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bubblesuga · 3 years

Text

off the table.

Summary: Fate has an odd way of playing with your mind. When you leave Min Yoongi on his door step nearly a decade ago, you became positive that you would never find love again. Settling for a man you thought you could learn to love, you had given up on fully moving on. But again, fate likes to play.

W/C: 11,680

Genre: Idol!AU, smut, fluff

Warnings: cussing, smut, mentions of exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, Jimin is curious about Yoongi’s (non-existent) sex life,

A/N: Based loosely off of Off The Table by Ariana Grande if you want a song to listen to as you read :) x

“So, this is it then?”

“Yeah.”

The near migraine-inducing memory always happens to flash in your mind at the worst times possible. Eight years ago, you found yourself standing at the front door of your ex boyfriend’s dorm with a solemn heart as he softly explained what his life was going to turn into. It was a short conversation, one the both of you had seen coming but neither of you wanted to admit it.

As his new friends and new life began to form behind him in the small one bedroom apartment, you nodded, and you left with one last kiss to his rosy lips. His deep brown eyes bore into yours with just as much sadness that you felt before you dragged yourself away helplessly.

Of course, now that you were 3 months into a new relationship, the memory decides to pop it’s way back into your brain as if it had just happened. A soft whisper in your mind gently coaxed you away from your latest fling and disassociated you from the moment entirely. He’s a nice guy, as well. Good head on his shoulders, smart with money, and loves to cook for you. So the sense of guilt you felt was tremendous because despite having this gorgeous man in front of you, your mind always flew back to him.

It has become more and more difficult not to think of him considering the fact that his face is now everywhere. The news, the internet, your fucking cold brew... He was there, the same bright features and adorable nose. You wondered if he thought of you from time to time, how you’re doing or what you could be up to since you graduated university. With as hectic of a schedule that you’re sure he held, you highly doubted that you have been on his mind since the end. Knowing him, he threw himself into his work and hasn’t looked back. It shows in his music, though. You always knew that he would be successful.

“...are you even listening to me?”

The words dragged you out of your trance and you immediately set down your coffee, “What? Of course I am.”

Junwoo couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “What was I talking about then?”

Fuck.

You push your hair back, a habit you developed recently as your desire to try and forget about your ex boyfriend has grown stronger, “I’m sorry, I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.”

Maybe it hasn’t just been lately. Maybe every single time you feel Junwoo’s lips against yours, you can’t help but compare him to Yoongi. He didn’t need to know that, though.

“Yeah, you use that a lot as your excuse. I’ll try not to bore you with tales from my clients anymore.” Junwoo slides the plate in front of you, a heart shaped kimchi pancake lay flat in the middle of it, and you feel your guilt grow stronger.

“No! I love hearing about them, I- I think I need to see someone about what’s going on in my head.” You explain. You had yet to mention to anyone that you dated Suga of BTS before he was known as such. In fact, you’re pretty sure if you even hinted at it, you’d become the laughing stock of Seoul. It made it impossibly difficult to talk about your feelings with Junwoo. He always tries to pry, but you shut him down completely.

“What’s going on? Is it serious?” concern laces his features and he sits carefully beside you at the table.

“No, I just need someone to talk to.” you try to shake the feeling of discontent when his arm wraps around your shoulder.

He leans his head on yours- “you can always talk to me.” -you shutter.

“A professional, just to help me get back on my game. Regain control of...” you let out a soft sigh and feel Junwoo’s lips brush against your temple, “...myself.”

“_____, I am a literal therapist.”

“A literal therapist who is emotionally involved with me. Isn’t it inappropriate to make out with your patients?” You quirk, raising an eyebrow.

He rolls his eyes again, “Okay. Let me know if you need recommendations. Us in the brain community are pretty tight-knit.” He stands up and runs a hand through your hair before trotting back to the kitchen to begin his own breakfast.

You nibble on the inside of your cheek as you stare down at your pancake, picking up the butter knife beside your plate and dragging it down the center with a grimace on your face.

~*~*~

Even though you spent many years studying medicine, you didn’t think it would involve this much typing. Staring at patient charts has become a normal during your regular work day, especially since you’re boss decided that he didn’t need to look at the charts, he just wanted to hear from you.

You’re a nurse, not a secretary.

Today you were assigned to the emergency room, which was one of your favorite places to be. Everything was much faster than if you happened to be in post-op or general medicine, but the moment you enter the doors, you were piled with paperwork that you were sure a medical assistant could be doing.

The drowning sounds of chatter and machine’s melodic beeping blended with your fingers as they typed name after name, number after number for an hour straight. Just as you thought your soul had completely drained from your body, you hear a tap on the desk.

“H- hi, uh- my friend’s foot got cut open and we think he needs stitches. Is there any way that we could get seen quickly?” You glance up and your eyes immediately go wide.

You remember meeting Namjoon a few times in passing when you were still seeing Yoongi, but he’s much taller than you remember. Instantly you feel your face go red, and you were frozen in place. Why the hell was Namjoon here? How did he manage to choose this hospital of all the ones in Seoul?

You happen to tear your eyes away from him for a second, glancing over and seeing Jungkook being held up by Jimin as his foot stays elevated in the air. The minute you see a t-shirt wrapped tightly around Jungkook’s foot, you move to action.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that! Let me get you a wheelchair,” you swing around the desk and grab one of the folded up wheelchairs and roll it towards Jungkook. He grimaces as he sits down, his foot crossed onto the opposite knee. Jimin seems relieved not to have his friend leaning on him anymore, and you pause for a second to assess the situation.

“Jenni! Do we have an open bed anywhere?” You grab your co worker who walks passed you with her hands filled with bandages.

“Back corner, we just cleaned it.” She calls back, walking without glancing at the people you’re trying to help.

You nod, immediately walking Jungkook towards the back and gesturing for Namjoon and Jimin to follow. You grab an empty chart as you walk, before opening the curtain for the bed and allowing the three men to slide into the area.

“I hate to be pushy but this really hurts.” Jungkook hisses as wrap your arm beneath his and slowly lift him towards the bed. Immediately, you slip gloves onto your hands and begin to unwrap the t-shirt. There’s quite a bit of blood, but not enough to have you worried that he hit an artery.

Namjoon bites his lip before speaking, “I should have watched the stage better. I’m sorry.”

Jungkook shrugs, wincing while he attempts to pull himself up higher, “It was hard to see. Not your fault, or anyone else’s.”

“Except for the person who broke the stage.” Namjoon quips, rubbing his hands over his face, frustrated.

“It’s fine, hyung. The pretty nurse is going to fix Kookie right up.” Jimin is quick to comfort both of his friends while simultaneously causing you to blush.

It’s then that you notice the three of them in clothes similar to their rehearsal getup from all those years ago. Sweat lines each of their foreheads and you wonder just how this whole thing happened.

After inspecting the wound, you whip towards the suture kit, “It is deep enough to require stitches. I’m going to call the doctor down and have her suture you up. Until then would you like me to numb the pain?” Even though you’re well aware who these men are, and how close you potentially are to your ex boyfriend, you can’t help but let your professional prowess overpower your incessant need to think of Yoongi.

Jungkook nods, “At this point I’ll take a shot of whiskey and something to knock me out.”

You smile, “Unfortunately there isn’t any whiskey here. Believe me, I’ve been searching since I got here.”

Namjoon chuckles from beside you as you put your finger up to let them know you’ll be right back. Pulling open the curtain, you meander over to the nurse’s station and pick up the phone to call the ER doctor down. As you wait for him, you grab all the supplies to clean Jungkook’s foot, including a Lidocaine injection. Before you get the chance to turn back around, you hear the ER doors burst open and see four sweaty men tearing their way into the hospital.

Four sweaty men, including Min Yoongi.

An uncharacteristic whimper leaves your lips as you spot the rest of the members, all rushing passed you when they see Namjoon stick his head out of the curtains.

