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adventure-kindness-wellness · 10 months

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Motion Creates Clarity

How often do you downplay your own successes? I fail to acknowledge the magnitude of my risks and accomplishments often.

As soon as I achieve a goal, I just move on to the next, and this is something I am becoming conscious of.  

My current location is on the West Coast in a beautiful region of Central California. A small college town by the beach. San Luis Obispo.  

Within a few minutes, I can drive on the beach and sand dunes, go surfing, lay out on a beautiful public beach full of happy people, or park on a mountain top with panoramic views of the city and ocean while I edit videos.  

This area is not congested and homelessness is far less prevalent than anywhere I’ve been in a long time.  This mission of “Adventure, Kindness, and Wellness” in the pursuit of freedom and self sufficiency sounds foreign and crazy to some. To others, it sounds romantic and inspirational. Few, if any understand a journey like this if they have not engaged in some form of parallel experience.  

Just over two-years ago, I was at the end of a 7-year phase, living in the place that I wanted to be most in the world. Breckenridge, Colorado. One of the two most visited ski towns in America. See the Book of Mike G YouTube for more awesome videos!

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When I moved there in 2014, it was still possible to own a home, buy land, build something, and create a middle-class life through hard work and consistent income.  Within a few years that dream became unobtainable. Even with jobs like grocery stocker paying $30.00 per-hour by the time I left in 2021.   

Our housing economy and the community were changing quickly and in 2020, that process accelerated exponentially.

By 2021, our town of 5,000 residents had "lost" four-thousand housing units of all sizes to wealthy Air BnB and short-term rental owners from different states and countries… Housing for local workforce was effectively gone. Literally impossible to find. Thus the concept of a 4x4 camper that fits into a normal parking space and has room to comfortably work on my laptop.   Sadly, after 7-years living the ski town life, I had to return to my hometown.

Once I lost my housing as the result of my divorce, I could not find anywhere else to live and honestly did not want to live in that small town and watch my ex wife move on. I knew everyone, everyone knew me. It was just time for a new chapter.  I

came home to Wichita defeated, depressed, but out of debt with a couple thousand dollars in the bank.  

I returned at age 39. After a few weeks, I stepped into the gym for the first time in years.  Here, I developed habits and made changes that will be beneficial for the rest of my life.  

I had the opportunity to take my contract work for the world’s largest custom motorcycle manufacturer, Big Dog Motorcycles and turn that work into a full time job for the next year.

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During a moment like this, if one chooses, it is a wonderful time to truly assess what you desire your life to look like.

If you ever find yourself having lost a relationship, housing, possibly credit and additional objects, it can be one of the most liberating feelings, if you take the moment to acknowledge the gift of freedom that you have received. 

My intention was to stay home for a year, save some money, figure out my next destination and make the move.  

I obtained my Cannabis Masters Degree from Cannabis Training University and began pursuing that as a career path, but without any real direction. Previously, I worked in the industry and thought it could really be a good sustainable career path.  

It’s funny how much time, money, and resources went into my prior university degree in video production and journalism, yet I never found the place I fit into the world happily trading my hours for dollars to make another person, party, or business profit.   

So, I got myself locked into a 1-year lease to work with Big Dog Motorcycles. I stayed home for a bit over a year, then my engine broke down and needed to be replaced.  

During this two-year period at home, I spent hours upon hours daily, thinking about Who I am, who I want to be, and what purpose I will pursue with this moment of freedom in my life.  Remember, I was debt-free with cash in the bank when I arrived home.

Due to the engine replacement and taking a risk with a different friend’s business, which did not turn out fruitful, I was now $13,000 in debt on high interest credit cards.

Around this time, my mindset began to shift. Now that my eyes are open, I have been focusing on shifting from selling my skills and abilities to an employer to realizing all of my past challenges have been equipping me to pursue my own path if I can just find the right direction.  

As a Video Producer of 17-years, I finally realized something so simple. I can make a legitimately sustainable career creating content for YouTube. The hard part is developing the concept, believing in myself enough to fully commit to the challenge, and being willing to see things through, even in moments of stagnation or hardship.  

After deciding that I was completely serious about my YouTube career, I had to define my channel and content.  With much time and thought, I developed the concept of “Adventure, Kindness, and Wellness” Three things that are important to me in my own life and will be appealing to others who are also interested in similar pursuits.  

If you delve into my first podcasts and live videos, you can see how much of an amateur I am in front of the camera, even with nearly two-decades of professional experience behind the viewfinder.  I was never interested in sitting in front of the camera in a studio and talking. At the same time, the adventure element that is supposed to drive everything was just not present in the flat, industrial conservative Midwestern city of Wichita, Kansas.   

The clarity I sought was still far away. At the same time, I was 40, closing in on 41, living in my hometown for nearly two-years.

At this point, the reality of my own mortality started to become a prevalent part of my conscious thought process.  Around that time, I realized that if I didn’t have a drop-dead date for departure and a destination, another year could pass and I might be in even worse financial shape, or something else could happen that kept me locked into a place and life that I did not want.  

So, without having ever been there, I chose Palm Springs, California for my Winter destination.   

Next, the Redbull Imagination freestyle motocross event popped up on my Facebook feed and happened to land on the last day of September 2023. This was pretty close to the time I wanted to depart for my next adventures, and even though it is one of the biggest and most progressive Redbull FMX events in the world, it was only a few hours away from home in the middle of nowhere.  

I bought my tickets and set this event as my drop-dead departure date.  

So much has happened since that time. Make sure to check out my channel to see all of the adventures I have shared since then.

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The point of this story isn’t to describe the adventures, but rather to explain how important it is to start moving, even if you don’t know exactly where you’re going.  

At this point in life, I know I can be some thing amazing for myself and I have the ability to make this world a slightly better place.

I will be selling myself short and depriving the world of the gifts I can produce if I throw out all of the skills, experience, and fortitude I’ve developed… This is exactly how I see trading my hours for dollars to build something for someone else, literally throwing away my strongest attributes that I have painstakingly developed throughout my life.  

What happens when a person like myself with this much experience and professional skills begins working for others? most of their skills and experience are disregarded.

That person is trained to follow directions, produce the result they are told, and use a small portion of their knowledge and experience. Meanwhile, all of their capabilities and strengths outside of those directions are not utilized, even if they are the most valuable skills the employee possesses.   

When I recognized how much of my time and energy will go into selling myself to others for their benefit, I realized that I was disregarding my ability to do amazing things with my life for myself and for others.  

The amount of work, stress, dedication, education, time, and energy that goes into seeking an employer is substantial.   

I’ve come to the conclusion that in my life, I can dedicate that time and energy to my own pursuits… If I have the self discipline and dedication needed, I will be able to produce a far better outcome in life that will last the rest of my life, and it will only take a few years of hard work, dedication, and discomfort to get off the ground.  The hardest part is getting started.  

Living in a world full of modern comforts, conveniences, and working for others while eliminating the need to figure things out and make them work, I see American culture turning weak, soft, and dependent. Not to mention depressed, unhealthy, and addicted.

One of my biggest pursuits in life is freedom.

What that means to me is that I am able to thrive without having to depend on an employer or clients to allow me the ability to feed myself and pay for shelter.

It means living beneath my means, owning land outright, and building my piece of the American dream with hands-on sweat equity instead of trading 30-years of my life for the currency to pay interest and taxes on, while not being able to save enough to comfortably retire.   

Realizing that I am selling myself short following the directions of others for their profit, and understanding that life is getting shorter by the day, I no longer have time to waste, dreaming, thinking, and hoping while living a soft life full of comfort and convenience.   

All of the comfort and convenience was coming at a high price. It was keeping me from moving forward and pursuing the man that I am capable of becoming. It was making me numb my dissatisfaction with alcohol, and it was not allowing me to become my authentic self.

Instead, it was forcing me into a mold that I was not suited to fit into.  

This is where I do not give myself enough credit for what I have accomplished… Check out my channel to see all of the hard work I did to prepare for this new life I’ve decided to design and pursue.  

I’m now on the West Coast, living in a place that I really like, making 4x the same income for literally the EXACT SAME JOB with the same company.  

My location is perfect for my vision of parking my 4x4 mobile office camper in beautiful places to work on my laptop and shoot amazing, visually appealing videos.  

By the time I began generating an income in California, I had accumulated several thousand dollars in credit card debt from the second friend’s business I wasted my time with, combined with travel expenses, and 20-days without income.  

At the same time, I’m years ahead of where I could be if I stayed in my hometown with low income and a low cost of living. Especially sense my transmission is now failing and will also need to be replaced with credit over the next few weeks.  

But…

Imagine if the transmission broke down in Wichita and I did not depart on the day that I set. I would likely still be there, working for so little that I can’t pay for the transmission or get on the road. I wouldn’t have the subject matter or visually appealing locations to capture content and tell my stories… Who knows, maybe I would have gotten myself a DUI or worse. (I’m 81-days alcohol free today, by the way.)   

My path is still fairly undefined. It is coming into focus and I am learning more, while improving my plan, tactics, content, and online presence daily.   

When I think about how far I’ve come over the last two-months, I realize how substantially vital this decision to move forward and risk everything I had left to put into this life truly is.  

When I consider the monumental challenge of my failing transmission, I recognize that it is just another opportunity to build more fortitude, overcome a hard moment, and become even more dedicated to the mission that I am on.  

Now, this challenge is part of my story that I am still writing. At the same time, I’m locked in. I’m on the West Coast, I have solid income, and even though I will be able to move on soon enough, I’m going to embrace this moment. Work hard, pay off the transmission and some additional debt, while continuing to create content, learn, develop, evolve, and pursue my mission of self-sustainable freedom with the theme of Adventure, Kindness, and Wellness.  

When I think back to the moment that I chose the date 9/30/23 for my departure, I know that it would have been much easier to work for even another month before departure, yet I also recognize the substantial progress I have made on my mission over the last two-months, and in the long run, I believe that a single month’s progress is worth far more than the money I would have been able to save and dedicate to this adventure.  

Now, my blurry vision of the future is coming into focus… Choosing a departure date and location were possibly the most valuable things I could have done for myself at that time.   

Now, I am in a position where I cannot find a better path or option than to stay the course that I am on, sail straight through the rough waters of transmission troubles.

Along the way, I have come to the conclusion that I have a far FAR higher likelihood of achieving the financial freedom for myself on this path, than wasting any more of my precious hours begging employers or clients for work, or going back to college for an MBA.  

When my mind finally realized the substantial limits of the career world, it became obvious that the world the Boomers experienced will produce less buying power in my lifetime, and basically no chance at a comfortable retirement if I try to do things the way they did.  

When my mind was able to break free of the idea that I must do what education and society says I should, then I began to realize that every moment not spent pursuing my dreams, goals, and vision were moments lost that I could never get back.  

And now, here I am on the coast, proud of the progress I’ve made over the last few months. Moving towards my dreams on a daily basis, and making good enough money to pay down debt promptly and free up more time and money to focus on my desired outcome in life.  

If I didn’t set that departure date and location, I would not be as far along as I am now, even if this is just the very beginning.  

So if you are ever feeling stuck or lost, take some real time to understand your personal mission. Choose an outcome and a time. Commit to it, even if it is uncomfortable, then take action.In the end, you will develop courage, self esteem, grit, and joy. True joy.

#4x4 limo #overland camper #adventure travel #overland camping #youtube #off road #overlanding #camping #suv camping #overland #inspiration #motivation #Youtube

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mingwasblog · 10 months

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Tr. Obbo Grace. Has earned herself a trademark name ‘Mummy’ in the teaching circles.

Hers is a story of sacrifice, perseverance and inspiration.

"Born in Iganga District at Bukoyo-CMS village on 6thJune, no one imagined—not even herself—that she would one day become an applauded teacher.

My father gave birth to 7 children but I was the last born. We attended nearby schools and grew up planting all our food. We were really poor. We had a close-knit family where we visited our grandparents and other relatives on a regular basis. We also went to church and had to participate in church activities” .

Education was not a priority in Obbo's household, but poverty was a barrier however, my family, wanted to ensure that we have a better and easier life than the parents had. Obbo started her education at Kate Buddy kindergarten and then joined St. Peter Claver Walugog primary school.

She then joined Iganga Town View Secondary School, where she completed her O-Level in 2017.

Start of the journey

While she tried to find jobs in her vacation, she ended up at AFFCAD school, Kawempe, where she was initiated into teaching. Being the only young girl and also attractive on staff, she received a number of proposals for marriage but chose not.

As a licenced teacher, she taught at AFFCAD school for sometime.

During this time, she started pursuing a nursery teaching course at YMCA, Kampala where she attained a certificate in ECD.

She was earning monthly but tragedy soon struck.

After a disagreement with her supervisor on long payment delays with serous penality of much money yet the payment delays.

“I felt so bitter and walked away. I used my little savings and partnered with my brother, we rented a house,to start RAAH CHRISTIAN SCHOOL -CMS my own school,” Obbo says.

Touching lives

One of her first teachers were Viola, Tr Rebbeca and Tr Loyce who had dropped out of school in Senior four. “I needed someone to help me. One day I was going to the market and met this young girl (Rebecca). It did not take a lot of convincing as she had reported to work the following day. I always briefed her on what I wanted her to do and supervised her until she was ready,” Obbo said.

She helped these teachers to return to school on in-service program to obtain a teaching certificate.

Obbo's hard work and dedication earned her the title ‘Mumy’ from the community people and her children at school yet she is still young by age without any biological child and not married.

“I do not know how many lives I have nurtured and how many people I have inspired,” she boasts.

Vibrant personality

Obbo's admirable lifestyle is shaped by humility, patience, love, empathy, sympathy and tolerance, among others. She has never sent any pupil home for fees. She says a good name is worth more than school fees.

“Teaching is never a business to me but a way to educate a child to become useful citizens. Actually, I have never gained financially yet,” she says.

Obbo’s approach to teaching is soft and tactful through friendly engagements.

The courageous woman

Although her brother supports her everything she ever wants, she always feels incomplete without a university degree.

This year 2023 she has joined the university for her diploma in ECD at YMCA.

Mingwasblog. Empowering youths. +256701319029.

