#these things love to get you attached so you can build fond memories and then rip it all from you

[raredrop]

the thing about leaving discord is that i have a sever that is about 7 years old with my close friends with a lot on it, an ongoing dm with my gf just as old and a private server i use to help keep track of things and other ease things :/

[sorcerous-caress]

could u possibly do how companions would treat tav's kid? like in a situation where a tav had a child/younger sibling or smth. fluffy fluff all around

You know how sometimes fate aligns so that your past deeds follow you into the future? This request gave me a flashback to my old writing blog.

Companions reacting to Tav's younger sibling/child

[ bg3, fluff, several characters ]

[ Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Karlach, Laezel, Shadowheart, Minthara ]

Astarion

What on earth is that little gremlin following you around? Just make sure that no one feeds it after midnight.

To say he's not a fan is a huge underestimation, he signed up for a camp full of hot available single adults and not a daycare. How are you expecting him to be his usual self when a pg13 warning keeps chasing you around.

Whatever, he will just ignore the goblin-like thing. He can do that, how hard can it be?

Well...actually now that some time has passed, he has to admit that the little menace is really funny at times. Especially that one time he stole Gale's books to build a book throne in the mud, Astarion swears he could still hear Gale's heart shattering into a million pieces, what a fond memory.

What? Pfff, no, he isn't getting attached. He just...well was doing some trick with a coin to make it disappear, and the kid happened to be nearby, Astarion definitely wasn't trying to impress them.

Now the thing about picking locks is that it's better to teach them young. Think of all the small places, nooks, and crannies they could fit into, bringing them some loot and actually be useful.

And since he's already bothering to do it, might as well teach them how to wield a bow. Properly wield a bow, not like how Wyll does it no, it requires elegance only an elf is capable of and Astarion is the most expert here to train them.

Did you see that? They're actually getting better. He genuinely is impressed, so much that he doesn't register the smile of pride adorning his face, the excitement in his voice as he boasts about the kid's accomplishment and how they're clearly superior than the other crotch goblins.

Gale

Ah, children, truly the future of mankind. Humanity's hope and the ones who will carry the torch after us.

He is almost giddy at the idea of having an impressionable youth to teach, to steer and to spoil rotten like he was spoiled.

Will show off magic tricks nonchalantly, he definitely has a hidden agenda in trying to make the kid a wizard. After all who is better than him, an arch wizard, to teach a new curious soul about all the wonders of the weave? No magic is too advanced, everything is possible with imagination.

If anything, kids have the best imagination, better than adults do. Which is the argument he uses when you ask him why your little one can shoot invisible fireballs now.

He would love to read to them, he has all kinds of stories about heros, past legends and fables that will guarantee them a safe and sound mind. A healthy mindest to nurture then into a good kind hearted adult.

Even when his books end up the subject of the kid's abuse kind of a lot- Gale is nothing but forgiving. Cut the kid some slack, if anything, Gale is happy they are safe and sound.

Would make special meals for the kid during dinner time a lot, bunny shaped carrot cuts or soup with a sparkly finish. He can even teach them some basic recipes, cooking is a very important life skill afterall.

Wyll

He is very experienced with kids. Feels a bit concerned for the fact they're at camp all alone and volunteers to stay behind and watch them. And no, unlike the previous two, he doesn't try to indoctrinate them into elf supremacy culture nor tactically manipulate them into being a wizard.

He just lets them be a kid, plays ball with them. Shows them how to play fetch with Scratch. Overall a very cool and laid back older brother.

He definitely takes great inspiration from his own dad and how he raised him, offers the same advice and wisdom his own father shared with him.

Shows the kid that life is so much more than it seems, nothing is truly evil and nothing is truly good. Both can be found in each other. He treats the kid with respect and doesn't pull the older than you card unless necessary.

He wants them to establish their own being, their own character and carve their own path in life.

Definitely does whatever he can to keep Mizora away from the child. That devil cannot be trusted, and even while he knows the kid is smart, he doesn't want to leave it up to fate whether Mizora tricks them into a pact or not.

Halsin

The kid adores him and all of his animal forms. Halsin indulges them a lot and changes into whatever wildshape they deem the coolest that day to play with them.

When he looks at them, he sees a seed for the future. It requires care and nurturing to grow properly, and he is willing to make this world a better place for them.

Shows them how important nature is, how we should take care of the world just like it takes care of us. How we should respect the plants and the animals, how every meal is a gift and should be treasured.

He has a very fatherly vibe to him. It comes naturally, and he doesn't even have to try. Whenever the kid feels overwhelmed or scared, it's Halsin they run up and hide behind.

Also, when they get in trouble too because they know Halsin will take their side.

And he knows the kid is using him sometimes, but he lets it slide. Takes the kid on walks a lot, helps them make friends with the nearby cat that sometimes frequents the camp.

There is a potted plant they're both growing, a small shared project between the two of them. Halsin adores the look of happiness the kid has whenever the plant sprouts a new leaf and grows taller.

They don't have to know that it was Halsin's powers keeping it alive throughout the frequent changing of their camp and consistent travelling.

Karlach

Little soldier is what she calls them.

Picks them up a lot after her engine gets fixed, let's them ride on her shoulder and hang on to her horns sometimes. Even indulges them and pretends she is a robot that they're controlling.

Sorry Astarion, she can't stop hugging you. She's a simple robot, and the overlord kid on her shoulders demanded it.

While Wyll is the cool yet dependable older sibling, Karlach is the even cooler one who's very chaotic and would help the kid in their pranks and cause trouble a lot.

Ah, what the hell kid, sure you can pick up her great flaming axe and swing it around. Actually she will use a nearby table as a shield and you should definitely try throwing it at her.

It's not that she means to be a bad influence, it's just that she is extremely indulgent. That it circles back to being a bad influence without meaning to.

They want to only eat sweets for dinner and all day? Hell yeah little soldier she wants the same. They want to do it for the rest of eternity and never eat vegetables again? Sign her the fuck up because she is ride or die.

Oh yeah, your kid/sibling can swear now, thanks to her, you're welcome.

Jaheira

Is the one feeding them the vegetables, after telling Karlach off and putting her in the timeout corner.

It's not enough that she has a gaggle of children back home, but you had to bring another one with you to the camp? Oh cub, you and your own little cub are going to be the death of her.

If Halsin thinks he can hide them behind his bear form he better think twice, Jaheira isn't below putting the both of them in line if she has to.

She demands respect, and the kid definitely ends up giving it to her, begrudgingly or not. They understand she is the true form of authority in this camp and that they better do what she says and finish their chores.

They definitely see her as a grandma. She is secretly touched if they call her that but acts unaffected. She just doesn't want to let the kid down. She has to be strict because medicine never tastes sweet.

They remind her of her own kids backhome sometimes, she does get homesick a lot more with them around.

Shadowheart

No, she isn't emo. No, she isn't goth either. What is this kid talking about? They better know that worship of lady Shar is very sacred and not a passing phase she will grow out of.

You know how kids are overly curious and always ask these intrusive questions? Shadowheart is a magnet for that.

They just go up to her ,unannounced, and tell her about the recent camp news. She sips on her wine and gives the kid a glass of grape juice while they gossip.

Yes, she is a half elf. No, she is still as capable as an elf.

Wait, what did Astarion say about her? Really? Well, kid, thanks for being a snitch now. If you'd excuse her, she has urgent business to take care of.

She sees them and wonder if this is how her childhood was supposed to be like, if this is what she was missing out on all her life. Sometimes she can't help the burning envy at the back of her throat as she watches them be showered with love and care for simply existing.

But she doesn't let the bitterness get to her, not with how the kid looks at her in awe and admiration. She vows to be at least a decent example and not disappoint them.

Laezel

If left unattended, she will start a boot camp. Come one kid, get down, and give her 40 push-ups now.

What? She is just looking out for them. How else are they supposed to join the battlefield if they have no upper body strength?

Yes, the battlefield, why do you ask? Of course, she wants them in the front lines eventually. War is the perfect environment to raise a child, to make them strong and fast. You were very smart for bringing them here with you, she has to admit.

Bah, she scoofs at Karlach and Astarion's ways. It is a danger hazard at best. The kid needs to start with training equipment and not actual weapons. Her companions' lack of braincells does surprise her sometimes.

Well...she also does mention the fact that for them to graduate, they have to actually murder someone from the camp. You know, like how she murdered half her classmates when she was still in training.

She actually...does a good job at training them safely, she evaluates their weakness and strengths and gives them advice based on it on how to improve. She looks out for their well-being and shows them the most efficient way to end a fight.

But she's only joking? Right? Right???

Uh....did anyone see Gale??

Minthara

To put it in the nicest way possible, they are terrfied of her.

She thinks it's good because any sane person should be afraid of her. Frankly, she'd be concerned for a possibility of brain damage if they weren't.

They avoid her, and she barely pats an eye over it.

Although she was always the first to act whenever they were in danger, completely beheading the enemy with her sword before they could touch a hair on the kid. Still she doesn't care for the fact the child is drenched in blood and just saw someone get murdered.

She thinks they should get over it. The sooner, the better. Life is full of murder and blood, you'd be only dooming them if you don't let them see things for how they really are.

Drow culture for raising their children is very brutal, most of them die young and even the ones who do make it alive, don't live as long as the surface elves do.

Each drow carries deep scars from childhood, both on body and mind. Minthara wasn't the exception.

She tolerates your young out of respect for you. She tolerates what she deems as disobedience and disrespect from them.

You're not sure if they'll ever stop fearing her, but you also know that you can trust her to be there for them. To not hesitate a second in saving their flesh no matter what the cost is.

[isa-ghost]

Perhaps some headcanons about qPhil and the hardcore deities?

YESSS

qPhil headcanons masterlist

Okay so like, with all of these keep in mind my current personal headcanon/theory is that qPhil is hcPhil with his memory lost/altered by The Federation prior to arriving on the island. However it is that they got him, they wiped/suppressed his memory of his past just like other islanders and clipped his wings.

So TECHNICALLY these are hcPhil headcanons but also qPhil.

He's ofc closest with Rose. Unless you count Kristin as a hc deity. Rose was extremely fond and pleased of the way Phil would come along and take it upon himself to restore or touch up the builds that document the history of the gods, purely for fun and curiosity's sake. His love for the beauty of it all attracted her.

He's next closest with Ocean Overlord, though you'd assume otherwise because OO almost never personally connects with Phil in any way. No spiritual or supernatural signs, no personal talks or showing himself. (It's because the fool is sleeping or off catering to his whims). But Phil fishes a lot, and speaking as someone who practices witchcraft, you don't need to formally work with or worship a god to please them with the things you do. Fishing would be considered a devotional act to OO from a Pagan pov, so the fact that Phil does it so often and also cleaned up some of Flowerfall for him and Rose means OO likes Phil a lot. He's "a funky lil bird dude."

Phil is next closest with Blaze. She's also very hands off but deliberately so compared to OO. However, she still has a deep respect for Phil despite her distance and he admires the shit out of her in return. He thinks she's an absolute badass. His skills and wit impress her and his frequent visits to her domain and his love for her servants He & She amuse her. She's never seen a human so set on visiting the Nether frequently, let alone her domain specifically. Also he won't hesitate to take down a Piglin, and that's always a plus to her. (His gold farm pleases her deeply).

And ofc, of the deities we know of, he's least close with Ender King. Phil isn't exactly sure what specific event kicked off the way things are now, but EK just generally isn't something you want to mess with no matter what. EK probably disliked Phil from the get-go because he has friendly relations with the other gods, who all contributed to his failure & death. On top of that, the cave he rots in under Endlantis is like one of those haunted places you just Do Not Ever Go because it's very likely you'll go home with something attached to you (and Phil did). EK picked up on Phil's penchant for stealing & collecting cool things and how strong he can be (he has to be, he's a survivalist!) & did exactly that. He's been cooking on the potential vessel stuff since the day he met Phil.

Rose is the one who's always left him a sign of some sort that would confirm his assumptions about the history of builds and their relation to the gods. She never left him direct communication like she does with the books on QI bc she never intended to get that direct, but it's much harder to leave him subtler hints in a totally different world so she speaks to him via books instead.

I've said this before somewhere but basically the reason Rose (& EK, but him for malicious reasons) reached out to Phil on QI was not only to warn him of & protect him from EK but also to try and trigger Phil's memories of his life in the world he's really from and break him free of The Federation's meddling with his memory. She's had little success so far, kinda timed things badly given that the Feds had JUST locked him in the Birdhouse and fucked with his sense of reality. And EK kinda made that worse.

Ender King chose to officially act on his desire to possess Phil outside of the hc world because a) the other gods can't protect him as easily on QI and b) Phil himself is also nerfed and therefore easier to fuck with (thanks Federation <3)

Even now that EK's attempts to possess him are done with (for now), Rose is continuing to protect Phil and his family. She intervened when the Purgatory workers attacked, she'll intervene on other threats. But she only can if he's not around others. She's trying to keep herself secret from anyone outside the Death Family. Though she wouldn't be object to Fit knowing since he knows about EK. And she likes Bagi too. It's just easier to not start making tons of exceptions. Though overall, Phil is the one who's more strict about keeping the deities secret. Rose is more lax about it but acknowledges it's easier this way.

Part of why EK is the lil asshole that he is is bc he Knows Phil and Rose want the gods kept secret so he went out of his way to be like HEEEEY THIS IDIOT BIRD HAS A SECRET OOOO and intentionally made it look like it was a dark secret at that. Sewing mistrust among Phil's allies further isolates him and makes him an even easier target. : )

Phil has a feeling Blaze wants nothing to do with QI (and he's right). Any contact from her will be done begrudgingly and probably not until the Nether is opened bc otherwise she has to not only realm hop but world hop and that is more trouble than it's worth in her eyes.

Phil's honestly surprised he hasn't heard anything from Ocean Overlord while on QI yet. Especially post-reset. He lives beachfront more or less, he fishes a fuckton as of late, he goes on boating adventures often. And QI's whole shtick is that it's a vacation island or whatever, which is like OO's entire vibe. Phil's a bit baffled.

Semi-related, Phil's insistent that OO isn't JUST a bit of a sleepy or lazy idiot. That's a fucking god. Who rules the ocean. The unforgiving motherfucking ocean. He truths OO as a crouching tiger hidden dragon in terms of power. He thinks it just takes A LOT to piss OO off. (*side-eyes Ruthlessness from EPIC the Musical and wrings my little gremlin hands maniacally*)

Phil isn't entirely sure of the inter-deity relationships/dynamics and leaves it at "it's none of his business." They can tell him or imply it on their own time, if ever. All he knows is that Rose/Blaze/OO strongly dislike EK and that's all that matters to him. Anything else is assumption on his part and he's just Not gonna do that.

If he didn't want to avoid being asked 9487385728 questions from his friends, he'd probably have lil altars of some sort for Rose, Blaze, OO, and Kristin to honor them. And they'd maybe have an easier time communicating with him through them.

He's been wondering if/when the other deities reach out to him on QI if they'll ever make lil domains or something the way Rose has made her Sanctuary

[godesssiri]

Thrifting for the ⋆⭒˚.⋆Experience ⋆⭒˚.⋆

Today I saw a reel on Instagram of things that the OP likes to thrift for the experience. I’ve done lists of Décor items I am constantly looking for in thrift stores and Thrift First things I will always try to thrift before I buy new, but that reel got me thinking about the things I buy from thrift stores because the experience of looking for and finding them is so much better than just buying new.

Décor. Yeah, you can go to any number of stores and buy brand new décor items at just about any price point. And I used to do that, but the décor items I bought new in the past have gradually been donated to make space for thrifted treasures. Because the things I bought new had no meaning to me. The vast majority were just pretty things that sat on a shelf and had no emotion attached to them, so it meant nothing to me when I got sick of them and got rid of them. But almost all of my thrifted décor (and as a Maximalist I have A LOT) has memories attached. I could tell you what thrift store I got almost every piece at, if I had a friend or family member with me I could tell you who was with me and their reaction to the thing I picked up. Some of those shopping trips have become family legend which gets told over and over and every time I look at the item involved I experience a fond memory of either finding the item or my loved one telling the story of me finding the item.  I remember the thrill of discovery, the triumph if it was a piece I’ve been looking out for, the excitement if it was something I’d never even imagined and now can’t imagine not owning. I’m constantly discovering things that I had no idea I needed in my life until the exact moment I laid eyes on them in a thrift store. I discover manufacturers and artists and art styles I would never have been exposed to otherwise and I have so much fun researching them and discovering more about them. When you buy new décor you rarely feel the need to research and discover who made it and when and why, but when you thrift something amazing it’s part of the fun to do a deep dive and discover something new.

The perfect piece to fit in a particular place or do a particular job. I looked for the right side table for next to my couch for over a year, I could have found one the exact size and shape I needed brand new, but I know I wouldn’t love it a fraction as much. I have so many pieces like that in my home and I just enjoy being able to use these perfect pieces. When you wait and watch and finally find something that just serves your purposes so so well, the whole hunt from beginning (deciding I need a thing to go here and do this) to end (positioning the thing and standing back to admire it) is an experience. You can get that experience buying new, but to me it always feels a bit like cheating – not to mention going the new route will cost a lot more, my solid oak side table was a whole 35 bucks and the fact I got such a high quality piece for so cheap is a part of the experience that still gives me a buzz every time I think of it.