You feel all the blood drain from your face when the familiarity of Yoongi’s presence passes by you. Jenni notices your panic from the other side of the nurse’s station and lets out a little giggle, “Come on, you can’t get all shy just because they’re BTS. You have a job to do.”

“I can’t go in there now, Jenni. You have to take over.” You turn back to her with wild eyes, desperately trying to hand her all the supplies you gathered. Your eyes continuously glance backwards, watching them pile in. Yoongi can’t see you, you won’t be able to look the man in the eyes. You can’t even begin to think about the embarrassment you will feel if Yoongi sees you.

Jenni only laughs, “You’re a professional. Dr. Gwan will be down soon so you only have to be with them for a few moments.”

In a last ditch effort, you call out to her as she walks towards another patient.

Okay. You’re panicking now.

The universe has to be playing some sort of sick game on you right about now. You have not been able to get that stupid man off your mind lately and now here he was in your emergency room. First he’s worried about his brother but now he’s going to see you and want to chat and catch up. Knowing him, he’ll ask you for coffee and you’ll probably learn of his girlfriend or possible wife. He’ll wonder why you’re not married yet, and you’ll have to hide the fact that you haven’t been able to properly move on because of him.

That’s only to say if he even remembers you.

Taking a deep breath, you swallow your anxiety and enter the curtain.

“Alright, Jungkook. Do you have any allergies that I should know about before I inject you with my magic numbing liquid?” It’s much more cramped in the room than it was before. The 6 members crowd to one side of the bed while you stand on the other. You refuse to look up for fear that Yoongi is going to recognize you.

“No allergies.” Jungkook shakes his head.

“Good, good,” you lean forward, elevating Jungkook’s foot and removing the make shift bandage, “you’re gonna feel a slight pinch.”

“He’s not going to lose his foot or anything, right?” A voice asks. You recognize it as Taehyung’s.

“No,” you’re sure they can sense how rigid you are, “he’s not going to be able to dance for a little bit, but he’ll be back and better than ever in no time.” No one responds, and you finally make eye contact with Jungkook, “Are you ready?”

Again, he nods, and you slowly push the needle into his foot. He cringes enough to jerk his upper body slightly, but Jimin is at his side just as quickly as it started.

You dispose of the needle immediately afterwards, wrapping his foot up to keep pressure applied to the wound, “Okay, Dr. Gwan will be here soon. She’ll get you sutured up and I’ll be back later to check on you.”

“Thank you, miss. It already feels better.” He sighs happily, relaxing backwards onto the pillow.

You grin, momentarily forgetting that your ex boyfriend is 3 feet away, “Of course, Jungkook. That’s my job.”

It’s then that you catch Yoongi’s eye for the first time that night. It’s not to say he didn’t recognize you before, but he wasn’t able to say anything once he saw you working. He was deathly still, the rest of the day leaving his mind when your shiny eyes met his. He sees you swallow, and you walk out without saying anything else.

“That was _____.” Yoongi murmurs after a moment, staring at the swaying curtains where you once exited.

The chatter stops instantly, and everyone turns to Yoongi.

“The _____?” Hoseok questions, his eyes wide while he also turns to watch the curtains.

Yoongi nods, his throat going dry as memories of you sleeping beside him at night when he had nothing to his name wash over him. You, with the exception of his brother, were the only person supporting him when he said he wanted a career in music. You applied to universities in Seoul so you could be closer to his dream, you were always so excited to hear his new music and you always told him that he was going to make it big.

It’s not like Yoongi hadn’t thought of you since you broke up. He was a complete mess for months afterwards. His schedule solely consisted of working and rehearsing because he couldn’t bare to have a moment to himself.

Yoongi repeatedly beat himself up for the way he ended things and more specifically, the reason he ended things. After getting into BigHit, Yoongi realized he was seeing less and less of you. You were so busy with med school and he was so busy with rehearsals that you were lucky to see each other once a week. He knew you’d be better off finding someone who could be there for you, and that it was best for him to focus on his career.

He just wasn’t aware of how much that would kill him inside.

“Well what are you doing here? Aren’t you going to go talk to her?” Seokjin pushes. There are times when Yoongi has to remind himself that he isn’t the oldest in the group, and that usually comes when Seokjin takes his role as older brother very seriously.

Yoongi scoffs at the taller man, “What do you want me to say? ‘Hey I know it’s been 8 years but lets meet up for coffee and pretend like we didn’t break each other’s hearts’?” he takes a moment to collect his thoughts, “Besides, Jungkook needs us here while he gets his foot stabbed.”

“Oh no, hyung,” Jungkook laughs, “I’m doing juuuust fine. You go talk to the pretty nurse.”

Yoongi swallows, “What should I say?”

Namjoon shrugs, “Whatever comes to mind.”

Yoongi’s feet carry him out of the curtained off area, his eyes searching across the emergency room in an attempt to find you. He spots you at the desk by the front door, and with a nervous head tilt, he’s dragging himself towards you.

The moment you left Jungkook, you threw yourself back into paperwork and became so immersed that you didn’t hear anything going on around you. Except for the soft footsteps pattering up to your station, which causes you to tear your eyes away from the chicken scratch handwriting on the chart in front of you.

It’s silent for a beat, you can feel the heat rising to your ears as you look up at him. His hair is longer, different from the short style he’d gel up every morning before the break up. There’s more piercings on his ears, but at the core of the new flashy clothes and dyed hair, he’s still the same man who professed his love for you at 17 years old.

“Hi.” he whispers.

“...hi.” you respond, your hands still frozen over the keyboard as Yoongi fiddles with his fingers on top of the desk.

“Thank you for helping-” Yoongi is cut off by another Nurse calling you over from a different bed in the emergency room.

You give him a quick glance, “I’m sorry, duty calls.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but feel his heartbeat quicken when you stand. He had a better look at the pink scrubs donned on your body, and the smile on his face was nearly uncontrollable when he realizes that you made it exactly where you wanted to be. Your dreams of helping people has now become a reality.

You’re truly in your element, and Yoongi can tell. The concern on your face as you help a little girl sat in the center of a bed way too big for her was a sure fire way to know that you were in the right place.

So, Yoongi doesn’t push a conversation. Instead, he walks back to his band mates and watches in awe as Dr. Gwan stitches up Jungkook’s foot.

~*~*~

“He walked away.”

“He walked away?!”

“He. Walked. Away.” You emphasize to Jenni, holding your hands to your face while you let out a groan.

“Okay, so let me get this straight,” she sets down her iced americano, the chatter of the hospital cafeteria drowned out by your conversation, “you dated Suga from BTS before he was famous, and he broke up with you because you were both leading different lives?”

You nod.

She continues, “and you see him in person for the first time in 8 years, and you don’t talk to him?!”

“Wait why are you yelling at me?!”

“Because, dummy,” she leans over the table and flicks your forehead, “he’s been on your mind a lot lately and suddenly he’s at your job! It’s not a coincidence.”

It’s only been about a week since you saw Yoongi, and of course your attempts to get him out of your mind has been fruitless.

“What am I meant to do? Drop everything and run to him?” You ask incredulously, angrily digging your spoon in your yogurt.

Jenni waves her hand haphazardly, “No, no. You catch up with him, see how he’s doing now that he’s a world famous rapper- oh my god, _____ you let go of him?! You didn’t fight for him?!”

“You said you weren’t going to judge me!”

“That was before I learned exactly what you did! Dumb girl,” Jenni shakes her head disapprovingly, “and you’ve settled for Mr. Brainiac instead.”

Jenni isn’t the biggest fan of Junwoo.

“Mr. Brainiac is nice and sweet and knows how to treat me right,” You explain quietly, the fruit in your yogurt seemingly tasteless on your tongue, “but...”

“But he’s not Yoongi?” Jenni tilts her head.

“I don’t think anyone can ever compare to Yoongi. I’m sure it’s unrequited at this point.” As much as you hate to admit it, that’s the part that broke your heart the most about seeing Yoongi. The fact that you couldn’t bare to look at him for more than a second, because it just wasn’t the same as before. It will never been the same as before.