We come to you. We are always looking for ways to improve

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doctorroseficmarathon · 2 years

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Announcing the DoctorRose Fic Marathon 2022

We’re back!!! And this time with our very own Tumblr page to keep the DoctorRose Fic Marathon in one nice little place. (well I say we, but it’s really just me hosting this by myself) I wasn’t entirely sure whether or not the Fic Marathon would come back this year but with such overwhelmingly positive feedback from the last time I knew I had to bring it back.

A difference from last year is that this year, now that the event is organized in one central location that only talks about the Fic Marathon. I can take more of an active role in promoting fics. If you choose to promote the fics you’ve posted on AO3 on tumblr as well, tag this account and I will reblog them here. However as I can only see them if you tag this account in them, so keep that in mind.

The rules are mostly the same as last year. Write as much fanfiction as you can from September First (1st) to September Thirtieth (30th). Anyone can participate even if you haven’t written doctorrose fan fiction before and you don’t have to write every day. There are only four (4) rules.

If you are going to connect the stories you’ve written, connect them via series instead of a single story.

There is no set length, write however long or short a fic you want. As well as no set rating, as long as you tag the story correctly.

Use the tag “DoctorRose Fic Marathon (2022)” on Archive of Our Own.

Have fun!!!

There is still a set of prompts for each day if you would rather follow prompts instead of flying in blind, however you don’t need to follow them. You don’t have to even write them in order, combining them is also an option. All that matters is that you write. Fifteen (15) of the prompts are the same from last year and Fifteen (15) are new prompts. However the prompts that haven’t been brought back from last year are also available if you would like. The bold prompts are the ones from last year.

1. Alternate Meetings

2. Handcuffed together

3. Dreams

4. Telepathic communication

5. Domestics

6. Temporary death

7. Hurt/comfort

8. One Bed

9. Music

10. Rose and Friends*

11. Swapping places

12. Dancing

13. Declaration(s) of love

14. Meddling TARDIS

15. Reversed Magna clamps

16. Multiple Doctors

17. Reunion

18. Colors

19. GitF fix-it

20. Doomsday fix-it

21. Journey’s End fix-it

22. Alternate Universe

23. Historical

24. Comedy

25. Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey

26. Chameleon arch

27. Ghosts

28. Barcelona

29. Wish Fulfillment

30. Happily Ever After

I do mourn the loss of Time Loop however fear not!!! Time Loop also falls under Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey.

Rose and Friends* actually refers to a specific prompt but I couldn’t find a good other way to explain it. But basically it’s a prompt where Rose interacts with characters she normally doesn’t interact with it. That could be a Classic Doctor, or other companions, or anything like that. She just can’t have appeared with them regularly. So Sarah Jane is fair game of a character to write her with.

While the prompts are not fully explained in depth this year, now that I run the event via blog anyone can ask any questions for clarification and I’ll be able to get back to you speedily.

See you all soon!!!

#doctorrose fic marathon #tenrose #ninerose #doctor who #rose tyler #eightrose #elevenrose #twelverose #thirteenrose #timepetals #the Doctor #tenth doctor #ninth doctor

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sugadaily · 3 years

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On tvN’s You Quiz on the Block, SUGA told stories from before his debut. The period of his life when he struggled with how to live off his music. SUGA and BTS have kept going and going for eight years, and now he’s on their grounds, where he can do anything he wants musically. What began with that long journey is the story of SUGA holding his head up higher and staring at the future, reaching for it.

How are you feeling after your shoulder surgery? You’re doing physical therapy in parallel with work. SUGA: I’m all right. I’m keeping up with the physical therapy, too. I had surgery last year because I wanted to be able to go back to work sooner. I have nothing else to do except music.

You said that there’s nothing for you to do other than music in the “BE-hind Story” interview on YouTube, too. SUGA: It’s true. I tried gaming, but I have no talent for it. The people I play with online get so frustrated if I do. I mean, I’m working hard and got some recognition in my life, and yet people bash me so hard in games. (laughs)

I wonder if there’s a game you can do better in than you do in your career. You’re currently at your sixth week at number one on the Billboard Hot 100 [with “Butter, at the time of this interview]. (laughs) How are you feeling these days? SUGA: When we were at number one for two weeks straight, I was like, Wow, this is so amazing! But after the fifth or sixth week, we really started to talk about it between ourselves: I really can’t believe this. Anyway, I feel like I have a responsibility. And I think I’ll end up thinking much, much more when we get ready for the next promotion. Even if I just try to enjoy this situation, it hasn’t sunk in. We can’t leave the country, plus there’s lots of issues in the world right now that are much more important than how well we perform on the charts.

As you say, it’s a tough situation, all over the world. How do you feel about releasing “Permission to Dance,” with its positive message, at this point in time? SUGA: It seems like everyone around the world is really tired of this situation dragging out. I wanted to convey a message that tells people to keep hanging on to hope until the very end. Whereas we released the album BE in this situation, seemingly without any certainty, I believe things will slowly get better now. I don’t know if we can go back to the way things were before, but I’m still working with the hope that we can return to a situation that resembles what we had before.

Aren’t you tired of the pandemic being in this prolonged state? SUGA: I look at it as, when you lose one thing, you gain another. I ended up being able to see my family more since I’m in Korea. In that sense, I feel more stable, so I’m not so much tired as hoping each day that things will become okay soon. I keep moving back and forth between work and home, and I’ve started to reflect on parts of myself I didn’t know about before. Like that I feel somewhat comfortable when I start and finish work at a certain time. While I used to have to go to bed at a certain time for work the next day or else I had a hard time getting up early, now I know I’ve figured out what time I should wake up at to make sure I feel good all day. What I pursue in life is emotional stability, and I don’t think there’s really anything too exciting or sad happening these days.

What effect do those emotions have when you work on music? SUGA: They don’t have a big effect on it. I think it affects the way I write lyrics a bit, but I’m not working on any lyrics at the moment. I’ve been making music for a long time, so I think it’s possible for me to express emotions I’m not feeling in the moment. And it’s good that we released “Permission to Dance” in this kind of situation.

You sing rather than rap in “Permission to Dance.” In addition to rapping, you started singing more both before and after BE. What did you learn about your voice? SUGA: “Permission to Dance” was a little bit difficult. I don’t draw a line between singing and rapping or anything, but it was different from our usual style, and the vocals were a bit high, too. So even though it took a while to prepare for it, I worked hard, and even when I asked some older musicians for their opinions, they all said, “It’s good the way you’re doing it. Don’t try to sing better—just sing more.” I think my only option is to sing more, like they suggested.

As far as style goes, you’ve been doing a smoother kind of pop music. Did any differences arise as a result of these changes? SUGA: All things considered, the English was the hardest part. I paid close attention to my pronunciation in “Butter” and “Permission to Dance.” It wasn’t easy to capture that smooth feeling in the songs, so I practiced my pronunciation quite a bit. And I end up breathing a lot when I’m doing an English song, but the rap parts were a bit hard for that reason. There’s a clear difference from Korean songs, since English has so many syllables. But I don’t have any one method I stick with for my vocals yet, so I tend to try lots of different things out.

What do you make of BTS’s achievements over the past year with “Permission to Dance” and “Butter,” as well as the group’s change in style? In the space of a year, you’ve released songs in a style different from MAP OF THE SOUL: 7 or BE. SUGA: As a producer, I think reactions are important to an artist who works within the field of popular music. With that in mind, speaking as a producer, “Dynamite,” “Butter” and “Permission to Dance” were the best choices. And musical tastes are different from country to country, and the cultures are different, too. Given that situation, I think it’s important that we’re a group who can send such a universal message out into the world.

BTS has really grown and changed a lot, starting with “No More Dream” and all the way to “Permission to Dance.” SUGA: I think it’s a natural course of event for those of us who make pop music. Artists mix and match different genres as they grow, and the music develops as the people of its time listen to it. I’ve been listening to a ton of music lately, and thanks to the times we live in, if I listen to a song a few times, they recommend me more songs in a similar style. And after listening to them, I realized the style of hip hop is also changing and is splitting off into different offshoots. Other than hip hop, I also listen to a lot of instrumental music. I’ve always liked Hans Zimmer’s music. There have been many times where a movie I like turns out to have music by Hans Zimmer.

What is it about Hans Zimmer’s music that draws you in? SUGA: I like orchestral music. There’s a lot of pop songs that are under the three-minute mark now, and whereas it’s sort of predetermined that they’re always written with intros that are four bars long, orchestral music can do a lot within its framework.

But, as can be seen in IU’s song “eight,” which you both produced and featured on, you broke out of pop music’s typical composition style and tried out a highly condensed progression. The composition of the chorus is very straightforward. SUGA: Yes. I insisted that the flow be roughly cut in half from that of a typical song, and I expect more pop music will be like that in the future. And maybe even shorter as time goes on. I mean, these days there’s songs that are under two minutes, even.

Regardless, I felt the chorus in “eight” is extremely dramatic with its structure and the melody of the chorus. I thought it was rather grand in scale as well. Would you say that you’re attempting to mix your tastes and things you want to do into the structure of pop music? SUGA: As you know, I love hip hop, so when I was first making music I thought it had to be hip hop no matter what and that I had to take pride in my own ideas and not accept any compromise. But while getting some experience at the forefront of pop music, I figured out that you can keep being stubborn or inflexible because there are people listening to you. There was a time I made music without any listeners before I became a member of BTS. But if someone were to ask if I stopped being stubborn about the music I’m making these days, the answer’s no. As I grew up and became an adult, I came to realize that I have to negotiate between what I want to do and the kind of music the public wants without compromising anything. When I give up on something I wanted to do, I ask myself, What will I get out of this? And conversely, when I want to do something, I ask myself, What can I get out of this? That’s how I keep my balance to make it to where I am now.

You have no choice but to think about those things when you work on other artists’ songs, especially when you’re a producer. SUGA: I’m BTS’s SUGA, and I’m Agust D, and when I’m producing, I go by “by SUGA.” But when it comes to by SUGA, I make perfectly commercial music. I’m the producer for those songs, sure, but the owner is someone else, you know? In that case, they’re commissioning my work. But they wouldn’t think about just leaving it all with SUGA. The artist’s label has to think carefully about whether to commission me for producing and consider my situation, too, and those people must be hoping for something commercial. That’s the most important part of working with outside people. Actually, that kind of work isn’t much of a benefit to me, to be honest. Oh, he can write this kind of song, too. That’s all. The more valuable thing I can get from it is the recognition and records the artist or the company will get with the song instead.

As you noted in your previous Weverse Magazine interview, when you discussed your “interest in the music industry in the US,” you seem to constantly think about the things artists can do within the framework of the music industry. SUGA: I don’t know. It’s just that I’ve become more certain since the pandemic started that I’m the kind of person who always has to be doing music. That much I know for sure, so I want to keep on making good music. And the pop music market is something that came about because there were people listening, and there’s a long history to the US music market, and it possesses the most influential charts in the whole word. So then I thought, Wouldn’t they have gone through all the same things that we have? And really, whenever I talk to other pop stars, the situation is always similar. The US is also more realistic about commercial results than any other country. I wanted an accurate picture of how those people work. Right now, Korean pop music’s spread is in full swing and we need more good artists to keep popping up. From a producer’s standpoint, if that’s going to happen, I think the key is how well we can mix our music and the characteristics of overseas music industries overall.

How did it feel to be in the lineup for the Grammy Awards, one of the icons of the US music industry? SUGA: The feeling was less immediate because we couldn’t be there in person, and it wasn’t a huge distinction, but the performance made me think, This is different, because it’s the Grammys. What changed my view from the first time I went to an American music awards ceremony was, the first time I went, I was really scared of the world’s biggest music market. But when I look back now, I don’t think I had any reason to feel that intimidated. To be honest, I have only now begun to enjoy the awards ceremonies; I wasn’t able to then.

It’s no exaggeration to say that you’ve achieved most of the things that you can as an artist in the music industry. What steps do you think are necessary for the artists who follow after BTS? SUGA: The way artists work seems so difficult. They make an appearance on a different music show every day once the promotional period begins, meaning the exhaustion artists face is enormous, and that fatigue often results in injuries as it adds up. That kind of music show is for promotional purposes, so it’s not like the artists can earn a proper income from them. On top of that, despite all the promoting, there’s no visible outcome, so they inevitably lose morale. If possible, it’d be nice to have one of the performances be really high-quality, even if it’s just the one, but in this environment I’d say that’s pretty difficult. And since our job doesn’t fit the common conception of work, there’s ambiguous boundaries when it comes to issues of legal protection as well. We need a lot of improvements to be made to the industry and its system.

They demand a lot of things as collateral for success, yet success is extremely difficult to attain. SUGA: The great thing about the label I’m with is they listen to the artists’ opinions. I think both we and the label know to a certain degree what kinds of activities would be best commercially speaking. But the question is whether the body can endure it or not. If the fatigue builds up as you continuously do those promotional activities, it’s hard to do them the way you did when you first debuted. In that case, I think the label ought to actively accommodate the artist’s views about what they can and cannot do. An attitude that’s just like, Oh, we made you kids, and as long as you just do what we tell you to it’ll all work out, so just do it—I think that really doesn’t make any sense. Of course, there could still be situations where the label has to be pushy like that, obviously. But I heard there’s been times where a label will just say, Do it, without any explanation to the artist, or, Why are you talking so much? I think that’s the biggest issue and it’s destroying the industry. If you just see the artist as a product, how can they do anything creative? I really think it’s very contradictory to ask the people on stage to put on an enjoyable performance when they’re experiencing neither fun nor enjoyment.

That reminds me of the music video for “Daechwita” somehow. You appear onscreen as both a rebel character and a king, looking as different as your situation when you first debuted with BTS and your situation now. SUGA: There was a lot I wanted to do in “Daechwita,” not just musically but also visually, and a lot of ideas came to me as I came to reflect on who I am as a person while working on the music video. It naturally occurred to me to separate SUGA, by SUGA and Agust D. The character I played in that video who wasn’t the king was a stranger. It takes place during the Joseon era, but then there’s cars and guns, which of course don’t belong in that era. I think we’ve been living our lives that way. Right from our debut, a portion of the hip hop lovers criticized us by saying, They’re idols. But at the same time, we heard things like, They’re not idols. I didn’t know which drumbeat to march to, so I think that’s why each of our albums took a different direction than people were expecting. But I don’t think I can call myself a stranger in this situation anymore. So these days my main goal is to keep going with BTS for a long time. Having a huge audience show up at our concerts is nice, but I think the goal for all of us is to make sure the group can keep making music even as we get older. I think right now we’re thinking a lot about how we can have fun and be happy on stage.

