#again i get why it's appealing to make them normal in order to contrast Night Vale's weirdness but
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ok so a lot of people make Carlos and his team of scientists out to be normal people which, fair enough. they are shown to be confused/concerned by Night Vale, so i get why
but also let's please not forget that one of his scientists (Lusia) researches Being Disappointed In Potatoes, or that Carlos (completely seriously) said he studies Science, not plants or nature, or that their science machines are literally just called Science Machines
these people are not normal bestie
#again i get why it's appealing to make them normal in order to contrast Night Vale's weirdness but#they are also incredibly weird#wtnv#welcome to night vale#comedy#lusia wtnv#wtnv lusia#not tma#carlos the scientist#carlos wtnv#wtnv carlos#carlos#carlos' team of scientists
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Harry And Personal Conflict: A Meta On Evolving Dynamic With Ron and Hermione
One of my last metas on Harry was how his abuse at the Dursleys informed who he is as a person and a lot of his main personality traits. This time, I want to explore Harry's relationship with conflict, mostly in regard to his best friends - Ron and Hermione.
First things first, because of his abusive upbringing where he is constantly in conflict with his caregivers, conflict is seen as Bad Thing when we first meet him as a 11 year old. And it informs how he reacts to both Ron and Hermione at first. He instantly relates to Ron because Ron is an underdog - a boy who feels neglected and passed over in his large and boisterous family. Harry shares his own experience of neglect with Ron and they both bond instantly.
His initial impression of Hermione is that she has a "bossy sort of voice" . The bossiness is an important characterstic to his impression of her - she reminds him of an authority figure and he does not particularly take to her as easily as he does Ron. Before the troll incident, he is frequently annoyed by her interventions because "he can't believe anyone would be so interfering". It's her vulnerability and the fact that she may be in danger that makes Harry, and by extension Ron, go after her. And she pays it back in full with a demonstration of loyalty to them in front of people she wants to impress: teachers. This sets the tone of his friendship with Ron and Hermione.
There is sense of easiness to his friendship with Ron, especially in earlier books that he doesn't quite share with Hermione. This is a bit gendered as well, of course. His relationship with Hermione evolves as Ron's own equation with two of them changes, more specifically Ron's cognisance of his romantic feelings for Hermione. So how does this inform his relationship with personal conflict?
Let's look at it Book wise.
Book 1-4: Since Harry tends to see All Conflict As Bad, when Hermione becomes his friend, he tends to ignore traits of her that he particularly doesn't take to. Specifically her argumentativeness - which he usually leaves Ron to deal with. For example, look at when Hermione drags him off to the kitchens in GOF. When he realises what this is about, he nudges Ron, and Ron does the protesting: "Hermione, you are trying to rope us into that spew stuff again!".
Often, you can say he is amused by Ron's more ..let's say colourful.. reactions to Hermione being overbearing. So when Ron and him are not speaking and Hermione gets a Quidditch term wrong, it causes him "a pang to imagine Ron's expression of he could have heard Hermione talking about Wonky Faints". It's that deeply ingrained into the dynamic.
While Ron acts buffer and protects Harry from stepping into a potential conflict ("skip the lecture", "don't nag" he tells her), Harry's world view remains quite the same. Part of Harry's growing up is integrating conflicting points of view and gaining nuance. For example, he can't understand why someone like Snape, who seems to hate him so much, can also save his life at the end of Philosopher's Stone. This is his first venture into trying to integrate two conflicting things about a person into nuance. Dumbledore gives him a very easily digestible story, one that appeals to his ideal of his father and Harry is sated.
Again, Harry's world view is tested when he finds out that he relates with Tom Riddle - for their "strange likenesses". He doth protest too much at Dumbledore's office: "I don't think I am like him! I am Gryffindor!". And Dumbledore offers him a wisdom nugget: "It's our choices which define who we are" (paraphrasing). Harry is uncomfortable that he empathises with Tom Riddle, his parents' murderer, at this point in the story.
In the first four books, his only proper personal conflict has been with Ron.
It is depressing to think about in these terms - but Ron is Harry's first experience of unconditional love (we can even put Hagrid here, but he is not the one who spends most time with Harry). And when Ron and him fight, Harry is so hurt by the prospect that he proceeds to abandon Ron before Ron abandons him. (the whole chucking a "Potter stinks" badge at him and making a jab about having a scar is what he wants, or the fight in DH where he yells "then leave! Pretend you have gotten over your spattergoit and have your mummy feed you up"). It's an interesting defense mechanism and he feels "corrosive hatred" towards Ron during these times because Ron and him aren't supposed to be like this. Ron is a certainty in his life. It's also why when Ron comes back, Harry either doesn't need him to apologise (as in GOF) or quickly forgives him in DH - although I do think Harry thinks the locket bit was punishment enough. But even without the whole locket, I think Harry has trouble holding Ron accountable in general beyond few slaps on the wrist - especially if Ron and he are on good terms.
5th Book: This is the transition point for Golden Trio friendship. Harry has come back from an immensely traumatising night at the graveyard and his PTSD isolates him from his best friends. This is also the point where Ron, especially after GOF, is aware of his romantic feelings for Hermione ("the perfume is unusual Ron", Hermione tells him in this book). So in this book, we often see Ron and Hermione on one side, with Harry on the other.
Ron is unwilling (quite like Harry in that respect) to engage him in a direct conflict, but he is also unwilling to shield him from Hermione's nagging in this book. This is why, OOTP is the book where you see Harry ignore or avoid Hermione and lie to her more than usual to avoid conflict. For example, he tells her that Snape thinks he can carry on Occlumency once he got the basics - that is categorically not what happened. Or the entire day he spends ignoring Hermione's warnings about breaking into Umbridge's office. (The description here is comical - about Hermione vehemently hissing so much that Seamus Finnigan is checking his cauldron for leaks. ) If he cannot lie to her or avoid her, at the end of the rope, he will treat her to display of his frightening temper.
Interestingly, OOTP is also the book that his world view goes through a tremendous upheaval: mainly, his ideal of his father and having empathy for Snape. It is unnerving for Harry to see Snape being the "boy who cried in the corner" when his father shouts at a cowering woman. Similarly unnerving is that his intense empathy for him - "he knew exactly what Snape felt when his father taunted him and judging by what he had seen, his father was every bit as arrogant as Snape always told him".
While he is placated that his father grew out of it, this memory of his father being a bully is something he cannot bear to watch again in DH. Few chapters later, he grins at Ron "sweeping his hair" back to make it look more windswept, just like his father - suggesting that Harry is beginning to integrate two conflicting things he knew about his father: from the people who loved him vs the people he was cruel to.
6th Book onwards: It's interesting to me that his better appreciation for Hermione comes after OOTP (one, because she is the one who challenged the whole Ministry plan and she followed him into a trap knowing it was one anyway) but also the timing of it is in line with Harry having a more nuanced understanding of his father. He struggled to hold conflicting information about him into one cohesive person - the boy who was a bully vs the man who joins Order of Phoenix to fight a war he could very well have sat out. The pedestal crashing helped Harry gain nuance (he thinks of his father and mother with pride in HBP - of them walking into an arena with head held high). HBP also sets up his deeper understanding with Snape in DH. There is lovely meta by about this by thedreamersmusing. Read it here. HBP is also the book he feels "sorry" for Voldemort and also feels "reluctant admiration" for him - both of things he is less defensive about.
And this nuance informs his relationship with conflicts - especially the kind he has with Hermione. He is more confrontational with her and does not lie or sneak around her as much as he did in OOTP in the Half Blood Prince. ("Finished? Or do you want to see if it does back flips?" He asks her when she takes the book from him to check if it's jinxed. Or the "I hope you enjoy yourself" he calls out irritably when she declares intention to find out who HBP is. And "do you want to rub it in Hermione? How do you think I feel now?" He tells her when she says she was right about HBP).
The fact that he is willing to be confrontational with her is a big step in his character - a step up from his unregulated outbursts in OOTP, which is a function of him not knowing how to put his anger across in normal ways. He is also more willing to stand up for her in front of Ron too - "You could say sorry" he tells Ron bluntly. This is in contrast to his more quiet standing up for her in POA: "Can't you give her a break?" Harry asked him quietly. In POA, he lets the subject drop after Ron flatly refuses. Here, he presses on more : "What did you have to imitate her for?" "She laughed at moustache!" "So did I, it's the stupidest thing I have ever seen".
His relationship with Ron is an interesting contrast to his relationship with Hermione, which functionally teaches a very important lesson for an abused child who thought all conflicts are bad: That his friendship with her is challenging, and frustrating, filled with conflicts but their love for each other isn't disputed. It's a very important thing for brain development in general - to hold conflicting information in one space. The defense mechanism abused children do to avoid this is called splitting.
So, Ron allows Harry to be the age he is: a teenager and it's foundation for his further development, and Hermione teaches him how to be an adult, and therefore, spurs his growth. (In esoteric terms, if you look at Ron and Hermione as proxy parents - Ron is the Mother archetype, the one who offers unconditional love. Hermione is the Father archetype - one who demands best of him, and guides him).
Additional reading: Harry, Prongs and Prince - Harry's Inner Struggles For Forging An Identity. By u/metametatron4
Harry Identifies, and Reluctantly Admires Snape Even Before The Prince's Tale by thedreamersmusing
#harry james potter#hp meta#harry potter character analysis#hp character analysis#golden trio#golden trio analysis#harry x ron x hermione#harry and ron#harry and hermione#ron x Hermione#severus snape#james Potter#harry potter#tom riddle#albus percival wulfric brian dumbledore#albus dumbledore#metas#harry potter and order of phoenix#harry Potter and half blood Prince
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Me me meeee <3 I'll request a full analysis about NCT's Johnny! 😚😚 Include errrrthing baby hahaha 18+ stuff, him as a romantic partner aka bf <3 whatever you want! I'm so excited to read this akndfkgkfn 😎😎😎❤️❤️
Johnny Suh - Natal chart
Finally finished it!! Johnny was actually the most requested member I received in my inbox! Sorry that it’s nearly the length of a novel lmao but I sectioned it to make it easier to read and navigate 💕
(Not claiming to be an expert this is just for fun please don’t take anything too seriously!) Hope this is helpful and that you enjoy it 🥰❤️
Personality: Aquarius Sun, Gemini Moon, Aqua Mercury, Virgo rising, Leo Mars
While Aqua is a fixed sign it is definitely the most adaptable of the 3 fixed signs due to the Air element of Aquarius plus the ever spontaneous Gemini moon. Most things that make the rest of us feel anxious tend not to seem that scary to fearless Gemini or cool as a cucumber Aquarius.
Natural social butterflies who love their tribe deeply and fiercely once they find them. Busy bodies who are easily bored if left unstimulated too long which will turn into crankiness if not rectified quickly. Thankfully Aqua & Gem have a zest for life that makes them quite easy to please. They are open minded and will gladly stay up till 3am talking about aliens and conspiracy theories, just like they are thrilled to go on last minute random trips just because why not (Gemini impulsivity at it’s finest lmao)
Gemini is a mutable sign unlike fixed Aquarius. This is a pretty big difference and something that goes under the radar with Aquas due to that cool as a cucumber attitude. Because they are adaptable and typically very easy going they don’t often show their stubborn aggressive sides and honestly prefer not to have to unless they are feeling extremely disrespected or pushed beyond their boundary which is a BIG let me say that again, BIG no no with Aquarius (almost as big as it is for for the water signs)
Adding to these deep inner thoughts and vast inner world that Aquarians have, his Virgo rising adds more depth and self awareness. As perfectionists and highly intellectual minds they are a lot more self critical than they let on, just like they are a lot more caring and soft than they let on. They deeply care about others and the world in general seeing the big picture in a very earthy and traditional way - good people should strive to put good out and try their very best at whatever they do. They deeply dislike mean, malicious, manipulative, or spiteful behavior or people and generally keep guarded around people they don’t know well until they feel certain of the person’s true intention. There’s nothing Virgo is more cautious of than to be swindled or hurt by someone they take it reallyy hard and they know it.
Now we alllll know his swag and confidence is legendary and we can all thank the Leo Mars placement for that and the beautiful lush shiny hair and big toothy smile (Looking at Mark, Jaemin and Xiaojun like 👁👄👁) But beyond the aesthetics and dripping confidence and charisma, Leo is another creative sign that tends to be a lot more intellectual and intuitive than people give them credit for.
When the other members call Johnny one of the scariest members you can bet it’s his aggressive fiery fixed Leo Mars which is loud and even violent when provoked enough not to mention the fixed Aquarius tornado energy...Oooof that is a lot of Fixed sign rage right there honey so let’s tread lightly with Johnny boy and appeal to his open minded and friendly nature with a gentle tone and non-pointed words during discussions and all shall be good even if there’s some disagreeing!
Honestly if the argument starts getting bad you can always distract the Gemini moon by just bringing up other interesting topics! Geminis minds move FAST and while they can process a lot of information quickly and precisely they tend to get distracted easily (but here’s the good side of that😉)
Aquarius have a deep love of family and the desire to create their own (Geminis often share this trait) they can feel a bit like outsiders or “other” from people and thus crave to build a tribe of their own - this can be friends that are lifelong deep relationship carried on no different than family or starting their own family with a partner and kids
Relationships:
Non-Romantic Relationships & overall communication style: Aquarius Sun, Gemini Moon, Aqua Mercury, Leo Mars, Virgo Rising
Built off laughter, time spent together whether its at home hanging out casually or going out for meals and fun new things to try together
Wants to bounce lots of ideas off of his closest friends and secretly loves doing creative stuff together the most - this is pretty evident if you watch JCC he’s happiest when he’s doing stuff with his bros whether it’s sporty, musical, or crafts
Does not like to be vulnerable even with those he’s close to, tends to stick to neutral and more light hearted topics of interest and conversation because he prefers to spread a good mood instead of a heavy one
If he really trusts you or has worked through it enough already to want to talk about something serious you’d better listen cause the boy drops gems of wisdom and has a really soft mushy heart
Immediately adopts his close friends as family and no matter the time apart or distance will always treat them the same
Likes friends he can learn from and take on new adventures with they satisfy the intellectual Virgo rising and Aqua & leo sign thrill needs - Gemini is all about BOTH of these
Deeply appreciates loyalty, acts of service, and quality time with his friends and family - makes his heart soooo happy BUT
He would rather fucking DIE than let you or anyone see him cry so he cries like 4 times a year at 3am in the bathroom while everyone’s asleep (HIGHKEY feel like Ten & Jaehyun are exactly like this too)
Romantic relationships and preferences: Capricorn Venus, Leo Mars, Capricorn Juno, Capricorn Eros
Mr. Johnny Suh has THREE Capricorn placements tied to love and intimacy so that’s saying something lmao
Going against Aquarius’ open mindedness and anti-traditional persona Capricorn prefers all things traditional and stable.
Very much does acts of service for his partner as a sign of affection also lots of touching and quality time.
A veryyyyyy spontaneous boyfriend/partner thanks to that Gemini moon - he either wants to stay at home in pjs and order food and have movie marathons or whisk you away on zero notice to a trip lol
Earth sign men are drawn to women who embody very flowery feminine energy and aesthetics. They prefer a “natural beauty” who can spice it up sometimes rather than a super flashy 24/7 partner. (He’s said in the past that his ideal type is Yoona which says it all lol)
Will be highly drawn and intrigued by someone with a high work ethic and high intellect. BIG bonus points if you can keep up with his sarcasm and jokes.
Earth signs are pretty physical and handsy so expect to have little personal space around him, make no mistake they enjoy this very much. He will definitely be grabbing you and picking you up often! He’ll be smirking down at you devilishly watching you get flustered backed into a corner trapped by the sheer size of his muscular body. A Capricorn male’s ego really enjoys this dynamic, trust me lol.
Also another quirky male Capricorn trait that actually applies to Aqua & Gem as well… They like to initiate all the touchy feely stuff - What I mean by that is they can get easily spooked by clinginess too early on. These three signs want romance and definitely want to feel that you’re into them but they also are innately independent and enjoy relationships where their partner can also go off into the world and thrive in their own way and meet back together in the middle. So long as you can find a happy balance, when you are together you won’t have to initiate anyways honestly because he’ll be the one pulling you.
Okay let's talk about Juno & Eros - Juno in Capricorn is about serious, loyal, long term commitment though they tend to marry later in life once they’ve already achieved the things they want to for themselves which I can see being the case for Johnny as well especially with his current career.
18+ Preferences:
Eros in Cap where to begin - high libido, stimulated by visuals and touch. Wear interesting colors, patterns, textures to catch his eyes & his hands - lacy lingerie is a plus the texture will really excite him and the feminine look will please his earthy traditional cap side. If you really wanna have him drooling throw in some spicy contrasts like a leather choker with the lace set and you’ll also set off his Aqua, Gem, and Leo placements as well ;)
Tends to bounce back and forth between fucking you like you’re a cheap groupie whore and taking his time staring you in the eyes and kissing you passionately as he’s stomach deep - no inbetween but really who’s complaining??
DOM KINK - NOT UP FOR DEBATE he has THREE Capricorn placements for fucksake meaning 3 cardinal signs which are literally called “the INITIATORS” plus all his other fixed personality placements
More of the classy rich ceo vibes kind of dom (suits, expensive cologne and jewelry, leather, black and red binds) - takes you to bougie hotels when he really wants to ramp it up and not have to care who hears. You can expect not to sleep those nights but he’ll damn sure pamper you afterwards with cuddles, food, and a spa date.
Now...with all his Air sign placements...I have to say it...he’s a kinky ass dude. Few things are off the table, but he’s also super content with “normal” stuff too. It’s more about the person and experience for him than doing the wildest things possible. So if it feels natural and right then he’s down.
Don’t be surprised if he wants to tie you up like a pretzel or role play because he’s definitelyyy going to ask. Well actually he’d probably just buy whatever outfit or binds he wanted to use and casually be like “look what I got for us baby” as if it’s matching charm bracelets or something. The good news is he’ll dress up and get into it with you and he’s super receptive to your boundaries, fantasies and making it enjoyable as possible for you too.
If you flip the script on him and suddenly break the norm either by taking the initiate/lead first or trying something new he will absolutely combust 🤯 and be in the palm of your hand staring in absolute awe and fascination till he can’t take it anymore and reclaims his spot as the one in control
Nudes, videos, and phone sex when apart are a definite and they really keep the passion burning for him which is honestly VERY important and don’t worry he’s NOT shy and you will be grateful for the beautiful collection of photos and videos 🤤
Boredom for Aquas, Gems, and Caps can quickly lead into self-sabotaging behaviors and/or wandering eyes not because they don’t value loyalty but that they really need and benefit from mental stimulation and feeling wanted so when that’s gone they can pull away
Honestly pretty much any type of lingerie or outfit will turn him on because the most arousing part for him is knowing that you spent time doing such a naughty thing for his sake
Breeding kink - 3 earth placements and has said himself in interviews he would’ve started having kids at 25 if he wasn’t an idol soooooo that’s a definite. He imagines you pregnant with his baby and it makes him super soft and warm which quickly turns to super turned on. He loves the primal marking aspect of claiming you in such a way and also watching you unravel to the point of begging him to do it. Even if it’s just “play” he loves it and will probably think about it a lot more than you know. If you ever do it for real he will be utterly and completely obsessed with you forever and be practically more excited about all the stages of your pregnancy than you are
#nct#nct 127#johnny suh#nct Johnny#nct 127 imagines#nct 127 scenarios#nct astrology#nct 127 fluff#nct 127 smut#Johnny suh fluff#Johnny suh smut
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shrouded in ambers
Jamil Viper Birthday Special!
𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: jamil viper x f!reader
𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: when you’re always crawling to be on the good graces of the al-asim family, there’s only one obstacle standing in your way—the loyal servant directly under the first prince himself
𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘(𝕤): hate-sex?, non consensual touching (minor), slightly dub-con, cunnilingus, high sexual tension, semi-public sex, enemies to..?, servant!reader, slight au!
𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 2.7k
𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: grrr going feral for birthday boy jamil is great <3 and i apologise for any mistakes/typing erros—i was too lazy to proofread whoops-
Having a smile plastered on your face is a custom in the life you live. Many people warm up much quicker to a seemingly kinder face than a gruff feature—you’re not sure of the detail but you get better responses from doing the former.
You have a kind smile, you’re told often followed with your usual response of I just enjoy what I do, is all. That kindness of yours has taken you to great heights.
You’re adored by the Al-Asim family; trusted with tending to the younger family members and adjusting their troubles. You’ve climbed up the ranks in a silent hierarchy of servants through years of patience and endurance—you’re not going to allow yourself to fall into a life of poverty just because of a minor slip up.
Then again, becoming a trusted maidservant of the Al-Asim family, one so close to the royal family themselves and not just for cleaning services, can be a difficult feat to acquire. Especially if you’re not from a line of family that’s been in service to them for generations. No, you were taken in from the slums and going back isn’t an option you’d want to make.
You want a much higher pedestal. Somewhere you know they wouldn’t be able to get rid of you so easily if you slipped up just a bit because acting perfect on a day to day basis can be so tiring. It’s taken off more years in your life than any disease you know of.
The plan is simple: appeal to the higher ranking family members and you’re fine. The only problem is that the job you desire is already occupied—by someone you might as well consider as the devil incarnate.
“I see you still have the tendency to daydream,” Jamil’s voice is soft when he speaks, the meaning behind his words contrasting to the smooth timbre of his vocals and you have to hold back a glare when turning to him.
The smile you offer comes naturally to you—trained to stretch on your lips at any given moment as you give the long-haired male a small bow. “Mister Viper. What a surprise.. are you not tending to the First Prince?” Your fingers are clasped together over your maids outfit, then thin material worn out from years of daily use but you take pride in maintaining the smooth white colour the dress comes in.
Jamil’s face remains neutral, staring at you as if looking for your inner demons before he turns around. “I shall take my leave,” he utters, never losing the cool edge to his voice and you keep the smile on your face until his footsteps are no longer heard.
When the silence once again envelops your surroundings, you can’t help the quiet huff you let out. Unbelievable, you think. Who does he think he is? He’s never liked you since the day you came and you’re not even sure why! Trying to befriend him is useless and acting polite towards him because he’s higher ranked than you gives you headaches. It’s almost too cruel how the irony of your desires is blocked by the single entity that makes your blood boil.
Coming yourself with another hiff, you straighten your back, fingers smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress before you take the tray of tea in your hands. Time to go back to work.
ﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌ
In life, too many complaints won’t get you anywhere—you know at least this much but again, for the umpetenth time, you can’t help the growing feeling of annoyance brewing up inside you whenever you’re called up to do something in ungodly hours.
You’ve never had the best personality behind closed doors, afterall. So you’ll quietly complain whenever it's necessary (in your mind, of course. The risk of being overheard makes you paranoid).
The kitchen of the royal palace is spacious, stretching wide to accommodate the source of all the luxurious meals always prepared during occasions formal or not. It’s located in the further areas of the palace as any kitchen normally so as to make sure the smell of cooking food wouldn't stink up the area too much.
Because of its location, you find yourself walking quite the distance from your chambers and into an already dark kitchen. You can’t turn on the lights pass curfew so a small candle is your company as you prepare to boil water for the tea requested.
The day had been much more hectic than usual. You can’t remember all the details when you’re one of the servants running around the palace to get everything done. It’s preparation for another event. That much you’re sure of but what type you don’t think you really care for the details.
Fatigue and lack of sleep seems to be catching up to you. You find it difficult to keep your eyes open, resorting to pinching your arms to make sure the slight pain can keep you up and about. Too deep in your sense of tiredness, it takes a second for you to realise that the candle you’ve lit is already blown out—the fire from the stove your only source of lighting.
“Wh-? Ahh, shit, shit,” curses flow out of your mouth profusely, hurriedly reaching inside your dress pocket for a lighter. You’re not sure if it’s because of your fatigue, the chilly air, or even because of how dark it is but you’re fumbling with the match box, struggling to even open it in your panicked state.
Just before you could properly light the match, the candle burns again with a new fire; the small flame used to light it aflame disappears with a shake of the hand. You stare unblinkingly at your newly lit candle, and as if slow motion, you trail up the hand near the small fire to find the familiar face of the First Prince’s personal servant.
“Mister.. Viper,” you greet, unsettled by his sudden appearance. You don’t think you even heard him come in let alone get so close to you like this. Were you so out of it that you weren’t able to hear anything…?
“What’re you doing in the kitchen so late at night?” Jamil gets to the point, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head questioningly.
Your mouth opens and closes in response, mind blanking on how you should reply. “Um.. I was requested to make tea for..” Somehow, Jamil is moving closer to you, your vision going blurry before it only fills with the sight of him. “What- what’re you doing?”
Your breath hitches, the small of your back already pressing against the edge of the counter and Jamil places his hands behind you, trapping you between his arms. He leans closer.
“There’s an intruder trying to break into the castle,” he whispers, lips brushing against your ears and your face burns. Jamil does nothing after that. He doesn’t move away, doesn’t speak another word—his lips faintly brushes against your ears each time you breathe, your senses only filled with the warmth of Jamil’s body and how you can smell the strong scent of spices pressed so close to him like this.
“I don’t… Why are you telling me this?” All you can do is question back, lost on what he’s implying ang you tense when feeling his hand settling on your hip, pressing you harder against the counter.
There’s something so… primal and raw in the way Jamil is touching you. His fingers hold your firmly in a soft pressure that if you weren’t so hyper aware of where his hands are, you wouldn’t notice that he’s already touching you.
Jamil moves back enough to look at you, his other hand lifting from the counter to grasp your chin so you’re forced to look at him properly. “I believe that intruder is already inside,” he murmurs and you see something glinting in his eyes. Suddenly, his grip on you tightens, pulling your chin roughly towards him and his voice is firmer, “What’re you doing in the kitchen?”
You feel a sudden anger flaring in your chest. “Are you accusing me, Mister Viper?” You can’t help but spit out, glaring at him openly. “I already told you- I’m making tea.”
Jamil smirks in response, uncaring of your sudden attitude as he lets you go. The male turns off the stove, your protest ignored as he turns to you again, leaning against the table from across you. “On whose orders are you making it for?”
“That’s-” the bite in your throat suddenly disappears. You blink in irritation before an unsettling feeling brews in your stomach. From who.. that’s... Of course it would be from one of the younger children, wouldn’t it..? But for them to stay up this late then.. the First Prince? But that would be Jamil’s responsibility—not yours.
You bite your lip, brows furrowing for a different reason now; confusion. “It was from a note,” your voice is quiet when you say this, gaze darting to the floor to avoid the smug look on the other’s face at your confession. How could you have not realised..?
Jamil takes quick strides over to you and before you know it, he’s turning you around and roughly pushing you down on the counter. You yelp, hands shooting out to soften the impact as Jamil presses his chest over your back. “Aren’t you too trusting… or maybe.. You’re an accomplice of this intruder?”
What.
“That’s- that’s-! Of course not!” You feel the shudder raking down your spine at the low hum Jamil makes from your words. Your face burns with humiliation, tears springing up to your eyes for a reason beyond you; you’re cursing Jamil to hell for all this.
“Why should I trust you? I’ve always found your sudden climb in ranks to be a little odd,” he sighs and the snarky remark you had disappears when you feel something hard pressing against your behind. The outline of Jamil’s growing erection presses against the thin material of your dress, slow languid rolls of his hips makes your body burn.
You’re quiet now; distracted by the way the brunet is rutting against you. Jamil is a difficult person for you to tolerate but you can’t deny how attractive he is. “So quiet suddenly?” And you want to curse the skies why he was given such an attractive voice.