Jenni shrugs, “you won’t know until you find out.”

“And I’m supposed to... what? Show up at his house?”

Jenni’s eyes seem to trail behind you, and a grin on her face, “When is Jungkook supposed to get his sutures removed?”

Confused, you raise an eyebrow and turn around in your chair to see none other than the man of the hour, Min Yoongi. Instead of being dressed in rehearsal clothes like the other day, Yoongi wears all black with a silver bag wrapped around his torso.

You whip back around and glare at Jenni, “I swear to god if you call him-”

“Suga!” Jenni calls out before you can finish your sentence. Your head falls into your hands with another frustrated moan. Jenni waves her hand to him, Yoongi watching warily before he spots that you’re sat right across from her.

He hesitates for a moment, noticing the way you drag knees to your chest which is a nervous tick you have had since before Yoongi had met you. However, he realizes that if he ever wants to talk to you, now would be the best time. Having followed Jungkook to the hospital for the sole purpose of possibly bumping into you, he had to make due with any interaction he could get.

Jenni gets up and leaves as Yoongi walks his way over to you. Your head is now buried in your knees, but you hear the chair screech across from you.

“Hi again.”

You lift your head up, “Hi, Suga. How is life?”

You can see hurt flash through Yoongi’s face at your use of his stage name, but he shakes it off, “Life is going pretty well. How about yours?”

“It’s going well.”

You still haven’t made direct eye contact with him. Despite having not seen you in person in so many years, his heart ached in his chest at the thought that you may still be hurt. Who is he kidding, though? He’s still hurt by the decision himself.

With a sigh, he scoots his chair forward, “Are we going to pretend that there isn’t a history behind us?”

You laugh bitterly, “Haven’t you been doing a pretty good job of that for the passed eight years?”

Yoongi’s jaw drops. You don’t remember Yoongi ever showing his emotions so freely on his face. That was one of the good things from the interviews you have seen, those 6 boys have opened up Yoongi more and more to his emotions. You feel bad for your response, but you’re unsure how to apologize.

“I didn’t want to end things just much as you didn’t,” He bites, ignoring the tinge in his heart, “I want to catch up. It’s nice seeing you again.”

“I have a boyfriend.” You say, your yogurt seeming much more interesting than it was moments before.

He clears his throat, “That’s okay.”

“Because I had to move on.”

“That’s okay.” He repeats, his fingertips drumming along the table top. He hasn’t been chewing his nails lately. That’s good for him. Though, the nervous habit has developed into something different, the drumming of his finger tips echoing more and more in your head as the awkward silence mulls on. Even in a loud cafeteria, your mind only focused on him.

With out thinking much of it, you reach your hand forward and place it on top of his to get the drumming to stop. Yoongi looks up at you while you hold your hand atop of his. For a moment, the silence continues as you stare into his deep brown eyes. You’re transported back to your late teens, where you felt as though you were on top of the world with Min Yoongi by your side. He stared at you as if you were his entire universe, spending night after night cuddled up together, talking about your dreams and aspirations while simultaneously chasing them together.

Well, it used to be together, but instead you had to push yourself through your dreams alone.

Yoongi’s the first to break the silence, letting a dry chuckle fall effortlessly from his lips while he stares down at your touching hands, “You used to do the same thing if you saw me biting my nails.”

Even though you want to be mad, you wand to walk away and never speak to him again, you can’t. Instead, you nibble on your lip in an attempt to stifle your giggle. Yoongi notices and realizes he’s making good headway into conversation.

“You told me to help you stop, the only thing that seemed to get you to stop was-”

“Your touch?” Yoongi suggests, a teasing gummy grin on his face.

“Yeah,” you finally let out a laugh, “my touch distracted you from a lot of things.”

The people in the cafeteria didn’t seem to be bothered by the two of you in the center of the room. Busy doctors and nurses trying to get their lunch in, loved ones of patients desperately waiting to hear if their surgeries went well, all is forgotten as you fall into the same pit you found yourself in many years ago. Bottomless, but bright. Visions of the future dancing along you as you fall deeper and deeper. Although now, it seems to be visions of what could have been.

“Of course it did, how could I focus when I had your pretty face in front of me?” Yoongi’s tone is still teasing, but melancholy wades through his words.

You slip your hand away hesitantly, and Yoongi’s wrist twitches at the sudden loss of contact. “That’s the reason it ended, isn’t it?”

This is a conversation that Yoongi is not ready for, but at this point he’ll take anything he can get with you, “What do you mean?”

“You broke up with me because you knew I’d distract you from your dream.”

He brings the hand you once held upward, scorching skin touching the back of his neck nervously as he takes a deep breath, “I’d be lying if I said that didn’t play a part.”

You inhale and drop your legs from the edge of your chair before leaning forward. After years of questioning whether or not you would ever move on, you finally have the chance to get some closure. “What was the final straw?”

He bites his lip, “I was able to fall asleep without you.”

You didn’t think you’d be able to feel your heart sink as deep as it has. Even after all these years, your emotions are bubbling to the surface. How can something so simple break your heart so badly?

“You were in school during the day and I was training at night,” he continues, “we never saw each other and I struggled for so long to fall asleep without you next to me. Then... one day my head hit the pillow and I fell asleep immediately.”

Another knife to your chest.

“Did you struggle at all? After the break up, I mean.” You try to search for some sense of regret in his eyes but he’s always been very good at putting up a wall and having people fight for a way in.

He laughs bitterly, “Of course I struggled. Are you kidding me? I thought I was going to marry you, have kids with you. I was nearly inconsolable once it really set in that you weren’t going to be with me anymore.”

You swallow anxiously, “But it was really for the best, yeah? You’ve got your career and I’ve got mine. We’re both successful. Given, you’re entirely more successful than I am but I’m happy with where I’m at.”

“Don’t say that,” Yoongi breaths, “you worked your ass off to get to where you are, you’re just as successful as I am.”

“You think we wouldn’t have got to where we are if we stayed together.” It’s more of a statement than a question, but Yoongi seems to ponder on his answer.

“I think we were young and didn’t know much about life. It was a shitty time for both of us, but I did and still do think that in some aspect of the word, you are my soulmate.”

Your breath hitches at the word.

Beyond already having thought this yourself, the realization that Yoongi thinks it as well causes your chest to flush with heat. The adoration you felt years ago when Yoongi’s hair was always styled neatly in a mohawk and you had no clue how to use eyeliner still rests itself neatly at the bottom of your heart. Hearing Yoongi even say the word ‘soulmate’ nearly reduced you to a puddle of tears.

Yoongi notices that you haven’t let out a breath, “Fuck,” he’s panicking, running his hand anxiously through his hair, “fuck. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to freak you out, I- I-” He cuts himself off and allows his head to fall into his hands.

A moment passes, and he seems to gather himself once he hears you exhale, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I saw you last. I dreamed about what I wanted to say to you and insisted on being the one to drive Jungkook to the hospital today with just the hope and slightest chance that I might run into you.”

“What’s your plan here, then?”

“I want to be friends.” He proposes.

You scoff, “Do you have time for friends now?”

He sighs, expecting the reply but still feeling his chest tighten, “Let’s hang out on a day where the two of us have nothing going on. When are you off next?”

“I have a boyfriend.” You reiterate, raising an eyebrow.

“Not a date,” he dismisses you, “just as friends. When are you off next?”

Crossing your arms, you eye him suspiciously as he widens his eyes in an attempt to push you towards an answer.

“Saturday.”

“Great,” he breathes, “I’ll make sure I’m free that day too.”

~*~*~

Maybe you are taking a bit too much time getting ready for a man who has already seen you at your worst. Maybe you purposely wore purple lipstick in an attempt to show that you have been paying attention to his career and maybe, just maybe, you are way too happy to be hanging out with Min Yoongi once again.

That doesn’t take away from your nervousness, though. Your hand shakes as you finish applying your mascara. You don’t live in a nice mansion like Yoongi does, and you’re terrified that someone will spot him picking you up from your apartment and all hell will break loose. You’ve read some of the tabloids involving anyone close to the group, so your anxiety is nearly palpable.