What do you mean when you say fun and happy music? SUGA: I think people are happier the busier I am, so lately I’ve been thinking that I need to focus a little more. I figure we should do as much as we can for ARMY since they feel happy watching us. We’ll continue to try our best, so I hope they believe in BTS and keep their eyes on us.

So that’s why you do music. SUGA: This is the only thing I know how to really do. Other than music and BTS, there’s nothing special about me when I look at this 28-year-old Min Yoongi. That’s why I want to keep doing this.

#yoongi #suga #bangtan #bts #210730 #interview

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aliwritesfic · 3 years

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First Date (Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader)

Summary: Frankie only downloaded Tinder after Santi basically forced him to one night, and he never expected to actually meet anyone on there.

Word count: 2.4k

Content warnings: Oral (F receiving), P in V, age gap, online dating, condom used

(I haven’t written creatively in almost 7 years so if this is a waste of time I apologise, also tagging @absurdthirst because i sent them an anon last night about being nervous to post this lmao)

Frankie looked at your photo again and rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. He wasn’t used to this whole online dating thing, and he certainly hadn’t expected to meet anyone on it. Pope swore by it for one-night stands and fuck buddies, and practically forced him to download the app and create a profile while they were all at their favourite bar and Benny had gone home with some girl. He’d swiped right on only a few people and made even less matches. Any conversations he’d had on there fizzled out after a few hours after telling them he didn’t have Snapchat, or Facebook, or Twitter, or anything else like that.

Then he’d matched with you.

Your profile was simple – a couple selfies, a photo on a hike with a beautiful staffy, and a group shot on a night out. Your bio was short and sweet – criminal justice and community welfare student, intersectional feminist, nerd. Lover of cheesy one liners and bad jokes.

Frankie had swiped right almost immediately. The only thing that gave him pause was the age gap – twelve years between you. There were bigger gaps, of course, but he’d never dated anyone more than two years younger.

“You’re both grown adults,” Pope said looking over his shoulder, “what the fuck are you waiting for?”

So, with that, Frankie swiped right and was instantly greeted with a match. His stomach jumped again as you sent the first message, a simple but effective ‘hey, what do teachers and ancient history have in common? They both Babylon!’

You both chatted for a few more days before Frankie decided enough was enough. He asked you out for dinner and drinks at a local sushi place that had recently opened. He felt ill as he waited for your reply, wondering if it was too soon. It was almost an hour later that you replied ‘YES! How’s fri at 8:30 sound?’

It was a date. His first in over a year. The boys had come over to help him get ready, feeling like he was in high school all over again.

Frankie stood outside the restaurant, wishing he hadn’t left his cap in the truck, or at least wishing he’d picked somewhere that didn’t seem like it had an unwritten dress code. But he’d wanted to impress, and the reviews of this place had been positive.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside and moved towards the hostess. “Table for two, under Morales.”

“Right this way sir,” the hostess smiled at him and led him towards a table near the back, and Christ you were already there.

You were even more beautiful in person, in a tight dark dress, heels and a denim jacket thrown over the back of your chair. You were reading the menu, a small frown on your face as you squinted at it. You didn’t even notice him approach until he was standing right next to you. When you looked up, your mouth transforming into a grin, his heart skipped a beat.

“Frankie?” You said, your name sounding like heaven on your lips. Frankie sat down opposite you, his palms suddenly sweaty.

“Hey,” he went to say your name and you cut him off with a wave of your hand.

“Please, everyone I like calls me Sunny,” you grinned at him and he knew exactly why.

“Well, Sunny,” Frankie felt himself grin back at you, “it’s nice to finally meet you properly.”

“I’ve been so nervous all day,” you admitted, “but a good nervous, like nervous excited. I was supposed to be making notes on one of my lectures today, but I couldn’t stop thinking about this date. It’s been so long since I’ve been on one, I just stressed myself out about it all day.”

“Well, that makes two of us,” Frankie laughed, relieved to know that the insanely beautiful woman in front of him was just as out of sorts as he was. He was beginning to feel more at ease with you already, something he hadn’t felt with someone new in a long while.

The waitress arrived then, beaming down at you as she asked if you were ready to order. Frankie ordered a plate of sashimi and a spicy crab roll, while you got a veggie roll, and you both ordered a shot of soju.

“Don’t like fish?”

You shrugged, “I’m allergic, not like deathly or anything but I get a rash and a really bad stomach ache. It sucked when I was travelling through Asia a few years ago.”

Frankie frowned, instantly regretting even suggesting the restaurant in the first place. “We can go somewhere else if you like,” he suggested, ready to do anything he could to make this a perfect first date.

“Oh god, no!” You smiled and Frankie’s stomach jumped. “I’ve been wanting to come here for a while now, so when you suggested it, of course I was gonna say yes.”

Frankie felt a little relieved at that, and you two talked for a while, waiting for your meals. He found out your dog was called Lola, you loved old music, and you were a disability support worker before your close cousin went to prison and you decided to enrol in university to study criminal justice. You found out he was a pilot, ex-military and he loved classic lit.

You continued to talk through your meal and several more drinks. He was beginning to deeply enjoy the sound of your voice, your laugh. You made him feel like you two were the only people in the room, everyone else was insignificant.

Eventually though, you both felt it was time to give up your table to someone actually paying. You tried to pay for your own meal and drinks, but Frankie insisted on paying. You both walked outside into the chilly night air, and Frankie couldn’t help but admire how beautiful you were even under the streetlights. You cleared your throat and Frankie noticed a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“I uh, I don’t really want this night to end, do you?” you asked. Frankie decided to do what he could feel himself wanting to do all night.

He stepped forward, closing the gap between you as he cupped your soft cheeks in his rough, calloused hands and kissed you. Your reaction was almost immediate, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and running your fingers through his hair, pressing your bodies together. Your tongue darted along his bottom lip and he instantly granted you access, his own tongue sliding into your mouth. He wanted you. Desperately.

“Do you want to come back to mine,” Frankie asked, his hands slid down to your waist, he kissed along your neck, feeling your pulse flutter under his lips. You moaned softly as his mouth found your collarbone.

“Yes,” you whispered, “god yes.”

He kissed you again, before breaking away to lead you back to his truck.

“How far?” you asked.

“Five minutes,” Frankie said, resting his hand on your upper thigh where the hem of your dress ended. He felt himself tighten in his jeans as he thought about what he wanted to do to you. He driver faster than necessary, turning the journey into a quick three minutes. Once the truck was off you didn’t waste a moment, pulling yourself onto his lap, straddling him between your thighs. Your lips met his frantically, like you were both starving for each other.

Frankie’s hardness pressed against his jeans as you ground against him. He kissed down along your neck and jaw, relishing in your soft moans. One hand stayed planted firmly on your ass, the other snaked up your body to your breasts, pulling your dress down to expose them. You weren’t wearing a bra, and the sight of your breasts in the silver moonlight was irresistible. Frankie’s lips kissed a path down your neck to your collarbone, down further still until he had a hard nipple in his mouth. His tongue flicked over it gently, while his hand played with the other, rolling it around between his finger.

“Frankie,” you moaned, arching your back to give him better access. “Fuck.”

“You like that baby?” he whispered looking up at you. You whimpered in response as the hand on your breast moved down your body toward your thighs.

“Please,” you spread your legs a little further for him, and his fingers began to massage your clit though your soaking underwear. Frankie’s tongue continued to work at your nipple licking and sucking while you cried out in pleasure.

His fingers teased the outside of your entrance, his thumb working your clit in methodical circles.

“Cum for me,” he murmured, his voice husky. You moaned in response, unable to form any words as his fingers slid easily inside of you. Frankie watched your face as he fingered you, his own cock straining against his jeans. God he wanted to fuck you, but not until you’d already cum for him.

Frankie moved his thumb in faster circles and you began to fall apart. You clenched around his fingers, crying out as your body shook with your orgasm. He moved his mouth up to kiss you, whispering between kisses.

“Fuck you’re so sexy,” he groaned.

“We need to go inside,” you panted, your body still trembling slightly. Frankie couldn’t agree more, fumbling with the door of his truck, then his house keys. The moment the door was open you were on him, pulling his jacket off his shoulders, unzipping his jeans. Your bodies moved together in the direction of the kitchen, knocking something down in the process.

Frankie moaned into your mouth as your hands glided up his torso under his shirt. He pressed you against the counter and lifted you up, yanking your dress down to your ankles in the process.

“I want to taste you,” he whispered in your ear, “do you want that?”

“Yes, Frankie, please,” you begged, desperate for him to touch you. He grinned slyly as he crouched down slightly in front of you and spread your legs. The sight of your underwear, drenched with desire, made his mouth water.

Frankie didn’t want to waste a single moment more. With one quick move he slid your underwear down your legs and was working your clit with his tongue. Two fingers moved inside of you and quirked in a come-hither motion.

Your whine of pleasure spurred him on, his tongue massaging your clit expertly. Frankie wanted to tell you how good you tasted, how sexy you sounded, but he didn’t want to waste a moment that could be spent pleasuring you.

“Frankie!” you gasped, your back arching. Your thighs pressed into the side of his head and he moved faster, harder, cock aching with the need to be inside you.

“Frankie, I’m gonna-“ your words were cut short by your orgasm, this one somehow more intense than the one in his truck. Frankie looked up at your face as you came, mouth never leaving your sweet wetness. Your head hung back, moans the only sound you’re able to make. Licking his lips, Frankie stood and cupped the back of your head gently, lifting it so he can look in your eyes. He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve someone as beautiful as you come home with him, but he wants to make certain it’s worth your while.

He leant down and whispered your name, the sound sweet on his lips. You sat up and kissed him gently, tasting yourself on him.

“Where’s your bed?” you murmured and Frankie smiled against you. Without another word he picked you up easily, wrapping your legs around his waist and carried you to his room, laying you gently on the bed. You looked beautiful, naked in the moonlight, staring up at him with desire.

Frankie discarded the rest of his clothes and climbed onto the bed so he’s hovering over you. His fingers traced soft circles on your waist.

“Are you sure you want to?” he asked

“I need you in me,” you reached up and pulled him closer, “I need you.”

Frankie reached over to his dresser and grabbed a condom, saying a silent thanks to his past self for buying them, and fitted it onto his shaft. Then he couldn’t wait a moment longer.

He lined himself up at your slick entrance, and slowly, gently, not wanting to hurt you with his larger than average size. You whimpered slightly as he pulled out, bucking your hips to stay closer to him.

Fuck you felt so good, you tight walls clenching slightly with each thrust. His thrusts became harder, slamming into you as his own ecstasy built. He moaned your name as you held onto his biceps, nails digging into his warm sweaty skin.

He didn’t know how much longer he could hold off on his own release, and with you looking at him they way you were, you made it almost impossible to hold back. But no, he wouldn’t. Not until you came a third time for him. He needed to feel you cum with his cock inside you.

Frankie moved his hand so it was between you both, and began to massage your slick, swollen clit. You cried out and clenched his biceps harder, and he felt the moment you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer, your walls tightening around his cock, coating it with your pleasure.

“Cum, Frankie,” you whispered in his ear, and god he wanted to. Frankie grunted as he finally couldn’t hold back any longer. Pleasure flushed through his body as he came to the sound of you moaning his name. In that moment, the only tangible things were his orgasm, the feel of you and your voice. It was a few moments before his thoughts became coherent again. He had never experienced pleasure like that with any other woman.

Reluctantly, he pulled out of you, noticing a bead of sweat that had formed between your breasts. Your eyes were half closed, but you watched him as he discarded the condom into a wastebasket, grabbed a box of tissues and with a touch gentler than he thought possible for him, began to clean up between your legs.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured. “Do you know how amazing you are?”

You giggled softly, sitting up to kiss him. “You’re the one who made me cum three times. Most guys can’t even manage once.”

Frankie stroked your cheek, his forehead pressed against yours, deciding in that moment you were someone he did not want to let go of. “Wanna stay the night?”

“Fuck yes.”

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie smut

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how-masterful · 3 years

Text

To Have Your Cake (And Eat It Too)

Dhawan!master x Reader

Summary: The Master has gotten himself tied up. On your birthday of all days. Stuck in a straightjacket and with no idea how long its going to last, you decide to treat your Time lord with a share of your sweet and sinful birthday desires

Notes: for the second year in a row, this is the official how masterful birthday fic™ for her absolutely beloved @plethora-of-imagines . happy birthday, my love! I hope through all the chaos of losing the first draft, flaky internet connections, and a crippling desire for this fic to work out, you hopefully enjoy your birthday gift! 🥳❤💫

this fic was partly inspired by this piece of artwork by @/thoscheii

The Master tugged angrily on his arms, for the fifth time that minute. He grit his teeth together, yanking his shoulders downwards.

It was a fruitless effort.

The straight jacket still refused to budge.

“I’ve tried everything, Master. You really are stuck in there until those time locks fall off.”

He tugged once more, before sighing and sinking back into his chair.

“Great. Absolutely magnificent.”

It was a stupid idea. You’d told him as such. The planet of the bachelors, solo men that thrived on their isolation from women. Females within the species simply didn't exist. The Master had seemingly decided the best idea in the universe, something he’d say about every new plan, would be to try and blend in in order to steal some exciting world destroying weapons (and obviously refuse to tell you about the details). It would be an absolute piece of cake, he’d decreed as soon as he’d planned it- sneak in, steal the plans, sneak out. It would only take fifteen minutes or so. That was 7 hours ago.

However, in his pride and… underestimation of the species’ intelligence, he’d made a single, glaring oversight.

He hadn't taken the bloody wedding ring off of his finger.

“Have you really tried everything?”

You turned from your position leant against the console, sending him an offended expression. The Tardis hummed and whirred in your defence.

“Yes! Every single idea you gave me!”

“Are you sure?”