Original art. I love thrift store art so much. Galleries feel inaccessible unless you’re above a certain income bracket. But anyone can have amazing original art if they’re willing to scour thrift stores and build up a collection of things that speak to them. The number of times I’ve stood in the art aisle in a thrift store and tried to talk myself out of buying a piece because I have so much art and I’m running out of walls. But I’ve never regretted a single piece of original art I’ve thrifted and I’ve never re-donated one. Because if I like it in the thrift store I looooove it my home. I can’t help but browse the art even though I know I’m running out of space because I never know when I’m going to come across something amazing that will be with me for the rest of my life.

Antiques. I love antiques so much. I love old things. They have a weight and gravitas. They feel like survivors, because so much of what humans create, we then destroy. Things that survive to become antique were treasured or lucky and I feel like if they survived because they were treasured by someone you can feel that, and if they survived because they were lucky then bring that luck into your home. Finding true antiques (things that are 100+ years old) in thrift stores requires patience and an eye and it’s always such a wonderful experience to stumble across something and know that it is old and precious, and it can be yours for thrift store prices.

Collections. I’m a collector, have been my whole life, I have so many different collections of things. I have a theory that if you have one of a thing then it’s just a thing you like, 2 is a coincidence, 3 or more is a collection. I often find myself going: Whoops I guess I collect that now. It’s such a thrill to spot something in a thrift store that fits one of my collections and to swoop on it. I even love to stand in a thrift store and hem and haw over a piece before ultimately deciding I don’t need to add it to my collection because it’s not the best example, or doesn’t quite fit, or I’ve got something too similar. That’s part of the experience. I have many vestigial collections, things I used to collect but I no longer get a thrill from so I’ve re-donated all but the pieces I couldn’t bear to part with. I love to imagine, when I send an old collection off to the thrift store, someone else discovering my treasures and adding them to their collection of that thing.

Really high-quality stuff that is very expensive new. Sometimes people buy something expensive as a gift and the recipient doesn’t want it and donates. Sometimes someone will drop a lot of money on something, then never actually use it and donate it. Sometimes someone will buy something expensive and they will use it for years, but because they’ve taken good care of it and it was such good quality to begin with, it will still have years and years of use in it when it gets donated. When you come across something in a thrift store that you know cost $$$ and you could never justify buying it new, then that my friends is an experience. Years later, every time I pull it out of the drawer, I still ride high on the thrill of my stupid expensive potato masher that was in its original packaging with its original $80 price tag. Who spends $80 on a damn potato masher? Sure as hell not me, but I own a $80 potato masher that I paid 3 bucks for.

[gorbalsvampire]

the world is a vampire (vtm city meta 1/?)

playing the world

So, you ended up as a Storyteller. Maybe you happen to own the rulebooks. Maybe you had the idea. Maybe nobody else in your group will put on their big gender pants and step up. The point is: you've got the 'sponserbilities. Now what?

The charm of being the Storyteller, for me, is getting to build wide rather than deep. Rather than inhabiting one character you get to occupy an entire world, moving it in response to the other players' actions but - and this is one of the big Storyteller Secrets - also in spite of them, and without anything to do with them.

In my experience a real good city and story are dynamic environments. SPCs want things that aren't necessarily anything to do with the PCs; they have Ambitions that they will advance whether the PCs are interfering or not, even whether the PCs are paying attention or not.

That's the secret to playing the world. What the players are interested in is the primary plot - there's no point in dragging them to Your Story - but you still get to do everything. Things can happen that the players only discover later, when their attention turns and they realise there was always something else going on.

choosing your location

There are two wolves inside me.

One abhors the very words "lore" and "canon" and has no interest in living any deeper in the shadows of the "IP holders" than necessary to play. One is obsessed with the World of Darkness and has years of fond memories attached to published material, and is also kinda lazy.

One of the wolves gets to pick my cities, but it's not always the same one. If it's the first wolf, I pick a city that doesn't have a By Night book and might only have one or two lines of attention paid to it. If it's the second, I pick a city that has a good By Night book, or a writeup in one of the gazetteer chapters/books. Glasgow was a first wolf pick; Prague was a second wolf pick.

why did I pick Glasgow?

I wanted to set a story in Scotland, for the Dunsirn connection, and I wasn't going to use Edinburgh because I didn't fancy tangling with The Gentleman's adopted OC. (I can be quite a brat about this, sometimes - it's why I've never run a game in Manchester despite knowing and loving the city.)

Vampire as a game turns on sectarian violence, the conflicts between conspiracies. Vampire as a mode exaggerates real history, setting up the Kindred as influential parasites and predators, moving it but being moved by it. Generally, when I pick a city off its own merits, it's because I've looked at it and gone "oh, that could be vampires."

Glasgow's history is, forgive me, full of lines drawn. Protestant and Catholic, Unionist and Independence, Rangers and Celtic. It's really easy to wire and crosswire vampires into those conflicts, and to set up tensions within a clan or sect's power bloc by having its members on different sides of them. Divided loyalties aplenty.

I also have a literary point of reference. I'm a big Iain Banks fan, have been since I read The Wasp Factory at school, and his novels Espedair Street and The Crow Road are mostly and partly set in Glasgow. That helps - if the city isn't somewhere I've ever been I like having a sense of it informed by fiction, a vibe that I can draw down and inflect with Vampire's core concerns.

why did I pick Prague?

Partly, I had Redemption on the brain. (I've always had Redemption on the brain, it's how I came in, it's my Bloodlines.) Statting Christof Romauld for a Reddit thread got me started on the rest of his coterie, then reading Transylvania By Night and seeing how it didn't align with the PC game kept me going. And... OK, I'm not going to lie, the anachronisms were getting to me.

Sometimes, the desire to reach in and do a different job to the authors - not an objectively better one, but one more aligned to my priorities, subjectively better, for me - is too strong. There's a lot of that at work here. The buildings that shouldn't exist yet, the Discipline choice that doesn't make sense in V5, the desire to see if I can make this work - that's it, really, that's why I pick cities with more published material. The urge toward transformative work expresses itself as it will.

other reasons

In the past I've often seen advice to the extent that you should pick a city you know well, maybe the city that YOU live in. I don't think you have to do this, but there's one way in which it undeniably helps: grounding, through little details, through street names and cultural cues that you just know in your bones and don't have to fake. That can be really helpful if you don't want the cognitive load of pretending you're multiple different people and having to sell the sense of a different culture and do that respectfully.

Also, we need to talk about history. Some places are better for vampires at this point or that in their real history - Glasgow of the twentieth century was definitely an easier place to tell a kind of grotty, gangland vampire story than the twenty-first. Since I wanted to use it for V5, and I was bridging through from Revised, I made that part of the story, part of the theme. The city was cleaning up its act, gentrifying even, and the controlling ancillae were being left behind.

I could very easily do a Nineties Camarilla game, or a Victorian Age thing, showing the city in its glory days (for a given value of glory), but if I wanted to do a Dark Ages game, it would be more of a frontier thing, with the PCs the only Cainites in town: the city is too small and too new for much else to work.

[all-things-skylanders]

Yahoo can i ask from some spitfire headcanons?? :D

Alright, I'm gonna be honest, this one was really hard. Superchargers is the only game I've never beaten because I dislike the gameplay with the vehicles so much that it ruins the whole experience for me. Because of this, I have very little attachment to the Superchargers, but nevertheless, I did what I could.

Updated Origin:

Spitfire was not always a high speed racing fire spirit. In fact, he was first born from lava as a minion of an ancient Fire Viper under the control of one of the most renowned Dark Portal Masters in history: Kaos's mother.

Spitfire was a mindless entity whose sole purpose was to kill anyone that tried to attack the Fire Viper, but when the SWAP Force repelled Kaos's Mom and her army of flaming serpents, many of their leftover minions gained sentience from the explosion of the Cloudbreaker Volcano filling them with elemental magic.

Spitfire was one of these Spirits, and as a being of pure fire, so long as he kept himself energized, he would be able to live forever. The thing about magical fire is that it isn't just flame, but the embodiement of all fire based energy. Fire energy is powered by feul, like gasoline and coal, but it also can be powered by feeling. Adrenaline, fury, power, passion, all of those RED emotions create the power of fire as well, and Spitfire knew this.

The spirit sought out ways to keep himself burning, and eventually decided upon racing. A sport so fast paced and energy filled that it all but guarenteed he would never go out. Originally, racing was a means to an ends, but he grew to love the sport, becoming a speed demon like no other, and being renowned as Skylands's greatest racer. While it sometimes went to his head, Spitfire never grew obnoxious, instead fostering his natural leadership skills to bring turbo racing into a new age.

When Kaos brought the Sky Eater to skylands, Spitfire was one of the first to jump into action, quickly earning his spot as the leader of the newest division of Skylanders by rescuing some of the most renowned veterans in the field and continuing to spearhead some of the most important missions in recent memory.

Other Stuff:

Spitfire is cis-male and straight (He's the mascot of the Vroom-Vroom gimmick, I can only see him as cis-straight, lol)

Spitfire holds ideals of liberation and personal freedoms more than most, as he used to be a mindless servant of evil. Because of this, he detests mind control and forced servitude.

Because of this, he has butted heads with characters like Double Trouble, Pop Fizz and Sonic Boom for using their minions so recklessly, but he understands the difference between what he went through and what his peers do, so things don't get physical.

Spitfire burns hotter and brighter when energized, and has only ever been seen nearly extinguished in near death moments.

Outside of other Superchargers, Spitfire gets along well with Sprocket, as they share their love for building wild technology, and she's stood in as his Pit Driver from time to time.

I dunno if I'm too fond of these ones, but I hope I did well enough! That's Spitfire for you! Feel free to give feedback, as long as it's polite! ^^

[qnewsau]

How many LGBTQIA+ people celebrate a chosen family Christmas

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/how-many-lgbtqia-people-celebrate-a-chosen-family-christmas/

How many LGBTQIA+ people celebrate a chosen family Christmas

This holiday season many LGBTQIA+ people will celebrate with their “chosen” family. 

For some of us, going home for Christmas is a tradition we may love or loathe in equal measure. 

It’s a wonderful time to see the family you love but it’s also the time you have to cope with others you’re not so fond of. 

You may have to share the special day with a cousin who shares his latest conspiracy theory or that aunt who drops casual racism into the conversation. 

For some, it’s often a more serious issue. 

We all know many in our LGBTQIA+ community aren’t accepted by their immediate family. And during the holidays there is a constant reminder in Hallmark movies, TV adverts and at your local supermarket that this is meant to be a time for “family”.

However, the wonderful thing about our community is that we have a long tradition of forming our chosen families. 

The friends who understand what it’s like to be LGBTQIA+ in the good times and the bad. 

Additionally, many LGBTQIA+ simply may not be able to afford to visit family in the current economic climate or maybe living in Australia from overseas. 

Thankfully, over the holiday period, many of the most organised in our community will bring their chosen families together to celebrate.

This may be Christmas Day itself, a celebration during the holiday season, or just a good old-fashioned excuse for a party without an early work start.

Ben’s Christmas

One such person is Ben Biltoft who is putting on a Christmas Day event for the first time.

“I won’t be able to spend Christmas with my parents this year due to plans changing, so I made the decision to host a chosen family Christmas so my loved ones and I won’t be alone on Christmas Day,” Ben told me.  

“I believe chosen family is important to us all, so we aren’t missing out on these occasions and the isolation we might feel. We are all family and family isn’t just by blood. We are all a community.”

Daniel’s Christmas

For Daniel Watson and his husband Wesley, they put on an event for the eighth year running. 

“We host a themed Christmas party in our home each year – we spend months choosing the theme, we have kitchen staff come in, style our apartment to match said theme and I spend far too long curating the playlist which is always a mix of festive bops and the biggest hits of the year that’s passed,” he says with much enthusiasm.

So, just a casual get-together then! 

It was held in the build-up to Christmas and they certainly don’t spare the effort.

However, even with the detailed planning and extravagance of it all, the heartfelt reason behind his event is very much there. 

“Christmas can be a really lonely time for a lot of people, particularly if you’re estranged from your actual family or you don’t attach positive memories to the holidays. I always feel so uplifted when I hear of LGBTQIA+ people finding a home with a chosen family that’s built on love, trust, support and fun – certainly not ideals that everyone gets to experience growing up, Daniel says. 

Our community is full of Bens and Daniels and so many people will be lucky to have these chosen family experiences. 

And as Daniel says, it’s a time built for a community. 

“Christmas is the gayest time of year, so it should be celebrated as such!”

If you are struggling over the holiday season, don’t be afraid to get help. Reach out to LGBTQIA+ support service QLife at qlife.org.au or 1800 184 527.

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

[honeymoonersonly]

Relevant Tips to Build a Healthy Relationship

 Having a cordial relationship tops the list in many people’s lives. We imagine a life that is mutually nurturing, encourage us to do better in life and allows us to stay in harmony with your life partner. An amicable relationship full of love and exhilaration bring together your dissimilar parts to form a divine flow of elevating and nurturing feelings. This strong bond and a positive connection feed your soul and willingness to adapt with your partner.

To enjoy lasting happiness few relationships advice for couples are as follows:

Spend quality time with each other

If you spend time listening to each other and continue looking at each other in an attentive manner, you can sustain your love endlessly. Recreate your fond memories when you were initially dating and you use to spend hours chatting with each other. Though demands of family and work changes but do not forget to spend quality time together. 

Let go the things you do not like

Healthy relationships are always built on compromises. A good relationship always requires positive force and has a significant emotional room in your heart. Harbouring old hatreds will not do any good. Forgive each other even it has caused pain in the past. Practice yoga and meditation, which can be the best - to get rid of past hatred. 

Communicate openly and honestly

Good communication is important for every healthy relationship. When there is a positive emotional connect with your partner, feeling of security is there. When there is a communication gap, stress occurs and the couple starts feeling that disconnect. Strong communication between couples can help them overcome difficult hurdles in life. 

Physical intimacy is important

Studies have revealed that touch is an essential part of any existence. Affectionate contact boosts up the oxytocin levels in the body, a hormone which creates attachment and bonding. Frequent, warm touch like hugging, holding hands is very important and brings warmth in a relationship.

Focus on enjoying different activities together

 If you want to create a relationship full of love and exhilaration, then you need to have a playful attitude, which can help you forget all the difficult challenges of life. Keeping your sense of humour high is vital as this helps in reducing stress and work through issues effortlessly. Surprise your partner in a playful way by bringing a bunch of roses, cooking something special for your loved one or playing with pets together to create a lively ambience. 

To wrap it up, we can say that do not hold any grudges with your partner and let the spark be present in your life. This will help to keep the things going in a very harmonious way for a divine life ahead. So, make sure that you follow the above mentioned tip and have the best relationship with your partner.

Syndication URL on Relevant Tips to Build a Healthy Relationship

[greetings-and-salutations]

“I’m Sentimental.”

Jonathan Byers x Reader

Day 5 of the Stranger Things Summer Write-a-Thon!!!

Masterlist

(Gif not mine)

Requested? No

Summary: When Joyce is getting rid of some of Jonathan’s old things, there’s some stuff (Y/n) just can’t bear to part with…

Warnings: starred out swear words, sexual implications, Jonathan being dumb

Pairing: Jonathan Byers x Fem!Reader (wears a smaller size of clothes than he does)

“Hey there, Ms. Byers!” (Y/n) called out with a wave, as she noticed her boyfriend’s mother struggling with an armful of boxes across the street. The girl jogged over to meet her, catching an old shoebox just as it tumbled from her grip.

“How many times have I told you, (Y/n): call me Joyce.” The woman greeted back, smiling gratefully, as (Y/n) delicately placed the box back on top of the bigger one already in her grasp.

“Sorry…” (Y/n) said, as Joyce went to pick up more stuff from her trunk. The younger girl’s eyebrows crinkled in concern. “That’s a lot of boxes. You need a hand?” She offered, wondering why neither Jonathan nor Will had thought to accompany their mother in this endeavor. That was too much for one person to carry all along. Joyce’s smile widened at her question, and she nodded, thankfully.

“That would be lovely, sweetheart.”

(Y/n) moved to take the rest of the of boxes from Joyce’s car, and the two began their trek down the sidewalk.

“So, where are we going with these?” (Y/n) asked after a moment, as they continued past the shop windows. Joyce nodded her head towards a building a little ways away.

“Just down the street right there.” (Y/n)’s eyes followed the direction and she squinted to read the sign above the door.

“Goodwill?” She asked, earning a nod of agreement.

“Yeah, Jonathan’s getting too tall. I can hardly keep up.” (Y/n) laughed at that. Boy, did she know it… “This is the stuff Will didn’t want.”

(Y/n) peeked in the box curiously and smiled fondly.

“I thought I recognized this shirt.” She noted, prompting Joyce to glance over herself, and smile softly.

“He loved that old thing.” She said, (Y/n) nodding in agreement. Boy, did she know that too. Jonathan wasn’t the greatest at dressing himself. If it was folded in the laundry basket by the door, it was clean. Why go through all the trouble of rooting through his closet or his dresser when there’s perfectly fine clothes right there. Why should it matter that he’d worn the same pants less than a week prior? Or the same top just about twenty times last month? Or this exact shirt for what felt like every day of freshman year.