His hold on you eases before there’s no longer any pressure holding you down. You get up slowly, pushing yourself up by the elbows and turning your head to see that Jamil has already moved some distance away from you. The neutral look he normally has is back.
You think your heart might explode. He can’t just- do that and act like nothing happened..! There’s no words you can think of—verbal communication suddenly beyond you. All you can do is clutch at your dress weakly, your pussy feeling so empty and uncomfortably wet.
“I can…” you gulp, voice hoarse and Jamil raises a brow in question. “I can help.. find the real intruder.” Your chest feels so fucking heavy now, the bruning heat in your body clouding all common sense. “To prove my innocence.” You add quickly as an afterthought, because you’re not doing this for him.
A small laugh leaves the latter’s mouth in response and you feel your brow twitch. “You’re a difficult person to deal with.”
Wha..?
Jamil pushes himself off the table, once again trapping you between his arms but you feel much calmer than before. The candle burning as your only source of light seems to emphasise the brunet’s features. Eyes slanted and shaped like a predator stares at you hungrily and feels natural for you to draw closer to him when Jamil leans over. “Always having a smile on your face when you’re clearly annoyed. Why are you so insistent on putting up a mask?”
His breath ghosts over your lips, body pressing close to you as if you weren’t close enough. You look into his eyes; searching for something and smiling when you find it. “Should I say the same to you?”
The simple questions snaps whatever tension you’re in and Jamil crashes his lips to yours, prying your mouth open with his tongue and slithering in when you give him access. His hands wrap around your back, trailing down over your ass and squeezing you with greedy hands.
You moan in response, pulling him closer by wrapping your hands around his neck and rolling your hips against the hard tent in his pants. Jamil groans softly, breaking the kiss to trail kisses down your jaw to your neck. His fingers tug the front of your dress down, the cotton tearing slightly from his rough ministrations but you don’t care about that when his lips reaches the skin above your breasts, marking you with love bites and easing the pain with the slow drag of his tongue.
Much to your disappointment, Jamil doesn’t pull your dress any further down, instead, he’s the one getting on his knees; his hands trailing up your legs and hiking your dress along with it. Your dress settles over your hips, held by his hands as Jamil nudges your legs apart to trail kisses up your inner thigh.
You’re clenching around nothing, small gasps leaving your lips at every mark Jamil leaves with every inch closer to your aching core. “Please,” you can’t help but whine, tangling your hands in his hair. You feel Jamil smirk against your skin.
He pushes your undergarment to the side and your vision goes white from the first slow drag of Jamil’s tongue against your weeping cunt. The taste of you on his tongue makes Jamil feral—harsh strokes of his tongue against your outer lips before his mouth sucks and he’s eating you out like an animal.
You’re struggling to keep your moans in, legs shaking with every suction of Jamil’s mouth on your core, greedily tasting every inch you can offer him. His hold on your thighs are brutal; not allowing you to close your legs. Your dress is no longer held up by his hands and falls over the male’s head, hiding him from view.
You’re biting at your hands to keep your sounds in. It’s already so late at night and despite your location being in the further areas of the palace, if anyone were to walk in the kitchen then the first thing they’ll see is you, writhing and crying from a reason beyond them, Jamil hidden away behind a table and under your dress.
“A- ah-!” The yelp you let out echoes in the kitchen. You’re mortified by the sound but it’s only a second later that you're moaning again. Jamil’s fingers curl once again, dragging against your walls deliciously. His touch is gently, easily finding all the right buttons to push without too much prying as his mouth focuses on your clit.
You whisper his name quietly, the only thing you can think of saying and it seems to spur the brunet to fuck his finger’s into you, easily finding your good spots and you’re coming with a strangled shout.
You don’t get to register how Jamil greedily sucks off your juices, throwing you into the edge of overstimulation before he finally pulls away; pushing your dress over his head. The blood rushes to your face, gaping at the way Jamil swiped his tongue over his lips as if to collect your juices and your squeak when the male suddenly pulls you into a kiss.
When you break away, Jamil is smirking at you handsomely, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Should we get started then?” You nod absentmindedly, blinking at the satisfied smile Jamil gives you. “Then we’ll start with the main entrance. I think that’s most likely where they entered from because of the hectic preparations.”
“What?” You can’t help but ask dumbly.
The laugh Jamil lets out makes you feel both warm and irritated. His eyes narrow when he looks at you but the smile on his face is still present. “I see.. Did you want to continue?” You can’t answer. Jamil smirks.
He takes your wrist and you’re frozen in his stare as Jamil guides your hand to his erection. The hardness in your palm makes your mouth water and thighs clench uselessly as Jamil blinks his eyes slowly. “Don’t worry,” he reassures, pressing your hand harder against his clothed dick and groaning at the pressure. “Should we be able to catch the intruder then I’ll be sure to reward you.”
#jamil viper#scarabia#jamil x reader#twst x reader#twst n/sfw#twst scenarios#twst imagines#twisted wonderland#f!reader#specially brewed
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A Shadow’s Light
Min Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Fae AU ♕ Monarch Yoongi ♕ Fantasy AU ♕ CEO Yoongi ♕ Soulmate AU
Summary: The approaching solstice reminds Yoongi that his time for remaining Monarch without a kindred soul is running out. As each day goes by, the shadows around him become more unruly, and his emotions become harder to control. Even as his right hand, he’d never considered you as someone to court, not until he realized your light could tame the shadows. Oh, but your light brought more than that, it brought a burn that had desire curling deep within him. A desire that he won’t allow to slip away.
Word Count: 4,130
Rating/Warnings: M for Mature (+18); Monarch Yoongi; Confidant Reader; Female Reader; CEO Yoongi; Slightly Dom Yoongi(?); Office Sex; Unprotected Sex (wrap the schlong before you sit on the dong); Oral (f receiving); Fingering; Multiple Orgasms; Overstimulation; Bottom Yoongi; Top Reader; Squirting
Author’s Note: I’ve dreamed of this Yoongi quite a few times over the last few years, and so I finally decided to write it. Albeit, this is a completely shorter version than the original one I started years ago, but I think it’s fine as I ease my way back into the writing scene. Thank you so much to @dee-ehn for the amazingly beautiful banner; it’s absolutely stunning! Hope you guys like it 😊
The feel of cold paper against his fingertips is almost a welcomed reprieve compared to the monotonous drone of the head of marketing, an older man with a pinch in between his eyebrows and a smug expression. Yoongi’s mind is filled with a million other incessant thoughts, ones that are far more pressing than the steps on appealing to the board of directors.
For one, the solstice was tomorrow, and the primal hunger for a kindred soul to be at his side was becoming even more difficult to deny. He knew if he was unable to find someone this year, the Elders would begin to question whether he truly should be the Monarch for their kind. His kind. Just the notion has his wings twitching in anger before it is dwindling to a burning frustration, his fingers reflexively crumpling the edges of the paper he held.
“Sir?”
He turns merely a centimeter towards you, his eyes forcefully focusing as they make contact with your own. You seem almost taken aback by his gaze, your lips having parted and your eyes wide. He must not have realized how hard his expression had been, but he quickly softens it, a rumble of an apology carrying its way to your ears only. Your gentle eyes turn sympathetic, your mouth curling up to show a bright smile, and it almost blinds him.
It was no secret within the world of Fae that he was the first shadow chosen as Monarch, much to his surprising dismay. It was not so much a surprise that he was chosen per se, as he had been groomed for it during most of his childhood, but it was the fact that he was groomed at all that surprised him. Even as Monarch, the Fae were wary of those ‘cursed’ by the shadow. It was not only uncommon amongst their kind, but it was also dangerous if not controlled properly, and it could rarely be controlled. Before his ruling, parents would often tell stories of shadow monarchs who grew out of control, their shadow swallowing the settlement whole.
Whether parents continue to tell their children such stories is lost on him, as he very rarely is included in conversation when the settlement gets together. He wouldn’t be surprised though, as he, too, worried for the safety of everyone around him.
You on the other hand, he was the least worried about. You were the complete opposite of him, as you were blessed with the light. A rare gift. It was always said that the light could tame the shadows, but he only feared you would make his grow, like how an increase in light source could cast a stronger shadow of a human figure. Especially if it got too close.
But regardless, you were also groomed similarly to himself as a child, so that you would be by his side. A loyal….assistant….if he had to title it. You were his confidant, his right hand man (or technically woman), so to speak. The Elders had thought it wise to have you close to him, and while the thought had initially made him uncomfortable - the shadows around him twitching in disgust at the light you brought - he had grown fond of your company within the last several years. The shadows around him had ceased their fury long ago when you were near, and he was grateful for at least that respite.
“It’s quite alright, sir,” you carry on, oblivious to his internal torment. “Would you like me to escort you out of here?”
He can’t help the twitch of his lips, an eyebrow raising as he allows his body to turn towards you, his chair barely squeaking at the action. He watches the way your cheeks flushed at his stare, your eyes casting down to your lap as your fingers fiddle with non-existent lint. His eyes roam to your wings, watching how the beautiful white seems to shimmer as they fluttered slightly. He knew he could fluster you - he often found it entertaining - and quite frankly he also found it adorable. The shadows around him groan.
With a tsk, his lips twitch down, and you immediately sense his shift in emotion. You were so perceptive to him, and yet still so obliviously unaware of how his shadows reacted when you shined so bright. In those moments it was very painful, and while he could usually muster through the pain, he found that it was actually difficult for him in that second.
Fear zings through his body as his shadows laugh, their forms swiftly quivering in excitement at the thought that he wouldn’t be able to stop them, that he wouldn’t be able to prevent them from consuming what was around him. His body becomes rigid, his eyes closing as he works to compose his emotions, his mind fighting with itself as his heart thuds within his ears. He can faintly hear you calling out to him, but he is too busy focused on his task.
A sharp sting envelops his hand, and his eyes snap open to find your own hand against his, the shadows retreating to the furthest recesses opposite of your shine, and his heart stutters. Never have the shadows withdrawn so quickly, no matter how many lessons the Elder’s had given him, he has never been able to control them. Not to say they are controlled per se, because he knew they could never be controlled, but they were tamed for the moment. Your hand continues to burn against his, and he slowly pulls back from your touch, his eyes meeting yours once again.
A small nod of his head is all you need, your body instantly moving as you announce their departure, your figure guiding him back towards his office. His eyes never waver from your wings, watching how they are so delicately beautiful and white, a complete contrast to his sharp black wings. Your wings were round, many swirls intricately woven in various degrees of white, sparkling no matter what time of day. While his wings were sharp edged, and of the deepest of blacks, a color that portrayed an endless void. He’d been told, more often than not, that his wings seemed invisible if he flew around the city at night. It didn’t just stop there though, as the shadows also allowed him to blend in to the darkest corners, keeping him out of sight if he wanted.
He was such a contrast to you, not just in wing shape and color. It was normal for women’s wings to be larger than men’s, just like a female bird was larger than a male, but your wing size complimented you so well. Everything about you and your gift suited you. Your gift gave you the ability to travel at the speed of light, not that he’d ever seen you use it. He supposed there hadn’t exactly been any reason to use it, so of course he wouldn’t have seen you. Or maybe he hadn’t seen you because you were simply too quick for him to catch, he wasn’t entirely sure. He made a mental note to ask you one day.
“Would you like me to clear the rest of your day, sir?” you ask, watching him as he moves around his desk to his chair, your eyes wide with concern.
“Yes, please,” he murmurs, his eyes closing as you rattle off into your phone for all of his meetings to be cancelled.
The shadows are still in the corner of his mind, having shifted so they were completely opposite of your presence. Yoongi’s heart races with the speeds of a thousand mustangs, the beat traveling up his neck and into his ears, and he isn’t sure what to do. You had stopped the darkness, which had seemed to be even more out of control lately, but you had done it. His eyes can’t help but open to stare at you, your body now resting on the chair across his desk, completely oblivious to his gaze as you scroll through your phone.
With a simple command, he orders the shadows to close his office door and lock it, and he watches as they are quick to avert your presence and complete his task. He wonders if they fear the torture of the light again, and whether that is why they are so compliant. Nevertheless, he has an image in his mind that couldn’t be wiped, and that image was you. In all his years of life he had not looked at you in any way more than a friend, a confidant...until today.
He smirks at the way your body jumps, your head turning to see the office door closed before your gaze whips back around to look at him. He knew how you felt about him, because while he was quiet for the most part, you were like an open book. Your emotions were as plain on your eyes as your heart was on your sleeve, open and bared for him. You didn’t cower from your feelings towards him, but you also weren’t jealousy possessive when the Elders ordered him on many courtships with other women. No...you stayed by his side and supported him, even as each of them failed to subdue his darkest demons.
Slinking from his spot, he slowly makes his way around the desk, stopping until he has leaned against it in front of you. Your body instinctively shifts back against your chair as your gaze lowers, though he knows this was out of respect as the Monarch, he doesn’t want you to pull further away from him. His hand still burned at your contact, and a deep part of him begged to feel it again, begged to feel the pain.
“Stand up,” he orders, and watches with satisfaction as you instantly comply, your body a mere few inches from his.
The shadows quiver at the proximity, which only brings a shaky breath from his lips, his hand reaching forward until the tips of his fingers graze your cheek. Your eyes rise to meet his, confusion trying to mask the culmination of fear and desire he knew you felt, but the words of your open book practically scream at him. Beg him.
In one swift movement his hand grips the back of your neck, his fingers burning, but he doesn’t care as his lips meet yours. And oh, how soft your lips were against his, it had to be a crime. He had been with sparingly few people in his life, but nothing compared to how you felt against him, how your light seared him in magnificent ways. A moan escapes from your velvety lips and it can only be accompanied by the groan from his own as he shifts his head, taking advantage of the new angle to slip his tongue into your mouth.
Oh, had he known how compliant you would be under his touch, he would have tried this ages ago. So soft and supple, yet you burn hotter than a thousand suns as the shadows practically whimper at the onslaught, yet the pain was quickly becoming something he relished. Something he needed. An addiction that he wasn’t sure he would be able to fulfill. Your pretty moans only further the tingles in his body, their assault almost unnecessary since his pulsing cock was tightly confined to his work slacks, but it only furthered his need for you.
Pulling back swiftly, he practically melts at the whine that escapes from you, your gaze hazy as you stare at him in a mixture of confusion and disappointment. It almost makes him lose it. Almost.
“Please tell me you want this,” he states, his breathing heavy as his chest heaves to allow more air in, but it seems almost futile.
Your face contorts into an expression he can’t seem to understand until it shifts into understanding, a soft smile falling on your lips. Your hand comes up, cupping his cheek and his heart jumps at the contact, the burn intensifying. Your eyes silently consent, but he wants to hear you say it. No…he needs to hear you say it, and he can see it in your eyes that you know that.
“I want this,” you whisper, and that’s all he needs.
The room envelopes in a darkness like no other, the pure desperation in your eyes as he swiftly swipes his hand across his desk, items clattering onto the floor. You squeal in a mixture of delight and surprise as he unexpectedly throws you onto the now cleared desk, the chill of the wood bringing goosebumps onto your skin, and he doesn’t miss it. No, he sees you so clearly, it is as if all the noise in the world has cleared away to provide the perfect picture that is you. He can’t keep calm as your back arches, your chest practically begging for him to come closer, to ravage you.
Reaching forward with trembling hands, his fingers deftly unbutton your blouse, his eyebrows rising when he’s met with the most complimentary color of silk that cups your breasts. Your skin is illuminated with a flush as he continues to stare, his moves slow and methodical, and he takes note of the clench of your thighs as you attempt to relieve the pressure. He doesn’t speed up in his ministrations though, slowing even more as he allows his fingertips to trace from your neck down to your hips, stopping right above the barrier of your tight pencil skirt. He relishes in the way you quiver as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of the skirt, finding the clasp and button with ease and opening it before you can even comprehend what’s happening.
He thanks the Heavens that you hadn’t chosen to wear pantyhose this day, because he would feel guilty having to tear them off your body. Well...only slightly guilty. He can’t continue the thought process though, because a deep groan is pouring from his lips at the sight of your matching underwear, his cock now at full attention and already weeping through his pants. His teeth grips at his lower lip as he forces his body to remain at a glacial pace, but with every second that passes, he’s finding it utterly difficult. Your panting did nothing to calm him, your breaths coming quick as your blown out pupils stare at his hands, your tongue coming out to moisten your reddened lips.
Oh he needed something on his mouth, and he needed something on them now. Discarding your skirt to some unknown spot across the room, his hands grip right behind your knees, fingers tightening so he can forcefully spread your legs. He can feel the muscles in your legs resist as you try to snap them together again, but he doesn’t allow it, his Adam's apple bobbing at the sight of you. So pretty, so beautifully created, and the burn against his hands strengthens. Grunting at the pain, he is practically salivating as it mixes with the pleasure, the shadows quivering around him, but they remain compliant.
And you remain compliant, too, your wide eyes moving to meet his own. A smirk claims the corners of his lips before he leans forward, allowing his hot breath to seep through your underwear. Your legs are trembling within his grip, and you try with all your might to bring his mouth closer to where you want it. Where he knew you needed it. And he is content on giving it to you. Moving his hands from their spot, he uses the angle to spread your legs further apart, his hands coming to your hips. The cry of pleasure that escapes your mouth is pure bliss, your body clearly stiff with shock at the sudden action of his fingers having pushed your underwear to the side so that they could flick your clit.
Yoongi’s mouth salivates at the sight of your entrance, completely wet and dripping. He wants to ask if it’s because of him, but his body is working faster than his mind. His mouth begins to suck at your juices, his nose bumping into your clit and you jump, his hands swiftly moving to hold your hips down. Oh how sweet you were. Like the sweetest of treats, but a rapidly addicting taste that he isn’t sure he can stop. He is sure you don’t want him to stop either, considering how your hand has desperately moved to his hair, fingers gripping at his locks. You tug when he purposely licks your nub, a mumbled whine of his name falling from your lips, and he can’t help but groan.
With all thoughts of a glacial pace flying from his thoughts, he allows himself the pleasure of wrapping his lips around your clit, alternating between sucking and licking in hopes he could hear you call his name once more. At least once more.
Oh but he doesn’t have to wait for long, his name practically pours from your lips in rapid succession as he continues his actions, the tremble in your legs intensifying. Shifting in his spot, he blocks your leg with his shoulder so that he can free a hand, the tips of his fingers promptly prodding at your entrance. Earning an anguished whine from you as he leans away from your pretty pussy, his heart thrums at the way your eyes roll back when he shoves a finger inside of you, quickly following it up with another.
There isn’t much he is proud of, but his fingers are one of them. He doesn’t miss the way your back instantly bows off the desk when he curls them and finds your sweet spot.
“Y-yoongi,” you cry out, beginning a new song of his name with explicit curses that sound so sinfully sweet, his jaw is aching.
Desperate to see how quick he could get you off on his fingers, he leans forward again to provide unabated licks to your clit. The light behind his eyes is almost blinding as your bodies remain connected, the shadows sticking to the far walls away from your shine, but quaking at the pleasure they feel through him. He wasn’t even undressed, and he felt as if he could cum on the spot, just on the feel of you against him. Of the mix of pleasure and pain as he refuses to lose any form of contact with you. And you must have felt the same, because you basically wail your impending orgasm a mere second before it comes crashing.
But he can’t stop. He doesn’t want to stop. He continues sucking at you and savors the battle your body has, conflicted on whether you should withdraw from the overstimulation, or stay under his tongue as the pain rolls into renewed pleasure. All Yoongi can think about is pleasing you, devouring you in every way he can because this is nothing he has ever felt before.
Your grip in his hair tightens painfully, and he moans at the way you try to stop him. Finally caving in to your demands, he pulls back from your clit and looks you in the eyes, a growl tearing from his chest at the look on your face. You had to be as far gone as he, possibly further gone considering your pupils had practically consumed the iris, your wings spread taut across the desk. His own wings twitch at the sight, and it only takes him a mere five seconds to pull his clothes off and throw them across the room with yours.
Five seconds seem like too much to him, and possibly to you too, because you are standing in front of him by the time he finishes. You have managed to remove your bra and panties on your ascent, your hands coming forward to grab his shoulders, a flash of your wings switching your positions. His vision all but careens at the intensely quick motion, unable to keep up with the change as the room spins. When his eyes are finally able to focus, you have him lying against the desk, scrambling to climb on top of him.
His cock twitches at your juices dripping onto him, each drop tingling against his skin until your flesh makes contact with his once again, the sheer pleasure of pain zinging through him. Reaching forward, his hands grab hold of your hips, desperate to bring your entrance against his member. Your mind seems to be in sync with his, as your hand shoots down to grip his cock, bringing his head to your dripping core. He growls at the onslaught, his thighs tensing for fear that he would lose if before he could get himself in you.
You waste no time in letting his thick cock slide in, your neck becoming exposed as you throw your head back, a cry echoing in the office. The shadow’s tighten their position, absorbing your moans as you beg him to release his grip on your hips, desperate to move so as to allow the tip of his dick to rub over your spot. But his grip is ruthless, the onslaught of pleasure and pain putting him at the edge, and he was not going to lose it now.
Tears are trailing down your cheeks as you meet his gaze, your eyes widening as you observe the slithering shadows wrapping around his neck, quivering in hopes he would lose control in this moment of fragility. Your hands move towards the shadows, the tips of your fingers connecting with the skin at his neck as they retreat, the thrum of his pulse accelerating beneath your fingertips. All control flees from him as his hands grab yours, your fingers intertwining before he thrusts, a silent command to move.
Oh, how you felt above him. Pure bliss. Your hips snap as you grind against his cock, your back arching as you try and move faster. He can feel the shake of your thighs, the shivers as goosebumps travel down your body, turning your nipples into hardened nubs. He lifts himself slightly to take one of those buds into his mouth, groaning against your skin as you practically cry his name. A constant tune of his name on your lips, collective curses intertwining between your bodies as your grip on his hands tighten.
He forces his eyes to remain open, unwilling to lose contact with your body above his, his eyes flitting to all parts of you. He never wanted to forget how beautiful you look above him, how well you balance him as your skin made his burn in all the best ways. Your walls tighten around him, signaling your fast approaching release, and your cries of pleasure grow in volume. Digging his feet into the desk, he lifts his lower half in hopes it will give you more leverage against him, but it was also his desperate way to be closer to you in all the ways he could be.
Your back curves as you halt above him, your walls spasming against him as your juices gush out, the push of your orgasm almost causing him to slip out. He grits his teeth as he forces himself to stay inside of you, his grip unmerciful as you continue to squirt on his cock, soaking his lower abdomen.
Desperation consumes his body as he watches you unravel above him, and his grip on your fingers release, his hands moving to your hips as he adjusts his stance. He revels at your cry of surprise when he begins to slam himself up into you, your chest coming forward to rest against his own, changing the angle in which he enters you. Your lips rest against the thick vein in his neck, your teeth nibbling at his skin as your hands run up his arms before slipping through his hair. If the pain was intense before, his body was practically aflame as your fingers grip at his hair, your walls remaining clenched around him. His thigh muscles scream as he chases his high, frantically speeding up further when he feels the end near. His wings twitch, pitching forward as they comfortably make contact with yours, the bond of a thousand lifetimes pushing him over the edge.
It takes him a moment to realize you’re both in the air, his wings having carried you both off the desk, and you both softly float back towards it. You remain on top of him, your eyes searching his own as your wings stay connected, cocooning your bodies as the bond is finalized.
“I found you,” he whispers.
A small smile claims your lips as you stare back at him, his heart swelling at your reply.
“I found you.”
#Bts#Bts smut#Bts Yoongi#Min Yoongi#Yoongi#Yoongi smut#Min Yoongi smut#Yoongi x Reader#Fae Yoongi#Monarch Yoongi#CEO Yoongi#Fae Reader#A Shadow's Light#btscreatorscorner#bangtanhq#ficswithluv
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(Album Review) Sticker by NCT 127 – Did It Really Stick?
Just last week, South Korean group NCT 127 – numbers referring to the longitude coordinate of Seoul – released their long-awaited, third full-length album, Sticker, which immediately caused an uproar among their fans. Some really loved it, while some really hated it (and were not silent about it). It’s the so-called ‘third album syndrome’, where artists create a record that is so new even for them, that it ends up being polarizing for the fanbase. Sticker might have been just that for 127, as fans are either calling it a masterpiece or a huge disappointment – no in-between.
(Those who are already familiar with NCT 127 may skip the following section. Those who are not – buckle up!)
A beginner’s guide to NCT
For those who may not know, NCT (short for “Neo Culture Technology”) is a boy-group under SM Entertainment. The band has been able to stand out from the KPOP landscape since its very debut, and not only because of their music and talents, but also thanks to their distinctive concept. In a nutshell, the idea is that the group can have an unlimited (or infinite) number of members, as fresh new boys can be added to the lineup at any given time. So far, they have accumulated 23 members, divided into four different subunits – NCT 127, NCT DREAM, WayV (fixed units), and NCT U (rotational unit).
Each subgroup has its own characteristic sound and/or concept, but there is one thing they have in common – they are all known for going against the current, be it musically or style-wise. In fact, they are considered the pioneers of the takeover on KPOP by ‘noise music’. But what is noise music? Sometimes affectionately called ‘pots and pans’, it is a genre characterized by an expressive use of sound that is not bound to traditional music rules, and encapsulates different chords and types of notes within a song. Nowadays, it has become the main style of the 4th Generation, and NCT were the ones who truly popularized it to the current audience (despite being 3rd Gen).
NCT 127’s approach to noise music is particularly fascinating. Fans describe their sound as ‘NEO’, which is confusing and vague unless you are familiar with their discography – then it makes perfect sense! The group always takes noise music to the next level, yet manages to not make it sound completely nonsensical and (too) migraine-inducing.
Now that you are all up to speed, we can proceed with the actual review!
Sticker – peeling the songs off
After weeks of teasers and hints, NCT 127 finally unveiled to their eager, hungry fans their new single and album, Sticker. This record perfectly encapsulates the cornucopia of sounds that the band is known for, as the songs go from EDM to hip-hop to heart-warming ballads. And of course, the group’s signature sound – the pots and pans are here, louder and stronger than ever. But enough chit-chat for now – let’s go through the album together.
Sticker (8.5/10)
NCT 127 made the bold choice to open the record with the title track, Sticker. Why ‘bold choice’? Well, let’s just say the song is not exactly easily digestible… The melody is a plethora of sounds, yet feels almost empty and subdued to the vocals at the same time. It is a bacchanal of frenzied beats and a dirty bass line accompanied by a shrill flute and piano, with cut-throat raps and beautiful harmonies that are disjointed from the overall melody. Sticker is chaos, but an intentional one, thus its instability manages to captivate you whilst disarming you.
Truth be told, I was a bit taken aback by the song when I first listened to it. Nothing appeared to make sense to my ears, as they seem to be fighting with the beat (and losing) throughout the entire track. But that’s exactly the point. The disconnection between the instrumentals and the singing is clearly done on purpose, perhaps in order to further highlight the members’ impressive vocals, which overpower and outbalance the otherwise empty beat. Or maybe the purpose was just to render the song more impactful, which sure as hell worked – you may not like Sticker, but the song is likely to remain stuck in your head one way or another.
Lemonade (8.3/10)
The second track was teased by the group prior to the official release of the album with a track video, and was immediately loved by fans. This catchy B-side includes an addictive deep bass which makes the perfect beat for both powerful raps and hefty vocals, a signature cocktail in NCT music.
