#restart reverb

[jellielectric]

I drew restart again🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 (hasnt drawn him in five billion years)

[robozombii]

new animation out!! its reverb on reverb crime, dont think about it too hard

[painonthebrain]

Buckshot roulette au moment

(Guy getting shot under cut)

[heavenly-halcyon]

Should be sleeping but no. Restart au thoughts. Send help

Reverb prides himself on being better than everyone. Stronger, smarter, older, more powerful. But with all that taken away he’s nothing, and that’s possibly his biggest insecurity. Being weak. Irrelevant in some way. Just like his victims, a passing face and a means to an end. Bc when he strips away his violence and hatred and sharp teeth who bite anyone who comes close, what does he find? A fully fledged person? No. There’s bits and pieces, but he’s largely nothing without that.

And it’s worse because even if someone like Arthur who he despises is weak, he’s become comfortable with himself. He knows who he is and what fulfills him. He’s nothing like Reverb, whose life has been upended by his shitty emotions, by attachments and contradicting statements— he may be anxious and weak but he has something Reverb doesn’t, stability.

And it’s even worse because Arthur can see right through him and if anyone knows anything about human limitations, it’s him. Of course he doesn’t feel empathetic though.

Also I’m imagining this HAHA:

“You’re disgusting.”

“I know.”

“No, I meant you smell disgusting. Take a goddamn shower, Rev.”

That would humiliate him forever though tbh... rubbing salt in the wound of Reverb’s human limitations and then sending him off to go take care of them bc otherwise they’ll get worse

Like I feel like Reverb after becoming human is so easy to humiliate bc he’s never really had to practice hygiene so he’s unkempt and gross. Like I feel like he doesn’t stay in bodies that long bc he just possesses people for fear and manipulation but now he’s not possessing anything. He’s trapped.

Human Reverb would still be upset and push people away though. He’s not gonna become soft like humans just because his body happens to be like them now! He’s still got his mind (that doesn’t remember all of his years as a demon, that erased whatever couldn’t fit into his human brain and continues to do so everyday..) and that’s all he needs! If he keeps his mind the same, when he finds a way to become a demon again, it’ll be like nothing ever changed and he can never think about this again!

But of course that’s not how it goes bc his brain also handles trauma and such the same as a human and so seeing the images of corpses he killed while he tries to sleep are not very helpful because when he does, he can’t stay asleep!

Which is a little bit of a problem when he needs that shit to stay alive…

“"Having nightmares again"? About what? What could possibly haunt you so badly after all you’ve done?”

It would be funny if he has nightmares about his body changing into something unfamiliar (sound familiar?)

Oh how I love making the green man sad

[jiminrings]

maybe me

pairing: jimin x reader

wordcount: 9k

glimpse: maybe it’s stupid of jimin to take on everything at once, all by himself. maybe it’s rash of him to book a long-term stay at a luxury hotel, even if it comes with a family discount. but maybe, just maybe, jimin would have nothing to lose and everything to gain if he lets you in.

alternatively, jimin’s a single dad who would do anything for his daughter, even if it means taking advantage of your trust.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]

[ angst, dilf jimin is all over the place but he’s trying his best, wholesome fluff, emotional baggage, allusions to anxiety, moral dilemma regarding stealing, more angst BUT also eventual redemption in the next parts :) ]

notes: peter, the horse The Dilf is here o_O this series is finally out of the backburner and i can’t be any more relieved!! gentle reminder that it gets even more angst from here (so pls take a break when necessary!!) but i promise that there’ll be redemption <3

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even replying to this post sends me over the moon :) | series masterlist

Jimin can’t afford to have pride nowadays.

What he can afford, however, is crippling anxiety as a single dad to his ten-month old daughter and the overwhelming urge to restart and relocate to the big city where the two of them could have a better future. Those two things specifically, plus whatever his daughter sets her eyes on at the grocery store.

“Do you want this, Yuri?” Jimin looks down on her strapped to his chest with the best baby carrier he could buy, squinting at the label of the item she was so fixed on staring upon. “A sixty-six count pack of Ziploc brand sandwich bags featuring Lightning McQueen?”

Jimin attempts to think about it — like really think about it. His mind’s about to drift how Yuri’s already watched a few movies to enrich her brain (maybe talking cars isn’t the best idea yet) and she can recognize when Cars is on because of the ka-chow! he says under his breath whenever Lightning says it. He was just about to think how he could possibly rationalize purchasing so many sandwich bags until he doesn’t have to.

Yuri’s smiling up at him, all with tiny little teeth and dimples, and suddenly Jimin doesn’t have to think anymore; he puts the pack of sandwich bags with talking cars on them (that he has no real use for) in the cart.

It’s a relief that he could still afford these types of things.

Jimin would not stop at anything to provide for Yuri, giving himself a pat on the back for being wise with his money before she came along. He granted himself luxuries before there was her, but nowadays, luxury was merely defined as having the same things that mattered for his daughter. White noise machine with Bluetooth feature, surround-sound, bass boost, and reverb? Check. A crib that you can turn into a co-sleeper then a proper bed when she grows up? Check. A dispenser that warms up baby wipes? Check.

The moment Yuri was born, Jimin was no longer the skilled and reliable paralegal in a high-end law firm. The moment she first cried and was handed to him because his ex didn’t want her, Jimin became the anxious, yet extremely dedicated and loving, single dad.

Either he was extremely smart or extremely impulsive for doing everything he’s done the past week and despite it all, he’s here grocery shopping with Yuri and laughing as she keeps testing her grip strength on whatever they walk past.

It’s as if Jimin didn’t terminate his lease two hours ago and the moving truck he rented is parked awkwardly outside.

It’s as if he doesn’t have the tangible extensions of his and his daughter’s life right outside the store, from the boxes of his clothes to Yuri’s co-sleeper.

Jimin can afford sustaining himself, his daughter, and his quality of living for ten straight months without working. But if there’s anything that the past week has taught him, his worrying akin to when it was Yuri’s first night home and he didn’t know if he was doing anything right, Jimin can’t afford pride.

His phone rings in his pocket and it jolts him, almost making him cuss. He knows for sure that it’s the call he’s been waiting for since this morning, eyes closing in relief.

He can’t afford being prideful because he called the last person he’d ever build up the courage to ask for help — his half-brother.

“Jimin? What’s the matter, are you alright?” Namjoon asks, unbothered to mask his worry. “You called like 52 times.”

They don’t hate each other, they really don’t. They know each other because they lived under the same roof for years. There’s no animosity between them, just the overwhelming feeling of not knowing how to act around each other. 

Between Jimin and Namjoon, there was respect. Perhaps, too much respect and formality that they’ve never breached the territory of acting how real, whole brothers do — warm and unreserved.

But it’s okay, it’s okay now that Namjoon answered. It’s always been okay with them and Jimin doesn’t want to jeopardize that by asking what he’s about to, but he has to take his chances. Whatever it is that his brother says, it’ll be okay too. Everything he’s been doing the past ten months, especially the past few weeks, is all for Yuri.

“Namjoon, you’re the personal assistant of a hotelier, right?” Jimin asks, holding Yuri’s tiny hand for comfort. “A-and you have benefits, correct?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Namjoon breathes out, still a little shell-shocked because he doesn’t know what this has to do with anything. “Are you okay? Is Yuri okay? Why did-…”

“Thirty-percent off for company employees when they stay at any branch of the hotel for less than a month,” Jimin recalls, proving that he was clearly listening the time Namjoon told him about his job. “And fifty-percent off for company employees who want to have a long-term stay.”

“Yes? What does this have to do with your missed calls?” Namjoon blinks rapidly, literally unable to read between the lines because Jimin barely gave him any to begin with. “Is my niece okay?”

Jimin’s heart briefly warms at Namjoon’s acknowledgement for Yuri but he shrugs it off for the meantime, remaining focused.

“And because you’re working directly under your hotelier, that benefit can be transferrable to family, right?”

It takes one, two seconds before Namjoon realizes that his half-brother wasn’t just rambling about his employee benefits out of nowhere.

In the cookware aisle where Yuri keeps pointing at the Le Creuset heart ramekin that he already knows he’s going to buy without a second thought, Jimin proves for the millionth time that losing his pride is no problem if it’s for his daughter’s sake.

“Namjoon, please. I need your help,” Jimin humbly admits. “We’re family, right?”

( ♡ )

Jimin loves hotels.

The moment Namjoon agreed to let him use his employee discount for a long-term stay at the hotel he works at, he hightails it out of the grocery with a lighter aura. Yuri perhaps notices it, being more calm now because as her head is pressed to his chest, she could feel how his heartbeat’s relaxed.

Jimin takes the four-hour drive to the city like an absolute champ, Yuri even more so now that she’s tucked to her car seat and reunited with her emotional support blanket with her name hand-stitched by Jimin himself. It wasn’t the best, really. The stitches are clear but the tension is off, the characters only understandable if you take a good second to stare and tilt your head because the alignment was lopsided. It wasn’t the best but it was Jimin’s best — that’s good enough.

He figured that doing a fifty-percent discounted stay at a hotel, a luxury one on top of that, would be a hundred times better and cheaper than renting a temporary place in the big, expensive city until he could find his bearings. Jimin didn’t need to pay utilities, breakfast would be taken care of, amenities were free, and he didn’t have to worry about the safety of the area; it’s practically equivalent to a vacation.

The moment Namjoon met him and Yuri by the lobby, Jimin feels like he’s been transported back to his childhood home where the couches were lived-in and the floors were warm from the paths of their steps. Namjoon only had ten years on him and yet he was always dignified in his eyes; sturdy to the point of stiff, yet polite when necessary.

Jimin didn’t feel that composed, calculated persona when he saw Namjoon time this though, not at all. With all his worry that he had never seen before on his half-brother, Namjoon embraces him. Fully hugs him tightly and he could even hear a relieved sigh, pulling away when he hears Yuri’s squeal.

She’s smart, that much he’s figured. Could already stand stably on her feet for a few seconds without assistance and say coherent mumbles here and there that would soon turn into actual words. In fact, Jimin just realized now that Yuri could also place faces, recognizing Namjoon whom she only saw probably five times ever.

“What’s with the sudden move?” Namjoon furrows his brows at him, taking Yuri from him without a word and he lets him because his arms were starting to cramp from driving. 

“Came to me in a fever dream, actually. I didn’t know you could have that with two-hour naps even without a fever,” Jimin shudders at recollection of the haunting thought that came to him a few weeks ago. “A talking whale cussed me out and told me I was being a shitty dad by not giving Yuri the best I could.”

“You’re not a shitty dad,” Namjoon corrects him albeit softly, the conviction there but not as energetic because he didn’t want to jolt his niece awake.

“Eh,” Jimin shrugs, lightly laughing upon the realization that holy shit, this is the most unplanned, casual, yet deepest conversation he’s had with Namjoon. “I try my best, I guess.”

Namjoon reserves the other words he has in mind and instead digs his hand into his pocket, pulling out a keycard to the room that Jimin begged him for. “Have you eaten dinner already?”

“Nope. I fed Yuri at the rest stop, was supposed to eat dinner, but then we had to leave early because I remembered that I double-parked,” he chuckles, only dawning on him now when he looks around and barely sees people in the lobby that it was already late into the night.

Namjoon, who’s been itching to go home since four in the afternoon, suddenly lost the pressing urge to crash in his bed despite being ten in the evening. God, Jimin really is selfless. If he felt sorry for him awhile ago when he suddenly called him for a huge favor, he feels even more sorry now. The weight of Yuri in his arms reminds him that this is all the weight and more that Jimin’s carried alone for ten months and counting, heavy enough to make Namjoon think that holding off from going home a little longer wouldn’t hurt.

