencer.

But it’s months into this correspondence, this charged and bright thing, that he’s home late one night with a Scotch in one hand and a losing game of online chess long forgotten on his laptop screen. Lost in messaging Spencer, back to his phone instead of the chat feature of the chess game. Because texting is their comfort zone, now. He never thought it would be, had seen teenagers and adults attached to their phones like a lifeline and used to scoff about it, but he finally has begun to understand.

Because here he is -- not even looking up when he takes a drink -- lost in his conversation with Spencer. Making each other laugh, in a way he hasn’t in so long. Loud and high and afraid he might wake Jack down the hall so he stifles it with another sip of his Scotch.

[]9/8, 21:12[] If Jack wakes up, you know that’s it for us. He’ll never go back to sleep.

[]9/8, 21:13[] Then stop laughing so loud. I honestly can’t imagine you laughing enough to wake him.

[]9/8, 21:14[] Usually I don’t. I never laugh like this, but I used to.

[]9/8, 21:16[] Mr. FBI isn’t allowed to laugh, I thought. Didn’t they beat that out of you at the academy?

[]9/8, 21:19[] I was able to retain a smidgen of humor, it’s well hidden. You just seem to bring it out more than others.

[]9/8, 21:20[] I’m flattered.

[]9/8, 21:20[] You should be.

[]9/8, 21:21[] If my team saw me crack a smile I’d probably be forced to get a CAT scan.

[]9/8, 21:23[] Do you need one? I have an M.A. in Cognitive Sciences, I’ll be your second opinion.

[]9/8, 21:24[] Probably, but I’ll live.

[]9/8, 21:25[] Very stiff upper lip of you. They teach you that at the academy, too?

[]9/8, 21:26[] No, that would be Scotland Yard. I liaised there for a while.

[]9/8, 21:28[] Wow, you get around. Have you been anywhere else on your global exploration?

[]9/8, 21:31[] Hardly that, I just go where the bureau tells me. I’ve already been bounced all over the country before landing at the BAU. All you can do is keep the ‘stiff upper lip’ and adapt.

[]9/8, 21:31[] “Keep Calm & Carry On”?

[]9/8, 21:33[] Garcia gave me that on a mug last Christmas. I still don’t know what it’s from.

[]9/8, 21:34[] Your age is showing. Get with the times, old man.

[]9/8, 21:35[] You’re one to talk.

[]9/8, 21:35[] What?

Hotch bites back a smile, thinking about how for months he had been so sure Spencer was this elderly professor in his 60’s or 70’s that just happened to find their conversations interesting. That was… very apparently wrong, Hotch can see that now, but he hadn’t had any evidence to the contrary for the entire time they corresponded those first few months.

He could have done a background check on the professor at any time, is sure Garcia already has one saved in a file ready to send him at his first request, but it’s more fun this way. The not knowing, the learning about each other piece by careful piece. Even the smallest bits of information, such as age.

He bet Spencer would get a kick out of his first impression of the man, though.

[]9/8, 21:37[] Oh come on, you know.

[]9/8, 21:39[] No, I actually don’t. Congratulations, you’ve stumped the super genius.

[]9/8, 21:39[] But really, what do you mean?

[]9/8, 21:42[] I always just assumed you are at least ten years my senior, maybe even fifteen. How are you more with the times than I am?

[]9/8, 21:43[] I work at a University. I am surrounded by hormones and the dribble of youth.

There’s a slightly lengthy pause after that exchange, enough Hotch starts to pay closer attention through the buzz of liquor settled over his skin pleasantly.

[]9/8, 21:49[] How old do you think I am?

[]9/8, 21:50[] I don’t know, is it rude if I answer?

Hotch is not laughing to himself, he promises.

[]9/8, 21:52[] Why do you think I’m older?

[]9/8, 21:53[] This feels like a trap.

[]9/8, 21:53[] It’s not.

[]9/8, 21:56[] Well, honestly just from your academic achievements. Not everyone has that kind of time. And all your departments you run, you have to have a pretty level head and knack for maturity to keep that all in order. Especially doctorate students.

[]9/8, 21:58[] Thank you, I think.

[]9/8, 22:00[] I bet you’re the coolest old man on campus, though, don’t get me wrong.

Hotch does outright laugh after he sends that, manages to keep it a little bit quieter, and commends himself on having the upperhand in the conversation for once as he stares at his phone for a few minutes, awaiting an answer.

If he had to guess, Hotch supposes he’s held on to that stubborn image of Spencer being a stooped old professor out of habit. But the more the two have talked, after he'd gotten to know the man and his written verbal expressions and just the way his life runs day to day, it’s pretty easy to see that that is not correct. Spencer could be someone around Dave or Jason’s age, but more likely even younger than that -- closer to his own.

And that… is an intriguing thought that sparks something in his chest. He smothers it with another sip of Scotch and realizes that it has been a solid five minutes of silence. With Spencer not even typing out a response.

[]9/8, 22:06[] Was it something I said?

[]9/8, 22:07[] No, I’m just… contemplating my answer.

[]9/8, 22:07[] Answer to what?

Hotch hasn’t drank that much, but he doesn’t believe he asked a question at all. He scrolls back through their conversation and doesn’t see one. Spencer has asked a good handful, though, all about Hotch’s perception of his age.

Interesting.

[]9/8, 22:09[] Respond, not answer.

[]9/8, 22:10[] I’m all turned around now.

[]9/8, 22:12[] Flustered in your old age? Now I’m flattered.

This is almost like flirting. Skirts the edges of it, and Hotch feels more emboldened to try the more Spencer tap-dances around what is obviously Hotch’s incorrect assumption of his age. He had had no idea Hotch thought he was older, that is apparent, and it’s throwing the other man for a loop for some reason Hotch can’t ascertain.

[]9/8, 22:15[] I’m not old.

[]9/8, 22:15[] I’m not even older than you.

[]9/8, 22:16[] And how do you know that?

[]9/8, 22:17[] Just trust me on this.

[]9/8, 22:17[] Well, how old are you?

Another long, lengthy pause that Hotch waits for with baited breath. He knows that Spencer is there, that he’s staring at his phone and trying to decide the best way to answer without really answering anything. It’s only a matter of minutes, but that is a long time for them. When they are deep in a conversation like this.

Hotch isn’t laughing to himself anymore, but he’s more pleasantly confused than worried. He really has no idea what is making Spencer so hesitant.

[]9/8, 22:22[] Spencer?

[]9/8, 22:25[] I’m not going to tell you.

[]9/8, 22:26[] What, you want me to guess?

[]9/8, 22:28[] You’ll never guess.

[]9/8, 22:29[] That sounds like a challenge. How many guesses do I have?

[]9/8, 22:31[] None. Listen, I don’t want you to know. I shouldn’t have said anything.

[]9/8, 22:33[] I’m afraid it’s going to change your perception of me, and we’ll stop talking like this.

[]9/8, 22:34[] Just keep imagining me with wrinkles and a cane, I’m okay with that.

That drops the small smile right off his face.

Hotch is… surprised by this turn of events. What could be so shocking about this that Spencer thinks they would stop talking to each other? They’re corresponding every night. How could he possibly stop on a dime like that?

It doesn’t make any sense. And that’s not the alcohol talking.

[]9/8, 22:37[] I honestly don’t see how that would be possible.

[]9/8, 22:39[] I’m not going to stop talking to you just because you aren’t the senior professor I imagined running Caltech with an Iron Fist.

[]9/8, 22:40[] Now you’re projecting.

[]9/8, 22:40[] You saying I’m too strict?

[]9/8, 22:41[] Tyrant, I think was the term I chose.

[]9/8, 22:42[] Pretentious.

[]9/8, 22:44[] But Spencer, unless you are somehow underage with five Ph.D.’s, there’s no reason for us to stop talking.

[]9/8, 22:47[] You would not believe how many people treat me like I'm underage, to this day. So that doesn’t inspire confidence.

Hotch pauses with his glass halfway back to his lips, only a few sips left in the glass. Staring at his phone and struggling to make sense of what Spencer is saying. Hotch had been trying to joke and tease with him, but now the word ‘underage’ feels like a glaring beacon of a word on his screen.

He’s very suddenly more than a little nervous, even through the haze of alcohol. He is 45 years old, no matter what he keeps telling Spencer -- there is a limit to this being appropriate or not. What that limit is, he’d have to consider when he’s more sober, and it makes him feel like he should be reigning in the flirtatious notes that keep worming their way into the conversation.

But it’s not actually possible for him to be that young, and everything he’s learned about the man indicates he’s closer to his own age. Was he in his 30’s? Even that felt too young for what Hotch had (subconsciously) profiled -- no, it has to be something else.

No matter what, he didn’t want to keep getting Spencer worked up like this about it. His age hadn’t bothered Hotch before that night, so maybe if he drops it they can revert back to how they’d been spending their late evening hours before this turn in the conversation.

[]9/8, 22:50[] But I’m NOT underage.

[]9/8, 22:51[] If that needed to be said.

[]9/8, 22:53[] Can you buy alcohol by yourself?

[]9/8, 22:54[] Yes.

[]9/8, 22:54[] See this is what I was afraid of.

[]9/8, 22:55[] Relax, I was trying to tease you.

[]9/8, 22:57[] You don’t have to tell me, Spencer. I’ll just keep picturing Sean Connery, or John Steinbeck in the later years.

[]9/8, 22:59[] I see you have a type.

[]9/8, 23:00[] Well, who do you picture when you think of me?

[]9/8, 23:01[] Hugo Weaving, Matrix era. Or Richard Feynman.

[]9/8, 23:02[] Well now I feel typecasted. Who’s Feynman?

[]9/8, 23:02[] An American Theoretical Physicist from the 40’s-60’s.

[]9/8, 23:03[] Ouch. How old do you think *I* am?

[]9/8, 23:04[] I’m afraid to answer that.

[]9/8, 23:04[] O.u.c.h.

[]9/8, 23:06[] You’ve been borderline flirting with me, and you just said you thought I was in my 60’s! What was I supposed to think?

[]9/8, 23:07[] If you’re looking in that age bracket, I’m sure I can get you the Biology Department Head’s number.

[]9/8, 23:07[] He’s 72 with rheumatoid arthritis.

[]9/8, 23:08[] You are hysterical. So funny.

Hotch is smiling wide down at his phone again, feeling lighter and glad he got them back on track.

But…

He can’t help but think back to what he just tried to drop entirely. Blame the Scotch, or whatever drive to know that makes him dig down and root out information in cold cases in his spare time, Hotch doesn’t think he can let it go. Not when it was something Spencer hadn’t meant to be a secret in the first place. Not when, knowing that it has created misinformation between them unintentionally, results in Spencer shying away and hesitant to tell Hotch anything more about himself.

Not when he’d said ‘flirting’, because that had been what Hotch was doing, and he can’t even describe how disappointing it would be to quit while he was ahead. When the build up has been so gradual and easy and everything he’d been looking for and could never seem to find.

Now, this slight disruption is sticking in his mind, sharp like a thorn in his side. Always there, making itself known, and he wonders if he is lucid enough to try and draw the information out of Spencer via interview tactics -- or if the brilliant man would see right through any of his attempts.

Probably. Who was he kidding? Spencer had more degrees and college hours under his belt than Hotch could manage in a lifetime. Best to do this the old fashioned way, then.

[]9/8, 23:10[] 38.

[]9/8, 23:11[] Oh. Really? That’s kind of young to be Unit Chief, congratulations.

[]9/8, 23:11[] No, not me. You. I’m guessing 38.

[]9/8, 23:12[] Oh.

[]9/8, 23:12[] Incorrect.

[]9/8, 23:13[] I don’t even get a hint?

[]9/8, 23:13[] Nope.

[]9/8, 23:15[] We’re not playing a game. I’m not telling you.

[]9/8, 23:15[] So you won’t guess my age, either?

[]9/18, 23:17[] Chicken.

[]9/8, 23:17[] 45.

Hotch near throws his phone across the room. Almost makes a quip about how reading his file is cheating -- but he knows Spencer just made a stupidly accurate ‘educated guess’ because he knows fucking everything.

They really should just put him on the payroll. Hotch is being selfish keeping the man all to himself.

But God, is he enjoying it, too.

[]9/8, 23:19[] There’s no way you profiled that with that kind of accuracy.

[]9/8, 23:20[] How do you do that?

[]9/8, 23:21[] Black magic.

[]9/8, 23:22[] I’ll get it out of you one day, I swear.

[]9/8, 23:23[] And as a man of your word, I believe that you truly believe that.

[]9/8, 23:23[] Full of jokes tonight, aren’t you?

[]9/8, 23:25[] I live to amuse.

[]9/8, 23:25[] And make you smile.

[]9/8, 23:27[] You are one of the few that do.

With a careful pause, nothing left in his glass, a thought perched on the edges of his mind that is already watery with cognitive dissonance, Hotch starts typing before he’s even fully made the decision.

[]9/8, 23:30[] You really think my flirting is borderline? I was going for subtlety, but I must be rusty.

[]9/8, 23:32[] Actually, I just thought I was projecting.

[]9/8, 23:23[] You were married, I didn’t want to presume.

Oh.

The consideration is touching, and sobering even in the dimness of his home office, but it draws the softest of smiles back to Hotch’s face when he begins to type out his answer.

[]9/8, 23:35[] Thank you, for thinking of me first.

[]9/8, 23:37[] But Haley and I separated a long time before she died. We were actually divorced before she went into WICSEC. I miss her every day. But I did try to date for a while, before that.

[]9/8, 23:39[] No luck? I would have thought the FBI badge would at least garner some interest.

[]9/8, 23:40[] I’ve been told I’m intimidating.

[]9/8, 23:41[] I don’t think you are.

[]9/8, 23:42[] You will if you ever meet me. I’ve made underlings cry before without speaking a word.

[]9/8, 23:44[] The Hotchner stare. Have you coined that?

[]9/8, 23:45[] I should. It’s got a ring to it.

They banter and causally slip a few more… flirtatious comments in, and Hotch realizes it really isn’t that much different than before. That he had indeed been flirting with the man long before he knew his age. Which was odd, he didn’t typically go for older men and women. But now that he’s aware Spencer is younger than he thought, possibly even his own age (he swears he is, would put money on it if he could), somehow there’s more of a charge in their correspondence, a warmth and buzzing elation that has nothing to do with his Scotch. Especially now that it’s long gone.