You widened your eyes in an expression that hopefully conveyed to him it wouldn't be wise to ask again. The Tardis beeped rapidly, hoping to dissolve the tension. Still leaning against the console you folded your arms, looking down at your husband.

“Yes, Master. I promise. I really think you’re just gonna have to wait this one out.”

The Master let out a loud and rather obnoxious groan. He let his head fall back, scrunching up his face in a look of pure annoyance. But even that expression of disappointment, and most likely rage, couldn't be fully executed. The thick red collar that sat around his neck propped up his head like a neck brace.

To his credit, taking off his ring wasn't something he had to do often. Since the day he’d put it on for the first time it never seemingly came off. That was part of his overt sentimentality that you secretly adored. Plus, it hadn’t caused any problems for the pair of you. The ring, a golden band engraved with endless circular Gallifreyan, sat snugly on his finger and often shone, even in low light. It acted as a symbol, a sign to other creatures great and small that he was indeed a taken Time Lord. It matched your own, your wedding band sharing the same design that comfortably nested itself upon your own hand. Of course, yours had to share a finger with the engagement ring- a white point star, shrunken perfectly to sit and shimmer in a band forged from the oldest nugget of gold in the universe.

You looked down at the ring, smiling fondly at the glimmering star that sat on your finger. It shifted and refracted at even the smallest of movements, even in the low light of the Tardis. From there you looked up to see the Master still trying to flop back his head, grumbling and muttering something most likely threatening to himself. You tilted your head, watching him struggle, before carefully making your way over to sit yourself down in his lap. Taking his face in your hands you carefully brushed over his cheeks with your thumbs, the anger and rage that simmered in his expression slowly melting away as he stared up at you with a rare, rather defeated expression.

It wasn't often that the Master was the one in need of saving. At least in the typical, damsel in distress sort of way. It was no secret that the Master had a history of getting in over his head, especially when it came to the Doctor and their centuries long rivalry- from the Autons all the way to the Kasaavin, the Master would sometimes need that extra helping hand. But with you, he was always so proudly in command. The Master of the situation, one could say. With you he would stride in, proudly taking control over every situation: if you were in danger he’d burst in burning with unstoppable rage, guns blazing- more likely TCE blazing, and would happily destroy anything and anyone that was in the path between you and him. Only now it was him that required the whole rescuing thing.

Seeing him like this, bound in a jacket with timed locks that simply refused to budge, almost made him look humbled. But of course he wouldn't let something so small destroy his persistent (And slightly enjoyable) egomania.

“It suits you, y’know.”

The Master rolled his eyes.

“Is that your way of making me feel better?”

“I’m serious. I never thought I'd say it, but you suit a collar and straight jacket.”

The Master bit back a laugh, sending you an incredulous expression.

“Really? Is that so? Because I feel like a knock off Houdini. Even I don't deserve that.”

You pouted dramatically, sticking out your bottom lip. Your hand reached up to ruffle his already messy hair, earning an even angrier scowl.

“You’re enjoying yourself far too much. Just you wait until I get out of here.”

“Aw, is the big bad Master angry he's got his collar on and matches his wife?”

The Master gave a reluctant laugh, narrowing his eyes like a cat. You tickled under his chin with your fingers, enjoying watching him attempt to squirm away. You could tell he was trying so hard to seem offended, but the way he subtly titled his head to grant you more access to the strip of skin under his chin made you believe otherwise.

It was also undeniable that the thick red collar that sat around his neck matched your own. It seemed, to the Master, that his collaring of you was a pre marriage arrangement. Your own was a rich, purple leather that curved around your throat, lined with golden velvet that sat flush against your skin. Golden hardware, buckles and rings decorated the piece, making the thing look incredibly lavish and expensive- and judging by the Masters taste, it probably was.

“Don't patronise me, love.”

The Master was scowling again. It looked rather cute. You placed a quick peck to the top of his forehead, watching him scowl in return.

“I can't help it Master, you look like a kicked puppy. All grumpy and angry. You know Its your own fault you got into this mess.”

The Master opened his mouth, ready to argue to the ends of the earth as to how he wasn't responsible for the consequences of his own actions. This argument was neither new, nor something you wanted to get into again.

Suddenly, you had a thought. It was a naughty thought, rather nefarious.

Though not deadly, the thought was slightly dangerous. If only for what the Master might do when he finally got free. Yes, this was an ample opportunity for you to follow through, and use the new situation to your advantage. He’d be so proud, you thought, if it wasn't him in said situation.

You pushed your finger against the Master's lips, catching the Time Lord slightly off guard. Once again, his eyes narrowed.

“Move. Your. Finger.”

“I’m pretty sure this is the universal symbol of shut up and listen, Master.”

The Time Lord pressed his lips into a thin line, glaring absolute daggers in your direction. Slowly you pulled your finger away from his lips, moving your face so close your noses almost touched.

“Fine, I'm listening.”

“Of all the days, Master. You had to choose today. Lucky for you, the Tardis thinks there's not much time left on those time locks. Lucky for me, it gives me just enough time to have some fun with you.”

If the Master's eyes were narrow before, now they were creeping wide. You could see the calculations his brain was performing behind his eyes, all the thoughts and possibilities swirling around in his head like brain soup. Rarely was the Master ever in a situation where somebody intended to have fun with HIM. Usually it was the other way around. This was a new sensation, a feeling of which the Master in all his years of existence had yet to fully comprehend.

Was this… what nervousness felt like?

It wasn't long until he was about to find out.

In all his time, cataloguing his thoughts and trying to figure out what you could possibly mean, the Master failed to notice you slipping from his lap and heading off towards the kitchen. With a skip in your step, you quickly made your way towards the piece of delicious, freshly baked cake that sat under the crystal glass dome on the counter top- grabbing a fork on your journey back as you circled, returning to the door from which you came.

Quickly scarpering back to the console room, you could see the Master still thinking, his eyebrows furrowed as he tugged at the jacket once more. He really did look like a curious cat, sneering at the problem at hand while also being absolutely fascinated. You carefully made your way towards the Time Lord, letting out a small cough to break him from his focus. Suddenly, his head snapped up towards you, his mess of hair flying backwards as he looked from your smug expression to the plate in your hand, before turning back to your face with a knowing look.

The large triangle of birthday cake, decorated in thick frosting and rainbow sprinkles, sat upon the fine china plate.

“What are you up to now?”

“You decided to get yourself tied up on my birthday. You’re going to enjoy this slice of cake with me even if I have to feed you it by hand. Now open.”

The Master watched intently as you held the fork to his lips, sending you an unimpressed expression.

“There's nothing on it.” he deadpanned.

“I know that,” you sighed. “Hold it for me while I get myself comfortable.”

The Master rolled his eyes, before opening his lips and taking the fork between his teeth. He looked like those flamenco dancers that would brandish a rose in their mouth while dancing, only slightly less flamboyant. Though the Master definitely was no stranger to flamboyance, if his past regenerations and even more recent plans were anything to go off.

“What on earth are you planning?” he mumbled through gritted teeth, watching you precariously place the plate upon his thigh. His eyes watched with absolute wonder as he saw what you were doing.

Carefully, in front of the Time Lord, you began to tug at the hem of your underwear from beneath the already rather short dressing gown- the pile of clothes you’d rescued him in already sat in a pile in the corner of the room. You slowly shimmied your panties down your legs, his eyes never leaving your body as you purposely drew out your movements. You could tell the Master was fascinated, the way his chest had begun to rise and fall slightly faster than usual. Methodically you teased him, slipping the underwear from your legs and throwing them on to the pile. Your hands then slowly wandered to the Master's knees, the Time Lord taking in a deep breath as you fiddled with the zipper of his trousers, pulling it down to expose his underwear. You took hold of the plate on his thigh before it toppled, using your other hand to pull down the waistband of the Masters underwear, carefully freeing the Masters hardening cock. You could hear him let out a low, guttural groan behind the fork.

Without breaking his gaze you straddled over his thighs, pushing your body against his own as you sank yourself down to sit on his now firm cock. You gasped softly as you felt him inside you, the Masters left eye practically twitching as he bit down on the fork in his mouth. You rocked backwards and forwards a couple times, settling yourself down in his lap, before you brought the plate to sit between your chest and his own. Soon after, you finally reached to pull the fork from between his teeth. The Master was staring at you, wordlessly, lightly panting for breath as you smiled oh so innocently.

“There,” you teased. “Much comfier.”

The Master was working his way towards catching his breath.

“You know… if you were anybody else… I'd kill you for this.”

You laughed lightly, measuring out the size of the first bite with the prongs of the fork.

“Good. Because if anybody else did this to you, I'd kill them as well. You’re my husband after all.”

“You’re getting far too cheeky, love. I think you need reminding who's in charge here.”

You leant forwards in the Masters lap, purposely shifting your hips. You couldn't help but smile at the involuntary gasp he gave.

“What are you going to do, Master? Spank me? With what hands?”

The Master met your gaze, matching your expression. Your faces were mere inches away from each others, your eyes daring each other to make the next move.

“You’re in so much trouble after this.”

“You can't punish the birthday girl, Master. That's just plain old rude.”

The Master chuckled fondly.

“Forgive me for misplacing my manners, dearest. I must’ve left them with my hands.”

“Apology accepted.”

You nipped at the end of his nose with your teeth, before giggling cheekily and leaning in for a kiss. The Master, in all his superiority and domination, couldn't help but kiss back. He always failed to stay fully angry at you. Your noses brushed together as you stole a kiss from each other's mouths, the pair of you dissolving into quiet laughter once you parted.

“Let me have this moment, Master. Please.”

The Master pondered for a moment, tilting his head dramatically to the side and watching your hopeful expression blossom onto your face. He huffed out a sigh, looking up at you with another defeated expression. Only this one was full of genuine fondness.

“Fine.” he sighed finally. “Because it's your birthday.”

Your smile was absolutely beaming. You pulled the end chunk of cake onto the fork, holding it up to the Masters mouth. The frosting was almost dripping back onto the plate from the fluffy, bite sized piece. He parted his lips, waiting for you to place the cake into his mouth.

“Say please, Master.”

“Don't push it, Y/n.”

You simply shrugged in return, before placing the cake into the Master's mouth. As he chewed you gently began to circle your hips, lightly moving atop his cock, generating a small amount of friction. The Master gave a quiet moan, letting his eyes flutter shut as the cake melted on his tongue. He licked at his lips, catching the small trail of frosting and sprinkles that had remained on his lips.

“How is it?” you purred softly.

The Master smacked his lips together, before giving a lazy smile.

“I’m enjoying myself more than I anticipated.”

“Poor Master, did you think I was going to torture you?”

The Master chuckled as you offered him another piece of cake, parting his lips and watching you intently as you teasingly pulled the fork slowly from his mouth. You continued to twist and circle your hips, the Master's eyes watching you almost hypnotically. You could feel a hot flush begin to creep up your face, the apples of your cheeks blushing a sweet red as your shoulders began to relax. The Master smirked, watching you break off another chunk of the sprinkle covered cake. Only this time you placed it into your own mouth.

You could see why the Master reacted so positively. The flavours swirled and collided in your mouth, your taste buds exploding with sensory pleasure. Your hips swivelled and rocked, much like clockwork, as you rolled your head over your shoulders and gave a deep moan of pleasure.

“Shit, that's a good cake.” you admitted, fluttering open your eyes. The Master was licking his lips, hands lightly tugging on the straightjacket as you licked the frosting from your teeth.

“It's almost as nice as our first wedding cake.”

“Go on, take another bite.”

Weakly, you nodded, breaking off another chunk with the fork and placing it on your tongue. The ‘yes Master’ you gave was almost a whisper.

You did the same for your husband, feeding him another chunk of the cake while continuously building a rhythm of motion atop his cock. The Master was groaning, harder than before, a light sweat beginning to form on his brow. He couldn't help but notice how much closer you’d pressed yourself to his torso, the cake almost sliding from the plate that was now practically diagonal against your chest.

“Y’know, it's not the first time I've worn something like this.” the Master admitted between mouthfuls.

“Seriously?” your voice was almost lost behind a moan.

“White straightjacket, red collar, I think they- fuck- chose something from my personal history to cage me in.”

The Master was now beginning to thrust his hips up against yours, jostling your rhythm and causing you to give a shocked gasp of pleasure. The plate almost fell from your chest, barely being caught by your spare hand and the edge of the fork.

“Master, yes-”

You bit your bottom lip to suppress the guttural moan you wanted to give. The sweetness of the cake mixed with the burning deep in your belly was causing your senses to go into overdrive. The Master was methodical, thrusting up as best he could with the top of his body tied in place. His movements were sending chills shooting up your spine, knowing exactly how to make you gasp for breath and beg for more. He always knew exactly what you desired, his body and mind instinctively understanding every primal desire you had. Maybe you were just obvious. Or perhaps he was more sentimental than he let on.

Soon the once imposing slice of cake was nothing more than a single section. Crumbs and sprinkles poked from the corners of your mouth and onto your lips, the Master's teeth gnashing upwards in a bid to lick them away. Your speed and ferocity had increased to the point where you needed to stabilize yourself atop the Masters thrusting cock. Both of you had begun to sweat. Something needed to give.

“Master, I need, fuck-”

“I swear to god, let me taste you.”

The Master was panting like an animal.

“The plate-”

“Fuck the plate. I’ll buy you as many as you want. Come here, do as you’re told.”

You gave an inhumane snarl as the fork clattered to the floor, your fingers grasping hold of the last square of cake. Frosting oozed down your fingers as you relented your grip on the plate, the small black plate crashing down onto the hard wood and shattering into thousands of shards. The Master opened wide as you bucked your hips, your fingers pushing the cake firmly against his mouth. Sprinkles and crumbs smeared over the Masters lips as you abandoned all inhibition, your own mouth diving in to follow as your lips crashed together in an animalistic kiss. Teeth and tongues slashed and battled for control as the sweet concoction oozed down your throats, the taste of the frosting melting into the taste of each others mouths.

Crumbs and sticky decoration stained the clean white straightjacket as your fingers clasped hold of the Masters shoulders, your forehead pushing against his as he snarled into the kiss. Your hips thrusted furiously against his own, the pair of you rising and falling against the back of the chair as you begged for friction and every sensation you were willing to share. Your fingers fisted into the back of the Master's hair, the other hand stroking down his back and running over the intricate set of time locks that connected the jacket together in an intricate lattice of latches. You tugged on them as you went, growing deeper into the kiss as you bounced yourself up and down in the Masters lap.