“I’ll call room service up for you. Your dinner’s on me,” Namjoon softly smiles, genuinely, and Jimin could almost pass out from the fraction of the brotherly warmth he— they could’ve had all this time if only they became close. Not just okay, but actually close.

“Thank you, Joon,” Jimin slightly bows, a force of habit that his half-brother wants him to get rid of. He’ll tell him off eventually, but not now when it’s clear he’s had a long day.

Barely thirty minutes since Jimin stepped foot into the hotel yet he could already tell that his stay here would be undoubtedly life-changing. It’s a new experience; a new, terrifying yet ground-breaking experience for him and Yuri to go through, but atleast they have each other.

When Jimin feels like drowning, Yuri drains the water for him.

The moment he taps the heavy metal card to the door, Jimin sighs in relief and thanks whoever is listening. The room exceeded his expectations and more, making the mental note to appreciate it later and instead instruct the bellman where to put the boxes for now with a gracious tip. Jimin still has so much things to unpack, calls to make, and arrangements to handle, but when Yuri yawns, he’s reminded of his first priority.

He sets her down for now on the middle of the large and pristine bed, unpacking and installing her co-sleeper first before changing her. Jimin could only hope that Yuri doesn’t take the drastic difference of environment too roughly, but nonetheless, he comes prepared because he’s already stacking the fridge with the coffee he brought.

When he sees Yuri sleeping soundly in just a matter of minutes (even without the white noise machine), Jimin knows he did a good job today.

He did a good job doing everything that he had to do in the past month and unexpectedly, so did Namjoon by being the reason to why Jimin could not stop gushing at all the free stuff he could take home.

The only problem at the moment is that home isn’t defined, but he’ll just have to worry about it tomorrow.

Jimin gives himself too many pats on the back for even thinking of the accommodation. Even the hair and shower products here were luxury, none of the unbranded, minimalist (is it really minimalist or is there little thought and budget put into it?) products that some hotels carry.

In fact, the sudden reprieve Jimin has from having the most stressful 72 hours he’s had after some time makes him feel invincible. Oddly brave. Oddly too courageous that before he knows it, he’s turning the hot water on and even more oddly, doesn’t rush his shower; even has the balls to exfoliate properly and put a leave-on body mask.

He’s fifteen minutes into his sudden self-nurturing moment until he hears Yuri squirming around, a murmur here and a low gurgle there.

Then she really starts to cry.

It’s the type of cry that makes him want to redo the last fifteen minutes and turn on the white noise machine before he went to go shower. It’s the type of his daughter’s cry that makes his stomach sink because it reminds him of the inkling feeling that shit, maybe he is a bad father. The type that makes him rethink of the sudden move and his performance as a dad the past ten months.

Jimin suddenly feels panicked again, the lavender and cotton scent of the mask on his scalp turning cloying to him as soon as he hears Yuri sob.

“Yuri, baby? What’s the matter?” he yells out as if she could answer, cussing himself under his breath. 

“I-I just-! Appa just put on his scrub! It’s the leave-on type!” he yells out again for her to hear past the thick glass pane, having hope when her cries decrease in volume. “Five minutes? Can you give appa five minutes, Yuri? Please, baby?”

Jimin gathers his wits, strengthening his resolve. His plea was basically useless because Yuri cried even louder. The 4-7-8 breathing method he used to do when he stumbled on dead ends when researching case material as a paralegal is barely helping now, trying his best to ignore the sinking feeling of inadequacy.

His mom told him about this before. Yuri’s at that age where she just cries because she wants to! It’s okay, Jimin. She needs to know that she can soothe herself!

Five minutes, okay. For five minutes, Jimin would remain in the bathroom and try to relax, letting Yuri gather her bearings and soothe herself. Five minutes won’t hurt that much.

He’s jittery inside and now he doesn’t even get to be awed at the luxury shower products doing wonders for him, instead worried how Yuri will do in the 300 seconds she’ll be left alone.

It barely registers to Jimin how this must come across to the guests around him. He’s immune to Yuri’s cries to the point that he doesn’t fully grasp just how loud she can get.

You aren’t. You’re not immune to the cries at all. 

You’re only supposed to be making your rounds before you go home, an unneeded routine that you do anyway because lately you’ve been procrastinating driving back to your own house.

You’ve just gotten out of the elevator when you hear a baby crying so loudly and clearly from the end of the hall that you just can’t ignore it. Even the room service staff who’s coming from the other hand is just as surprised, his cart coming to the direction anyway. Your assistant, Namjoon, personally instructed him to bring food to the door.

You’re a familiar figure to the employees, obviously because you’re the hotelier and come from a famous family of one. It wasn’t exactly the norm for the actual head of the hotel to do the rounds herself or appear and oversee operations regularly in general, but what shocked your employee the most was that you heard it too; it wasn’t just a trick of his mind that there’s a baby loudly crying through the soundproof walls.

“Why’s nobody soothing the baby?” you wonder out loud, brows knitting in confusion. You’re worried, that type of cry coming from a baby, or any cry in general, anchoring a sinking feeling on your chest.

“I-I don’t know either, Miss,” Seokjin, his nametag reads, replies. Not only is he worried about the baby who just won’t seem to stop crying, he’s also nervous because he can’t believe the hotelier is talking to him directly.

“Could it be that no one’s there? Just the baby?” your mind runs, bottom lip trembling. Situations like these worried you beyond explanation, your heart softening in recollection. “I-I mean, what if the baby isn’t okay?”

You wait for two minutes. You and Seokjin freeze and wait for two minutes and the crying still doesn’t stop, setting off all the alarms in your head that it makes you dig for your own card in your bag.

You screw your eyes shut and tap the master key, hoping that you’re in the wrong and not right about thinking of worst case scenarios. As soon as you open the door and quickly scan the room, you’re relieved when you see a cute baby crying her lungs out on a co-sleeper. You come to her just in case, holding her up and assessing for any indications of what could’ve made her cry this hard.

There’s luggages, boxes, and shoes. Chelsea boots that clearly don’t fit a baby’s feet.

Oh.

You’re in the wrong.

Jimin emerges from the bathroom with a towel on, still dripping wet. He thought his fatigued mind was playing tricks on him when he heard the door click, but as soon as his eyes adjust and he sees you, standing in his bedroom holding Yuri; someone he does not know at all holding a keycard different from his — he loses almost all sense.

“Who the fuck are you?! Why the hell are you holding my daughter?”

Your eyes widen, not only because you misread the situation completely and there’s a half-naked handsome guy in front of you, but also because you let your instincts overtake you again — this time overstepping into a guest’s room.

Jimin thinks your face is familiar but he can’t focus on that when all he could do is panic, his mind all over the place that he only belatedly realizes that Yuri has stopped crying since.

“Why are you— no, who are you?” you return the question, your panic for what the situation seems like suddenly returning.

“What the fuck? Did you just break into my-…” Jimin’s veins are about to pop out when he tries to register everything — from the way you’re dressed elegantly and sophisticatedly not like the employees, to your keycard being a different color than his yet managing to open the door, to how you’re just as concerned as he is and not trying to flee.

Oh.

Jimin thinks that he contributed to you doing your wrong.

“Miss Y/N!” 

Namjoon’s voice bellows from the hallway, letting himself in after Seokjin quickly filled him in on what happened. He’s sweating and heaving, wild eyes flickering between you and Jimin, and then Yuri now that she’s suddenly awake, throwing her a little wave.

“Namjoon?” you and Jimin ask at the same time, staring at each other.

The two of you no longer look hostile but there’s more questions raised than there are answers given, your gazes syncing to look at Namjoon who’s still catching his breath.

“Oh, I see,” your assistant breathlessly chuckles, nodding to himself. “I-I see. I think I know what happened here.”

“Do you know this guy?” you’re first to ask, a hesitant look flitting to the man who’s still half-naked and dripping wet in his towel.

Namjoon nods, straightening his posture before looking pointedly at Jimin. “Yeah. Jimin, this is our hotelier — my boss,” he emphasizes, coughing and gesturing to his lack of modesty that it prompts aforementioned to cross his arms, unintentionally highlighting his defined biceps.

“Miss Y/N, this is Jimin,” he smiles, trying to diffuse the tension. You and Jimin both want to sink to the floor out of embarrassment, leaving Namjoon the odd one out because he knows now that his plan of coming home in the next five minutes is soiled. “He’s my half-brother.”

.

.

.

You admit that it’s rash of you to enter yourself in the situation. You may have overstepped your boundaries as both a hotelier and a stranger, but that didn’t necessarily mean you wouldn’t attempt to save face.

“So you’re her dad? Can I see some ID?” you clear your throat, finally being able to look him in the eye when you turn because he’s not only covered by a towel this time.

Jimin shakes his head, half in disbelief and half in amusement. He doesn’t even have to prove anything to you at this point, already being verified by Namjoon and yet for some reason, he still indulges you.

He runs his hand through his hair that’s still damp, walking across the room to get to his wallet and fetch his driver’s license.

“Her name’s Yuri and yes, I’m her dad.”

Yuri?

The name puts a knot on your throat, the melancholic taste of it making you cough. You just freeze as you always do, eyes still staring and hands still grasping Jimin’s ID.

Your eyes focus after a few seconds, having to physically shake your head to get the thought away. Looking at it, you have enough proof that he’s just so handsome even against the light in shitty license processing offices.

“And the baby’s?”

“Yuri’s identification?” Jimin clarifies, eyebrows furrowed because your question doesn’t seem that rational to his brain. “Yuri’s ten months old. She doesn’t exactly have a driver’s license yet.”

“Fucking dumbass,” Namjoon mutters, knowing that Jimin was completely serious and not joking at all. In fact, he looks slightly appalled more than he is concerned because he just swore while carrying his daughter (he does it too sometimes), but gets over it when Namjoon fills in the very large gaps in his thought process. “Birth certificate. Miss Y/N’s pertaining to Yuri’s birth certificate as her identification because of course, she can’t exactly drive a four-wheeler yet, yeah?”

If Jimin notices that this is the first time Namjoon’s been beyond casual, perhaps even snarky with him, he keeps his excitement at bay.

“Oh! Yeah! Birth certificate, I have that. I have that,” Jimin trails, looking for his binder of Yuri’s important documents. They all sit right inside the bag he used to take to work, his most prized law documents that used to occupy the space just stored inside random boxes now. “Right here.”

It’s a little sad, seeing that Jimin’s entire life and his daughter’s by extension fits into this standard hotel room.

Something about the scene incites pity from you, regardless if Jimin doesn’t want it. He looks composed at face value if you were to block the mess that’s happening around him, his charm undeniable. 

The whole day’s been heavy on him, his night even longer. He’s better after his long-overdue, makeshift, and unexpected pamper shower with a surprising twist of events.

Namjoon didn’t want to leave the two of you alone because he’s quite literally the buffer, but even before he glanced at the side of your face with the same sentiment he uses at your drawn-out meetings, you already knew when to leave.

“I’ll be taking my leave. I’m sorry, by the way,” you excuse yourself, turning your head down in acknowledgement. “Thank you for choosing to stay here. I hope it’s up to your standards.”

“It’s — oh, oh! No need for that, please,” Jimin quickly corrects you once he recognizes your tone of remorse. The whole incident happened just fifteen minutes ago and yet he already moved on from it; he wishes you could too. 

Come to think of it, it’s slightly funny.

“Good night, Jimin,” you smile slightly, your intent being mirrored instantly.

“Good night, Y/N,” he chuckles, a split second decision to not use the same title Namjoon uses for you because he’s not your employee. Speaking of, he brings his half-brother to a side hug, using it as a handoff so he could get Yuri back in his arms. “Night, Joon.”