It’s all Spencer, and how they compliment each other, and Hotch finds himself near giddy with that information.

He tries, towards the end of the night where it tips over into the early hours of the morning, to imagine an image of Spencer again -- and finds that he doesn’t even care to. He’s enamored with the man and his wit and the way he makes Hotch laugh without trying. How he looks, his age, it doesn’t matter. Not really. Not to Hotch.

But he is still curious why Spencer won’t reveal it. He can’t be that young.

[]9/9, 00:43[] You really won’t tell me?

[]9/9, 00:45[] Maybe one day. When I’m feeling brave.

[]9/9, 00:46[] Well, I’ll be there. Waiting.

[]9/9, 00:46[] 32.

[]9/9, 00:47[] You’ll never guess.

[]9/9, 00:48[] There’s only so many numbers.

[]9/9, 00:50[] Goodnight, Hotch.

[9/9, 00:51] Goodnight, Spencer.

(tbc...)

Tagged List: @spencehotchner @ssa-sarahsunshine @gothamapologist @reidology @marsjareau @dragon-snaps-fandom @emmyraebird @just-an-emo-rat @aaron-hotchner187 @dk18077 @more-heid-pls @fakin-it-til-i-make-it @merpancake

#I've read and rewritten this chapter so many times I'm starting to hate it #but it's super important so I hope it lives up to expectations #we get to all the good stuff after this #but the development here is something I've spent WEEKS trying to make realistic so #I hope you all enjoy it <3 #Chapter updates are Saturdays at 5pm EST #if you want in on the tag list just message me <3 #HotchReid #Heid #katyswriting

55 notes · View notes

rpgsandbox · 4 years

Link

Mock up of the book. Cover design not finalized.

Coyote and Crow is a tabletop role playing game set in an alternate future of the Americas where colonization never occurred. Instead, advanced civilizations arose over hundreds of years after a massive climate disaster changed the history of the planet. You'll play as adventurers starting out in the city of Cahokia, a bustling, diverse metropolis along the Mississippi River. It's a world of science and spirituality where the future of technology and legends of the past will collide.

The game is created and led by a team of Native Americans representing more than a dozen tribes and we've built a game that both Natives and non-Natives will thrill to explore and build upon.

More than 700 years ago, a bright purple streak shot across the night sky. Over the coming weeks, the Earth fell into a deep winter, the seas raged and ash rained from the sky. The event became known as the Awis. As resources dwindled, winter became longer and summer shorter, people struggled to survive. Wars erupted, people starved, some fleeing their ancestral homes before creeping ice sheets.

But people survived. Tribes adapted. And in the wake, people began to notice a strange purple mark appearing on people, plants and animals alike. It became known as the Adahnehdi, the Gift, and many took it as a sign that the Great Spirit had not given up on them.

Eventually, the weather began to ease, the Earth began to heal, and new nations arose. New sciences and technologies, born out of necessity, led to a discovery about the Adahnehdi. It wasn't just a mark, it was a path to abilities and powers, beyond normal human limits.

The long walk home. Art by Jennifer Lange

Now, 700 years after the world was brought to the brink, a new chapter has begun. Your characters enter a world that is healing but is no less dangerous. The ice sheets are retreating and the seas are calming, but what lay out beyond your borders? The treaties and alliances that made so much sense during the long winters are now eroding and old grudges between nations are not so easily forgotten. New technologies arise almost every day and the rate of change is frightening for some. And then there are the stories. Talk of spirits, monsters, beings of legend. For so many they were just tales to be told around the fire. But now there is talk that these legends may be far more literal than you may have previously believed. Has something awakened them?

the northern continent of Makasing.

Coyote and Crow is an original role playing system built around the exclusive use of D12 dice. Outside of the core rule book, all you'll need to play the game is some pencil and paper and some twelve-sided dice. While there is some complexity to the game, we are striving to present a system that will allow players to refer to the rule book during play as little as possible, keeping most or all of the critical information on your character sheet.

Mock up of the front of a character sheet. Design not finalized.

The basic rule system is centered around collecting a Dice Pool, usually around 5-7 D12s and rolling them to determine either Success or Failure and degree of effect. For example "8" might be the number your Character needs to attempt to do something and every 8 or higher they rolled would be a Success. The more 8's, the more successful they are.

While combat is a part of Coyote and Crow, the game is actually built around the idea of fighting being only one road to story resolution. The game encourages dialogue, building bridges and finding unique solutions to problems that are not always clearly defined by good and evil.

Your Characters have Stats like Strength and Spirit and Skills like Investigation and Charm that are modified by their Stats. In addition, when you create your Character, you choose a Path. That Path determines both certain Stat bonuses you receive as well as which Abilities you have access to. Abilities are powers beyond normal human capability, but not at a level where characters would be comparable to superheroes. There are 15 Paths in the core rule book available. In addition, you'll choose an Archetype (Whisperer, Healer, Scout, among others) that will give you Stat and Skill bonuses and a general idea of your character's profession, but will not force your Character too deeply down a specific progression.

Then you'll choose Gifts and Burdens. These allow you to give your Characters specific bonuses or drawbacks and will help you flesh them out in a way that is flavorful and realistic. It's important to note that the rulebook does not dictate whether something is a burden or a gift for a Player. For example, a Player might choose to give their Character a sister. That might be a Burden or a Gift (or both!) depending on how the Player wants their Character to see that relationship.

Sample pages from the equipment chapter. Layouts and content not finalized.

There are no experience points in Coyote and Crow. Instead, it is built on the Legends system. Your Character will have Short Term Goals, which will increase various numbers on your Character sheets or give them new Skills. But you and your group will also have Long Term Goals. When those are completed your legend will grow. You'll write a short story about your adventures, the kind that can be told around the fire for generations to come. These can change your Gifts and Burdens, give you access to new Abilities and more. As you complete more Long Term Goals, your Character's legend will precede them and your stories will spread.

ARCHETYPES

There are six Archetypes in the game, each acting as a starting point for Character development but not constricting their possibilities. Each Archetype has its own symbol. Here are a few of them.

The icons for the Tinkerer, Warrior and Whisperer Archetypes

PATHS

In addition to Archetypes, Players choose Paths for their Characters, which are permanent associations they make with an animal and help define what extra human Abilities they'll be able to choose from, among other effects. There are fifteen basic Paths in the core rulebook.

The Path of the Badger, the Stag and the Spider

While this game was created by a Native-led team, this game is for everyone. We've taken great care to craft a game that Natives and non-Natives alike will be able to engage in and find themselves immersed in.

For Natives, we've crafted both story and game mechanics that will allow you to integrate your own tribal customs into your play. For those who aren't Native, you'll have a wealth of options to choose from as well as clear guidelines for understanding the differences between this world and our real one.

The game is designed to be your first role playing game or your latest. The core rule book will walk players through every step of how to play Coyote and Crow, but also how to play role playing games in general, including advice on safety and inclusion as well as suggestions on where to find tools outside of the rule book to make your game both easier and more enjoyable.

Everyone involved in Coyote and Crow is deeply passionate about our game and we felt that it was time for Indigenous folks to have a game that didn't see them as secondary, as adversaries, or intertwined with colonialism.

Coyote and Crow is not set in a dystopia. The world went through a dark chapter, but the people of these nations rose to the challenge. There's good food and water, education and meaningful work for almost everyone in Makasing.

But this world isn't a utopia either. It's place that's growing, where old alliances are strained and past slights are not always forgotten. New technology is putting pressure on old traditions. And with the climate becoming milder, there is a whole world of unknowns out there. On top of all of that, there are rumors that some of the old stories about monsters and spirits might just be a little more real than some originally believed. This is a game where science and the unexplained live side by side and sometimes clash.

The Wanderer. Art by Kyle Charles.

THE CORE RULE BOOK

We are producing a beautiful 300+ page hardbound book, loaded with illustrations and containing all of the rules you'll need to play Coyote and Crow. Included in the book (and PDF) will be:

Detailed history of this alternate world

Descriptions of daily life and culture in Cahokia, the capital of the Free Lands

Rules for creating and advancing your characters, including 6 Archetypes, 15 Paths and 27 Abilities for a massive variety of options

Descriptions and stats for mythical creatures, infamous spirits, shadowy organizations and dangerous cults that can challenge players endlessly

A group of pre-generated characters if you want to jump right into playing the game

A starter adventure, Encounter at Station 54, that can act as a stand alone adventure or as the start of a larger campaign

So much more!

It still hungers. Art by Jeffrey Veregge

We have a diverse team of folks working on this game, most of whom are Native. Additionally, we are striving to bring in other marginalized voices whenever possible. Our team features people from across the LGBTQIA spectrum, including two spirit folks. It's not even a question that this game is political. If you have a problem with a game where there are no people of European descent represented, than this game is probably not for you. That said, we've truly built this game to be played by everyone. It might seem like a big leap, but don't worry, we're going to hold your hand the whole way through and you'll be so happy you stepped off the edge into this vibrant fresh world.

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

Kickstarter campaign ends: Fri, April 2 2021 3:00 AM BST

Website: [Coyote and Crow] [instagram]

#RPG #kickstarter #Coyote & Crow

62 notes · View notes

tracycameron · 2 years

Text

The year was 2016......

2016 started off rough for me. New Year's was spent with Bronchitis. They say how you bring in the year is what was going to lay out the rest of the year and by June, this couldn't have been more real for me.

As many of you know, I was the Race Director for a 5k put on at the Urology practice where I was working. The week of the event, I was not feeling myself. I sat at a packet pick-up 2 days prior at a local runner store, running in and out of the bathroom with a migraine. "you want your bag... um, hold please while I go vomit first. BRB." The following day, wasn't much better and I was sent home to recover while my co-workers handled it. Now-- what you may not know is I'm a slight control freak, so leaving this alone to go recover made my skin crawl. It was no surprise when I showed up a few hours later to check in. I have issues, I know. And of course they were fine. I however had no idea what was to come on race day.

The event starts off great! Everyone is having fun, the band is playing, people are drinking, and I am going down real quick. I was taking into the office, brought into a patient room and given 2 bags of IV fluids. Did that stop me? Hell no. While on the 2nd bag of fluids, I grabbed the IV pole and walked back outside to help with awards. My dedication to the event was more important to me. I was raising money for prostate cancer and I felt like I needed to show my face. When I tell you I'm crazy, this is what I mean. I ended up in the hospital that night diagnosed with pneumonia. That's truly how sick I was and looking back I know that sometimes its okay to take that break.

Cut to July. It is my in-laws 40th anniversary and we are headed to Mexico. It was beautiful. The sun, the warmth, my husband getting drunk at the swim up bar and falling into the pool. I'm telling ya, magical. Half way through the trip though, I did not feel well, yet again. Shocking, I know. I thought I had a urinary tract infection. For those that don't know, the urgency, frequency, burning sensation every 2-3 minutes to use the bathroom is awful. I went to bed that night, hoping it would resolve. I woke up shaking. Like it's 90 degrees at 3am and I am in my sweat pants, hoodie, 3 blankets and cuddled up so close to Jay to get warm. I stayed like this for 2 days before we flew home. We landed, I came in my house, went to bed and woke up and went to the ER. I had a stone. Hoorah! Not really. It was stuck. There wasn't one, there were 7 and I was septic. I didn't realize how bad I was and I spent the next week laid up in the hospital. I finally said enough is enough.

Why am I saying all this to you? This was my breaking point. I was tried of being tired. I was tried of being sick and I was wanting to do something for myself. So, I dove into a Beachbody program. I gave myself 21 days to 'fix' myself. I worked out, I portion controlled, and I was strict with the plan. And it worked. I lost weight. And I felt better. And people noticed. And friends wanted to join and do it with me. I was excited. I jumped right into teaching my friends what I was doing. We talked daily, we let our guards down with each other, and together we were encouraging each other to keep going.

I lost a total of 40-45lbs over a 6 month period. I started coaching and had a team of 55 working out with me and I was starting to make some money doing this. I got so wrapped up though in helping my team, that I stopped helping myself. My phone was pinging constantly that I would stop my work out to talk to someone. Or I would get to talking to someone that I forgot to meal prep and was hitting up a drive-thru. How could I continue to coach people when I couldn't coach myself? What I learned from this was the success was celebrated and celebrated a lot, but when you needed the break, when you needed the time-out to refocus, the success and the 'friendships' you made became a distant memory. And I no longer wanted to be a part of it. I feel back into my old habits and well, here I am, 8 years later. No matter how many times, I tried to jump back into the program that worked for me back then, I could not get back into that same routine. I'm older, hormones change, metabolism changes, blah blah blah.

Everyone has their own version of what works for them and what doesn't. And some people might not understand the journey that has taken me to this point, but it's mine and mine alone. I know what I am doing is right for me and in the long run, I will be a much better person for it. Until then.....

I'm fine. It's fine. Everything's fine.

2 notes · View notes

drabbles-of-writing · 4 years

Note

Okay now you have to tell us what the siblings did to the Blight manor.

SOMEONE ASKED!!

well, first of all, they tear that bitch to the GROUND. it was during the first four years when they raid the place to grab Amity’s stuff and Dip Out. whole family was there while the parents were out at some meeting. came back to rooms on fire and over half of their belongings missing. they fixed it all up, obviously, but it was a HUGE talk for a while.

but what I really meant was when the twins inherited the manor. Something happens to the Blight parents, haven’t decided on if the bitches just died or moved away, and they suddenly own their old home. They rip out anything that has anything to do with their parents, change color schemes, furniture, all that and either chuck it in the trash or the darkest depths of the basement and set it ablaze. Burning the past away motherfuckers. And then, when all that’s done, they change the name. They thought about it for a while and eventually decided on the name; the Raven House. It was a joke between them, and also to tick off Lilith, but the name stuck. They even gave her a tiny picture above the door to solidify it. Eda still insists the Owl House is better than any big manor.

Once everything is finished and the manor is re-made, the ex-Blight’s all come to an agreement on what to do with it, since they all already had their own places and didn’t feel like moving into the house they were abused in. They say a final ‘fuck you’ to their parents and make it one big safehouse. By which I mean it’s like a shelter. Kids or young witches and humans alike (though the humans are just kids wandering by after getting in a fight with a monster or the older graduated kids when they need a little assistance) can come and stay in the Raven House to be safe and secured for however long they need.