“Get a grip,” you whisper to yourself, “you’ve seen this man naked before. There’s no need to be nervous.”

As you finish your make up, you move on to your hair but stop once you hear a knock on your door.

Yoongi isn’t supposed to be here for another half hour.

“Fuck.” you whisper, standing quickly from your vanity mirror and rushing towards the front door in a panic. You peep through the lens in the door, confusion striking you when you spot Junwoo.

The lock turns loudly and you slide open the door, “Hi?”

His eyes raise from the ground until he meets yours, “You’re awfully dressed up just to be hanging at home.”

“I have plans.” You state, slipping your undone hair behind your ear. You couldn’t help but notice the instant meekness you felt take over your body the moment you saw Junwoo.

“With me?” He questions, stepping into your apartment. His black hair is pushed back with way too much gel to be comfortable, the honey brown eyes that usually comforted you suddenly made you feel uneasy.

You shake your head in response, “An old friend. He and I are-”

“He?” Junwoo cuts you off, much louder than he was moments before. You take a step back at the sudden change of tone, your jaw nearly dropping at his audacity.

“Yes, he. Is that a problem?” It was probably in your best interest not to challenge Junwoo. If there is anything you learned in your short time together it’s that he was very good at manipulating your words. He claims it’s his way of reading deeper into the situation but you think your intentions are pretty surface-level.

Junwoo didn’t seem to expect your attitude, backing down immediately with a nervous scratch to the back of his neck. “Well, I don’t know how I feel about you hanging out with another guy.”

A scoff leaves your mouth as you scan Junwoo’s posture change, “Are you one of those people who assumes men and women can’t be platonic friends?”

“Yes.”

Well, at least he’s honest.

You roll your eyes, “I can assure you that he’s just a friend.”

A friend who you have a long, egregious history with. A friend who’s lips have touched every inch of your body, has seen you break down over text books and has kissed away your tears when you were beginning to reach adulthood.

But yeah, a friend nonetheless.

“Are you still going to hang out with him if I tell you I’m uncomfortable with it?” Junwoo presses, puffing out his chest.

“I don’t feel like you have the right to tell me who I can and can’t be friends with,” you furrow your brows, “why are you even here?”

“I wanted to take you to the park, but that’s not important. Were you going to tell me that you were going out with a guy?” Man, Junwoo’s ability to annoy the fuck out of you has seemingly grown beyond a point of retribution in the short 10 minutes he’s been in front of you.

As you open your mouth to respond, another knock sounds on the door. You let out a small groan, reaching towards the doorknob and turning it swiftly. On the other side is Yoongi, a striped black and white button down unbuttoned on his torso with a white t-shirt underneath. He’s certainly gotten a better fashion sense.

“Hi, Yoongi. I’m almost ready,” you send a glare in Junwoo’s direction, “I have to finish my hair and I’ll be ready.”

Junwoo is staring wide-eyed at Yoongi with his jaw dropped. Yoongi looks back at him and subtly crinkles his nose, just enough for you to spot it.

After a moment, you break the silence, “Yoongi, this is Junwoo. Junwoo,” you gesture to Yoongi, “Suga of BTS.”

Yoongi lets out a laugh, “Stop introducing me like that to people.”

“That is your name, isn’t it?” You tease, spinning the black hat on his head backwards. “Anyway, are you heading out, Junwoo?”

“You didn’t tell me that it was Suga you were hanging out with.” Junwoo speaks accusingly, making you realize that you truly didn’t make any progress throughout your entire conversation.

“He’s an old friend,” you explain, “I’ll call you later.”

Junwoo opens his mouth but closes it again. You know it’s more than likely because he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of someone so influential. Junwoo cared too much about his image to do anything to disrupt it. One bad word from Yoongi and he was done for.

Silently, he steps out of your apartment but doesn’t hesitate on slamming the door shut.

Yoongi glances at you and points to the door, “Him?”

“I never claimed to make good decisions.” You sigh, causing Yoongi to giggle. “Anyway, let me finish my hair. Help yourself to anything here.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You hesitate for a moment before deciding that you didn’t have anything in particular that Yoongi could accidentally get his hands on that would be embarrassing.

As you walk out of the room, Yoongi runs his fingers along the picture frames on your wall. He remembers these pictures previously sitting on your desk in your parents’ house. Now they were lined perfectly across the off-white painted wall in your living room, images of your family and close friends filling the black painted frames.

He smiles at the picture of your mother, you’re an exact replica of her. One of the first things he struggled with beyond not seeing you anymore was the fact that he wouldn’t see your family. Despite your relationship being short lived in the beginning, he had grown very close to your family in the process. After the break up, your mother called Yoongi repeatedly asking if he needed food and clothes. He knows that you gained your big heart from her, and he wishes that he can speak with her again.

Moving on, he spots the familiar picture of you leaning against a bookshelf with Le Fleurs Du Mal by Charles Baudelaire gripped loosely in your hands. He remembers that picture from the end of high school, you insisted on stopping by the local Daegu city library one last time before you both moved to Seoul. Yoongi snapped the picture as an opportunity to remember your hometown, because he was sure the two of you would never be back there again. You would stay together and conquer the world, but unfortunately that never happened.

Yoongi can’t help but run his fingers along the side of your face, your smile hiding behind the book. Yoongi’s reflection can be seen in the window behind you, his grin just as wide as yours.

You were in love, and Yoongi misses that.

Of course now it’s not like he can do anything about that. You have a boyfriend who is clearly very loving and trusting in you.

Yoongi wasn’t necessarily sure what his plan was when he was searching for you in the hospital, nor was he sure what his plan is now that he has you within arms reach of him. Namjoon was sure to tell him how stupid he was for even attempting to get involved with you again even though you have a boyfriend but Yoongi didn’t care. So long as you were in his life somehow, he was willing to make it work. Friends, maybe more. He wasn’t sure, but he wanted whatever he could get.

He did...okay for a few years without you. He dated on and off but never really developed a connection with anyone the way he had you. He couldn’t help but compare everyone who came into his life to you no matter how hard he tried not to. It’s laughable at best, because deep down in his mind he’s well aware that nobody will ever compare to you.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Yoongi tears his eyes away from the picture and instantaneously rakes his eyes up and down your body, “Whoa.”

Dressed in a simple leggings and plaid button down combination, it accentuates your curves and causes Yoongi’s mouth to water.

You let out an embarrassed giggle, “I, uh- I wasn’t sure what we were doing to I tried to dress casually.”

Yoongi doesn’t stop his eyes from staring at your hips, “It works. Everything about you, works.”

“Careful now.” You warn jokingly, putting a hand out in an attempt to pause his thoughts.

Yoongi shakes his head, “Okay, I have a reservation ready for us.”

You lead him out your door and to the car park, “You better not be taking me to some expensive restaurant because I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

“Nah,” Yoongi shakes his head, opening the passenger side door for you, “but if you still love chicken then I may have found the greatest restaurant in existence.”

Slipping into his car, you wait to respond until he moves over to the drivers side and turns the car on. “You remember that I love chicken?”

He smiles, gummy and bright just like before, “I remember everything about you.”

You ignore the flutter in your heart at his words, and sit silently beside him while the radio plays softly from his speakers. The car is far nicer than the one he used to have, and the seats have a warmer that Yoongi seemed to know the perfect temperature of. As he continues to drive on, you try not to watch the way his left hand grips the steering wheel and his right sits idly on his thigh.

8 years ago, that hand would have been resting on your thigh, fingertips brushing the inner part of your softest flesh while you leaned your head back listened to the melodic tunes of whatever song he made most recently. A few of those tunes have been turned into BTS songs, and you still felt beyond proud of him.

“Okay, we have to go around the back and through the kitchen. I just don’t want to risk-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you cut him off, waving your hand dismissively, “you’re hot shot famous guy now. Don’t want to risk getting seen with a lady.”