You make a mental note to give Namjoon an incentive the next day, knowing that he’s been worked to the bone from this day alone.

The baby in Jimin’s arms sleepily wakes up for a moment, looking at you with big, shiny eyes that held the happiness to her dad’s heart before she settles back.

The tiny smile sneaks to your lips before you could even think about it, hand twitching at your side to give her a little wave even if she’s already asleep.

“Good night, Bambi.”

( ♡ )

You make your rounds even if it's unneeded, the exceptional hotel managers you've hired easily being able to do this for you.

But there's something about overseeing that you like; something to do about being able to observe and do things about it.

You’re a dedicated descendant of a family who heads a large hotel conglomerate, trivially committed to getting in touch with day-to-day operations — perhaps boredom is synonymous to dedication.

Namjoon says it’s nice having you around here, boosting team morale and all. Your hotel’s known for you being seen around by guests as if it’s a normal occurrence, a different experience from all the other hotels they’ve been in.

It may be nice having you around but you know to yourself that you’re unneeded around here. That this place would just run fine without you. Having the higher-up casually fill up Excel sheets is unusual, but it isn’t groundbreaking. Namjoon tries to convince you otherwise but you know when he’s trying to butter you up.

Trivial is the word when you take the scenic route to go to the hotel breakfast and see how things are going. Silly is the word when you line up to get your eggs benedict when you could’ve just turned any of the kitchen staff to your beck and call.

Surprised is the word when the guy in front of you turns out to be Jimin, his head turning to greet you fully because he recognized you from the corner of his eye.

"Oh, hello!" Jimin greets, Yuri flush against his chest with a baby carrier. He’s still dressed in his sweats but looks graceful nonetheless, as if he’s always lived here. "It's me, Jimin. The guy with the crying baby yesterday? You met me while I was wearing a towel."

He wishes you remember him still because your eyes look unsure, but to his surprise, you laugh lowly.

"Yes, Jimin. Hi. I didn't exactly forget you."

Yuri vocalizes with joy, reminding you how pretty she is especially when she’s awake and not shrieking. She’s always attached to the hip with her dad, making you wonder if Jimin has a stroller that he could set her down at.

"Sweet," he grins, tilting his head so Yuri can play with his hair gently. She’s learning the careful grasp nowadays, his hair a worthy enough subject. "By the way, I have some serious concerns."

Jimin gestures for the both of you to step out of the line but you do it even quicker, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

"Is your daughter okay?"

He’s pleasantly surprised that your train of thought heads to his daughter first, a faint blush gracing his cheeks.

"Yuri? Of course! I'm concerned about her but this doesn't exactly concern her," he waves off, bouncing her up and down. She calls for him, repeating abba (it should be appa!) in glee but the P sound’s gonna come soon enough. 

"It concerns me. Well wait, now that I think about it, it concerns her, y'know? Because it has something to do with me and I'm her dad so by extension, it concerns her. Actually it's-..." Jimin stops himself, exhaling with his eyes downcast in embarrassment. "I'm rambling."

“It’s okay,” you assure him, hand twitching at your side because the sleeve of his shirt is twisted and you have this unspeakable urge to fix it, but he beats you to it. “I have all the time.”

Jimin chuckles heartily at that, but you don’t know exactly what was so funny about it. He walks ahead of you to lead you to his booth, Yuri’s diaper bag placed on the middle of the table to act as his reservation.

He makes sure to have you seated first. He was about to even pull a chair for you but it’s a goddamn booth, further embarrassing himself so he resorts to just putting his hand out.

"The hotel breakfast," Jimin sighs with a shake of his head, strapping Yuri to her high chair. "Do you plan to switch it up?"

"I'm sorry?" you stutter, expecting everything but that.

"Apology accepted, but not wholly," he purses his lips, squaring his shoulders and clasping his hands together while he stares at you intensely. It stays like that for awhile, making you confused for different reasons at the same time. Jimin breaks when you blink at him slowly, almost as if you’re close to tears from thinking.

"What's up with the same menu for breakfast again and again? The scrambled eggs are cute but I've been feeling the butter in my throat too much now," he says all in one breath, chest deflating in relief once he got it out.

You remain glued to your seat, lips parting open briefly but you don’t know what for because you’re rendered speechless.

"Here's what I'm thinking," he murmurs, holding his hand out for Yuri to play with because she likes feeling included in conversations. "French toast and naan. It'll be a hit with everybody!"

He’s been thinking about this for the past two mornings, daydreaming of what you could do to improve the menu while he spoon-fed his daughter.

"About the naan, what if there's a separate table dedicated for making your own dipping oil? Oh, oh, and I suggest a table for baby puffs! Not only would the babies love it, but adults too. I snack on Yuri's puffs when I'm too tired to cook. It's amazing, you should try it!" Jimin gushes, rifling through the diaper bag to retrieve the familiar packaging. "Here, open your hand."

"Jimin-" you snap out of your unintentional bout of silence, once again being pushed into it when Jimin grows impatient and pries your hand open with delicateness yet the same amount of eagerness as his daughter.

"Eat first." 

Jimin still doesn’t let go of his hold on your hand, angling it to pop the puffs right into your mouth. He lets go of it once he sees you tentatively chew (you have no other choice but to), happily humming as he hands one to Yuri before he treats himself to some.

Surprisingly, baby puffs do taste good.

Your attempt to be prim and proper while chewing a godsend delicacy almost goes down the drain, willing yourself to clear your throat and not sound too amused.

"I'm not the chef around here."

"Okay?" Jimin scoffs playfully, narrowing his eyes. "You're the hotelier. You can make it work."

Jimin’s suggestion is not… trivial. It makes actual sense. He did bring it up to you in such an unorthodox and forward way, but past that, you know where he’s getting at.

"Believe me, changing up your breakfast menu will have your hotel named as the best in the world."

"It already is," you murmur. You do want to become humble, but condensing the whole excellence of your hotel to a mere breakfast menu makes you a little bit defensive.

"Source?" he raises his eyebrows, prying your hand open once again to put some puffs on your hand and you don’t even have the pride to deny him; they do taste good.

"Architectural Digest. Condé Nast Traveler. The-..."

"Wrong," Jimin boos loudly. "You forgot me. I haven't proclaimed it yet.”

Endearing would be the word for Jimin. Annoyingly endearing. He’s not cloying but he does invade your senses, even from a distance. He smells like baby powder and talks like the two of you have known each other your whole lives.

"I wonder how you react when your coffee order's wrong," you tut, pressing your tongue to your cheek.

Jimin breaks out to laugh, setting off Yuri to do the same. You don’t feel like you’re intruding — you feel like you’re included. Their eyes crescent and their heads throw back, and if only you had the chance, you’d take a picture of them for him to keep.

"I said, trust me. Take it from a paying, long-term tenant in your hotel,” he soothes you with his words, waving you off jokingly once he got over his fit of giggles.

"You've only been here three days and you're utilizing Namjoon's fifty-percent off discount."

"It counts," he gasps. "Take it from me as a girl dad. As a hot, stressed-but-still-hot, single dad of a baby girl named Yuri."

"Okay, hot single dad of Bambi," you smile, ignoring the fond yet slightly confused look of Jimin at your nickname for his daughter. "I'll think about your input."

.

.

.

"The dining area's gonna be rearranged?"

Namjoon looks up from his phone, the groupchat he was in that you weren’t a part of (your employees are still intimidated by you) pinging repeatedly.

He skims the messages, the furrow in his brow going deeper. "I'm also gonna say that the menu should be changed everyday?"

"Yes, Namjoon."

"Miss Y/N," he clears his throat, trying to word his thoughts in the best way possible but falling short. "Since when were you so interested about free hotel breakfasts?"

You look up from the game on your phone, a little break that you granted yourself because you were getting a little cross-eyed from looking at company projections. 

"Since your brother cornered me to give some very passionate inputs about our breakfasts, that's when."

"He did what?" Namjoon’s eyes bulge, his phone almost falling from his grasp while he attempts to get out of your office in an instant. "Excuse me, I just have to sort-…”

"Ah, easy," you chuckle, gesturing for him to stay inside. "It's okay, he didn't offend me that much."

"Still. Jimin just has little filter to him most of the time and-..."

"It's okay, Joon," you shush him, reaching across your table to get your snack bowl. “Baby puff?"

Namjoon’s still wary but he looks down on your outstretched palm, taking it from you. He’s still a little agitated and dazed when he puts the tiny puff in his mouth, the crease on his forehead relaxing.

"Oh. That tastes nice."

( ♡ )

It's in the rooftop garden that you see Jimin and Yuri again.

Eating breakfast with Jimin and Yuri has recently turned into a routine, the hour and a half of conversation in the morning conditioning you to look for them more and more. He did get the french toast, the naan, and even the baby puffs that he asked for and more. You were a part of their mornings as much as they were in yours, the two of you in opposite sides of the booth while Yuri was at the end of the table with her high chair.

You unconsciously seek them, unbeknownst to yourself that you started looking for two familiar mops of hair at every facility in the hotel. Mornings were your common denominator, the rest of the day reserved for each other’s hectic schedule. 

Jimin’s been busy being out and about looking at open houses, doing a job search on the side that’s still in line with working in law but would allow him to work remotely and on flexible hours. He wants to hold off working until Yuri turns one year old, but the truth was that he just can’t keep doing this up without a stable career. 

He seeks you unconsciously too, looking for a familiar figure that’s dressed in true high-end clothes without the obvious logo. He deducted that wherever Namjoon is, you were too — Jimin barely noticed that he’s been texting Namjoon more frequently now, specifically if he wants to hang out during his break and where he is.

When you see him, Jimin's clothed in a thin sweater while Yuri's bundled up, knowing a cashmere sweater when you see one. 

"No one's allowed to be out here this late."

Jimin doesn’t have to turn his head to know that it’s you, having expected for you to approach him because your breakfast earlier was cut short because you had an urgent meeting to attend to. 

"I know, sorry. I suddenly couldn't read when I saw the sign," Jimin apologizes  insincerely, accompanied by his chuckle that’s uncharacteristically low tonight. ”By the way, I didn't pick the locks or anything. I took the fire exit."

"I figured,” you hum, looking down the both of them. They’re sat by the edge of the pool, Yuri placed gingerly on his lap with her socks on (he’s not gonna risk it) while Jimin’s sweatpants are folded upwards haphazardly, his calves dipped into the warm water.

You hesitate if you want to intrude in their moment because after all, this is the only time the two of you are alone outside of your usual breakfasts. You feel like you don’t fit in, still in your fancy work clothes and in your heels while Jimin’s dressed for sleep.

He senses your hesitation, looking up at you as you’re still in thought. Jimin fishes a spare towel he keeps in his pocket (in case the usual towel he slings on his shoulder for Yuri no longer does the job) and lays it beside him, not wanting you to get your clothes dirty.

The night’s cold but you’re so warm, looking down on the towel with much appreciation in your eyes that Jimin chuckles and just nudges you to sit down already. He puts out a hand to set your glass down that he’s seen you nursing while walking throughout the floor at this time of the night, the smell of it familiar.

"Yuri was fussy. Gave her a bath, changed her diaper, warmed her a bottle, sang her a lullaby, checked her socks. Nothing worked," he explains even without you asking, cradling his daughter to the crook of his neck. "Went outside the balcony for fresh air but there was someone smoking next door."

You’re about to apologize for something you didn’t do but Jimin interrupts you, glancing upwards at the sky that he hasn’t taken the time to look at for so long.

"Ta-da. Rooftop garden does the trick."

"Scotch?" you hum while offering, your glass with a tall serving of it already halfway finished. Jimin shakes his head, a shaky sigh leaving him.