Barcus is in charge of the place, and he looks after any kids who come along no matter the background. Some kids only stay for 24 hours, others stay for months, sometimes a few years, on end. These are typically kids who have nowhere else to go or are on the run. We’ve got kids from the Isles, stowaways from other islands and even The Mainland, kids escaping abusive homes, orphans, kids who just need a break after getting lost/hurt nearby, the works. It’s a well-known place that’s completely free, since the Blight’s and even Lilith on occasion pay the taxes for it. It’s sweet for Barcus because he’s supplied with everything for free, but also hell because he has to deal with a bunch of kids on a daily basis. Luckily for him, he likes kids.

Course some witches or humans don’t understand Barcus, so he always has a chalkboard and chalk around his neck that he can hover in the air with his magic to write to the kids and help them learn how to understand him. If they can’t read, he usually has to call in one of the other kids in the House to help him out. No matter how long a kid stays, they are asked to carve their names on a large stone outside the manor. It used to be a statue in the front lawn the ex-Blight kids knocked over and left there, but it was repurposed. It’s littered with names and it’s not uncommon to find Barcus staring at the names or teaching some kids to read by having them read the names off the stone.

Now, the manor is big. It can easily house multiple packs of kids. But the thing is, it only has 6 bedrooms, and Barcus uses one of the smaller ones. Of course multiple kids could live in the same room, but there are some that need it more than others and aren’t comfortable with other kids. So the bigger bedrooms are saved for those kids (unless there’s an open spare one in which case it gets SWARMED) or Barcus asks the new kid to set up their stuff anywhere in the house, so long it didn’t interfere with others. Which leads to kids sleeping and hanging out in....interesting places. There’s always someone living in one of the bathrooms, three kids minimum at all times squirreling away in the closets (small and large), there’s a pile of pillows and blankets in the second dining room where kids hang out under the table, the big hallways have sleeping bags in them, some kid hid in one of the larger kitchen cabinets just because she could, there are SO MANY in the basement and attic, the library has all the nerds vibing on the bolted-down wall shelves and balconies, and one madlad set up a hut on the roof. Barcus isn’t happy with any of these but he supposes so long they don’t hurt themselves or own up to it being a bad idea later, he’ll deal with it.

They also offer to send plenty of these kids to school (usually Hexside but sometimes others), but there are a few who refuse it and Barcus homeschools them. The rule of thumb with anyone who stays in the Raven House is that you WILL be smothered in an intense amount of Found Family and you CANNOT stop them. It’s a mad house and it’s glorious. They have their own kinds of memes and vines in that house and it’s law that if someone says “pubby” then EVERYONE in the vicinity has to tackle Barcus in a cuddle pile.

Others of the Owl Family often drop by as well. The first few times were a mess cause Barcus had to explain this was his family and no you don’t have to come down and say hi if you’re uncomfortable but please stop losing it every time Edric comes by we know he’s a fashion extraordinaire please- Camilia is one of the most common visitors, and the kids call her Aunt Camilia (a name she would vividly remember from her time in the human realm) and she teaches them all how to cook and tell them stories from the human realm. Barcus is very thankful because he needs one stable adult to help him with these kids. All the ex-Blights visit as well, though Amity slightly less because she’s so busy. Edric arrives just to show off, and Emira is a lot more refined n checks in on the kids, since her job is a children’s health care worker. Granted, Barcus does a pretty good job of being their therapist, he got a degree for a reason. Amity is a treat visit, because there’s always someone who knows she’s the Empress’s advisor and they all gawk at her for a minute before realizing she’s a shy dork n have fun info dumping on her bc she listens to them with rapt interest. Gus is a fun show, often taking down notes of the theatre kids and showing off his illusion magic, acting as his own little inspiration to them by being one of the best in his grade despite being significantly younger. He also tells his theories of the human realm which are still off and need to be corrected by Camilia. Willow is a lot more sweeter n is like the grandma who gives you too much candy but is also not afraid to beat someones ass. She’s one of the few adults All the kids respect. Luz is fun because she gives adventures and shows off a lot. And kids are always in awe at her tattoos and scars. Of course, Luz still has dumbass ideas every once in a while and ends up getting kicked out early in her visit on occasion. She showed kids how to swallow a light spell. Lilith shows up at least once a month for a little bit, and the kids always LOSE IT. At first it was genuine shock but eventually they just did it for fun because they knew it made Lilith embarrassed. Eda...god Eda is a visit kids are either excited for or dreading, depends if you can put up with her energy. Eda usually shows up when she’s bored, hiding from the cops or needs to steal something from the Raven House. She’s the weird eccentric grandma of everyone and she adores the kids. Her showing up often either ends in something catching on fire or a couple of kids getting in trouble with the law, which Eda or Barcus can easily snatch them out of. Y’all know of the Life Changing Field Trip With Zuko? Eda has a very similar thing where she grabs a gaggle of kids and takes them on an adventure, but it usually ends up looking like chores. Either way it ends up in either giving the kid some Advice they needed or just changing a way they think based on the adventures they get up to. When she gets much older and crankier, she slows down a bit but never stops having bad ideas or advice, but it’s a lot easier for the calmer kids to talk to her.

Barcus keeps all the trinkets the kids give him and holds them in a special room only he can access, like the passageways in Hexside. He cares about all the kids who come to the Raven House, even if its only for a little while. He’s still a dog at heart. A lot of kids he hears from a few months or years after they leave. They’ll call or show up and tell him how they are. And whenever they do he makes time to sit down with them with tea and listen to all they have to say. Even if they only visit once, he’s glad to see them. But, of course, there are the kids he never hears from. The ones who don’t want to, the ones who are too busy, the ones who moved off the Isle and elsewhere, the ones who get lost out there in the world, and the ones who have died. But Barcus almost never learns what their fate was. He’ll have nights where he sits in his room filled with trinkets or by the rock with names and wonder what happened to them, and hoping that they’re okay and happy. But he doesn’t have time to think about that. He has new kids coming in all the time, he should focus on them, not the past. That’s what he tells himself.

125 notes · View notes

alleycatmimi · 4 years

Text

✿ℂ𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

──────────────── ────

Min Yoongi × reader;

idol!au;

↬ ⓌⒶⓇⓃⒾⓃⒼⓈ: swearing, smut, fingering(f), blowjob, dirty talk, choking, spanking, fingers sucking, pet play, bdsm themes, AGUST D (I'VE WARNED YOU), MINT HAIR YOONGI, some violence(not much tho), daddy kink, some praising kink, nipple play, overstimulation, protected sex;

↬ Genre: idol!au, fluff, smut, lil angst(not.much.of.it), NSFW, dom!yoongi, sub!reader, idol!yoongi, idol!reader, model/actor! seokjin, manager!namjoon, dance teacher!hoseok, fanboy!jungkook, makeup artist!taehyung, kendo trainer!jimin;

↬ Words count: 11k+ (I am sorry, but it has 3k of smut :') )

↬ Description: One party. One glare. One song. Two hearts. Two idols. A collaboration who will change the lifes of both of you, but not only professional.

•───────────────────•

" Somewhere in the rain.

When the stars are gone,

Covered by the heavy clouds,

My eyes are still holding back the pain,

And my heart is shameless plain,

Plain by someone

Who used to hold my hand

And danced with me under the rain."

The uproar, the clink of the crystal glasses, full of expensive wine, or golden champagne, the laugh of the guests from the corners of the bright, elegant and luxurious room, everything faded away when she stepped on the beautifully arranged stage. To Yoongi, nothing of these counted anymore, he couldn't hear anything else, except his chaotic heart beats and her beautiful voice, ringing in his ears, making him feel like a dream he once had, floading so easily between the puffy clouds, watching the world underneath, engrossing the beautiness of it, exactly like she did.

All eyes were on her. From the moment she leaded on the stage, she captivated everyones stares, making some of them gossip and some of them to become mutes. Her pale pink dress, tight on her chest, embracing her breasts, was falling in easy waves, starting from her waist, down her thighs, reaching her knees, where the material ended. Her short hair, which was reaching her shoulders into the most beautiful bob haircut Yoongi has ever seen, was decorated with hair tinsel, making it shine into the golden light of the flood light, giving her an angelic look.

Who was her? The new idol everyone was talking about. Y/F/N, the young 19 years old, who has made her debut months ago, leaving everyone shooked by her skills in dancing and mesmerizing voice, but same time, attracting critics about her fragile age and her short trainee period: only one year.

Someone hit Yoongi's shoulder, making him move forward one step, almost dropping his refined champagne glass, on the lady in front of him, the movement snapping him back to reality, a curse leaving his parted lips. He muttered a sorry to her, ignoring the frown she offered him, his eyes returning on the stage, where Y/N was.

His heartbeats started to accelerate, panic washing over him quickly, causing his breath to incrase, chest rising and falling fast. She was not there anymore. Where was she?!

"Hey, Yoongi!" a voice called for him, almost being heard by the uproar of the part. A large hand reached Yoongi, resting on the shoulder of his Dior costume, which, by the way, was not cheap at all. (Duh) Yoongi turned his face towards the voice, though his stare was reaching over the man's shoulder, searching something, or someone, in the crowd.

"Yoongi-ah!"

It was Kim Seokjin. Looking back to his friend, Yoongi titled his head, staring at him with a frustrated stare. "Yes, hyung?" He asked, gaze trailing on the faces around the room, once more, then turning back to his friend.

"What do you think about the party?" He asked, a bright smile appearing on his handsome face.

Kim Seokjin, graduating with a degree in art and acting, in Konkuk University, he became a model and soon, a very known and loved actor, making all the girls and even boys go crazy over his appearence, acting skills and angelic voice- which he proved, once in a k-drama, when he sang a song Yoongi labeled. This is how they met.

Agust D. While Yoongi was filming for the video of his recent mixtape, Agust D 2, the Daechwita video, one of their actors announced, in the very last moment, his resignation, leaving everyone shooked and giving Yoongi a headache and palpitations.

It happened for Seokjin to be in that studio that day. He knew Yoongi very well, from all the radio channels and interviews, Agust D was such a huge model for every teenager and kid. So before Yoongi lost his mind, he decided to be an angel and since he had some hours left until the shooting started, he played the role himself.

"Are you sure you wanna do it, Kim Seokjin-ssi?" Yoongi asked, both relief and amusament playing on his face. Why was he that amused? Seokjin thought. Later on he found out why. A peasant. Him. The famous and great Kim Seokjin played a poor fisher man.

In return, Yoongi helped him with a song he urgently needed to compose for one of the k-dramas he was working at. This was the beginning of their friendship. Now, Yoongi was to his expensive party, thrown for celebrating the end of his last projects. At first, when Seokjin invited him to the party, he thought of denying him, but he knew the man way too well. There is no refuse when it comes to Kim Seokjin.

Yoongi cursed under his breath when he realised how stupid he has been, when he thought of denying the model's invitation, hours ago. Back then, he was working on some new lyrics, quickly peeking at the matching suit he chose last night. It was laid on the couch, lifeless and looking so boring, but he couldn't deny the fact he could almost hear it whispering to him, every time he was turning to his messy papers, tempting him to go and dress up.

So there he was. Still searching for her, passing Seokjin who, luckily for Yoongi, saw a couple and went for greeting them, hands already full of two new sparkly glasses of refined alcohol. Where was she?

━━━━━━━ •♬• ━━━━━━━

That night, Yoongi couldn't go to sleep easily. His dreams were full of glasses clink, laughs, pale dress folds and a melody ringing into his ears like a nostalgic echo. He was surrounded by cold places, a forest, an empty room, a car slowly drawning into the water, with him inside. He could swear he was able to feel the coldness of the water and the burn in his lungs when it filled the car completly, swallowing him into another dark place.

━━━━━━━ •♬• ━━━━━━━

Yoongi groaned, annoyed, turning around, on his stomach, burring his face further into the white pillow. It was 7 AM in the morning and he couldn't continue his sleep because of the uproar outside. This often happened in the last week. The apartment next door was getting renovated, waiting for its new owner to arrive, so he was forced to listen to the loud sounds the hammer drill was causing for the whole week, every morning, since 6 AM.

He sighed, turning on his back, the white t-shirt he was wearing lifting up enough of exposing some pale skin. He rubbed his eyes, trying to chase away his sleepy mood. He rose up to his bottom, hands travelling from his eyes to his mint hair, scratching his scalp with his bitten nails, messing his soft locks. He rolled his eyes, staring at the round clock on the white wall in front of him. 6:06 AM.

Getting up from his bed, his grey sweatpants fell downer on his hips, exposing some of his vline. He worked so hard at gym recently, that some abs already appeared on his usual fluffy stomach. Yoongi cracked his neck twice, stretching his muscles, by arching his back. Satisfied by the broken sound of his bones cracking, he made his way towards his bathroom, thinking if he should actually ask the painters next door to paint his white walls into something more vibrant. Like black.

━━━━━━━ •♬• ━━━━━━━

Yoongi got out of his bathroom, the creak of his bathroom door hurting his ears, making his headache go further. He should definetly call the bricklayers to him too, or at least, ask them kindly if they can give him some vaseline to resolve the problem of his door. He secretly hoped he will see the new owner of that stupid apartment so he can learn to ignore them for the rest of his life in that building.

Yoongi wrapped a towel around his hips, the white of his skin making his veins visible into the mirror. For a moment he thought about getting tanned but as fast as this unexpected thought popped up into his mind, it disappeared. He hates the sun. A vampire? He might be, who knows.

He made his way towards his luxurious kitchen. A knock on door made him jump in place, hand freezing half way to grab a bottle of water from his fridge. He stared at the clock. 6:42 AM, the wet bangs of his hair falling on his forhead, right under his eyes. He wasn't waiting for someone, he was sure and who could that be that idiot to visit him this early in the morning and risk on waking him up?! All of his friends knew how grumpy the mint haired man gets when he doesn't get enough of sleep.

And he was so grumpy then.

He frowned. There was a pause between knocks. The person was probably unsure if they should wake him up or not. The answer was no. They shouldn't disturb him, even if he was already up. Grabbing a bottle of water and closing the fridge, which already started to beep, anouncing him he kept it opened for too long, he made his way to his hall way, opening the door, not caring to take a look first. He swore if it was his trainer, Jimin, who came to annoy him again about his daily kendo classes, or Namjoon, his manager...

"Hi."