The song is so good that a puzzling question immediately erupted following the release of the record, and spread like wildfire within 127’s fanbase – why wasn’t ‘Lemonade’ the title track? After all, everyone likes it, both fans and non-fans, and it could easily be something you’d expect to find at the top of the charts. In contrast to Sticker, on which everybody seems to be divided. So, wouldn’t it make sense for it to be the title track, given its striking popular appeal?
The answer is no. What some fans don’t seem to understand is that when it comes down to KPOP title tracks (especially nowadays), the issue is not whether it is the best or the catchiest song on the record. The real question is, does it make an impact? Given how new KPOP groups are popping up left and right, managing to leave enough of an impression on the listeners can make or break a career. The title track needs to be instantly stuck in your mind, and for that Sticker fits the bill, as Lemonade sounds just like any other song you could hear in the first 30 minutes of Inkigayo. It’s good, but ordinary. It just doesn’t cut it, and NCT 127 clearly know that.
Breakfast (8/10)
Third song on the record, Breakfast feels reminiscent of past SM boy groups’ releases, namely SHINee’s song Prism from the album 1 and 1. The song encompasses bright melodies and retro beats with a modernized twist, which serve as a perfect mix with the members’ voices. The song’s main stars are the vocalists (particularly HAECHAN, whose tone works wonders with the genre), while the raps are tamer for the group’s standard.
Focus (9/10)
The fourth track is a mid-tempo R&B romantic song, a genre that is characteristic of 127’s B-sides and displays the group’s more soulful edge. Focus flawlessly showcases the members’ honeyed and warm vocals (especially JAEHYUN’s), and the slow lazy-like raps remind of early 2000’s sultry slow jams. This track was an immediate fan-favorite (as attested by yours truly).
The Rainy Night (9.5/10)
The Rainy Night is an R&B-tinged ballad reminiscent of boybands in the 90’s, and is the perfect follow-up to Focus, as vocals appear to be the true protagonists of both songs. In the track, TAEIL manages to stand out in particular by showing off his impressive range, with his beautiful adlibs on the suit-and-tie beat.
Far (6.2/10)
Next up is Far, characterized by a boom-clap drumline and a chanted chorus. Despite being rather forgettable, it is a good song after all – something straight out of a superhero movie soundtrack. It just sounds like something we’ve heard before at least a million times from about any KPOP boy group out there.
Bring The Noize (6.6/10)
Bring The Noize is about as NEO as it can get, with loud and thunderous beats, growling raps and sounds mimicking a car engine, which together make you feel as if your head were in a blender. Just like Sticker, this song is pure chaos, but of an overwhelming and impetuous kind because of its packed production. Yet, I think that’s where it all goes sideways – Bring The Noize is just too overwhelming, because it’s too crowded. On top of the production overflowing with sounds and effects, the vocal aspect of the song is simply too much. All members sing or rap on the track, but the variety of vocal colors is disarming and confusing to the ears in the worst way. Simply put, some members could have stayed silent in that recording booth…
Magic Carpet Ride (6.4/10)
Doing a full 180 from the previous track, Magic Carpet Ride is a ballad with pop elements, and a melodic beat that particularly shows off DOYOUNG and JAEHYUN’s vocals. Despite being a lovely song, it’s nothing particularly exceptional – it’s good for what it is, but it falls slightly flat and forgettable. Nevertheless, it does a wonderful job in proving that not every KPOP song needs a rap part…
Road Trip (7.3/10)
Road Trip shows off 127’s more boyish and bright side, with nice layers of guitar, drums and delicate vocals, proving once again how the band’s is not just a loud gimmick. The song is enjoyable – however, it’s not something we haven’t heard before from NCT. It’s sweet and lovely, but it’s definitely nothing to write home about.
Dreamer (7.4/10)
This upbeat song gives yet another sweet and poppy feel to the tracklist, with retro beats, trumpet riffs and a happy-go-lucky melody. Dreamer kinda sounds like something out of an Old Navy commercial, but I mean it in a good way – its funky, childlike charm combined with the uplifting lyrics is likely to put a smile on your face!
Promise You (7.2/10)
127 chose to end the album with a letter dedicated to their fanbase, NCTzens. Due to the ongoing pandemic, groups have not been able to meet fans in a long time as they normally would. In Promise You they sing about being separated from a loved one and then being reunited again, which is likely a nod towards their fans. Musically, the song intertwines retro-inspired beats with atmospheric synths, that give it a dreamy-like appeal. The track is sweet and serves as a great album closer, as wrapping up the record with DOYOUNG singing “So stay” in a longing yet reassuring tone, feels like the perfect goodbye.
So, did it stick?
Overall, Sticker is a very well-made album – it has ballads, upbeat tracks, addictive songs, and a decent dose of the good ol’ pots and pans. Does it sound like something we have never heard before in KPOP? No! Does it sound like something we’ve never heard before from NCT? Also… No… But whilst the record follows a similar algorithm to 127’s past albums, it is still incredibly enjoyable without sounding boring or too déjà vu. It has a good 50/50 mix of experimental songs to ballads and R&B-influenced tracks, and it leaves room for both rappers and vocalists to shine.
The album truly screams ‘NCT 127’ – it’s experimental, not sonically cohesive, confusing, and a little weird. Plus, just like all of the group’s music, it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. Or better yet, it’s not at first listen. Sticker might be odd and disarming, but it will get to you eventually – you just gotta let it stick.
8/10
#i had MANY things to say <3#i hope someone liked it ^_^#btw this has not been through the editor yet <3 hope it's good :D#soph.txt
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The Dream of a Normal Life
by @cornytyrannosaurus
The fresh breeze of the Norwest lands scurred between the mountains, between the hills, beneath the trees, until it reached the nostrils of a young man inside a van which was stationed atop a hillside.
He breathed deep, filling his tired lungs with the soft breeze and all the scents it brought from every corner of the undying forest. His always hurried mind took this moment of serenity to fuel itself back to be awake, he already processing within his blurred thoughts all the duties of the day.
Mile 82, 54. Mile 21, 12 up to date. We go downhill until…
Then he opened his eyes, and the list stopped. He saw her, gently snoring in her sleep, her hands improvising a pillow. He smiled, recalling how annoying she could get when her hands felt sore; but what to do about it? She looked just too adorable right now to be awoken just for the sake of a mere slumbering formality. Her neon-stained, raggedy hair fitted with her purple sleeveless shirt, the only piece of cloth she was wearing in her sleep. He rolled his eyes down to her nude legs, remembering with heated fondness how much he made her to feel loved last night. Maybe he should put the blanket over such gorgeous sight, he thought. Unfortunate, but necessary.
Heavily, he put the brown blanket over her underside, to stop at her slightly inflated belly. His eyebrows dropped, reminding the main why of her needing to feel loved last night. She was having one of those delicate hormonal moments, a thing he took years to get accustomed and now was proving itself really useful during these uncertain times.
Uncertain, never better though.
He gave a quick kiss on her forehead, rolled his body around in search of his clothes, and hurriedly put his pants on.
He opened the backdoors, sat at the edge of the white van they lived in now, and took a long look at the immediate surroundings.
The gigantic mountains came across his sight like an unfathomable Leviathan welcoming his life with its majestic shape. Around him and all across the hillside, countless trees of all shapes and sizes covered the outline of horizon like a fortress for their tiny kingdom of intimacy and solitude. What he could give for them to have a tiny home where to start a family at a place like this, he could not tell but was certain in it.
Then he heard the growls coming from the trees, and he recalled they were just passing by.
A couple of man-sized hoofed monstrosities ran wild from between the depths of the forest, galloping over the concrete and disappearing behind another line of old pine trees. Their countless mouths filled with human-like crooked teeth, placed all across their headless, dark furry bodies, screeched continuously as they waved their long rat-like black tails at the fresh airs of the of morning.
Aaaaaaw f*ck.
Tagging eldritch creatures in a national park wasn’t precisely his dream job, but was quite within the spectrum of skills of the Mystery Twins, and as these non-euclidean beasts began to reproduce, they found themselves at a chance of getting a good source of income at the aftermath of events he didn’t want to remember right now.
If only his mind could listen to him to stop rerunning the horrible memory of that day.
Before sorrow had the chance to overtake his heart, he felt the warm of a pair of arms circling his tummy, a pair of legs caressing his, and a slightly inflated belly gently pressing his back. He smiled in relief; he hadn’t figured yet how she was able to slip across surfaces.
“Good morning, Dipdop” she murmured in his ear with seductive tone.
“’Morning, Mabes” he said back, turning his head to kiss her cheek, and then her lips, to go back to look at the hill.
“Why are yah awake so early? I wanted to spoon yah” She asked, squishing his belly with her arms”
“Dunno, just… wanted to start earlier today” He said with slow content.
“Before breakfast? You gotta be kiddin’ me” she said with pretended anger.
“You’ll never let me to skip it, will you?” He mustered with a grin.
“Nope, I won’t” She asserted. “Besides…” she said, as she squished her legs around his.
“Besides?”
“I’m still just in my shirt” she whispered at his ear. His grin grew bigger, as his sister slipped back from where she came and he rolled around to follow her.
“But what about the breakfast?” He asked with fake indignation.
“First this breakfast, then food breakfast”
“Mhmm, I like the plan…” He said as he closed the van’s door behind him.
It wasn’t the most conventional form of Love, nor the beginning of a normal life. But it was theirs to live , and they loved it anyway.
At least there, away from the unsuspecting and prejudiced eyes of the world, they were free.
If only the world could know the pain it could cause.
- Six months ago…
Mabel Pines had endured many terrifying moments in her life. When Dipper broke his leg at their kickboxing practice, when she was at the hands of a gigantic childish mechanoid, when her brother was about to be devoured by a living corpse, when she was about to be erased from existence by a extradimensional pyramid god, when she got lost in that trip to the unknown… but these immediate moments were heaving in her stomach more than any of that. Maybe it was because those moments were a little far in her memory, or because her resistance to cringe was absolutely superior to her brother’s. Or maybe it was because this time, the impending threat came from within her very own family.
And now she was frozen in place inside the van, watching how Dipper stood over the grass of the family home, his forehead bleeding and his face turning to their parents, his shape contrasted between the darkness of the night and the porch’s lamp.
Maybe they weren’t as angry and freaked out as they were an hour ago, but their resolution wasn’t something they were willing to accept. Right now, Mason “Dipper” Pines was standing against the destruction of his incoming family.
“Dipper, please… be reasonable. There is no way out of this” His father reassured, trying to appeal to his intellect, trying to undo the damage of the wound he had done to his own son. But Dipper had already cried, so the wound would stay a long time.
“No” Dipper pronounced in crackly voice.
His mother approached to him a couple of steps more, heartbroken for the glance of their own children at them. “Dipper, you’re not in your right mind, you don’t-”
“No, Mom!” Dipper yelled high. “We-we tried, we really really tried. But it didn’t matter how much we tried, how much we were honest with you. You didn’t listen, and you are still not listening. You look at us like if we were just a couple of f*cking monsters!”
“Dipper… You won’t be able to live a normal life with Mabel” His father told with serious tune. Again, they weren’t listening; again, they were mistaking their love for another crooked urge they needed to repress to have fulfilling lives. If only they knew.
“Well.. maybe we don’t want one!” Dipper finally shouted, turning around to walk aimlessly to his van.
Their parents only watched impotent how their beloved children drove away from home, and away from their lives…
“Mhm… so… I’ll want a French-Fry-Fantasy and a Slurpy Surprise” the young woman finally chose her meal options from between the short menu in the grease-stained paper sheet. It was kind of her personal politics about road restaurants to “choose the weirdest dishes in the menu or don’t say yourself worthy of a road trip”. The waitress with curly black hair and more freckles than space in the face to have them, could read for her bun hairstyle, her capri pants and her lots of laces and bracelets on her arms, that she was the extroverted and adventurous of them.
“I’ll want a pancake plate and a coffee, thanks” the man said instead. Judging by the old flannel coat and his black pants, he was the quiet one. The young waitress tried not to smile too much at the enormous contrast between their breakfast options, pondering in her mind how so alike persons could have such starkly different personalities. Anyhow, they made such a lovely couple, one of those who brighten the day of a service worker doomed to attend uncourteous people the rest of the day just like she was.
“Oh right, so a coffee cup, a Slurpy Surprise, a pancake plate and a French-Fry-Fantasy” The waitress repeated as the couple at the table nodded in agreement. “Ok, your order will be done in 10; anything else?”
“Nope, that’s all; thanks” he answered with kind tone.
“Okie dokie” The waitress said. “Oh! And congrats for your baby!” The waitress said before to leave.
“Owww thank you so much!” she said in joyful tune, making the waitress to enlarge her smile as she left to attend the order.
The young woman turned her attention back to her brother, moving over her seat with impatient joy. It was one of those days where the world seemed that friendly at them; after an inconceivable quantity of bad days in between, both had learned to appreciate them.
“Gosh I’m so hungry!” she exclaimed, enthusiastic at the edge of childishness.
“Yeaaah I kinda doubt ten minutes will be enough for your order” he asserted, resting his elbows on the table, looking out the window for a moment.
“Ooh, hush you there, bro-man! Have a little of faith in these peoples; they’re experts!” she dismissed.
“Experts in road restaurant dishes?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Yep, I’m sure they attend to a special college for restaurant workers and stuff” she said with erudite-like pride.
“I did!” the old cook behind the bar yelled at their table with a stoic smile, raising his spatula. Maybe they were talking too high for a public place, but as they were currently the only customers it did not seem like it mattered at first. He usually would beg for her to slow down a little, due to the obvious need for them to conceal their true identities, but given the events of last night, he was simply happy to see her so free and being herself.
“You see? Road restaurant experts” She finally asserted as she raised her arms in a gesture of obviousness.
“Ok, I’ll eat my words along my pancakes” Dipper commented with an ironical smile.
“Yes you will, you will” She asserted, bopping his nose with the tip of her finger. Suddenly, she got aware the sorrow behind her brother’s eyes, and she worried. “What’s up, Dip?”
He paused for a couple of seconds in which his always hurried mind deliberated. She didn’t like unnecessary dramas, but she also liked him to be honest, as they had committed themselves to be. So after that instant that felt eternal, he spoke.
“Dunno, kinda… I know you’ll just tell me it was some kind of hormone rush or whatever but… I really…”
“Hey, it’s ok, Dip” she interrupted him, taking his hands with hers over the table. “I guess I was just… scared about the call Mom and Dad made and…”. For a moment, she thought she could express better by enacting, so she leaned across the space between them to rob him a deep kiss, to just after returning to her seat. “I want this, Dipper. I want all of this” She said, her eyes getting moisty.
“We’re just that crazy, aren’t we?” he asked with a moved smile. She was that fantastic and brave he couldn’t contain his love for her.
“And I couldn’t be happier for it” She asserted. He raised his hand to caress her cheek. Maybe it was the magical pregnacy hormones he had heard about in documentaries, or the strange and unnamed dimensions of their mutual love reacting again for a full catharsis potential, but she looked especially beautiful this morning, and (as energetically as he showed how much he loved her earlier at the van) she deserved to feel it. “To heck with a normal life” she cited from him as both just stared each other until the dishes were ready.
- Six months ago…
Dipper was quiet, as he had been all the way the long long time of driving lasted until the gas ran out near San Francisco Bay. He hadn’t said a word, nor even tried to clean his face of the blood; anyone with no idea of what really happened could have thought he was just coming out from a horror scene.
The unnerving silence was the exact kind Mabel recognized perfectly; she knew exactly what he was thinking and why he was thinking it. The waves of fear and regret and self-hatred and so many other things too deep to have a name. She let him have his inner battle, because Dipper Pines was the man of resolutions; but at some point she got aware he was just self-loathing again. Self-loathing for loving his sister in unexpected and strange ways she also felt. Self-loathing for stripping her dreams away just because he said he wanted to be with her and promising they would fight together whatever it would take. Self-loathing about the fact he actually accomplished his promise and now faced the true, palpable consequences of not having a plan this time. If he only had a plan, if he only…
“Dipper!” Mabel yelled at him, and he raised the head to look at her. His wound had closed enough for his blood over his face to dry a little, but the scar was still cutting his birthmark at half.
“I…”
“No. Don’t you ever dare to say you’re sorry about this. And you know what? It’s because this is not your fault, Dipper!”
“Bu-“
“But nothing, Dipper! It was Dad the one who punched you, it was Mom the one who pushed me, it was them the ones who wanted to… to wanted to…”; Mabel couldn’t even pronounce the fact that her own parents wanted to kill their unborn grandchild. “This is the part where I get all serious and say to you: We did everything we could. It didn’t work, eh? Well, we just move on and keep going forward! Because we have each other, just like we always had!” Mabel said, half crying, half smiling. Dipper smiled as well, because he knew it was true. He had saved the universe (now more than once), living in it was the least of the problems if they were that powerful together. At least, as powerful as their love was.
“To heck with a normal life” He said with trembling lips as they approached each other and kissed fiercely. Young? For sure. Inexperienced? As every young adult. Willing to face the full grasp of all the risks, the current perils, and unexpected tangents of becoming a wandering couple of roadside adventurers? As few souls in the whole Creation were.
-
It had been a tiring day. Some unseen thing had tried to eat his leg; some random stone had pierced a tire and they had to wait until a car stopped to help them and the muscled father of the family aided them to change the tire; they had tagged 328 adults and 58 younglings within the 36 nests across 28 hectares. Should they worry about the spreading of the hairy Lovecraftian monstrosities any further? Maybe, but first they should get some profit out of it. Now they were on their way to the next town, way far along the road.
For moments, they held hands together, staying in silence. For moments, Dipper changed the gear lever. For moments, they stopped so she could pee, as unceremonious as it was; pregnancy issues, she could recall very well. But they were in their way, announced by the gorgeousness of the sunset, sealed between unsaid promises coming from silent smiles. For moments, they talked as well.
“What are we gonna call our baby, Dips?” She interrupted the sound of the radio ballad songs.
“Hadn’t we agreed we were going to wait to know what our baby is to suggest names?”
“I knoooooow but I really wanna start having this solitary baby tummy-mommy chatter and I can’t just keep calling our baby ‘unnamed baby in fabrication’”.
He laughed wholeheartedly, as only she could make him laugh.
“Ok then, what if it’s a boy”.
“Weeeeeell I was thinking about Bob, or Steve, or Ronan!” She said in joy.
“Ronan? Heck no, that sounds too much. What about Connor?”
“Mhmm, I like Connor” she nodded. “Ok, so what if it’s a girl”
“Well, I kind of thought about Madeline, or Samantha, or Cassiopeia!”
“Do you really want to call our baby girl like a Greek tragedy?” she dismissed with a defiant smile.
“Ok ok, maybe it’s kinda preposterous. That’s a hard choice, Mabes”
“What about Mabel 2.0? Like Grenda!”
“I still want to figure out how names with numbers are allowed, by the way” he asserted.
“Eh, we’ll know when we reach New Jersey”
He smiled with hope. It was a still-in-process plan, but it was something they could have for sure. That, if the thing with the eldritch furry monsters didn’t grow for them to having to change it. They were going to land at New Jersey, where the grunkles would reach in some months to help them to acquire the old pawn shop they once lived in. It was a plan, and that’s the only thing they needed to know as they approached their destiny.
“We’ll make it, Dips” She reassured with a gentle glance.
“I know” He said back, as they drove deep within the endless road. Life was theirs to live, and that was everything that mattered.
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For the ask game, would you please answer questions numbered 2, 8, 14 (all of your titles have such cool names), 18 (I hope Abditory isn't one of them as that story rocks), 21, 24, 29, 30, 33, 34, 44, 51, 62, 76, 82, 85, 88, 90, and 98.
Sorry for asking so many, but I love your work! Entombed gave me so many feels! I found your stories because author Breanie said to read them in her author's notes. Best rec ever! Thank you for answering.
Wow, that is a lot of asks! Thank you so much for wanting to know so much about little ole me. I think I hit them all in this and my apologies if I missed one. Let me know if I missed one. @breaniebree is awesome and my writing BFF. She is amazing, and I love her.
2) What fandoms do you write for and do you have a particular favourite if you write for more than one?
So, I’ve written for The X-Files, Supernatural, and Harry Potter. I currently only write for Harry Potter. I would say Harry Potter has always been the most fun.
8) Where do you take your inspiration from?
Random shit. Brontide came to me because I was browsing the HPFanfiction subreddit looking for a story suggestion and someone asked for a story where Harry was addicted to Felix. Only one unfinished dimensional time travel story was listed. It idea sparked me to write my own version. Entombed came to me because I was rewatching Buffy the Vampire Slayer where Buffy was buried alive. I knew I wanted to bury Ginny alive. As I stated in the author’s notes of last Kalopsia chapter, I drew inspiration from the Djinn storyline in Supernatural. I write about things I know, too. I have young kids at home so I like writing the Potter children as young because I can mimic their mannerisms in my writing. I’ve even asked my kids to say certain words to emulate their speech pattern in my writing if I’m writing that age group.
14) How did you come up with the title for the XXX? You can ask about multiple stories.
I HATE coming up with titles. My newest trend has been to literally Google “unique words”. There are a ton of Pinterest accounts who make fancy word and definition pictures. I scroll through all these little unique words and pick out ones I think fit a story. Sometimes I Google a unique word for BLANK and see if I can get a cool version of that name. @breaniebree actually helped me with Entombed.
18) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?
Sadly, I would put Abditory in this category. Never say never though. I think about it from time to time. Honestly, I abandoned it due to such a negative response I was receiving and the lack of positive response. I became discouraged. It wasn’t even negative response due to my writing, it was literally a bunch of “why would you waste your time writing a story about the biggest plot hole in the books? JKR butchered the whole SK storyline and it’s unbearable to read.” So, basically, my reviews and PMs were filled with JKR hate over that plot point in the books. They heavily outweighed the positive reviews I received. Honestly, I think that’s why a bulk of stories get abandoned - lack of positive reviews or enthusiasm for a story. If I didn’t get so many great reviews for my stories, I don’t know if I’d be able to finish them or continuing writing new ones. Fanfiction is free, (as it should be) but it’s a lot of time and hard work. A little appreciation goes a LONG way. So, my advice, review everything you love reading and encourage writers to keep writing. I always say in my authors notes that reviews make me want to write and inspire me. That’s the truth. The moment I stop getting reviews will probably be the time I take a writing break again.
21) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?
@breaniebree. I mean she’s dedicated years to a single story with so many plot lines and characters that I’m amazed she did it. She’s a fantastic writer, and I definitely consider her my writing BFF. I feel like I’ve learned a lot from her and enjoy talking about writing with her so much. I’m so glad we’ve become friends.
24) How do you feel about writing smutty scenes?
Horrified. Anytime I get a little steamy in my stories, it goes immediately to @breaniebree who usually adds way too much smut and then I cut it down to still be somewhat PG-13 in order to appeal to a wider audience.
29) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like?
I feel like Kalopsia isn’t getting as much love as my other stories. I’m way behind in my normal review count per chapter. I wonder if it’s just the confusing storyline or if it’s just not as fun to read? But I was definitely worried it wouldn’t get the love I thought it deserved when I started writing it and it’s lived up to that expectation.
30) In contrast to 29, is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at?
Cronus Rising. People still recommend it occasionally and I still get random reviews. I’m like, “why????” Its horribly written and a stupid plot line. I literally was getting back into writing after not writing for a good five years, so it’s abysmal. I’ve often wanted to rage delete it.
33) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten?
When someone tells me I should write an original novel and they’d buy the hell out of it. I do have some original novel ideas floating around (one I’ve been writing since I was like 15), but crippling fear of rejection from publishers have stopped me from ever actually finish an original novel.
34) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten?
I got some criticism in Brontide for having drama for drama’s sake with no real purpose or goal for said drama. I felt my drama served a purpose, drove the story along, and I add a lot of fluffy and cute family moments. I feel like in real life, when you to your loved one is going through sometime, it feels like nonstop drama and bad news and like a dark cloud just follows you. I wanted to emulate that in real life. So Harry’s POV was often drab because HE was the one going through something horrific and it was all doom and gloom for him.
44) What is the last line you wrote?
“You never think I listen to your ramblings, but it’s kind of hard to block out, mate.”
51) From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)
Um... I’d say a 3. I think I have some good and unique plots for stories but sometimes I struggle on how to execute those on paper effectively. I struggle with descriptions, action, and showing rather than telling. But I do think I’m good at dialogue and capturing a character’s personality. So, 3.
62) Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about.
A lot! I have a Teddy/Victoire stalker story in the works that I’m excited about. I have (this is going to sound weird) but an outsider rom-com planned where Ron/Hermione breakup right before Hinny’s wedding and Hinny struggles to get them back together before the big day. I have a Potter family vacation fluff/comedy story planned. I have a game night one-shot planned. I have a short story about Luna’s wedding. So many that I want to write and don’t know which one to write first!!
76) Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?
I’d say no. I’ve always tried to write my ideas down. Some I’ve never finished because inspiration peters off and some I plan on finishing once my newest big project is done.
82) Summarize a random fic of yours in 10 words or less.
Harry goes through some shit, and Ginny is his soulmate.
85) Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!
I don’t understand why people don’t ship Harry/Ginny more. I don’t understand the Harry/Daphne obsessions (like just why???) or the Harry/Hermione ship at all. I always see people asking for story recommendation and they specific say “no Harry/Ginny”. They are literally perfect for one another and they are soulmates.
88) If you could ask one other fanfic author three questions about their writing, writing process, or works, what would they be and who would you ask?
@breaniebree .
1.) How do you organize all your charts? Send me the ALL the charts. Because I don’t understand how you keep everything straight!
2.) How do you write so much? You’re like a little writing machine in a cute little package.
3.) Where do all the ideas come from? In a dream? Just thinking? Driving? Do you write everything out in your head like meeee? Can I have some of your writing mojo?
90) How do you process and deal with negative reviews?
I obsess over them. I analyze them. I may get bummed out and not write for a few days. If you don’t like what I write, then don’t read or review. It’s a hobby. I do this for free. I’m not asking you to critique me. Give me a nice review or ask me a question, but don’t be cruel or mean because you can hide behind a keyboard and be a bully to make yourself feel superior.
98) If you had to give up either snacks and drinks during writing sessions, or music, which would you find more difficult to say goodbye to and why?
Music. I grew up with three older brothers. My house was always rowdy and loud and obnoxious. I need it to be loud. I can’t stand the silence or focus when it’s silent. I need music to help me think and write. When I’m home alone, I always turn on the TV or music, because I can’t stand when it’s silent. I think I’d go insane.
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golden age of youth
title: golden age of youth
pairing: lee hoseok/reader
genre: racer!au/rivals to lovers!au
summary: everyone can recognize the racer with the big smile and sparkling eyes—the hero of formula one, lee hoseok. in the lineal passage of time, another racer appears with adrenaline pumping through her veins and a sharp mouth to put everyone in their places. talent exudes from the two, as well as attraction, but to love there must be something more than an adrenaline rush.
type: angst/fluff/romance/humor/suggestive
word count: 21,586
disclaimer: this is part of my august special called ‘the anti-love club’. each story can be read individually, however, you’d be getting a little bit more of backstory along with some easter eggs if you read each of them, as well as helping me with support. the masterlist can be found here.
People start coming to life when they are in a state of danger, running, with beads of sweat pooling at the skin of their nape and on their forehead, when their clothes feel too heavy on their bodies and the saliva on their mouths accumulate, excessive as they ask for more, for safety primarily. This is a game that she knows how to play—for she is the one that brings herself to dangerous races. If she knows something, it is stepping on a pedal with all the force she has on her body, controlling the wheel of racing cars and common cars alike, feeling the wind on her face when she need adrenaline the most. It just so happens that when she is there, shaking on top of a seat, smiling behind a helmet, is when she is at the most control of her life.