"Can't, I'm on the clock. Have been for ten months," he says it matter-of-factly but the undertone of melancholy doesn’t leave it, looking down back at your glass. “You can drink around me if you want to, though. I don’t mind.”

You smile tightly, grasping the glass in your hand but turning away your head as you take a sip because you didn’t want to rub it on Jimin’s face. He looks at the back of your head as you do, stifling laughter because you do it so quickly since you didn’t want to be disrespectful.

When you turn back, Jimin’s gaze is back at Yuri, the way his eyes sparkle still apparent in the dim lighting.

"She's pretty,” you mumble, admiring the way she looks angelic even with faint tear tracks on her cheeks.

"Thank you. All from me," Jimin quips, running his thumb on her cheek as he resists the urge to bite into them because he’d wake her up. “I’m glad she looks like me."

The question is just hanging over both of your heads in the thick air, his reply being the perfect introduction for you to finally ask. You’re not in the position at all to ask about it, but in the same way Jimin beckoned you to sit right next to him, you felt that it was right.

"How about her mom?” you whisper, looking down on your rings to avoid his inquiring gaze. "If she looked like her mom, would she still be pretty to you?"

Jimin knew you were going to ask him eventually about the other, yet absent, person in the equation, but he didn’t know you’d ask him this way — a question if he would still love Yuri if she didn’t look like him.

He nods solemnly, looking down at her. ”Of course. She's my flesh and blood, my daughter. She'd still be pretty to me, even if she looked like... the woman who birthed her."

"Sorry," you apologize once you register Jimin’s tone that isn’t light as it usually was. "Sensitive topic?"

"I've moved on," Jimin smiles albeit bitterly, never quite reaching his eyes. "I hope that when Yuri gains consciousness, she moves on too."

It’s a prayer he makes even if he isn’t particularly religious. It’s a wish upon a shooting star in a sky he barely looks at. It’s too much to ask for, to hope for, but Jimin still does nonetheless.

"Moving on is tough, though," you answer, running your finger along the circle of your glass. “Some people don't move on at all."

"Not when it's unfair," Jimin pokes his tongue to his cheek, a pained scoff leaving him. “Not when it's cruel."

Jimin’s a dam that just endures, taking typhoon after typhoon. He reserves and represses and in odd moments, in crucial and unguarded instances, Jimin catches himself slipping.

"Yuri’s mother doesn’t want anything to do with her," he speaks thickly, hand moving to cover her ears even if she’s sleeping and yet to comprehend. "She’s the heiress of her parents’ law firm. Also used to be my girlfriend of five years, actually," he laughs without the humor behind it, pursing his lips at the thought.

“She’s a lawyer. I’m a paralegal that knocked her up.”

"Jimin,” you call him when you feel that his gaze goes too far, too disconnected to realize that he’s here now with Yuri well and safe in his arms. It may be only his arms that cradle her, but it’s with love that fills in for two people and more.

"Is that Japanese scotch?" he suddenly quips, peering to your glass. He seems pleased when you confirm his guess with a gasp, smiling to himself at the minuscule victory. "Can I have a sip?"

You nod, offering your glass to which he’s eager to take. He’s just about to when he realizes that there’s a weight on his lap, one that wouldn’t blend well when he drinks.

"Can you uhm, can you also hold her while I drink? Just a little, I promise."

Without even thinking of it, you agree.

You take Yuri into your arms and press her to your chest, not having Jimin to correct you on how to hold her because you did it correctly and she didn’t even fuss.

"I'm here because I'm in between things. Haven't worked for ten months, sold my apartment to try and relocate to the city, I need to figure out where we are going in life because Yuri's turning one year old soon, and my backup plan doesn't sound too bright,” he confides in you after he takes a sip of alcohol, the all too familiar yet distant burn in his throat washing him over in nostalgia. It hits him harder than he expected.

"What's your backup plan?" 

"Live in a cruise ship because the cost of living is cheaper."

"That actually sounds kind of smart,” you chuckle in delight, shaking your head. Jimin does tend to think out of the box, you easily bet that he was an excellent paralegal before he had Yuri.

"Yeah, except the fact that I get seasick easily and I'm scared of the ocean."

The admission of his fear pries an unexpected laugh out of you, covering your mouth as to not jolt Yuri awake.

"Not funny," he deadpans but the amusement on his face is visible. “You know how I want to take Yuri to an aquarium so bad but the aquarium glass for ceilings terrify me?"

You snort, visualizing an image of Jimin shaking his boots looking at stingrays overhead him. "Her Uncle Namjoon can take her then."

"He can, but I don't want to be indebted to him more than I already am,” he sighs, having considered the idea before.

"She's his niece,” you reason, the sentiment behind it already apparent.

"Only half."

"He loves her, though. I can tell. You can tell," you shrug, the solution in your head still unwavering. “He told me about Bambi a couple times already. Even before you went here."

"He does?" Jimin sounds genuinely surprised, schooling his expression to look unfazed. It’s apparent to you that the both of them don’t know each other closely. “He loves my daughter because she's his niece; of course he would. But as brothers? I don't think we're quite there yet."

You make a noise of disapproval, knowing genuineness when you see it. You know to yourself that Namjoon’s a sincere employee and an even more sincere person.

"Are you older or younger?"

"Younger," he answers, furrowing his brows because he senses that Yuri’s bound to wake up soon. “My — our mom remarried after his dad died.”

You can’t react accordingly because true to his instinct, Yuri does fuss. The way she fusses makes it known to Jimin that if he doesn’t take her back to their room and on her co-sleeper, she’ll fully wake up and throw a tantrum.

"That's enough of my baggage for one night, don't you think?"

He concludes it at that, looking at you with a somber smile. He exchanges your scotch for his baby, skillfully standing up before helping you do the same. You dust off the towel he lent you but he waves it off, telling you to keep it the next time the two of you talk like this again.

Jimin’s an enduring planet and Yuri’s a young moon, the way he looks at her enough for you to know that she’s lucky to have him as a dad.

"Good night," Jimin bids you goodbye, pressing Yuri's forehead to his as if they’re telepathically exchanging thoughts. "She says good night too."

( ♡ )

Jimin's reminded to never drink again after just five sips of scotch.

He woke up with an existential crisis, something that hasn't him in a state this bad before. He's raising his ten-month old daughter alone, there's neither an apartment nor a house attached to his name, has no job, and he's living in a hotel.

It makes Jimin claustrophobic, making him realize that he's close to the end of his wits and probably has been for a long time. Has he really been this lost all this time? Has he really been acting this pathetic despite having a daughter to raise alone?

It's so hard to breathe, carrying Yuri close to his chest on top of that. He smells her hair to try and ground himself, but even the scent of his daughter mixed with his perfume barely does anything to calm him.

Then he gets the call from his dad. He’s so numb; the tips of his fingers prick with electricity but he doesn’t feel, his ears ringing at yet another reminder of one of the multiple responsibilities on his shoulders.

"Jimin, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," his dad sighs remorsefully. “They're calling me in for some tests again."

Right, Jimin almost forgets. He's supporting his dad secretly.

It was a dire situation, something that only the two of them know. Three if you count Yuri and her attentive eyes whenever he's on the phone.

His dad's been feeling sick for quite some time now. No one's quite sure of anything, making the whole process complicated and extensive; whatever it was, it's only between him and his dad for the time being.

Jimin was sure of two things — a) that his mom has a frail heart and hearing about a possible threat to his dad's health would be detrimental, and b) that the funding should come from him because at the end of the day, Namjoon shouldn't be responsible; after all, Jimin is his father's son, not Namjoon.

It's overwhelming, just so overwhelming that as soon as Yuri fusses as soon as she wakes, calls him appa with a B, and lightly cries, Jimin does the same.

She must be hungry, making him go on autopilot to prepare her bottle but when he opens the tin, he sees more of his distorted reflection inside the cylinder than the actual formula. 

Fuck.

Jimin prepares Yuri’s bottle anyway, a lump stuck to his throat as soon as an idea forms in his head. Neither the lump nor the idea leaves him and it pricks the tears from his eyes more, keeping his daughter preoccupied because now she suddenly stopped crying to observe his instead.

He’s chipping at the ends and the very core of his whole mind is raw. All he has are doubts and insecurities and the way Yuri looks at him, like she trusts him even if he’s hugely lacking as a dad, doesn’t console him.

Jimin comes down and meets you as per usual, giving you a side hug and coming into the booth with ease as if there's no tension in his shoulders and in his mind. 

He thinks he’s doing a good job at acting casual but you could see how vacant he looks, his eyes missing the usual glint of playfulness that he bore. You give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that it’s his fatigue from the night before; maybe it’s just the hangover from the few sips he had from your drink.

"You and Bambi look a little rough," you observe, piping in as soon as he settles down. “I’ll fill our plates. Just sit here."

Jimin looks at you with an unknown emotion, eyes wide and glassy. You can’t read him and neither can he, the brief moment of vulnerability being cut short when he thanks you.

You walk to the tables, filling the tray with two plates for you and Jimin and one bowl for Yuri like it's clockwork. It's easy for you to fill it all up from memory, to adhere to a routine you've built in just the three weeks you came across Jimin and his baby.

It's hard for Jimin though.

It's hard because this one particular thought never leaves him, the only one he ever had as a solution to quell the anxiety he has that peaked just this morning. 

Your bag's right on the table; small, open, and expensive right in front of him, taking your position while you get breakfast for him and his daughter.

Jimin screws his eyes shut, taking several exhales that don't even placate him. He looks outwardly casual, dipping his hand in there as if he's just looking for mints and as if he's known you enough to literally stick his hand where it doesn't belong. As if you trust him.

And that's the thing — you do trust him.

Jimin spots your wallet and opens it as if it's his own. Counts the bills mentally as if he's just counting ducks and takes half of it, thumb swiping quickly. He’s never done this before.

Yuri somehow knows because as soon as Jimin's thumbs through your banknotes, all of them in the highest denomination, her bottom lip trembles, a shrill cry following soon after.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m sorry, Yuri,” he whispers, screwing his eyes shut. God, this is wrong and yet he can’t stop. “This is bad but it’s a justified bad. Don’t be like appa. Don’t steal like me, okay?” 

He whispers the last part because even he can’t fathom himself actually doing it, chest becoming heavier by the second. He folds the money in half and stashes it inside Yuri's diaper bag, heart still beating erratically even if he’s already hid it.

“Appa's taking care of a lot of things a-and things are tight, especially with your grandpa's situation, y'know? And you’re running out of formula and we need to stock up before there’s a shortage again," he explains, voice trembling as well as his hands.

Yuri isn’t soothed, however. She throws her head back while calling for Jimin again and again like she’s the reflection of his conscience — his conscience that he’s already tainted the moment the idea went into his head.

“Don’t cry, Yuri. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Y/N, fuck,” he whispers over and over again, the tears in his eyes threatening to spill whenever he repeats your name.

You come back with the breakfast, barely noticing anything except that Jimin looks even more spent than five minutes ago since you last saw him. Yuri had already started calming down before you approached the table and stopped completely when you set her bowl in front of her, your eyes curious to why Jimin can’t even meet your gaze.

You realize it later, when you fish your card from your wallet because you need Namjoon to run some errands for you.

It's lighter, barely noticeable. The set of bills you've had in it isn't as thick than the last time you saw it, but you could easily chalk it up to you seeing things, or lack thereof.

It hits you completely when you see your crumpled withdrawal receipt in the bottom of your bag instead of your wallet, having a habit to use the paper as a makeshift clip for your banknotes. It would only sink to your bag if somebody had touched your wallet and took your money; it couldn't have been you because after all, you haven't done anything today that required you to pull out your cash.