Yoongi's breath got caught in his throat. He grabs on the door frame, eyes wide in shock, not beliving what is happening.

━━━━━━━ •♬• ━━━━━━━

Y/F/N. She was sitting in front of Min Yoongi's door. And he was wearing nothing less but his towel around his sinful hips and his wet hair falling into his eyes. Y/N gulped down the node in her throat, letting her gaze travel down his half naked body. Licking her lips, she watched a water drop slowly making its way down the man's abdominal muscles, leaving a wet path on his abs.

Her gaze trailed up to his chest, notincing the colour of his nipples. Pink. Cute. Her eyes scanned his thick neck, up to his jaw and parted lips and finally meeting his own gaze. If the man in front of her was bothered by her staring at him like this, he said nothing, nor teased her about it. She thought he is probably used with girls staring at him like a whole snack, anyway. She frowned at this thought, prefering to shake her head, trying to not visualise an imagine of on of her favourite idols with someone else. He looked shooked actually.

His lips were parted, his eyes wide opened, his veiny hand holding on the door way, making her lick her lips once more, having to reprime a silent whimper. Damn it, why nobody told her this apartment was Agust D's apartment?!

They stared at each other for a while, not knowing what to say or do, a blush creeping on her face. As they thought like one mind, they both started to bow and greet each other, causing they heads to bang together.

"Ow!" She mumbled, holding her head, losing her balance, ready to fall on her back, right on the stairs. Yoongi's heart started to beat faster, at the thought something might happen to her. He reached for her, catching her right wrist and pulling her to him, pressing her body against his, the other hand holding into his towel like his life depended on it.

Y/N face was as red as the carpet in his living room. She ended up with both of her hands on his bare chest, their bodies pressed against each other, her legs between Yoongi's spreads one. She looked up at him, bitting her bottom lip, unsure of what she should say or do, ignoring the fast rithm of her heart which was hitting her ribs cage chaotic.

But Yoongi's cheeks were flushed as well as hers and it made her feel better. But that's whem she tried to look away, but his pink nipples were exactly under her stare. She didn't mean to stare, but they were just so cute. Getting out of his transa, he blushed more and frowned, finally finding his voice.

"Yah!" Yoongi said, moving her hands to cover his nipples with, making her look up at him in shock. "Don't stare at my nipples, Y/N-ssi, I get shy." He breathed, making her chuckle when she realised what he just said. He mentally thanked God his voice wasn't shaky at all.

"Alright, alright! Sorry!!!" She said, blushing more. She thought about getting away, but Yoongi's huge hands were holding her wrists softly, his big thumbs gently stroking the side of her own hands, sending a shiver down her spine, melting her heart.

Yoongi was staring down at her, a smile playing on his lips. "When are you going to stop staring, babygirl? Like the view?" He smirked slightly, titling his neck to the side, piercing her with his gaze. How was that possible?! This man changed from a shy lil meow meow to a predathor in no seconds.

She pulled away of him, gasping, making him chuckle lowly. Y/N mentally slapped herself for daring to come here in the first place. She even forgot why she was there, anyway. She stared at Yoongi again. He was now leaning on the door way, waiting for her answer. Y/N cleared her throat.

"I-I came here for meeting my new neighbors. I am the new owner of the apartment next door." She extended her trembling hand to him. "I am Y/F/N, but I guess you already know who I am." She said, smiling shyly and putting a strand of her hair behind her left ear.

Yoongi's stomach got filled up with some annoying butterflies, hearing what she just said. Y/F/N, the misterious girl from Seokjin's party, the one who has the voice of an angel, the one who made him not sleep the whole night thinking of how innocent she looked like, ok, it's not like earlier she was innocent, but that's another story, but she was here, in front of him, telling him she was his new neighbor.

"So you're telling me you a-are my new neighbor?!" He couldn't belive his ears. He wished his voice wasn't that unsure and shaky, but it made her giggle and smirk, seeing him frustrated like that.

"Yes! I'll move in with the love of my life in some days." Y/N said, smiling sweetly. Yoongi's jaw dropped slightly. He felt hurt. Of course she had a boyfriend already, she seemed so sweet and she was so talented. "Oh..." he said, looking down to his feet. His action brought a little satisfaction to her, it was her turn now to smirk.

"Oh well, it was nice to meet you." He said, slightly bowing his head, ready to leave and close the door, but her voice stopped him. "Do you wanna meet her???"

Wait a little. What?! Yoongi froze. The love of her life was a girl?! Wait a little, she was a lesbian?! Damn it. As hot as he had to admit it was, his mood dropped even more at the thought of having zero chances with her. Well, after all, the fact she kept on staring to his nipples didn't seem that weird anymore. He slowly covered his nipples with his hands, folding his arms to his chest.

She whisteled then. The next thing he knew was a cute white fluff ball running through the hallway of the block in the arms of her owner.

Yoongi let out a heavy breath. "I want you to meet Sasha." She said, scratching the puppy's head, making her to sweep the floor with her white and fluffy tail. So she was talking about her puppy.... Yoongi cursed himself under his breath, not beliving such a fool he was.

He stared at the girl who was petting her white bichon. She was smiling down to the little fluff ball, scratching her behind the white and fluffy ears, talking to her on a cute high pitched voice, making his heart melt under her feet. Why was he attracted to her this much? Why was his heart beating so fast while he was staring at her talking to her little pet? Why was his body trembling when he heard her giggles? Why did he get a shiver down his spine last night, hearing her singing?

"Woof!" Sasha barked, moving her way towards him, making Yoongi snap back to reality. He shook his head and smiled, ready to kneel down to pet her. "Here, little one..." he started, getting out of his apartment, causing the door to close behind him and lock itself. The little bichon had other plans, anyway. She stabbed the white material of the towel with her cute and little fangs and began pulling on it. Before Yoongi or Y/N could react, the towel fell off of his hips, leaving him naked in front of the girl.

The blood rushed in their cheeks. Yoongi covered himself fast, with both of his hands, cursing out loud. He checked her face in disperation, scared of what she might say, do or think. Great way of meeting your, apparently, new crush, Yoongi. His second reaction was to open the door to get into the darkness of his apartment and die there in awkwardness. But, the door was locked and his key card was one the coffee table of his living room. Great.

Y/N looked away of him, keeping her hand on her face side, to cover her gaze with it. The puppy was staring at both of them happily and looking so satisfied by her actions, almost like laughing of Yoongi. Yoongi frowned and hissed at her, trying to take his towel fast, but she started to run down on the stairs, still holding his towel with her fangs.

"I-I...I am so sorry!" They both said same time. Y/N laughed, an awkward laugh, in attempt to reasure Yoongi there is no problem with the fact he's naked in front of her. Beside the fact they just met, there was really no problem with him being naked.

Yoongi nodded his head hesitantly, hands still covering his man parts, holding on them as if his life depended on it. Well...

Y/N wanted to say something, something that would get them out of this situation, but she couldn't think straight anymore. She was trying to hard to not stare at him. "Y/N-ssi..." he whispered. She looked at him, trying her best to keep her eyes on his face, not...downer. "Do you think you can bring me-...."

She looked down. Covering her face, she muttered a "damn it!". Now for sure he thought she is a pervert. She started to scream and ran to her apartment, next door, closing her door behind her, leaving Yoongi there, naked.

"....- something to cover up..." he continued, sighing and cursing.

━━━━━━━ •♬• ━━━━━━━

Days passed and Y/N still couldn't stop thinking about the whole incident with her hot neighbor. Oh yeah, she was now living there, in her new apartment, having Agust D exactly beside of her. She smiled to herself, remembering how him and IU were her first idols, the first ones she picked as her models.

Yes, she saw him that night at the party, staring at her, checking her up and down. Yes, her heart started to beat so fast at the thought of him actually talking to her and yes, she wanted to talk to the man she loved once, like any other fangirl. But she had to leave the party early, since her manager told her they had to go.

She sighed, she knew how hard an idol's life is, even before she became one, but... she never thought it will actually eat up all of her free time. Sitting on her couch, she went through her Twitter page, checking up on her profile. She sighed, seeing all the hate comments. Why were them so mean to her? Even since she started as a trainee, there were persons who started to criticise her.

She sighed. Frowning, she switched on a k-pop news page. Great. Her recent break up with her ex appeared everywhere. Pics of her in front of the bar, staring at her ex, who was holding on a girl's waist, were filling the internet. Oh, how much she tried to not cry back then.

She closed her eyes remembering the scene in front of her. It was her birthday. It was her birthday and she was too busy with her career to actually celebrate it. But she tought, maybe she can go out at night, with her lovely boyfriend, even staying home would have been fine. She wouldn't mind anything if that meant she was in his arms. But when she called him, announcing him she is five minutes away of home, holding an expensive bottle of champagne and a box of strawberries covered in Belgian chocolate, he came up with an excuse. No, he wasn't at their apartment. He was out of his city, taking care of his grandma, or at least, this is what he told her. And she belived it. Because, how can't you trust your loved one? And it was about his grandma. His sweet and caring grandma.

She remembered how bad she felt back then for not coming with him, to take care of the poor lady. She had so much respect for his grandma, she is such a good person, unlike her grandson, who lied. Later that night, while she was eating alone her box of strawberries, she got a call from her friends. They wanted to take her to a bar. At first she refused, scared of the paparazzi, but decided to put on her cute black dress and go out party with her friends, at least they didn't forget about her.

Once she arrived there, her breath stopped. Getting out of the bar, was no one else, but her so called boyfriend. He was desperately clinging on a blonde's waist, almost sucking her life out of her mouth. She still remembers the tight two pieces outfit the girl had. Oh and the long black heels. Now, on her couch, she stared at the pics shivering, feeling how the nausea was starting to wash over her again. She tried to be this cute and innocent looking like person, exactly because he said he likes cute girls. He was not the sexy type himself. She really tried to change herself for someone who didn't deserve even her glare. And for what? For people pointing fingers at her, acusing that she's trying to copy IU.

Sasha came on the couch, sitting beside her thighs, resting her muzzlr against the skin of it. Y/N hummed, stroking the head of the little fluff ball, causing her to move her tail. The little puppy looked up at her, puppy huge eyes piercing hers. "I am alright, sweetheart." She said, wipping her eyes with her free hand and sniffing her nose. "I just... got emotional and don't know what to do, baby. Don't worry about mommy..." she whispered.

The puppy got up and jumped from the couch, leaving a huge pout on Y/N's face. The puppy disappeared behind the corner of the room, leaving her sighing on her cozy couch. That's when Sasha came back holding something as white as her fur. She put the cloth at her owner's feet. Y/N titled her head, confused at first. Then, when she raised the white cloth from her feet, she blushed.

"Yoongi's towel." She muttered.

━━━━━━━ •♬• ━━━━━━━

"Oh come on, Yoongi. This song is perfect for that thematic! Stop being so stubborn." His manager sipped from his cup of latte, rolling his eyes on the shirtless man, who was tuning his guitar, not paying attention to his manager. How dare he?

Yoongi's mouth formed a slightly smirk. Oh how he loved to play with people's nerves. Testing a chord with one of his long fingers, he hummed, pleasured with the sound of it. He tried all of the six chords, deciding the last one needs to be straightened a little more. Namjoon sighed. "Yoongi-ah!"

He rolled his eyes. "I know, I know, it is not straightened enough, let me just..., there you go." He said, finishing. Namjoon groaned, grabbing a pillow and planning on throwing it into Yoongi's face. Yoongi gave him a grin, a quiet giggle escaping his lips. He was ready to catch the pillow, when a knock on door followed by a bark disturbed them, making him turn his face towards the door, freezing, the pillow hitting his head.

"Jackpot!" Namjoon said, moving his fists in air dimples pocking out.

Yoongi threw him a death glare and went towards the door, his heart beating faster and faster at the sound of her voice. "Shhh, Sasha!!" He could head her nagging the puppy. A smiled bloomed on his face, when he opened the door and saw her in a loosen hoodie and shorts, making her look so cozy, adorable and yet, sexy, he had to admit.

"H-hi." She stuttered.

Yoongi's smile widened when she saw her lowering her head, avoiding his gaze. Was she blushing?

"Hi, baby." He said, teasing her. Now for sure she was blushing. Yoongi's smile transformed into a smirk. "Are you blushing, love?" He titled his head to one side, her gaze messuring her up and down, his gaze resting to her bare thighs a little too long. Licking his lips, Yoongi pushed his mint locks back.

He observed as she watched his every move, her full bottom lip being caught between her teeth itself. Oh, how he wished her would kiss her right away, right there in the hallway, pressing her body against the wall, caught between his more muscled one and the wall.

"I came here to..." she said, watching his naked torso.

"To stare at my nipples again?" He cowed an eyebrow.

Her face got as red as the ruby ring she was wearing. She couldn't belive her ears. Yoongi leaned towards his doorway, running hisright hand, once more in his hair. "No! I came here to bring you this!" She said, pointing to the towel she was holding, sounding a little sharper than she initially wanted to. "Why do you always have to be naked in front of me anyway?!" She asked, faking her annoyance.

"You can't tell me you don't like it." He whispered, face close of hers now. His eyes trailed from her beautiful and doe eyes, to her pink lips. Her eyes widened in shock. Shaking her head, she held the towel in front of him, looking away.

Yoongi titled his head, but was quickly to take the towel from her delicate hand. "Alright then, I'll leave now- ..." she started, her words getting stucked into her throat when he took her hand and pressed her fingers against his velvety lips.

Why he did that? He didn't know the reason, himself. All he knew was her freesia scent inebrieting him, gas lighting him, too the point all he knew was the urgent need of touching her, of taking her into his arms and keeping her close. Oh, how was poor him so in love with her?

It all started days ago when he searched the whole internet for facts, news and informations about the idol Y/F/N. Pages of pictures of her filled up his phone, his heart fluttering when he saw her smile, in one of them, where she was holding a puppy. Oh how he wished the little white demon she has as her own puppy to see that picture, back then.

He learnt she only has her mom left, her parents being divorced, no siblings. But even if her life was so miserable, she was always such a joy pill. Such a little fairy, full of positive thoughts, always trying to make everyone happy and brighten your day. And that is valuable for her lyrics too. A sunshine. A lovely girl with a big heart. Was that even possible to exist on this earth ?