She has never liked the color beige—it’s dull, it means an ‘in-between’, it’s the color an older couple wear before going to sleep on the same bed, the color of coffee early in the morning, an awakening of sorts that she has never brought herself to enjoy. It’s the reason why she liked the color of her lips to be burgundy, just like the blood on her veins and arteries, matching her clothing and contrasting with her black or white cars, always polished, needily repaired by her own hands. She needs to race, she had said when she was merely nineteen, going against any odds of going to college, of living a normal and comfortable life. A sport, she claims it is, but it is more than that…
It’s a way of living. An irresponsible, entertaining, worrisome and somewhat addictive way of living, existing, breathing, enjoying.
Fast had not been the perfect way to describe her rise to the Formula One infamous racing, much less was it smooth. To her odds, she had the fact that she was a woman—not the daughter of some racer, not a spoiled brat with parents rich enough to insert her into the list of racers, but just another lover of cars that prided too much on the leather of the seats of her old car and spent too much time with a machine to ever be able to describe it in minutes. Had it not been for the woman by her side, someone who completely understood the struggles of being part of something that is usually (and mistakenly) connected to men, she would have not been there.
Meeting Heejung was easy. With her body mostly hidden by the overalls of her mechanic shop and her love for changing cars into something different from their beginnings, it was bound for them to happen to meet. Heejung needed more clients, desired for someone to sport her brand one day...and she happened to crash her old Corolla in one of the many times she had gone out illegaly to race. Heejung did not utter a word, bleached hair seeking for life in that bun that she usually wore it in, the strands normally coated in oil, face filled with all the emotions in the world. At the time, Heejung had been almost a guardian angel—she took care of her when she was just beginning, getting noticed by more racers that had brought her to legal events instead, and whenever the adrenaline of rushing through life went too crazy on her head, she soothed out every bit of her ‘ride or die’ attitude.
No, she had not been a guardian angel for her. Heejung is her guardian angel, even now when she has finally reached a good spot in her career, enough to be able to be considered half a name in this industry. This is just the preparations of the main event, of the big Formula One race that everyone has been hyping up since last year, an introductory point for all the racers and a joy for brands that wanted to be sported by the figured of teenagers and adults alike. Her chest swelled with a feeling that made her feel full, taking in the air of pure contamination, smoke, nodding her head along to the sound of some rap song that is definitely looking to be the new sound of the summer. She felt like she belonged in there, with racers equal to her wearing uniforms with brand-names, though hers barely had any, showcasing the first smile of the night because who the fuck cares that she just got there in a Corolla, while everyone else had arrived in their sport cars?
Heejung releases a laugh behind her, quite girly for the way one would expect her to be, and she gripped the sides of her uniform to bring her closer to her front. Her back collided against Heejung’s chest, earning a soft huff from her. “Look at all these people. I can’t believe you actually made it to the point you can compete with our heroes.”
She lifts her nose at that, almost like a Queen would, looking ahead of her at the majority of the men there, some even women, all equally looking for the price of pride, money and most importantly, recognition. Fame was also needed in the world of adrenaline. “They are not our heroes anymore, Heejung. We have gone through this.” This kind of friendship comes from four years of being around each other. Indeed, a worker of Heejung’s mechanic shop is now a racer, the word of their small street and the reason why there are some posts about her shared in social media. A nobody, that is what she is, and yet, she feels like seeking for more. “They are our enemies now. We are looking for the grand prize—no, we are getting it.”
“Not with that attitude.” Heejung puckers up her mouth, pulling away from her friend and crossing her arms over her chest. “You need to be appealing to the public. Girly, flirty. You want to have a fan-base of horny men looking to spend their money on you. That’s how we rise on this business.”
The flickering lights of the paparazzi taking pictures of the people ahead of her, crowds and crowds piling up, had her moving forward in order to find someone who could recognize her. After all, she wants some appearances, even an interview, something that could get her name out there and make her savor the dream that she has fought so hard for. “I don’t do that kind of shit,” She mumbles, placing her hands inside her pockets as she walks. “I want to be respected, not lusted at.”
“Who said you can’t have both?” Heejung prompts, pushing her finger up in the air albeit with an idea. “Don’t think I’m telling you that you don’t have any talent. Quite the contrary. You’ll kick the ass of most people here, but if you have something to your advantage...why not take it?”
“Because you have said so yourself,” She points out, turning her head to the side to look at her friend. She scrunches up her nose, lowering her voice to match Heejung’s tone. “You attract the wrong kind of men. You don’t need a man to fuck you for one night. You need a man to fuck you with a ring on your finger that promises a forever. Some shit like that.”
“I said that once,” Heejung retorts, placing one hand over her heart. “And I did not mean for it to be so vulgar, but since that’s the only way you understand...”
“Heejung, I don’t need the attention of the male population to rise.” She argues, though this is just one of their conversations. One of those profound ones they used to have when they were having their morning coffee and Heejung would sigh in delight about her relationship with a fellow worker, Leo. Too in love, enough to make anyone puke, it was no wonder they had waited ten years in a relationship in order to get married. Quite cute if she was honest, just not her style. “Right now, if I happen to end up getting a guy, it’s because I want us to enjoy our time now. I don’t need a future.”
“What will you do once you’re old and wrinkly and alone?” Heejung questions, pushing through a group of people until they saw the booth of the magazine they were looking for. The biggest, yet most honest, magazine in the sports industry at the moment, of high interest for sponsors and for those who looked for respect as racers.
Her eyes almost seemed to be filled with stars and if she looked at herself, she swears she’d see a glint in them. Lips are pulled into a smirk, because she has rehearsed a big chunk of her life for this. She knows how to tuck her hair to the side and speak with authority, like she owns the place, as if her foot is heavy enough to run over the world itself. “I’ll get a Volkswagen and drive me the hell around town. That’s what I’m going to do. Enjoy my life.”
“You know what? Fair enough.” Heejung huffs, fixing her bun once again and leaving a few strands out, making her angled face look much softer with her thick lips pushed upwards. “I’ll stop having the friend talk and now I’m going to be your manager. I have various roles in your life.”
“I can already feel the rant—”
“Not only I am your manager and your friend, I’m also your mechanic. Your mom. Your nurse. Your sibling. Your brasswork assitant. I do everything for you. Publicist, too.” She huffs out before turning to look at her racer friend, taking her by the shoulders and releasing some pressure on the tense muscles. “There is a guy there, right, but we need to approach him as quickly as possible. He’s a journalist, the newest one—”
She quirks an eyebrow at that, trying to tease her friend. “How would you know that?”
“Leo knows him, remember? He went to college. I thought you knew he’s a journalist, either way—” Heejung closes her eyes tightly, as if scolding herself for talking too much before opening them once again. “His name is Matt. Well, Matt for short. He interviews just about anyone because he’s younger, much less important, and he releases some good articles online, including Instagram links. So we’re looking for him, I think he’s free right now.” Lacing her arms with Heejung’s, she feels her weight being dragged to get her to walk quicker. Heejung must be exercising more than her...or maybe she should just actually go for a walk instead of driving everywhere. “He’s the one seated there,” Heejung whispers once inside the publicity tent, pointing with her chin at one of the seats near the stage, the one that the most well-known racers used.
Actually, Matt is quite the unexpected sight. She expects some man with baggy pants and a Ferrari t-shirt, but instead she is welcomed by a lanky, tall man with glasses. Not weak looking at all, his brown gaze behind his glasses and his dull chocolate-hair just created contrast to him, wearing a sweater even when the amount of people there were enough to create body-heat for a million people. His camera hung around his neck and he seemed to be taking a breather, if his looking around is anything to go by, a notepad resting on his lap experly.
And yes, those are khakis. She definitely can see them now. She shouldn’t be afraid of someone like him, yet something about him exuded professionalism. Maybe, Heejung is right. Maybe, she should have tried to be a better actress instead of binging videos of the racers she looks up to, because a flutter of her eyelids and a much cleaner mouth could work to her favor here. Damn it for having the mouth of an angry ninety-year-old woman and for using too many profanities in her speech, because Heejung is suddenly walking her towards the man and she is starting to feel a tad bit nervous.
Which is strange, for someone who never gets nervous about anything—dates, due-dates and even racing through the smallest of streets in the highest of speeds—, she surely feels like her food must return from its trip at any given minute and end up on this man’s khakis.
“Hi, are you Matt?” Heejung asks softly, extending her hand for the man to take and he lifts his gaze from his notepad, finally seeing a bit of his smile on his delicate features.
“Yes. May I know who you are? I wasn’t actually waiting for anyone—” Matt speaks, voice filled with the seriousness that she had expected, that monotone voice that reminded her that this was a serious situation. What she said or didn’t could be recorded and used against her at any given moment.
“I’m Leo’s wife! He told me he had spoken to you so you could interview my client.” Heejung speaks with a smile on her face, wrapping her arm around her shoulder and shaking her slightly, like a mother who is proudly showing off that her daughter can race...and shouldn’t be proud of it. “She’s in the line-up for the race and pretty new, so a head start would work in our favor so much.”
Matt stands up at that, grasping the camera in between his fingers as recognition filled his face. “Ah yes, Leo,” Heejung seems to be delighted at the sound of her man’s name. Huh, so maybe love does work for some people and she just happens to be one of those who it had not worked for. “I remember him quite fondly. We used to hang out a lot in the printing room...since he worked there, you know, he’d sneak in some papers and wouldn’t ask me for more money.”
Well, that sounds exactly like the Leo who could spend his entire night in the shop if it meant pleasing every client, even if the car has no chance of being brought to life. “That’s delightful.”
Matt looks at her, at her silent, statue-like stance and she wonders why she hasn’t spoken, hasn’t used that confidence of hers to introduce herself, so she does. Or tries to, her hands are a bit clammy—though, if asked, she’d blame it on the weather—and her voice shakes when she says her name out loud. “I’m a huge fan of your magazine...and your work is amazing, too. Only have gotten a few glimpses, though, but I’m fucking glad I did.” Heejung nudges her side and had she looked at her, she knew she would widen her eyes because obscenities in a sentence aren’t pretty and because she hasn’t actually read anything from him.
Or if she has...she doesn’t know.
Oh God, what if he asks what her favorite article of his is?
Though, Matt’s smile reaches his eyes, taking his pen out of the pocket of his dark blue sweater, clicking it and writing her name down on the small notebook. “Haven’t gotten that in a while. As a writer in a magazine, you barely get any recognition.”
“It happens.” She whispers, lifting her head when Matt looks at her and giving him a tight smile. Tight and fake smile, because she is far too casual for these types of things. She can’t come up with a story, taken out of her ass, about how her racing abilities came from some bonding experience when she was a child or because she had to find a way to escape from her reality. The truth is...she did it because she felt like it, because her desire to be on edge surpassed any rational thought. She had taken a car, pressed on the pedal too hard and liked it. Then, her own thrive was what led her to be there.
“So—”
“Matt!” The boisterous voice of a man, albeit shorter than Matt himself and visibly older, more pompous, had interrupted the guy’s speech before he could start interviewing her and his posture straightened when the loud man came over to hug him, gripping him for a few minutes and lifting him up his feet just in time to hear more masculine, definitely smoother laughter. The source of the voice catches her attention, making her look just to catch a glimpse of exactly who should have not been there at that time. “Wonho is here for the interview. What are you doing there losing time?! My guy finished an interview early to give you your article.”
“O-Oh—” Matt utters, unhooking himself from the hug and sending an apologetic glance at the two women in front of him. “Better not make him wait, then.”
Wonho greets him with a handshake, looking at her from the corner of his eyes and sending a charming smile her way, along with Heejung’s. This is the dream client for someone like Heejung, definitely a people pleaser. “No, don’t worry. Do your thing, I’ll wait.”
Matt shakes his head, perhaps tranced from the thick muscles and the soft scent that belonged to Wonho, but she doesn’t forget the way he easily dismisses her existence and Heejung’s with a quick: “They can wait! Let’s just start your interview.”
The rockstar of cars, the biggest, the loveliest Formula One racer, the same one that had every racer shaking on their feet, winner of last year, owned by magazines and brands. Oh, she knows his name—even past his artistic one, he calls himself Wonho when on his zone, on his own stage, but when he is out of racing, he is Lee Hoseok. With ashy black hair that often hides under his helmet, once off falling down his smooth forehead, giving life to his dark and understanding eyes, smile worth a trillion more than hers will ever. The muscles are definitely a plus, surely, enough to catch her gaze when he turns around and moves along Matt and his manager.
Nice ass, she thinks, still belonging to the enemy, so that deems it not worthy of her interest.
Someone like him doesn’t have to wait, not when he makes everyone swoon with the red color of the tip of his big ears whenever he is feeling a bit shy. Not when his voice is charming, dragging on certain syllables, using the ‘s’ at his favor to make it sound more profound. Charming, that he is, exactly what she lacks and maybe, that is what this Formula One race is looking for.
They want someone to stand in the cover of magazines holding their brand. They want someone who appeals to a bigger audience.
Or wanted, now they’ll want her talent. No matter how against the rules she is in the world of publicism.
“You know what, I don’t need to wait. Much less do I need to be disrespected like this.” She mumbles, tightening the zipper of her uniform and bringing it up to her neck, licking the inside of her cheek as she moves towards the set of cars, the real racing cars, where in about twenty minutes they’ll make some demonstration for people to feel more hyped for the main event. In a week, and yet making her feel high on adrenaline.
Heejung is following behind her, sneakers dragging against the concrete and pushing through the groups of people. “W-Wait. No, we’ll have to wait. Yes or yes.”
“I’ll teach Matt that I’m better than that Wonho guy.” She releases into the air, turning around just in time to catch Heejung in her arms when their chests collided together.
“Don’t—Don’t be making enemies already!”
“He’s not my enemy, per se, I’ll change the term.” She says. “He’s my rival. I accept he’s a fine piece of ass and that he’s an excellent racer but—” She cuts herself off, catching her helmet as Leo throws it her way, also one of her team. “I either win or I win. There’s no in-between.”
At first, the sentiment is too fast for her to catch it. Twenty minutes later, she is seated inside her small racing car, waiting for that one signal that starts it all. A noise and then, she simply steps on the pedal, wishing for everyone ahead of her to simply leave her alone. It starts at her feet, as if electricity is brought from any shake of the device, going up her calves and her legs, releasing all sort of tension from them and bringing a sense of purpose to her gut. She finally feels like she is complete, a smile behind her mask when she turns on a corner, when she hears the engine roar to life, as animalistic as it can get. She can’t think, she doesn’t have enough time to, looking at the quickened faces that she can’t make out, but mostly at the road ahead of her. Gray, a color that she loves, very welcomed behind her fiery eyes, feisty when she stops hearing the noise of other cars from up close. That must mean she is first or has finished as last.
Someone is by her side, then appearing in front of her in his own racing car. Black uniform, broad shoulders and those bunch of sponsor names written on the fabric, enough to have his life secured in his rich lifestyle. She knows who this man is, the one trying to pass by her, the same one that makes it insufferable to look to her right when all the cameras are flashing to take a picture of him. The God of racing, Lee Hoseok.
Wonho.
She needs to beat him.
She steps harder on the pedal, as if she could, feeling the sole of her feet shoot an ache up her calf, moving her steering wheel until she is by his side. She plays around a bit with the pedal, wanting the car to be nosy as it passes by him again, this time around not caring so much about the beauty of her turns but simply wanting to get to the end line. She does, apparently, but not in enough time to beat Hoseok’s car, who simply passes by her in a millisecond, as if he had caught up on her technique.
He probably did, he is definitely not stupid. He uses that smile of his, sweet and deliciously charming, to his favor.
Anger has her throwing her helmet on the floor once she gets out of the car. A tantrum, yes, but hidden by the way she places her hands on her hips and breathes in deeply. Anyone that looked at her, at the fucking second place that she is right now, would think she is just tired and for the sake of Heejung not giving her an earful, she better act like she is, but when she looks at Hoseok, he is already looking at her. Chuckling slightly, his shoulders shake when he lifts his hand up to greet his crowd. People cheer for him, watch as he nears her and extends his hand for her to take. Over the noise, she can make out the sound of his dulcet voice when he says:
“I don’t know what I was expecting from you, but you’re way better than anyone could have ever imagined. Good job.” Oh, of course he had to be nice. He just had to. Something about him had to be topped by his outgoing personality, like he’ll always make you feel like you belong, smooth with the way he speaks. For a moment, she feels like falling for it, and she half does, but the bigger part of herself is the one that makes her hand go forward, grasp him with such force that even a gym-rat like him stumbles forward, bumping her shoulder with his to make a statement when she speaks, loud and clear, enough to reach the ears of whoever is around them. Press or not.
“Just wait until I win over you on the night of the race. I’ll do a better job then.” Hoseok’s eyebrows lift at that, holding his helmet to his side, pressed to his waist when he sees a smile appear on her face. The contact of his hand had been so soft, almost tender in comparison of her rough hands from so much working, but she couldn’t think twice about his charms.
Only that she did. Something about winning against him was...thrilling. No one could stop her if she got the Lee Hoseok, the one and only, to give her a second glance. His smile doesn’t falter, instead he continues the conversation.
“I can’t wait.” Hoseok announces, biting his bottom lip and looking to the sides, chuckling a bit to himself.
“Don’t laugh so much. You’ll be begging me to hang out with you once that night is over.” She can hear the shouts of Heejung inside her brain, like she is telling her that this is going to be bad press but who is she kidding? This is what she wants...and possibly, what those gossip-thirsty people want.
“Huh, even if you don’t win, I might.” Those words she did not expect, almost making her smile falter but it only presses harder, the light behind her eyes changing as if they were alone in that people-packed world. His eyes connect with her, the depths of them showing a saint but reading a hidden...sin, almost like he is an angel with dark wings.
Maybe he is, but she’ll make sure to figure it out.
“Got you interested?”
He shrugs. “Maybe.” He answers, before putting his helmet on again. “Next time around, though, just some advice.” His sweetened tone held a smile, she could feel it, much more when he takes her hand again and lets his thumb rub the back of it, more delicate than she could ever be. Perhaps, they are actually polar opposites, connected by the idea of proving which one is better. They want to rule over the other, acting upon attraction, tethering into playful banter. “Don’t throw a tantrum. It’s a cute look, not a good one.”
And with that, he leaves. His manager is talking to him as he speaks, once again pleasing the paparazzi that are asking for him, asking for more and more of Lee Hoseok and she stands there, ignored, no one compared to the master of racing. When she turns, however, Heejung is already making grabby-hands at her neck, fingers curling against each other and showing what seems to be frustration.
Uh-oh.
...Maybe flirting in front of hundreds of people was actually not a good idea.
But when has she ever had one of those?
🚗
With her back pressed to the mechanic’s creeper, knees bent and one of her hands holding a flashlight up to the bottom of the car whilst the other is working diligently, she realizes that she never really follows the rules. If ever. While everyone in the mechanic shop is wearing their overalls perfectly, zipped up, coated in oil and black tints plastered all over the fabric, she has the long sleeves of her overalls wrapped around her waist, her white tank top silently asking for mercy thanks to all the dirt that has now accumulated over her chest. Not that she can bring herself to care, much less when she is on her fourth cup of coffee of the morning, excited to get her car to start working after dying on her while in her way back to her house.
Someone must have noticed the lack of coffee, because Leo starts the coffee machine right after asking his wife: “Babe, did you finish this coffee? I left it full just an hour ago.”
Okay, so maybe the grand night of the Formula One race was getting closer and her need of coffee comes from the fact that she hasn’t slept very well. Or at all. The ache behind her eyelids is painful when she tries to concentrate on the little, smallest pieces of the car, almost like a surgeon who is looking for that exact mistake that has been bothering the entire body. Someone had noticed the reason as to why there is no more coffee in the shop, though. “I didn’t finish it, but I know who did.” The thud of Heejung’s foot against her calf makes her let out a breath in surprise, a smile appearing on her face soon after. “Say sorry to Leo, you big child.”
“I’m sorry, Leo!” She utters from under the car, unable to contain the giggles that bubble up from her chest. This is what happiness is about, feeling the crispy sun entering from the open gates of the shop, hearing the coffee brewing as quickly as it can, smelling like old cars and leather seats. This is not a world of Maserati’s and rains of money, but it will be one day. She’s hopeful, loyal, waiting for the time she can finally glow to her fullest potential. If she doesn’t sleep before this race, however, she won’t even be able to win.
“Don’t scold her so much.” Leo adds in that sweetened tone of his and she can imagine the sweet-looking man with the rounded cheeks nudging his wife’s side. “She’s under a lot of pressure.”
“You know more than anyone that I love her with my entire heart,” And she is certain Heejung really does such thing. No one wakes up at midnight to help their friend out pushing her car back home. No one becomes a manager of their best friend who is far too stubborn for her own good. No one would have done that, for her or for anyone like her, driving through a dead-end street for the sake of their friendship. “...But she does this even if she is not about to race for Formula One.”
“Stop talking about me as if I’m not in the room.” She says, somewhat scared that they’d realize just how nervous she is. Shaken to the core, not because of her abilities, she trusts those, but because there is someone better than her already...Lee Hoseok, who in the little publicity stunt had sat her back down on her place, as if she was insignificant and while she knows he did it simply to tease her, one of his tactics coming from the electricity between them, she still feels somewhat...thoughtful.
Enraged, but the kind of enraged that has her smiling when she realizes that—huh, Lee Hoseok is the type of man to have the sweetest smile in the world, yet be endlessly honest.
For a moment, she gets tranced in her own car. This old thing that she had bought with money that should have gone for her rent, but back then she didn’t know any better. It just screamed for her to own it, mostly because it reminded her of one of the first few magazines she had peeked at when her interest in cars and racing grew. It’s from the nineties, surely, it looks like it belongs to that era, but some classics never really get ancient. Nonetheless, nowadays it was difficult to keep it up its feet. With the money she has earned from precious races, though still not as big as what she’d earn does she win the race that’ll take place in three days, she has been able to make it look somewhat decent. Still, the engine is a headache and underneath, it looks as if it had been hit a thousand times before she bought it.
Probably true, but the most gorgeous of things are filled with memories of hardships.
The moment grows larger, longer, keeping her under the car more than necessary, only getting out when she needs to try out the car to no avail. At some point, her back is aching so badly that it cracks when she gets on the creeper again, the smell of coffee long gone, Leo now on his third car of the day and Heejung must be somewhere, but she can’t bring herself to look for her right now. When she bites down on her bottom lip, doing a few arrangements that will take her to the exact position her car should be in, she hears the sound of thick, dense boots kicking against the concrete of their shop, whoever this is stood by the side of her car, leaving him with a view of the black, stylish boots said man wore for the afternoon. Whoever this is has a tough walk, strong muscles and—
“Uh, good afternoon. May I have your help? My car just died on me right now, the engine is not even roaring and I had to push it all the way here.” That voice, angelic but with an edge, not pompous although he is a man of wealth, somewhat humble as well. The delicate lisp that gives out that this is Lee Hoseok. The...rival that is now in her quarter, in her zone, asking for help from no other than her own team.
She’d roll out from underneath the car, but she is hiding. Seeing him would mean that she’d up saying something competitive, yet stupidly romantic and flirty because there is something about him that she wants to have, own even for the slightest of seconds. Luckily for her, the man doesn’t seem to be paying attention to her, instead listening to the sound of Heejung’s voice.
“Ah, yes. We’ll gladly help you. Is your car out there? I’m free right now.” Heejung is political. She knows how to speak and how to do it, unlike her. She can imagine the smile on her face and from the distance, she hears Leo stopping with whatever job he was doing.
“Yeah, it’s parked out there. Sorry, I couldn’t bring it here, I had to push it for too long...” Even he apologizes, sweetening her mouth and leaving it in the back of her tongue. This is the kind of person Lee Hoseok is...and it’s so thrilling to see that someone of his caliber either is perfect at being fake or is incredibly nice. Soon after, he gives a small chuckle, resting his arm against her precious car when he speaks out her name along with Heejung’s. “Wait, you’re her manager, right? I read about the two of you in the line-up. I didn’t think you’d own a mechanic shop.”
“Uh, I, yes—She’s—” Heejung is trying to look for words, because in her immense intelligent, publicitary head, she probably thinks Hoseok is holding a grudge against her. He may, actually.
“And that’s another guy from her team. I saw him with her that same night we raced.” Hoseok points out, now moving his legs slightly as he trails his gaze across the room. She sees his feet moving now, keeping her legs out of underneath the car, peeking like a monster under a kid’s bed. “So...that leaves us to believe the one person under the car must be your client, I suppose.”
Dang it. He’s not as stupid as one would have imagined he is, granted the prince-like title he holds in the racing industry. She clears her throat, placing the flashlight down on her abdomen before looking up at the car, as if it was the sky and she was looking for answers there. “Is there anything I can do for you, Wonho?”
“Not really,” He says, the car shaking slightly when he rests his weight over the hood of it and if he dares bend it the slightest, she’ll have to use the power of her friend also being her legal representation. Heejung is just the biggest chunk of her life in what consists of individuals. “But it’s pretty funny. You’re hiding from me now, when you were about to eat me alive in the race.”
One thing that she does not do is hide. Even under the helmets, the layers of clothing she uses for racing, even from the cameras...she never hides. There is nothing she should be embarrassed of, prideful of her work as prideful can get, so to say that is a bang to her chest, an immediate response that has her moving her legs forward, bending her knees to bring the creeper out from underneath, face finally getting a fresh gush of air to stop her heated cheeks and to dry the glint of sweat that rests upon her arms and chest. “I’m not hiding. Never have I ever consider hiding from you.”
Hoseok smiles, laughs when he straightens his back to look at her, inspecting her flustered face that doesn’t come from him or his malicious comments, all dressed in angel clothing, but from the heat. “I know, I’m just teasing.” He sweetly conquers, pointing at her while exchanging a glance with Heejung. “Can’t she fix my car? She looks like she knows what she is doing.”
She stands up then, thanks to the hand he extends for her to take, his soft touch still a contrast of how she thought he’d be. It takes her three steps to be inside her car, turning the key in the ignition and watching it come to life when a smile appears on her face. “I don’t look like I know what I am doing. I really do know what to do with cars.” She rests her forearms on the steering wheel, speaking loudly when she quirk an eyebrow at Hoseok. “Why? Haven’t fixed one in your life?”
She hears Heejung shouting her name as a scolding, but Hoseok simply kneels the slightest, looking at her from the open windows. He tilts his head to the side. “I used to. I don’t think I do anyone, I just get them fixed.”
“Just accept you want me to waste time on your car instead of spending it practicing for the race.” She tuts him, only to watch the smirk fall from his face, lips parting along the same time his eyebrows lift in surprise.
“I would never do that.” He truthfully says, interlocking his fingers in front of him, cladded in rings that she has taken a glimpse of. He doesn’t make it easy, the soft tone of his voice that reaches the deps of her ribs, moves them out of their place with each quickened breath she takes to calm herself down. For someone who protects, shelters herself from the world with an attitude of stubbornness and recklessness, he seems to have some power over her. Sensitivity exists within her soul whenever he is around, calming it down, giving it a dose of whatever his eyes give out. It is a complete different ordeal than the pumping of her heart when he challenges her. “I just want to see how you do, that’s all. No second intentions. I could even pay ahead. I don’t have cash with me right now, but I have my card...what do you want me to buy you?”