Then you know when you have someone pull up security footage for you.

You see it clearly despite the slight grain; Jimin and his hands inside your bag, casually rummaging through it as if you're good companions and know each other.

The thing is — Jimin doesn't know much of you.

The security technician is appalled, even more appalled than you are and huffs when he follows your gaze. He's about to press on his radio and bark out orders when you gently put your hand before him, solemnly shaking your head.

It’s okay.

It's for Yuri. 

You keep to yourself, thanking your employee before you gather your things and exit the room.

Namjoon's been looking for you and he's a little perplexed to why you would go to the surveillance room of all places, catching up to you as you walk across the grand lobby.

At the corner of your eye, Jimin enters the hotel, holding a sleepy Yuri and a plastic bag of what you can discern to be his daughter's needs.

Jimin tries to catch your attention and attempts to walk alongside you and Namjoon — you pretend not to notice.

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

4!!

Send me a number

WARNINGS: drug use (weed), cheating, p in v!

She just couldn’t stop staring at him. Him and that fucking pink beanie she knew she would probably never get back. She could never look at Harry again without her mind flashing back to what happened a few days ago.

...A FEW DAYS BEFORE…

“You’re still here?” Harry spoke making Y/N gasp, her hand flying up and landing over the spot on her chest where her heart was pounding from the scare Harry had just given her.

“Jesus…” she answered as she calmed down and he grinned at her.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” He excused himself as he walked further into the control room of the studio where Y/N had been for a better part of the day. She was helping with the editing and producing of his long anticipated third album. It was fucking good so far, “It’s nearly 2am.” He informed and she groaned.

“Damn, again?” She asked through a whine and he chuckled and nodded in confirmation. This was the third day she’d just been sucked into the editing, but when you find a flow it’s best not to stop.

“What track are you working on?”

“Daylight. I’m just about done actually, was about to give it a final listen if you want to hear it? Think I’ve managed the perfect balance.” She said with a proud grin and he nodded at her invitation and she handed him the headphones and she restarted the track on the software for him.

He immediately smiled at the slight reverb she had applied to the keyboards at the start, giving a dreamy and wave-like illusion that made his head bop along almost immediately. Everything was sounding exquisite as he sang long lowly. The levels of the vocals were completely balanced and god, the harmonies in the second verse. They gave almost a surround sound experience from how she had arranged them. He reached for the volume dial and turned it up, which made Y/N grin and his eyes widened as the electric guitar bounced from ear to ear right before the bridge.

“Oh shit!” He exclaimed as he banged his head along to the heavy instrumental. Even with all of the loud sounds the vocals came through clearly. It was perfect. Harry sang along quietly as the song continued and started winding down and finally ended. He pulled off the headphones with a huge smile, “You killed it, Y/N! That’s so fucking perfect, Tom’s going to lose his shit when he hears this tomorrow.” Harry exclaimed excitedly.

“Yeah, you think so?” She asked a bit timidly and he nodded.

“Hell yeah. I love it! You did really good!” He complimented her work again, “Understood the assignment 100%.” He assured her and she giggled. Tom had said that the main thing he wanted was a good sound balance with this and she had done that.

“I aim to please.” She shrugged with a small smile before letting out a long breath and standing from her seat. Harry’s eyes followed along the length of her body as she let her neck roll back and her arms reach up high in what looked to be a most delicious and well deserved stretch. Her shirt rode up a bit, exposing her skin which was soon covered in goosebumps. Fuck, he wanted her so bad.

Y/N was absolutely beautiful. She had been traveling around with his little production team to various places as they worked on this album. Tom thought that she had a very keen ear and a promising future with some mentoring and well, he wasn’t wrong about that. The quality of her work was always top notch. Harry wouldn’t normally interact with production and editing as much as he was now, but with this being a team of 4, sometimes 5 if Mitch was able to join, everyone did a little bit of everything and she had been teaching him a lot about the technicalities of music. He’s yet to hear her play or sing something, but if Tom & Tyler had advocated for bringing her along he was positive that her talent was incredible.

She was still a bit closed off, she was rather mysterious. Y/N hadn’t fully come out of her shell even after they’d all spent months together. Harry wasn’t going to lie to himself and say he didn’t have a crush on her or even the hots for her at times, but he needed to be professional. They were such a small team that he couldn’t afford to fuck this up. Not making a move was becoming a struggle for him though. He then talked himself down for a while when he found out that she wasn’t single, but the more he got to know her slowly he started to not give a fuck about that.

“Do you want to have a smoke?” He asked out of the blue and she glanced down at him.

“Sure.” She said and soon she was heading out to the terrace of the studio they were holed up for the next few weeks.

The night was a bit cool and she looked up at the night sky as she waited for Harry to return with his little weed bag. He plopped down right next to her, providing her some much needed warmth as their arms touched and he then pulled out a pre-rolled joint and sparked it up before handing it off to her where she took the first hit of it. He tried not to stare at her mouth, but it couldn’t be helped. She then passed the joint over to him where he too inhaled slowly and carefully, holding it in for a moment before letting out. They sat silently for a bit, passing the joint back and forth. They were about halfway through it when she started feeling the effects of it tickling at her gently. She started to giggle out of nowhere and he glanced over to her with slightly droopy eyes before he caught the giggle bug too.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, my brain tickles.” She giggled and he laughed at her description of what the drug was doing to her. In all fairness, she was exhausted. They laughed a bit more as they chatted and bantered about what she had just said. “Oh shut it, you’re such a pest.” She huffed out with an eye roll.

“Am I?” He asked with a lazy grin.

“Yeah, H.” This was the first time she had called him that and he loved it, “A real thorn in my side.” She joked and he chuckled.

“Have to be. Can’t have you forgetting me, now can I?” He asked and she just turned her head towards him and smiled.

“Impossible.” She hummed and he felt his heart flutter as her eyes traveled down his face and unmistakably settled at his mouth. “Does it feel weird to have a mustache?” She changed the topic completely and he smiled at her when their eyes met again.

“Not weird…But it does take some getting used to. Like when I lick my lips and feel hair there it like throws me off sometimes.” He explained and she hummed.

“Always found mustaches a tad offensive but you’re changing my mind on that.” She determined with another glance down at his lips. "You kinda make it hot." she giggled and he smiled, thanking the mighty heavens that it was nighttime and she couldn't see his blush.

"Yeah?" he asked turning his body completely towards hers and she nodded.

They continued talking in close proximity as they finished off the joint and soon started making their way back into the studio. Brushing shoulders as they walked down the halls. Harry's warmth was like a gravitational pull, or maybe that was his cologne that made her question her self-restraint. She wanted to just nestle against him and breathe him deep. How she wished that it was him intoxicating her mind, not the drug they'd just smoked. But she was taken... she shouldn't be thinking this. Maybe it was just because she was high. They stopped at her bedroom door and she glanced up at him, bidding herself not to do anything stupid.

"Wanna watch a movie?" she asked and he nodded. With that she opened up the door and they stepped inside of the dark and cool room. The made their way in quietly and as soon as she closed the door Harry stepped up to her and grabbed her face gently in his hands. He let his nose skim down hers lightly before latching his lips to her own. She gave in far too easily. His lips were so soft and warm as they moved with hers.

They eventually ended up in her bed panting hotly into each others' mouths as she rode his cock. She was settled in his lap as his arms were hugged around her, blunt nails pressing into her shoulders as her fingers tangled themselves in his curls. He was bigger than she was accustomed to and it made her hiss when she'd drop her hips down into his. He was so deep, it would shoot a little tinge of pain through her but it felt too good to stop. Harry was obsessed with the way their chests were pressed together, he could feel how hard her nipples were and it made him want to suck his mark around the pert little buds.

"Oh fuck." he groaned, tossing his head back, letting it bang into the wall as her walls clamped tight around him, "Fuck Y/N! Gonna make me come so hard, baby." he panted and she moaned as she latched her lips to his neck, careful not to leave marks as she kissed at his hot skin. He then fit his hand between them to rub at her clit and she started to wither.

"Harry!" she whimpered, her moans started to get louder the closer and closer she got to her end.

"Shhh, shhhh, shhh..." he warned, "Need you to stay quiet, baby. We have'ta be quiet." he whispered and she shut her eyes tight, "Fuck, come for me, baby. Give it to me." he panted as he felt her start to tip over the edge and her mouth opened in a silent cry, head tossed back as she gasped before letting out a high pitched squeak as she starting coming. The pleasure was shaking her body and he kept working her through it, completely mesmerized by the way she looked and felt. God, she was fucking perfect. She quickly lifted herself from his cock and stroked at him until he was grunting her name along with curse words as streams of his cum spurted from the tip of his cock and ran down her fist in warm, thick streams as they kissed ardently.

After cleaning up a bit they passed out. And early in the morning Harry woke up and buried his face in her cunt and fingered her until she was squirting for him. His hair was a fucking mess from the way she had been pulling at it. And he immediately started making out with her, grinding his clothed cock against her throbbing center, just about ready to take her again when they faintly heard the call of his name at a slight distance. He immediately shot up and she bit her lip nervously when they heard it again. Tom was looking for him. He couldn't know.

"Shit, shit, shit!" he cursed lowly as they sat up.

"The window." she said, "It doesn't have a screen." he nodded and pulled on his t-shirt and shorts as he rushed over. "Wait, your hair is a fucking mess! Dead giveaway!" she whisper-shouted, "Here." she tossed him her favorite hot pink beanie and he fixed it onto his head before rushing out. He flashed her a grin before rushing off and she quickly shut the window.

...FLASHBACK OVER…

As much as she felt her heart fluttering wildly with a need for him she felt guilty too. She had cheated and she didn't regret it. It wasn't his fault, she could've stopped him, but she hadn't wanted to. They hadn't talked about it since it happened.

"Y/N. what did you think?" Tyler asked her and she let her thoughts about her situation fade away as she plastered a smile on her face and nodded.

"Yeah, that's good." she assured Tyler and then she looked to Harry and nodded in confirmation of her decision on the song they were working on.

"Sick, let me go grab Tom so we can show him." Tyler said excitedly and hurried off and she bit her lip nervously when Harry fully turned to her. She stayed quiet and he made his way over. It made her so nervous as he took her hand in his large ones, caressing over it gently.

"D-do you...do you regret it?" He asked her with concern and she shook her head.

"That's what scares me, I think? I'd do it all over again." she admitted and he took a quick glance around before dipping down to kiss her. Their lips met eagerly before they broke apart quickly.

"Come to my room tonight? Like 10:30?" he whispered and she nodded and he kissed her once more and then rushed back to his original seat when he heard Tom and Tyler approaching. Y/N pulled out her phone to feign busyness and opened her texts and immediately felt her stomach sink at the unread message from her significant other.

Hey sweets, haven't spoken in a few days. I know you're busy, but can we FaceTime tonight? Like 10-10:30? LMK Love you!

Y/N read over the message again a few times and bit her lip nervously. Then she saw a message come in from Harry as Tom and Tyler rushed in and Harry moved from the seat before the monitor, watching as she read over his text.

Pick a number 1-5.

5?

You sure?

She glanced up to him and he looked to her and she nodded before typing it out.

Yeah, I'm sure.

Alright, that's how many times I'm gonna make you come for me tonight.

Once with my fingers, twice with my tongue, and twice on my cock. Can't wait to make a mess of you, baby.

She felt her face burn as the blood rushed up to it as her body started to tingle. She was turned on now and when she glanced up to him he was grinning smugly at her and she groaned softly as she typed furiously.

THORN IN MY FUCKING SIDE.