He jumped slightly when he felt her fingers moving slightly on his lips. He stared into her eyes and he swore he could see she was feeling something too. Maybe not as much as he felt, but it was comforting to know she liked him too. Her blushing cheeks couldn't lie, right?

"Y/N, I want to tell you something." He said. Yes, Yoongi, tell her how you have a big crush on her, how you dream about her and how your laptop is full of pages talking about her. "Y-Yes, sunbae-nim?" She mutered, with a trembling voice, making him almost pin her against that wall, kissing her breathless.

"Oh? Y/F/N-ssi??" Namjoon was behind him. Yoongi almost groaned in frustration, but he made way for Namjoon. "I am Kim Namjoon, Yoongi's manager." He smiled and extended his hand, for a hand shake. When she put her delicate hand into his, he slightly squeezed it, shaking it lightly. "What is our beautiful Y/N doing here?" He asked. Yoongi rolled his eyes. Why was he still there anyway?

The blush on her face incrased. "I am his new neighbor. I live there." She said, pointing one finger to her apartment. Namjoon raised an eyebrow at Yoongi. "You were this close of a beauty and didn't tell me?" He teased him. Yoongi was boiling. Of course he didn't tell him. She was his. Alright, practically she wasn't, theoretically she was.

When Y/N giggled, Yoongi almost growled. Maybe of how beautiful her giggles were, but definetly because he was not the one making her giggle. "Don't flatter me, Mr. Kim, you are good looking yourself, too." She said, a slight smirk playing on her lips when she saw Namjoon gulping down and Yoongi's right hand forming a fist.

"Oh? Mr. Kim? I liked that." He pointed out, winking her way, his tongue pocking out, to lick his full bottom lip. She watched his movement like a transa and quickly turned her head when Yoongi coughed. "Hyung, don't you have work to do?" He asked, between gritted teeth.

"No, I actually-..." but Yoongi kicked him out, throwing his bag into his arms and the cap he forgot in his apartment, on his head. "You were complaining of such a busy schedule you have!I'll see you later!"

Namjoon blinked and nodded his head, mumbling and making Y/N giggle once more. "Good bye, Mr. Kim." She teased, making him show her one dimples smile and a frown to his client and friend. "Don't forget about that song!" And with that, he left.

"Mr. Kim, huh?" Yoongi titled his head, eyes fixed on hers. She rose up her chin, in atempt to feel less smaller in front of him that she was already feeling. "Writing a song, huh? And yes. Mr. Kim. Didn't know your manager is so hot." she sucked on her bottom lip, staring back at him.

Yoongi opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off one more, by a bark of Sasha who ran into his apartment. "Sasha, come to mommy!" She said out loud. But the little puppy was already running into his bedroom. "I'll go after her. But don't think the conversation ended here." He warned, turning around and going to search for the puppy. She smiled to herself for making him jealous, thinking if she should enter his apartment or stay there, when a tap on her shoulder made her jump slightly. Turning around, her breath got caught in her throat.

Yoongi searched for the little puppy everywhere. She wasn't under his bed, between his pillows or under the table. No, she was into his closet. Nibbling on his Chanel jacket. Amazing. "Oh, you little devil!" He said, taking her into his arms and pulling away the jacket, with a huge frown on his face. Sasha barked at him, but quickly pushed her wet muzzle into gis neck making him laugh and shiver. "You know, you are not that bad." He said, stroking her furr. "But you're mommy will call me daddy soon." He smirked to himself.

Making his way to the front door, he froze in place, a huge frown on his face. There was a guy beside Y/N. No, there was a guy pinning her against a wall. He couldn't see her face, but he was sure she didn't like it since she was trying to get his hands away.

"Let me explain to you, Y/N!" He almost yelled at her. "No, David! We have nothing to talk about! I am over you anyway!" She groaned, pushing him off of her. Or at least she tried to, because the guy didn't move one inch. Yoongi placed the puppy down, who anyway, started to bark at the man in front.

Yoongi grabbed him by shoulder, turning him around. Tall, blonde, full of himself, the fave of a fucker. Oh. Yoongi remembered now. That was her ex. "Who are you-..." he asked but Yoongi kicked his face with his fist, memories of the informations he read about their break up coming back. He saw her face in these pics, hating the way her face was controlled in desperation "The one who stole your girl!" He said, cracking his neck twice.

Y/N's eyes widened in shock. She didn't know what to be more shocked about, the fact he punched her ex, or the fact he said she is practically his? Staring from her ex to Yoongi and back to her ex., she felt the frustration and tenssion like a weight on her tiny shoulders. "You are with him now?!" The taller man asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes, do you have a problem with that?!" Yoongi barked, pushing the man, steps away, sitting between him and Y/N, in an attempt to protect her of whatever he could do to her. Not like Yoongi would allow him to. Or to anyone,else lay one finger on his precious Y/N. "You're such an ungrateful bitch, Y/N! Accusing me of cheating on you, but you were actually the one fucking this shitty man who dares to call himself a celebrity, behind my back?!"

Y/N gasped in shock. It was the first time she heard the person she used to call "her lover" , for three years, saying something like this. "I-I..." she started, affected by the name he gave to her. Yoongi's hands formed fists, around the collar of the t-shirt belonging to the man in front of him. "How did you call her?! How dare you, you piece of shit! You wasted her time, brainwashed her the whole time, made her think she is not good enough, probably used her for her money and ended up cheating on her, on her birthday?!" He finished his last sentence with a fist into the Y/N's ex's, making her gasp and jump a step back.

The taller man turned around, holding his, now, bleeding nose. He groaned, cursing under his breath. "You stupid short ass!" He yelled, ready to throw himself on Yoongi who, thanks for Jimin and his Kendo classes, had enough time to spin around and sweep his legs with his right one, making him fall into his knees, in front of Y/N. She gasped, some of the blood, from his broken nose, falling on her white slippers. She stared at him, disgusted, letting go of the tears so kept back the day he cheated on her. She really loved him once.

Now he was only a garbage, who was kept down on his knees, by a shorter man. "Look at her!" Yoongi demanded, pulling on his hair, yanking his hair back to make him stare at her. The man whined in pain. Yoongi looked around, thanking God how Namjoon left earlier and how their block was nearly empty. He really couldn't deal with some new news about Agust D beating up Y/S/N's(stage name) ex. Not like he did mind a picture of them in this position. He was feeling himself, exactly like in his Daechwita video, where he chose who dies and who lives. Yoongi shook his head. Be was becoming a little too yandere.

"Say sorry to her!" He said, once more. "Y-Yoongi..." she started to speak up, but was cut by a simple "sorry...", coming from the tall man. Yoongi groaned in frustration, trailing his veiny hand on his face. A curse left his lips. Letting him go and getting away of him, Yoongi forced the other man up into his legs. "Get out, until I won't beat your ass even worse!" He growled. He didn't even care if he will say what happened to anyone, nobody would belive him anyway.

Y/N watched as her ex left the builing, still holding on his nose. Y/N sobbed, making Yoongi stare at her. "Babygirl..." he whispered, making her stare at him. Yoongi's heart tightened, seeing the tears in her eyes. His protective arms wrapped around her smaller frame, tugging her closer to his chest, until her face was burried on his neck. She wrapped her arms around him, sobbing at his chest. She allowed him to carry her into his apartment, keeping her arms tightly around him, face never leaving his warm chest. She almost missed the smoothness of his bare skin under her cheek and hands.

Y/N swallowed the node into her throat, pulse going crazy, millions of butterflies troubling her stomach. Damn with these butterflies. But it didn't matter anymore. She didn't have to hide her feelings anymore, because she was into his protective arms now. And he was kissing her. With care, almost scared to not break her.

His lips ghosted over hers, capturing and caressing them with his, while he allowed his hand to travel the nape of her neck. She softly moaned against his mouth when he sucked into her bottom lip, pulling on it slightly with his teeth. She opened her mouth. "Yoongi k-...", giving him the opportunity of sliding his warm tongue into her mouth.

Y/N closed her eyes, allowing his wet muscle to caress hers, enjoying the new feeling. She started to massage his tongue with hers, slowly swirling it around, when he pulled her on top of him, slowly. "You're really hot." He whispered once more, trailing his lips down her jaw, planting kissed on her heated skin. "And so lovely. So beautiful and strong. So smart." He said, between kisses.

She giggles, a smile appearing on her face. She brought her arms around his neck, hugging it, to hug him closer. "Good girl, always smile like this." He said, giggling and kissing her smile. Yoongi pulled her closer, tugging her to his chest, where she placed his cheek on. "I really wanna change my style, Yoongi." She said, drawing on his chest with her finger.

He hummed. "But I don't know how. I want something that would make me look more than cute and pretty. I am tired of aegyo stuff..." she scoffed. An idea popped into Yoongi's mind. Yes. It was the best idea ever. "Y/N! How about we make a collaboration?!" He asked, heart beating even faster, excited. Her eyes sparkled. "Are you serious?" She asked, unsure of his answer. "Yes, baby! I have this song I am working on, we can add your part and that's it. " he explained, smiling wide.

She nodded her head, planting lots of kisses on his face, making Yoongi blush hard. "Yaaah!!" He said, making her laugh.

━━━━━━━ •♬• ━━━━━━━

"Yes, hyung. I'll finish the song as soon as possible." At the other line of the phone, Namjoon was speechless. "And what changed your mind, Yoongles?" He asked, raising his eyebrow as if the younger one was in front of him.

Yoongi wipped the blood from the floor, using his wet mop, his phone being caught between his cheek and shoulder. He could say the other man was working in something, hearing the shift of some papers. Suddently, his admiration for his manager grew up even more. He really puts a lot of effort in his work. Maybe he should actually appreciate Namjoon's work more. Not as if he didn't already.

"Oh nothing that big. I actually thought of a collaboration." The shift of pages stopped at the other line. For some minutes, there was not a noise anymore, the only thing proving Namjoon was still there was the sound of his breath playing on the background.

Yoongi finally finished mopping the floor. After Y/N fell asleep into his arms, he took his time to stare at her sleeping face for a while, admiring the girl's features. He left her there and took Sasha with him, so the little white fur devil won't wake her up, taking his mop with him, to wipe that fucker's blood from the floor, so nobody who happens to come in won't get scared. "Hyung? Are you still there?" He asked, after putting the mop away. Yoongi got into his apartment, closing the door behind him. He sighed and made his way to the bathroom to wash his hands.

"I think that's a great idea!" Namjoon finally answered, surprised.

━━━━━━━ •♬• ━━━━━━━

Y/N looked around the dancing room, once more, amazed. Of course she had her own dancing room, with her own coreographer, but this room was totally different. It was full of Kaws figurines. She found out that Hoseok, Yoongi's choreographer, is a fan of them. She found that cute, especially the fact this man was full of joy, always shinning with happiness and dinamism. No wonder his nickname was Sunshine.

They were now practicing for the third time that day. "Yoongi, keep your hands on her waist like I showed you. Pull her closer when the beat comes." Hoseok instructed them. Y/N blushed for the hundreth time since she started this project with Yoongi. Having him this close every day, his hands all around her, his scent filling up her nostrils, it was driving her crazy, to the point she could lose herself inside of his hold in every moment.

Oh course, his sinful stares, teasing smirks and winks weren't helping her at all, especially because a lot of back dancers were practicing behind them. And also..., she was questioning herself. Did she actually dream she kissed Min Yoongi? Did she dream the cute and almost intimate moment they had in his room? Because they didn't kiss since then and she had to admit she missed the feeling of his lips against hers, his taste. But no, if that wasn't real, she wouldn't be here, practicing with him for their collaboration, right?

The practice came to an end, everyone sighing in relief. "Good job, everyone!" Hoseok smiled at them all. She really liked this man so much, she decided. "Yoongi, can we t-..." she wanted to ask l, but got interrupted. "Thank you for all of this, Hobi!" Y/N watched as Yoongi made his way to the other side of the room, thanking the colorful man. She sighed, staring down at her feet. She really wasn't feeling confident like she was supposed to. And this time, the fact she didn't know what is actually this connection between her and the mint haired man, was keeping her up at night, when she was supposed to sleep, but instead of that she was staring at his phone number, bitting her fingers' tips to not call him, because she is the girl, right?

"Sorry, Y/N-ah?"

She turned around to the voice, raising her eyebrows to the man in front of her. "Yes?" She titled her head. The man was staring everywhere, but not at her, a shy bunny smile on his face. His handsome face, she noticed. "I-I am Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook." He sttutered, bowing in front of her, even though he was probably older than her. She smiled softly, giggling at his cuteness. "No need to bow, Jungkook. How can I help you?"

The boy stared at her with wide eyes, hearing his name coming from her lips. His cheeks became rosey. "I wanted to ask you if you can give me an autograph and also..." he pulled out a box of dietetic chocolate candies,making her title her head."I want you to take this. It's not like you need to diet, you're perfect already!" He said out loud, making some heads turn. He blushed harder."I just don't want you to stress over a diet after you eat them".

Yoongi was staring at them too. "What's Jeon Jungkook doing there?" He mumbled. Yoongi knew Jungkook very well, he played in his Daechwita video. Hoseok smirked, amused. "Are you two together?" Yoongi stared at him, blood creeping in his cheeks. "No. But I would love to. I really like her and...I feel this need to protect her." He explained, his stare fixed on her and the fanboy, once more. "Then don't lose her over someone else." Hoseok adviced him.

━━━━━━━ •♬• ━━━━━━━

Days passed and the relationship between them seemed to be so tensed. While Yoongi was so busy with their new project, so focused on it to pay more attention to her, Y/N's relation ship with Jungkook evoluated, they were close enough now for going out for walks, together. This is how she spent her time recently. Now she was coming back from the park, holding a flower, which Jungkook bought for her.

Staying in his door way, Yoongi scratched the back of his head, watching the girl he likes smiling towards Jungkook. "Good bye!" She said, waving to him. He watched her the whole week, coming back from walks taken with this fanboy of hers. He didn't like how he was giving his best for that collaboration and she was enjoying her time with that stranger. She was pretty absent and honestly, he missed her. Yoongi cleared his throat, when she was about to open her door. Staring at him over her shoulder, she scoffed. "What do you want?" She asked, taking Yoongi by surprise. "What do I want?! Listen here, Y/N!" He got closer of her, making her slightly back off. She quickly came back to her senses, resisting him, raising her chin up. "Can you stop doing this?!"