“He really did…” As they got closer to their destination, (Y/n) got an idea. “Hey, Joyce?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” (Y/n)’s gaze remained trained on the worn old shirt as she answered.

“Do you think it’d be okay if I held onto some of this?” She asked, not wanting to say it out loud, but not overly fond of the idea of getting rid of some of the memories attached to Jonathan’s old clothes. What can she say? (Y/n) was a bit of a hoarder.

“Sure, honey, if you think you’d have use for it.” Joyce answered casually, as they finally reached the thrift store. (Y/n)’s smile widened at the woman’s approval, ideas for some of Jonathan’s more questionable clothing already spinning in her head.

“I’m sure I can come up with something…”

+ + +

There was an excited skip in her step, as (Y/n) piffled around the video store on her shift the next day. Jonathan had promised to stop by and visit later, and (Y/n) was anxiously awaiting his response to her chosen attire. Thankfully, her boss didn’t seem to care what she wore, as long as the standard blue vest remained on top, though (Y/n) had a sneaking suspicion that the lack of dress code was simply due to Keith hoping the girls who worked there would show up in something revealing. He was such a creep…

But, not even pervy Keith could ruin (Y/n)’s mood that day, as she slipped behind the counter happily, her new skirt, courtesy of Jonathan’s old brown plaid flannel and some scissors, fluttering a little as she did.

(Y/n) was honestly pretty proud of how it had turned out. Sure, she’d needed to call up Nancy to figure out how the whole sewing machine thing worked, and even with the other girl’s help it still lacked a real ‘professional’ touch. But, for the minimal amount of knowledge (Y/n) had going into this, her second-hand ‘Jonathan Skirt’ had turned out really cute.

“(Y/n)!” Speaking of…

“Jonathan!” She hopped over the counter and jumped into his arms excitedly, her skirt forgotten as her boyfriend wrapped his arms around her waist.

“You miss me that much?” He teased, as she pulled away. (Y/n) rolled her eyes playfully.

“You try spending four hours with only Keith’s weird a*s to keep you company.” She complained, making Jonathan laugh and Keith, who was in the back room, call out to the pair in annoyance.

“Hey, I heard that!” (Y/n) and Jonathan made faces at each other, before simultaneously yelling their reply.

“Eat your Cheetos, Keith!”

“Anyways,” (Y/n) turned back to her boyfriend, hands fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “We’re still on for tomorrow night, right?” He was quick to nod his head.

“Yup. My mom’s spending the night at Bob’s and Will’s gonna be at the Wheeler’s all weekend. We’ll have the whole place all to ourselves.” He grinned suggestively, causing the girl to smack his shoulder with a giggle.

“God, you’re disgusting.” But Jonathan was undeterred.

“You love it.” Before (Y/n) could reply, Keith’s voice sounded once again, obnoxiously, from the back room.

“(Y/n), you already took your break!” She sighed in annoyance, calling back that she would just be a second and pouting up at Jonathan.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She mumbled sadly, her boyfriend tugging her back into his arms for a tight hug, before nodding in agreement.

“Yeah… Hey, baby?” (Y/n) looked back up at his face, and noticed his eyes were now glued to her skirt. Her breath hitched. Here it comes…

“Is that a new skirt?” (Y/n) tried to hide her grin, as she looked down at the clothing item, her fingers messing with the slightly uneven hem.

“Yeah. You like?” She asked, wondering if he had caught on or not. Jonathan nodded his head quickly, a small smile on his face that she couldn’t read.

“It’s cute, yeah. Okay, well I’ll see you later, bye!” (Y/n) looked at him in shock, as he quickly pecked her cheek and headed out the door.

“Bye…” Seriously? D*mn.

(Y/n) was gonna have to kick this up a notch. She couldn’t quit now. There was a point to be proven. She wasn’t quite sure what that point was, but it was too late to turn back now. The gears were already turning for tomorrows outfit plans…

+ + +

“Oh, (Y/n), sweetheart, come on in.” Joyce greeted her son’s girlfriend, as she did the finishing touches on her outfit. (Y/n) took in the dress the woman had on for her date night with Bob with an impressed look.

“Wow, you clean up nice, Ms. B.” She said, honestly, the woman waving off her compliment, embarrassed.

“Well, thank you, sweetheart. But, remember, call me “Joyce.”” She said, before her eyes zoned in on (Y/n)’s own outfit. “And what about you? That shirt looks awfully familiar.” Joyce said knowingly. This time, it was (Y/n)’s turn to blush.

Of course Ms. Byers recognized her shirt.

It was half of two shirts she’d probably been washing for Jonathan for years now. (Y/n) honestly would’ve been more surprised if she hadn’t recognized the blue and green button ups sewn together at the middle that (Y/n) was currently wearing with her jeans and suspenders.

The girl held her finger to her lips with a smirk.

“Don’t tell.” She whispered, hoping Joyce would catch on to the little trick the younger girl was pulling on her son. Thankfully, it seemed she did, as Joyce chuckled a little to herself.

“You kids are something else…”

+ + +

Jonathan hadn’t recognized the shirt either, and, at this point, (Y/n) was starting to think that he didn’t even look at the clothes he threw on his body every morning, just generally hoping that they were both clean and at least kinda looked like they matched.

Because, even as a guy who didn’t care all that much about fashion, he should’ve realized what she was up to by now. Right?

“Baby!?”

“In here!” (Y/n) called back from the bathroom, having gone in there to get dressed for the day when she’d, inevitably, woken up before Jonathan.

“You almost done? I gotta pee!” He complained through the door, causing the girl to laugh, as she finished tucking her shirt into her jeans. Or, rather, his shirt. If this one didn’t work, nothing would…

“Just a sec!” She gave herself a final once over in the mirror before pushing open the bathroom door to find her boyfriend leaning against the wall across from it. He sighed in relief when he saw her, but stopped in his tracks when his gaze landed on the black graphic tee she was wearing. Maybe…?

“Is that…” (Y/n) nodded her head, trying to play it cool as she fiddled with the garment. He didn’t need to know that she’d been waiting for him to notice for the last three days.

“I really did try to crop it, but I just couldn’t.” She added, but Jonathan wasn’t listening, too wrapped up in his own thoughts.

“That’s my-” He began, (Y/n) interrupting him with another nod.

“Your mom was getting rid of it. But I’m sentimental.” She revealed, hoping her face was still red enough from the shower that he couldn’t tell she was blushing, as she watched him staring back at her in admiration.

“That was-“

“The shirt you were wearing the day we met.” She said back with a nod, a smile breaking out on his face in recollection.

“That’s adorable.”

“The shirt or me?” (Y/n) teased, Jonathan rolling his eyes in response.

“You, ya doof.” He said, before another thought crossed his mind. “Wait… your skirt the other day, and yesterday-“ Finally…

“I’m genuinely surprised it took you this long to catch on. You know if you would-“ (Y/n)’s incessant chattering was interrupted, as Jonathan threw himself forward, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist in a hug.

“That’s just about the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” He mumbled into her hair, making his girlfriend’s heart swell, but she was quick to cover in up with another witty retort.

“Well, who said I did it for you? I’ve been trying to steal your sh*t for years.” (Y/n) said, prompting a laugh from the boy as he pulled away. She smirked a little, leaning forward to whisper her next words in his ear. “And boxers? Genius.” Jonathan’s ears turned pink.

“…You’re wearing my boxers?” (Y/n) shrugged her shoulders, sporting her best poker face, as she internally high fived herself for coming up with this little idea.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Jonathan ran his hand through his hair, in a fashion that would rival Steve Harrington, as he groaned loudly.

“Sh*t, that’s hot…” He mumbled under his breath, though (Y/n) could hear him just fine. Before she could make another joke about it, however, Jonathan was throwing her over his shoulder, (Y/n) shrieking out a laugh as he did.

“What are you doing!?” She cried out between her giggles, as he tossed the girl back onto the unmade bed, quick to join her.

“Well, now I have see for myself…”

Tag lists are open!!!

Tags: @electriclcvewp @kaqua @yellenabelovaa @m-rae23 @peachycupotea

[10thstellium]

mas astro peepings !!!

whether it’s common knowledge or not taurus & sagittarius share similarities with their blunt tendencies and their mindsets. sagittarius seeks knowledge and borders on being a gregarious know-it-all so it’s not as off-putting as a virgo’s knowledgable flex. however, they live by a certain moral code and uphold those values and taurus being fixed can have a similar mindset. what they believe to be “the way” of things is the only proper way. both signs can bond over this trait and even more so when they have similar views. 

sagittarius & libra also share similar traits of avoidance. libra likes to maintain their idea of harmony and sagittarius isn’t fond of dealing with topics that they’ve made their mind up on but haven’t communicated yet, which will likely serve as a disruption of some sort of existing dynamic.

pisces placements have been told time and time again to firmly set a boundary, but they famously don’t like confrontation, so they should practice articulating what they won’t do/tolerate as a boundary. instead of approaching something as a request “don’t do xyz, i don’t like when you xyz” they should try “i won’t engage with xyz, i won’t remain where xyz” it transfers the power back to them instead of giving it to the person. they can benefit from empowering themselves, because often times they’re very good (much like libra) at dissecting a situation and then empathizing and understanding someone else’s view over their own. ultimately, becoming a disservice to themselves and building a resentment to whatever is the root of the problem. they’ll even convince themselves that they’re okay with it, they need to ask themselves what they value more: themselves or maintaining someone else’s harmony?

not sure if it’s been discussed before, but as many of us know each sign takes something from the sign before it, which is why pisces get teased for being “cr*zy” because they have a little bit of everyone and aries is called the baby since they’re the first. however, did you know that taurus’ fascination with food and heavy association with it most definitely comes from aries? think about how many amazing BAKERS specifically, you know what are most certainly aries suns if not aries in the big 3. the combination of foods and flavors made into one dish? heaven. the presentation is so marvelous too, but there’s no beating the taste.

cancers make ultimate hoarders, because it started with taurus’ inclination and value in the material/tangible possession, followed by gemini’s inquisitive nature and collector of knowledge, their possessions are both tangible and intangible, leading to cancer who adds an extreme level of sentimentality to the things they acquire especially if it’s been gifted to them. the memory is strong and it’s attached to the possession which serves as a vessel. the memory will surely exist regardless, but having it in their world and not just their emotional storage means so much more to them. 

speaking of gifts, leo turns the appreciation of receiving that they got from cancer, into the love of giving to others. they know how special they feel when they get something, they love recreating that feeling as an expression and testament of gratitude and love to whoever it is that’s earned such.

on the topic of leo placements , they most certainly need the love they show to FEEL appreciated and SHOWN a similar effort when it comes to reciprocation. leo really is a bottomless pit of love, but it will run dry if they quickly realize that it’s one sided or the person/people they’re showing it to are soaking it in and expecting it. ALSO is leo feels like you don’t appreciate what they’ve given, it stings, but they’ll study you better or flat out ask so they can show up better the next time. however, if they catch on that the person they’re giving to is ungrateful, expect a direct confrontation. depending on how much the leo loves/cares about the person they will endure, because they are hesitant to lose that person, not because they don’t have self-respect, but they absolutely love the person and have seen what they can be and instantly believe that person will achieve that maturation. leo placements are great hype people because of this and they believe by being a cheerleader and supportive it’s the equivalent to talking to plants to encourage their growth and bloom into who they were always meant to be. sound familiar?

VIRGOS!!!!! facilitate their own heartbreak, because they’ve really honed in on that potential radar that they earned from leo. however, they learned it’s not just about cheering and uplifting, it’s pushing and assisting. virgo is the coach and where they see someone having the room to grow they’ll certainly work diligently, in their way, to help that person. now, the catch, said person has to ASK for the help/WANT it. virgo placements do this willingly/unsolicited, but then after a few bad run ins, they become more selective about who they choose. nothing crushes them more than wasted potential in someone else, but when a virgo has given up on you... you’re on your own. sometimes though virgo has to be told to back off, because while they see the potential, virgo has a clear idea in their mind and that may not be how the other person sees themselves/wants to approach their maturation.

aqua venus can be delusional in their approach to love. I know a constant rep they get is “friends to lovers” it’s not all cookie cutter. aqua venus also is penned for non-traditional love dynamics. aquas omit facts/truth more than they get called out for. aqua venus likes to study and weigh out their options and they’re not above stealing a friend from a relationship. (not all placements are like this, do not take this as a generalization, but this is something not talked about as often). air placements in general value connections. so if an aqua venus has a brilliant mental connection with a friend and you add attraction to it? all bets are off, they will double down in a very casual way learning all about you in ways that they don’t already know. they’ll play the long game too, they’ll do everything but tell you that they’re into you. they’ll think their gestures speak to their attraction, which could be perceived as friendly, so that’s where an aqua venus can shoot themselves in the foot. there’s a part of them that fears rejection ... ha their sister sign is leo, i wonder why ... so they’ll do everything BUT establish their feelings first IF they suspect at any point rejection is afoot.

recently came across a post saying that fixed venus’ can handle the other modality venus’ best so (fixed x cardinal venus relationship / fixed x mutable venus relationship ) in comparison to ( cardinal x mutable venus relationship ) the fixed venus is steady/rooted in their ways which provides a sense of stability for the other venus modality. NOW the only caveat to that is, the other venus modalities better put their all in to making it abundantly clear they’re only interested in their fixed venus. fixed venus’ need that even if they won’t say it, at some point they will though, but if the other modality venus’ come across flighty or neglectful? pfft, buckle up buttercup. fixed venus doesn’t give their heart easily so they’re not going to just up and leave (unless uranus aspects are present) but best believe they’ll give you a cold lesson that their love and self worth is to not to be taken lightly. however if this behavior is repeated from both parties, one. that could veer quickly to toxicity unless discusses/addressed, but two, the fixed venus WILL LEAVE and it’ll kill them inside. if for any moment people see a fixed venus with a new partner quickly post break up, it’s not what you think it is, they certainly need time to grieve. (unless they emotionally checked out while in the relationship before the break up, but still they need the time.)

sag placements/cancer placements/aqua placements/libra placements/leo placements/pisces placements are prone to emotionally checking out from something that doesn’t serve them. it’s a stall period though, they’ll remain in whatever bond it is that they’re gradually detaching themselves from just to see if their will be a change/if this is something their trying to fight themselves from doing. these placements are all highly idealistic in their own way so when they suspect/are shown that something isn’t going the way they envision/has the ability to progress how they imagined due to a lack of maturity or they miscalculated whether or not said bond has the capability to be what they thought it was, they’ll wait. little things like that can cause these placements to question EVERYTHING but it won’t be known, because sometimes it’s just their process. libra/pisces/sag may quietly vet other people/look to other bonds during this phase. cancer/leo/aqua keep to themselves mostly they’re not as likely to create a queue, they have options, but they’re not in a rush to jump to the next.

risings above average height: scorpio/sag/leo/sometimes libra

lemme tell y’all something about libras, don’t think for a second they’re “dumb/air-headed” they’re far from it. aforementioned about collecting a trait from the sign prior, let’s stop and think why scorpios are the way they are outside of pluto’s influence? libra’s calculation + observation can be credited to virgo, yes, but they add a completely different component to studying. they’re so effortless at it, hence their notorious charm, they’re good at collecting information and moving accordingly. remember, they’re air, all mental stimulation babyyyyy. libra suns / moons / mercuries those are the ones who will KNOW MORE THAN YOU’LL EVER THINK. they’re very good at keeping it to themselves and don’t get cocky about it. *cough* *cough* scorpio ... we’ve all known a scorpio to flex about their knowledge/being right.

if you want honesty go to a scorpio, virgo, sagittarius, aries and cancer sun/moon/mercury. they will all tell you the same thing at the end of the day, with a different delivery. no implications, no excessive sugar coating, some may be a smidge more mindful of feelings than others but you will get the same answer.

if you want solid advice go to a virgo, libra, aquarius, cancer, capricorn sun/mercury they’ll remain the least impartial in their advice, very good at taking the facts/information about a situation and working from there. however, they’ll advise you only on what they know, better tell them everything or they’ll get it out of you because they’ll ask a million questions before giving you their answer. UNLESS they know the situation/witness is, they’re very good at remaining impartial there as well.

cap moons, i’m sorry and i know it doesn’t change the pain and the treatment you’ve received from someone who you’ve been told/made to believe is supposed to love you. i know it’s hard, because you grew up far too fast you have never gotten a moment to yourself, but don’t suspect everyone is against you, because the ones closest to you hurt you. don’t harden yourself past the point of no return. don’t treat the world or relationships as a scratch my back and i’ll scratch yours. people can like you for who you are, not for who you’ve convinced yourself you have to be.

pisces moons, don’t let your perception be blurred by the depths of your emotions and recreate memories to fit the narrative of how you feel. you’re not too emotional, though you’ve been made to feel like your are or on the brink of being abandoned by your caretaker. it was never you. love can be unconditional outside of your pets and animals.

aries placements/leo placements the only one challenging whether or not you’re the best is...yourself. you’ll never be satisfied if you don’t recognize your biggest competitor is your ego and you’ll lose if you give into it every time. you won’t like the collateral damage you caused either.

i see a lot of debate between “worst/scariest temper” i personally feel that’s going to have to be a natal placement combination versus just sun or mars. however!! i have my own two scents as well.

intimidating temper MARS: scorpio (they’re unrecognizable in a fit of rage, their face morphs literally), aries (mmm more concerned about the mess they’ll make, very physically expressive), taurus (we all know about the bull/slow to anger types), cancer (they need to apologize to their family/friends they see as such) libra (yes it’s detriment, but every victim of their anger can recant the exact word that broke them in the slew of things said. they don’t get physical or loud, just extremely concise, you are at the mercy of their scalpel and they’re the surgeon). 

shocking temper SUN: sagittarius (volcanic heads), cancer (you earned that, very amicable and forgiving), gemini (verbally and psychologically scarred for a long time), pisces (again, slow to anger/very forgiving) virgo (a mixture of forgiving but they vocalize their irritation enough so you possibly earned it)

devastating temper MERCURY: leo (the power and conviction, thick skin will crack), virgo (bravado and concise, they’re going off their checklist), libra (double take, “did they just say..” definitely not in your face but enough weight in their delivery to quiet a room), capricorn (saturn personified and articulated/ultimate paternal scolding pt.1), aries (the people you see crying because of something said? an aries merc did it), cancer (ultimate paternal scolding pt. 2/very cold, think “dark side of the moon”)

this got long, will work on a part 2 possibly.