She typed and then put her phone face down and as Harry read the words he grinned and slipped his phone in his pocket. This would be fun.

[browser5]

Oh I also have a brother

Bridget has invited her family over to come see their new home. They make themselves comfortable, as Adam comes home from work.

Adam:

Honey, I'm home!

Bridget:

Hi Hubby, I'm in the kitchen!

Adam walks over, embracing and kissing his wife to be, as he feels a lingering presence.

Meera:

Aww, I remember when we started out as a couple

Adam, shocked, shrieks backward and looks over as he sees Bridgets parents sitting at the table, the mother happy and the father questionable.

Adam:

Wha- When...I didn't know you were coming.

Isaac:

We dropped by to see how you two are living together

Meera:

Actually, I wanted to see how Bridget has decorated the place

They bicker and talk as Adam stands there, not knowing what to do.

Adam:

I'm gonna freshen up and change, I'll be right back

They continue chattering as Adam backs out of the room and goes up the stairs to their bedroom. He sits on the bed for a minute, to catch his breath from a hard day at work. He moves to their bathroom, stripping naked to take a shower. Adam starts scrubbing his defined body, when the door opens and quickly closes.

Adam:

Babe? Did you come to give me some company?...You freak, your parents are downstairs.

He chuckles, but the only answer that comes back is a pained groaning and a nice wet fart, loud as a gunshot.

Adam:

...Hello? What the-

Adam opens the shower curtain, to see a young man shitting in his toilet, his eyes closed and looking concentrated, but pained.

?:

*pushing sigh* Hey Adam...*stomache grumble* oww

Adam:

What the fuck?? Why can't you knock I'm in here?!

?:

Can you chill? *Reverbing gas* I'm trying to relieve myself here *strain n shooting drops*

Adam:

*sniff* pfhoa oh my god, what is with you guys? Who even are you?

Shane:

*chunks of diarrhea* I'm Shane ouf Bridgets younger *strained* brother

The younger man was blushing as Adam was staring baffled at him as there is a knock at the door.

Isaac:

Shane, your phone was ringing...boy did I not tell you go before we leave home!

Shane:

No! Why the fuck would I stink up my own bathroom, I don't have high tech ventilation like you guys!

Waterfalls of shit flow out of Shanes ass and the stench of pure diarrhea flows trough the bathroom. He leaned forward and held his stomach as the pain of his burning hole showed on his face.

Isaac:

Phew maybe you are lactose intolerant or something. Maybe we should get you checked by the doctor.

Shanes dad sighs as his stomach starts to growl and he lets out a vibrating fart which makes Adam jump.

Isaac:

Damn that was more than gas...hurry up Shane, dad's gotta throw some kids into the pool.

Adam:

Can I please finish showering first?

The two look over to Adam, who still stands in the shower, trying to unwind and being interrupted by B's family, flooding every toilet they can find. A second passes before a quick pulse trough Shanes stomach restarts the gas exhaust. He exclaims in grunts as he farts louder and louder. Adam, annoyed, closes the shower curtain and goes back to his shower, trying to ignore Shane blowing out the bathroom, to no avail.

Isaac:

Alright I'll leave. But don't break this toilet, I still need it. Do flushes in between.

Shane:

I already tried, it's backed up with my chunks.

Isaac:

*growling* then fix it

He closes the door and they are together alone once again. His stomach starts growling like a werewolf

Shane:

*grunt* ugh So, Shower sex huh? Doesnt really sound very roman- tic...

Another wave of diarrhea flowed out of Shane’s ass as the wretched smell of fresh diarrhea continued to fill the bathroom causing Shane to gasp a little,he was surprised at the power and smell of his own dump. Adam gagged, he wanted to ignore Shane and rush to finish his shower and dash out as quick as his feet will carry him but he didn't wanna start drama between him and the Browns

Adam:

Umm, Yeah...we do it from time to time. 

Shane:

*plop* *grunt* O-Oh I see. You better be using protection! She sure as hell isn't ready for a family or kids yet!

Adam:

O-Of Course we use protection!

Shane whined and moaned as he let out a few chunks of shit followed by a loud bubbly fart

Shane:

Okay I'm done now, I think dad was right about me being lactose intolerant. We had a few sundaes before we left. *sniff* The smell is definitely gonna be here for a while though, sorry.

Shane looked away in embarrassment as he grabbed a handful of toilet paper and started frantically wiping his ass until it was clean

Shane:

I'm gonna bail now,see you later Adam.

Shane swiftly left the bathroom not even trying to flush the toilet, as he knew he has completely wrecked it and it wasn't going to be flushing properly anytime soon

Adam:

Thank god that's over,ugh it's going to take forever to fix the toilet. Why do all the brown men shit like bloody monsters!

Adam groaned in frustration as he got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist,he was about to leave when Bridgette's dad, Isaac, suddenly burst through the door,knocking Adam back in the process

Isaac:

Outta my way boy,I gotta hit the can. Tonight’s dinner is really running through me.

Adam:

Well you're going to have to wait until I unclog the toilet first,Shane totally destroyed it

Isaac:

Can't wait, gotta bomb the bowl

Before Adam even had a chance to respond, Isaac quickly undid his belt and dropped his jeans. Before he could even fully plant his hairy ass on the toilet a chunky wave of diarrhea flowed out of his ass and splashed into the toilet, he sighed in relief

Isaac:

Mmmh I think me and Shane are both lactose intolerant *drop* oh definitely, must be that damn ice cream from earlier 

Adam:

Dear god the smell is even worse than Shane’s!

Isaac:

Well the men in this family have a history of wrecking toilets up and it all started with me so you're gonna have to get used to it if you wanna be apart of this family Adam

Adams father-in-laws voice was stern and he suddenly had a serious look on his face as he let out a booming fart followed by another wave of diarrhea,the smell from Shane’s blowout was now mixing in with current smell, the toilet bowl was being filled up to the brim and Adam’s eyes started to water from the stench

Isaac:

Guess you could say I'm the king of the throne in this family,I destroy toilets and other people deal with it. I wonder if you'll be able to deal with me and the boys destroying your toilet on a daily basis...if you can't that would be very troublesome for the future

Isaac stared down Adam, with a random fart interrupting the silence. who was just standing there speechless,it was like a predator staring down its pray before attacking and eating it

Adam:

I'm done showering, so I will leave you to your business...yeah, just call me when you're done and I'll call a plumber to fix the toilet

The only answer Isaac could give him as he was leaving, was a straining grunt and crackling from his ass, as a long shit snake was coming out. As Adam closed the door and got dressed, he was able to hear Isaac breathing out in relief and deep dark farts. He wonders if he'll ever be able to use his own toilet again or if they need to replace the entire thing.

[afpwestcoast]

Meow Wolf, Santa Fe, NM, 5/26/23

Amanda Palmer returned to Meow Wolf seven years after playing an epic show with Jason Webley for the Grand Opening. This time she had Brian Viglione in tow as the Dresden Dolls opened a 3-night stand at this amazing venue. To get just the merest hint of how unusual this venue is pay attention to the backgrounds in the photos below.

I bumped into Amanda cruising the gathering crowd in her pre-show kimono and when asked what she was doing she replied, “I’m looking for a victim.” “For what?” I asked.

“My affection.”

Alrighty then. I generally just go with stuff like this and it (usually) becomes clear (eventually).

The Meow Wolf exhibit The House of Eternal Return was open until 10:00, and the performance venue is part of the exhibit, so doors for the show were at 10:00 and the show didn’t start until 11:00. This meant that Amanda, who had been wrangling Ash all day, was very tired by the end, but it didn’t seem to impact her performance much, although there was less intra-song banter than usual.

As has become customary of late the band ripped through the first five songs of the set with hardly a pause, and overall the set was tight in spite of some technical difficulties. Brian sang backing harmonies more often than typical and Amanda experimented with some echo reverb on her mic during select sections of several songs with mixed results: in some places it enhanced the ambiance of the song, but in others it was a bit distracting. Overall it was a solid kick-off to this short residency.

Annotated Set List:

Good Day Brian started on guitar before switching to drums, but Amanda crashed and burned on this one almost immediately, forcing them to start over. They finished flawlessly and continued to torch through the set without looking back.

Sex Changes

Gravity

Bad Habit

My Alcoholic Friends This was the first song I noticed Brian singing harmony in places.

Some piano tinkling seemed to tease Missed Me, but just as it seemed to maybe start to morph into something else Brian announced that one of his tom-toms was dying and had maybe 2 more songs in it. Amanda responded that the low G on her keyboard (or her “low G string,” as she called it) was also giving out. They basically shrugged and soldiered on.

Welcome to the Internet (Bo Burnham cover) This song was dedicated and sung to Sam, the 22yo (dubbed Sam the Zygote) who was the victim Amanda had chosen during her pre-show prowl.

Missed Me F’real this time. At one point a stray drumstick flew over Amanda’s head and Brian tried to blame the sound guy, but Amanda wasn’t buying it.

Mrs. O

Delilah (featuring Veronica Swift)

Whakenewha (pronounced Fuckin-A-Fa) Right at the start of the song Amanda noticed someone in the audience filming and asked them to stop, but rather than stop the song and speak to them she sang her admonition to the tune of the song, and then started the song over from the top without missing a beat.

War Pigs (Black Sabbath cover)

Amsterdam (Jacques Brel cover) Amanda continued her tradition of singing this one from the balcony, but it was a little odd in this case because the balcony had windows. Because everything about this venue is a little odd.

Mandy Goes to Med School with just a soupçon of “Careless Whisper” by Wham! as has become tradition.

(commercial to buy merch and, most importantly, join the Dresden Dolls eMail list for info on upcoming shows - a full tour was promised once the new album is done)

Coin-Operated Boy Through some musical alchemy this song transformed into “Never Tear Us Apart” by INXS - complete with kazoo solo! - before morphing back.

Half Jack 

——

Girl Anachronism This song turned into a bit of a hot mess as Amanda first mangled the chord progression, and then later the lyrics, resulting in two stops and restarts. My advice would be to just power through. Girl A is not some delicate shrinking violet of a song that needs precision. It is a powerful enough song to cross the finish line with a flat tire, some blown pistons, and flames shooting out the engine. Just go for it!

Sing

Photo Gallery:

The Dresden Dolls take the stage!

Amanda!

Brian!

Delilah!

Amsterdam!

[mytheoristavenue]

Okay but go listen to "I kissed a girl by Katy Perry (slowed and reverb)" and imagine it from Moon's point of view. It hits different 🤤💫

I do listen to that song slowed pretty often, because when I'm at work I put on those little "POV: You're doing this with this anime character" playlists, and although I'm not super into Moon (or FNAF anymore in general), I do follow some AU TikTok accounts that center around them and I can for sure imagine this:

You dart around the play structure, hopping over cables and pipes holding it together, all the while, ducking to avoid low hanging ledges as you went. In the dark you can make out an eerie chuckle, accompanied by the sickening buzz of robotic limbs contorting in ways they shouldn't It's a stark contrast to the delicate music box tune emminating from the same source. As you move, the choir of horror moves with you, with a startling gain on your speed. As you grab a pipe, crouching down, and prepared to leap to the other side of a gap, you hailt, having just know noticed that the commotion had died almost as suddenly as it had began. With your heart in your ears, you painfully tilt your head you gaze into the abyss above, and to your suspicion, you found a pair of crimson LEDs staring back. Tears roll down your cheeks as you hear the sound a key winding, promping the tune from before to restart, beginning with a heavy distortion from lack of use. You're now trapped in a staring contest with that thing, and from your distance you can see it's jaws part to sing:

"I'm curious for you, you've caught my attention..."