She was confused. "Do what?" Yoongi rolled his eyes. "This. These dates with this guy. You're just not paying enough attention to our project anymore. I thought it was important for you." "It is." She answered. "But I am the only one who works harder at it!" He snapped. Y/N stared at him in disbelief. "Maybe this is the problem. What? Are you jealous now?! That I am enjoying my time with someone? You thought I am gonna beg for your attention or what?"

Yoongi couldn't belive his ears. He was boiling. "I am jealous! So what?! Because I thought we have something special, but look what are you doing!" His veins pocked out of his neck. She rolled her eyes, making his way towards him, sitting in front of him. "I thought we have a connection, as well. But seems like this collaboration is more important to you now, than spending time with me and trying to know me better." She stared at him up and down. "This project was supposed to be funny and to bring us closer, not this." Turning around on her heel, she got into her apartment, leaving Yoongi behind, staring at her door.

━━━━━━━ •♬• ━━━━━━━

"Again." Spin, left arm up, spin back, right thigh on hip, pause to breathe. "Again!" Was all what Hoseok could say about Yoongi and Y/N. Why? Because something happened to them. He couldn't feel the connection between them anymore and it wasn't a good sign. The choreography contained a lot of touchy moments between them exactly because Hoseok wanted to help them realise how they can't ignore what they were feeling, for so long. But everything turned out to be a mess. Hoseok watched as Y/N was avoiding Yoongi's stares, him rolling his eyes at her and just continuing their choreo without paying too much attention.

"Pause, everyone." He said, sighing. "Y/N, Yoongi, come here." Yoongi watched as Y/N was already in the other corner of the room, beside her bag, laughing and playing around with Jungkook. She turned around waving at him, while making her way towards the two other males. "Yes, Hobi??" She said, ignoring the death glare Yoongi was giving her. "I don't know what is happening with you two, but you gotta stop it. You two looked like a real couple while dancing and now you look like one of you murdered the other one's hamster in sleep, or something like that. I suggest you to resolve the problem between you two, because tomorrow we have the first day of filming for the video." And with that, he left the studio, disappointment written on his face.

Y/N didn't like the fact she disappointed him. She stared at Yoongi up and down, then turned around on one heel, only for him to catch her elbow. She stared at him over the shoulder. "What?" She asked, trying to sound indifferent. "I don't like that guy. Jungkook." He confessed, making her scoff. "Of course you don't. He's charismatic, a good person, taller." Yoongi narrowed his eyes. "Watch it, little kitten." He mumbled. "Or else what?" She asked, raising her eyebrow. The tension started to build up between them, once more. But before Yoongi could react...

"Y/N-ah? Are you ready??" It was Jungkook, again. Y/N stared at Yoongi, taking his hand off of her elbow slowly, even if every cell of her body was screaming for him and his warm touch. "Yes, Jungkookie. Good bye, Mr. Min." She said, before leaving him there, once more, for that man. That night he couldn't sleep. It was obvious that Y/N was mad on him and she had her own reasons. He got so busy with this collaboration that he forgot to spend time with her. All of these after he cuddled and kissed her at him chest an entire night. He went to sleep swearing he will make up with her tomorrow.

Only if... she wasn't dressed up like this. Yoongi's jaw dropped. Y/N was breath taking again. He knew she wanted to change her style, but didn't expect this to come. He never expected her to come dressed up into a little black dress, which was so tight on her body, embracing her voluptuous hips and breasts. The matching black YSL heels she was wearing, were so delicate and were completing her outfit perfectly. The skirt of the dress was reaching one palm downer than her bottom, letting exposed more skin than she ever showed. Yoongi could feel not only the pulse of his heart, but the pulse of his dick into his pants, as well. He wanted to ravage her. To compliment her, while kissing her exposed thighs. He wanted to make sure she knows he loves her, that he apreciates her. "Are you gonna stare at her the whole day or let me finish your make up?" Taehyung asked, holding a make up brush close of Yoongi's face. "Huh?" He asked, staring at Taehyung, which giggled and rolled his eyes, chowing on his bubble gum. "As if you don't know what's my job in here, Yoongi-ssi. Let me do you make up for the video and after that you can go devour her, alright, tiger?" Yoongi narrow his eyes at Taehyung, but allowed him to do his job. He was sure the make up will be as gorgeous as usual.

Taehyung was applying the ladt touch of make up, when he saw Yoongi suddently jumping into his legs, eyes fixed on something or someone. "Oh no." Taehyung said. Jungkook was doing the choreo with Y/N. His veiny and huge arm was wrapped around her thigh, pulling her closer of him. As much as Yoongi hated to admit, they looked like a real couple like that. He made his was towards them. "Here come the problems..." Jungkook mumbled, letting go of Y/N.

"Hyund let me explain" the younger one said, seeing Yoongi's red of anger face. But he wasn't staring at him, his eyew piercing Y/N, who wasn't daring to stare back at him, chewing on her lip. "Not now, Jeon Jungkook. We'll talk later. But for today, the fiming is canceled." He demanded, pulling Y/N with him, by her wrist, out of the building.

━━━━━━━ •♬• ━━━━━━━

The door slammed after them. The next thing Y/N knew was the coldness of the wall behind her thin outfit. She was so wrong in trying to piss Yoongi off. But same time, it was only his fault that she was so sad these days, only because he gave her fake hopes and seemed to not care about her in that way anymore.

So she thought of showing him what he is losing. She appeared dressed up like that and asked Jungkook to do the choreography with her, under the reason of helping her improve. What she didn't expect was this to happen. Her, caught between Yoongi's hot body and the cold wall, her thighs wrapped around his waist, her hands into his mint hair. She couldn't even remember when did she burry her fingers into the softness of his locks, or when he pulled her legs up from the ground to wrap them around his tiny waist.

"Did you dress up like this so he can stare at your ass?!" He growled lowly, grabing a hold of your ass, squeezing the flesh and making you moan on his hair. Well, maybe it was a bad idea to flirt back to Jungkook. But it wasn't fair. If Yoongi can flirt and go out with another girl, she can too. And they weren't even officially together.

"Does it even matter?! It doesn't look like you gave a fuck about me these past days!" She snapped back, making Yoongi wrap his veiny hand around her fragile throat. She widened her eyes, the palm of his hand squeezing her neck, taking some of her air away. "Mmm..." she moaned, out of suddent, a blush creeping on her cheeks, a curse in her mind, for allowing herself to moan.

"Watch it, little slut." He whispered lowly, sounding like a predathor. His face was so close of hers she could feel his hot breath on on her cheek. "An angel like you isn't allowed to say filthy words like these ones." With another frown, she crossed her arms. "M-Maybe I wanted to stop being this angel. Maybe I wanted to be hot and sexy. Maybe I wanted everyone to see I can be more." She said, almost whispering the last part, staring away of him.

Yoongi's heart skipped a bit, hearing her words. He knew very well what she was feeling because of her shitty ex. and he couldn't like the idea of her thinking like that. An idea popped into his mind, making him stroke her jaw with his big thumb, gently turning her face towards him. He fixed her with a soft, yet so imposing stare, making her melt and shiver at the same time.

"My little babygirl wants to be a little slut, huh?" He whispered, using his raspy voice. She wasn't ever into these kind of nicknames and it's not even like her ex was something else, but a vanilla peasant, who liked her riding him and ocassionally missionary. The guy was literally so boring. But she couldn't deny the way Yoongi's raspy voice while calling her 'little slut' was appealing.

When he pulled away, she whimpered , feeling the loss of his hot body pressed on hers. Yoongi cowed an eyebrow, smirking. "What was that, princess?" He asked, obviosly rethorical. She looked away, heated cheeks appearing. Yoongi let a low chuckle to escape him. He disappeared on his hallway, leaving her behind, confused. "Don't move from there, Y/N!" He warned, voice coming from his bedroom. She nodded then, face palming, when she realised he can't see her. "Y-Yes, Yoongi." She murmured.

Coming back from his bedroom, holding something behind him, the mint haired man devilishly smirked, coming closer and closer, making her back off. Oh god, he looked huge. He was shirtless now, allowing her to see his abdominal defined muscles and pectorals, moving under his silk like skin. Her stare trailed down his strong arms, salivating at the sight of his veins. He was like a predathor and he was coming from her.

"Where are you going, little kitten?" He asked and she almost moaned. Oh, how much she loved it. Kitten. But, wouldn't it sound better having "my" in front? She shook her head, refusing to look him into his eyes. She was now beside the couch, her calfs hitting the back of it. Yoongi stopped in front of her, his leather boots tips, pressed against the tips of her own, black high heels. "I asked you something, pet." He growled, holding her waist woth one strong arm, bringing their bodies closer, faces centimeters away. "Look at me, baby." He whispered, in a seductive way. She bit her bottom lip, staring into his eyes. God, he was so charming. The way his lips were forming that usual smirk on hie beautiful face, the way his eyes were shinning with pure desire and lust, soon with adoration, to the way his thin silver necklace was shimmering into the light of his apartment. Everything about him was mesmerizing. He was like a spider and she was the fly from his web. Caught.

That's why when he demanded her to kneel in front of him, she didn't waste a second before her knees hit the clear wood of his floor. Staring up at him, she softly blinked, giving him big doe eyes, waiting for the new comand. Yoongi groaned. "Fuck, Y/N, if you keep on giving me these doe eyes of yours, staring at me like that, in such a shameless position, I am gonna cum into my boxers, I swear!" He confessed, making her cheeks flush even more, but same time, a proud feeling to grow inside of her chest. "Is that so, Yoongi?" She asked, using a honey like voice. The next thing she knew, was his veiny hand wrapped around her throat, once more that night, choking her hard. She gasped for air, eyes wide opened, her smaller hand wrapping around his wrist. "It's daddy for you, little one." He demanded, making her heart flutter and her cunt to clench around nothing.

To be honest, even if he was mad because that Jungkook guy touched her and he was supposed to punish her, he couldn't not think of her limits. He knew such a shitty ex. she had, so he doesn't want anything else but to love, apreciate and pleasure her. But, when he saw the sparkle from her eyes at the hear of the D word, his half hard cock almost twitched into his pants. "Yes, daddy!" She said, a smile spreading on her beautiful face. ('cause you're beautiful ♡) He almost laughed, she was so cute. How was he able to punish her now?! Letting go of her throat, he trailed his fingers up her neck and jaw, caressing her bottom lip with his thumb. He watched her pocking her pink tongue out, to touch the tip of it. Yoongi shivered, feeling the coldness of her saliva on his digit. He closed his eyes when she took the small length of his thumb into her mouth. Feeling the warmth of it, he couldn't stop imagining how would he feel if that was his dick instead of his finger.

He could feel the precum, leaking down on his cock, wetting the dark material of his Calvin Klein boxers. Yoongi opened his mouth to say something, but almost moaned out loud when he felt her cheek stroking on his cock, through his pants. Exactly like a kitten. "Damn it, you're such a baby. Wanting daddy's cock so much to actually end up stroking your cheek on it, knowing you don't deserve to have it between your pretty lips yet?" He teased. Her eyes fluttered shut, a new wave oh heat reaching her already dripping cunt. She never belived someome can make her this wet only by some dirty talk. And she knew Yoongi will tease her about that. And honestly she couldn't wait for him to undress her and feel her wetness on his own fingers. Oh how she would lick them clean if he wanted that. He got her so submissive and only by demanding her to call him a specific nickname and restricting her movements. But could she complain about that? No. She wanted him, ever since he first kissed her, ever since he comforted her that that when her ex showed up and he kicked his ass, then he hold her into his arms while she was crying. He was careful and kindly with her, she liked him a lot and she hoped he does the same, because she was willing to obey him like a good girl.

She stared at his left hand, her eyes widening. He was holding a belt, his own belt and a pair of cat ears. He scoffed, amused by her reaction. With determination, he wrapped the belt around her neck, tighting it, to make her gasp for air. He softly placed the ears on her hair."Look at me!" He said, pulling the belt so she was staring up at him, her hands resting on his thighs. She stared up at him with teary eyes. "Fuck..." he cursed under his breath. He mentally thanked that fan who once gave him these cat ears.

"Can't anymore, kitten." He hissed, staring to go to his bathroom,pulling on the belt, forcing Y/N to walk behind him, in all fours. She whimpered when he stopped and sat himself on bed, his bulge visible. She licked her lips, reaching down between her thighs, her clit aching for so pressure. "Tsk, tsk!" He said, pulling on the belt back, completly taking her air, the other hand fisting her hair, throwing it back so she will look into hid eyes. "After this, Y/N, you'll be all mine. Don't touch what is mine. Fuck, you were all mine since the beginning." He growled, kissing her hard. Millions of butterflies filled up her stomach, while her heart started to beat faster.

She was quick to answer him, parting her lips for taking his tongue into her mouth, welcoming it with hers. The kiss was sweet, but still had notes of possessiviness. Their tongue danced together, tasting each other's mouths. His huge hand was cupping her smooth cheek. Pulling her between his spreaded thighs, the hand holding her hair went down to smack her exposed ass, causing the sound of skin on skin to echo the room's walls. A silent scream coming from her was absorbed by his mouth still devouring hers. Another smack, followed by another one and another five, making her moan into his mouth. "At least this short black dress you chose is good for something else than capturing that fanboy's stares!" He pointed out, smacking her already red ass cheek once more.

When he considered it was enough, he was quickly to unbotton his black suit pants. Y/N was starting to get dizzy, but oh how she didn't mind being choked to death by him. But Yoongi pulled away, leaving her gasping for air. She stared up at him. The devil himself was staring down at her, a huge smirk playing on his face. She blushed, bitting her swollen lips, eyes trailing way to what his hands were doing. She gulped down, mouth watering of the sight of his cock. It was hard, the vein of it poking out, making her imagine how it would feel under her tongue. The mushroom head of it was red, almost purple, begging to be sucked on, precum leaking down his length, who, to be honest, wasn't a small one.

"D-Daddy..." she whispered, whimpering when he strated to pumo it up and down with his right fist. "Yes, princess?" He asked, amused by the way her eyes were following his every move. "C-Can your princess suck you off, please, daddy?" She asked, using her softly voice, because she knew such an effect it has on her daddy. When he pressed the tip of it on her lips, she didn't waste time, she sucked the tip of it hard, swirling her tongue around it. Yoongi's hips jolted up, making his cock aventurate further into her mouth. He groaned, loving the way it felt. She looked up at him, raising her eyebrows, wanting to pull back, for enjoying this moment as much as she could. But Yoongi pulled on the belt around her neck, pulling her further on his length. The tip of it reached the back of her throat. She closed her eyes tight, gagging around it, not expecting it so deep that quickly.