[rocorambles]

Lost and Found

Pairing: Yuji x Reader

Summary: You’ve always wondered what happened to that pink haired boy who had become your closest friend in the very early years of your life and you finally get the answers you’ve been searching for.

A/N: This is for the Anilysium Server’s SFW collab. Masterlist can be found here!

The first thing you notice about Yuji is his pink hair. There are lots of kids your age playing in the park, laughing and talking to each other in the sandbox, on the swings, at the playground. But it’s that shocking head of pink that grabs your attention and with childish innocence and curiosity you make a beeline for the boy you don’t know, ignoring your mom’s warning to stop running. And it’s with embarrassment that your mom chases after you, profusely apologizing to Yuji’s grandfather when you grab a tuft of that soft pink hair in your little fist in awe.

But fortunately for the both of you, the older man just smiles and waves away your mom’s mortification and Yuji giggles, light brown eyes sparking as he grabs a strand of your hair in return, commenting on its color.

It might be the strangest greeting either adult has ever seen, but it seems to work as you both release each other’s hair and instinctively reach for each other’s hands as you race towards the sandbox, chattering about what the two of you can build together with the little plastic buckets and shovels sprawled about.

Yuji’s always been a social child, boys and girls naturally drawing towards his sunny disposition and outgoing nature. So it’s not shocking to see how quickly he’s befriended you. But what is interesting is how attached he is to you and his grandfather smiles in amusement when Yuji instantly searches for you first when he goes to the park each day, flat out ignoring the excited cries from his other friends to join them, either perking up or pouting depending on if you’re there or not. And to both his and your mother’s entertainment, you seem equally enamored. The two adults exchange knowing smiles when you practically drag your mom into a sprint upon seeing your new best friend.

Your parents take turns taking you to the park depending on their work schedules and on the weekends the three of you all go, enjoying a day off as a family. The Itadoris get to know both your parents well and the adults picnic and chat amicably and easily as Yuji and you romp and run around the park.

But it was only a matter of time before your curiosity got the better of you and for once Yuji is quiet when you ask him why it’s always his grandpa who brings him to the park.

“Where’s your mommy and daddy?”

There’s no malicious intent and you quirk your head in confusion when he doesn’t immediately answer what seems like an easy question to you.

“I don’t have a mommy and daddy.”

You’re not sure what to do or think of that reply, so you easily move on to your next question full speed ahead in a way only children can, leaving the weird feeling surrounding Yuji and you far behind. And this time it’s Yuji’s turn to cock his head in confusion with your next inquiry.

“Do you want to get married when you’re older?”

“Married? What’s that?”

“Married like my mommy and daddy! It’s when two people really like each other and want to spend the rest of their lives together.”

The concept of a mom and dad aren’t foreign to Yuji. He knows it’s normal, knows he’s the odd man out even at his young age with only a grandpa to take care of him. But he’s never dwelled too much on why he doesn’t have a pair of parents, fully satisfied and happy living with his grandpa.

But marriage...that’s a new concept he can’t quite understand, something he’s never seen firsthand or grown up with in the household. And he listens in awe as you ramble on with your explanation.

Is that why your parents always seem so happy together? Is that why grandpa sometimes seems so sad? Because he isn’t married? Yuji wants to be happy too!

“Let’s get married!”

You stare wide-eyed at the enthusiastic boy staring intently at you, surprised by the decisiveness in his tone.

“I really like you and I want to play together with you forever!”

Well when he puts it like that…

You grab his hands in yours and excitedly nod your head.

“I really like you too! Let’s tell my parents and your grandpa!”

Three sets of mouths gape at the two of you when you determinedly stand in front of where the adults are seated, hands entwined as you announce that the two of you are going to get married. And then there’s laughter and your parents and Yuji’s grandfather are cooing and shaking their heads in amusement at how adorable the two of you are.

“Marriage is for when you’re older, so Yuji and you have to wait a little longer until you get married, okay?”

“Okay!” you both scream before running off to play on the slide, promise already pushed to the back of your little heads as you shriek and giggle about who can get down the slide faster.

Life continues on and despite how months pass and then years, the two of you never tire of each other, only seeming to become closer and closer. So it makes it that much more jarring when Yuji suddenly disappears.

Your parents don’t know what to do, cursing themselves for not exchanging numbers with Yuji’s grandfather and their hearts break watching you patiently sit alone on a park bench, refusing to play with or meet anyone else, telling everyone you’re waiting for your best friend. They hope it’s just a one day thing, but one day becomes two, two becomes three, and when Yuji and his grandfather never appear for an entire month, you also stop going to the park, the location only causing you more distress than good.

Fortunately this happens not too long before you enter middle school and your parents sigh in relief when you become too busy acclimating to a new school environment and making new friends to continue crying over the sudden loss of your best friend. Sadness is more fleeting in your youth and they’re grateful for this, warmly welcoming the new friends you bring back home after school to study with.

You never forget Yuji. You don’t think you could ever completely forget the boy who had been your first ever close friend. But he begins to become a distant fond memory, a mystery you think you’ll never solve. You think of him from time to time, especially as you get older and gossip about cute boys in high school, giggling and asking each other how many kids you want when you’re older, who you’re going to marry.

A wistful smile spreads across your face and you remember how sure you had been as a child that Yuji was going to be your husband, confident promises from two children who didn’t know the first thing about marriage and love. You wonder what he looks like now. Is he as happy and easygoing as he used to be? Is he as loud and talkative? Does he have a girlfriend?

You get your answer sooner than you had expected and you freeze in the middle of the busy Tokyo streets when a familiar shock of pink hair enters your line of sight. The boy’s back is turned to you and you tell yourself you’re being overdramatic. It’s Tokyo. People dye their hair all types of colors now. So what if someone else has pink hair?

But your heart tells you differently. It’s been over a decade since you’ve seen that little boy, but you swear it’s the same exact shade of pink you remember grabbing in your tiny hands back then. And before rationality can catch up to your soul, your body is already moving, drawing closer and closer to that broad back.

“Yuji?”

The name comes out softer than you intended and you wonder if he heard you. But then he’s turning and your throat begins to choke as a pair of familiar light brown eyes lock with yours. There are millions of people in Tokyo, hundreds swarming around the two of you as they make their way to the next destination. But at this moment, it’s only the two of you and before you know it he’s rushing towards you and you gasp at the feeling of a calloused thumb gently brushing your face.

“Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. Oh my God, I can’t believe it’s really you.”

You don’t even realize the tears streaming down your face that Yuji is desperately trying to wipe away. Oh, that’s why he looks so blurry right now and you give him a happy watery smile before flinging your arms around him, soul at peace when you feel him return the embrace.

He’s so different from the young boy you knew. Taller, bigger, stronger. And yet, despite the many years that have passed, you can’t help but feel like not much has really changed at all. It feels completely natural for him to lace his fingers with yours like he used to and you let him lead you to a nearby cafe where he prattles on and on about what he’s been up to since you last saw him.

It feels surreal, like a rose tinted dream, and you tightly clutch at his hand even when you’re seated across from each other, afraid that if you let go, he’ll disappear and you’ll wake up all alone again. Turns out he’s just as talkative as he used to be and you find comfort in the familiarity of his tone despite the fact that his voice is a few decibels lower.

His grandfather suddenly got so sick that they needed to send him to a hospital and with no other adults to take care of Yuji, he couldn’t go to the park and tell you what had happened. You only cry harder when Yuji becomes teary eyed himself when he tells you how he went to the park almost everyday when he was old enough to go himself in middle school, hoping to find you so he could explain what had happened all those years ago. And Yuji joins your watery breakdown when you tell him how you waited a month for him (eternity for a young child), how you sat alone and never played with anyone else because you were always hoping that he’d show up again.

When your drinks and food arrive, you sniffle and laugh, drying your eyes, one hand each still firmy locked in each other’s grasp on the table.

“No more crying. We’re going to make up for lost time.”

Your parents are stunned when you bring Yuji back home with you that day and there’s more crying when they find out what had happened and of Yuji’s grandfather’s death. But they’re quick to welcome back the boy in their little family and Yuji becomes a common sight in your household and at your dining table, joining your families for meals and birthdays, studying with you, watching anime and playing video games late into the night, helping your mom with cooking and your dad with chores around the house. And the confirmation that he’s part of the family is only solidified when your parents tell you that all four of you will be going to visit Yuji’s grandfather’s grave together to pay your respects.

There’s not a single dry eye as you all picnic and sit in front of the tombstone and Yuji gratefully accepts the forehead kisses and hugs your parents shower him with, never once letting your hand go as you chat to Itadori-san’s spirit. You give your parents some alone time, letting them talk at length to the old man they had grown so close to while Yuji and you had played.

The two of you reminisce on those carefree days, teasing each other about who can build a bigger sandcastle now. You giggle and ask him if he remembers promising to marry you, joking about how silly and innocent the two of you were then. And you turn to Yuji, expecting to see him laughing with you, but there’s not a hint of humor on his face as he resolutely stares at you, light brown eyes concentrated as they gaze at you.

“I still want to marry you.”

You gape at him, waiting for him to break character, laugh and make fun of your dumbfounded expression. But it never comes and instead he tentatively grabs your hands, holding them in his, thumbs brushing soothingly over your trembling knuckles.

You’ve never seen Yuji nervous before. You don’t think you even thought it was possible for him to be afraid of anything. But standing in front of you, light brown eyes uncharacteristically flitting about as he tries to find adequate words, he looks so vulnerable, so sincere, so genuine. And you wait with bated breath, hope fluttering in your chest.

“I like you, like really like you. I know I said that when we were kids, but it’s still true, just like it was true back then. We lost a decade together and I know we’re still making up for that lost time, but I can’t help but feel like what we have hasn’t changed a bit. If anything I like you even more now…”

He trails off and your chest feels like it’s about to burst in fondness when you watch him trail off, uncertainty and embarrassment obvious in the way he shifts from foot to foot, a pink flush gracing his cheeks.

“I like you too, Yuji. Like...really like you.”

You giggle at the pout he gives you at the teasing tone of your voice as you use his words against him. But then it’s your turn to shift your weight from side to side as you also try to wrap your tongue around the feelings Yuji’s stirred inside of you since your reunion.

“I think I know exactly what you mean. We aren’t little kids who only run around and play in sandboxes and playgrounds anymore. There’s a giant gap between then and now that we’re trying to bridge. But I feel like reuniting at this age and seeing how well and easily we connect even now only makes me like you even more. It’s like our souls have grown together in a way despite the distance, like we were always destined to be joined at the hips.”

You stifle a chuckle at the way Yuji perks up, looking all the world like an eager puppy who’s spotted their precious owner, anxious energy surrounding him as he waits on your next words.

“So I guess what I’m saying is TBD on marriage, but if you’ll have me, I’d like to try dating.”

Your sentence isn’t even fully complete before you watch in mortification and giddiness at how quickly Yuji drops to one knee, the picture perfect of a man about to propose (if it weren’t for both your high school uniforms making it very obvious that this isn’t a typical marriage proposal).

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

There’s only one answer and you simply utter a “yes” that turns into a squeal as Yuji practically lunges at you, sweeping you in his arms and twirling you around.

[johnsamericano]

Ꭰąվ 𝟙⊘

➱ Ẃօղց Ƙմղհɑղց

A little someone keeps visiting his dreams, delivering pleasure beyond imagination. But what happens when the one he thought was a product of his imagination bumps into him on the busy streets of Seoul?

genre: angst, smut.

warnings: possessiveness, implied sex, provocative.

a/n: I didn't like this but hopefully you will 😭

��� taglist: @morningsunandnightsky @soberhani @aaasteroidsky @chenlewifey @piaozhisheng @doeilovr @aedreamzy

falling masterlist

~

~

“Fuck me harder.”

He woke up with those three words echoing in his head, pants stained with his release for what seemed like the millionth time in the week. Your face was stuck in his head, being the only thing he could think of all day long.

As he walked to practice, he wondered whether his dreams were a mere product of his imagination or something deeper, something...supernatural. He’d read about creatures of the night whose sole purpose was to seduce their target. But that would be impossible, right?

He felt as if madness had taken over his mind. He saw your face everywhere, be it in his building or at the convenience store. Slowly, uneasiness was starting to consume him.

The members had started to suspect. Hendery wasn't one to get distracted during dance practice. Xiaojun tried to approach him to no avail, his mind was drifting somewhere else.

Even though the night was chilly and everyone decided to ride with their manager, Hendery walked home.

On his way to the apartment complex, he bumped into a stranger.

“Sorry.” A familiar scent stroke him as the woman whom he'd just crashed with turned to face him.

“You!” He shouted, extending his arm to grab your hand. “You’re real.” You stared at him as if he were a mad man, trying to rid yourself of his hold.

“I think you're mistaking me for someone else.” As soon as you managed to get his hand off yours, you made a run to the opposite sidewalk.

Instant regret filled his guts. You probably just looked like that woman, and he scared you away. He shook his head, trying to eliminate any thoughts related to that mysterious woman. He was too busy trying to distract himself to notice the cocky grin on your face.

Late at night, while the members played in the living room, Hendery tried to conceal sleep. But as soon as his eyes started closing, the female figure made yet another appearance beneath his eyes.

“Were you looking for me, darling?” It was you. That woman in the street was most definitely the same one standing in the middle of his room. “You shouldn't. I wouldn't be able to visit you anymore.”

You crawled on his bed, laying on top of his chest like a kitten.

“You're real.” He touched your hair, silky as if it were made of the finest threads. “Why did you pretend not to know me?”

“I’ve grown quite fond of you, but this is all we can have. I'm not supposed to show myself to you in daylight, yet I can't help but follow you around. You're so fascinating.”

“What are you? Are you going to harm me?”

“Why would you think that? I would never hurt something so precious to me.” The possessiveness in your voice did nothing to slow down his nervous heartbeat. “I can leave if you want, but last night you said something I can't quite get off my mind...” He barely remembered anything, as if an opaque curtain was covering his memories. “You said you loved me.”

“I did?” It wouldn't be the first time. Deep words like that tended to escape his mouth during intimate moments. Yet, he couldn't deny the fact that he was growing more attached to the woman of his dreams, even if nighttime was the only time he could meet her.

“It’s the first time someone ever said they loved me. Maybe it's my greedy nature but I want to hear it again.”

“Look, I've read about creatures like you. You feed off my energy, don't you?” You hummed as if it weren't a big deal. “I don't like that.”

“I can't control it.” Your hands had already busied themselves with his pants, trying to get his mind off the problem. “But you like it when I visit you, right?”

Your touches were too overwhelming, setting a fire that prevented him from thinking too much. He was once again under your control, and you'd have to stop following him around for a while if you wanted to keep visiting him. Only for a few weeks, until his mind became too blurry to remember your face.

[prof-peach]

Out of all of the pokemon you have taken care of, which one do you think it was the hardest to deal with? Be cuz they were in a pretty bad shape, or just personality wise?

We get rumbunctious and rowdy Pokemon all the time, our works nature brings them to us probably more than any other issue, outside of grass Pokemon care and management. Anger and nervousness is something we have a good hold of here, and try to help iron out of various species. I do a lot of that work, and on occasion, Grey will do the odd water type with these problems, as I tend to shy away from those. For the most part, they are short stint stays, a couple months, to a couple years helping them to rewire their anger into a more productive feeling or energy. That being said, there’s alwasy the odd Pokemon who comes our way who’s just a step above the rest. So here’s some stories of the ones who have had to stay with us, for their temperament and behaviour.

On the north side of the island, we house the biggest, meanest Pokemon, and the individuals who are very timid and nervous around people. We do this to ensure they have space to live undisturbed in peace, but also to protect guests and visitors from being eaten, crushed, blasted, or otherwise harmed. Some of the northern residents are difficult yes, but most are just stroppy or uncomfortable with the majority of humans, but there are a handful that are actively engaged in harming or hunting people.