You could feel yourself getting close to the precipice of satisfaction, the Master's teeth nipping at your bottom lip as his tongue licked over the mess. Your noses pushed together as you hissed in delight, your body clamouring for release as you whined pathetically in his ear.

“Master, so close” you begged, tugging on his earlobe with your teeth.

The Master snapped his teeth together, pushing his forehead against his own.

“Don't you dare cum” he barked, groaning as you licked down the side of his face.

“Please, please I can't-”

“Listen to your Master” he growled in your ear. As if that would do anything but make it worse.

The Master continued to thrust and groan, his face flush almost as red as his collar as he edged you closer and closer to release. You struggled to even control your mouth, groans and cries of pleasure escaping your throat as you completely fell apart in the Masters lap. Everything was building up inside of you, your body absolutely ready to feel the warm wave of release course through your very being. All you were waiting on was the Masters word.

And then it finally arrived.

“Cum”

You felt your whole body ricochet from the sudden release of pressure. Your scream was painfully desperate as you felt yourself fold into nothingness in the Masters lap. You gave in completely, the warmth spreading through your entire body as you climaxed hard and fast upon the Masters still hard cock. Tears were mixing with the streaming sweat as you slumped forward against the Master's chest, the Time Lord chuckling as your exhausted eyes fluttered shut on impact. You were about to sleepily flirt, much like usual, sweetening the already malleable Master with your flattering words and praises, when a loud bang sent your eyes flying wide open.

One by one, the time locks that ran up the Masters spine unclasped and plummeted down to the floor, collecting in a heap as they slid through the back of the chair. You picked your head up to look at the Master, sweat dripping from his brow and sprinkles caught in his stubble, watching as the Time Lords face slowly began to spread into a dangerous grin. You felt a chill go down your spine as he slowly began to unfold his arms, forcing you to sit up in his lap, supporting yourself by pushing down on his thighs.

“Well then”

The Master purred, pulling his arms free from their clasps. His fingers wriggled within the triangle shaped tip of the sleeve, his hands reaching up to slickly unclasp the thick red collar from around his neck. It fell to the floor, joining the locks, fork, and what was left of the plate. He looked down at you with a typical, Masterful, Cheshire cat grin.

“Would you look at that?”

Instinctively you gulped, looking up at the Master as he lifted your chin with his cloth covered fingers.

“Now I don't know about you, love, but I've noticed you’ve been getting a little bit too cheeky for my liking.”

At best, you sent him a weak smile. You knew what was about to happen.

“And I have hands now. Lucky, lucky you.”

“I'm guessing you’re going to punish me now, aren't you Master?”

The Master shushed you, tutting as he shook his head. He still clasped your chin in his hand.

“You said it yourself, dear. I can't punish the birthday girl. But I can encourage her to help me get the release I so lovingly provided for her. It's only fair, after all. If there happens to be a lesson or two learned in the process? Call that an added bonus.”

You chuckled weakly as the Master guided you to stand, supporting your still twitching hips as you sent him a wry smile.

“Y’know Master, there's a phrase we have on earth. You can't have your cake and eat it too.”

The Master tilted his head, his mouth making a small ‘o’ shape as he crooked an eyebrow. It soon melted away into a gentle smile, his fingers tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Oh, my love.” he grinned, a chuckle building in his throat as he pecked the top of your forehead.

“I just did.”

All of a sudden you felt yourself being lifted into the air, the impact of the Masters shoulder against your stomach knocking the wind out of your system. He barked out a proud laugh as he raised a hand to spank your already reddened ass, his teeth nipping at the soft flesh of your hip as you gave a surprised yelp.

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” he cried, laughing as he carried you towards the bedroom, where god knows what painful pleasure awaited you.

“I hope the birthday girl has room for seconds!”

#doctor who #sacha dhawan #the master #bbc doctor who #dhawan!master #bbc #sacha!master #spymaster #doctor who season twelve #dhawan!master / reader #dhawan!master x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #master x you #the master x you #the master x reader #reader #reader insert

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legends-live-in-memories · 4 years

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“How Did All This Happen?”- A Memoire by one Marinette Dupain-Cheng 1

Soooooo I decided to write this. much longer than the other things i posted, also very tonally different. I will definitely continue that other fic tho. I was just brainstorming and now this exists. Yeah.

without further ado

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

People Fucked Up and Now It’s All Marinette’s Mess to Clean Up I

This was not how Marinette planned for her night to go. Granted, she also could not envision it going literally any other way. The woes of making a deal with the hell-raiser himself, John Constantine, she supposes. She truly hoped Adrien was having a much better time than her with his cousin in London. After the circus that was the past three years, he deserved some reprieve, even if it was with his bratty doppelganger. Regardless, Marinette. Was. Not. Pleased. No matter how many times she thinks over her plan, recalculates every step and decision, she could not fathom this night ending well for her, or anyone really, but mostly her. And no amount of old Ladybug or Guardian luck could help her. Now, if one were to wonder what kind of tragedy had befallen Marinette on this disgraceful night, a brief history of the last three months could enlighten such a person. Or better yet, let’s start at the beginning. The Real Beginning.

So, things existed. Obviously. First there was nothing, and then, something. And as more things began to exist, as new schools of knowledge and concepts and ideas began to, well, exist, Kwamis formed as well. Each Kwami was the physical manifestation of these ideas or abstracts. Creation was the first, coupled with Destruction. And as more things began to exist, more things began needing to be protected. Thus, the Kwami of Protection. This went on. For a while. Soon thereafter there were Kwamis of all types. Jubilation, Time, Strength, etc, etc, and etc. Now these Kwamis did not linger in one spot. They roamed across the far stretches of existence and interacted with the life they found.

Some Kwamis decided to form a magical pact which intergalactic historians would later dub the Emotional Electromagnetic Spectrum. Sounds familiar? The Kwamis themselves were completely blissfully unaware of this title, lest they would have explained to these beings, Maltusians they were called, that they were not in fact, electromagnetic but more so a part of the Powers that Be. Kind of. But this side-story involves the formation of a few universally known Lantern Corps, and that is a barrel of monkeys our exasperated narrator does not want to touch with a ten-foot pole. Or ever.

Other Kwamis, who stuck close to what would become known as the Milky Way, were discovered by a mage who granted them the ability to interact with humans. This mage— and Marinette was silently cursing his descendants, herself included, for if it weren’t for this absolute mad lad, none of the subsequent events of this night would have transcribed—had bound the Kwamis to magical jewelry called Miraculouses. An interesting side effect of these Kwamis being bound to the miraculouses was that the wearer could call upon the powers of the Kwamis for their own usage. The mage feared what could become of the world if this kind of power became so easily accessible, so he created the Order of the Guardians. The Order was dedicated to training young mages to protect, wield and harvest the powers of the miraculouses. The Order swore to true neutrality; wishing not to impose their will on one side or the other, to maintain balance and to not upset the natural order of the world.

This went surprisingly well for a few millennia, that is, of course, if you ignore the sinking of Atlantis, the extinction of the dinosaurs, the Black Plague, the creation of the Lazarus Pits, Pompeii, to name a few completely egregious instances—not necessarily in order of course—and well, the point stands that it could have been astronomically worse. Until it was.

One young mage and Guardian in training had caused the downfall of almost the entire Order of the Guardians. All the centuries of history, teachings, artifacts and even the people at the head temple, were lost to the calamity. Dozens of Miraculous Boxes were lost, destroyed in the fray. The Kwamis themselves were relatively unaffected, being immortal and all, but the magical jewelry binding them to the earth were broken, thus those Kwamis were lost to mankind once again. Only one singular box, and the young mage himself, survived. The new Guardian of one miraculous box was left to scour the earth in solitude. Well, about as much solitude one could have with 17 pocket gods as company. The fact that the only box that survived was missing two more miraculouses caused the already stressed guardian to grey further. But that tidbit of information would be a problem for later. And for someone else entirely too. Oh joy.

But before that sequence of events, aptly named “Marinette’s Trial by Fire,” however, the young guardian had a couple more life mistakes to make before he reached his internal quota apparently. Rather than travel to another sector of the Order on the other side of the earth, this young mage stumbled upon another organization, one similar in architecture and hierarchy but a pendulum swing in the total moral opposite. Yes, that’s right, the guardian found himself upon the League of Shadows, led by Ra’s Al Ghul in his endeavor of global cleansing; by acts of ecoterrorism, but who sweats the small stuff, right? There, the young guardian, who adopted the name of Wang Fu, met his first love Ming Hong and they had a son. The son had a daughter he named Mei. Now Mei was only a few weeks younger than Ra’s Al Ghul’s grandson, Damian. Now with an appropriate heir, and someone to procreate with said heir, Ra’s Al Ghul gained a special interest in the small Fu family that originally flew under the radar of the League.

Now this is where things continue to go downhill, but not until much, much later in this story. Ra’s Al Ghul, despite his radical ambitions, was particularly good at playing the long game and understood when he couldn’t accomplish a task directly. This being said, he recognized that, due to prolonged exposure to the Lazarus Pits, his soul could not bear the strain of being a wielder of a miraculous and so he waited. Waited until a suitable heir was sired and could copulate with an heir to the guardian of the miraculous box, desiring to create a bloodline of genetically suitable successors and wielders who were loyal to him and his cause.

Ra’s ordered for the Fu family to have a place on his court and ordered for Mei Fu to be trained in mastering the secrets of the miraculous. And master she did. By age 6 she was fluent in the coded language of the magical text, or as fluent a 6 year old can be in any language, and she had mastered 7 out the 17 miraculouses. By age 10 she was as skilled as the grandson of the Demon Head in combat and could handle simultaneous wear of 3 miraculouses. Her training, however, had to be put on hold as somebody thought usurping the Demon Head was of the utmost importance that glorious Tuesday and staged a coup. She wished Deathstroke had lost more than an eye that day, but a girl can dream she supposes. Mei and her grandfather were separated from the rest of the League and journeyed west. Somehow they ended up in Paris, France. After one too many run ins with the authorities, Mei was removed from her grandfather, who was deemed too unfit to support her. It was a miracle he wasn’t deported.

Mei was put into protective custody where she resided until she was 13. Recently adopted, and thoroughly done with the plebeians of her daily encounters, Mei Fu became Marinette Dupain-Cheng, daughter of the best bakers in Paris. All was well and good for the new Dupain-Cheng until the start of the new school year.

She met her grandfather again. And apparently he had a job for her and her soon to be new partner.

Hawkmoth, that bitch, had somehow acquired the two last surviving miraculouses and the only surviving grimoire and thought domestic terrorism was on the agenda for the next few years. Why? Because investing in a family therapist was too much of an inconvenience for local recluse, Gabriel McFucking Agreste, Marinette would shortly learn.

After dealing with all of that and juggling between her reignited guardian training, and ‘normal’ girl life—because her parents don’t know that she’s a magical girl in the making—, Marinette was ready to sleep for a thousand years. Or commit murder. Whichever gave her enough serotonin to complete her current passion project. But, alas, no rest for the totally-over-it or however that saying goes. Because after declaring Paris safe once again, sending off her brother-in-arms, Adrien Agreste, to family in London (marginally decent but anything beats the abusive prick of a sperm donor), in waltz one drunken John Constantine.

Ah yes. Him. That absolute bastard who doesn’t deserve nice things in life. That guy.

This unpleasantry approached Master Fu and Marinette, who has been regulated to errand-girl in lieu of training, with a job that he proclaimed that only one blessed with magic, and specifically NOT connected to the Justice League could accomplish. Apparently, a group called the Cult of the Kobra resided on Santa Prisca and was in possession of a dangerous magical artifact that had been the backbone of their organization for years. Constantine came to them asking them for assistance in retrieving it as the Justice League could not interfere in the Caribbean due to new UN legislation. It was a mission of utmost urgency for he feared the cult leader, Kobra himself, was planning on enacting a ritual that could bring calamity to Earth. Which is just what the doctor ordered. Not. In exchange, he agreed to add to her magical training as while master Fu was good, he was still young when he ran away from his problems the first time and thus was limited in his magical knowledge.

That was three months ago. Three months of planning, training, and convincing her parents that letting her go on an extended retreat for an undetermined amount of time with her mostly absent biological grandfather was totally reasonable for the seventeen year old to do. Like, come on. She’s almost old enough to drink, almost ready for university and has been praised for her independence and self-sufficiency for years. She’ll be fine is what she told her parents and she was almost able to convince herself of that too. She would be perfectly fine. Right?

Wrong.

Marinette was anything but fine. She was stressed, she was tired and she was abso-fucking-lutely pissed at anything that even breathed in her direction. Why? Well that brings us back to the beginning of the story when everything on this mission did not go according to plan. So here she was along what was once upon a time the eastern coastline of Santa Prisca. Oh and look. The Junior Justice League has arrived.

Purrrrfect.

Some one asked for a taglist. Ask and ye shall receive

@deathwishy @neakco @ virtualreading @f-rget-lt @your-resident-chicken-nugget

#maribat #marinette x damian #daminette #i was bored and left unattended #no salt in case you were wondering #yes i am looking at you antis who feel like stalking this tag #im not tagging characters cuz reasons #badass!marinette dupain cheng #idk what plot this is going to have or how heavy the romance is but this just exists so #i wrote this at 1 am #hdath #thats the fic tag im gonna use if i post more

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nightofnyx8 · 3 years

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2021: greatest hits

I was tagged by the lovely @onelargecoffeepls to list 10 good things that happened this year! Here we go! ❤

1) I got married! It was such a lovely day (that I honestly don't remember much of haha) but to begin sharing my life with my husband has been such a journey full of ups and downs and I get to choose him every day ❤

2) I was accepted into a choir that I've always wanted to be a part of :) My goodness, it is hard music but it's almost surreal to sing with talented voices and be around good people that I've grown to love so much.

3) FMA! I got introduced to Fullmetal Alchemist and started writing fanfiction for it, and honestly it's been one of my greatest joys! I gotten to be part of such an incredible fandom with the most amazing people and I get to obsess over Royai even more next year!