She unlocks the doors of her car, nodding along to his words. “Alright, buy me a Lamborghini Veneno.” The item is worth millions, the reason why Hoseok’s shoulders shake in the wheeze he lets out, looking at her with surprise in his expression.
“No, be serious!”
“I’m serious.” She says, leaning forward until their faces are just centimeters away. “Buy me my Lamborghini and I’ll fix your car.”
Hoseok takes his wallet out, waving it in front of her face with a gentle smile on his sweet features. He knows what he is doing, he has to, and she finds herself smiling as well when the air around them is too thick for the two of them to breathe together. The oxygen is lacking, her eyes inspecting his features, from his plush lips to the length of his dark eyelashes, the piercings that rest on his earlobes and shine against the sunlight romantically. “What about coffee and pastries? You get to drive me there and practice. I also pay you while I see what you’re all about in a real car.”
She steals a glance at Heejung, the kind of face that is telling her not to do it, because she knows exactly what her intentions are. This is the kind of people she always seek for, the ones that give her adrenaline, pump her up with the chase of finding someone, the game of connecting with another person before the fire dulls down. Heejung’s face is framed by her messy hair, shaking her head at her but she ignores it, pointing at the passenger seat with her thumb as she instructs Hoseok: “Get in the passenger seat if you want to know what a real racer looks like.”
“Why? Am I look at myself in the mirror?” Hoseok asks, not giving her time to answer as he walks in front of her car, enough for her to detail the black tee and the matching, tight pants with roaming eyes before he is seated by her side, putting his seatbelt on at the same time as her.
“Buckle up. You’ll need it.”
She notices at that moment, when she steps on the pedal with expertise and excellence, that Hoseok looks at life differently. He feels everything in a different manner, showcased by the way his hands grip to his sides, a shriek leaving his lips just in time for a smile to reach his cheeks. She takes that much in from a glance at him, rounding around his car and getting out of the street that leads to the mechanic shop, leaving a cloud of dust and smoke behind them. Her car is back to its normality, how she knows it, making her hum in delight when the radio turns up with the usual station that accompanies her late night adventures and someone as grand as Hoseok, as delightful in the racing industry, seems surprised when she goes about the streets as if she doesn’t care. She doesn’t, actually, she’ll stop when she feels like the police would catch her.
“Your foot is heavy, oh my God!” Hoseok comments, chuckles leaving his broad chest when she takes one glance over at him, slowing down when she reaches farther from the mechanic shop, more people coming into view, less known than her usual neighbors.
“I came to this life just to play. That’s all.” She answers, her voice more audible now that she has slowed down, smoothly gliding her hands against the steering wheel until her elbow is resting on the opened window, fist pressed to her cheek, looking ahead. “So, I get to pick the coffee place?”
“Whatever you want,” When she gives him a side-eye, she catches him staring, a big smile on his face when he does. “Yeah, wherever you want.”
A few streets ahead, her favorite coffee shop sells the most delicious of pastries and from the bitter taste that was left from her lunch, she’ll need something sweet. Something quite like Lee Hoseok in this eventful afternoon. “Even hell? Because man, I can really take you there—”
“You’re not a demon.” He answers, leaning back on his seat when he breaks his gaze away from her. “You’re more angelic than you think you are.”
“Oh yes, of course, something about almost making you fall in front of everyone in a race and saying more curse words in a sentence than any other person could just speaks angelic.” She sarcastically prompts, straightening her back and chuckling. “I’m not even a demon. I could be Satan herself.”
“Satan is a man.”
“Who told you that?” She asks, stopping the car right in front of the coffee shop before smiling. “I’m very much a woman.”
Hoseok is amused, she sees it in the way he gets out of the car as quickly as she does, following after her with laughter bubbling from his chest. “What is it with you and this image you have going on? Are you really this reckless or are you doing it to be interesting?”
“I don’t know, Wonho, Hoseok...Formula One loser, is it interesting to you?” She asks, standing right in front of the door of her favorite coffee place to see that it is closed. A pout wants to overtake her lips, though she simply points at the sign that reads they are closed for today thanks to technical difficulties.
“Very.” He says, his shoulder pressing to hers when he looks around the street, hands hidden in his pockets before he points with his chin towards a bakery. “That looks like a good place for pastries. I owe you the coffee, but hey, at least I got you to go out to a place with me without having you threaten me.”
She smiles, walking right by his side towards the bakery, one that is just next to another one, the separation in between them clear when the colors are completely different, one more exquisite and expensive looking, the other more humbled and beige-colored. “If you’re wondering, though, it’s really not an act. I’m this kind of person every day and every night.”
Hoseok makes the decision to open the door to the beige-colored bakery, earning a pointed look from the delivery man on the black bakery, who immediately stands up when he hears the sound of laughter coming from one of the workers in the bakery. She hears a name, Kihyun, but she doesn’t pay much attention to their conversation as she gets further inside the place.
“...Also, if you really wanted to go out with me, you could’ve just asked.” She answers, shrugging her shoulders when Hoseok asks:
“Would you have said no?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you figure it out?”
In that small bakery, eating bites of the sweetest of meals, she learns that Hoseok’s image is somewhat fabricated, made to be the cocky and powerful racer that everyone admires. Beneath that, there is a softer soul, someone whose love for racing goes deeper than any magazine could ever showcase. She wasn’t wrong when she said they were polar opposites.
🚗
Her sponsor is quite the brand.
...It’s good for her, at least, somewhat productive.
Energy buzzes through her; it comes in sharp movements of her legs, in the jumping of her feet, in the way she goes from one corner to the other of the booth in which her team stays in. Leo, Heejung and a few other of her friends. The reason as to why she is so electrified, as if thunder had gone through her body, penetrating on every cell, is perpetually written on her uniform, the only sponsor she has. An energy drink company, good enough to have her pupils dilated as she waits for the race to start, a few pictures sent her way and in most pictures, anyone can probably notice the sweat that pools on her forehead and the frenzied look on her face.
Nervousness is not a good look. It doesn’t belong to her, either, she is not the type to get extremely nervous—but the race is finally upon her, the taste of the Formula One title lingering on the back of her tongue, only heightening her ambition when she sees the amount of racers there. In her little rendezvous of hatred with Hoseok, she had completely forgotten that there are other racers there; equally as hardworking, as good, as rich or ambitious as she wants to be. This led to drinking ehr first energy drink early in the morning, almost like breakfast, downing it in one go and now, at this hour of the afternoon, she has already had too many energy drink to even count.
She grips Heejung’s forearm, resting one foot on the floor at a time in her small jumping-dance, ridiculous to anyone who would be looking at her. She feels like she is back to when she was a child and couldn’t go to the bathroom herself. “Jung, I really need to pee. Like, so bad.”
Heejung’s face grows stoic, almost too serious, tugging at her sleeve to get her attention once again. This time, her manager and best friend turns to look at her with a sigh. “Then, just go to the bathroom!”
“But what if the race starts soon?” She worries, the whine in her tone something that she is not accustomed to. The acoustics of the place bring her on the edge, apparently, listening to too many voices, music that is too loud, making her feel out of place, compared to how excited she is most of the time—ready to take over the world. “Heejung!”
“You should have thought about that when you were drinking another can of energy drinks—” She replies before patting the racer’s shoulder. “Just go, it won’t take you more than two minutes and you still have time. Go.”
“Are you sure?”
“...You can always pee your pants inside your car, either way. Don’t go, it’s fine with me.” Heejung sarcastically adds, watching as she pats her best friend’s shoulder quickly to get some of the tension off her body, adrenaline rushing too quickly through her veins.
“Don’t be an asshole. I’m going to pee. Wait for me here, okay? Scream my name if the race starts.”
“Or I could just call you.”
“Great idea, that too!”
Unusual must not be the adjective she was looking for when she heard a knock on the door of the bathroom, open for anyone to enter. By that time, she is washing her hands, splashing some of the leftover water on her face and patting her cheeks quickly, albeit a bit harshly, to get any kind of anxiousness out of her system. The person outside knocks the door again, something that has her screaming out a ‘it’s open!’ into the thin air. No one listens, or they don’t understand her, making her huff as she pats her hands on the backside of her uniform, walking towards the door and opening it with her elbows—hygiene first, she tells herself—but once she is about to come face to face with the annoying woman at the door, she realizes it is not a woman at all.
You see, this is very much a man.
Someone she knows, not like the back of her hand, but at moments like these she wishes she did.
His image is pristine. He’s the sweet man of the Formula One; the person who makes everyone feel special, after all, with some titles under his name and some questionable friends, but beyond anything, people consider him sacred. A sanctified sin, she’d call him, much more in the way he looks currently. His dark hair falls upon his forehead, thin eyebrows covered and his eyes darker than ever. There seems to be a hint of makeup on his skin, his lips are rosier than ever, calling out for dignification the moment he calls out her name with a smile on his face.
Not to talk about the way her eyes dart towards his body, elegance as is with the way his uniform has a the zipper a bit low, giving a glimpse his chest, his workout routine noticeable in everything about him. The star of the night, however, is the grin he gives her when he dumbly adds: “I’m so happy you’re here.”
“Well, I’m a contestant. Of course I’m here.” She points out, catching the way his cheeks light up under the bright lights of the place they are in. “Are your nerves getting the best of you? Because I could grab one of the lollipops inside the girl’s bathroom and give it to you.” She looks up and down at him, biting down her bottom lip after shrugging her shoulders. “There’s no shame if that’s why you were knocking.”
Hoseok, now in his Wonho persona, covers his embarrassment with a chuckle. “I’m not nervous.”
“I am.” She confesses. “...But either way, that must be the twenty energy drinks I just had.” She teases, laughing at her own joke before sighing, resting her hands inside the pockets of her uniform. “Can I help you out with anything?”
He crosses his arms over his chest and she invites herself not to look down. It’d be weak of her to show that she is affected by him, much more when they are minutes away from knowing who the winner of this little internal fight they’ve had is. “Actually, I was looking for you because I may have gotten you an interview with the biggest racing magazine in the industry.”
“Huh?” She says, pointing in between them before scoffing. “You—Me? Wait? Interview? No one wants to interview me.”
Protection is the best policy. The thought of not being wanted in a world that she has tried her hardest to be part of is heartbreaking; sometimes, she finds herself wondering if she’ll ever make it. Wanting to is one thing, actually doing it is another. In this case, Hoseok leans against the nearest wall, looking at her with a faint grin on his face. “At first, they only wanted me there but I said I would not give them an interview if they didn’t give you a chance.”
She slaps her hands against her thighs, falling thanks to gravity. This is something new—Hoseok is just the type of man to adore attention, or so she had thought. He couldn’t possibly do something like this...right? “No way you did or said that. There’s no way.”
“But I did.” Hoseok finishes, his face softening when he lets out a sigh. “Even if I come up last tonight, I’ll still get interviews and sponsorships. Your career is still starting, I don’t want you feeling discouraged just because of the lack of attention from the public.”
She raises her eyebrows at that, battling the stone in her soul, finding out if she can still keep up that confident persona of hers when in reality, Hoseok has simply given a one-in-a-time opportunity. Heejung would be thrilled, until she heard that it was from Hoseok. Something about him was rather gravitational, both good and bad, like she wanted to be closer but she knew it was impossible for them to ever become one. Why? Just a sixth sense.
“Mhm, I see.” She hums, getting closer to him and looking up at his eyes, which are now glistening when the air in between them is shared. Hoseok may be adrenaline at its finest, the feeling of sneaking in at night behind her family and feeling alive again. He reminds her of the tests in which she cheated in and the thrill of getting caught made her feel powerful. Fearless, some called her, obsessed with feeling alive to the point she’d do anything to have her heart palpitating more than it should. If she can get that from Hoseok, why not use it to her favor? “Thank you.” Though, she speaks from the heart, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and breathing in the scent of him.
Hoseok’s fingers delve into her waist, until they land on the curve of her spine. Even her bones are fidgety, caused by the energy on her system or the thankfulness for him. For a nice soul to exist in such a place. “A-Ah, you’re welcome.” He composes himself quickly. As if the poer of her is not enough to trance him. His fingers trail up her back when she pulls away, grasping the edges of her hair before they are off her ambience. “You better get going. I sent them to your booth and I think they must be waiting for you. The race starts in twenty minutes.”
“Okay, noted.” She replies, giving a few steps forward before turning around, walking backwards whilst speaking to him. “You know, at this rate, you’re really going to end up getting in my good list, Wonho.”
“Can’t end up where I already am.” He sneakily adds, clever beyond what anyone would have imagined before he waves his hand in the air. “See you after the race.”
“Let’s see who is winner by then.”
The interview is, apparently, what she needed to feel better. A camera pointed to her face, a microphone in front of her lips and questions that take her into consideration as a possible winner for the race, just like anyone else. This is a dream beyond fame, of strength instead, of being able to live a fun life without the reigns of responsibility. Sometimes, she wonders if she’ll have to grow out of this mindset—the fear of getting older is not as strong as losing her eternal youth, the essence of her. This is what she has always dreamed of; she confirms.
It’s more of a reality when Leo and Heejung are no longer in sight, when her thighs are pressed to the smaller car in which she is in, helmet secured in place, hands holding onto the steering wheel. She wishes she could have a mirror at that moment, because Hoseok is parked not too far away, testing his engine, letting it roar. She looks over her shoulder, seeing a slit of his eyes behind the helmet, though by the way they crinkle he is smiling.
She has never quite been this affected by anyone, like she needs to win in order to gain some attention. From the public. From the magazines, the TV shows, the man that everyone adores.
It’s no longer about dethroning him. It’s a state of graceful competition, igniting a fire of attraction, of wanting to push his buttons to get a reaction.
When the race stars, she realizes this is all she has known. When she was a teenager and she would take her friend’s car out for a ride, not caring that the wind blew too hard on her hair or that she couldn’t see properly with the speed she was going in. When she fell in love too quickly, too hard, like she needs to feel alive for once, feel like she has the reigns of starting a fire and dulling it at the same time. Stepping on the engine is necessary, it’s the only way she prove that she is more than just a forgettable woman in the background. The stakes are clear—money, wealth, fame, all of those combine into something stronger. Shades of greed, it’s red—it has never belonged to passion, either way—, everything she sees is suddenly blurring into wanting more and more and more.
It’s dangerous to never get enough or have enough. She breathes more calmly the more she races, when she sees cars stepping behind her, when everything is about sensing where she is located. For a moment, she can’t help but smile. Those who criticized her would never realize that this, on itself, is a form of art. Racing includes the music of life—an engine, the cheering of the crowd; that makes her a performer. Racing also partakes in speed, precise enough to save her own life, the glide of her hands on the steering wheel leaving an imprint on the concrete. That makes her an artist.
At some point, it’s not about winning anymore. It’s about getting noticed in this unstoppable moment of life, so when she sees the endline, she blurs everyone that is around her. She has raced for the world to see, for TV programs to take her into consideration, for the first time she gets to be clapped at instead of called out for her irresponsibility. Her feet steps harder on the pedal, braving it all when she reaches the endline. Once her car comes to a halt, smoke trailing behind it, she gets out, taking off her helmet and inspecting everyone to be over Hoseok.
The Lee Hoseok, Formula One sweetheart, the man whose eyes are now on her when people rush towards her instead.
“And the Formula One welcomes a new winner…!” Someone announces in the background, in a microphone to be exact and when she feels herself being lifted into the air by her team, she parts her lips and lets out a squeal, hands pressing into her chest to revive herself.
It strangely feels like being born again, like she spoke into existence that she’d be someone of importance. It was either this or social death. The fight was worth going through, because for the first time in her life: she had an actual title.
Formula One winner. Not a disgrace of society that wants to destroy everything at her reach.
Heejung is the one to coach her through it; from the interviews to the actual presentation to the press. Most of the time, she clings into Heejung’s hand, trying not to speak atrocities and ruin her moment, but Hoseok is not too far away. Either way, winning or not, Hoseok had done excellently and money was still going to his bank account, leaving most people bitter at his loss—or almost winning, like some would call it. When questions are thrown his way, she turns to look at him, seated in the same stage as her, talking effortlessly and elegantly. He looks unbothered, throwing a few glances her way, parting his legs until his thighs are in contact with hers.
Winning recognition and money on the long run is one thing. There are things she wants in this life that are not worth money.
Hoseok, for example, is one of those desired adrenaline rushes she gets.
When the interview is over and she is about to go over to the parking lot to leave for a celebration with her team, she feels someone tugging at her arm, soon after her neck is caged under someone’s arm, strong, comfortable, quite cushion-y. The touch is foreign, making her look up to see Hoseok’s face, who chuckles at her reaction when he lets her go.
“Great game,” He starts. “Learn this date like the palm of your hand. You’ll want to remember the day you became a star.”
She laughs at that, nodding her head at his words. “First day of actually feeling like what I do is worth something.”
Hoseok’s eyes soften at that, his face turning to the side when flashes are felt around them. Someone must be taking pictures of the best two racers of the night. “You’ll be big, I can feel it. That arrogance you claim to have is only towards me, so I am guessing you’re just trying to tease me.” He says, observational of how she had been with everyone else.
“...You’re my biggest rival here, after all.”
“You mean to say: was?”
“You still are. I’ll see you next season”
He hums. “Why not see each other sooner?” The question is spoken into the air, his dark eyes looking into hers. Is brown the shade of wrong or right? Is a man with a smile like that, like he’ll take her breath away with a simple swoop of his lips against hers, troublesome or not? She can’t bring herself to care, much less when she nears him, placing a hand over his arm and dragging it down until it cages his in a faint hold, letting go as she speaks.
“What are you prompting?” She questions, watching the tips of Hoseok’s ears turning red.
“A race...but with dinner before that, and possibly no race at all.” He makes himself crack up, earning a laugh from her own as she nods her head.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re just scared I’ll win again.”
“I’ve won against you once already.” He prompts, something that has her shrugging.
“Guess we’ll have to figure out with another race...with dinner before that, though.” She says, not noticing that Hoseok’s team is nearby, howling at the words in between them, exchanged playfully.
“Wonho has got a crush!”
“Get it, Hoseok!”
Hoseok extends his hand, almost business-like. “So, a race...not a date?”
She grasps his hand, shaking it with a smile on her face. “A race, not a date.” She conquers, placing her hands behind her back and moving backwards, once again. Why can’t she just turn her back to him. “You already have my number. Give me the details, okay?”
...Because this is definitely a race, not a date.
🚗
“I’ll be leaving early today, okay?”
Heejung, still face-deep in the hood of a car, questions the sound of her voice. “Huh? Why’s that? You always stay at night. It’s not like you like going home early, either way.”
Reaching for the zipper of her overalls, she lets the fabric pool at her feet as it slides down her body, showcasing a much more casual, less mechanic fit. A blouse, some jeans, nothing necessarily fancy. “Who said I’m going home?” She asks Heejung, more like tutting her, something that has the older woman sighing.
“Where are you going?” Heejung asks, pushing her bleached hair away from her shoulders before smacking her hand against the hood of that car. That dent must be driving her crazy.
“Out on a date.”
Deafening silence, that’s to be expected. Heejung is not a dictator in their friendship, but her years of living has led her to be much like a mother-figure. When she plays with the edge of her hair, almost like a kid would, she realizes that Heejung is just doing that—taking care of her. The woman in question turns around, letting out an exasperated sigh when she actually studies her expression, knowing everything about her with a simple stare.
The thing is: she is not complicated. A risk-taker? Absolutely, a hundred percent, but not difficult to understand. She doesn’t have a routine, but she’s predictable. She’ll do what makes her feel the best that day; she’ll drive herself around, perhaps look for new people to meet, study some more of the science of cars to get herself as much information as possible. Heejung knows this, knows that she seeks for thrill in fear of ever becoming forgettable enough to just find her life to be the same. Each and every single day.
It’s strange, how she battles fear with more fear by living off adrenaline.
“Oh no, baby, I know that look. You’re going out on a date with Wonho, aren’t you?”
“It’s not a matter of who I go out on a date with, Heejung. You’ve said it yourself, I need to get away from always seeking danger and take part of more normal life experiences—”
Heejung sighs at that, fixing her hair as she rests her weight against the dented hood. “No, I know you. You’re doing this, unconsciously, thinking about how hot it would be with your competition in the industry. About how everything is fun and explosive and passionate. You want to have fun, you don’t want to date.” Those words sting at the back of her head, like a punch that has been delivered and it is even worse that it comes from her everything. Heejung is such a necessary part of her life that had she been gone, she wouldn’t know where to stand.
With bitterness settling on her tongue, she speaks out. “What is love about, then? Is it about being boring? Sitting around and not finding anything interesting on the other person other than just finding someone to be there with you? There should be emotion in everything we do.” And maybe her passion is the reason of her love life. She can’t handle routines, the boringness of someone that stops caring, stops loving as hard. The start should not be better than the end, ever.
“...That’s the thing, you have fun in obsessive ways. Not now, at least, but I fear for your safety.” Heejung admits, crossing her arms over her chest to keep her poise. “I’m older than you—”
“That doesn’t give you the right to treat me like a child. I may be messy sometimes, but I know what I’m doing.” This is the part of her that always brings her to be more reckless. People treat her as if enjoying life is her way of being irresponsible, as if she could never make a serious decision, guided by stronger beings than her. She hasn’t had it easy and she has been able to get through it, what is there to prove after that?
“Listen, you’re in your rise to fame now. People are noticing you for your racing,” Heejung, always poised, says in his normal voice. She never curses, never does anything to make it seem as if she is not perfect in every way. That is what has always calmed her down, but she still did not treat Heejung differently if she made a mistake. That is what she is looking for...and sadly, she’d never get. “And you have the celebrity personality. I fear that once you have enough money, you’re going to get addicted to feeling. Celebrities are problematic because they need attention; they need to smoke more than anyone, drink more than anyone, have more sex than any normal human being—”
“You know me, I wouldn’t do that.”
“But I still feel like you shouldn’t go out on a date with Hoseok.” She reasons, though her voice lifts at that. “You’re two fires trying to get together, that just creates a bigger fire and once you dull, there is no way you’re staying. I don’t want you to have your heart broken, because I know you when you get too over excited.” Heejung gets closer to her, blinking rapidly at her friend. “I just know you’ll end up disappointed.”
She looks over to the side, trying not to stare forward. Heejung would want to reason with her and this is just her reality—she wants to go out on a date with Hoseok. Wanted, she desires to feel like; to have someone that understands her. Not a man that asks her to slow down, not a man that shakes her head at her give-it-all-or-lose-it-all personality. Hoseok looked at her, heard her speak with such faux confidence in order to push herself out there, with competition lingering in her tongue, and he still felt attracted to her. He didn’t want to dull her, if anything, he wanted to brighten her up.
“Heejung, I just want to fucking live my life.” Her voice has softened, looking into her friend’s eyes as she reaches forward to push at her arm, almost hesitantly, trying to lighten up the mood. “When I’m older, I want to say I lived. I’m not saying Hoseok is a forever, what I’m saying is that he is who I want right now. For sex or for love, I have to judge that for my own.”
“I just want you to settle down for once.” Heejung whispers. “You’ll end up hurt.”
“You can scold me if that happens,” She says, feeling her phone vibrating inside her pocket and getting it out to see a text from Hoseok. He’s outside, waiting for her. “But for now, Jung, I’m an adult. I don’t need the parenting.”
The glide of her car keys being tossed towards Heejung’s extended hands has the older woman sighing, nodding her head along to her words in a way to showcase her support. More like hidden disappointment, the one that shows she’ll be waiting there whatever happens. “Text me when it’s over, alright?”
Once outside, the dark night engulfs her when it matches the sight of Hoseok’s car, perfectly parked in front of her workplace. It’s a Lamborghini, not to be expected from him to have something cheap or slow, and she doesn’t blame him for it. Her hands trail over the car, smiling at the beaming surface before opening the door. Hoseok lifts his gaze from his phone, then, widening his eyes at the sight of her before he gives one of those infamous smile.
How does Heejung expect her ignore Lee Hoseok? Not the angel of races, but the person himself. She wants to get to know the reason as to why someone like her could bring such brightness out of him. An asshole, that she is; not a heartbreaker per say, just viewing life differently, to test it and enjoy it. Maybe, Heejung is right; people like them are meant to create bigger fires to be turned to dust by someone else, but for now, Hoseok is the person that makes her feel like there is not a burning feeling with fire.
It’s warm. People forget that fire was once looked for thanks to the lack of warmth.
“Hi,” She says, putting the seat belt over her body and studying him. Not his body, but the way he stares at her with a smile on his face, blinking once before letting out a soft sigh.
“You’re gorgeous tonight.” He says before stopping himself, blowing out a raspberry out of frustration. “Not tonight only, though, you are always extremely pretty and funny—”
“I’ll take that as a compliment because I damn right do not look quite as good as you look. Much less with my work clothes.” She compliments, pressing one hand to Hoseok’s shoulder. “So, where are you taking me?”
“...We said dinner.” He continues, all radiance when he starts the car. “For tonight, we’re not two racers in a car but we’re normal people. I’ll drive safely, take you out to dinner and try not to choke on my food from how absolutely beautiful you are.”
“Hoseok, that’s corny, come on.” She pushes, earning laughter from his part.
“Expect more of that through the night.”
“Lucky me,” She rolls her eyes, though a smile plants itself on her face. The growth of being around him, supposedly. “I’ll have a comedy sketch done with the amount of corny lines.”
“I’m ready for it.”
It’s not that the date is perfect, that the place is as inherently expensive as she expected it to be with Lee Hoseok, as rich as he is, it’s the fact that it isn’t. The wine isn’t tastier than any other one that she has, the music isn’t fancier or more on the classic side, the people aren’t socialites with tight dress and huge bank accounts. It’s not the food that is served in fresh plates with smoke coming out of them to indicate how hot they are and it’s not the taste, though magnificent, of the meal she is having along with Hoseok. It’s the man that makes it so memorable, the conversation that never stops, the way she has her head thrown back with laughter the more he tries to joke around. Something connects, like dots in space, like the moles on his face.
Hoseok talks about his tastes; what music he likes, how he listens to it, how he’ll never get used to travelling but how much he loves it. How he’d prefer a bathrobe over any kind of pajamas and how working out, for him, is more than just looking good but feeling good. This makes her feel at ease—someone else enjoys life for what it is, freedom. Someone else can laugh freely with her, can make her feel like she is not judged, and that person is no other than Lee Hoseok.
Flirting is a necessity with him, in the way she looks at him and how sometimes she catches herself sighing out loud at the mere sound of his voice, not for its tone but for what he says. He is not the typical celebrity, much less is he obsessed with being first place. He has surprised her quite thoroughly. Her hand sometimes dances along to his skin when he feeds her something, or when he holds it over the table and these are the particular things that have her heart racing.
Sometime when his fries are long gone, Hoseok licks his grease-coated lips and sighs. “Why did you decide to become a racer? Like, where did it all start?”
She toys with her fries as she dips them on tomato sauce, puckering up her lips and letting out a short chuckle. “It’s funny because it happened when I was around sixteen. My friend had a car, her grandma’s old car, and she was wanted to go out on a date but she didn’t know shit about driving...so I took her there, I learned then and there.” She smiles at the imagery, the young days of enjoying trying something new and perhaps sucking at it, but having fun along the way. “...But then I hung around other people, and more problematic people at that and that’s when I started to race. They used me to test cars and whatnot, because I was just the youngest of the group and wasn’t as important.” Hoseok raises his eyebrows at that, clearly hurt by the way she spoke.
“They should have never done that.”