"Fuck..." he moaned lowly, keeping her head to his base. "Take it all, like a good kitten, baby." He said, keeping her head to his base, nose pressed against his pelvis, until her throat stopped squeezing around it. "Good girl." He moaned once more, slowly rolling his hips in and out, forcing her to suck his member. "Hips up, babydoll."

Raising her hips up, she moaned when his hand reached down to her wetness. When he hummed in aprovement, she stared up at him, blushing once more that night. "Such a dripping little cunt we have here. Should I take care of you, little one?" He asked, rethoricay. She tried her best to nod her head.

Sucking harder on his long member, she closed her eyes, moaning around it when he ripped her lace panties and two of his digits entered her cunt. Her walls clenched around them, causing him to almost cum into her mouth. He slowly started to pump his fingers in and out of her, tessing her tight hole, enjoying the way her walls were squeezing them.

She moaned, tears wetting her cheeks. When she felt like the pleasure couldn't reach a bigger level, he burried them deepr, curling them straight on her g-spot. With wide eyes, she tried to pull away, expecting him to stop her, but, apparently he was too busy with playing with her clenching hole. Y/N gasped for air, loud moans coming from her lips. Rolling her hips to get more pleasure, she started to feel her orgasm aproching. Another series of his fingers thrusts into her cunt, bruishing over her sweet spot and caressing her warm walls plush the feeling of his dick twitching into her mouth, caused her core to spasm, her first orgasm that night washing over her, thighs shaking, eyes rolling back in pleasure.

"In all fours." He simply said, not giving her time to calm down. At this point, all she wanted to do was to cum and make him cum. Y/N crawled on the bed, in all fours, under the stare of the mint haired man. "Good girl." He praised her, planting a kiss on her wet pussy, making her jump. He chuckled lowly. She heard the sound of a pack being opened and when she turned her head towards him, she saw him wrapping a condom aroubd his hard cock. He winked at her, making her turn her head again.

"You ready, baby?" He asked, pressing his lips on her spine, while unzipping her black dress. She shivered, nodding her head, only for him to pull on her hair, throwing her head back. "Answer me, kitten!" He hissed into her ear. "Y-Yes, daddy!" She whimpered, tears forming to the corners of her eyes.

A short scream coming from her, a low and long groan coming from him, both echoed the room, when he entered her wet cunt. He pushed down to base, leaving her time to get used with his size, busying himself by caressing her belly and pressing kisses on her bare spine. She moaned, her walls squeezing his cock desperately.

"D-Daddy...feels so good. Please..." she begged, making him press a kiss on her head. "Yeah?" He asked, rolling his hips, causing his dick to slip between her walls, deeper. She moaned, closing her eyes. "Y-Yes. I feel so full." She mumbled, moaning loud when he started to buckle his hips in and out of her, keeping a fast peace. The way he was making her feel was almost too much to take. She never felt this stretched out like now, with his cock pushing in and out her princess parts. The knot into her belly was fastly forming once more, making her moans to grow louder and louder. Slipping her dress off of her shoulders, she took his hands and pressed them against her breasts.

Yoongi groaned, squeezing the soft flesh into his hands, rubbing and pinching the buds betweem his thumbs and index fingers, making her whine in both pleasure and pain. "You're so perfect, babygirl..." he whispered, pushing her flat on bed, spreading her thighs with his own ones, a new angle that gave him a better acces to her g-spot. Yoongi's peace slowed down, his movements becoming sloppier and sloppier. Short but deep thrusts, accompanied with sinful hip rolls, were making Y/N's head grow light. "O-Oh, d-daddy...am gonna cum..." she warned. Kissing her temple, he took her hands and tangled their fingers with his. "Cum for daddy, my love..."

He sound of him calling her his love, the moans and heavy breaths he was making into her ear, the praises and kisses he left on her skin, all of them made the knot inside her belly explode, sending her over the edges of pleasure.

"Yoongi-ah!" She screamed, her body shaking under him, cunt clenching hard, making it hard for him to move anymore, forcing his own orgasm to vanish over him. He burried his face into her shoulder, bitting the skin of it and then kissing it, muttering a "mine". He remained there, cheek pressed against her spine, thumbs gently stroking her hands, until their breaths became regular again.

"Yoongi?" She asked, making him humm in response. "I love you." She mumbled, making his heart beat faster and his belly to fill up with butterflies. "I love you too, my little kitten." He whispered, kissing her temple, rolling on one side and pulling her to his chest, for spooning her.

After some minutes of silence, when he thought she's already fallen asleep, she asked. "Yoongi?" "Yes, my love?" He whispered, resting his cheek on hers.

"I think the collaboration will work well now." She said, making him laugh.

Author's note: hi, my lovelies! I am finally back! I moved to online school so I hope I'll have more time to wrote now! I know I posted this ff one month later than expected, but I really had no time to edit it. I even deleted parts and rewritten it so yeah. Anyway! It's here now, please enjoy!!!! Thank you, @milktaetae95 for your patience!!!💜 I hope you enjoy it!

#bts #yoongi smut #yoongi × reader #agust d character #idols collaboration themes #model!jin #manager!namjoon #makeupartist!taehyung #kendotrainer!jimin #fanboy!jungkook #danceteacher!hoseok #dom yoongi #sub reader #don't repost or copy my work

76 notes · View notes

littleholmes · 3 years

Note

12 , 21, and 43 for the ask thing pls!!

Yay! Thank you for asking @sebastianv05 :D I love asks and get them few and far between so thank you! These are ramble-y but here goes!

12. name of your favorite playlist? this is hard because I stream music a lot, and my fave playlist at this point doesn't have a name per-se because I tend to listen to either entire albums, or one of the 6 daily playlists. Right now through, the personally curated On Repeat would be the playlist that I think sums up what I listen to the most streaming wise in my iTunes though, one of my favorite playlists that I created myself is called Fuse that's mostly alt rock

21. obsession from childhood? Easy, Titanic. Not the movie, though I do love that movie, but the ship itself. I had so many books about it, and I can still tell you random facts like how it was 882 1/2 feet. I've been to two Titanic museums and even convinced my orchestra director in HS to schedule us to go to a Titanic museum when we went out of state for a performance. Part of my fascination with archives and getting an information science degree was so I could be an archivist and work to preserve artifacts from the wreck. It fascinated me then, and even now it still amazes me, that it's basically being eaten under the sea by the rusticles (actual term!) that are on it. Like those rusticles are alive and they're essentially eating and growing and will destroy it. And how by visiting the wreck, it's contributed to its quick decay and it's currently protected and excursions are limited to it to protect it, at least I think iirc. I'm rambling but yeah, Titanic is my OG obsession that's still with me.

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

It's a tie between cardigan and hoodie with leather jacket in a very close second. Inside life I live in oversized hoodies/sweatshirts and cardigans, when I worked in person I almost always had a cardigan on (typical librarian I know but oversized cardigans are my weakness). Outside life, if it's cold enough then I'll have the leather jacket bc it's form-fitting and I look flippin' amazing in a leather jacket (esp. bc I live outside life in black jeans or leggings and boots until it's too hot).

#monique answers things

1 note · View note

ibeatfor · 3 years

Text

evolution

3/24/21

I live by the mountains

And it wasn't even by design. It just so happened that this small little place within my budget was by the foothills of the Angeles National Forest.

It was not even a year ago when a picture of me and my then husband J was immortalized in the local newspaper as we stood arm in arm watching the fire fighting being conducted on the fire raging in our "backyard".

I remember seeing the flames atop the mountains and within a hair's breadth, witnessing in awe and horror as it raced down the spine of the mountain. I think subconsciously I knew we weren't in any real danger as it hadn't crossed the street but I think I must've tugged on Inyo's leash to get him further away from the fire, as if the few inches would've made a difference. It's human instinct to withdraw from a perceived threat. His resistance pulled me out of my head and back to reality. We were (relatively) safe, why not check it out along with the bystanders and news crew that had already begun to gather? It's also human instinct to observe -it's why we inevitably rubberneck despite swearing we won't be the one to hold up traffic like that car in front of us. So we went to check it out with the crowd, 6 feet apart of course. Arm slung across each other, mine around his waist and his casually over my shoulder, we stood there watching helicopter after helicopter dump water on the patches of flames. It was this image that the photographer captured. I recall the mountains looking beat up, barren and forlorn after the fire was put out. The black scars from the ordeal showing up starkly against the blue skies made me feel bad for my beloved mountains, how they must have suffered.

Never could I imagine that months later I would be standing in the same spot alone. This time, it would just be my own two arms clasped about my small heaving self, as if to futilely hold back the overwhelming grief, feeling much the same way I imagined my mountains to look back then-beaten up and scarred.

---

So now, some more months later, as I'm out on my daily walk, I'm struck dumb by the patches of greenery that's peeping up from the mountain face. They're scattered and patchy, awkward like a teenager who isn't sure how much space to take up, but they're green and they're there nonetheless. They grow bravely and defiantly, the scars of their ordeal scabbed over by slow growth. Fundamentally I know they didn't just spring up overnight, they've been budding since the fire was put out but it still catches me by surprise. I know this but I can't help but feel taken aback because as often as I've walked this loop, I never noticed it until recently.

I flinch as I reread my past journal entries, notably the one on January 12th. Not because it’s embarrassingly raw (it is) but because it wasn't too long ago that that memory, was my reality. While I may still instinctually recoil from the memory, I can see that I've kept pace with my mountains. They've been the metronome beating steadily in the background and living by them (by lucky happenstance), I didn't realize they were also keeping me on beat, outwardly reflecting our progress in a gradual, delightful blooming of life and healing, healing and life.

When I see the dare-to-be hopeful patches of greenery bathed in the early evening sunlight, it's human, or rather, Theresa instincts to turn my face towards the warmth of the sun, to soak in its life endowing light myself.

---

3/1/21

Red cross, ActiveSGV let- I paused in the midst of compiling my mental to do list. It felt like a lifetime ago when it was all I could do to perform the bare functions of existence. Did I get out of bed before noon? Yes? Good. Did I get out of bed without breaking down? Yes? Now that was a win. Those were hard days. And while I can get out of bed before noon and without crying more reliably now, it wasn’t so long ago that I can look back without flinching at the difficulty of the memory. The possibility of relapsing, of going back to that place, is always there. But when you feel like your life as you’ve known it is being upended, you count even the small victories. I process my observation of my mid-thought with wonder. The idea that I now tentatively have enough emotional and mental bandwidth to even consider doing something else aside from making it through the day without breaking down sends a small thrill down my spine. Now that was the win of the month!

2/19/21

We’re creatures of habits. So when it’s a habit you’ve known for years, it’s disorientating to shake things up. This past weekend was my first road trip with R and it was enjoyable, despite my initial dread over embarking on a long journey on a Friday of a long weekend (the irony hasn’t escaped me). While it was a great first road trip together, it was also…kind of weird. Even broaching the idea of taking the trip in the first place and then planning it felt strange. I didn’t know how to navigate through these uncharted waters because I’m so used to road tripping with J. We expected to adventure on long weekends because we had established that expectations years ago. It never crossed my mind that we wouldn’t go somewhere on a long weekend.

So while I enjoyed every moment of my first road trip with R, I admit J was on my mind more often than I’d like. It was as if I was leading little Theresa forward by the hand but she kept glancing back at the past, reminiscing on how I used to do x, y, and z with J. The contrast between then and now often induced feelings of loss, longing, and heightened the sense that something was amiss, like I was going against the natural order of things. From past experience, I knew that there was only one place these devious thoughts will lead me to if I left them unchecked. So before we went down that rabbit hole, I’d give her hand as much of a reassuring squeeze as I can muster and doggedly plod on with her in tow -partially because there’s nothing else to be done at this point but mostly because I want to move forward. I can’t say with much degree of certainty that things will be better ahead, but I’d like to (have to) believe they will be.

Initially I tried to convince her not to look back and to keep her eyes always ahead and when that failed, I tried bargaining with her to not look back as often. Eventually, I relented. I allowed myself to look back as often as I needed to and that offered some relief, I was able to free myself from the guilt and the need to always keep my eyes forward.

Learning grace is part of fighting the good fight and that weekend was a prime learning opportunity. I allowed myself to look back and gave myself permission to feel everything -the discomfort from what feels like a physical wrenching of myself out of a comfortable habit and familiarity, the longing for the familiarity, the excitement of the newness, and hell, the plain strangeness of the newness. I’m learning there is space and that it’s okay to hold contradictory feelings. After all, when I’m not an Olympic medalists in mental gymnastics, I’m really a plant with more complicated emotions.

---

1/12/21

Sadness accompanies me everywhere. She trails me.

The death of a dream is always heartbreaking.

Some times I gasp aloud from the pain.

It's not your heart that aches, not for me at least. The pain is a dull, slowly pulsing pain that's nestled right underneath my heart.

I stay in the house until I can't and then I walk, heading north, until I can't. On 1/12/21, I make it as far as the northern grass patch before I have to sit down.

The sun sets as quickly, the sky flares up as quickly as I'm overcome by the pain

I wonder if I appear drunk, crunching leaves and walking until I double over.

Idk who I'm glancing around for but at this point I wouldn't mind a hug from just about anyone.

---

1/1/2021

Rustle, click, thud

I settle in the car with a rustle of clothing and plug in my phone to charge with a smart click. As the phone snaps onto the magnetic phone holder with a light thud, that’s when it usually starts. At night in cold Ole Faithful the rustle, click, thud are the sounds of my thoughts preparing to play themselves out, like the din of middle school orchestra students warming up to play. I used to dread it in the beginning, the thud signaled the arrival of unbearable sadness. Unbearable sadness was like a sharpshooter that always hit the swollen sac of sadness nestled in the hollow behind my breastbone dead on every time. The burst sac would release a mixture of pain that would flood throughout my body to the tips of all my extremities, reaching every nook and cranny. Oftentimes, I’d barely make it down the street before I’d outwardly uttered an unbidden sob and hunch over the wheel in what felt like physical pain, clutching it with all my might, the tears streaming down my face.