4) Travel. Best trip of the year was definetly going to Cancun for my honeymoon. It's such a beautiful place and the people and culture are so rich and would 10/10 recommend.

5) Going back to in-person classes. My university's pretty strict on Covid precautions, but being able to learn music in a classroom setting again has done wonders for my mental health.

6) Getting my senior voice recital over with and being so close to graduating! Now I just have a year of student teaching left!

7) Learning to live gentler. I really struggled with my depression last year (hi covid) and it's slowly been getting a bit better. Therapy, opening up to people, and even writing fanfiction has given me a purpose to look forward to every day.

8) Saying yes to things! I'm such a shy person by nature, and of course it's completely fine to say no to some things! But I felt like I was shutting down too many opportunities so I decided to stretch myself, and it ended up leading to so many good things in my life this year that have brought me great joy.

9) Going running in the mornings. It helps me focus my day and get me going, no matter how late I wake up. And yeah, I won't be running any marathons soon, but the best fanfic ideas come to me when I'm out running!

10) Take life one day at a time. It's okay to make mistakes. You deserve to be loved. You deserve to be happy. A little kindness goes a very long way. There are better days ahead.

Happy New Years! May it be more gentle and kind to you than last year, and may you find the happiness and peace you seek. ❤ I'd like to tag @klainelynch @roseofbattles and @lantur <3 (and really anyone else who wants to do it)

#thank you for the tag!#happy 2022!

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fyeah-bangtan7 · 3 years

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SUGA: “This is the only thing I know how to really do”

#bangtan #suga #m:weverse magazine #210731

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hermitcraftheadcanons · 4 years

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(Submitting these all together, rather than my original plan to post them bit by bit as parts, since the reaction/addition thing seemed like it was wigging out on me a little bit. Treat this as a reaction/addition, if you can. :P)

Okay, so as there's a cut off now, you're getting my ideas together in bulk, so apologies for that. Some might be a little patchy, as i've not had much time to think over it all. First, though, I want to tell you how fun reading Scattered has been. Only discovered it yesterday, but its been great. Even if you're closing it now, I hope you either open it again in future or do something of a similar vibe.

Anyway, first on the list of random ideas is something that pertains to the changes some of the Hermits have gone through. At first, and for a long time, it seems as if its just Hermits who were stuck in death loops or in a single place for a long time and were forced to adapt who took on these traits... but after over a year of being stuck in the glitched world, it becomes clear its happening to everyone - those with extreme circumstances just had it happen faster.

The first time this becomes apparent is with Stress.

She and False managed to escape from both their coral situation and the months spent travelling - both on their own and with Keralis and Cleo - without any alterations, but after several months back at spawn... Stress begins to feel the cold in a way that she hasn't since Xisuma helped to fix her ice glitch at the start of Season 7. She knows this feeling, and she doesn't like it, but its not exactly the same this time. It feels more malevolent and structured than her free flowing chill was... almost like the powers of an Iceologer. It makes it clear that these adaptations aren't just adaptations. People are just overall reverting to states more reminiscent of the non-player mobs. Death and environment are just catalysts that speed it along. Soon or later, this begins to happen to everyone, to one degree or another.

Changing tack a bit (as I said, putting all my ideas together, now :P), the time they spent together led to them basically being each others' best friend in the glitched world (not shipping, FYI. I appreciate that's not allowed). This experience has changed them, the most explicit shift that Stress' sword skills come along in leaps and bounds under False's guidance. Even long after they reach spawn, if either needs someone to watch their back, they go to the other before anyone else.

Switching tracks again to the outside, as that's something else I still find interesting, I imagine the whole "people not noticing the Hermits are missing at first because they're as the name suggests" thing is exacerbated by this occurring between seasons of MCC (though probably not the current break). A lot of the community gets their news at events like this, so its only really the people who know the Hermits well who notice within a month or so. By the time MCC starts up again, the Legates and a few others are already convening with the Noxcrew to try and figure out a way to find out what's going on, but the first time the wider community catches wind of something being up aside from a Hermit non-attendance is when Noxite pulls Dream aside before the 2nd MCC of the new season - along with any other admins they can get a hold of - for help with a problem. The Dream SMP group are nervous when the green man comes back from that chat seeming rather worried.

Another point to the wider MC universe. If this glitched world issue becomes known, there might be concern that it could spread, depending on what the identified cause ends up being. There could be talks of containing it, only to realize too late that because it snatched inactive Hermits from other servers, whatever it is is mostly likely already out there in the wild.

Seeing a couple of the Sci-crafters end up on the gltiched server of their own will, and you wondered why they'd want the Infinity Portal to send them there, perhaps it was part of a group effort. The groups aware of the rough details of the situation made the journey to the Season 6 world and made a base camp there. Lots of different players pooling their skills and strengths, working together to try and use the Infinity Portal to rescue the Hermits. Mango and Methodz were just the two who volunteered to travel through the glitched world and let the Hermits know that there's a plan to free them. They know there's an almost certain chance they'll be trapped, but between saving their friends, potentially setting up a proper means of communication to the outside, and stopping whatever this is from spreading to other servers, its a sacrifice they're willing to make.

And that's about all the major ideas I have, I think. Wish I had more, and I did have the small thought of the glitched world phenomenon basically being almost like a natural disaster with no surefire way of stopping its effects - the best the Hermits and anyone else can do is damage control, and even that's difficult - but I hadn't given that massive amounts of thought.

In the meantime, i'd like to repeat that I really hope you open this AU again in future given the amount of potential it has, even if that reopening ends up being more of a continuation, with everything before set in stone. For now, though, i'd just like to let you know that i'm attempting to go through the master-posts and other content to put together a visual infographic meant to chart each Hermit's actions and journey through this AU. There's every chance I won't finish it, but given you said you'd still take art after the close time, i'm not going to rush it.

Regardless, this has been great. Thanks for putting this thing together. :D

#false #keralis #stress #zombiecleo #submission #scattered au #Hermitcraft #mod shade #i love all of these ideas so much #also #infographic????#!!!!!!!#it really does feel like it needs one doesn't it #some kind of colour coded diagram #that would be glorious my friend #good luck!!

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rosereview · 4 years

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Top 9 Favourite MaasVerse Couples

I did a favourites list of couples in the Shadowhunter universe last year that was really fun so I thought I would do one with all of the couples from Sarah J. Maas’ universe, especially after reading A Court of Silver Flames (review coming soon). Because of all that and given that Sarah J. Maas never fails to be sneaky with which guy the main character ends up with in the end, this favourites list will be full of spoilers. So like before, the top couples all are couples that for sure end up together, while the honorable mentions are couples that I like or ones that I think would be good together or who I want to be together.

Honorable Mentions

To start off we have character couples that I love but don’t know enough about to be super invested.

Amren & Varian- from ACOTAR. I just think that they are so cute and I love Amren and I’m so happy that she has someone who is there for her. I also think Varian is an interesting character who is the perfect balance for Amren’s intensity, also at all the family gatherings with Varian there, he just feels like the typical come-home-for-christmas-with-a-guy boyfriend who the family gets to know, but also plays around with because he’s new (don’t know if that makes sense, but if you’ve ever had a sibling or cousin bring a partner home for the holidays to a joking-around type family then you’ll get it).

Kallias & Viviane- from ACOTAR. Also don’t know a lot about them, but for the few interactions we see of them, I think they are super cute! The other courts always intrigued me, but especially the Winter Court because I love snow and I also love how close Kallias, Viviane, Rhysand, and Morrigan are (especially Viviane and Mor). I just think it’s so nice that they have other friends in other courts, and again they just seem sweet.

Juniper Andromeda & Fury Axtar- from Crescent City. We only find out that they are a couple near the end, but from the few times we see them together, I think Juniper and Fury are adorable. Fury is just that super badass bitch that I love to see vulnerable in a couple. I just like seeing that badass girls can still have a very raw and human side, especially when they are with their significant other. Also Juniper was always a favourite minor character throughout the book because she’s such a good friend to Bryce. I can’t wait to see more of them as a couple in the next books!

Next I have people who I want to end up together:

Ruhn Danaan & Hypaxia Enador- from Crescent City. I thought Ruhn and the mediwitch had a great amount of chemistry, and when it was revealed that she was actually the young Queen Hypoxia of the witches, I was so excited! I feel like her and Ruhn will end up together, and because I love Ruhn and just want to see him happy, I think that the two of them as a couple would be great!

Morrigan & Emerie- from ACOTAR (more specifically ACOSF). When Emerie saw Mor in the latest book, I giggled so hard! I think the two of them would be adorable and it’s high time that Mor got a new love interest who will make her happy. (I also really want Emerie to be happy now that I’ve gotten to know her more as a character, and I do think the two of them would work really well together!)

Elain & Lucien // Azriel & Gwyneth- from ACOTAR. This next one I won’t talk a lot about because I’m saving it for the review for ACOSF, but just so you know what side of the debate I’m on, I really do think Lucien and Elain would be good together if Elain gave him a chance, and now since reading the special edition short story about Azriel at the end of ACOSF, I ship Azriel and Gwyn together. (Although I’ll honestly be happy with whoever ends up together as long as all the characters are happy!)

Nyx & Unborn Child of Rowaelin- from ACOTAR and Throne of Glass. I saw this post one day of someone shipping Nyx (Rhys and Feyre’s son), and the unborn daughter of Rowan and Aelin, I fangirled so hard! No matter if Rowan and Aelin have a girl or boy first, I already ship them so hard with Nyx. We already know that Nyx would have been born during the time of the war at the end of Kingdom of Ash (because Aelin fell through the worlds and saw pregnant Feyre and Rhys standing during Winter Solstice) so if Aelin and Rowan had a child not long after, they would be close to the same age, and because of that moving between worlds moment, we know that’s it’s possible for the two kids to meet one day. (Also I have a theory that what happens in the Crescent City books will tie into the possibility of world jumping because it’s already talked about in there how most species in Crescent City came from different worlds, so yay!) I know that this is all just wishful thinking, but I think that would be the cutest thing Nyx being together with Rowaelin’s child! Let me believe what I want to.

9. Nesryn Faliq & Sartaq

This list was so hard to make and I’m sad that these two are so low on it, but I just couldn’t get them any higher! At any rate, I loved these two during Tower of Dawn and when they ended up together I was ecstatic! First of all, I think Sartaq would be an amazing Khagan of the Southern Continent and he’s honestly the only real good one of his siblings. Him and Nesryn leading the Southern Continent will be amazing and I love the way that they bonded over riding the ruks. I do wish that we got to see them even more, but considering all of the characters and storylines, I was still satisfied with the development of their relationship and themselves as characters (just want more content with anything from the Throne of Glass series because I know it’s over and that makes me sad!)

8. Dorian Havilliard & Manon Blackbeak

Next is another couple that I love so much but had to put lower on the list because there are just too many great couples in the Sarah J. Maas universe! I never thought that Dorian and Aelin (or Celaena at the time) would be good together, but was absolutely heartbroken when Sorsha died. BUT that death did lead to so much sexual tensions between Dorian and Manon that it was all worth it! I love these two because, again, it is so nice to see a badass female character also have a loving side, but also seems pretty “dominant” (for a lack of better word) in the relationship. I think Manon and Dorian are so great together, and their banter and cute nicknames (Princeling and Witchling) just gave me life! Even though the end of Kingdom of Ash left me completely shattered, I was very happy that Dorian and Manon still had each other, and I think the two of them will be great monarchs in their separate kingdoms, but also together.

7. Elide Lochan & Lorcan Salvaterre

Another amazing couple from the Throne of Glass series! Even though Lorcan was kind of an asshole when you first met him, when he and Elide had their whole adventure together, I fell in love with the two (especially Lorcan). I love a good “bad” boy “good” girl trope, and Lorcan and Elide were definitely that perfect fit. The way that Lorcan cared so much for Elide while they had to travel together was really cute, and I was so happy to see how Lorcan softened up and Elide became strong as well. It was nice that they still weren’t the typical weak girl, always rescued by the strong Fae. Lorcan and Elide made each other show the world their other sides as well.

6. Nesta Archeron & Cassian

This couple I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about but most of that will be in my ACOFS review coming soon, but for now I will just say that I LOVE them! We always knew that Nesta and Cassian were probably going to end up together, but still their journey as individuals and a couple was so fantastic to read. The way that the two of them helped each other out in terms of mental health while still being the individually strong characters was so good to see. Their sexual tension was great to read, and I loved the way that their whole story arc developed through the book.

5. Chaol Westfall & Yrene Towers

Again, I loved these two so much probably because they had their own book practically dedicated to them. I loved Chaol in the first two books from the Throne of Glass series, but like most people, I lost that love as the series went on. Going into Tower of Dawn I was really worried that I wasn’t going to like it because of Chaol being the central character, but like always, Sarah J. Maas writes such good redemption and flawed character arcs that it was impossible not to love Chaol again, and the woman who brought the light back to him. Similarly, I really liked Yrene when we first met her in The Assassin’s Blade stories (The Assassin and the Healer), and I was so happy that we got to learn more about her in the whole Tower of Dawn book. The way that Chaol and Yrene went from hating each other to falling in love was done absolutely perfectly, and by Kingdom of Ash when we found out that Yrene was pregnant, I almost threw my book in happiness, I was so excited. This couple is well deserving of the number five spot!

4. Aedion Ashryver & Lysandra

Now we have another favourite couple from the Throne of Glass series (that series is just so big and full of characters, most of the people on this list are from there). I really loved the idea of Aedion and Lysandra from the beginning when we start to see Lysandra play a bigger role in the series. Again, it’s the banter between these two characters that gets me every time, and the way they make fun of each other while also flirting is just so great to read. I was a little worried about what was going to happen to their relationship in Kingdom of Ash, especially since everything was going so well in Empire of Storms and then ended so badly at the end, but knowing that they got married almost immediately after the war was exactly what I needed. Also I LOVED Aedion with Evangeline and all their interactions, which was also why I knew that Aedion had to end up with Lysandra. Every time a kid comes into the picture I feel like I ship that couple just a bit harder. The three of them make the most perfect family.