One such Pokemon is a rather nasty tempered Drampa, he came to us about five or so years ago now, kindly donated by being abandoned on our shores, it’s original trainer leaving the ball and hopping on a boat without alerting us, or letting the individual know. We figured it would be possible to rehome it, they’re usually a rather reasonable Pokemon to handle, considering their typing. We were wrong. This Pokemon when let out of the ball, went on a monsterous rampage for four days, destroying forests, toppling buildings, blasting holes in the mountain to try to burrow away, and picking fights with anything it’s size or bigger, often causing great harm to others. The island didn’t rest for that entire time, most Pokemon cowering from it, bigger species trying to halt them, all in vain. It took an entire troop of grass Pokemon using sleep powder to knock it out, the Drampa moved about so fast, one single grass type didn’t stand a chance to produce enough spores in time. It took a lot of work but we knocked the old boy out, and got a good look at him. His body was riddled with arthritis, not medicated, he would thrash about and cause himself so much pain and discomfort. He had overgrown nails, the feet hidden in the fur they have around their torso, often overlooked, and it’s ability to fly was limited because of its general condition and state. We began helping it, medicating it’s aislments, aiding it’s inflamed joints, but it never really calmed down, so now it chills out alone on the coast of the north side, left well alone, it doesn’t even like the company of other Pokemon.

We’ve done our best to interact with it, to socialise it, to generally get it use to people enough to do medical checks, but it’s still very resistant. We have decided that after two years of hard work, and it being tolerant to me, at least to check it’s health and wellbeing, that it’s best to let it live it’s life unbothered. Many would push a Pokemon to be a perfect social being, but we don’t believe it’s necessary for happiness. Some species are happy to be away from others, I wouldn’t push a human to be social, I know how awful that can be, so we didn’t force the individual to be around others either. It’s not that it’s unhappy, we spot it from time to time sitting on the rocks by the ocean, humming to itself, and the small pidgey and tailow that come by don’t bother it, and even give mild brief conversation. He seems ok, the medicine given means he’s in less pain, despite still having stiffness, and in the winter we’ve built him a unique space, rocky cover much like a cave, just above a Macargo hide where they lay eggs. The heat from those Pokemon keep its cave very hot, and help in the cold to ease the joint aches. The two species have different entrances, making sure they never meet within the hide at any point. There’s a good slab of rock dividing them, so it’s not an issue, and saves us having to pipe hot water over that far for him. He eats well, has a few items he’s kept from the labs, a toy sentret, and a large red ball, and generally is in a good place to live out his life in peace now.

Another difficult member would be a particularly timid Slazzle, gifted to us by a police member who had confiscated it from a rather mean individual close to her home town, they had been hurting the poor Pokemon, forcing it to produce an insane amount of poison liquid, throwing water on the poor thing every time it tried to ignite to retaliate, generally abusing the poor thing for its life, apparently it had been locked away since it was a young unevolved Pokemon. They’d been harvesting the poisons from the Slazzle and dropping it into various water sources to try to control the local Pokemon population, as they blamed the wild ones for the state of their land, and diminished crops yield from their allotment. Jokes on them, that water poisoning affected them too, and their garden died very quickly, and made the man quite sick through consumption of the crops he grew there. The slazzle is still very skittish, will hide at any given moment, we’ve seen her ignite an entire building in one move, and then bolt away through the flames to lose our line of sight. She managed to stay hidden for two weeks on the island, before we caught sight of her again. Generally she’s just a case fo neglect but we have been working with her now for a long while, 3 ish years, and her temperament is at least manageable amongst our staff. We have found her others of her kind to help her settle, and she’s become good friends with a Wartortle who came from the same area, they bond over memories of the place, and seem very happy in each others company.

We’ve found ways to keep her grounded, but she never goes near people when we have open days, slinks off through the big fence to the north side, and waits out the visiting hours until night. They’re not usually nocturnal but she likes the night, and spends her time looking about, foraging and feeding in the later hours. If you’re quiet you can catch her moving around the forests and the base of the mountains here, talking with the occasional individual, she seems to enjoy Murkrow too, their company seems to keep her quite social, as they usually move in large flocks here. She may never be rehomed, but for now we try to socialise her, we don’t battle her, and she has a very calm and peaceful nook to go to when she’s having a rough time. We make sure to provide support where possible, and though she’s a little skittish she’s somewhat happy to have myself and Grey, even Pari take a look at any wounds or scrapes she may gain while living here. She’s become trusting enough to come to us if we call, and who knows, maybe someone will come our way who she takes an interest in. There’s hope for her yet, we have however become quite fond of her, and she’s part of the furniture now. It may end up that she never leaves, and lives her life in peace here, surrounded by people and Pokemon who love her. Her panic makes her very difficult to pass to another trainer, and she’s prone to spitting up huge quantities of toxic liquid when spooked, and bolts at a slight bang or rumble.

One I have kept back for a number of reasons, is a rather mean tempered Aerodactyl. Normally we get Pokemon sent to us, but this one I ended up finding myself, some circus had her chained up in a box hardly big enough to turn around in, an attraction to the masses as they travelled through the area. The leader of that troop was particularly awful, treating Pokemon as commodities, items to be bought and sold, used as toys in his big performances. Boiled my blood. We called her Zeplin, and after 12 years she has still got a nasty temper on her, when not focused on a task. Her condition when we first found her was quite something, tattered wings, unable to fly straight at all, and she was littered with cuts and bruises, not in good health. Val has melted the chains that bound her, and the lock in her cage, and she just went, like a bat out of hell, flew off, blasting the tent that hid her quarters, burning a lot of the circus as she went. Little did I know, my foot was in one of the chain links, and I got dragged off with her, the ground, Val, all my other team mates, falling from my pocket, or being left on the floor where we had once been standing. She flew, and kept going, not aware I was still attached, you could see her wings were having a hard time catching the breeze, littered with holes and tears, she went for about two hours, I nearly froze that high up, trying to get a good grip on what chain was left so I didn’t come falling from that height. We came to a very sudden crash landing, she hadn’t had much chance to practice the whole take off - land thing from the feel of it, we both ate dirt, and she became very aware that I was there all of a sudden.

I had about three seconds while she assessed my presence, to get out of the chain, and dive behind a rock that gave me cover from an almighty blast of energy, chipping away bits, catching my arm a little. Trust me when I say, it’s terrifying coming face to face with something that stands a fair few meters taller than you, with more teeth and claws than you’re comfortable with dealing with, with none of your Pokemon, no weaponry, no real plan or cover other than a rock. How she didn’t eat me, I don’t know. Perhaps she knew it was me that let her go, maybe she just ran out of energy, but for whatever reason, she made a few bits and tail lashes at me, missed the lot, and gave up, turning to stomp off into the forests around us. She was still shackled with heavy irons, one on the neck, two on the legs, and was in serious condition, so I did the stupid thing and followed her, tried to sneak my way behind, though every now and then she would look towards me, and try to focus on my form in the dark of night now. It was a few days, she had stalked some prey, fed, and was starting to ooze from some wounds. Though the circus was unkind, they were providing her with medication that stopped further infections occurring, perhaps a scarred beast of great size drew more punters, maybe they were just making sure she survived to make them money, I still don’t know.

I hunted herbs, dug out roots with rocks, used river water, and common berries and managed to fashion some kind of salve, nothing amazing, especially back at that age, but it would work, I knew it would because I used it on my own wounds first. Just had to convince her it was a good thing to let me get close. Not an easy task. We physically brawled, she was clearly spent, not able to use any attacks, just thrashing about, I managed to trip her with the chains still attached to her legs, and once downed, you can jump on the head of these Pokemon to keep the jaws shut, just long enough to lather the wounds you can reach, then bolt fast. It was a small act, but she took off running again. With some wounds sort of cared for, I followed again, fishing for dinner, forraging roots to chew on. It wasn’t much but it kept me going, then one night, where I had climbed to a crook of a large tree, using my jacket to tie myself in for a nights sleep, I was awoken by loud rustling, thudding of feet, and a mighty huff.

Below where I sat, the Pokemon had returned, being no doubt well aware of my presence, following the smell of human, she had noticed the salve do a good job on the wounds I managed to reach, but the ones I couldn’t get near had become far worse, red, inflamed and weeping terribly, no doubt hurting and itching. I’d seen her rubbing her sides in the day, itching gasinst rocks and trees, smearing blood and ooze along her path as she trudged. So here we were, alone in the woods, I veeeeery carefully climbed down, staying in cover as much as possible, and over the space of an hour or two, she let me come out into the open, teeth bared yeah, but she hadn’t attacked, and other than a very uncomfortable, low growl, she allowed me to creep closer, some more of that salve made more for my own wounds than hers, being sniffed at, she licked it too, but wasn’t happy with the taste, very bitter, and I was cautiously optimistic, allowed to help her heal the rest of the cuts she had acquired from her old home. So we began our....I want to say friendship but that wasn’t it, it was a collaboration to survive.

We had landed somewhere far from others, I missed my team, and she had never experienced anything outside of the cage, and so we banded together, tentatively. We caught dinner as a team, and climbed for fruits, foraged for berries, reapplying what loose form of medicine I managed to make, before coming to some kind of comfortable companionship together. A week passed, wandering without a clue where we were, before a path was found, she seemed to want to avoid it, and while I wasn’t keen on people much either, it was impossible not to want to find my team again. They needed me, and I needed them. If they had been found, a police officer or the likes may have sent them to my original professor, waiting to be called from the PC system again, but knowing Val, she had grabbed the balls, my things, and bolted to hide, waiting for my return. In desperation I tried to explain this to the Aerodactyl, who had not experienced a trainers care before, and seemed reluctant to return.

It was only upon mentioning revenge, to burn the circus to the ground, that I regained her attention, and we came to a slow agreement to get aid, gather items, and return to where she had been released from. She waited in the forest while I went to town, checking my PC space to see if my team had been handed in, which they had! It was lucky, I was reunited with Val (vulpix), Booker (teddiursa), and Potato (bulbasaur) who I took back, and returned to the woods with.

We had to get some revenge, and in turn we devised a plan to free the Pokemon first, sneak in and pick the locks, melt the chains and gates, and then finally, let the aerodactyl do her thing once the vulnerable individuals were loose. I did my best to hold back my own personal rage, and simply aid the demise of a group who were awful towards Pokemon through this one big flying type. I wint go into details but no one perished in the fire, they were arrested and charged for unsafe work conditions, and abuse towards Pokemon, not to mention false advertising, having no worker’s Compensation in pace for injury, which many staff complained of, and several incidents of sexual harassment in the work place that were brought to light.

Once one started to talk, the others all joined in, and the fire was put down to unsafe working conditions and a lack of health and safety. From what I heard, the whole circus worth of Pokemon were rehomed, helped and generally lived much better lives after that. However now we had one very mistrusting angry Aerodactyl on our hands, a Pokemon I had not worked with before, who had seemingly become quite tolerant of me, but would snap at just about anyone who clocked eyes with her. So I kind of just kept her, no ball, not for a fair few years, we both didn’t think it was important. She was nursed back to health, and we had to go through a lot of training together, she bit booker once quite badly, but we’ve all put that in the past, and have worked on it together.

She is still testing, she won’t be ridden by anyone else, she doesn’t care for other Pokemon much, crowds will spook her, she doesn’t like when people talk with raised voices or hostile tones, and gets real irritable if you come at her in any kind of way that isn’t open handed, calm and slowly. She’s now a very capable flier, wings healed up, spending her first half of life locked up made her long for the open sky, so now we take time together to go off and ride winds when work is slow, and she’s helped in many ways to make the island functional, by moving logs, clearing paths, helping lift building materials around, and generally being there for me when I’m full of rage, which is actually annoyingly often. We’re anger buddies hah, kind of get on the same level with it. She’s become so much part of my family, and I feel like i’m part of hers now too, so I doubt she’d be rehomed, but should she find somewhere she would rather be, we wouldn’t stop her going. She is difficult, angry, snappy, tempermental, difficult, won’t be touched by strangers, likes to fight, but I’d not change her, she’s our testing monster, who we love and adore.

Went off a bit, but I figured why not, I know her, and can write more about her life and story than the others.

[yandere--stuck]

Yandere!Springtrap x Reader Headcanons

💛 You had always been interested in animatronics, ever since you were young. Ironically, it had started with your visits to Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria as a child. In spite of all the urban legends and rumors attached to the franchise, you only had fond memories of the place, especially the animatronics. You couldn't recall what your original favorite of the bunch were, but as you got older, your interest turned more toward the original animatronics from the older establishments. And that's why you had been so excited about the new Fazbear Frights attraction! If the forums were right, the people running it had actually gotten their hands on one of the originals! Either Fredbear or SpringBonnie for sure! You couldn't wait to see it…!

🐇 … But, then the attraction burned down before it had even opened. And now here you were, sneaking under police lines to see if there was still a chance you could see it, to capture at least one piece of your childhood again - hell, maybe you could even salvage some merch, or maybe even a part of the animatronic!... If it hadn't been completely lost in the fire. You skilled around the building, brushing against the charred remains of the building, suddenly regretting all of your life choices, when you spot it - nearly making you jump as you spotted a slumped over figure just out of periphery. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears as your vision adjusts. Your mouth drops open - you can't believe it. It's him! It's him!!! SpringBonnie! God, maybe even the original SpringBonnie! You immediately rush over to the animatronic, smile beaming, kneeling down to look over the bot. He's busted up, broken, burnt (and, God, it reeked, too), but was still somehow all in one piece, and in pretty good condition for something that survived a fire! Glancing to the side of the building, it looked as though there was once a window there - as though something had pushed the SpringBonnie out. Perhaps to save it? Recovering from the adrenaline pumping through you, you shrugged and began dragging the bot back to your car. You'd always wanted one of them, but never had enough money to buy one off one of those auction sites! And… You swear you hear breathing besides your own as you drag the poor bot, but try your best to write it off as your imagination.

💛 And you certainly had not expected to wake up face-to-face with a large rabbit animatronic that was practically falling apart at the scenes. Because it shouldn't be able to stand or walk or - or stare into you with big, sad eyes and croak out, "Help…" You screamed and shot out of bed, trying to press yourself against the wall opposite to it, too afraid to consider running for the door or taking your eyes off the machine. The SpringBonnie turned slowly, seemingly groaning in pain, reaching out for you, but didn't move from his spot. Slowly, he managed to calm you, promising he wouldn't hurt you, soothing you enough to hear his story. Apparently, he had been someone who had worked at one of the Fazbear Establishments. The poor dear had almost been killed - beaten and stabbed and forcibly stuffed into one of the SpringBonnie suits, with the springlocks having gone off, sealing him inside the suit. It was a miracle the poor thing was even alive. You immediately started to pull out your phone, but he stopped you - he had spent so long inside the suit that he had forgotten so much of who he was before, and a bit of his mind had picked up some of the AI within the robot. He was no longer the man he used to be, so there wasn't much any hospital or authorities could do for him.

🐇 Even as you tried to care for "Springtrap" (as he called himself), you still asked if he was sure he didn't want to see a hospital or somewhere that could help him, but he refused. Springtrap admitted, trembling (probably out of both pain and fear) that he'd be thought a monster, or killed, or even worse, his would-be killer would find out and return to finish the job. Of course, he was terrified - you would be, too, in his situation. So, you figured if he couldn't be convinced to go now, you could somehow manage to change his mind later. For now, you chose to focus on cleaning him up and making him comfortable. Apparently, he couldn't expose the suit to water, so you made the best of the limitations you had and made sure to be careful of the springlocks, cleaning him carefully (and trying not to gag as you saw the exposed muscle and flesh beneath). The final product was a big improvement, and it must have made Springtrap happy to be some semblance of clean. You helped him to the couch and made sure he was comfortable - and together, you talked for hours, about what had happened to Springtrap, who you were and what you had been doing upon finding him, everything Springtrap had missed over the years…

💛 You had originally considered eventually convincing Springtrap to go somewhere for professional help, but… God, he just got so scared whenever something like that came up in conversation… But, it was also out of selfishness. You couldn't help but kick yourself for it, but you had grown attached to Springtrap. You didn't want him to leave. It had been so lonely before you found him, but now you had someone who genuinely appreciated you and your company, who liked being around you, loved it actually, who you found you could talk to about anything. It made you feel so guilty, especially as you felt your feelings becoming more and more… Romantic. So you tried your best to make up for it, making him a special meal (turns out he somehow doesn't need to, or can't, eat), getting him the softest and fluffiest pillows to rest on, being there for him, practically coming at his beck and call, buying him painkillers so that he can feel something besides pain. You just felt like you needed to make it up somehow, even if Springtrap said you had done more than enough. 