“I didn’t know better, I just wanted to have fun. At the time, I guess I trusted them enough to know I wouldn’t die...but who knows? I could’ve.” She finishes, finally plopping the fry inside her mouth before speaking with her mouth full. “What about you?”
“I learned how to drive when I was thirteen,” He says, biting down on his bottom lip when he recalls the memory. “Well, kind of, I asked my mom to let me drive her to grocery store and after so much begging, she let me...but, I didn’t do it again until I got older and she wanted me to drive her everywhere. I became a chauffeur, then tried out for legal racing matches because I...needed the money.” Well, in reality she had always expected Hoseok to be more like her. She did it because she wanted to, but with the way his voice lowers, grows tinier in comparison, maybe that wasn’t the case. “I got denied from college, I couldn’t afford going and my job was a mess since I was a waiter so...I raced, got my ass kicked a hundred times, tried again. After some years, I finally made enough money to never worry about going back to that state again.”
Her hand reaches forward, the smile now off her face when she says: “You’ve been an inspiration for many, Hoseok.”
“Wonho has.”
“You’re Wonho, though.” She tells him, reassuringly, looking over at him before sighing through her nose. “Kids and teenagers alike think you are so cool. They see you and they see confidence and racers fear you, they know you’re talented and great with publicity—I feared you, in some way.” Though, by the way he looks at her, the lights of the restaurant casting over his face, she can sense his mood being lifted up.
“You weren’t scared of me,” He says. “You crushed me from the day we met.”
“I like to assert dominance, yes.” She tilts her head to the side, pondering the options of the first time they met. “But it’s because you were so great at everything, I was triggered. Great at everything and the greatest looking man I’ve seen in a while. I was offended.”
Hoseok chuckles at that, reaching forward until he is wiping some of the tomato sauce on her lip with a napkin. “I was terrified. I thought my working out routine was good until you almost made me fall with a handshake.”
“Oh come on, I wasn’t that rough.”
“You were.”
Looking up, albeit a bit innocently or feigning to be, she speaks in a softer tone. “Sorry. I may have been a bit tough, but you liked me like that.”
“I definitely did.” Hoseok says, lifting his glass of wine up in the air. “For the woman I knew was going to win against me from the moment I met her.”
“Pfft,” She scoffs, lifting her glass as well and clinking it against his. “You’re saying that just because.”
“...Let me just compliment you.”
“I’d—Okay, yes, you knew I was going to win.”
With the chemistry building inside of them, the faint drinks leaving her with a buzzing feeling by the time she is back in his car and being driven home, she thinks that at the least of possibilities, he is going to kiss all the dizziness away, tipsy feelings gone when his rosy lips rest upon hers and part at the same time, in a rhythm, like he wants to take her breath away and take her out again. One of his hands rest on the steering wheel, the other playing with the edge of her fingers, like he is speaking and doing it without thought, and she can’t bring herself to say anything.
Not when he is complimenting the date, talking about how much he enjoyed it—enjoyed her. Coming closer is the answer, finally engulfing his palm in her warmth when she leans forward to whisper her goodbyes and instead of receiving a kiss as a gift, all she gets is the drunken truth of a whispered goodbye and a smile. He doesn’t try anything more than a pat on the head and that is enough to have her squinting.
Getting out of the car, she even turns around in case he is rushing behind her to give her a kiss but then, she realizes he is waiting for her to get inside.
...He is being respectful, though his obvious attraction is clear even to her, he is being nice.
He’s waiting, for her, for a kiss, for the perfect time to leave. He’s patient, he’s the slow-burn everyone talks about.
She looks ahead once again, letting some oxygen in before releasing it. Strangely enough, all frustration is washed from her body to be replaced with acceptance. Time will bloom what needs to grow at its own time.
🚗
Contrary to what one would believe coming from her, subsidiary bad girl in what the general term means, she enjoys the tranquil night she gets to spend with Hoseok a few weeks later. Was it a week? Because it felt like a longer time had passed by. In the comfort of their hushed conversations, seated on her couch as they watched those movies that he claims are too good to dismiss—action-based, he really likes those, but with a lingering meaning of loyalty and friendship in the back of it all, she finds enjoyment.
Hoseok, even when he cooked for her with all the might in the world, wanting nothing more than for her to try his instant noodles and to watch how fast he is at chopping, is the color red. He’s fast, passionate, enough to take her breath away when she leans on the counter and watches him work, hears him speak about this movie that he wants to watch with her—Kingsman, he claims she’d like it and she is not one to sit down and watch movies when she could be out and about doing something, but for him, she’d do it.
Because Hoseok can bring feelings even in the most mundane of actions. He can speak with such interest that it clings to her soul, leads her closer and closer until she wishes he could finally act upon their attraction, their devilish need to just kiss each other until they burned. It couldn’t be that he is not interested, she guesses, but the green body of insecurity bites at the back of her brain. She is used to men that take the first step on the very first moment, not to the beauty of him as he takes the time to feed her, to have her tasting what he is cooking beforehand so it is just the right amount of spice for her.
Liking him is all about going forward, not caring that there are no brakes to step on. She wants fast, she wants breathtaking, she wants Lee Hoseok to make her feel like life is slow when in reality she is just an explosion waiting to be ignited.
“I’m not boring you with movies, am I?” He asks after they ate, barely getting through half the movie he was talking about before they had decided to clean up. A lot of mess was caused thanks to the popcorn, the snacks and the food. His elbow rests against the counter, red shirt cladding to his body, matching the rosiness of his pout.
“No,” She confesses, laughing as she splashes water over the plate she is washing. It’s so filled with soy sauce and spices that she is not sure how she’ll get it off. “Strangely enough, I have enjoyed something that I never do. I rarely sit down and use my TV, but with you...it’s fun.”
“I’m glad.” Hoseok says, making her turn to look at him when she feels his gaze inspecting her facial features. She is not exactly the most gorgeous of people tonight, for Hoseok had crashed too suddenly, leaving her more casual than elegant or ready to seduce him. However, his brown eyes concentrate on the color of her eyes, on the depth of her nose, the curve of it, the shine on the bridge, the curve of her lips and even to her jaw before looking back up once again. “If you’re wondering, I’m having an excellent time.”
“...Huh.” She whispers, licking her lips and swallowing thickly when she feels the dangerous side of Hoseok upon her, the one that Heejung advices her to get away from. The trapping point of him that has her in his arms in no time, could she do such thing without feeling a bit insecure, the moment in which she wonders if Hoseok is as innocent as he makes himself to be or he simply wants to prolong the moment, increase the tension, make her nals cling to her skin in hopes of breathing properly. No one has ever had this power over her. “Well, that’s good news...”
Hoseok gets closer to her, like a repetition of events, lips parting and eyes falling a bit, his eyelids fluttering when he leans forward and has her thinking that a kiss will land upon her lips, finally changing their red and beige to the whole rainbow. Instead, the wet kiss is placed upon her chin, making her open her eyes and frown when she realizes that Hoseok had not intended to give her a kiss—
Instead, he childishly kissed her chin.
Is this a new type of affection she has not known about?
Hoseok’s cheeks flush at that, clearing his throat when he pulls away and laughs about something he is thinking before straightening his back. “I’ll—Uh, I’ll serve us some soda while you finish there.”
She inspects his back as he moves towards her refrigerator, releasing a sigh when she says: “You’re so strange, Lee Hoseok.”
“Did you say something?”
“Nothing.”
Her nerves are in endless synapse when she is seated by his side again, legs sprawled over his lap, his hands caressing her calves and making sure she feels comfortable. The air conditioner is suddenly not enough to calm down the heat that exists around her, in tneed of being closer and closer, catching a few glimpses of the expression of Hoseok’s face, barely illuminated by the television device. He’s calm, she can tell, but he’s deep in his thoughts, much like herself, only making comments ever so briefly, something about the silence being absolutely shattering.
The movement of her legs must have caught his attention, turning to his side when he notices her trying to get out of the fluffy blanket that covered her body. “I’m suffocating here.” She adds in a funny tone, perhaps to break through the tension, and it seems to do the trick. Hoseok takes the edge of the blanket in between his fingers, trying to pull at it and get it off her body.
“Sorry, I think I wrapped you up too tightly.” Hoseok says, reminiscent of earlier that night when he had insisted on wrapping her up nicely, almost tucking her by his side. The touch of his hands around her shoulders has her breathing out a laugh.
“You wanted to turn me into a burrito.”
“I like those.” He comments, raising his eyebrows teasingly before she hits his chest. At that moment, time stops and the movie talks in the background, some action scene that would have caught his attention had his body not been immensely close to hers, her hand caressing just above his heart, ready to cage it in a tight grip and pull it away. His eyes do that thing that he is used to, studying from up close, ready to flirt but not voicing it out.
“Don’t do that,” She whispers, though her voice gives away that she is sarcastically adding the comment. “Looking at me like that...do you like what you see that much?” She tries to play, though her voice is tiny when Hoseok learns forward.
“Wasn’t it obvious?” He asks in between a laugh. “I’ve been flirting with you since the moment I met you.”
“I noticed.”
“Then...”
Hoseok gets even closer, burning with the need to kiss her when she closes her eyes tightly. The knotted thread of the story seems to be here, the moment in which she finally gets what she wanted from the beginning—to feel the romance in him. Nonetheless, the air is electrifying, too much to bear when the tip of his fingers caress over her shoulder, wraps around her ribcage and tries to place a kiss on her lips, only for them to turn mistakenly and bump noses.
“Ow!” She hisses, opening her eyes and getting to see Hoseok holding his nose, rolling his eyes at the destiny of it all.
“For fuck’s sake—”
The sentence is cut short when she takes him by the back of his neck, knowing that when things weren’t done correctly, she has to take matters in her own hands. The right answer is to press her lips to his, so quickly that she hears his breath halter, only letting go a few seconds later when he relaxes that hand on her ribcage, the other creating patterns on her nape. Hoseok tastes sweet, beyond the food they had, he tastes like victory, like another dream that she has made true. The way he kisses her, fast-paced and yet so precise, shows experience, thoughtful, a natural in movement when his lips part and he takes no time to deepen the kiss, to reach her heart, to grasp her soul. For the first time, she realizes that much like herself, Hoseok can have the upperhand of his decisions, as well.
Her legs, half on the couch and half on his lap, end up resting around his waist, trying to bring him closer to her and taste more of him. His breath ghosts over her lips, making her breathe harshly to catch her energy back. Demonic, he seems like, in the way he simply can take everything away from her and then give it back with a smile.
“Sorry for all the failed attempts.” Hoseok apologizes, having her laughing when she leans back on the couch, bringing him down with her and trailing her hands down his shoulders, grasping the muscles at his arms, wanting to be caged in the twisted world of falling for him. Soon after, she seeks for his heart, his chest, expands her hands and looks up at him through her eyelashes.
“It took you long enough to land a kiss.”
“Huh, it must’ve been life telling you that anyone would love to kiss me.”
“I never doubted that,” She replies, letting out a sigh when she traces his collarbones with her fingertips. “But, for now, I’m the only one kissing you.”
“Then, do it.” He says, biting down on his lip. “You never hesitate, why now?”
Falling for him is a challenge, not because it is difficult but because he invites her in with playful banter in between, like they want to see who will be able to fall in too deep the fastest. It’s fun, much more when his lips reconnect with hers. Not only fire, like Heejung claims for them to be, but water, air, earth and so much more. It’s second-nature to kiss him, it’s all she wants to do for that night.
🚗
“...So, basically, you have to twist this piece here. Not too harshly, though, you can break it.”
Hoseok chuckles at her words. “Tell that to the muscly man? How original.”
“I’m just instructing you. You were the one that told me you wanted me to teach you how to repair cars.”
“It was an excuse to get your attention.”
“How original.”
To have Hoseok there, in the place in which she feels the most like herself, is just another reminder of how close it feels to have him in her heart. Fearful, strangely enough she is not, but she clings to this moment like she is afraid she’ll lose it. Hoseok has earned such a spot in her tongue that she can’t start a sentence without thinking of him, she can’t wake up without the need to feel his lips, even like an addiction, far more like appreciation. Her phone is never dull anymore, much less is she lonely when Heejung, Leo and the rest of the workers are gone to their houses and she stays behind.
She had never realized how unaccompanied she felt, why she always seeked for more and more adventures to have, in order to gain attention or perhaps, keep someone in there taking care of her. Not that she needs it, she just wants to be able to have someone by her side. Heejung is her friend, but Hoseok willingly stays with her—he talks about her existence like it is beauty sent by the heavens itself, as if there will never be a woman as brave, as valient, as intelligent...when she has always been the exact opposite for someone else. He says it so truthfully, looks at her with such sensitivity, that one would think he feels the same again.
Someone once told her to wait for her twenties, the golden age of youth. The moment in which nothing matters other than feeling alive, and you can do it with people judging you...but it will never matter enough. She feels as though no one had truly looked at her and thought she’d be more than just a die-hard; but Hoseok does. In that smile that he always has plastered, in the feeling of his arm around her waist, in the way he listens and listens and never judges...that is when she realizes she may be falling for him.
Part of her thinks that her golden age must consist of medals, awards, gold, money—it should never have to deal with love, but it’s difficult when Hoseok dizzies her, moves fast enough in his own methodical way that she can only stare in adoration as he takes her spot in front of the car and does exactly as she had instructed. Plenty of times had she liked someone, in a moment or for longer, never had she felt so strongly, so desperately. It’s no wonder she ends up wrapping her arms around his waist, hips pressed to his snugly, lips searching for the curve of his neck before planting a kiss there.
Hoseok doesn’t budge, still doing as he was told, when he finally talks again: “Uh...love, I have a question.” That nickname, so incredibly cheesy for her in the past, is now the only way she can ever imagine being called by him, a few weeks after their first kiss.
Trailing her hands over his abdomen, soothingly and teasingly, she hums. “I may have an answer. Unless it’s educational stuff, I don’t have an answer for most of those.”
Joy fills him with his laughter, captivating when he shakes his head. “I was wondering if you imagined yourself repairing cars as a job for the entirety of your life. Is this what you want to do now that you’re a racer? Like, a legit one?”
There is no judgement in his tone, but what he says has her thinking. Repairing cars has always been a passion of hers and the conclusive feeling of getting it done is exhilarating. That doesn’t mean...she would have to get a paycheck out of it forever. “...Well, most things don’t last forever either way.” She wants to say ‘nothing lasts forever’ but why is it so difficult to voice it out now? “As long as I am able to help my team with money, I would leave. If not, I’d stay.”
“You’re so caring.” Hoseok says, pulling away from the car and closing the hood with a loud thud. She continues to cling to his waist, hands sprawled over his skin, when he tumbles over to the backseat of the car. “I don’t blame you. You have your family here—Heejung cares about you as if you were her little sister.”
“That’s because I am,” She replies, aware that Heejung wouldn’t be her happiest had she known that Hoseok would be here. This fear she has of her falling in love with Hoseok is palpable through every advice that is thrown her way.
“Aren’t you letting go of me?”
“You’re expecting me to let go of a man like this?” She asks, hearing his loud laughter when he turns around and presses his back to the car, hands trailing up and down her extended arms. Something about the warmth of him reminds her of the start of a car—once she begins, she never stops, she likes the drive, enjoys it, prolongs it… “So sweet. I literally have never met a man like you.”
“Thank you.” His eyes look down at her lips, pressing a short kiss there before sighing. “Aren’t we going to try the car?”
She raises her eyebrows at that, reaching for the handle of the car and pushing his weight forward before jutting her chin towards the backseat. “We can try the car, why not?”
The expression he gives is of absolute surprise, the tips of his ears reddening when laughter can’t help but be released. Something about Hoseok is lively, not innocent, simply adoring of the life that surrounds him and when the moments of enchantment come over to him, he wants them to exist forever. “Huh, I wonder how we’re trying the car out.”
“We’ll make sure it’s comfortable.” She teases back, taking his face in between her hands and pressing an elongated, delicate kiss, one that has her releasing a breath when she pulls away from him. “If you want, of course.”
Hoseok lifts his body from the ground, standing on his tiptoes and looking around before letting his weight fall on the cushions of the backseat. “No one is going to come here?”
“Nope.” She replies, settling her body over his and pressing a short kiss to his lips. Something about him makes her feel even more alive than usual, as if life has never been this pretty in the past. “...Do you want to?”
His hands expand on her hips, nodding his head. “I’m not sure how your customer would react if they knew—”
“They won’t know.”
“...And that’s the fun.” Hoseok says, leaning back on the seat and letting her chest collide against his, his legs dangling outside of the vehicle before letting his lips drag from hers to her jaw, nipping at the skin softly, the contact of his soft flesh against her cheeks, her jaw and her neck bringing a smile to her face. “More of a reason to want to make you my girlfriend.”
Her hands trail over his shoulders, humming in delight at the sound of his voice, her heart palpitating faster than ever now that she recognizes those words. Seriousness, commitment, things that she would have never considered in the past but now have her chuckling against all the odds. There is only one year like this one, she’ll only be able to live this moment once...and why not enjoy it to its fullest potential?
The type to go all out, she interlocks her fingers with his before nodding. “Well, make me your girlfriend, then.”
Hoseok pulls away at that, eyes twinkling when he asks: “You want to?”
“Yes...” She whispers, feeling Hoseok turn her around until her back collided against the seat, hearing his hiss when he hits his head on the roof, the atmosphere switching from deep to absolute lightweight when she cackles at his antics. “And even more for that. I like me some fun in my life.”
“Alright, alright, don’t make fun of your new boyfriend like that.” Hoseok conquers, making her smile when she looks up at him.
This age of youth doesn’t sound so bad when he is there to accompany her.
🚗
The history of secrecy is simple, easy, created by two people, four matching eyes, two eloquent minds that think outing a briefly created relationship to the world of racing seems like an unprofessional move. The argument is secure—a month of a relationship may seem like the blooming period of the honeymoon phase, the reason why there is a smile always on her face and why there may be a waltz to her step, but from this point on, Hoseok is Wonho and she is the up-and-coming racer that everyone is seemingly talking about. Attending the same event at the same time is more of a reason to pretend they don’t know each other.
Well, more like pretending like this rivalry they had is still palpable and it has not obviously translated into romantic and sexual tension, now in the form of a relationship.
So far, so good, she tells herself as she brings her bottle of soda up to her lips—a soda brand is now her sponsor, there is something about drinks that gravitate heavily towards her team. Heejung is prideful, at least, the frown that had been given to her when she admitted to her relationship with Hoseok now changed into more of a smile. Her career is going good, not skyrocketing, but definitely not staying behind, sporting better uniforms, earning more money than she ever has, leaving all headaches behind and basking into the moment. She wants to enjoy it to utter perfection.
Not to say that it has ever been easy, much less when she realizes just how quickly she has to turn into a normal public figure. Be gone the honesty that characterizes her, now exchanged for the smile on her face as she gives that fake, athlete voice that showcases her as confident and overly spectacular in ever sense. All that leaves her mouth are brand names, the more well-known the better, the higher the price the more interesting. It is something that she doesn’t get used to, but someone else definitely has done the same thing and excelled at it.
Her fingers scratch the back of her head, pressing her face to Leo’s shoulder when she lets out a raged sigh. “I’m so tired. The flashes of the cameras are ruining my vision. I feel like I can’t see from one eye,” She confesses, though she is not one to bask on what bothers her, if the sun is too hot, she’ll only learn how to get used to it.
“Heejung, can’t we give her a break?”
“We cou—”
“No, I’m fine. I was just saying.” She finishes, lifting her face and jutting her chin out in pride before moving her head over her shoulder. “I only get an opportunity to get my dream coming true, so I’ll do my best at it.” The older woman puckers her lips up at that, staring down at her notebook before sighing deeply.
“Are you sure?” She asks, but before the racer could come up with an answer, she interrupts her. This is not a life that she is used to—behind a steering wheel, she is more at ease, controlling her own life, but the reigns of the press are taken by the masses, by the criticism, where being so much as a woman in an industry like the one she is in is already a downside, wrongly judged, stereotyped, definitely old-school and distasteful. “Listen, I love you, you know this already...but I need you to tell me when this gets to be too much.”
She walks forward, not knowing exactly where to go in this big event, where the food is too expensive to ever be worth eating and all she can do is think about sitting down in the comfort of her home and having the biggest slice of cake to celebrate another paycheck for this sponsorship. “It’s never too much for me.”
Heejung tugs at her arm, bringing her back with a serious expression on her face. “Clearly. You know I don’t like that mindset.” Though, she still moves her towards somewhere, perhaps looking for another interviewer in such a place. “I’m going to tell your little boyfriend to take care of you more often.”
“He takes care of me, Heejung.” She adds with an eye-roll, aware of Heejung’s hatred towards the man. “You just expect me to date a carbon copy of Leo.”
“You’d be lucky.” Heejung prompts, only to click her pen against her notebook quickly. “We don’t have an interview scheduled, but I heard we’d find Mr. Hong around here—”
Her attention diverted towards the group of people in front of her, all belonging to the team of the grand Wonho. She gives a tight lipped smile to Hoseok’s manager, to which she gets no other than a nod before she has to gravitate towards looking for him. Her gaze falls on his height, his stance, how he seems to be so fitted to be in front of a camera. It loves him, just like how she can’t get him out of her brain, wanting nothing more than to wrap her arms around his waist and seek for the comfort of him, the warmth he radiates from within.
Instead, she has to stay back, only being called when one of the reporters call for her name, making her widen her eyes as she looks between the cameras and her manager. Heejung whispers in her ear: “That’s Mr. Hong’s program. Go over there.”
“But—”
“Remember, keep the rivalry in between the two.”
No more is told until she confidently struts forward, not wanting to be seen like one to back down from anything. Once by Hoseok’s side, the cameras flash once again, the one recording pointed at the duo as a microphone gets closer to her lips. Her name is called and she can’t help but smile, this is exactly what she has dreamed about the entirety of her life. “...We were impressed by your performance in this season of the Formula One. Anything new planned?”
She leans towards the microphone, looking up at the camera with a smile on her face. “What is there not to be planned? Man, I’m going to be everywhere. You will not get to see the end of me.”
The interviewer, Mr. Hong apparently, now pushes the microphone towards Hoseok, tensing the atmosphere around them when he asks: “Wonho, we’ve seen you grow up in this field and you were beaten by a newbie in the industry. Do you think it’s safe to say you’ve been won over by a woman because of lack of preparation or because, for the first time, a woman is sufficient enough to be a racer?”
A woman, such a powerful title and yet dismissed as nothing in this athletic world. Hoseok’s lips part, looking over at her with absolute remorse, like he can’t hear those words without feeling bad for her. Though, she is not one that needs protection, instead speaking loudly, though the microphone barely captures her voice. “What the fuck does that question even mean?”
Mr. Hong pays her no mind, instead, settled on getting an interview with Hoseok. The man sends an apologetic gaze her way and she knows Hoseok will find a way out of this. “I don’t think...It has nothing to do with her being a woman. She’s just great. We—Uh, in this industry racers have to learn that we are not endless. Sometimes, someone will win over us.”
“Doesn’t seem like there is much of a rivalry in between you two like the headlines said? Have you gotten over the comparison in between the two? Have you settled on any thoughts about her?”
She doesn’t know why those questions sting, why she suddenly wants to take the microphone and curse at everyone. They want her for the drama, for being Hoseok’s little rival, for the laughs when she gets made fun of. She raises her eyebrows, staring at the side of Hoseok’s face waiting for him to say something. He blinks quickly before a small smile appears on his face. “Uh...I think I can accept someone’s hard work and passion past whatever my thoughts are about that racer.”
“But she’s known as your arch-enemy—”
Taking the microphone in between her hands and tugging it away, she finally speaks into it to defend herself, making sure that she is making herself loud and clear. “You want entertainment? Watch the motherfucking races. I don’t need to be treated like this,” She extends her hand, pointing at the interviewer. “Yes, I am a woman. Yes, I won against Wonho. Is that your problem? Did you bet on Wonho and that’s why you’re so pissy about it? I don’t give two shits about your show, you don’t get to talk that way to me or anyone.” She replies, making sure to throw the microphone at the man’s chest before turning around, hands shaking and legs moving far too quickly as she gets out of there as soon as possible. Heejung follows right behind her, calling her name out loudly.
The patter of the rain over her uniform, her body, is enough to have her freezing when Heejung trails after her best friend. “...Honey, listen to me. Hey, come here!”
She turns around, taking Heejung by the hands and looking into her eyes. “What are you going to tell me, huh?! That I needed to be more feminine, less vulgar, more smiley? I am tired of the interviews. I don’t want to be a product if that means having to be judged by everything I do—!”
“You’ve always been judged, you know this.” Heejung tries to reason with her but she shakes her head, biting down on her bottom lip as she feels it quiver.
She always has, for being irresponsible, for taking things too lightly. “Yes, but I thought I could be myself here. I thought I’d finally be able to stop hearing the fucking scolding about how I need to change. What is there to change?”
Heejung’s fingers grasp at her arm when she is trying to leave. “We’ll figure it out. We just need to talk to them. We have to show them you’re the good one of this story—”
“No,” She says, tugging her arm away from her friend’s hold. She goes over to her car, feeling her phone vibrate inside her pocket and she reaches for it once she is inside, though she keeps the door open to talk to Heejung. “I don’t want to go back there. I’m—” She looks down at her phone, watching Hoseok’s name as he texts her again and again.
“Wait for me.”
“Love, let’s talk.”
“I’m so sorry they treated you like that.”
“I’m staying here.” She finishes after reading the text messages, leaning back on her seat and watching Heejung get dripped by the water outside. “Hoseok wants to talk to me.”
“As he should,” Heejung breathes out, patting her hand against the roof of her car. “I’ll try to fix your career out there, alright?”
“Good luck.” She adds with an eye-roll, hands fiddling with the edge of the door and closing it when Heejung runs inside, welcomed by her husband with an umbrella already opened for her.
That is the type of love Heejung has always wanted for her; trustful, honest, crafted by time. She is not sure if she deserves it, for she has never taken anyone seriously—not until Hoseok, whose life could never connect to hers, everyone would dismiss him as weak and she would be seen ike a tick trying to get the blood of her opponent. She leans back on her seat, arms crossed over her chest as she feels her head fuming with anger. Everything burns, even when it is cold, even the radio has her angry when she pushes the button to turn it off.
In the matter of seconds, the figure of Hoseok rushing under the rain towards her car is enough for her to open the door, wait for him and see him slip inside. His hair is clinging to his forehead, black strands as dark as his eyes when he stares at her.
“I’m sorry.” The promise shouldn’t be quite as infuriating, but she nods her head, dismissing it as if it was nothing that he had said. “Hey, I mean it, I am really sorry. I should have said something else but I have never been asked questions like that—”
She leans her head on her hand, letting out an enraged sigh. “It’s okay, I didn’t expect it either.” She grumbles, biting on the inside of her cheek before slapping her hand against the steering wheel softly. “I’m just tired of being seen as less than you. As if I’m worse. We shouldn’t be compared.”
Hoseok hums at that, running his hands through his hair and pushing it back. “Yeah, that’s right, because we should be equals. We are both talented.”
Something overtakes her, blinking rapidly and engaging her jaw in a tight hold when she turns to look at him. “Is that it? You also don’t think I could be better than you sometimes? That’s why you didn’t say anything?”
Hoseok’s plush lips moisten themselves, newfound anger found on his features when he speaks up. “I didn’t say that, come on. We are a couple, we should be treated as the same—”
“But it sounds like you still can’t accept the fact that I can win, as well.” Her voice grows larger in tone, staring at him in disbelief when Hoseok lets out a scoff.