3. Bryce Quinlan & Hunt Athalar

I know that technically we don’t know for sure if these two will be endgame, but if they aren’t I will sob and never forgive SJM! I love these two with all my heart and the only reason that they are in number three (and not higher!) is because we only have one book with them. I would not be surprised if they went up higher on my list after the next books come out. First of all, their sexual tension is fabulous. Second, I just adored how they both helped each other health through the book and how they went through so much together emotionally. I feel like that made the strongest foundation for a relationship, and if that foundation breaks, I think I might just dig myself a hole and stay there. While both are strong characters separately, they are just so much better together! Every scene of them was like magic, and they were the whole reason I could stop reading HOEAB. I need the next books so badly, just because I need to see them together more!

2. Aelin Ashryver Galathynius & Rowan Whitethorn

Finally at the top two, and this decision was probably the hardest one I’ve ever had to make. I love both Rowaelin and Feysand so much, this was impossible to decide, but it came down to the fact that out of every SJM book, A Court of Mist and Fury is my favourite. That book is a f*cking masterpiece and the reason for that is because of Feysand. So Rowaelin is second. Aelin and Rowan are amazing characters individually, but like the reason for all of these favourite couples, the journey that they go on together and help each other through, is what makes them so special and so strong as a couple. Rowan helped Aelin in a way that Chaol or Dorian never could, and Aelin in turn helped Rowan through centuries of pain just because they understood each other so well. The best and strongest part of all these couples is that they became friends first, before going into a romantic relationship (except for Nessian a couple others, but you know what I mean). Being able to create a strong bond before anything physical is so important with these characters, especially helping them get through so much trauma, and ultimately seeing that growth on the page connects you so much more with them as a couple. Seeing these characters go through so much together was really what made me love them to this degree (which is a high degree) which is also why I’m having a hard time believing that their stories are done. I will always need more Rowaelin content.

1. Feyre Archeron & Rhysand

And now we’re at the top. Like I just said, this was a hard decision, but it also feels so right. Feyre and Rhysand had an amazing development as a couple through the books, and A Court of Mist and Fury is definitely my favourite SJM book precisely because we see their relationship develop. I am beyond happy that we aren’t at the end of the ACOTAR world and we get to see more Feysand in the years and books to come, because I am not ready at all to say goodbye yet. Just thinking of Feyre and Rhys’ lives now (especially with Nyx) brings a smile to my face, and I think that it's amazing how an author and a book can do that. Both Feyre and Rhysand’s characters are so strong and their journeys were so heart wrenching to follow but so worth it at the same time. There is really nothing bad I can say about this couple, besides the fact that I want to thank Sarah J. Maas for writing such great characters, and I can’t wait to see more to come!

Thanks to anyone who read to the end. I know it was a long ramble again. Stay tuned for my ACOSF review coming soon as well.

Until next time!

~Rose Reviews

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hansolmates · 4 years

Text

jjk; angel’s trumpet [final]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption, in this chapter–dry humping but not really lololol w.c; 5.5k a/n; surprise! the finale is here. im a little emotional, i had so, so much fun writing this series. the most fun i’ve had writing in a long, long while. i really hope to all the new readers that you stick around for the other bts fics i have in mind. thank you for being so supportive and loving on this journey, and i hope you enjoy their ending! and pssssttt, the bonus chapter will come next friday, so look out for that! ty @btsghostiewritersnet for the Bingo Bash Challenge and encouraging me to finish my first bts series!

[08] [final] [bonus] -> masterpost

Your family took very good care of your apartment while you were away. The laundry is done, the tables are dusted, and your bed sheets are crisp and smell like lemon fabric softener.

Unfortunately, you can’t say the same thing about your fridge. You can’t recall the last time you’ve seen the back of your fridge, but now it’s completely cleared out save for three cans of soda.

At least there’s ramen you can boil.

Waiting for the water your fingers drum over your countertops, taking in your home. It’s been two months since you’ve set foot in your apartment. You used to hate living in this little box of an apartment, jealous that your other co-workers got to share with others and have grander living spaces. However today, you feel content basking in the intimacy of your home, thankful for the breathing room it provides.

Chilling with your candles on the counter, sits the bottle of angel wine you received that started it all. It looks innocent, sitting next to your Bath and Body Works candles like one of the team. In this scenario, the Angel surely trumpeted you.

The facility they sent you to was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing in disguise because you had time to think and get back on your feet with no repercussions of going “too slow” and the pressures of going back to work. A curse in its own merit because the doctors constantly poked and prodded at your brain, trying to help you process your supposed trauma and get you to remember.

And sure, being sent unwillingly to an alternate dimension as you were practically forced to live another life and fall in love with the boy you already love is definitely trauma in it’s own right. However you’d be crazy to tell them and you’re not trying to end up in the cuckoo house anytime soon.

So eventually you give them the boring, appropriate version. How you were flung meters away from the impact point, feeling like you were seconds away from being dead, every bone in your body protesting as you rolled off the road. Yadda yadda yadda, you said you remembered brief flashes of your hospital room during your coma, catching simple conversation exchanged between your visitors, but nothing concrete. When you woke up, you thought you were in a dream about being in a coma, and once you saw that you’ve actually been asleep for two months, caused a panic which led you to their facility. Everything but the crѐme of the story.

With this utterly basic and blase confession, the doctors deemed you ready to transition and re-acclimate into your normal routine.

“Ow, fuck,” you put too much water in your pot, and it’s now boiled over and some of the water has dripped on your hand. Immediately killing the heat, you decide that you’re not feeling ramen and you definitely deserve a treat meal before facing society head on.

Quickly putting on a large sweater and leggings, you make quick work to the 7-Eleven across the street of your apartment complex. This has to be a ten-minute trip, tops. You start to shove whatever looks edible into your basket, making sure to have an equal balance of sweet and salty foods.

A low whistle from behind causes you to bristle, and you turn around to shove your container of Kewpie mayonnaise into the offender’s chest.

“I promise, I don’t wolf-whistle just any pretty girl at 7-Eleven.”

Your weapon of choice drops into your basket, face softening at the man in front of you. “Hoseok?”

You almost double-take, thinking for just a half-second that you could be dreaming. It’s been so long, but seeing the pearly white grin on his face and the red cap on his head feels all too familiar, and you’re overwhelmed with emotion. Dropping your basket you throw your arms around him, laughing when he nearly stumbles and you two almost topple over the dried foods section.

Heat stains Hoseok’s cheeks, not used to being this close with you. “Didn’t think you had it in you to miss me,” he says lightly, only half-joking.

“Of course I missed you, Hobi,” you admonish, leaning back slightly to adjust the cap that turned wonky once you embraced him. “It’s been what, two months?”

“Almost five, actually,” you can feel him tense up as you try to adjust the bangs on his forehead. This must be really awkward for him, but you made a promise to someone to try to become better friends with him, so why not start now? “But I guess it doesn’t count for you if you were in a coma for two of them.”

“Right,”

Hoseok watches your eyes glaze over, deep in thought. In his haste he grabs your basket, gesturing for you to follow him to the register. You don’t even argue when he starts to pay for you, slipping the bottle of aspirin he wanted to pick up upon finding you in the same aisle.

“Hobi?” you ask, following him outside.

“Yeah?”

“We should hang out,” you say, ignoring the surprise on Hoseok’s features. He wasn’t expecting that, “My family pretty much rearranged my place while I was away, and put in a lot of home workout stuff,” he chuckles at the face you make, “but they left my old tennis racket. I know you used to play so I could use a partner.”

To your utter relief Hoseok nods brightly, “I’d like that.”

You grin, taking your leave as Hoseok follows your trail. You try to hide how giddy you are by hiding your head in your hood, smiling wide at the thought of spending more time with Hoseok. Both of you seem to be headed in the same direction, Hoseok making small talk about what’s going on in his life and what you’ve missed.

He stops in front of the apartment complex, gesturing to the studio he’s currently practicing in. “I should go call Jungkook for you,” he says, “he’s been worried sick about you.”

At the mention of Jungkook, you shove your hands in your burgundy pocket, wringing at the old fabric. “I’ll call him tomorrow,” you say, biting your lip, “I’m not quite ready yet.”

“Of course,” and it looks like he wants to ask more, but out of politeness he doesn’t. He’s always had a vague understanding of your relationship with Jungkook, but it isn’t his business. “But if he asks about you—which he does a lot and it’s super annoying—I’m not lying.”

“Wouldn’t expect you to,” you smile.

“That boy, he visited you every day he could. You know that?” Your heart softens at the confession, and you heat up. Hoseok reaches over to squeeze your shoulder, bending down to send you a smile equally as heartening. “So call him soon, okay?”

The both of you part ways feeling lighter and sweeter. The rest of your way back up to your apartment is peaceful, until you hear someone crying on your floor. Your heart aches seeing your old co-worker slumped up against your door. Her hair has grown in, surprisingly not styled and she looks like she’s just ran a marathon to beat you. When she sees you approach her, she gives you a wobbly pout.

“You bitch,” Sehlyung says with no bite to her tone. She’s teary, and has been sitting against your door because the lock has changed. You must’ve just missed each other, “why didn’t you tell me the second you arrived in the city?”

“I was just going to call you,” you bend down to reach her eyes, “how’d you know I was already here?”

“C-cousin texted me,” she holds up her phone, wiping her face with her sleeve, “she’s a surprisingly good texter for a five-year-old.”

You laugh, offering a hand to pull her up. “I’ve missed you,”

“Fuck, I’ve missed you too,” and she hugs you, squeezing your insides out with every fiber of your being. “I’m so so sorry, baby.”

“It’s not your fault—”

“I fucking know! I know it’s not my fault but just let me be sorry and hug you,” you relent after that, letting her cry on your shoulder as you fumble for the door so you can both catch up comfortably.

You set up the table for your feast, lining up everything from 7-Eleven onto the coffee table as Sehlyung busies herself by pouring you guys cups of tea. She eats quietly, to your surprise. You didn’t realize how much this accident would have affected her, especially being the last person you saw before you left. The two of you exchange simple, mindless talk, with Sehlyung complaining about how much harder work has gotten and how boring your life in the facility, to the point that you wanted to teach the patients English just for the fun of it.

Sehlyung still looks a little weary, as if expecting you to be upset and blame her like she wanted to. You don’t give her that, instead you reach over to pat the black roots of her hair. “Girl, how could you let it grow out like this?” you admonish, knowing how much she hated to see roots after the first two weeks.

“Was waiting for you,” she mumbled between bites of her onigiri, “you’re the only one that does my roots. Can’t have some salon jip me for hundreds of won just because you got into a coma.”

You laugh, patting your knees as you move to your bathroom. “Pretty sure your hair stuff is still here,” you chirp, “let me fix that for you while you’re here, yeah?”

After the day is spent and Sehlyung’s hair is freshly dyed, you two cap off the night with some popcorn and a subpar romance movie. The two of you aren’t really paying much attention to it, instead the focus is on the silent understanding the two of you have as you bask in each other's presence.

Sehlyung leans her head on her shoulder, smelling like fresh conditioner. “Y’know,” she says, “he blames himself too.”

“Jungkook?” you know exactly who she's referring to.

“Yeah, probably because of what he said that night,”

“You two are such softies,” you remark, pulling her closer, “all tough and strong on the outside so no one sees how weak you are to the people you love.”

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

Cleaning up your work locker is like unfolding a time capsule.

Thankfully, everything’s still there (aside from your Caprese sandwich Sehlyung so thankfully remembered to dispose of.) You take great care in putting all your things in your duffle bag, from your extra hoodie in case it gets cold to the soft covered textbooks that are worn from love and overuse.

You thumb your finger over the photograph of you and Jungkook, untacking it from the inside door. You don’t even remember when this was taken, a blurry polaroid of you on his back with sparklers in each hand. Both of you look hysterical, from the manic grin on Jungkook’s face to the slightly panicked face you sport because the sparklers are hovering dangerously close to your faces.

A little part of you feels bittersweet in closing this part of your life, but you have a feeling that this chapter ended long ago.

Making quick work to drop off your locker key among other workstuffs, you manage to catch a glimpse of some familiar faces working. The studio door is open, presumably to air out the seven sweaty bodies that have been working tirelessly. You pop your head open, nose crinkling at the smell.

You barely get a word in as passing staff come to greet you and marvel on your recovery. It’s a little overwhelming, but seeing the relief and relaxation on their faces as they take in your healed body like you’re Jesus reincarnate.

You also notice that Jungkook’s nowhere in sight.

Namjoon bumbles over to you, throwing himself on you like a bear swallowing you whole. “We missed you so much!”

“Ugh, sweaty!” you make a face when his muscle tee is practically transparent, “Joon, you’re like a sauna!”

He fakes a defeated sigh, making an exaggerated gesture of holding his shoulders in a tired shrug. “I get it, you don’t wanna hug me,” he declares, “after months and months, the only person you’re really looking for in this room is Jeon—” you squirm among the staff and the way they mull around the room, seemingly disinterested in your conversation.

But of course, you never know who could be listening in.

Namjoon cuts himself short and squeezes your shoulder, as if to say you know what I mean.

“You actually just missed him. He left his extra clothes at the dorm. If you leave now, you’ll be able to catch him,” Jimin offers. He’s slumped on the ground, regarding you with a secret smile.

“Yeah, and it’s okay if he’s five minutes late.” Hoseok pipes up, downing a water bottle.

“Or ten.”

“Or a day late,” Hoseok finally says, “a day is fine.”

You snort, looking between the three boys. “I wasn’t looking for him,” you scoff, but from the looks on their faces, they already knew. With an exasperated shout and a rushed goodbye, you dart out of the studio, acutely aware of the giggles that follow you out.

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

The floor of their apartment took up the entire complex and then some, so you had to get Namjoon’s code to reach that floor. A little part of you knew you also could’ve just texted Jungkook to wait for you, but you had an inkling you would chicken out the second your phone indicated he was typing. The animated (...) always gave you a little bit of anxiety.

But now you’re at their front door and you’re not so sure if you feel ready. You felt ready this morning, when you dressed “comfortably but cute” in an outfit appropriate for cleaning out your previous job’s locker and just so happening to stumble upon Jungkook. That didn’t happen, and now you no longer have the cushion of being at the company surrounded by people.

It would just be him and you, for as long as you two need.