But now that the sadness is a little older, and maybe my tears haven softened up its heart, unbearable sadness is now just sadness and sadness stands outside the passenger door waiting patiently -but ever so ominously- for me to invite it inside. I know better than to keep it waiting so it is with slight resignation that I nod my permission and it settles in and buckles up, a faithful companion on my ride home from my nighttime forays. When I come from my mom’s house which is noisy on quiet days, being alone in Ole Faithful with my silent companion makes the silence even louder.

Rustle, click, thud. Tonight, I feel out my thoughts as they parade themselves individually to me and slowly realize that they don’t all elicit as strong of a reaction as they have before. It’s as if my reaction was ammunition and as I became less volatile, the sadness, in turn, became less violent and all consuming -it just sits there. I ease Ole Faithful onto the road and begin my journey home. While I used to dread sadness’s presence, now we sit in companionable silence. I know it’ll be around for the ride for a while.

15 notes · View notes

comrade-meow · 4 years

Link

Soviet anti-prostitution poster: “After the destruction of capitalism — the proletariat will abolish prostitution — the great scourge of humanity!”

In the first part of this series, we deconstructed the notion that “transwomen are women” from a Marxist perspective. In that piece I said that notion is perhaps the most destructive facing the left today, but I’m going to have to reconsider that assertion as we tackle the next anti-feminist/anti-Marxist “big lie” facing the left today, the notion that “sex work is work”. Marxism has always recognized prostitution as one of the vilest forms of exploitation; every major Marxist revolutionary has condemned it in unequivocal terms. The Communist Manifesto openly proclaims that the socialist revolution will do away with “prostitution both public and private.”[1] In her first major work, Nadezhda Krupskaya, described how revolutionary workers, during one night of major labor strikes, also directed their rage at the brothels, destroying eleven of them in a single night.[2] And, yet, despite this damning and overwhelming Marxist condemnation of prostitution, the left has started to drink the “sex-work” Kool-Aid. This ranges from assertions that prostitution (and pornography, which is just filmed prostitution) is just a job like any other to outright proclaiming it liberating for women, a strike against bourgeois moralism! Pimps have become re-cast as “managers”, and johns as “clients”. Some so-called “Marxists” have even come out in support of collectivized brothels under socialism! Unsurprisingly, most of these declamations are being made by men who, distraught that the revolution wants to take away “their porn” and “their women”, are now trying to have their cake and eat it too by twisting the Marxist notion of free love and the Marxist attacks on bourgeois morality to suit their own exploitative ends. In this they are assisted by the “PhD Prostitutes”, well-off bourgeois women, often holding advanced degrees, who engage in prostitution as a lifestyle “choice”. Joseph Goebbels would be proud.

But for now, we will leave these reactionary elements to stew where they are. First, it is incumbent to debunk the central assertion behind all of this, that “sex work is work”. To tear this apart, we need to first answer the question, what is labor? In his first major published work, The German Ideology, Marx defines labor as such:

“The first premise of all human existence and, therefore, of all history, [is that humans] must be in a position to live in order to be able to ‘make history’. But life involves before everything else eating and drinking, a habitation, clothing and many other things. The first historical act is thus the production of the means to satisfy these needs, the production of material life itself. And indeed this is an historical act, a fundamental condition of all history, which today, as thousands of years ago, must daily and hourly be fulfilled merely in order to sustain human life.”[3]

To put it in more succinct terms, labor is the process by which human beings create, and facilitate the use, of products of social value. Does the act of sexual intercourse in of itself have social value? Does pornographic material have social value? The answer is no. Sexual intercourse is not a fundamental human need in the way food, water, clothing, and shelter are. Nor does intercourse in of itself help us interpret and understand the world in the way that science and art do. Intercourse does take on social value when its purpose is reproduction, in that case it becomes reproductive labor. It also holds social value when it becomes a means of interpersonal communication, such as intercourse between lovers, but that is not necessarily labor as it does not produce anything of wider use for a community. In Prostitution and Ways of Fighting It, Alexandra Kollontai said, “prostitutes are all those who avoid the necessity of working by giving themselves to a man, either on a temporary basis or for life.”[4] She is clearly separating it from labor, rather defining it as the last act of the most desperate and rejected members of society. What does prostitution create, then? It creates, and increases, alienation and exploitation of the worst kind. Kollontai also railed against prostitution because it “threatens the feeling of solidarity and comradeship between working men and women, the members of the workers’ republic. And this feeling is the foundation and the basis of the communist society we are building and making a reality.”[5]

But if prostitution is not labor, what is it? The answer is simple. Sexual slavery; contractual rape. Continuing on her points already made, Kollontai reasoned that “Prostitution arose with the first states as the inevitable shadow of the official institution of marriage, which was designed to preserve the rights of private property and to guarantee property inheritance through a line of lawful heirs.”[6] This is a summation of what Engels described in The Origin of the Family, Private Property, and the State; that prostitution allowed for men to engage in carnal relations outside of their marriage. In the society that gave birth to prostitution, women were either the de facto property of men, or their de jure property, as in the case of wives. The prostitute was essentially a slave, with no rights or autonomy of her own; her entire existence was devoted to serving men. This continued in the age of feudalism, where prostitution was highly organized and ubiquitous, in order to maintain the chastity and faithfulness of men’s daughters and wives, who remained their property. But it is capitalism that has brought forth the full horrific nature of prostitution, where now the whole lot of woman is threatened with prostitution if they cannot afford to feed themselves and their families, or pay their bills, afford an education, or any of the other necessities working people struggle to obtain and secure. Again we see the separation of prostitution from labor; the prostitute in capitalist society is the woman who cannot make an existence by labor alone. The prostitute is not even considered a human being, but rather a commodity. They are below even the lumpenproletariat, that great mass that contains both those almost totally squeezed dry by capitalism, as well as the criminal element of society, which are still recognized as human. This is the class to which the pimp belongs to.[7] The pimp is a parody of the parasitical capitalist who profits off the labor of the working class; in the case of the pimp, he profits off the dehumanized woman turned commodity.

The industrial and technological revolutions that have occurred under capitalism have only made the prostitute’s life worse. With the advent of mass pornography, especially in the modern age of mass and instant communication, the prostitute is no longer the commodity of just one john, but of millions of johns, who fuck her by proxy; in turn the pimp’s profits are doubled, tripled, quadrupled beyond anything they ever were. And not just women now, but also homosexual and gender non-conforming men, who as “exiles” from the community of men are increasingly finding themselves subjected to the lot previously reserved almost exclusively for women. Almost every pornography website has a section for “transsexual” porn. In prostitution we see the development of patriarchy and capitalism in microcosm; the mass dehumanization of human beings aimed at smashing our solidarity with one another, leaving us increasingly alienated and isolated, viewing one another not as comrades in a common struggle, but vessels to derive selfish pleasure.

The pro-“sex work” advocates would have one believe that entering prostitution is a “choice” freely made on the part of the prostitute, and to deny this is to deny the prostitute’s “agency”. To illustrate their point, they trot out the “PhD Prostitutes” mentioned above. But Marxists should know better than to take such evidence at face value. The Marxist method looks not at the conditions of individuals isolated from society as a whole, but at the individual within the larger social context they exist in. A study conducted by the Soroptimist International, “an international volunteer organization working to improve the lives of women and girls, in local communities and throughout the world” found that most prostitutes “were sexually and physically abused as children, deprived and pushed into selling sex at age 14, on average.” It also goes on to say:

“In one study of prostituted women, 90 percent of the women had been physically battered in childhood; 74 percent were sexually abused in their families, with 50 percent also having been sexually abused by someone outside the family. Of 123 survivors at the Council for Prostitution Alternatives in Portland, Oregon (an agency offering support, education, shelter and access to health services to clients of all sex industries), 85 percent reported a history of incest, 90 percent reported a history of physical abuse, and 98 percent cited a history of emotional abuse.”

The study also notes that women of color, women from the third world, and indigenous women are even more likely to be forced into prostitution.[8] Additionally “71 percent reported being physically abused and 63 percent reported being raped by a customer. In a rigorous study of pimps in seven cities in the United States, 58 percent of prostitutes reported violence, while 36 reported having abusive clients.” It also challenges the notion that “high-class” “call-girl” prostitution is safer than street prostitution, finding that escorts will be abused by johns at least twice a year. But perhaps the most damning evidence presented in the study to the “choice” argument, is the evidence that “more than 90 percent of prostituted women in various surveys want to leave prostitution, but lack viable options.”[9]

Despite this, the pro-“sex work” crowd insist that prostitution is not contractual rape, because prostitutes are giving their consent. But how can “consent” obtained under economic coercion truly be consent? This sounds like arguments put forward in defense of capitalism as a whole; for example, that workers who do not like the conditions of their work or their wages can always “choose” to get a different job. Marxists rightly recognize this argument as a diversion, because of the external circumstances that prevent individuals from just easily choosing the job they want to do. It is the same with the prostitute; her “consent” is only a passive consent, not the active consent that recognized as being necessary for a truly consensual sexual relationship. The “PhD Prostitutes” who are able to freely choose and screen their “clients” represent an incredibly small minority, and perhaps cannot even be considered prostitutes, but bourgeois dilettantes “playfully” aping the suffering of the classes beneath them.

Similarly, abolitionists have come under attack from the “sex work” crowd, being accused of moralism and puritanism. They argue that criminalization only worsens the plight of prostitutes, whereas bringing them into the recognized workforce through legalization and unionization will ease their suffering. In this first part, they are correct. The criminalization of the prostitute is an expression of not just bourgeois, but patriarchal hypocrisy, because the prostitute is essentially punished for trying to survive, punished for fulfilling the desires of the ruling class. The second part, however, is dead wrong. The countries that have legalized prostitution have seen a dramatic increase in human trafficking, because contrary to the free choice arguments of the “sex work” hypocrites, there exists nowhere near enough women who want to commodify themselves to meet the demand.[10] In Australia and New Zealand, legalization has decreased the agency of prostitutes, and increased the power of pimps, by introducing the “all-inclusive”, a single fee paid to the pimp instead of directly to the prostitute, essentially depriving prostituted women of what little power of negotiation they had.[11] In Germany, a pregnant prostitute was coerced into having group sex with a bunch of men who “wanted” a pregnant woman; under German law, this was perfectly legal. The prostitute in question said she felt like she had no power to say no, as her agency had been usurped by the brothel.[12] Similarly, the “sex worker unions” advocated for by the “sex work” activists are another vehicle for pimps and their supporters to exercise their dominance; the Scarlet Alliance, Australia’s largest “sex worker union” even harassed survivors of the sex industry.[13] Rosa Luxemburg did advocate for the formation of revolutionary unions of prostitutes, but not to “regulate” prostitution, but to smash it. In fact, the advocates of full legalization (with or without regulation) belong in the company of fascists, not revolutionary socialists. The Nazis established an extensive and centralized system of brothels in cities and military camps, as well as in the concentration camps themselves. When Franco seized power in Spain, he overturned the abolitionist reforms of the Republic, and re-legalized prostitution so that men were guaranteed their brides were virgins and not “spoiled goods”.[14]

The most effective method of combatting prostitution has been the Nordic Model, which is made up of two components: 1) The decriminalization of selling sex, and the criminalization of pimps and johns; and 2) The creation and strengthening of state resources, such as education, professional training, counseling, and community support, to help prostitutes make a safe exit from the industry. Countries that have adopted the Nordic Model, such as Sweden, Norway, and Iceland have seen dramatic reductions in prostitution. The Swedish Ministry of Justice found that since the adoption of the Sex Buyer Law in 1999, prostitution has fully halved, and continues to decline.[15] Additionally, no evidence has been found that prostitutes are being forced underground as a result of this policy.[16] And most importantly, not a single prostitute has been murdered by a john since the law came into effect. What the pimps, johns, and their apologists cannot stand about the Nordic Model is that it ends their monopoly on power, and actually punishes their exploitation of women, all while empowering their former slaves. This is why they always try to erect obfuscations against the Nordic Model, even outright crying about how it victimizes the “poor johns”. Some of the more cunning faux leftists argue against the Nordic Model on the basis that it increases the power of the bourgeois state and police; or they claim that there is no use in combatting prostitution since no reform under capitalism will eliminate it. On the contrary, the Nordic Model represents a perfect example of a transitional demand. Trotsky defined the transitional demand as being a bridge between the minimum demands of social democracy and the maximum demands of revolutionary socialism; demands that would allow the oppressed to win not just key reforms, but also to increase their strength and confidence against the capitalist state. Transitional demands are not just calls for reform, but calls for openly revolutionary action that will spark reforms and strengthen existing ones. The Nordic Model is a perfect example precisely because it is a reform that strikes at the heart of the patriarchal and capitalist system; it allows the masses to see just who supports and benefits from prostitution. Eugene Debs, when he was city clerk of Terre Haute, advocated for a kind of proto-Nordic Model, refusing to assess fines on prostitutes, because the police took no action against the pimps or the usually wealthy johns. As for the false concerns about increasing the power of the bourgeois state and police, the Nordic Model, like any good transitional reform, forces the state and the police to actually work for, not against, the people they claim to represent. Would these same “socialists” so worried about the cops being unleashed on pimps and johns have cried the same tears when Eisenhower sent in the National Guard to enforce the desegregation of schools in the Jim Crow south? It would, at the very least, be amusing to see a socialist cite this as an example of giving the bourgeois state “too much power”.

To reiterate, every socialist revolution has struck with the full force of its power against prostitution and the sex industry. Every major socialist revolutionary has recognized the emancipation of women from sexual slavery as one of the basic tasks of the revolution. These “sex work socialists” are more than just hypocrites and revisionists, they are outright misogynistic reactionaries. The degeneration of the revolutionary left in the western world, especially in the Anglophone world is what has allowed these trends to sprout and grow. The pernicious influence of neoliberalism and postmodernism have infected the body of the revolutionary left; slowly eating away at it like gradual poisoning. The Marxist concept of free love aims to eliminate the current patriarchal system of sexual coercion and exploitation, and replace it with a humane and open system of actively consensual intimacy. Those who believe otherwise would best be served by dropping the act, and joining the Libertarian Party, because that is where their politics truly lie. The left needs to remember its mission; the liberation of the oppressed peoples of the world, and take an active stand against the pimps and johns playing dress-up as communists.

#Anglo.txt

15 notes · View notes