“Don’t scream at me, first off, you know I don’t like it when people argue like that—”
“I am not screaming at you!”
He raises his eyebrows, biting down on his bottom lip. Something inside of him is suddenly hurt, as if blood could pour out of his body at any time. “You know, it damn right sounds like you don’t ever want me to win a race again if you’re competing. I also have people working for me and a career to maintain, shouldn’t we just support each other and not mix our relationship with our job?”
“Oh my God, Hoseok, I’ve won against you once. You’ve won like a hundred times—”
“I know and I’m proud of you but—”
“No, you just want more money. You already have enough, why are you so pressed about me winning against you?”
He tugs his hair in between his hands, a reminder that Heejung had told her that two fires could only grow stronger together before everything dulled out for them. “I am not saying you can’t win against me. I’m just saying that it was wrong for them to treat you like that and that you are working hard. I also will do my best, you can’t expect me not to want to race anymore because you’re now in my picture.”
She lets out an enraged breath, loud enough to push the oyxgen out of her lungs as she starts the car. “I don’t want to argue with you anymore.”
“Okay.” Hoseok says, opening the door of the car and getting out. The action makes her soul ache, so he’d choose staying instead of going with her. “I’ll let you wind up and then, we’ll talk. Text me when you get home—”
“Of fucking course, you’re going to pick going back there.” She whispers, perhaps a bit tranced on what to do. She knows part of her is wrong, but she can’t bring herself to stop talking, in self-defense mode even against someone who cares deeply about her.
“Let’s just stop arguing.” Hoseok breathes out, not closing the door yet and for that with the opportunity to reach for her lips and give her a kiss. Something inside her tells her to pull away, moving her head to the side until his lips land on her cheek, the warmth of his breath against her skin when he sighs is enough for her to feel his disappointment. “Go home safely.”
“What a thing to tell a racer.” She whispers, guilt punching her in the gut when she watches the look of sadness on his face. Hoseok gets out of the car then, closing the door and walking away from the car as if it is meaningless.
It is not, but it feels like it is.
Even through this, she continues to love him, sends him that text and decides to ease through this fight. Maybe, they’ll get to get over it.
🚗
In the span of three months, everything can change.
She’d never realized how tiny her home was until she got a bigger one. How little she got paid until she got a bigger paycheck. She had never thought twice about how easy it was to feel alive when she did racing for fun, than in comparison to now, where everything is about competing. Three months and she has won races, lost them, gotten in, gotten out, and all that has remained the same has to be Lee Hoseok. Her boyfriend, fire that has become water, the waves clashing against each other, calming her down and bringing her to a state of endless relaxation.
Not to say it’s perfect...but the arguments that could ensue die down pretty quickly. Everything does with them. The passion is no longer living for the lifespan of hours, the kisses are softer now in comparison to how strong they used to be...it has changed, like it normally does with relationships, when the honeymoon phase starts to wear off and the love remains, exists, but it isn’t quite as palpable in the air.
Sometimes, she wonders if it is the fact that they are constantly asked about each other in public, from this supposed rivalry they have, that has desensitized their relationship. It has made them dull, wore them off, they have heard enough about the other to get tired, because it feels as though they come in pairs and not the best kind. People want them to be in a constant battle; they want to have a boxing match in a racing environment, she has heard enough about him and he has heard enough about her and while they know the truth, it is also difficult.
Because there is the terrible monster that is envy in the back of her head. Not of him, but of what she wishes they could be. A normal couple, they will never be, and if the news came out there that they are dating—everyone would want to tear them apart.
They’d call them a publicity stunt.
They’d call them liars.
Why is the world so difficult sometimes?
Putting her card down, she is reminded that she is playing poker with Heejung, seated in the mechanic shop she used to work at, now too busy to work there full time. The rough concrete digs in her skin through the fabric of her leggings, watching Heejung raise her eyebrows at the card before releasing a sigh. “Well, you’re playing even worse than usual...and you’re here instead of at Hoseok’s...what’s the matter?”
The matter is that it feels like she is not wanted, not loved, and it’s so stupid because the two of them do their best to show their appreciation for the other. It feels as though she is constantly competing, wanting to be better, stronger, wanting to win, win, win. The thirst for it has led her to change, the spark of mischief long gone for something...dull. She feels like she despises racing by now. “I’ve been ignoring his calls.”
“And why’s that?” Heejung asks, seated on Leo’s lap and being the epitome of happiness. They must have had their boring days...their nights in which they didn’t want to look at each other...and they got through it.
Could she get through this?
“I don’t know,” She says, dropping the cards to her lap and rubbing her hands against her aching eyes. Everything feels to be a thousand times more stressing than it was at the beginning. On any other night, she would have said how much she loved him—because she does, with every bit of herself, and being bored of someone who you love is not the right way to go. “I’m...All we seem to talk about is racing, and you know how I’ve been feeling about that lately.”
Leo, for the first time in his life, stops siding with her as he wraps his arms around his wife’s waist. “Maybe, because that’s all you have in common with him: racing.”
No.
That’s not—
Is it?
All that has connected them was racing and while she had always wanted to have someone who understood her because they lived the same lifestyle, it had never crossed her mind that it’d be this hard. They are in the same world, being constantly compared, constantly thrown against each other in ironies in order to get them to rival. Those words must have gotten to her and while she loves him...more like she has ever loved anyone, it must come from a place in which she connects with him, merely because she feels as though she needs to love him. He’s all she ever wanted: caring, sweet, with the right amount of spice, the perfect amount of passion, given and he gives back as much as he wants.
“That’s not it.” She tries to say, though her phone is once again vibrating and she stares ahead, trying not to look at Hoseok’s name. “Why would you think that?”
“It’s not that you don’t have to have anything in common with your partner,” Leo says. “It’s that you have to have dreams together in order to build a committed relationship. You’re in the same field and constantly plotted against each other, you don’t get to get back from work and sit down with him and tell him all that happened, because you guys always know.”
“But you two work together.”
“We lived very different lives.” Heejung adds in between a laugh, turning back to look at her husband with a smile. “But on the long run, we wanted to have something together. We know we have lives outside of our romance, though. We created something together, we had the same dream.”
“...I don’t get it.” She tries to push, picking up her phone and watching as the call suddenly dissipates into the thin air. He had hung up.
“All I’m saying is that you should’ve thought about what you wanted from him before dating him.” Leo conquers, making her push her lips up in distaste.
What had she wanted?
She had wanted to win against him.
She had wanted to try the fire inside of him.
...Was a relationship ever in their plans or had they gotten too excited?
She shakes her head, standing up from the floor and dusting her leggings with her hands. She pushes Hoseok’s contact on her phone, pressing the device to her ear and waiting for him to pick up. “Well, thanks for the advice, but...I don’t know, I feel like we can make it work. We’re just...We need some...We need to breathe sometimes, that’s all.”
“Whatever you say.”
When he picks up her call, confused as to why she wouldn’t pick up, she feels bad. She feels like a villain, then again, constant in her life but now even more prominent. This is the fairytale that she had always wanted, the dream she never had, the fire she wanted to be burnt by, the passion that she always needed...why does it feel so dull? Why does it feel like the two of them are only prolonging it because they have so much love and respect for each other that they need to stay together? She doesn’t know, she simply gets inside her car and asks Hoseok to meet up with her.
Enough it is for him to welcome her with a kiss, for his arms to wrap around her, for them to try for another night to connect...even when sometimes, it feels like everything is rushed.
A second with him must be better than her youth without him.
🚗
It is a sight to remember. The light of sunshine casting down white curtains, passing through elegantly, washing his body in its illuminence, only leaving his shadow for her. One would never think of that as metaphorical, but it is. With her eyes half opened, one of them closed, jaw aching from tightening it when she is asleep, she realizes she is in her room. Sometimes, she forgets how much she had changed from the moment she met him—that man that she adores, the shadow that only shows he has put his shirt on, looking ahead to the city even at such an early moment of the morning.
He’s not one to be up early usually, much less when he is staying in, but something must have been inside his head. She remembers briefly that he had called her name and maybe, that is why she had woken up. Her limbs extend, spine rotating over itself, straightening her back and her legs, waiting for him to say something else, notice that she has finally woken up.
He calls her once again and she groans, pressing her cheek to the pillow before releasing a few words at him, albeit sleepily:
“Yes, Hoseok, I’m here.” Sometimes, she’d say the same things when he had nightmares or when he was talking and he would ask if she’s listening. It’s mundane, the way she speaks, like how they had become. All because of the media, that press that had united them at first and now completely pulled them away.
His voice breaks, god, it hurts her head just to remember the sound of his voice when he says: “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” He voices out, cradling his own body with his hands as he speaks in a softer tone again. “I—I feel like I am boring you, and you’re boring me, too...”
He spoke it into existence, just exactly what she had been thinking, and she sighs, pushing the covers off her body and looking up at the ceiling. Losing him, her biggest fear, she doesn’t know what she will feel now that she sees him everywhere if he is no longer hers. “Well, I see where you’re coming from.” She whispers. “Why are you bored?”
“It doesn’t feel the same.” Hoseok says and she stands up, trying to reach for him but stopping herself, instead fixing her shirt and her sweatpants, the ones that had moved over her body in her sleep. “You’re always compared to me, I’m always pushed to hate you. I feel like it has strained our relationship...”
“It has.” She admits, her voice bitter when she closes her eyes tightly. “Hoseok, you’re not a boring guy. It’s—I think we just rushed through it.” Though, she can hear Heejung’s voice in her head telling her that she had told her so, but she would never regret dating him, the only man that could ever understand her fully, perhaps too much. “We were...so excited. We should have been more honest, taken more time, maybe we could have had a better foundation for our relationship.”
Finally, Hoseok turns around, sparing her a look that she would never forget. God, they look drained, devastated, as if they had given their all but it wasn’t enough. Had they never been compatible to start with? Two people that loved each other but could never be together. Four months of trying and trying… “I’m so sorry. This is my fault—”
“It isn’t.”
“It is—”
“Hoseok, we both did it. We both agreed to this.” She tries to reassure him, reaching over to him and patting her hand against his arm. She wanted to hug him, but they are on the verge of breaking up...she shouldn’t prolong this. Some stories are meant to be as short-lived as its beginning. “It’s—We didn’t know better. That happens.”
“...So...” Hoseok trails his voice, extending his hand and giving it to her. “Breaking up?”
“Breaking up.” She finishes, biting on her lip before she lets go of his hand. This was the first touch they had and their last.
When seeing him go, she realizes that her youth will probably not be as golden as it was with him, that it will be difficult to get back that spark that she used to have—that edge, though not angry, incredibly mischievous, really to enjoy life, to take over it.
From now on, she wants to enjoy everything one day at a time.
From now on, she’ll try to be more than just Wonho’s rival. The reason as to why they had broken up.
#wonho scenarios#wonho#monsta x scenarios#monsta x#kpop scenarios#writing#monsta x au#monsta x fluff#monsta x angst#wonho au#wonho fluff#wonho angst#racer!au#the anti-love club#FIRST ONE OF THE BUNCH#i've been working on this for mooooonths#tell me what you think of this!!!
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Whats your favorite power system in all of fiction? The simplicity of dbz's? Something more complex like nen? Something not from anime at all?
I generally steer towards hard magic/power systems: something with defined rules that allow for both limitations and VERY awesome victories if you can figure out how to twist the rules in your favor. That’s one of the reasons why I enjoyed Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality. That (parody-esque, highly analytical world of HP) takes those rules to their logical endpoints. If transfiguration has the hard, established rule of “No transfiguration will last forever” then you get to see how different characters grapple with that rule. Some will see it as a limitation - “Dammit. That means we can’t use transfiguration to solve world hunger” - and others an opportunity - “What if I turned something deadly into an apple, had an enemy eat it, and then waited until the transfiguration wore off?” You also open up the possibility that a Super Special Protagonist will someday break that rule in a moment of pure awesomeness. One of my favorite moments in that series is when Harry rattles off all the ways he can turn a normal classroom deadly and though it’s horrifying (it’s supposed to be), he’s also right. Characters who exist in worlds with established rules and who bother to learn those rules are poised to exploit them in wonderfully satisfying ways.
This is partly why RWBY’s system doesn’t appeal to me. It’s largely dependent on what the writers want at any given moment, making the world feel continually shaky rather than a real, immersive thing that the audience can delve into. Weiss no longer uses her time ability... even though, as far as we know, she could. Ruby can suddenly slam through steel walls... even though we don’t understand how. Marrow doesn’t even attempt to use ‘Stay’ at the start of the fight... even though he, again, could. It’s those “How?” and “But they could have?” that interrupts the immersion. I think RWBY’s system is best described by Geico’s latest commercial:
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“Why don’t we just get into the running car??” and then they don’t because it’s much harder for the plot if they do, not because there’s a compelling, in-world reason for them to avoid it. Only RWBY’s system has the added complications of no one fully understanding how cars work (aura), or whether a character still has access to a car (abilities), if they possess enough gas to drive it (dust), and so on and so forth until you get an audience arguing over the supposed benefits/downsides of taking the car at all, if it exists, if it runs, if, if, ifs that no one is able to answer, rather than acknowledging that we should understand precisely how a car works and the show should have explained why the characters wouldn’t use it when it’s seemingly 100% available to them.
It’s also why Witcher’s system works much better for me. There’s definitely wishy-washy elements to it, but on the whole it’s far more rule-grounded than RWBY’s is. Things like “Witchers can cast signs, but signs pale in comparison to the power a sorceress has” explain potential question such as, “Why do these characters call on dangerous magic users they don’t trust when they themselves can already do magic?” We’ve been told what the difference between these types of magic is and we understand one’s limitations. Witcher also takes the time to think through an OP character’s place in a rule-driven world: basically, give them rules as well. O’dimm is defeated not because Geralt randomly develops the ability to slay god-like creatures, or because O’dimm is made stupid and very conveniently just doesn’t use his own ability, he’s defeated because he too has rules attached to him. He will follow the rules that he creates. That allows him to remain staggeringly dangerous - he’ll always try to tip those rules in his favor - but rules, by default, are always capable of being bent in favor of the hero as well. So when O’dimm says, “If you can solve my riddle AND make it through my world AND find the object that serves as the answer... then yeah, I’ll leave.” So Geralt does. He follows the rules established, using his brain as well as his physical skills, and successfully tells O’dimm to get lost. Salem, in contrast, has no established rules and thus we get the endless conversations of, “WHY doesn’t she just destroy Atlas herself? WHY did she wait until the story started to actively seek out the relics? What’s stopping her?” If the story says “Nothing” yet Salem isn’t winning, that’s a problem. Rules not only keep the audience grounded but also present opportunities for great characterization: O’dimm is more compelling because he treats everything like a game that he’s capable of losing. A Salem with vulnerabilities or psychological limitations would, in turn, be more compelling too.
So, to go back to your anime examples, anon, I don’t have one single story to point to, though I do prefer the more complicated systems. Just because they present far more opportunity for creativity while likewise allowing the audience to feel confident in their understanding of the world and the possibilities for how things might turn out (making a believable twist on the author’s part unbelievably EPIC). Even DBZ follows broad rules like “Saiyans get stronger when they lose” and “Intense emotion is capable of providing a powerup.” Indeed, we even see some villains making use of this rule: I want a stronger opponent, you need motivation, so I’ll kill someone you love to give you that boost. It’s simple, but it (mostly) hangs together.
In contrast, power/magic systems that refuse to establish rules so that the authors are never forced to come up with creative solutions, or that keep/chuck rules based on what’s convenient, just end up being frustrating. To my mind that sort of ambiguity works best in horror: How the fuck does Night Vale work? Good question. Don’t right know. It’s that sense of “This world makes no sense” that adds to our discomfort, discomfort the genre actively wants to create. However, making your fantasy/action series nonsensical when you want viewers invested in the fights is a mistake. Your audience can’t get behind either the potential outcome or what the author eventually decides to write if there isn’t a common foundation to work from. You’re less likely to enjoy, say, a card game if you’re playing blind, or your opponent changes rules whenever they please. I need to understand what’s possible and be able to trust that we’re both using the same rulebook in order to get invested.
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Majora’s Mask (N64)
Hello people of Tumblr! Let’s talk about the most divisive Zelda game.
James Rolfe semi-reviewed Majora’s Mask as part of Angry Video Game Nerd, tying the game’s themes into both a Twilight Zone reference (as per masks) and the New Year ball drop (as per moonfall):
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I DIDN’T LIKE WUT HE SAID HARUMPH. >:o[
The Nerd is, of course, a fictional character that James has to put on an act for, and I’ve found that this act is much more obvious and stiff than usual. The Nerd normally tries to balance criticism with praise, but the transition in this one comes across as especially jarring and abrupt.
(OOTA = Ocarina of Time Also = James / The Nerd complains about something that applies to OoT also, or doesn’t notice / appreciate something that he ought to as an OoT veteran)
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Graphics
For some strange reason, The Nerd begins by complaining about the graphics - possibly a reference to the Game Grumps playthrough of Majora’s Mask. Arin Hanson did not wait 5 seconds before blurting out “THIS GAME LOOKS LIKE SHIT“ in a tone that made it obvious he was simply trying to stir drama.
OOTA: Despite pointing out that Majora’s Mask reuses the engine and some other assets, James / the Nerd doesn’t include or compare to OoT while criticizing the derived graphics of Majora’s Mask.
Of course, Majora’s Mask is designed to take advantage of the N64′s surreal, creepy graphics and create a disturbing, uncanny world. I would say that “bad graphics” tend to work in the favor of such games, if handled properly. Just look at Puppet Combo.
One must keep in mind, and James would absolutely be familiar with this, that older games up to around the GameCube era were still played on CRT televisions. The color choices and jagged edges of the N64 were less obvious due to the color balancing and blurriness of these old TVs. As such, today’s better monitors actually make these particular games look worse.
While the console overall has definitely not aged well visually, Majora’s Mask is one of the most graphically intensive games on the N64. If I recall correctly, the scene where the Woodfall Temple rises from the swamp is the most graphically demanding scene in any N64 game.
The Nerd asserts that, in contrast to early 3D, certain 2D styles such as Link to the Past still look good by today’s standards. This is never going to be an objective statement - not only because of the strong bias most people have in favor of or against particular graphical media, but also due to the high emotional investment longtime Zelda players have in both LttP and OoT, which tend to jockey for the title of Best Zelda. (Link’s Awakening is usually a close third place.)
I personally find LttP’s color palette appealing, but many sprites are incoherent or anatomically malformed, and its Escher-esque viewing angle with every wall slanting away from you is absurd. This is underscored in A Link Between Worlds, which is in full 3D but copies the viewing angle by hilariously tilting everything.
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Cosmic Checkpoints
The central criticism of Majora’s Mask, which the Nerd for some strange reason prioritizes after the graphics, has always been an example of Time Limit Syndrome.
Time Limit Syndrome is the phenomenon where perceiving a time limit will make many players freak out and possibly make them quit playing the game permanently. This is true even if the time limit turns out to do absolutely nothing when it expires. After all, they don’t know that ahead of time.
I usually hear complaints about Majora’s Mask’s time system from people who quit within 5 minutes due to Time Limit Syndrome... but James / The Nerd has beaten the final boss and really ought to know better.
As James / The Nerd implies, Majora’s Mask does not expect you to beat the game within a single three-day cycle. Indeed, you are forced to “fail” the first cycle in order to teach you the underlying mechanic of resetting the clock and instill in you the idea that you do not have to “beat the time limit”.
Majora’s Mask runs on a cosmic checkpoint system.
At any millisecond you can simply play the Song of Time to return to the Dawn of the First Day and keep every “checkpoint” you’ve met up to that point; “checkpoints” are things like acquired items and learned Songs.
For instance, as soon as you have the Sonata of Awakening, you can enter the Woodfall Temple. You can and should smack the Owl Statue closest to that temple, then immediately reset to a new cycle and enter the temple fresh on the First Day, skipping the long-ass Metal Gear Solid segment you did to get that song.
The Nerd’s implication that you’re “losing progress” when you use the Song of Time thus makes no sense. It’s not any different than leaving a room in a dungeon and seeing that the puzzle in it has reset when you come back in. You don’t need to do that puzzle again if you already got the key item you get for completing it, thus you have not lost any progress. The proper term is replay value, since you have the option at any point of doing any part of the game over again, with any power-ups or self-prescribed inhibitions you like, without starting a new game. Why criticize Majora’s Mask for the #1 reason people love Super Mario World?
When you use the Song of Time to return to the Dawn of the First Day, you save the game. This is the only way to make a “permanent” save in the N64 version of the game (as compared to the 3DS remake); the other methods let you make a temporary save if you’re interrupted or have something else to do, which is deleted when you load it back up.
If you do let the timer run out by itself, then you get an amazingly horrific game over scene (as featured in the above video), and your current 3-day cycle is lost as you must reload the previous First Day save. The reason the N64 game will not let you override your permanent save mid-cycle is, undoubtedly, so that you do not somehow save a scenario where you will repeatedly game over without any chance to use the Song of Time (however unlikely that may be.) In addition, you can always count on your hard saves being at the start of everybody’s schedule, and you will not need to remember where in the middle of some convoluted three-day quest you were.
Personally, I would have made it so that the timer running out just forced the Song of Time effect. The only “good reason” I can think of to do otherwise is because Majora’s Mask is a very unsettling game and the anxiety of Time Limit Syndrome may actually be intentional as part of the mood... but I would prioritize consistent and intuitive gameplay over an inconsistent and unpredictable audience response.
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Time & Dungeons
Majora’s Mask does have a few frustrating consequences of its time system.
Minor annoyances include quests and rewards that only trigger at a very specific time (ghosts at night, The Other Link, etc.)
Moderate annoyances include quests that are not only that specific, but you have to trigger them first by doing something else specific at an earlier time, or intentionally fail another quest. (the Kafei & Anju quests that are not the Couple’s Mask quest)
Major annoyances include questlines that take place over all three days and which you have to completely restart if you mess up at any step and which sometimes have more than one ending (Couple’s Mask quest)
... but the dungeons semi-resetting is not a problem.
You should be smart and warp back as soon as you can access the dungeon, so that you can enter it at the very start of a new cycle. All you need is the Song that opens it and the Owl Statue closest to it (usually right in front of the dungeon entrance.)
Half of the dungeon is only there to block off the dungeon item. Once you get that, if you need to reset, you can skip half the dungeon next time because you’ve already got the dungeon item. You only need to get the Big Key and go fight the boss.
If you’ve ever challenged the boss, even if you had to quit the fight and reset, you can skip the entire dungeon and teleport right to the boss again on all subsequent cycles. (The boss will also call you out for holding its remains, if applicable.)
You only need to gather the fairies once per dungeon, since you keep all of the unlocked items across cycles.
It’s really quite forgiving except that it does not make it overt exactly where your checkpoints are. In fact, before James made this video and I looked it up, I didn’t know for the last 15+ years that merely challenging the boss let you skip the dungeon on subsequent cycles.
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But Why Tho
The entire 3-day nonsense is a necessity because of the illusion of life.
Similarly to Harvest Moon, major NPCs are scheduled to be in particular places at particular times of the three days. However, unlike Harvest Moon, this schedule is extremely specific for applicable characters. If you slow down time with the Inverted Song of Time, you will actually see these affected NPCs moving proportionately more slowly, because even their path from one place to another, and their exact departure and arrival times, are aligned to the time schedule. Doing certain things will also alter NPC schedules accordingly.
This, of course, helps deepen the characters and make them look more life-like in a game that is all about exploring them emotionally and learning about their fears, hardships, and heartbreaks. Link earns every single Mask in the game by healing somebody, even if he does not use the Song of Healing per se. If he gets every single last one, then he has the ultimate power of love and kindness that off-handedly obliterates the malice and hatred of Majora.
This level of detail would not be feasible, or at least not very intuitive, with a very long schedule, so the game takes place over the same three days repeated indefinitely.
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Comparisons
The Nerd compares Majora’s Mask to Breath of the Wild in other places in the video, but does not do so when it would not be favorable to the latter; specifically, his criticism of the Majora’s Mask banker and his/her talkiness applies ten times over to the Great Fairies in Breath of the Wild, who not only give their entire explanation of how they work every time you leave and return to them again, but also forcibly close the upgrade window when you run out of items you have materials for, without letting you look them over to see what you need to farm for.
You need to use the BotW Great Fairies all the time, but you only need to use the MM bank rarely. You can just deposit money into it once per cycle and ignore it otherwise, since you refill your ammo just by cutting bushes and never need to purchase any... unlike Breath of the Wild.
To deposit or withdraw all your Rupees at once, just enter 999 as the number. It will change it to however many you actually have. The reason you’ve given 5 Rupees in hand is (probably) because otherwise you might lose them when you had 995 or more Rupees in the bank, if indeed you can stand to grind Rupees for that long.
OOTA: The banker is the Termina counterpart of OoT’s beggar, and reuses the animation.
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Around this point, the “sequence breaking” in the editing becomes apparent. Like a videogamedunkey skit, random bits of the game are strewn into the video out of order.
This comes back to bite the review because the Nerd acts like he’s just gotten to a part of the game that has to be completed before what was shown earlier in the video (hence why I call it “sequence breaking”). This breaks the illusion of sincerity; the suspension of disbelief as to the video being scripted is lost and it starts to look a bit more doctored to color the perception of the game.
OOTA: The Nerd does not recognize obvious counterparts to or parodies of characters like the Organ Grinder / Guru Guru, and acts like he’s never encountered an N64 ReDead before.
OOTA: The swim sound is the same sound as in Ocarina of Time. Talk about fishing for complaints.
I disagree harshly with the statement that “all everybody talks about [in regards to Majora’s Mask] are the good things”. I’ve almost only ever heard people complain about the time system and how it’s “Not Really Zelda”.
The particular glitch shown - Zora Link rapidly colliding with the wall - must be intentionally invoked. That glitch occurs if you use the speed-swim against very specific spots of very specific walls... fittingly, any of the corners in the infamous whirlpool room work. All you have to do is let go of the buttons and it will stop. It’s kind of like sailing Mario under the log with a Green Shell in Lethal Lava Land, except Mario always dies (in the most hilarious way) when you do that and Link is only briefly inconvenienced (in the most hilarious way).
OOTA: Most of Majora’s Mask’s more common glitches are the same as in Ocarina of Time due to reusing the engine. Infinite Sword Glitch and Bombchu Hover are both still around, for instance.
The one glitch that is the most problematic is that sometimes, when you reset in the middle of a dungeon, the doors will lock but the Small Keys will not go back into their chests. You then have to keep resetting until it resets correctly, which should be the very next reset.
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Wart / Arrghus
Majora’s Mask may be the only Zelda game with two minibosses in every dungeon - one for the dungeon item, one for the Big Key.
That eyeball boss is Wart, the first of the two Great Bay Temple minibosses, who guards the Ice Arrows. It’s Arrghus from Link to the Past, who was always called ワート WART in Japanese. In the 3DS version, its name in several other languages is the same as Arrghus’s.
Wart is the most annoying enemy in the entire game. He’s a fucker and I hate him. The worst thing about Wart is that the only way to make his long-ass battle faster is to completely destroy your N64. You do this by shooting an arrow into his eye when it’s open, causing every single mini-eyeball to fall off of him, dropping your frame rate into the gutter. (It gets even worse when you start hitting them with the sword.)
You fight Wart again in the Secret Temple (which is basically a boss gauntlet.)
Fuck Wart.
And fuck the second Great Bay miniboss, the gecko in the blob.