Yoongi chuckles, “I may be some hot shot famous guy but I’m still the same person I was a decade ago.”

You watch as he turns the car off, “Prove it.”

“What?” He laughs in disbelief.

“Prove that you’re the same person you were all those years ago.” You push, tongue in cheek while you smirk at the man beside you. He seems to ponder for a moment, puckering his lips in thought before he exits the car and runs over to your side of the car.

“Come on,” he gestures for you to get up, “hurry up.”

“Hold your horses, Mister.” you adjust the bag around your torso as you stand and let your eyes fall back to Yoongi. His back is to you and his knees are bent. Hands reach backwards for you and he turns to look at you expectantly.

Tilting your head, you smile as you hop onto Yoongi’s back. A move he’d do regularly when you’d spend hours on your feet interning at various hospitals around the city. His large hands gripped the back of your thighs and you let out a squeal as he hikes you up until your legs are wrapped around his waist.

It takes a moment for him to steady his walk as he leads you carefully up to the back door. You lean upward and knock on the back door labeled “staff only” and wait patiently as you feel Yoongi adjust you again.

“You used to carry me around like this all the time.” You grin, wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug. It didn’t feel weird hugging him like this. Natural instincts kicked in and the whiff of his cologne had you reeling. It’s exactly the same as he wore before, and his hair smelled of coconut conditioner. Before you would turn his head and kiss his lips every time you caught his scent, and it’s taking everything in you right now not to do exactly that.

“I did,” you can hear the smile in Yoongi’s voice, “and you never reciprocated.”

“I’ll give you a piggy back on the way out, how about that?” You pat the top of his head as the door opens to reveal a very confused looking employee.

A sheepish smile is held on Yoongi’s face while the employee realizes who he is. “Mr. Min,” he bows his head, “lovely to have you again. We have your usual table set up in the back.”

“Awesome,” Yoongi drawls sweetly, “lead the way!”

Heat fills your face as the kitchen staff of the unnamed restaurant watch curiously while Yoongi walks you to the table.

He doesn’t allow you to get off, instead he turns around and drops you onto the booth seat as you try to silence the squeal that leaves your mouth. Yoongi only laughs as he flips back around to see the top half of your body slip between the table and the seat. He’s quick to help you up but his arms grow weak from laughing so he takes a few moments to pull you back up. You couldn’t help but laugh as well, the ridiculousness of the situation bringing back memories.

“I’m sorry,” he says, inhaling another laugh as he slips into the seat opposite of you, “I didn’t think you would fall.”

You adjust the hat on your head, “It’s fine, I didn’t need my equilibrium to work properly anyway.”

Yoongi can’t help but watch you carefully as you open the menu. Your nose still crinkled when you came across a dish you may not particularly like, and your eyes widened whenever you saw something that you thought looked good.

Both of you decided on a beer to drink and various flavors of dry rub wings to enjoy. As you waited on your food to be cooked, you sip your beer and suck your teeth while you decide whether or not you want to ask him all your dying questions.

Deciding to start small, you took a deep breath as Yoongi met your eyes, “How much did they have to fight you to get you to start dancing?”

He let out a sigh of relief, half expecting the awkwardness of your history together to take over, “I almost quit like four times, I won’t lie.”

You giggle, “I figured. You do well, though. I was amazed by your Seesaw performance when you started dancing on your own up there. Genuinely was the last thing I expected.

Yoongi doesn’t respond, he only smiles widely with his head rested gently on his hand. You tilt your head as his eyes scan yours, “What?” You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, wanting the world to swallow you up at the thought that you could have come across as weird or creepy by knowing so much about Yoongi’s career.

“You watch my performances?” He questions, his smile not dropping. A hint of pink brushes the tip of his nose.

“Of course,” you say almost incredulously, “you’re everywhere. It’s hard not to.”

“What’s your favorite song?” Yoongi presses, leaning forward to show you’ve piqued his interest.

Okay, there’s no way you’re going to let him think he has some sort of head over you.

“Cypher part 3.” you say confidently.

“Oh?”

“Mhm,” you hum, nibbling on the bottom of your lip for a moment before deciding to say why it was your favorite, “specifically the part where you say you’re a starfish feeding off the envy of others.”

“Ah, yes. Truly a fan favorite. You should hear the cheers when I explain what my tongue can do.” Yoongi whispers the latter half of his sentence, causing your throat to go dry. His tongue is skillful in many ways, not just rapping, and you were well aware of that. Decadence rested on the tip of his tongue, and you’d like to think that you contributed to his *ahem* practice.

He pulls away with a cheeky grin just as the waiter comes by with steaming plates of food.

The affect that his words had on you still amazes you to this day. Maybe he does have a head above you, and maybe you’re okay with that.

The rest of the dinner goes by with a breeze, the two of you laughing over drinks and trying each other’s food. It didn’t take long for you to fall into a comfortable fit with Yoongi, even though so much time had passed. It was like he never left, and he truly is still the same person he was before. He laughs the same, his shoulders shakes and his grin is always huge. Although his hair style changes and his fashion sense has gotten better, you still see the old Yoongi poking out whenever he laughed particularly hard.

Being face to face with him has allowed you to compare to the younger him, though. His face has slimmed and his voice has gotten deeper, the adam’s apple you kiss at night was larger than before and his neck was longer. Despite all that, he was still the same. Fame hadn’t changed him a bit.

The moment the check comes you snatch it up quickly.

“_____.” the way Yoongi says your name shoots a chill down your spine, but you ignore it when you slip your cash into the designated sleeve.

“Yoongi.” You mock, handing the sleeve back to the waitress who seems scared of Yoongi’s deep tone.

“I was supposed to pay.” He pouts, leaning back in the booth and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Be faster then.” You grin, standing up and crouching in front of Yoongi’s side.

He laughs, remembering your promise from earlier and slipping onto your back. The path you to through the kitchen is a bit less crowded now, but you felt the same amount of eyes on you the entire time. You felt much less embarrassed about it now, though, because Yoongi had a way of calming you down even at your worst points.

“The night is still young,” Yoongi speaks as he slips off of your back and unlocks his car, “would you like to revisit Yongsan Park?”

“Always.”

It wasn’t a far drive from the restaurant, and it was spent mostly talking about music and the new album that Yoongi was extremely proud of. Of course you had already listened to it but you didn’t want to take away from his excitement of showing you some of the songs.

When you made it to the park, the lights lining the jogging path were already on. You hadn’t expected it to be so dark yet but fall time always had a habit of sneaking up on you.

There was an intense rush of nostalgia associated with this park for the both of you. Nights where the two of you huddled close under the stars were spent here, right beneath the biggest tree in the park. It was unspoken that that was your spot, and you hadn’t been to it since you broke up.

Yet, muscle memory kicks in and both of your legs carry you right to the tree.

“Isn’t it funny how we spent so many nights here?” You bring up as you sit at the base of the tree.

Yoongi nods, “So many nights in this exact spot.”

“I love it here, it was our spot.”

Yoongi’s proximity to you is much closer than it should be but neither of you are making any move to change it. His shoulder brushes against yours and you resist the urge to rest your head on his shoulder.

“It still is.” He corrects, tapping your knee gently with his hand and resting in there.

You freeze for a moment, not knowing how to process his touch anymore but you can’t push him away. In fact, you’re relishing in the heat burning on your skin beneath his hand. It’s one of the best feelings in the world.

“Do you remember when you tried to scare me by climbing a tree and the branch broke?” Yoongi looks up, and you can tell he’s trying not to laugh at the memory.

“Yeah but that was because I was trying to get you back for pouring ice water on me when I fell asleep on my text book.” You roll your eyes at the memory, distinctly remembering the chill on your back while Yoongi cackled in your small one bedroom apartment.

That same cackle leaves Yoongi’s lips from beside you. You snap your head towards him, “Oh you think it’s funny still?”

“Yeah,” his laugh turns into a giggle, “you can still see the broken branch.”