🐇 One night, you had finally confessed to him. William - though, he had gotten used to being called "Springtrap", he loved the way it rolled off your tongue - had been laying against you, head resting against your stomach. Oh, poor darling, you had been so guilty and conflicted - and Springtrap relished in it, grinning darkly under his mask. And he confesses back, of course. How could he not fall for you? His little hero, his savior. So sweet, so kind, so trusting. So loving. He had learned to love from you… But, he was still William Afton. He could not share, and he loved being in control. He hadn't even felt this way with his own wife. You were special. You were his. All his! So, he lies. He says he was a poor victim of some serial killer (Ha! If you had any idea just how wrong that was…), matching up with the rumors surrounding Fazbear Entertainment. Saying that he had lost his memory had added additional pity, and part of him thought he had gone too far with the whole "part of me has become one with animatronic" thing, but you were just so adorably naive and ate it right up! It was truly precious. You were lucky you had found him, he'd take care of anyone who tried to manipulate you… Well, besides himself, of course. It was so easy to make you feel obligated to help him, to feel like you were inherently selfish… To make you love him, to love him like he loved you. And he does, and he told you as such. He struggled to pick himself up and press the snout of his mask against your lips, nuzzling against you. Oh, how he loved you so… Underneath his mask, William chuckles as he thinks to himself, That was easier than I thought it would be.

[commajade]

hii >_< this is a little random & u can totally ignore this if u want to but i remember u saying smthn abt how ur korean had improved a lot recently and i was wondering if u have any tips or resources for doing the same!! i can understand maybe half of the sentences i hear but my grammar is nonexistent and my vocabulary is v limited and most of my interpretation is extracted from a few key phrases that i know. i would love to be able to talk to, or even just understand, my korean-speaking relatives better & more fully but i never rly know how to start :((

hello! i was at a similar level but with like relative conversational fluency (i could not spell anything tho and knew 0 grammar rules) and i improved like a LOT and very quickly like in the last 3 years only because i went to korea on my own for a semester and then decided to devote all my hobby energy (i like to research and analyze things for fun :/) to learning korean and about korean pop culture history as soon as i moved back home when the pandemic started. i just threw myself into having really difficult conversations with a lot of people that don't speak any english and i turned korean music history/media into my primary hobby/for fun academic interest (it's a rly fun and fascinating topic actually there's too much info) and had to read a ton of random korean articles to get the information i wanted. recently i had a 5 hour conversation mostly about immigration experience and korean music with 2 girls that don't speak english that was a real learning experience. going to korea for a bit and having to navigate seoul by myself and constantly talk to people and taking an intro to korean writing class really set a good foundation for my self study when i came back to the US, to start watching korean variety and understand the cultural context and the way people talk. everything that happens to u in korea becomes attached to korean words in ur memory and builds stories to hold the weight of the language in instead of having to remember them mechanically, it stores experiences in words so they're alive to you and not just tied to your family and childhood but as a living very quickly changing language and culture.

-talk to me in korean and lingodeer are the resources i personally recommend from experience, and duolingo now has korean but it's not the best i was impatient with it. talk to me in korean is rly good for breaking down grammar rules and making them easy to understand it was helpful. also try to look up lessons on basic writing form like sentence tense for formal writing or memo writing or diary writing there was so much i didn't know and it was rly helpful. there's various korean textbooks floating around for free too i used to follow a couple korean langblrs here the pdfs are worth fishing around for.

-try to read korean contemporary poetry with english translations. i follow translators on twt and bought a couple poetry books and i like the zine chogwa a lot. also the popular style rn is conversational and about daily life or universal emotions. i like poetry cuz it's shorter and when u read it side by side with translations u realize a lot of differences between korean and english on the level of the word and how it affects grammatical structure.

-if u have people fluent in korean around u talking to them is the best advice. watching tv with my parents during pandemic and talking about it has contextualized so much of the korean language for for me. i'm genuinely interested in skorean celebrity culture because my parents are and like them i consider my faves people i'm fond of and rooting for and have been growing old with because i've seen them for so long and grown up as they have aged too. and all of that is tied into language i now hear all the time on tv and use with my family when talking about it.

-just fall into a rabbithole of funny or cute korean videos or vareity clips on youtube once in a while and sometimes without subtitles and let urself listen to a lot of people talk and don't worry about retention for a while.

-watch kdramas with family themes to learn how to talk about family things and in the right tone. learning how to communicate with ajummas and ahjussis is a separate skill. u gotta copy the nicest child's tone to see what's correct behavior.

lmk if u have any follow up questions i'm a very specific person and idk who u r so i hope any of this is helpful to u

[honsoolie]

don’t rush | 04

pairing: Yoongi/reader

genre: slight enemies to lovers, college au, fluff, smut, classical pianist!yoongi, violinist!reader, they’re both actually really into each other but won’t admit it

warnings: excessive amounts of pining, explicit smut, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, semi-public sex, mutual masturbation 

words: 10.3k

rating: +18

summary: You know, when Min Yoongi’s face isn’t screwed into an accusatory scowl, he looks exactly like the kind of guy you’d have no trouble falling in love with. Or, the conservatory au where Yoongi helps you get over your stage fright. In more ways than one.

a/n: thank you for waiting... if you've stuck around this long :") i've tried so hard for the past couple months to condense this story into the original length (3 chapters) but i've gotten attached and i'm afraid that this will turn into a longfic at the rate i'm going. so after this chapter, i'll be sure to post lots of drabbles of the scenes i couldn't fit in!! thank you so much for the wild ride, and without further ado, i present to you don't rush 04. 

start from the beginning?

You can’t bring yourself to fault Yoongi for what happened that morning. You also can’t bring yourself to say that it was your fault either–or even that there may be a single person to blame. 

24 hours of radio silence. No good morning text, no morning after–or really, afternoon after–text. Nothing. 

The thing about silence–absolute silence, with the exception the low hum of the air-con, or the distant sounds of a city, or footsteps from the room above you–is how slowly it passes. Maybe that’s why you’re a music student, spending all your time filling the silence with your own music. 

Silence is such an empty space–and can breed such bored thoughts. And where else for your mind to wander but Yoongi? 

It’s not that you were waiting for a text from him, it’s just that… you were half-expecting a text from him. Like he owed it to you. Even if none of this had ever happened, he would have texted you good morning by now. 

At least in your head, it seems fair that the onus is on Yoongi to text first. After all, he was the one who dragged you tightly by the wrist back to his apartment. He pushed you down on his couch, and in a very roundabout way, made you late for class. 

It’s not that you let this whole affair happen to you, but he started it. So it’s his job to text first. That’s the excuse you use, for not being brave enough to do it instead. 

It honestly feels a little pathetic that most of your thoughts outside of music and school are occupied by Min Yoongi. Even now, weeks after you’ve started talking to him, even mere thoughts of him elicit physical reactions from you. 

Your heart rate picking up, skin flushing where your neck meets your collarbone… maybe you’re allergic to Min Yoongi.  

It’s hard for your mind not to run wild with conclusions and assumptions after what happened between the two of you, even if a day hasn’t elapsed yet.  

Why hadn’t he texted? Does he do this often? Did he hate it? Did he ghost me, and now I’m never going to hear from him again? Should I text him first? Why is this so hard? 

Why do I care so much? 

The worst part is, you can’t turn it off. The thoughts follow you throughout the day, a weight sitting on your shoulders as you flit from class to class, building to building, rehearsal to rehearsal. Once the sun dips below the horizon, you’ve almost completed the process of resigning yourself to never knowing the answers to any of your questions. 

You make a note to yourself that you might start grieving the loss of any sort of closure–other than what Yoongi had given you the day before. All evenings this semester have been relegated to the confines of the practice room, so that’s where you head next after chamber music rehearsals end. Finally, the Bach partita has a purpose in your life other than plaguing your waking dreams–something to focus on other than Yoongi. But for God’s sake, it sounds pathetic when it’s put like that. 

Your. Life. Doesn’t. Revolve. Around. Min. Yoongi. You tell yourself, punctuating each word as you march down the stairwell in the music building. You clutch your violin case to your body, seeking warmth in the cold plastic. 

The universe likes to play tricks on people, and its language is irony. Yoongi taught you that lesson, the hard way. 

So it almost makes sense that the next time you encounter Yoongi is when you collide head-on with Yoongi’s smooth chest as you speed-walk through the doorway once you’re at the foot of the stairs. Just as you dreaded (and knew was going to happen anyway), your cheeks light up, some light from deep within you turning on. You kick yourself for the fact that your entire body perks up in his existence, erasing the cold and the tiredness from the night before. 

“Oh–I didn’t expect to see you here.” At the very least, Yoongi doesn’t look like he hates you. Or is disgusted by you. If anything, he looks a bit coy. If you could let yourself believe it, there might even be the warmth of fondness in his eyes, and even more incredulously, maybe the hard edge of guilt. 

“Didn’t expect? Yoongi, I’m here more than my own room.” You laugh despite the thoughts that have been trailing you all day, sounding something like cherry blossoms floating on the new breeze that spring has brought. You feel like you’ve forgiven him for something that he didn’t do, even if he hasn’t said anything yet. 

Just seeing him makes you feel better, the devil in the back of your head whispers. 

“Right, right.” His answering laughter is familiar. Even now, ever after everything, he still has the audacity to smooth his hands over your shoulders, make sure you’re intact and okay. “Violin okay? You okay?” 

You try not to let his scant touches send a shiver down your spine, just so you don’t give him that satisfaction, but you fail all the same. You manage a nod, but can barely bring yourself to look in his eyes. But is it for fear of seeing that warm tenderness again, or something else? 

“So…” With no prompting from you, Yoongi slides a fingertip underneath your chin. It feels simultaneously casual and momentous, and you’re not sure which one you prefer. 

Is this really happening right now? 

He looks deep into your eyes, taking inventory of something that you’re too self-conscious to think about right now. 

Of course, you’re self-conscious. You bump into your hookup a day after the fact, now that it’s nighttime in the practice rooms on the second floor of the music building. Both of you should be somewhere else, anywhere else, preferably drunk. How could it not be awkward, and how could you not feel self-conscious? 

His eyes flick lower, to your lips, and you avert your gaze. Yoongi’s hand returns to his side, and he coughs. 

“Sooo…” You say, digging your foot through the carpet, the warmth of his hands lingering on your skin. You play with the buckles on your violin case, just to give your hands something to do. You hope he says something first, because you’re sure as hell not going to do it. 

“Got something to say?” There’s a hint of a laugh in his words. He coughs again. 

“I thought you were going to say something,” You say, still not looking at him. It’s all you can do to not shrink away. In the dim lighting of the mouth of the hallway, there’s no way he can see your blush, but you turn away all the same. 

He’s smiling like he knows something you don’t, or maybe like he’s purged the last thirty-six hours from his memory. “Let’s not be strangers, come on. Are you busy?” 

“Not… particularly.” You commit to the words before you can finish the thought. 

“Can you do me a favor?” Right. So he wants something from you. Of course, of course he wants something from you. 

“What kind of favor?” 

“I was going to print something downstairs, but now that you’re here, can you listen to my piece? I need a second opinion.” He sighs, as if remembering something sweet. “It’s time I made it even, right? I’ve kept you waiting for long enough.” He smiles, just barely, and yet it feels like a gift. 

So that’s it. It’s confirmed. This is officially Not a Thing, you consign yourself to the fact. It’d be a lie to say that you aren’t a little bit relieved. At least you have an answer. 

There’s no need for a great step forward that’s necessary. No more awkward conversations like these, no admitting of feelings, let alone reciprocation of feelings. 

Nothing has to change between the two of you. Isn’t that what you wanted? 

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” You say, like it shouldn’t have been a question in the first place. You hate that even despite his silence on the matter, you’re running back to his side. You hate that you’re happy that he still wants anything to do with you. You ignore the empty kind of ache in your chest, too hollow and too full at the same time. 

You follow him down the narrow hallway, past the couch where it all began, and into the practice room. Of course, Yoongi’s already booked the only one isn’t a dingy cesspool. 

He pats the space next to him on the piano bench, beckoning you closer. 

“Sit down, don’t stand the whole time.” 

“Don’t you need the space?” 

“No, no, it’s okay. Come here.” If it’s even possible, your face burns even hotter when you sit down next to him, shoulders brushing just so. It’s harder to forget about the fact that you are hopelessly crushing on Min Yoongi when you’re literally touching him again. 

It reminds you of all his touches from before, because it was good. The sex was good. If it had been awkward and fumbling, if Min Yoongi hadn’t been able to push you over the edge with only his mouth and that look in his eye, you would be a lot more inclined to leave those memories in the past. 

You don’t need to relive the memory over and over, an endless reel. And yet, glimpses, flashes, disjointed stills of that morning still follow you everywhere. But you look at him now, silently flipping through the marked pages on his score, and now you see more than just a good lay. Looking at him now, in his natural state, you’ve fallen down the rabbit hole, you’re whipped, there’s no chance for you.  

“I don’t have it memorized yet, please don’t judge me.” You try not to think about the way he had pulled you closer by your hips. You try not to think about what you might have thought was lovesickness in his eyes. You try not to think of the timbre of his voice, when he told you to come for him. You try not to think about that. 

“Really, a pianist who can’t memorize his pieces? Sacreligious.” The delivery of your jibe falls flat. You steady the ricketing breath in your lungs. You’re nervous, and tired. Accepting that your Min Yoongi has absolutely no interest in you other than when he needs you for something isn’t easy, you know. 

“Oh come oooon y/n, this is something I’m learning this semester.” He pouts, just like he had before the both of you had fallen into this nebulous mess of feelings. Or maybe, it’s all one-sided and you’re the only one feeling like things have gotten messy. 

You poke him in the side, which you regret immediately after doing so. “I’m just joking. Show me your piece. Are you warmed up?” Yoongi turns pink, again. 

You remember the pink dusting his cheeks when he was–right, you’re supposed to be forgetting that ever happened. 

He runs his tongue along his lower lip, everything moving in slow motion. Your head is swimming. 

Well, maybe things aren’t moving in slow motion, and it’s the proximity to Min Yoongi that’s making time distort. “Yes, yes, yes, I’m fine. Are you ready to listen?” 

“Yeah. Go ahead.” 

Yoongi hovers his hands over the keys. He does that pianist thing you’ve always loved, where he pauses before the keys, preparing to play. 

He leans in slowly, sinking his hands down, pulling out a sound so sweet and, so, so solemn. This is a different Yoongi than the one thirty seconds ago. 

You realize somewhat belatedly that the fluorescent lights, the same ones that erase any sort of proper time telling in windowless rooms like these, still make Yoongi look good. The light bounces off of him just right, his cheekbones casting a gentle shadow on the sloped panes of his face. Like the rest of him, there’s no harsh angles, just soft gentle slopes that feel like home. Like comfort. Your gut twists in yearning. The hollow of his cheekbone is the perfect place to kiss, you ponder. 

Things should be easier now. All of it was a mistake. It’s in the past. It seems that Yoongi doesn’t seem to care at all. It should be forgotten about. Things, in theory, should be easier now. You should be able to carry on as you’ve always been able to. The path of least resistance, right?

He pauses, and begins what must be the main theme, cascading sixteenth-notes that sound about as tumultuous and troubled as you feel. 

He looks like he’s about to cry. Sure, you’ve seen sleepy Yoongi, cranky Yoongi, even a little bit of earnest, pleading Yoongi. But whoever is in front of you is entirely different. He’s approaching the main theme again, hands jumping over the keys as if they were hot irons. You can see all the versions of him laid out before you. Younger Yoongi, hands too small to reach the tenths written in his score. Hungover Yoongi that shuffles into class a couple minutes late, remnants of a late night out drinking written all over his face. The Yoongi that holds your hands between his and tells you that everything is going to be okay. 

When he reaches the final cadence, he doesn’t look at you immediately, still trained on the keys. His hands are still placed in the final chord, lifting them off slowly so the sound doesn’t quite fade away yet. The both of you stay like that, in the aftermath of what he just played. You hear the click as he takes his foot off the pedal. The tension that he was churning out doesn’t fade away when the sound stops. If anything, it gets worse. Blood rushes to your cheeks, the room warmer than it was before. 

“So… that’s what I’ve been working on so far. I, uh, hope you liked it.” It’s shocking how that compelling spirit from just minutes ago dissipates into thin air. He looks vulnerable, naked despite the fact that he’s fully clothed. 

“You’ve been holding out on me, Min Yoongi.” You laugh in disbelief, blinking away tears. God, you are so fucked. Sure, you’ve heard him play before, practicing with him. But you’re not practicing with him now, you’re watching. You’ve become the audience, and the dynamic has changed once again. 

There’s been many a night where you googled his previous performances and competitions on Youtube, but this doesn’t compare. Not in the slightest. So this is what all your teachers were talking about when they were lecturing you about the importance of stage presence. 

“Uh, wow. Wow.” You’re still tearing up, no matter how much you try to will it away. 

You’re not even really sure why you’re tearing up or why you can’t stop. It’s usually difficult for music to elicit such a visceral reaction from you. Goosebumps, sure. That very specific thrill down your spine when you hear music that isn’t so much as something that you hear, but feel in your blood, thumping, alive, real. 

But tears, no. That doesn’t happen.

It feels like your body is reacting to something that isn’t tangible, that you can’t see with your eyes or hear with your ears. Like there’s something else in the room that you can’t quite register. Like you’re crying despite yourself. 

You desperately want to kiss him. You want to pull him close and breathe in his familar scent and feel him pull you closer. It feels like the only appropriate thing to do, rather than just say “wow” over and over, in that stupid longing voice because you don’t what else to say. This is too overwhelming. More overwhelming than what it feels like when he finally puts his hands on you. 

It’s the only thing you want to do. You can’t imagine the night ending in any other way. It seems like it was prewritten in the stars, like the universe came together to stitch this scene together. Like it was fate for you to find him here, long after the sun disappeared over the horizon, practicing just like you were.