You’re only allowed to dive headfirst into the situation, because suddenly Jungkook is barreling out the door, presumably rushing to get to practice. He’s also equal amounts of sweaty, but at least has a clean shirt on. The white cotton is haphazardly thrown on, the collar so wide that the gap seeps onto his tanned chest.

Said chest barrels into your face, and you go down hard.

He cries your name like a prayer, dropping whatever’s in his hands to kneel to your aid. He’s shaking, unable to register that you’re simultaneously here and not here because he just bulldozed the entirety of his weight into your unsuspecting body.

You’re dizzy, trying hard to focus on him through bleary eyes. Jungkook looks like he’s about to cry. His carmine eyes scan your body for damages, and his one hand cards roughly through his untrimmed hair. The slight curl from yesterday’s salon job has lessened, but still manages to bounce back despite his futile attempts to get his bangs out of the way.

“J-Jung—” dammit, why was it so hard to formulate two syllables? “Oreos.”

“Wha?”

“Your Oreos,” your eyes flicker to the quickly escaping tins that came from his arms, wheeling further and further down the hallway, “running away.”

He scoffs, but you can tell he’s trying not to laugh by the quirk of his lips, “They’re fine. They’re not going anywhere,” he steps back a bit, sitting on his heels to give you some breathing room, “you on the other hand, can’t go anywhere.”

You narrow your eyes, “I didn’t come here to just leave,” you say, “I came here to talk to you, until you so gracefully said hello to me with the entirety of your muscle mass.”

Jungkook deflates, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” so much for a graceful start, “let’s get inside.”

“I uh, I have practice,” but he scrambles to pick up the Oreos and the clothes he dropped, “so we can start talking for a bit and then… ?”

“Ah, Hoseok said you can come to practice tomorrow,” he lights up at the mention of his friend, “I mean, if you want. I don’t know how important this practice is but—”

“It’s not,” he blurts, then sees the shock on your face when he’s cut you off, “I mean, it’s important but not that important. I mean uh, in comparison to now, and your head… and the Oreos.”

“Right.”

Not trusting yourself to get up too fast, you decide to crawl around to gather up the tins of Oreos while Jungkook moves to pick up your bag. With three tins gathered in your arms, you take the proffered hand Jungkook offers you to hoist you up. Your head throbs a little, but you know Jungkook’s got you. You try not to think too hard about the hand in your grip as it switches to hover over your waist as he leads you inside.

The penthouse isn’t as different as you imagined it would be. Then again, you could imagine how little time they spend in here anyway. The granite and dark wood kitchen remains, and your hands hover over the cool material. You’ve always been jealous of their living space, and often grumble about how their kitchen and living room spans about three sizes of your apartment combined.

Jungkook’s nose pokes in your bag as he sets it down, “You picked up all your work stuff?”

“Yeah,”

He gives you a strained smile, “It’s definitely not going to be the same without you at work,” you can tell how equal parts truthful and embarrassed he is, given by the way he breaks eye contact with you. “I mean, we can put in a good word for you if you want to come back?” he offers, “I don’t know if there’s still a position available for teachers but,”

You shake your head, one hand gripping the counter. You want to tell him that it isn’t his job to find him, but your heart is feeling particularly achy looking at the way he does want to help. After all, you two were still very close before your coma and the weeks leading up to your fight, “I think I want to try new things,” you say, “but thanks anyway.”

“Oh-kay,” his eyes look towards where you two should get comfy. The living room is the most obvious option, but the thought of any of his members or staff coming in at any moment terrifies him, “let’s go to my room.”

Unfortunately the Golden Closet isn’t made for two. He blanches as you two appear at his front door, noting the odds and ends of speakers, mixers, cameras and microphones taking up space on the floor and his desk. God, you must think he really doesn’t have his shit together after all this time.

“So, you still sleep on electrical equipment?” you say wryly, climbing up to reach the bed. The only reason the bed is unoccupied is because it’s a half-bunk, high enough to avoid any of Jungkook’s things.

It takes a second for Jungkook to follow you up, and he almost loses his breath at the sight of you sitting cross-legged, waiting patiently for him to sit across from you. It’s like old times, where you’d sleep in his room and wait for him to get back so you can finish another episode of whatever show you two were catching up on. It’s been awhile since he’s slept in his own bed, so the sheets are fresh and it's easy for you to sit on a clean space.

“So,” Jungkook exhales, “what’s being in a coma like?”

He wants to slap himself. Repeatedly.

Your demeanor cracks, and maybe it wasn’t the wrong thing to say because up until now he never realized how much he missed your smile. “Waking up was the awful part, like the truck crashed into me in the middle of the room,” you reel it back when you see Jungkook’s face pinch, as if he thought back to his time watching over you in the hospital, helpless, “but uh, other than that, quite painless.”

“That’s a relief,” and you feel better seeing Jungkook’s shoulders slump in his t-shirt, looking relatively calmer than before. You tilt your head, wanting to gauge his expression by sneaking a glance under his chin, where he’s tucked in his facials. “I uh, about the last time we talked…” In other words, the last time we fought, but he’s still not looking at you, and it’s so unlike him. Jungkook doesn’t like beating around the bush, he’s a man who likes to cut to the chase and get straight to the poison of a conversation.

But it’s been a full thirty seconds and you decide that’s enough, as he’s starting to look like a tortured animal and you feel the need to put him out of his misery.

Placing a gentle hand on his knee you breathe, “It’s okay,” and his eyes flicker to yours, expectant. “I’m not going to push it, push us anymore. That wasn’t fair to you and I’m sorry. But we can still be friends and that’s more important to me.”

And suddenly Jungkook’s face shoots up and he’s panicked. He looks sweaty, scarlet, and on edge all over again, as if you asked him to jump off Mount Fuji without a spotter. “Wait, wait,” he splutters, nearly banging his head on his ceiling. Jungkook tugs your hand back, pulling you to him, “y-you don’t want to try anymore?”

You stare hard at the hand encasing yours, “Like I said, I want to start a new chapter in life.”

“But that’s not what I was getting at.”

You raise a brow, “So then what are you getting at?”

And he clams up again. If you two were in a bigger space, you could imagine yourself tapping your foot impatiently, to the point that it got annoying and Jungkook would snap at you and give you a proper explanation to his weird behavior.

Finally he exhales, “I dreamed about you.”

You narrow your eyes in confusion, “What kind of dreams?”

“Random ones,” he shakes his head, trying to recollect them. “They were of us, but not really us, y’know? It was like a different life, we did all the fun stuff we used to do,” he frowns, thinking he must sound really stupid that he’s betting everything on a couple of imaginations, “and some of it wasn’t. Like we’d be in the city taking pictures, or arguing in a library. But we were so happy,” he stops himself, because now he’s starting to feel silly, “and it made me think of what would happen if I met you under different circumstances, and even though it’s hard under our circumstances I want—a-are you crying?”

You start to whine, displeased with your emotions as you start to think about the past four months. Had Jungkook seen what you lived through? If so, how? Rubbing furiously at your eyes, you shake your head furiously, “Sorry, it’s just been awhile since I’ve cried it out,” you forge up, “pl-please continue.”

Jungkook moves sloth-slow, making sure his actions didn’t hurt you in any way. When he senses your consent, he pulls you over to his side of the bed, wrapping a tentative arm around your shoulder. Your scent engulfs his senses when you instinctively lay your head on his shoulder, your breath lingering between his neck.

“I really hated myself for a while,” he admits, “when I saw you in that hospital bed, I just couldn’t stop thinking about all the things I’ve wanted to experience with you and,” he’s starting to feel a glimmer of what you’re feeling, and he sniffs, resting his chin on your head, “if you’re going to start a new chapter in life, I want to be part of it too because I love you.”

Expecting your shock, he turns his head away for yours to whip up, face centimeters from yours. “Y-you love me?” you echo, mouth open and eyes wide.

He laughs at your expression, “I’m sure you knew that. We’ve been idiots for the better half of the year.”

“I know… but hearing it is different!” you’re caught up in the whirlwind, leaning forward to tug on his collar, “C-can I kiss you?” A little part of you is impatient, a bit too greedy for your usual demeanor but you’ve longed for him so.

Jungkook pouts, “You didn’t even say I love you back.”

“That’s a no?”

“I didn’t even brush my teeth…”

“Jungkook.”

He tries not to smile too hard at your eagerness. As much as he wants to kiss you, he needs to think better and continue on with his apology. It’s the least you deserve. “I’m sorry for not respecting your feelings that day,” he says, running his hands across your body. They stop at the curve of your waist, holding you down flush against him. You feel your body sing in response, but you tamp it down when he continues, “I shouldn’t have made the decision for you by rejecting you like that, it… it wasn’t fair to our feelings.”

“It wasn’t fair at all, and it hurt a lot.” you agree completely, and as much as it pained him to hear it, he needed to. Letting go of his collar, you sit back between his legs, “but I understand why.”

“And the next morning when I woke up, and everyone was crying I—” he’s choked up, tangling a hand through your hair to affirm that you’re really here, and really okay, “I know it’s not my fault, but I felt like I was in a movie. Like one of those crappy romances where one character gets into a really bad accident and the dumb boy finally realizes how much he loves her.”

He looks guilty, as if he wants to tack on how he feels like it is his fault. Jungkook bites his lip, fearful that you’ve realized he’s not good enough for you. No matter how many times he’s fabricated the scenario in his head, he only pictures the disappointment and pain in your features for falling for a guy like him.

But instead, you reach over with bright eyes leaning on your elbows to press a kiss to Jungkook’s mouth. It isn’t even a long kiss, but it feels nothing short of a cool wave washing him in relief. You pull away before he could deepen it, and you giggle when you see his mouth still puckered open like a fish. “You are a dumb boy,” you murmur, “but I still love you.”

You go soft in his grip when his eyes glow, sparkling carmine with nothing but sheer love and affection for you. The feeling comes unbridled, genuine and all-encompassing for the first time in a long time. He doesn’t know how much time he can cherish with you before he’s whisked away to his next activity, but he can surely make the best of what he has now.

It takes no effort for him to pull you in a sitting position, making it so your arms wrap around his trim waist. Snug together, he presses kisses to every part of your face, your nose, your cheeks, your forehead, your lips.

This feeling, this touch is long overdue for the both of you, but you’re languid in your attention, letting it wash over you like the sun on a warm day. You’ve missed him so much, you’ve missed this Jungkook. The man who has been with you through thick and thin for over a year, who’s struggled with the weight of the world and the audience of millions, is in love with you as much as you are him. Jungkook, who sings your worries away and makes you want to become a better person with each passing moment, is holding you like the most precious thing on the planet.

His kisses turn white hot, wetting your neck as he hoists you up to settle neatly on his thighs. A soft, high-pitched sigh escapes your lips when you feel something hard and thick press into your core.

A sense of urgency fills his radar at the press of your thighs locking tighter around his body. “Fuck, babe—” his hands grip the swell of your hips, bucking into you once, twice, so hard that the frame shakes. “You’re so, pretty I—” you moan into his neck, hands running every expanse of available skin, “I love you so, so much, pretty girl.”

You stop to clutch his face with both hands, enjoying the way your thumbs brush his pretty cheekbones and your palms fill with his soft, adorable cheeks. “I love you, too. Now, will you make love to me?”

“Fuck, yes,” and the fondness in your eyes immediately glaze over when he throws all his weight into you again, making you feel weak and wet with pleasure.

“Jungkook,” you drawl, “just like that, please I—AH!”

It isn’t a cry of pleasure. A little too into it, Jungkook thrusts particularly hard, enough for you to come down and the bedframe to soon follow. There’s a sickening crack in the metal, and the both of you immediately scramble as you feel your combined weight sinking into the corner of the bunk. Jungkook clutches your body in a vice, prepared to protect you in the event you two come crashing down. Now Jungkook remembers why he hasn’t been sleeping in his bed as of late.

It’s dead silent, apart from your labored breathing. When your eyes finally refocus, you notice that you two have dipped and you’re looking at Jungkook from a slight angle, your weight tipping. You two broke the frame.

“Kook,” you cry, digging your nails into his shoulder, “you need a new bed!”

He shakes his head, “Don’t think this bed was made for this kind of activity,” he peels the thin mattress, noting the way that two bolts in the paneling have come loose. One panel has already slipped, hanging at the edge and creating a large gap. He shakes his butt experimentally, noting the way the framework swerves with him. “That’s not good.”

“How could you have not noticed the loose bed frame!”

“It’s kind of hard to worry about your bed when you have a job that requires you being awake 25/8.”

“Well, how do we get down without bringing the whole frame down?”

“Uh, I’ll throw you down in that little space by the door. Make sure to tuck in your knees and make a ‘lil triangle with your hands in case—”

“What the fuck—you’re going to take a chance and throw the love of your life down the bunk?”

“Babeeee,” he whines, eyes zeroing in on his precious computer directly under the frame, “there’s expensive equipment down there!”

With a glare, you swivel your hips on his dick and he groans, unable to move. He barely gets a centimeter upwards before the frame moves and squeaks even lower. You don’t bat an eye when Jungkook panics for your safety over pleasure. Payback. “Call Seokjin,” you demand, pulling out your phone from your back pocket, “now.”

There’s something familiar in this kind of banter, and you want to akin this feeling to home. All your tears shed, your longings to go back to this world, all pinpoint to the home that is Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook mutters something under his breath about you being too bossy, punching the numbers in. As soon as Seokjin answers, you send him a sultry wink and move.

It… isn’t sexy. You’re giggling as Jungkook holds his breath, tells Seokjin on the line as tersely as possible that he needs to get here as soon as possible with some help and a new bed frame. Jungkook’s face is read, giving you warning looks as you bounce on him, the metal edging you on in a way that’s simultaneously unsafe and thrilling. When Jungkook hangs up, he sends you a look that says you’re gonna get it but instead presses a lingering kiss to your forehead. The chaste gesture makes you melt in his arms.

Silent, he pulls away and your thumb brushes his shiny lips, smiling at you as you wait it out.

As you lean your head in his shoulder and wait for help, you’re reminded of something. Not long ago, another Jungkook told you that he couldn’t wait to fall in love with you again, and now you’re echoing the same sentiment. You can’t wait to love him, too.

#jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #bts fic #goldenclosetnet #btsghostiebingo #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic

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