“What?” You glance up, and sure enough the branch is still gone. Your jaw drops and you use your hands to push Yoongi over. He doesn’t fight you on it and falls with ease even though you didn’t use very much pressure at all, and you’re quick to try and wrestle him down. “It must be so funny,” you groan as you try to pin him down, straddling your legs on either side of his waist, “to still be pinned by- holy shit you’ve gotten strong.”

Yoongi takes his opportunity to flip the two of you over, switching positions and easily pinning your hands on either side of your head. Vaguely, you wonder how much time it took for him to gain so much strength, but your mind quickly shifts once you realize the precarious position that Yoongi has put you in.

Glancing down, you see his hips rest just above your navel, and images of the many nights you shared together flash through your mind. Rushed breathing and sweaty skin sticking together as you explored each other’s bodies and always found new ways to please each other. Briefly, a rush of heat flashes through your lower abdomen at the way your imagination flushes with possibilities of Yoongi’s touch.

You inhale, your chest heaving and Yoongi’s eyes fly to the way your cleavage displays itself for him. You’ve gotten fuller than before, and it suits you. He’s enjoying every second of it.

Before he can stop himself, he leans down and smashes his lips onto yours. The grip on your wrists loosen just enough for you to slip out and have your hands flying to his cheeks. He tastes the same as he did before, his smell intoxicating as it fills your nose. Your senses are overwhelmed with him, his tastes, his scent, the way his lips feel against yours. The familiarity is there, but they feel new and exciting at the same time, like you were pushed back to your youth.

He exhales against you as if he’s been waiting all night to do just this. Slipping his legs out from beneath him, he presses his chest against yours as your hands slide to the back of his neck to hold him against you. The rest of the world falls, dissolving into nothing. You keen helplessly as you feel him grind against you, and that noise seems to push Yoongi over the edge. He growls into your mouth, pulling away to start his descent onto your neck with bites and licks in all the places you loved before.

Arching into him, your hands loop through his black locks with a gasp as his tongue licks at your wine kissed collarbones.

This is everything you’ve been wishing for. Everything feels so right.

Yet, it’s wrong. You need to stop him. You need to ask him to pull away. But you can’t. He feels too fucking good. It’s not until he reaches the stop of your chest, his fingers hesitantly reaching at your collar does he look into your eyes for permission.

And you stop him.

“I- I think I need to go have a very uncomfortable conversation with Junwoo.” You state, and Yoongi’s face drops.

“I can’t believe you still managed to think about him when I was kissing you.” He says nearly incredulously, crawling off of you and leaning his back against the tree again. His chest is rising and falling faster than before, showing that your affect on him was much stronger than you previously had thought.

Your heart twinged at Yoongi’s cold tone. You swallow, “If you think there’s a possibility of us continuing this, I have to end things with Junwoo.”

Yoongi whines, “Why now?”

You let out a little giggle, sitting up and leaning your head on his shoulder like you wanted to before. “Even if I didn’t do it right now, I don’t think we could go any further in the middle of a park.”

“I thought you liked exhibitionism.” Yoongi leans to the side, kissing you once again. It’s much breathier than before, and he prays that you don’t feel his heart pounding wildly in his rib cage at the mere thought of someone catching the two of you outside.

You gasp into the kiss and force yourself to pull away even though you didn’t want to at all. Giving him a look, Yoongi sighs.

“Okay, okay. I’ll drive you home so you can have that uncomfortable conversation.” He mutters, standing up and pulling you with him. He’s much more touchy than before, his arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders while he guides you back to his car.

The conversation you’re about to have with Junwoo will truly be one of the most anxiety inducing things you’ve ever done.

~*~*~

The dorms are dark when Yoongi arrives back. The living room in which everyone has a tendency to congregate after a particularly grueling practice day holds no one, a small reminder that everyone finally got some well deserved rest.

He hums softly to the tune of ‘People’, one of his favorite songs from his recent mixtape and opens the fridge to grab a bottle of water. When he closes it, Jimin is standing on the other side.

Yoongi jumps, “Jesus fucking christ, Park Jimin!”

“Didja get back together with her?”

“What?” Yoongi takes a second to assess Jimin’s pajama clad body, “N- no. We just hung out.”

“It’s a shame,” Jimin reaches forward and grabs the water bottle from Yoongi’s hand, “I heard you humming so I figured you finally got laid.” Yoongi opens his mouth to protest but Jimin continues before he can, “You know, I’ve known you for so long and I don’t think you’ve ever had a woman sign an NDA? Have you even had sex since you broke up with the pretty nurse?”

“I feel like that’s none of your business.” Yoongi yanks the water bottle back, opening it and praying that Jimin didn’t backwash.

“But it is my business because I have no clue how you did it. I’m sure she was fucking other guys regularly. I hear it’s bad for women to go without sex because they turn into-” Yoongi attempts to drown out the sounds of his roommate, his hand gripping the counter top tightly with unwanted images of you in another man’s bed ripping through his brain, “-and I’ve always wondered what it was like to only ever have your hand to get yourself off. Is it lonely? How much porn do you-”

“Jimin!” Yoongi shouts.

“Cutting me off is awfully rude, don’t you think?”

“Shut. the. fuck. up.” Yoongi grits his teeth, moving to walk away as Jimin laughs.

“Called it! I knew you were a born again virgi-”

“Goodnight!” Yoongi calls back, walking up to his room and locking the door behind him. He plops down onto his bed, the TV situated perfectly level with his bed. It’s a stark contrast to the small black and white TV he could afford all those years ago, so the familiar sound of his TV sounding on brings a smile to his face as he realizes yet again how fortunate he’s become.

Now he’s determined to make sure you feel the same sense of fortune that he has. Because he has you back in his life. Was it a twist of fate or the inevitability of soulmates, Yoongi isn’t sure. However, he’s immensely grateful to have you back, even if you’re not truly his yet.

~*~*~

"I’m breaking up with you.”

“What?!”

You cover your mouth as the unexpected sentence leaves your mouth. Junwoo sits in his office with his fists clenched tightly on top of his desk. He’s never been particularly good at hearing bad news, and even though it’s only been a few months you feel as though you’re signing divorce papers judging my his reaction.

It’s been two days since you last saw Yoongi. You put off speaking to Junwoo for a little bit to try and figure out exactly what you were going to say to him. You had a whole speech ready, talking about how he deserves better and that he’ll find his soulmate eventually.

But when the moment came, your speech was practically thrown to the ceiling fan and torn into a million pieces.

“W- why? What did I do?” Junwoo asks, he seems more angry than anything which you didn’t expect.

“You didn’t do anything,” you sigh, plopping in the seat on the other side of his desk, “I just don’t think it’s going to work out.”

“Everything was going so well!” Oh god, he’s yelling. “It’s that fucker Suga’s fault, isn’t it? He’s putting you up to this!”

“Fucking hell, Junwoo! How old are you, honestly? Immediately assuming that it was Yoongi is the most childish thing you could have done.” It is Yoongi, though. You know that, and unfortunately Junwoo knows that as well. It isn’t in good conscience to deny his allegations but you can’t help but do so.

Though, the inevitability of your relationship ending would have happened with out without Yoongi’s push.

“Well excuse me for thinking you would fuck a member of the biggest band on the planet! For God’s sake, any whore would drop their pants for one of them.”

Your jaw drops, “I didn’t fuck him.”

Junwoo rolls his eyes, “Are you sure? Because it’s almost like I could smell the stench coming off of you.”

You place your tongue in your cheek, biting back a response. Should have figured the man wouldn’t know how to take a break up.

Then, you laugh, “Okay. You got me, I fucked him.”

“I knew it.” Junwoo’s nostrils flare.

“Hundreds of times, eight years ago,” You spit, standing up quick enough for the chair behind you to tip over. “it wasn’t working out anyway and clearly that’s for the best. The last thing I need is a chauvinist asshole who refuses to see what was right in front of him.”

“I-”

“No,” you put your hand up, “I’m done.”

You turn around swiftly, walking out of his office and ignoring the stares from his receptionists. Surely they heard the yelling and the last thing you needed was to feel judged.