But you can’t, so you hug him. Like an absolute idiot. 

You regret it as soon as your arms circle around his shoulders. Yoongi stiffens, as if startled, as if he wasn’t expecting the hug either. Then his hand come to awkwardly pat the space between your shoulder blades, as if this couldn’t get any worse. This feels like a consolation prize. 

He can’t see your face nestled against his shoulder, but you cringe. 

You feel the vibration of his laughter against you, his shoulders shaking, “You liked it that much?” You can feel the way his voice resonates in his chest, and like everything else about this ordeal, it’s overwhelming. 

“Yeah,” You pull back away from him, relieved that the moment is over, “Yeah, I liked it. Winter Wind, right?” 

“Yeah, fitting for this fucking weather.” 

You laugh. “Look, thanks. But I gotta go, it’s getting late and I have a paper due tonight. Thank you, again. It’s really good.” You pick up your case, “You have good start, but keep practicing. Can’t stop until you have it memorized, ha.” You try to force a laugh. 

You hope you don’t look like you’re fleeing the scene. (Except you are. You leave the building without even practicing. But you don’t tell him that.) 

As you stream down the steps leading to the music building, the cool night air blotting away the swelling tears in your eyes, there’s something else that takes up residence in your heart: jealousy, and initiative. 

You envy the lucky bitch that ends up with Min Yoongi. And if Yoongi won’t talk about it, then you will. You won’t let him drag you around on a whim without a real answer. You can’t bring yourself to wait any longer. 

~

Min Yoongi doesn’t like you back. 

At least, that’s what he tries to tell himself before he goes to sleep, as if lying to himself might make sleep come more easily. 

The truth is, you are Min Yoongi’s favorite bedtime story. Like many other nights before, Yoongi falls asleep thinking of you, hashing and rehashing all the little details and inside jokes and past conversations. It’s a small comfort during this semester, thoughts of you keeping him warm. 

Tonight, Yoongi is replaying the conversation from earlier, the way he saw you nervously rubbed at the tough calluses on your left hand while he was playing for you, out of the corner of his eye. It made Yoongi want to make you smile, laugh at his bad jokes, and maybe, if you’d let him, gasp against his lips. It’s been less than a day since he saw you and yet he misses your laugh. 

That morning after class, you had sat up, blinking away the sun filtering through his shades, or maybe trying to clear the post-orgasm fog. Post- orgasms fog. Then you mumbled something about being late for class, a thin layer of sweat shining down to your chest. 

You had thanked him, then laughed at the misstep. God, you were so dorky that you thanked him. How was he ever supposed to resist you? 

How had the two of you come so far? 

 And the guiltiest indulgences Yoongi would allow himself in the middle of the night were the things he hadn’t experienced with you. Like a kiss. He hasn’t gotten a chance to do that, not yet. Maybe not ever. Would it be chaste? Slow and romantic? Or would it be impassioned and angry? 

Yoongi is particularly fond of the image of taking you to the jazz cafe a little ways away from campus. Would you wear a dress, once the weather warms up a little bit? What kind of coffee would you order? Do you even like jazz? What would it feel like to feel your hand slotted against his? 

He definitely wasn’t been thinking about pushing you up against the mirror in the practice room and seeing if the soundproof padding was actually properly installed. Or about that morning after classes, and those little mewling noises you made to urge him on. You were so desperate. It was cute, to say the least. 

But Yoongi wasn’t trying to think about that right now. He was thinking more about your unwavering diligence. Or the merriment in your eyes despite the tired shadows that hung beneath them. Or the way you didn’t back down from the way that he was obviously flirting with him, fighting fire with fire.

How much longer can the both of you live in denial, waiting for the other to make a tentative step forward? 

The more he thinks about it–about you–the less he can comfortably stay in his little bubble of denial. Denial can only get him so far. He tells himself that whatever relationship between the two of you is inevitable, and someone is going to do something eventually, and that’s why he’s not making a move just yet. 

Much of your relationship (or lack thereof) has been stepwise progression, slow steps. Graduating slowly from classmate to study partners to friends and closer, still. And now Yoongi had made this great leap and it felt like the both of you were lost amid the signals and the truths neither of you knew how to broach. 

And no matter how brave he is on stage, it’s nothing compared to being up close and personal with you. Cheesily enough, it’s easy enough to show a crowd what he’s been working on for months, but with you, he has to improvise. 

Truth be told, Yoongi knew he was being idealistic. The space that you two existed in had become precious to him, and he didn’t want to do anything to upset the balance, until now. There’s no easy way to make this all go away. Both of you were in too deep now. 

He saw the way you sighed into his touch, the way your eyes would go unfocused when he said something that was even remotely flirtatious, then then snap back to reality, as if you were reminding yourself of something. He knew you wouldn’t do anything any time soon. The past evening had shown him that. 

  And how was he supposed to admit his feelings for you… when he could hardly admit them to himself, in the privacy of his own room? 

And now, how could Yoongi make sense of anything? Every quiet moment carried the ghost of your voice. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was the way you had squeezed your eyes shut when he brought you to rapture. Even when you’re not with him, you’re filling up his senses. His thoughts. 

Am I in love with my friend? Are we friends because we’re in love? Am I feeling like this because of the way she says my name? Am I feeling like this because of the way she touches me? 

So those are all the reasons. To not talk to you. To talk to you. God, how the fuck was Yoongi supposed to know? 

~

You (5:03pm): hey, I think we should talk soon 

 The minutes tick by. Does the time always pass this slowly, you think to yourself. Your hand hovers over your phone keyboard. 

Fuck… what have I done. 

 You (5:15pm): that sounds sooo scary lol no pressure okay? 

 You grow desperate in the wake of his silence. Have you ruined it all?  

 Yoongi (5:30pm) yeah 

Yoongi (5:31pm): sorry I was practicing 

Yoongi (5:31pm): wasn’t looking at my phone  

Yoongi (5:31pm): let’s talk then 

Yoongi (5:32pm): where are you? 

 You find yourself at his apartment once again, the closed door spelling out all the possibilities in front of you. At least give him the benefit of the doubt, something reasons inside of you, but something darker says, think of what he’s put you through.  

Think of what you’ve put yourself through, you finally think. You’ve stood outside long enough. You’ve overwrought this, alone, long enough. 

Each knock that you rap against the door sounds like another nail in the coffin, but you still cling onto the last dregs of hope left in you. 

The door opens immediately, a rush of warm air enveloping you from outside. “Hey,” Yoongi says, shyly, almost demure in his lounge clothes and undone hair. 

You want to take him apart. 

“Hey,” You mirror, and try to pretend like Min Yoongi hasn’t stolen the breath out of you for what seems like the thousandth time. You hate that he has this effect on you. With nothing but a simple greeting, it seems like you’ve forgiven him for all your grief already. You try to push that feeling further down, trying to stay objective. 

Yoongi leads you to his couch. “Here… sit down. It’s cold outside, I made tea,” He says, padding into the kitchen. He doesn’t say anything else, but it looks like he knows exactly what you want to talk about. There’s something in the little tick in his jaw that tells you he’s just as sure as you are, but you’re tired of guessing. Your eyes are blurring from looking in between the lines for so long. 

There’s a big difference between overt facts and implied certainties. Fact: You and Yoongi are friends who study together, and now, ex-hookups. Implied: There’s something more there, something between friend and one-time hookup. 

“Um, what did you want to talk about?” Yoongi says, setting down a steaming mug in front of you. You don’t reach for it. 

“I–” You steel yourself for the words to tumble out of your mouth, but you lose your nerve. You had prepared a whole monologue on the walk to his apartment, but it doesn’t seem right now. You sigh, loosening the tension in your shoulders. “I wanted to talk about… about the last time I was at your apartment.” You hope it’s enough for him to get your point, and you hope that he’ll be honest and direct. He owes at least that much to you. 

“What about last time? Like specifically, what about last time?” Yoongi says, not flippantly. Please, you silently plead, please… just say something good.  

“Yoongi,” You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what’s to come, “What happens now? What does it mean? Please, just be honest.” When you hear your voice leave your body, you can hear how pained you sound. It wasn’t something you intended. You match his gaze and his eyes are like mirrors. “Yoongi… whatever you say, I won’t be angry. I just–I just want to know how you feel.” Your voice trembles. You hope you don’t sound as pathetic and humiliated as you feel, the scorned hookup. 

Worse yet, the scorned hookup who didn’t get the hint the first time. 

“No, no. You deserve the truth.” He sets his mug on the table, and you bristle at the fact that he doesn’t use a coaster. “I’ll, um, tell you my side of the story. Just to be clear I’m not like, mad at you, or anything like that. I’m also not the type to fuck and go… even though it looks like that. And I’m not like, going to ghost you or anything. Unless you want me to do that. In that case,” Yoongi runs a hand through his hair, lingering on the nape of his neck, “I’ll do that.”  

“Can you do something for me, y/n? Can you just–” Yoongi holds his hands out in front of him, and he clasps his hands between yours. He always knows exactly how to comfort you, even now. 

He sighs. “I wasn’t… expecting everything to happen like this. y/n, I… Just let me think about what to say for a second. But I promise, you’ll get the explanation you’re owed.” Another deep breath in. Another deep breath out. 

You sit like that for what seems like a long, stretched out moment, your hands clasped in Yoongi’s, his brow furrowed. 

“Why didn’t you say something yesterday?” You burst out. 

Yoongi clears his throat. “Okay, look. I have… a lot of… okay, I just, I wasn’t sure how to go about this whole thing. And that morning in class, I rushed everything and after that I wasn’t sure how to approach you. Then when I saw you in the music building afterward, I just wanted to talk to you… to make sure you were okay. I saw you and I blanked. I didn’t know what to say, and I didn’t know what to do without making it weird. That’s a shitty reason, but I blanked and didn’t know what to say. I’m sorry.” 

“So,” You blink, frustrated, confused, flushed hot with embarrassment and maybe a little bit of arousal, “Okay,” You say. At least you’re getting somewhere. “So… why did it happen? Why… why did we…” 

Your eyes sting, and you breathe deeply, as if you might run out of words. “Was it all in my head?” 

Yoongi’s clammy hands tighten around yours, as if he’s afraid you’ll leave. 

“No,” Yoongi exhales, “No, it wasn’t.” 

Your body is running hot and cold. It feels like something in the air has been punctured, all the tension, all the doubts, rushing away. Something new rushes in. 

“I spent all this time guessing and wondering and hoping. I ran myself ragged with all my thinking. It’s not your fault, mostly, but I’m so tired. Of guessing.” 

He smiles. Well, smirks, in that Yoongi fashion that makes it feel like the top of your head is spinning. “Stop thinking so much then.” 

“It was–” Yoongi’s voice breaks, rips in half. “It was a mistake,” Yoongi lies. You know he’s lying. You can tell from the way his eyes are looking everywhere on your face but your eyes. You can tell from the way that he wrings his hands, like he’s reading a pre-written apology from behind the camera. “I’m so, so confused about everything. This isn’t going the way I thought it would–not that–it’s just my words aren’t coming out like I thought they would. I’m sorry. I don’t mean it like a bad thing.” 

Yoongi sighs, “I thought this would be easier.” And when you look at him again, you can see the pink on his cheeks. And how dilated his pupils are, and the decreasing proximity between his lips and your lips, because again Yoongi is still death-gripping your hands in his. If you could let yourself entertain the idea, he might be pulling you closer.  

“You’re going to need to be more specific,” You say. You lean away from him, hoping that the energy in the room will simmer down if you’re not centimeters away from falling into his arms. You need to hear him talk more, say everything, explain himself. You can’t leave this room without knowing more, you won’t be satisfied with anything but the truth and the full truth. You really don’t have the energy to wait more. 

“Well, even before everything–” And this is where Yoongi waves his hands in the air, gesticulating wildly. He doesn’t elaborate, although you suppose “before the almost-handjob in class and the whole mouth-fucking each other on your couch” is a bit of a mouthful. 

“Even before everything– I knew you liked me. Like, you can’t even be surprised that I knew. Because you were really obvious. Like so obvious. But yeah. I knew, and I thought it was cute, and it was super flattering.” 

You open your mouth for a response, but you concede that he’s right. You flush ever hotter. 

Yoongi’s voice drops a little lower, like he’s telling you a secret, “And it was so fun to mess with you. Like, I could make this cute fucking girl blush and giggle and squirm and it was all because of me, how can I not be flattered? How can I not want to spend more time with you, push all your buttons? I figured you’d eventually do something about it. But you never did, no matter how much I pushed it with you. I wanted you to make the first move. But we started getting closer, and I thought maybe you were never going to do anything about it. Like we agreed to be friends, but on the inside we both liked each other? I didn’t want that to happen, but I was too scared to just go and ask you out. So I was getting frustrated. So that morning, I was just messing around with you again. I wanted to annoy you during class, I wasn’t expecting anything to come out of it. But you–I guess you were frustrated too, because you called me on my bluff. And then, you know, one thing leads to another and we’re somehow at my apartment, which I barely remember how we got there in one piece before–” Yoongi stops, breathless and something tender sparkling in his eyes. His hands aren’t gripping you like you might run away, just resting on the tops of your knees. Reminding you that he’s there. 

“And now, in the present, I’m just confused? Did I like you before or after we…” He trails off, bashful still, even now. “Or do I feel like this now because we were together? And does that even matter now, because I like you regardless?”

All the blood has rushed away from your chest. It feels like someone has knocked all the air from you but also as if a winch has tightened ever-so around your heart. 

“Let’s take it slow, if that’s something you want. Nobody…” You grapple for something to say, after that hell of a fucking lovesick speech, “Nobody said that you needed all the answers now. Don’t rush.” You take his hands back into yours. 

The weight of it all hits you slowly, in successive waves. You don’t have to filter anything out, never have to make yourself feel appropriate for him. When you practice with him, study with him, eat with him… all the quiet spaces and body-wracking laughter just feel like a perfect fit. Nothing out of place. There’s never a conversation topic or something to stray away from, other than circumventing the feelings you have for him. Even then, it’s not like Yoongi pretends like the attraction isn’t there. He doesn’t skirt around it, avoid it like taboo conversation. It really only serves to amplify your conversations, a red thread pulled taut underneath everything else. 

And now, you can give into that? You can show him how you really feel, and there’s just one less thing to hide? 

“You know, you’re not blameless. I was super stressed out at the time, and with the Bach Festival and midterms and everything I guess… you gave me the opportunity to lessen that a little, so. I know, I know. It’s a shitty excuse. But I wanted things with you and with the way that things converged, it seemed like–” 

“Serendipity?”  

“A bit like that, yes.” You tighten your hands around his, and he pulls you a little closer. You’re leaning over his lap now. 

You can’t choose whether to look into his eyes or at his lips. It looks like Yoongi has the same problem. He pulls you imperceptibly closer. 

“Can I kiss you? If that’s not rushing, of course.” 

“Yeah. Yes, please.” You soften yourself into his lap, Yoongi pulling you closer by the shoulders, sliding down to rest on your arms. You relish in the sensation, knowing it’s something that you can enjoy with a reassured heart now. 

He plants a closed kiss against your lips, and somehow that makes your heart flutter more than anything else he’s ever done before. The pads of his fingertips are soft and gentle against your arms, pulling you closer by the bicep. 

“I like you… I like you a lot…” Yoongi whispers against your lips, laughing at the confession. So sweet, so soft. 

“I like you too…” You whisper, kissing back. Slow, chaste, if a bit restrained. The realization hits you again, slowly, like an ocean wave washing over wet sand. 

Yoongi likes you back. Yoongi wants you back. You laugh at how absurd it sounds, even in your own head, nipping at his lip. “Say it again, Yoongi.” 

“I like you…” Yoongi sounds coy. 

You smile against him, “Say it again,” You gasp, pushing him back on the couch, gentle but firm, “I like you too, in case you didn’t know.” You can’t help but laugh. Not at the absurdity at the situation, but just out of happy shock. 

“y/n, I like you…” Yoongi chuckles, deep in his chest, looking up at you. His hair falls out of his eyes. 

“Do you know how happy it makes me, to hear you say that?” 

You’re honestly surprised that you don’t have whiplash. Whiplash from the weeks of tension and denial, feeling like you would never get this relief, but now you have a whole new set of problems. Dating Min Yoongi. 

~

This whole “taking it slow” thing is fucking bullshit. The past couple weeks have been one long sustained effort, some kind of marathon in testing the waters, drawing back and then pushing forward. 

Maybe you spoke too soon. You have to admit that the slow build, chaste romantic courtship is nice . 

The study dates are more than nice. The coffee shop dates feel almost luxurious, expensive in time in the same way that the actual coffee is cheap. 

Actually, all of this is a lot nicer than having to guess his every intention, the message between the lines. But you already know what it’s like to have Min Yoongi. 

In fact, things have been largely the same for the past couple weeks, except now you can feel the weight of his flirtatious jokes. You can now confidently say that Yoongi says what he means. The more time you spend with Yoongi, the more liberated you feel in letting yourself delight in the feeling of being allowed to show your feelings for him, and having them be duly reciprocated. 