[theghostpinesmusic]

Thanks to everyone who dropped in during my first livestream in almost a year! It wasn't anything like a flawless performance, but I had a ton of fun and played some stuff I haven't played in awhile. One of my favorite parts was this pairing of the Birdsong/Bright Lights medley and Sunshine Reprise. It's a combo I've been playing a bunch over the last year or so, but this version in particular unexpectedly developed into a neat, reverb-y jam in the middle that I've never played before. I missed a few notes when building the second loop so I bailed at that point to end the song, but I still thought it was worth sharing because I enjoyed playing it so much. The joys of improvisation! Anyway, I'll be back on from 6pm-8pm this coming Thursday on Instagram if you want to tune in! Full setlist and notes below: Angel From Montgomery (John Prine) > Running Back To Ohio * Fear > The Gambler (Kenny Rogers) & Here Comes Your Man (The Pixies) !? Birdsong/Bright Lights -> *&& Echo Head Jam -> Sunshine Reprise ~ Machine Of The Universe Monster Ballads (Josh Ritter) ^ Sunshine @% Kurzweil Transmissions # Quinn The Eskimo (Bob Dylan) Ghosts Of The Highway -> One More Cup Of Coffee (Bob Dylan) Invocation -> Blackbird Girl -> * Invocation Better To Have Loved -> Cassie's Song > Millie ** Dreams Ship Of Fools (Grateful Dead)

* Fast version & Started as fast version, restarted as slow version ! w/ Intro jam ? w/ "The Neverending Story" vocal tease && Medley of Birdsong and Bright Lights instrumental ~ Just the ending of Sunshine ^ Performed while wearing Monster Ballads t-shirt @ Slow version % All but the ending of Sunshine, "completing" the previous version # New loop-based arrangement ** Shelter From The Storm (Bob Dylan) interpolation

[jellielectric]

I love how no one except like a select group of people will even really know what’s going on here

[robozombii]

sketch dump fueled purely by my infatuation with @snorkysneepy s reverb torture au lets gooOOOOO

picky eater

typa fucker to not understand why scratching a scab off does not Fix It (even though he probably should)

are you noticing the drastic drop in quality im speedrunning all of these in one sitting before Bedtime is upon me

reverb crossover with my hansel au but im not giving any context as to how this occurred. they hate each other

[painonthebrain]

You know what. Since it’s the au’s one-year birthday(literally posting this at exactly 12am what am i saying), I might as well explain it now. So.

RESTART AU.

Restart au is an alternate universe of Mystery Skulls Animated - an au that branches off after the (very murky and unknown) events of the upcoming fifth video. In my imagined (but also slightly undecided and subject to change) canon, the gang manages to exorcise Reverb from Mystery’s body but not kill him entirely. After those events, Reverb stalks around the gang, trying to find weaknesses of theirs again, and he does this for some time.

Until eventually he runs out of luck during one of their investigations and turns himself into a human. (Like a fucking LOSER)

When that happens, Lewis is the first to notice, and because he’s a vengeful ghost, he subsequently tries to strangle Reverb to death — until Arthur comes in and he stops because Arthur does not want to witness someone else dying because what the fuck! What the actual fuck Lewis!!

Anyway the gang decides yeah if we let this guy run around all human and helpless and stuff he’ll cause some trouble so they force him to come back home with them. Probably at Vivi’s house because she’s the most well-versed in the supernatural I think. And idk shenanigans ensue! (Pain. It’s pain. A lot of it HAHAHA)

Anyway Reverb is like a wet rag in this au because it makes him more fun to put through The Horrors - such as a bunch of demonic lab whump!!

That’s all I can say without it getting insanely complicated and I don’t feel like putting in that much effort for this post… you’re free to ask stuff about it though!

[heavenly-halcyon]

You know the plot of restart by Gordon Korman where the jerk kid loses his memories imagine if that was reverb that would be so fucking funny

[jiminrings]

single dad au series aka dilf jimin sneak peek :)

maybe me

pairing: jimin x reader

wordcount: 9k

glimpse: maybe it’s stupid of jimin to take on everything at once, all by himself. maybe it’s rash of him to book a long-term stay at a luxury hotel, even if it comes with a family discount. but maybe, just maybe, jimin would have nothing to lose and everything to gain if he lets you in.

alternatively, jimin’s a single dad who would do anything for his daughter, even if it means taking advantage of your trust.

—

Jimin can’t afford to have pride nowadays.

What he can afford, however, is crippling anxiety as a single dad to his ten-month old daughter and the overwhelming urge to restart and relocate to the big city where the two of them could have a better future. Those two things specifically, plus whatever his daughter sets her eyes on at the grocery store.

“Do you want this, Yuri?” Jimin looks down on her strapped to his chest with the best baby carrier he could buy, squinting at the label of the item she was so fixed on staring upon. “A sixty-six count pack of Ziploc brand sandwich bags featuring Lightning McQueen?”

Jimin attempts to think about it — like really think about it. His mind’s about to drift how Yuri’s already watched a few movies to enrich her brain (maybe talking cars isn’t the best idea yet) and she can recognize when Cars is on because of the ka-chow! he says under his breath whenever Lightning says it. He was just about to think how he could possibly rationalize purchasing so many sandwich bags until he doesn’t have to.

Yuri’s smiling up at him, all with tiny little teeth and dimples, and suddenly Jimin doesn’t have to think anymore; he puts the pack of sandwich bags with talking cars on them (that he has no real use for) in the cart.

It’s a relief that he could still afford these types of things.

Jimin would not stop at anything to provide for Yuri, giving himself a pat on the back for being wise with his money before she came along. He granted himself luxuries before there was her, but nowadays, luxury was merely defined as having the same things that mattered for his daughter. White noise machine with Bluetooth feature, surround-sound, bass boost, and reverb? Check. A crib that you can turn into a co-sleeper then a proper bed when she grows up? Check. A dispenser that warms up baby wipes? Check.

The moment Yuri was born, Jimin was no longer the skilled and reliable paralegal in a high-end law firm. The moment she first cried and was handed to him because his ex didn’t want her, Jimin became the anxious, yet extremely dedicated and loving, single dad.

Either he was extremely smart or extremely impulsive for doing everything he’s done the past week and despite it all, he’s here grocery shopping with Yuri and laughing as she keeps testing her grip strength on whatever they walk past.

It’s as if Jimin didn’t terminate his lease two hours ago and the moving truck he rented is parked awkwardly outside.

It’s as if he doesn’t have the tangible extensions of his and his daughter’s life right outside the store, from the boxes of his clothes to Yuri’s co-sleeper.

Jimin can afford sustaining himself, his daughter, and his quality of living for ten straight months without working. But if there’s anything that the past week has taught him, his worrying akin to when it was Yuri’s first night home and he didn’t know if he was doing anything right, Jimin can’t afford pride.

His phone rings in his pocket and it jolts him, almost making him cuss. He knows for sure that it’s the call he’s been waiting for since this morning, eyes closing in relief.

He can’t afford being prideful because he called the last person he’d ever build up the courage to ask for help — his half-brother.

“Jimin? What’s the matter, are you alright?” Namjoon asks, unbothered to mask his worry. “You called like 52 times.”

They don’t hate each other, they really don’t. They know each other because they lived under the same roof for years. There’s no animosity between them, just the overwhelming feeling of not knowing how to act around each other. 

Between Jimin and Namjoon, there was respect. Perhaps, too much respect and formality that they’ve never breached the territory of acting how real, whole brothers do — warm and unreserved.

But it’s okay, it’s okay now that Namjoon answered. It’s always been okay with them and Jimin doesn’t want to jeopardize that by asking what he’s about to, but he has to take his chances. Whatever it is that his brother says, it’ll be okay too. Everything he’s been doing the past ten months, especially the past few weeks, is all for Yuri.

“Namjoon, you’re the personal assistant of a hotelier, right?” Jimin asks, holding Yuri’s tiny hand for comfort. “A-and you have benefits, correct?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Namjoon breathes out, still a little shell-shocked because he doesn’t know what this has to do with anything. “Are you okay? Is Yuri okay? Why did-…”

“Thirty-percent off for company employees when they stay at any branch of the hotel for less than a month,” Jimin recalls, proving that he was clearly listening the time Namjoon told him about his job. “And fifty-percent off for company employees who want to have a long-term stay.”

“Yes? What does this have to do with your missed calls?” Namjoon blinks rapidly, literally unable to read between the lines because Jimin barely gave him any to begin with. “Is my niece okay?”

Jimin’s heart briefly warms at Namjoon’s acknowledgement for Yuri but he shrugs it off for the meantime, remaining focused.

“And because you’re working directly under your hotelier, that benefit can be transferrable to family, right?”

It takes one, two seconds before Namjoon realizes that his half-brother wasn’t just rambling about his employee benefits out of nowhere.

In the cookware aisle where Yuri keeps pointing at the Le Creuset heart ramekin that he already knows he’s going to buy without a second thought, Jimin proves for the millionth time that losing his pride is no problem if it’s for his daughter’s sake.

“Namjoon, please. I need your help,” Jimin humbly admits. “We’re family, right?”

( ♡ )

Jimin loves hotels.

The moment Namjoon agreed to let him use his employee discount for a long-term stay at the hotel he works at, he hightails it out of the grocery with a lighter aura. Yuri perhaps notices it, being more calm now because as her head is pressed to his chest, she could feel how his heartbeat’s relaxed.

Jimin takes the four-hour drive to the city like an absolute champ, Yuri even more so now that she’s tucked to her car seat and reunited with her emotional support blanket with her name hand-stitched by Jimin himself. It wasn’t the best, really. The stitches are clear but the tension is off, the characters only understandable if you take a good second to stare and tilt your head because the alignment was lopsided. It wasn’t the best but it was Jimin’s best — that’s good enough.

He figured that doing a fifty-percent discounted stay at a hotel, a luxury one on top of that, would be a hundred times better and cheaper than renting a temporary place in the big, expensive city until he could find his bearings. Jimin didn’t need to pay utilities, breakfast would be taken care of, amenities were free, and he didn’t have to worry about the safety of the area; it’s practically equivalent to a vacation.

The moment Namjoon met him and Yuri by the lobby, Jimin feels like he’s been transported back to his childhood home where the couches were lived-in and the floors were warm from the paths of their steps. Namjoon only had ten years on him and yet he was always dignified in his eyes; sturdy to the point of stiff, yet polite when necessary.

Jimin didn’t feel that composed, calculated persona when he saw Namjoon time this though, not at all. With all his worry that he had never seen before on his half-brother, Namjoon embraces him. Fully hugs him tightly and he could even hear a relieved sigh, pulling away when he hears Yuri’s squeal.

She’s smart, that much he’s figured. Could already stand stably on her feet for a few seconds without assistance and say coherent mumbles here and there that would soon turn into actual words. In fact, Jimin just realized now that Yuri could also place faces, recognizing Namjoon whom she only saw probably five times ever.

“What’s with the sudden move?” Namjoon furrows his brows at him, taking Yuri from him without a word and he lets him because his arms were starting to cramp from driving. 

“Came to me in a fever dream, actually. I didn’t know you could have that with two-hour naps even without a fever,” Jimin shudders at recollection of the haunting thought that came to him a few weeks ago. “A talking whale cussed me out and told me I was being a shitty dad by not giving Yuri the best I could.”

“You’re not a shitty dad,” Namjoon corrects him albeit softly, the conviction there but not as energetic because he didn’t want to jolt his niece awake.

“Eh,” Jimin shrugs, lightly laughing upon the realization that holy shit, this is the most unplanned, casual, yet deepest conversation he’s had with Namjoon. “I try my best, I guess.”