Except you weren’t being judged. Just before you reached the elevator, one of the girls spoke out. “You’re the second break up he’s had this week, don’t feel bad.”

You turn around, watching her flick vivaciously through a magazine. “What was that?” You speak slowly, turning around walking up to the desk.

“Another woman came by earlier this week, she said he’s been fucking some nurse behind her back and threw a ring at him.” She shrugs, then leans forward with a whisper, “You’re better off without him.”

You scoff, “and I had the decency to break up with him before I fucked someone else. Thanks for the tip, darling.”

As soon as the elevator doors close, you whip out your phone and text Yoongi.

To: Suga Delivered: 13:52

Deed is done if you still want me to come by

You make it to your car and hear your phone ding.

From: Suga Received: 13:57

I’ll meet you outside

Your heart flutters, so you start your car and drive as quickly as you can towards the directions of the dorm. It’s not hard, everyone in Seoul is keenly aware of where BTS stay, but there’s an unspoken rule that nobody is to bother them. One of the things you enjoyed most about this whole situation is the amount of respect they boys have earned, and you couldn’t feel more proud of Yoongi.

The gated group of buildings is intimidating to say the least, but you’re unable to contain your excitement as you pull up. Yoongi is a few feet away, waving from the other side of the gate as he presses a few buttons before you hear the gate click and begin to side open.

Your excitement over simply seeing him is nearly too much to contain. A week ago you struggled to not get nauseous at the thought of him seeing you but now you didn’t know how you ever made it without him. Inching your car forward became an arduous task because it took precious seconds away from you being able to kiss Yoongi once again.

So, you throw your car into park as the gates slip closed behind you and run out of your car to jump towards Yoongi.

He catches you, immediately slamming your lips onto his. It’s soft this time, the urgency isn’t there but he doesn’t mind the feeling of your hands gently tugging at his hair and scratching his scalp.

“Mm,” he hums against your lips, “does this mean you’re mine again?”

“With some adjustments to both of our lives,” you smile, “and making time for each other, then I’m willing to try again.”

“Good,” he grins, “let me take you inside and show you how much I’m gonna try.”

He slides you down his torso and grabs your hand, yanking you closely behind him. You let out a quiet yelp as he does so, following him into the building and welcoming the warmth that greets you. You’re lead through a long hallway but are stopped abruptly once Yoongi spots Hoseok walking through the living room.

“Hey pretty nurse, and Yoongi.” Hoseok says without looking up, and Yoongi lets out a sigh of relief.

You give him a questioning look but shake it off when Yoongi leads you up a lot of stairs and straight to his bedroom.

“Okay, there’s two ways this can go-” Yoongi slips his shirt over his head and you try to process everything as it’s happening because holy shit you’re going to fuck Yoongi for the first time in years and might actually be able to have an orgasm “-slow and steady or hard and fast.”

“Save the romance for next time,” you giggle, slipping your dress over your head and falling backwards onto his bed, “I haven’t had you inside me in years. Hard and fast.”

He chuckles, “You got it baby.”

He jumps on top of you, his hand flying to your thigh to steady your leg as he grinds his still clothed cock into your core. He’s already hard, and you’re already dripping. The last two days you spent not being near him was the most difficult thing you had experienced because you knew what was coming and how he was going to do it.

And you’re loving every second of it.

Spreading your legs wide, you reach between the two of you and play with the hem of his boxers. He groans into your mouth, inching upward so your hand slips further in, “No teasing, baby girl. Hard and fast.”

“Right, yes. I’m sorry.” you bite his bottom lip before lifting your hips and feeling his hands loop on either side of your panties to slip them down your legs. He drops between your legs immediately and inhales your scent, tossing his head back in pleasure.

“Fuck, just like I remember.” Yoongi dives back, his nose brushing against your aching clit while his tongue darts out and licks your quivering hole. You let out a quiet moan but are quick to cover your mouth as you remember there are six other men on the other side of these thin walls.

The pleasure of knowing that he remembers your scent is enough to send you feral, your back arching off the bed as his lips finally wrap around your clit and sucks hard. The obscene sound of him drinking in your juices fills the room, his groans against your core sending chills up your spine. If there was anything you knew about Min Yoongi, it’s that he knew how to use his tongue.

You fill your core begin to heat up as your orgasm builds and before you know it, you’re uncovering your mouth and letting out a moan loud enough to be heard for miles.

Yoongi can’t help but smirk against you as he drinks in your release, moving to trail kisses up your abdomen as you come down from the pleasure.

“You ready for more?” He kisses your lips, and it’s then that you notice his cock his gloriously hard against his stomach, boxers long discarded.

“Please, yes. Please please plea-”

“Alright, hold your horses.” Yoongi jokes, brushing the head of his cock against your slit a few times teasingly.

You pout, “You said no teasing.”

He nods, “I can’t help it. Your face is so cute when you’re begging for my cock.”

As you’re thinking of a rebuttal, Yoongi finally slips inside. Both of you moan in pleasure at the clenching of your core. He remembers exactly how to move to get you to gasp, how deep to move to get you to clench, and he remembers what each of your movements mean. Your nails currently dig into his back harshly but he doesn’t complain, because that means his thrusts are going at just the right speed.

He wishes you can scream like you used to, but he realizes how weird that could be for his bandmates to hear. However, he can’t say that he necesarily minds all things considered. He’d love for Jimin to hear what he’s doing to you after the way his smart mouth moved the other night. He could imagine his face as he listens, but then Yoongi is dragged back to the moment when he feels you clench particularly hard.

You feel him tensing more and more, struggling to hold on as your vice grip on him tightens even further. The soft sponge of your warm cunt is nearly too much for him to bare, and as you feel your second orgasm approach, you grip Yoongi’s face in your hands, “Cum for me. Please.” His eyes flutter closed and he begins to thrust faster, lips on yours and sweat building on both of your foreheads. Then, your second orgasm washes over you deliciously, Yoongi’s hips stuttering before he follows with his own release, his cum coating your walls white. He’s still for a moment, gasping above you. When you reach up and brush the hair from his forehead, he collapses on top of you, “Fuck, that’s even better than I remembered.”

“Good,” you giggle, kissing his nose, “because there’s so much more I want to try with you.”

His heart flutters irrevocably, knocking the wind out of him when he realizes that you’re in this for the long run just as he is. This time he swears he’s going to make it work, and he plans on spending the rest of his life with you.

His lips brush against you once again, then he speaks.

“Write me a list, baby girl.”

#ty for reading!!#min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi #suga #bts #suga x reader #suga x reader smut #yoongi x reader smut #min yoongi x reader smut #suga x reader fluff #yoongi x reader fluff

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hopevalley · 3 years

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Season 8, Episode 5: What the Heart Wants

I was going to try to follow my scene-by-scene format for the entire season, but I’ve been getting a lot of migraines recently, presumably from staring at the computer too long, so I don’t want to spend all morning working on typing up the play-by-play for this episode.

Also, for what it’s worth I think this episode lends itself to plot discussion better than some of the previous episodes...at least in some sense.

And as another head’s up, it’s back to being critical for me. ;P

Storylines:

School Ends/Graduation/Parent-Teacher Conferences

The Dress Shop/Rachel

Postal Service, Ned

Bill’s Uniform, Nathan’s Vacation

Carson and Faith

Henry

Elizabeth and Lucas

Clara’s Dilemma

School Ends/Graduation/Parent-Teacher Conferences

This plot felt a little scattered, but for once it wasn’t the kind of storyline they foisted too much drama upon. After years of every single function possible being besieged by bullshittery, it’s a relief to see one go off without a real hitch.

The beginning scene with Robert hugging Elizabeth was sweet. I enjoyed the Canfields immensely and am intrigued by Angela’s role in the story long-term (PLEASE let her befriend Allie!). Nathan...eh, I have thoughts—but I’ll talk about that a bit soon. The actual ceremony was cute and kind of fun with the kids singing.