After the confessional evening the both of you had, Yoongi had agreed to take it slow. In your lovesick state, you probably would have said yes to anything that Min Yoongi put on the table. Which is probably why you agreed to the whole courtship thing. 

“y/n… think about it like this! If we take our time then when the time finally comes… to… uh, you know, then it’ll be so much more gratifying. And I want to be with you more, like this,” Yoongi says, as you lean against his chest, feeling it rise and fall with his words. 

“Delayed gratification, have you ever heard of that?” Yoongi had said, smiling wider than you’d ever seen. 

“Although from my experience with you, I think you like instant gratification more,” He said, a touch darker. Your memory blurs now, because that was about the time he started tickling you relentlessly. And then kissing you relentlessly.  

And at the time, you had agreed. The delayed gratification would make everything better, make the world a little more rose-colored than before. 

You don’t want to push his boundaries, he doesn’t want to push yours, but now it’s begun nearly feels both of you are so afraid of each other that you haven’t touched each other in what seems like fucking forever–and it’s reached a boiling point, from what you can gather this evening. 

The newfound tension between the two of you is new, maybe a day or two at most, but annoying nonetheless. 

 “Y/n, how many times have I told you? Stop rushing. Do you need me to count your part out? One, two, three, four.” He punctuates every count with a clap in your face, and a sneer to boot. 

Yoongi has been especially volatile this evening. His normal jokes and jabs at you fall just short of endearing. Your initial approach at remedying the situation by focusing on the music at hand has only seemed to make things worse, and you’ve given in to your slowly-growing temper. 

“I am fucking counting, and I’m not the one playing fucking half notes, okay? How about you just focus on making the harmony, I don’t know, harmonious ?” You lower your violin, face screwing up in anger, only you don’t know how much of it is joking anymore. 

You don’t know how much longer you can take this kind of tension in the air. It feels angry and red and biting, but you can’t help it. The stale air-conditioned air in the practice room only seems to make your face warmer and warmer as time passes. 

All this tension, and no release. That’s what music is all about. The build-up of musical intensity, the expectation and anticipation for resolution. It’s like you’ve been stuck on the same chord of a cadence, waiting for a release that feels like it isn’t coming anytime soon. 

You take a deep breath, the frustration tightening in your chest. “From measure eighty-four, and take the fucking repeat this time. Let’s just move onto the next section after this, we’ll just come back to it later.” 

You fight the urge to huff and sigh, knowing it would only earn you a comment from Yoongi about being, as he had put it, ‘wound up.’ Yeah, no shit, you’re wound up. Wound up is putting it lightly. Just last week Yoongi had made a mess of you at his apartment, teasing you apart and then stopping just short of an orgasm. And he said the same thing last week too: delayed gratification. 

You try again, cueing him in with a sharp breath and the uptake of your bow. 

And again, and again, and again. 

“This isn’t working.” You set your violin on the soft lining of your case and rub your temples, resting your upper body on the body of the piano. You swipe the back of your hand across your face, breathing in the clean smell of the hand soap from Yoongi’s apartment bathroom, from when you were there a couple hours ago. Warm. Brown sugar. It feels like his embrace–if only you’d ever feel it again. 

God, why did you let him push all your buttons? All evening–ever since the two of you left his apartment to come to the practice rooms–he’s been acting like this. You know it has something to do with you, another game. But you don’t have the energy to divine his ulterior motive, whatever it is. You shut your eyes to provide some reprieve from the strain of staring at the same phrase that you have been stuck on for what has felt like an eternity.

“Yeah, this isn’t fucking working,” He says. It reminds you of the way he talked to you when you found him practicing in the early morning that one Tuesday. You only open your eyes when you hear him get up from his bench. 

Min Yoongi is standing too close to you. His eyes are on your lips and not your eyes. Even in the dim light of the practice room, you can see how dilated his pupils are. 

You meet his eyes. “You’re ridiculous,” he says, more breathless than he’d like to admit, “You’re provoking me. Why?” 

“Who said I was trying to do that? I think you,” You point a finger at his chest, looking into his eyes, “Are provoking me.” You try to sound as petulant as possible, and it works. 

Yoongi’s lips meet yours before you can even take your hands off of him. 

In the best sense of the word, you are cornered. Backed up against the piano, enclosed by his arms. He slips his hands up underneath the cotton of your sweatshirt, pulling you flush against him. His cool fingertips grazing the small of your back have you gasping against his soft lips. 

“Tell me, why are you provoking me?” 

“I, well-” You don’t continue with an excuse, because you’re finally getting what you want. What you both want. 

He presses on. “Gonna answer my question, or are you just gonna keep being a little brat?”  He wedges his thigh between your legs, closer to where you need him most. You stifle a moan, it’s too soon to be making those kinds of sounds, but you grind down on him anyway. “What?” He laughs, the sound sitting deep in his chest. “Aren’t you going to say something?” 

You try to focus on the possessiveness in the way that he holds you by the waist, so you’re not thinking about how weak your knees are. 

He sighs, as if in disappointment. Only you’re not sure who it’s directed towards. 

“If I touch you right now, will you be wet?” He laughs. “I don’t even have to guess.” The ghost of his breath fans against your upper lip. “Is this what you want? Do you, do you, want to keep going?” Yoongi stops his ministrations. When you meet his eyes, both of you breathless, you can see the inquiring concern in his eyes again. 

“Yes, yes, don’t stop,” you say, trying, and failing, not to sound frantic, “Only if you’ll see it through to the end this time,” You bite. 

He laughs, devoid of mirth. “You say that like it’s not hard for me, either.” His hands trail down your torso to rest at the waist of your jeans. You don’t want to pseudo-argue with him anymore, so you just whine a little from the back of your throat, hoping he’ll get the point. 

You don’t want him to think that this isn’t what you want, because truth be told, it is exactly what you want. Your hands come to meet his when you reach to undo the button. 

“You know exactly what to do.” He laughs, lighter this time. He’s laughing like he’s not mad at you. He helps undo your jeans, pushing them and your panties just past your thighs. You gasp when he starts rubbing gentle circles on your clit. His fingers slip against your wet, slippery pussy. 

Yoongi is everywhere. He’s crowding your space against the wall, hand down your pants, the other holding your neck in place. It’s getting overwhelming with his beautiful hand rubbing little circles on your clit. So simple, and yet it feels like you’re breaking apart underneath him. It’s getting harder and harder to bite back the moans, stay in control. 

“You know, these rooms are soundproof. Let me hear you,” He murmurs, pulling you closer. “Stop hiding from me.” 

Yoongi shifts his attention from your wet cunt to the collar of your shirt. “What’s this? Getting busy without me?” Yoongi brushes his free hand over the circular dark mark coloring the crook of your jaw. You’re starting to get impatient with all this teasing, how much more can you take? 

“Haven’t you ever heard of a violin hickey?” You spit, grinding down on his hand, but it’s not enough. God, it really has been too long since he last touched you. He never stops the gentle advance he makes on your clit, never faster, never slower. Just barely enough. “We were just practicing, it gets darker when I play.” You try to explain yourself, as if that might make him show mercy later on. 

“You’re not in any position to talk back right now, don’t forget that.” He leaves open-mouthed kisses down your neck, sucking gently. “I’ll just help you add to your little collection.” Your eyes roll back, unable to help yourself. It’s been so long since anyone has touched you. It’s been so long since anyone has held you so closely. 

Your desperation is beginning to show. With every movement of his hands, Yoongi starts to lessen his touch, your hips dogging his hand. You come to the realization that you’re not above begging to get what you want. He doesn’t even have to ask. 

He continues his gentle assault on your clit. “Do you know what these mirrors are for? They’re for checking your posture as you practice, but I guess this is just a different kind of practice.” He turns you around, your hips digging into the wood panelling of the piano. You’re confronted by your own fucked-out reflection, flushed and panting. You’re still mostly clothed, and yet you look debaucherous, like some ancient painting of a study into the nuances of female pleasure. “Look at you. All messy. And for what? I’ve barely touched you.” 

The frustration is too much, reaching a boiling point. “Please, I swear to God.” You bury your hands in your head, wiping away frustrated tears. Your legs are trembling now, now that Yoongi is only using one of his arms to brace you against him. 

“Please, what?” He digs his nails into the soft skin of your hip, and you can’t help but like it. He lowers his head so it’s level with your ear, sultry, low. “Use your words.” 

“Can’t you just, just-” Again, you buck your hips against his hand, as if that might make him get the point, only for him to nip at your inner thigh with his hand. 

“Don’t rush me, babe.” Babe. Min Yoongi is calling you babe. Is the universe playing some trick on you? 

He takes advantage of your position and leverages his knee on the inside of yours, spreading your legs further. “That’s it, just take it. Take it.” Finally, he takes pity on you and slips a finger inside. He earns an answering gasp. You can tell he means business, because he doesn’t take it slow, he doesn’t let you adjust, going directly at that spot inside of you that makes you keen for him. 

You struggle to stay upright, eyes rolling back. Your fingers scrabble along the dark wood of the piano, struggling to find purchase. 

“Fuck, Yoongi…” 

“So needy, look at you, so fucking needy...” He drives his point home further by adding a second finger. 

“I’m sooooo sorry… how can I ever make it up to you…?” Even despite the mind-bending pleasure and the prospect of Min Yoongi blowing your back out this evening, you roll your eyes. 

“What if someone hears?” Your point is lost when Yoongi changes the angle of his hand, and you break off into a ragged whimper. It’s loud enough to make you embarrassed to have made that sound in the presence of another person.  

“Oh, so you care about that now?” “What about that one time in class,” Yoongi all but pants in your ear, digging his nails into your thigh, “That you were being a desperate little cocktease?” 

You don’t answer, shame stoking the embers in your belly, driving lower and lower. You hate, and love, that he can make you feel like this with only some stern wording and a firm hand. Because it feels that good. Because you like him that much. 

“What then, hmm?” Yoongi doesn’t wait for a response however, before he’s yanking your jeans and panties further down your thighs. “Do me a favor. Touch yourself for me. Show me.” 

“Why?” 

“Wanna see you all messy for me,” Yoongi says, voice silky soft, liquid sex. He guides your hand down to your pussy, and god, you realize just how embarrassingly wet you are for such little foreplay. “Please?” He presses his chest flush to your back, leaning his forehead into the crook of your neck. 

You oblige him. You’re wet to the point where it’s difficult to find purchase against your clit. “Okay… but you have to forgive me.” 

“Forgive you for what?” 

“For being needy…” You say, sweetly. 

“Sure. I’ll forgive anything you do if you do this every time.” He says it like it’s a matter of fact. 

You giggle, like a lovesick idiot. At the very least, you’re glad that Yoongi can make you laugh even when you’re half-play-fighting, half-on-the-verge-of-having-sex-in-your-favorite-practice room. 

The vibrations of your laughter traveling through your body have you moving in new, novel ways against your own hand, and you break off into a moan. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Yoongi murmurs, voice barely above a scratchy whisper. He sounds genuine, and the tenderness of the moment isn’t lost to you, even despite your pleasure. At least now that you’re touching yourself, you don’t have to suffer the patient wrath of Yoongi and can touch yourself the way that you see fit. 

You feel his free hand nudge against the back of your thigh and when you look, he’s dragging the heel of his hand across his pants. 

Fuck. Fuck, you are so wrecked for Min Yoongi. 

“No, you too,” you say, “Show me too.” 

Yoongi moves away from you, pushing his waistband past his hips. He’s gripping his cock in one hand. He’s reaching for your waist again, his hand traveling up to grasp your throat. He jerks your head back. “Look, look at yourself.” 

The combined sensation of his hand on your neck and own hand on your pussy is too much. Your eyes water. “Yoongi,” You gasp, “I’m going to come.” 

“No, not yet. Not yet.” He wrenches your hand away, and the sudden lack of touch is almost cruel. 

You buck against him, his back to you. “Please, please let me come, I can’t–you can’t do this again, fuck,” Your desperation comes out in whines, all shame lost. 

“Be patient, come here.” He turns you around again, your back against the wood of the piano. And you’re looking into his eyes, dark and filled with something like lust. Min Yoongi wants you. You reach up to brush his hair out of his eyes. 

Yoongi’s on your clit again, drawing light circles, testing the wetness before slipping a finger inside again. “I wanna hear you,” He says, adding another finger, more tenacity behind his strokes. He rocks his thumb against your clit. “I wasn’t asking.” 

Up until now you’ve been biting your lip, muffling your cries as best as you can. You look up at him again, drawing up your courage. You feel exposed–how can you not, half-naked in the practice room, when you’re not completely confident that the soundproof padding on the walls can contain the sounds of your rapture. 

“You-you fuck me so good Yoongi–” And you keen, just because he asked you to. 

He stops in his fucking tracks. Again. 

“Well. You fuck me so well. You can’t describe a verb with an adjective. God, I really shouldn’t let you come…” 

“Oh my God, are you really going to do this right now.” You bear down on his hand with your hips again, seeking more friction. “Please… please, I can’t wait anymore.” You can hardly finish your sentence, as Yoongi fucks into you with a particularly hard thrust. You’re finding it difficult to keep your eyes open, instead opting to rest your head on his shoulder. 

God, he smells so good. Like fresh laundry and the melting snow outside, warm and human and reassuring. 

You can feel his smile ghosting over your neck as he leans down to suck another mark into your collarbone. “Yes, yes, I am.” 

“I’m–I’m getting close again,” You say, fisting your hands in his shirt, “Just, ah–” It takes you by surprise, crashing over you. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to stay upright, pulling Yoongi against you. You can feel his satisfied smile, as he pants against the curve of your neck, hot and heady and everything you need. 

“Good?” He asks, after your breathing has calmed, even though you know that he knows that he’s done more than a good job. 

“Okay, okay, enough bragging,” You half-laugh, half-scoff, pulling your pants up past your hips again. 

“I wasn’t bragging,” He whines. It’s endearing, and you pepper his face with kisses before you get to business again. 

You sink to your knees before him, and his expression immediately softens. You try to bridge the gap between the two of you, placing the palm of your hand on his thigh. Asking for permission. 

“Are you sure?” He says, but the expression in his eyes saying something to the effect of “I really hope you’re sure.”  

“Yes, I’m sure,” You say, smiling as you tease the head of his cock with your parted lips. You replace his hand with yours. It’s barely any contact, really, but Yoongi closes his eyes in pleasure nonetheless, head tilted back. Normally, in any other situation like this, you’d be at least a little bit nervous. Or shy, hoping that Yoongi keeps his eyes closed so he’s not looking at you. But the absolute deprivation you’ve felt for the past couple weeks is enough for you to not care. 

You sink lower, in the wake of remembering how pent up and frustrated you’ve felt for the past couple weeks. You even, at least try to, bat your eyelashes at him. But like you guessed (or had hoped), his eyes are squeezed shut. You try not to delight in the sudden change of power too much, but it’s impossible not to. 

He tightens his grip on the back of your neck, groaning. “You’re so good to me.” You take him further in your mouth, eager to please. Eager to hear him make more of those sounds. Eager to take this further. 

You try your best to make it slick, flattening your tongue against him. You’re a little out of practice, after months of being alone, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to notice. And if he does, he’s still enjoying himself. Thoroughly. 

“Fuck, fuck,” He gasps, in hushed whispers. 

“What a mouth on you…” Yoongi moves stray hairs out of your face, surprisingly tender given the lewdness of the situation. The sounds of your mouth fill the practice room, although hopefully not loud enough to expose your vulnerable position. You truly hope that the soundproof padding lining the walls works as advertised. 

“Ah–ah wait, I’m getting close, wait–ah, y/n, fuck,” He rasps. You don’t let up quite yet, letting him sit in that in-between space between ‘on the edge’ and ‘letting go’. His free hand makes a weak fist against his leg. 

Someone knocks on the door. Your first thought is that it may be security wrapping up rounds for the night. 

Your eyes widen in shock as you stand upright and zip up your jeans. The surge from adrenaline at the prospect of getting caught in the act makes your head pulse and spin. Your heart seems to have fallen from the left side of your chest all the way into the pit of your stomach. 

It’s hard to remember how aroused you were, not thirty seconds ago. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” For someone who was quite literally about to be balls-deep inside you, Yoongi tucks his dick back inside his pants with a surprising amount of tact and speed. 

Yoongi is fixing his hair in the practice mirror as you cross the room at the piano bench, pulling out your phone to make it look like the two of you were just dawdling or taking a practice break. 

Maybe twenty seconds have elapsed since the first knock at the door, which you reason might be a reasonable time for someone to stop practicing, and walk to the door to answer it. You hope it might seem reasonable. 

You can feel the pulse in your neck moving as Yoongi opens the door. You train your eyes on your phone screen, as if that might make you more nonchalant.  

“Hey, Yoongi-hyung.” The voice at the door is youthful, and energetic. You can even hear the smile in his voice. “I didn’t know you were here this late. I was looking for you!” You finally muster up the courage to stop staring at your phone, your eyes venturing to the other side of the room. 

It’s… Jungkook?  

Jungkook, as in, the only bassoonist in the department, Jungkook? 

Jungkook must have had the same idea as you, because he looks over at you at the same time you do. 

His smile falters, albeit briefly. Whatever replaces it is something akin to a smirk. A knowing smirk. An accusatory smirk. A proud smirk. 

“Hyung, who’s that?”