Namjoon reserves the other words he has in mind and instead digs his hand into his pocket, pulling out a keycard to the room that Jimin begged him for. “Have you eaten dinner already?”

“Nope. I fed Yuri at the rest stop, was supposed to eat dinner, but then we had to leave early because I remembered that I double-parked,” he chuckles, only dawning on him now when he looks around and barely sees people in the lobby that it was already late into the night.

Namjoon, who’s been itching to go home since four in the afternoon, suddenly lost the pressing urge to crash in his bed despite being ten in the evening. God, Jimin really is selfless. If he felt sorry for him awhile ago when he suddenly called him for a huge favor, he feels even more sorry now. The weight of Yuri in his arms reminds him that this is all the weight and more that Jimin’s carried alone for ten months and counting, heavy enough to make Namjoon think that holding off from going home a little longer wouldn’t hurt.

“I’ll call room service up for you. Your dinner’s on me,” Namjoon softly smiles, genuinely, and Jimin could almost pass out from the fraction of the brotherly warmth he— they could’ve had all this time if only they became close. Not just okay, but actually close.

“Thank you, Joon,” Jimin slightly bows, a force of habit that his half-brother wants him to get rid of. He’ll tell him off eventually, but not now when it’s clear he’s had a long day.

Barely thirty minutes since Jimin stepped foot into the hotel yet he could already tell that his stay here would be undoubtedly life-changing. It’s a new experience; a new, terrifying yet ground-breaking experience for him and Yuri to go through, but atleast they have each other.

When Jimin feels like drowning, Yuri drains the water for him.

The moment he taps the heavy metal card to the door, Jimin sighs in relief and thanks whoever is listening. The room exceeded his expectations and more, making the mental note to appreciate it later and instead instruct the bellman where to put the boxes for now with a gracious tip. Jimin still has so much things to unpack, calls to make, and arrangements to handle, but when Yuri yawns, he’s reminded of his first priority.

He sets her down for now on the middle of the large and pristine bed, unpacking and installing her co-sleeper first before changing her. Jimin could only hope that Yuri doesn’t take the drastic difference of environment too roughly, but nonetheless, he comes prepared because he’s already stacking the fridge with the coffee he brought.

When he sees Yuri sleeping soundly in just a matter of minutes (even without the white noise machine), Jimin knows he did a good job today.

He did a good job doing everything that he had to do in the past month and unexpectedly, so did Namjoon by being the reason to why Jimin could not stop gushing at all the free stuff he could take home.

The only problem at the moment is that home isn’t defined, but he’ll just have to worry about it tomorrow.

Jimin gives himself too many pats on the back for even thinking of the accommodation. Even the hair and shower products here were luxury, none of the unbranded, minimalist (is it really minimalist or is there little thought and budget put into it?) products that some hotels carry.

In fact, the sudden reprieve Jimin has from having the most stressful 72 hours he’s had after some time makes him feel invincible. Oddly brave. Oddly too courageous that before he knows it, he’s turning the hot water on and even more oddly, doesn’t rush his shower; even has the balls to exfoliate properly and put a leave-on body mask.

He’s fifteen minutes into his sudden self-nurturing moment until he hears Yuri squirming around, a murmur here and a low gurgle there.

Then she really starts to cry.

It’s the type of cry that makes him want to redo the last fifteen minutes and turn on the white noise machine before he went to go shower. It’s the type of his daughter’s cry that makes his stomach sink because it reminds him of the inkling feeling that shit, maybe he is a bad father. The type that makes him rethink of the sudden move and his performance as a dad the past ten months.

Jimin suddenly feels panicked again, the lavender and cotton scent of the mask on his scalp turning cloying to him as soon as he hears Yuri sob.

“Yuri, baby? What’s the matter?” he yells out as if she could answer, cussing himself under his breath. 

“I-I just-! Appa just put on his scrub! It’s the leave-on type!” he yells out again for her to hear past the thick glass pane, having hope when her cries decrease in volume. “Five minutes? Can you give appa five minutes, Yuri? Please, baby?”

Jimin gathers his wits, strengthening his resolve. His plea was basically useless because Yuri cried even louder. The 4-7-8 breathing method he used to do when he stumbled on dead ends when researching case material as a paralegal is barely helping now, trying his best to ignore the sinking feeling of inadequacy.

His mom told him about this before. Yuri’s at that age where she just cries because she wants to! It’s okay, Jimin. She needs to know that she can soothe herself!

Five minutes, okay. For five minutes, Jimin would remain in the bathroom and try to relax, letting Yuri gather her bearings and soothe herself. Five minutes won’t hurt that much.

He’s jittery inside and now he doesn’t even get to be awed at the luxury shower products doing wonders for him, instead worried how Yuri will do in the 300 seconds she’ll be left alone.

It barely registers to Jimin how this must come across to the guests around him. He’s immune to Yuri’s cries to the point that he doesn’t fully grasp just how loud she can get.

You aren’t. You’re not immune to the cries at all. 

You’re only supposed to be making your rounds before you go home, an unneeded routine that you do anyway because lately you’ve been procrastinating driving back to your own house.

You’ve just gotten out of the elevator when you hear a baby crying so loudly and clearly from the end of the hall that you just can’t ignore it. Even the room service staff who’s coming from the other hand is just as surprised, his cart coming to the direction anyway. Your assistant, Namjoon, personally instructed him to bring food to the door.

You’re a familiar figure to the employees, obviously because you’re the hotelier and come from a famous family of one. It wasn’t exactly the norm for the actual head of the hotel to do the rounds herself or appear and oversee operations regularly in general, but what shocked your employee the most was that you heard it too; it wasn’t just a trick of his mind that there’s a baby loudly crying through the soundproof walls.

“Why’s nobody soothing the baby?” you wonder out loud, brows knitting in confusion. You’re worried, that type of cry coming from a baby, or any cry in general, anchoring a sinking feeling on your chest.

“I-I don’t know either, Miss,” Seokjin, his nametag reads, replies. Not only is he worried about the baby who just won’t seem to stop crying, he’s also nervous because he can’t believe the hotelier is talking to him directly.

“Could it be that no one’s there? Just the baby?” your mind runs, bottom lip trembling. Situations like these worried you beyond explanation, your heart softening in recollection. “I-I mean, what if the baby isn’t okay?”

You wait for two minutes. You and Seokjin freeze and wait for two minutes and the crying still doesn’t stop, setting off all the alarms in your head that it makes you dig for your own card in your bag.

You screw your eyes shut and tap the master key, hoping that you’re in the wrong and not right about thinking of worst case scenarios. As soon as you open the door and quickly scan the room, you’re relieved when you see a cute baby crying her lungs out on a co-sleeper. You come to her just in case, holding her up and assessing for any indications of what could’ve made her cry this hard.

There’s luggages, boxes, and shoes. Chelsea boots that clearly don’t fit a baby’s feet.

Oh.

You’re in the wrong.

Jimin emerges from the bathroom with a towel on, still dripping wet. He thought his fatigued mind was playing tricks on him when he heard the door click, but as soon as his eyes adjust and he sees you, standing in his bedroom holding Yuri; someone he does not know at all holding a keycard different from his — he loses almost all sense.

“Who the fuck are you?! Why the hell are you holding my daughter?”

Your eyes widen, not only because you misread the situation completely and there’s a half-naked handsome guy in front of you, but also because you let your instincts overtake you again — this time overstepping into a guest’s room.

Jimin thinks your face is familiar but he can’t focus on that when all he could do is panic, his mind all over the place that he only belatedly realizes that Yuri has stopped crying since.

“Why are you— no, who are you?” you return the question, your panic for what the situation seems like suddenly returning.

“What the fuck? Did you just break into my-…” Jimin’s veins are about to pop out when he tries to register everything — from the way you’re dressed elegantly and sophisticatedly not like the employees, to your keycard being a different color than his yet managing to open the door, to how you’re just as concerned as he is and not trying to flee.

Oh.

Jimin thinks that he contributed to you doing your wrong.

“Miss Y/N!” 

Namjoon’s voice bellows from the hallway, letting himself in after Seokjin quickly filled him in on what happened. He’s sweating and heaving, wild eyes flickering between you and Jimin, and then Yuri now that she’s suddenly awake, throwing her a little wave.

“Namjoon?” you and Jimin ask at the same time, staring at each other.

The two of you no longer look hostile but there’s more questions raised than there are answers given, your gazes syncing to look at Namjoon who’s still catching his breath.

“Oh, I see,” your assistant breathlessly chuckles, nodding to himself. “I-I see. I think I know what happened here.”

“Do you know this guy?” you’re first to ask, a hesitant look flitting to the man who’s still half-naked and dripping wet in his towel.

Namjoon nods, straightening his posture before looking pointedly at Jimin. “Yeah. Jimin, this is our hotelier — my boss,” he emphasizes, coughing and gesturing to his lack of modesty that it prompts aforementioned to cross his arms, unintentionally highlighting his defined biceps.

“Miss Y/N, this is Jimin,” he smiles, trying to diffuse the tension. You and Jimin both want to sink to the floor out of embarrassment, leaving Namjoon the odd one out because he knows now that his plan of coming home in the next five minutes is soiled. “He’s my half-brother.”

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wanna read more? part one (and intermission 01) is already posted on my patreon :D if you subscribe, you'll have early access to maybe me + future fics in general, and you also get exclusive content!!

don't worry though!! as i've said earlier, maybe me will still be posted here :-) part one will be posted on tumblr, nov. 27 at 1 am kst :D

and now..... what do we think about dilf jimin :O

[hypnawave]

In the year 2020, Pashang 爬上 a.k.a Brandon Pearson took a decision that would bless a lot of ears in the years to come. Restarting music production and entering the synthwave scene with his own uniquely developed sound which he unapologetically describes as"dark" synthwave. Drawing influences from the likes of heavy hitters such as Volkor X, Dynatron, Dav Dralleon among many others, he currently fancies collaborating on a "shredwave" project!

2023 could be a year full of surprises from this talented artist as he is involved in "Four Producers One Sample" project working side by side iwth the likes of Synthwave Pro and Voyager and also has an LP in the works which he described as simply "spacey". It's a true wonder how his creative boundaries are inexistent and goes from dark, heavy synthwave to spacey, chilled out vibes as is evident in the track featured today - "Agoraphobia".

About the track: Made in FL Studio using Diva (Software Synth) and Blackhole (Reverb) among other gear. The artist intends to create the feeling of emerging into an open space after being suffocated inside.

What makes it great?

We have all been there, we were all in it together. We have all seen it, faced it and are still fighting to keep up with the aftermath. What started as a pandemic has now become a part of history that nobody will be able to mentally erase. With it, came the lockdowns and with the lockdowns came an inevitable feeling of being trapped, gasping for a sight of bright sunshine, aching for open air and interaction with the world around us. Amidst this, the artist creates an open space for himself and his listeners. Such is the power of art, it can truly deliver whatever you ask of it.

Everytime i hear the track, I am invited into an ambience that is truly tough to describe in any other way except "comforting". It starts with a minor chord that informs us of the melancholic nature of the track. Then there is a shift to a major chord in the next bar followed by a minor chord and this back and forth exchange of emotions between chords has the listener hanging by a thread, until the lead comes in. The open, ambient and soft lead guides us from the intro to an ascension where the drums join in. A syncopated beat so well suited to the track can add a new dimension to the song and that is precisely what happens here. Once the break arrives, we are once again left out in the open, feeling refreshed and ready for the next part of the track. The lead arrives again, bring the drums in, building up the intensity to a climax with the soft lead coming out of all it's filters. showing it's true colours. Right when we feel like we have read the fine print, the song fades away making it impossible to not hit replay.

What a gift! Listen to it here -

Cheers!