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Bits and Bobs
Sometimes the game’s camera cuts (such as when night falls and the game pauses to announce it) interrupt the gameplay. I don’t remember whether the camera angle you had before the cut effects the camera angle after the cut.
While not strictly required, the Bunny Hood literally only makes you run much faster, and makes the skeleton captain sequence (and 90% of the game) much easier. Always use the Bunny Hood when you don’t need any other mask.
OOTA: You should always be tapping the Lens of Truth on and off to use way less magic. (Basically zero, if you tap it rapidly enough.)
The Goron Race is one of the most frustrating parts of the game, and you need to complete it by the 2nd Day or else you can’t get the Gilded Sword. To get the most amount of time possible to complete it:
Confront Ghot at least once
Save a lot of Rupees in the bank
Get the Powder Keg certification
Start a new cycle
Buy a Powder Keg
Use Fire Arrow to ready forge and turn in sword for Razor Sword
Defeat Ghot (necessary for races to start)
Use bought Powder Keg to blow up boulder (shoot it with an arrow to detonate it)
Complete race as soon as possible for Gold Dust
Get Razor Sword
Turn Razor Sword right back in
Get Gilded Sword
Nintendo has never had good control sticks; the N64 and the Joycon alike both have shitty sticks that experience drift or misalign after a few months of use. This is probably why James is unable to roll Goron Link straight forward, or stay on the pipes, despite the N64′s analog stick locking into an octagon to ensure the 8 main directions are easy to hit.
You have to hit the trees with the Hookhot, but the stupid turtle wobbles around, so the trees are hard to hit. I’m not sure how the game determines whether the Hookshot connected or not. Is it checked on fire? Is it checked on arrival? No idea.
The reason the Ice Arrows are not working is because James is shooting too close to the wall. The ice platform would then clip through it. The game could move the platform to be further from the wall but decides to just not form any platform at all. I remember being pretty pissed off with it myself.
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Video ending
The Nerd doesn’t have to do the entire dungeon over again, because he already has the Ice Arrows. He only has to get to and fight that stupid blob gecko again for the Big Key and then get back to the boss.
OOTA: Why would you walk into the giant exit light before you got the Heart Container. Hell, so far as I know, this is Every Zelda Game Also since all of them let you forget to pick up the Heart Container...
Majora’s a bastard. If you get every mask in the game and turn them all in to him, he will for some unfathomable reason give you the Fierce Deity Mask and let you completely whoop his ass with it. The Fierce Deity Mask makes the battle into an utter joke. In the N64 version you can only use it in boss rooms, unless you use a glitch. The 3DS version also lets you use it when fishing (which itself is not in the N64 version.)
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In summary
Majora’s Mask is definitely beloved more for its themes and characters than for its gameplay. It has some of the most beautiful music in all of Zelda, most notably the Song of Healing, and its advanced special effects and cinematography are top-tier by the standards of the N64. It is chock-full of bittersweet, heavy-hitting content and is a major source of inspiration for future "serious subject” indie games and creepypastas - not just BEN DROWNED and Spooky’s Jumpscare Mansion, but in general.
The gameplay is, for the most part, a weird Ocarina of Time mod. The mask forms play differently, and there are extra mechanics introduced by some songs such as the Elegy of Emptiness, but overall you solve puzzles and fight battles with the same “strategy” as in OoT.
MM has always been very divisive because of the time system, which the game does not adequately explain to most players, and which is particularly frustrating in regards to specific parts of the game such as the Gilded Sword or the Couple’s Mask quest. The Bomber’s Notebook helps keep track of some aspects (and is expanded in the 3DS version), but many players simply find the detailed scheduling and the sequence of events too much crap to keep track of and too many repeated chores in the event of failures and many resets, and do not develop a recognition - let alone appreciation - of when they have reached a checkpoint in the main game and can reset to a new cycle without losing anything, or how to gauge whether they have the time left to take on a new task whimsically rather than through planning.
When I first started playing I hated it, but over time I began to be okay with the structure around the time cycle, albeit a bit bored or frustrated when I had to repeat day 1+2 because I screwed up a quest on day 3.
There are so many cool moments in Majora’s Mask that, for me at least, it supercedes the frustrating parts of the quests that cover all 3 days, and some of the just plain annoying parts that are not strictly relevant to the time system.
How the dogs react to each form of Link
Any time you use the Song of Healing
Mummy-Dad and the Well
When you realize who the Skull Kid is
When you realize what happened to the Butler’s son
The full ending with 100% completion
I’ve often said that Earthbound is “a lousy game but a great experience”.
I suppose it’s not out of the park to say Majora’s Mask is in the same boat.
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Gwenspiration: The Wacky Version Vol. 1 - The Fanfics
As threatened/promised, I am tooting the horn in a number of posts, following the most kind call of @jaimebrienneonline.
I decided to begin with fanfic as JB fanfiction was my way into the fandom when a kind voice, long time ago, lured me over to the wonderful world which is JBO. And ever since that day I found both my home and my people.
I am not going in a particular order because like my non-existent children, I kind of love and love to hate all of my fics equally.
But, for matters of scrolling convenience, I will put this list below a cut:
Childhood Friends has a special place in my heart because it is one of the two fics that got me into the fandom, and it is of the rare species of completed Wacky WIPs. The story marked my first tender steps in the canon as I was still catching up on show and book knowledge but got instantly hooked on the JB dynamic and just *had* to write fanfiction about them, albeit not yet knowing just what the frack Westeros even looked like on a map. I simply was intrigued by the idea of how the lives of our OTP may have played out differently if only they had met at a younger age, only to run into one another time and time again over the years, until at last, the circumstances seem to be in their favor. Writing that fic was a challenge because, for one, it got finished, which is incredibly hard for me to to do, and it is a coming of age story of sorts, which is not necessarily what I am used to writing. Nonetheless, it was a project that got me firmly into the fandom, which is why I am always remembering the process (and the writer’s panic) somewhat fondly, and always smile like an idiot when someone finds that old fic of mine and leaves a kudo or even a comment, reminding me of those early beginnings of my JB shipping career.
Choices likely has to be mentioned in the same vein, despite its crucial difference being that it went on a very, very, veeeeeery long hiatus and yet has to awaken (some prince wanting to give it a smooch to maybe bring it back to life? Would be much appreciated!). It was born out of the wish of exploring the infamous what if of Jaime and Brienne already getting intimate while on the road back to King’s Landing - as a matter of necessity/convenience, only for the misfortunate/very fortunate circumstance that Brienne winds up pregnant after their one time together. I enjoyed/would very much to enjoy again to write the character studies on how they deal not just with the issue of parenthood but also with their insecurities regarding their feelings for one another, which inspires more than one ill-made choice (*roll credits*) for either one of them as neither one dares to call love what actually is just that, hiding instead behind missions and honor, parenthood and duty, and fractured pasts that leave them wondering just who they became thanks to each other.
Colour Verses is a series that was born out of my first ever (I believe) JB Appreciation Week. OMG, it’s been so long. The theme of colors really had me inspired, which is why those pieces, which can be read in succession and independently, have a soft spot in my Wacky heart.
The Shredding Project, I believe, deserves an honorary mention despite its utter lack of completion for some of its parts and a happy ending for some of the tales shredded in this part of the fandom. I have a great passion for fairytales and deconstructing them, which inspired this undertaking of twisting and turning aka shredding all those stories into new models to fit Jaime and Brienne into. In fact, the Shredding Project is much larger than it currently is on AO3, as most of the shredded stories still reside in a large, very large Word file on my computer (42 shreddings up to date with a total of 414k words *whispers* 414k mkaaaay, yes I *am* obsessed), and can be found in the respective thread on JBO, where one can read perhaps not an eloquently put-together retelling of favorite fairytales (and some Disney movies) but at least find a conclusion to every story and thus a happy ending, as befits a fairytale.
Bow Down is another story I would mean to include in this list. It came to mean a lot to me personally because I worked my way through it at a time when I was not really having the time of my life for a number of reasons. Thus, finishing that fic did a lot of things for me - and hopefully also with my oh so patient readers. The basic premise is how things would have developed, had Brienne failed to find Sansa and thus fully dedicate herself to the cause of the Blackfish during the Riverrun Siege whose bitterness is clouding his judgment, leaving Jaime in a tough position to choose between his family and the mannish woman he can’t help but care about as much as he does.
A Tale of Spring is one of those fics I wish to include in that already way too long tooting because a) it is a finished story, which is always a rarity in my Wacky world, and b) it is still a kind of headcanon I would have loved to come about in some capacity, as it leaves room for not just happy endings while at the same time giving space for futures to grow for JB as they are cautious to dream of their future past the Long Night, edging on a Dream of Spring.
Paths is one of those stories I am, yet again, very desperate to get back on track with (I mean, it is supposed to lead somewhere, title has it). This story means a lot to me because I just have so much in my head for how this is meant to conclude and just have to get over that one edge to finally ebb into the narrative direction I need this to go (aka follow the path *badum tssssss*). I suppose the story was very much fuelled by my love for G.I. Jane and the dynamic between Jordan O'Neil and John James Urgayle (and Viggo in those short shorts... way too short shorts... damn). At the same time, my aim with this fic is to show not just how tough JB can be and how much ass they can kick together but also how insecure they are beneath the tough surface and how they actually long for something way outside the line of fire.
Train Acquaintances, by contrast, is a rather self-indulgent fic I started to write and was surprised to have found an audience rather fast. I just really liked the theme of trains as a way for two people to meet while at the same time playing with the overly romanticized notion of trains and deconstructing it somewhat. They are a curious means of transportation, to put it mildly. And to then throw in Jaime trying to act smoothly when he is just acting like a dork most of his time was just too delicious to resist. While it’s been a long time (because my computer ate part of a chapter I found really important and that has frustrated me so much, I can’t even tell you), I remain intrigued writing this story because it has a rather distinct mood from what I normally tend to write. And awkward Jaime is just so much fun to write.
Washed Away is one of those fics I am so desperate to get back to that you woudln’t even believe - because it is the one fic most closely tied to the book canon. Its premise is the Lady Stoneheart situation yet to be resolved, wherein Brienne makes a dangerous gamble to save the man she knows is not guilty of the crimes Lady Stoneheart accuses him of, leaving them both to wrestle not just with the dilemmas of this overall situation but also their conflicting vows and feelings for one another.
In the Eyes of the Seven is one of those fics I am yet again very desperate to get back to (yes, I realize I type this sentence far too often, but it is the truth!) but have not yet found a way to bridge between two important plot points, currently creating a gap that keeps me from moving on to the next chapters. It is one of those narrative places where I nerd around freely and explore some mad medley of historical fiction inserted into the history of Westeros, taking up on the runaway nuns of the Reformation period and re-applying it to the Westerosi context by making it about septons and septas instead. While perhaps not a particularly popular story of mine, it is a story I very much enjoy writing as it gives opportunity for lots of introspection, insecurities, and the wish of both characters to break out of the boundaries of the norms set by a static system leaving no room for the likes of the Kingslayer and a woman fancying herself a sword as much as a book or a dress. In general, there are just so many ideas for it inside my head that I really hope to get back on track with that story because there is just so much more I want to tell the readers about in this strange tale.
May the Norns Bind Their Fate strikes a similar tune for me, as I get to gush about my mediocre-at-best knowledge of Norse mythology (albeit a great interest) and yet again change Westeros to my liking to insert the political system of the Viking era into this society (or rather my wacky interpretation thereof). For me, it is both an experiment in terms of perhaps (big perhaps) turning things a bit more heated than I am used to (for Wacky writes no smut, unless it is a literal accident, which only happened, like, once) and diving deep into aspects such as trauma and grief as well as fate and determinacy, since the idea of seers knowing your future has a very distinct appeal in my view, and how knowing one’s “fate” may affect the outcomes of the events. Thus, taking up on the challenge to deal with that in this fic still has me hooked - and I hope I am not the only one.
Last but not least...
An Honorable Man and a Just Woman is a story I am happy to have found an audience because it really gives me something personally to write it. Considering how sadly things played out in the show, I was in dire need of my own little fix-it and have since taken up on the challenge to entertain those questions of what would have changed had Jaime survived, what would be if he were declared King of the Six Kingdoms. Not only does that leave a humbled Jaime trying to find his place in a world he never thought he would see, having seen his ending long before he rode away from Winterfell, but it also leaves him and Brienne with the reality of what it is like to survive when so many died, and how to cope with how they parted and why. And while there are still so many things left unsaid and feelings left unexpressed, one can only hope that those two honorable and just people will eventually find their way around in the new world they are meant to build.
So yeah, I tooted a lot, and I still left out a whole bunch of my weird fanfic children, but those are the ones I feel a great deal of dedication to, even if, admittedly, a lot of them haven’t seen an update in ages. But rest assured, anyone reading this who dared to jump the Wacky train and read along, knowing very well that this strange woman struggles finishing a WIP most of her days, that I am still dedicated to each of those stories (as I am to any story I write). There are simply technicalities and real life not letting me dedicate as much of my time to it as I would need to finally get that final push ahead on a lot of them.
Be it as it may, in the spirit of Glorious Gwendoline Christie, here’s to my shameless self-promotion!
Stay tuned for the next post about the wackiest of Wacky’s wacky creations.
Until then...
Much love! ♥♥♥
#jaime x brienne#jaime lannister#brienne of tarth#gwenspiration#wacky writes fanfic#wacky promotes fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#yadda#and I love me mah tags
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All right here we go, my notes on SPN 14.17 “Game Night,” which gets into parental issues and closure, domesticity on SPN, Cas and loneliness and connections with others, parallels between Dean and Cas, waffles, Dean’s facade, Sam’s heartbreak, my boredom and dislike of villain characters who I am supposed to dislike anyway, the nature of souls, and God as absentee parent.
First off, S14 has to be possibly the most domestic SPN season ever. We’ve had glimpses. But S14 is really digging in showing us this family’s life in the bunker. Add to this, even though Cas wasn’t present for game night, how accepted and normalized it is that Cas lives there. That’s his home. He’s expected and if he goes he at least tells Dean and it’s temporary, it’s assumed he’ll come back. Our bunker family includes 2 characters who aren’t blood related to the Winchesters, Cas and Jack, but they are part of the family nonetheless, something S14 has made abundantly clear.
Why is this domesticity important? Isn’t SPN about killing monsters? It’s important because SPN is about killing monsters. It adds texture and layers to our heroes, makes their lives even more real, and ups the drama factor when we can see them have moments of domesticity and being a family to contrast with the harshness and the monster fights and the darker aspects. SPN from the get-go, has as its primary fuel the bonds between characters. Most of SPN is about Sam, Dean, and Cas as charcters who have MHI and PTSD and how they keep on keeping on, and their bonds with each other and other characters.
We also need to be reminded of the stakes. Our heroes need to be shown living the world they’re trying to save and we need to see why they care if their loved ones are imperiled. We need to see them being a family to understand what could be lost. Remember in ep 300 alternate Sam and alternate Dean we learn are isolated characters and we see Cas devoid of personal attachments, and that was their tragedy.
The monsters are really just a backdrop to explore these characters. Because SPN is a horror/urban fantasy series, we aren’t going to spend a whole lot of time on the domestic stuff, it needs lots of monster-killing action, but all in service of revealing character, and the domesticity needs to be there as part of the emotional weave. It stood out to me how extra domestic the start of Game Night is, with Mary and Jack putting snacks together, Mary trying to talk to Jack, and Dean trying to fix the mouse trap game, they reference that Sam is off getting pizza and will be back shortly, and we have a reason Cas isn’t there but we know if Cas were he’d be right in the thick of the domesticity.
They also did it because of how hurty this ep gets later on, for dramatic contrast.
Dean, our smart little engineer. Dean seems really, really frustrated he can’t fix the mouse trap game which you might think is just there for comedy but it’s not. He’s really minds he can’t fix that mouse trap game. Dean hates it when he can’t fix things, doesn’t he. When someone in his family is hurt or something’s wrong with them and there’s nothing he can do. He’s also not over that PTSD from having Michael screaming and banging in his head. It’s the little things. You think SPN actually forgot he has PTSD, look again.
And where is Cas? Why, he’s off meeting with the angel Anael to get a fix for Jack’s soullessness, without telling Sam and Dean, because Cas...he’s still got issues which I’ll get to a moment.
Interesting Cas orders a waffle he’s apparently not eating. Maybe just to not appear out of place in the diner. While Anael doesn’t even get coffee. Like it’s important to Cas to behave as a human, even if he’s not actually going to eat that waffle. Maybe Cas just wanted a waffle. It’s a really cute waffle, I’d want that waffle. This is reminding me of Cas and the milkshakes in 14.15. Why do they keep showing us Cas and cute milkshakes, Cas and cute waffles. It’s tantalizing. Almost lampshading the fact that this idea of Cas and milkshakes, Cas and waffles, is appealing, the idea of Cas enjoying these things, and maybe Cas would enjoy these things, yet he’s not going to actually consume them.
So Anael was Joshua’s right hand. That was a reveal that shows she was an angel of some importance.
I love the Anael and Cas dialogue. “Ill-conceived lone-wolf desperation.” Anael has seen some things. There’s several moments here where she sees through Cas’s bullshit, and several moments where Cas sees through hers.
Cas is not only hiding his deal with The Empty, he’s gone off to find God to fix Jack’s soul without telling Sam and Dean.
Oh this Dean and Mary scene. I’ve talked about Mary’s arc before, and how purposeful the distance and remoteness is, why the character is meant to be brittle, and wondering what kind of progression we’d see, a softening on that. Here’s another moment of it.
“You’re here, okay?”
“But I should’ve been here more. I know I can be closed off, hard.”
“That’s where I get it from.”
Oh, this is making me worried for Mary. That’s an awful lot of emotional honesty and softening and I’m thinking about John in ep 300 and closure and how that ended up. Dean got to say what he did to Mary near the end of S12. “I hate you and I love you and I forgive you.” And that was why Dean needed Mary back. But Mary has stuck around for several seasons and there are still unresolved things there. Which this scene offered one step towards a resolution for. How very John paralleling of you, SPN.
Dean relating to Mary’s facade isn’t spn vilifying Dean. SPN doesn’t think Dean is actually closed off and hard, the narrative doesn’t show us that, and the authorial voices don’t believe it. Dean does however construct a facade for himself and I’m not sure how people can claim it’s vilifying Dean for SPN to remember that. (People want consistency and SPN to remember Dean’s characteristics...it does). Dean references his facade here.
Remember that Dean’s perception of himself is that he’s a hardass. The Dean we actually see--and yes SPN is not only aware of that dichotomy but plays with it consistently--is a big-hearted squishy vulnerable softie who outbursts his emotions often and does a terrible job of hiding how much he cares. But in his Dean’s own mind his face is impeccably forged.
He’s acknowledging here he realizes Mary has a facade too and her brittleness and remoteness isn’t because she doesn’t care.
I think also Dean wants to relate himself to his mom. He modeled himself on John much of his life and had to find a way to being his own person away from that shadow, but he’s actually always been more like Mary and he wants to be close to her. So here he purposefully spells out a connection between them, even though Dean isn’t really just like Mary, their facades are still a commonality.
Mary saying “I’m grateful” for all the time she gets to spend with her kids. Her adult kids. Not the babies she lost. Her children as they are.
Ohhhh something bad is going to happen I can feel it.
We get smart researchy Sam, and Mary and Dean mother-son badass hunting team. I’m sorry we haven’t seen more Mary and Dean team-ups, I’ve been waiting for that. (See why I’m nervous? There’s a lot of Dean and Mary stuff in this ep I’ve been waiting for and was denied and now getting it...Marty, I’m scared. I know how SPN operates).
So Nick is basically a complete amoral psychopath now and I am both bored yet weirdly relieved the story isn’t even going close to trying to make him someone relatable or intriguing. Nick is one of the only things most of this fandom in all lanes agrees on: he has to go. And SPN is making him as unpleasant as possible, reflecting that.
Jack and Donatello have no soul and yet they show more conscience and care of others than Nick, who has his soul still, which is raising questions in my head about how souls work on SPN and can empathy be learned even if the soul is gone. It’s not that Jack isn’t incredibly dangerous without his soul, his inner compass is completely borked. But not totally absent. Donatello also has judgment about how to treat others. But Nick...Nick is only murderous.
“Because you’re a good man. You are. It’s one of the reasons I’m so proud of you.”
We are John paralleling like mad here. Sam gets to hear Mary is proud of him. Dean gets an apology for her distance and her letting him know she appreciates being with him.
Closure, closure, closure. Something terrible is going to happen.
These Cas and Anael scenes are utterly delightful. Not just because Misha and Danneel have a great rapport but the themes the dialogue is wading into is making me rub my hands together in metaish glee.
“I believe in Heaven.”
Anael was a believer. Joshua’s right hand. She was a good soldier. Unlike Cas, it doesn’t sound like she had much inclinations to rebel. It seem unlikely Anael ever needed a reset, but like Cas, she eventually did.
“I don’t need Heaven and I don’t need God. I’m happy,” Anael says.
There’s that theme of actual happiness vs. false happiness again.
“Really?” says Cas, who we know has figured out how important bonds with others are. “Because that sounds lonely.”
“We’re all lonely because we’re all alone,” says Anael.
Well this just got deeply philosophical. We can feel alone even when we’re with others. Anael feels God abandoned everyone and she’s not wrong, and she hasn’t found a connection with others the way Cas has. And Cas, even though he has found those connections, is still a lonely figure. Isolation, alienation, feeling he doesn’t belong have been major themes with Cas for years. But Cas knows things Anael doesn’t about how life one earth works.
Oh I so am enjoying Dean kicking the crap out of Nick.
Jack is soulless yet still cares about helping Donatello.
“My father was a monster.”
“He loved you...and you broke his heart.”
Shut up Nick, you manipulative psycho. Love isn’t enough. Lucifer “loves” like Thanos “loves.”
Back to Cas and Anael, “I’m doing this for Jack,” Cas says. Which he is, in part, but it’s not the only reason.
Anael may have passed on coffee but she’s packing tea. “You’re doing this because you’re afraid. Because in your mind it’d be easier to call God than tell Sam and Dean Winchester the truth. Jack’s soul is gone.”
Here is my whole separate post of its own on over-protective Cas trying to shield Sam and Dean from the storms and while it’s done out love, it’s misguided and his methods of shielding them often end badly.
But if you think Jack is all Cas cares about? Jack is the only reason Cas has done anything lately? You aren’t paying close enough attention (also that’s ignoring big chunks of canon anyway but I’m talking specifically, that even some of Cas’s Jack decisions have been about protecting Sam and Dean from pain...read my post).
There’s another samulet. Cas recognizes the object most likely to be the telephone to God because it’s similar to the Winchester samulet. It’s not identical to Sam and Dean’s. Similar but different design. Slightly different purposes. One glows in the presence of God. Another acts as a voicemail system. Are there others, with other purposes, related to God?
Chuck abandoned humanity and the angels but made sure means of communicating with him were left, perhaps scattered all over the world? In case of emergencies? Was it a full abandonment?
Cas sneaking away from his family to call his father for help out of their sightline because he’s scared and worried, why is that familiar. Where have I seen that before...oh yes, Dean calling John way back in “Home” in season 1.
This while Sam and Dean are going through closure things with the Winchester parents and Cas is again looking for his absent father.
“Go home and tell Sam and Dean the truth.” GOOD PLAN, ANAEL.
I love this exchange with Cas and Anael so much. This is the whole lynchpin of what Cas has learned.
“Just because God’s not with us doesn’t mean we’re alone.”
“Why? Because we all have each other?”
“Yes.”
Similarly to how Dean had already accepted himself without needing John’s approval to do it, Cas has already figured out he’s not alone even though his father is a chronic abandoner.
Now Sam is beating Nick! It’s the Nick gets beaten up episode and I am so here for it. Sam doesn’t kill him of course because Sam is a good person but I am also sort of sorry Sam doesn’t kill Nick. Which I don’t think is the takeaway they intended and yet.
Sam’s Nickrage. Sam tried to see the good in him and give him the benefit of the doubt. Nick turned out to be completely amoral, and Sam was wrong. And now there’s something wrong with Sam’s shared Team Free Will adoptive child, Jack, who Sam needed to believe in. Sam has had something wrong with him and he’s not all bad, he was worth saving, others are worth it too and Sam needs to believe that. Jack maybe will vindicate Sam in this by the end while Nick is proving to Sam that isn’t always true and I think being faced with that is breaking Sam’s heart. No not everyone is worth saving. Not everyone can be saved.
It’s almost like survivor’s guilt. Sam is a good man. Sam had demon blood in him, he’s made mistakes, he’s done some terrible things, he’s been through some stuff, and he is worth saving. Sam doesn’t seem himself as worth it while others as less worthy, and he’s having trouble not over-identifying on this issue. This is a very long arc for Sam--think back to S8 and Sam talking about knowing as a child he was tainted, that he’d never qualify as a knight, as a pure hero he saw in the books about King Arthur.
But those are idealizations of the heroic paradigm. Someone can still be heroic while being tainted and imperfect. Sam’s figuring this out but he’s still struggling with the object of the proof that not everyone is worth being saved: Nick.
I am not here for Nick beating up Sam. :((((((((((
I am here for badass Dean which is always good to see.
Oh no Sam. :((((((((((((((
“Count with me.”
“You always put me first. Your whole life.”
Look I know Sam won’t die-die for good yet but this is still upsetting, Dean trying to keep Sam with him and Sam deciding that should be his final words to Dean, because he’s aware of all Dean took on and he’s grateful. Sam knows. This is also a mirror flip on Dean’s head injury in Ouroboros. This made my heart ache. :(
No can we not have Lucifer back please? I adore 98% of the characters on this show, I’m serious, I am an ensemble gal, but Lucifer’s story has, for reals, played out. Nick is irredeemably awful and dull, Lucifer is boring and selfish and cruel and petulant and I’m bored. Luckily for me neither is being presented as someone I am supposed to or expected to feel sympathy for and I hope it stays that way.
Hey SPN, you’ve successfully made me feel zero sympathy for characters who I clearly am supposed to feel zero sympathy for! You did your job! But do you realize how dull this is? I’m not sure this is supposed to be so dull.
Jack just saying no to Lucifer. Bye, Lucifer! Thank you, Jack!
Thank you Jack for saving Sam!
Hey Jack’s not doing too badly for someone’s who’s soulless...oops wait. No this is not good.
Look I get the way Jack killed Nick is not good and soulless Jack is really dangerous and that was a horrible way to kill someone which Jack didn’t have to do, he could have done it mercifully and didn’t. Of course Mary is horrified witnessing that, and I would be too, but otoh thank you, Jack for dispensing with Nick who is not just murderous. Murderous can be interesting, there are lots of interesting villains out there. But he is just so boring. The drama of Mary’s distress at what Jack did is undercut a bit here because I’m not sorry someone kills Nick. I rarely ever root for any character to die, even ones I dislike (just write them off maybe) but I’m making an exception.
Really Jack’s doing me some solids in this ep.
And then a bad.
Okay, bad Jack. No, Jack, don’t hurt Mary. Which, I been knew, something bad would happen to Mary, telegraphed all ep, and there it is, after all that closure. It’s left ambiguous exactly what happened though. Is she dead? Is she banished to another AU world? Turned into a woodland creature? Was it even Jack who did it? We don’t know what exactly happened yet.
#Sam Winchester#Dean Winchester#Castiel#Jack Kline#supernatural#Mary Winchester#Sam and Dean: a work in progress#Team Free Will 2.0#anti-Nick#anti-Lucifer#SPN#supernatural spoilers#meta
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