Neat Thing I Noticed:

Continuity? Cat Montgomery is still listed as Emily’s mother. ♥♥♥ I don’t know why but this made me really happy???

Complaint Corner:

Parent-teacher conferences should have been in this show from a much earlier point, and so should graduation have been. If there was a point to this celebration (the first year in a while anyone was old enough to graduate) that would have been a nice touch, too. It just managed to feel sliiiightly out of place.

I’ll forgive the “everyone in town goes to the graduation” thing because this is 1918...something like this would be a whole-town affair IMO. Invite everyone and have a nice get-together/party, probably on a Sunday afternoon after church but Hope Valley does whatever it wants, so...eh.

The threat of merging Hope Valley with other schools doesn’t fit in this scenario and it feels like they ripped it directly out of Tales from Avonlea which was almost rage-inducing to me.

Look, school mergers happened a lot in the early 1900s, especially around the WWI mark, but it wouldn’t be hitting a rural western town just yet. They don’t have any way of getting these kids to other towns for schooling. Where would the next closest school be? It would have to be pretty large and modern to merge multiple schools together.

*Adjusts nerd glasses* This felt forced and completely unnecessary. If anything this guy could be telling Elizabeth that they’re working on building a modern school somewhat close by, and could even have her involved in some decision-making regarding layout. Then they could bring in a “merger” storyline next season without it feeling out of place.

It mostly just felt dramatic for the hell of it, and it was boring, as was this man’s threat that Elizabeth had no right to teach a blind student. As if they’d accept Angela at a better school? As if her parents could afford top tier education for her? PLEASE.

Now it’s time for Nathan. The man chose to go fishing instead of to the parent-teacher conference? It makes him look like a tool. This isn’t about him or about Elizabeth; it’s about Allie. I understand why he didn’t want to go, but he should have done it anyway. It would have taken five minutes of his time.

His flippant attitude annoyed me because it went completely against his character as we know it, but Elizabeth’s lecturing was irritating, too. For a moment I thought we had Lorigail back on the show...

I think Elizabeth was well within her rights to warn Nathan about the effect his work has on his ward, but that inquiry took like a week AT MOST. Heck, let’s be generous and say TWO WEEKS. Allie’s concentration suffered for two weeks. There was no need to say more than, “Hey she worries about you and her work suffered for a bit during that time frame, just so you’re aware.”

I think what annoyed me about the math program thing is that...Elizabeth being a teacher would probably be VERY WELL AWARE that MOST of the parents to her students aren’t good enough at schooling to assist their kids with their homework. I dunno, it just feels out of place for her to tell Nathan that she wants to put Allie in an accelerated “program” and that Allie might need his help with her homework. It’s even more out of place when he admits he used to bribe his sister to do his work for him. Like. It’s very possible he’s not that good at math and isn’t capable of helping. (But maybe that will be a plot down the road...?)

“Or a tutor...” BITCH WHERE IS HE GONNA FIND A TUTOR IN THIS TOWN?! It’s super annoying to see dialogue like this that feels completely out of touch with the reality these people would be living in...lol. But also if she needs a tutor to stay caught up in an advanced program, she probably...shouldn’t be in the advanced program.

I don’t know how to feel about this whole thing here: “Nathan, you are Allie’s world. You’re the only father she’s ever known, and as she grows up you will always be the measure of the quality she’ll look for in a man as she chooses who to marry.”

On one hand, it does fit the situation (he seems to think everything is behind him but Elizabeth’s words are kind of a caution that 1) his actions still have an effect on Allie, and 2) every day he’s teaching her by example). On the other hand, it seems almost wildly inappropriate to bring up? At the same time, it’s probably not wrong that Allie will measure other men (friends, acquaintances, potential future romantic interests) against Nathan’s example.

I dunno. The conversation felt disjointed.

I think what they were going for was Nathan just feeling too awkward and weird about being with Elizabeth to want to be there for the conference, but...he interacted with her quite normally after the inquiry and stuff (even after she’d broken things off with him), so...it feels out of place. Like maybe this should have taken place right after the breakup and not weeks later?

Anyone else have thoughts on this and why it doesn’t feel quite right?

The Dress Shop/Rachel

This plot wasn’t what I would call a waste of time (rather, it’s worth having it mentioned now), but part of it was completely pointless and stupid. The whole Rachel getting lost thing was tacked into the promos to stir up drama, but nothing happened and there was nothing worrisome even going on. YAWN.

Rosemary’s desire to do something meaningful and different with her life is super interesting. I’m very curious to see what they decide to do with her if Dottie does sell the dress shop.

Also, Rosemary finding the book under Rachel’s bed was pretty funny.

But yeah, I didn’t really find much in this plotline to care deeply about. I guess I am pretty interested in knowing who might be purchasing the dress shop and/or if this decision is to bring someone else onto the show (a female love interest for the man who doesn’t win Elizabeth’s heart in the end, or even to bring back an old character*) or to take the dress shop out of the equation entirely... It’s also just as possible that Rosemary/Lee or Clara/Jesse end up buying it themselves down the line... Thoughts?

*I can’t begin to imagine who would be the best fit for this in this case, though. Who would have the money to buy her out?

Postal Service, Ned

Ned is just honestly so cute and fun. I love him. He’s really been doing well this season and seeing him wander around town delivering mail door to door was kind of nice.

Also, he’s one SMOOTH operator! Look at him, talking about putting a bell on the door so that he and Florence won’t be caught off-guard if they’re in the middle of...something.

Oh my, Ned. What might customers be...interrupting? :3

Continuity? Not only was the ulcer from last season brought up, but the horrid cabbage juice was, too. :’) It was a nice touch. And these two had just enough screentime to be kind of fun/interesting without also taking up too much time.

Bill’s Uniform, Nathan’s Vacation

Nathan got his vacation and Bill is in charge...again. This happens an awful lot. I wonder if it’ll actually impact the next few episodes or if it’s just here for the hell of it.

I love Bill a lot and I want to brag up his character in this episode a bit. I’ve complained many times in the past about him being written like a Grumpy Old Man Yelling at Clouds but this episode was super respectful. He got his scene with his uniform. Nobody interrupted it. There weren’t even any words. I quite liked it.

But it also felt kind of...pointless? I don’t want to judge it too harshly yet. Like the dress shop plotline, this could actually be going somewhere in the next couple of episodes.

Plus, unrelated to the uniform, it was nice to see Bill acting fatherly toward Clara. While it sort of came out of nowhere for the wedding, I appreciate the attempt at continuity there. Plus, so far this season, I’ve felt like Bill’s almost been a father-figure to Clara, Fiona, and even Nathan, so I’m enjoying that a lot.

Carson and Faith

CONTINUITY? The show finally remembered that not only is Carson actually a surgeon, but that was his original passion. It’s not that they completely forgot (S5 had him performing surgery on his sister-in-law, after all), but giving Carson a PASSION makes him a way more interesting character to me.

And also, finally, this feels like a REAL high-stakes plotline for him and for Faith.

I really liked Faith’s take on things. I know, I know, I’ve been rooting at them to break up, but the reason is mostly because they’re just so BORING together. I’d rather watch Henry twirl around in a chair for an hour than suffer through date scenes with these two.

It’s not that I’m against a doctor wife/husband team. I’m not. I just think Faith was a much more interesting and cool character on the show before Carson showed up and usurped her place (and completely overshadowed her for literal seasons). This plotline for Carson might actually be interesting. Like, a fellowship? For modern surgery? IN BALTIMORE?!

I hope this is Faith’s way of saying she wants a break and/or a break would be good for them. I can’t picture her leaving Hope Valley without any trained medical staff, let alone long enough for a fellowship...

But if this goes through, what will they do with it? Would they really write Carson off the show? To be perfectly honest with y’all, I’d be fine with that. At least it’s the type of write-off that makes a lot of good sense (unlike some of the other ones we got). I guess this is just another “wait and see” plotline which is uhh...the theme of this episode, huh? Anyone have thoughts on this?

Henry

Henry barely had any screentime, but I do want to say he is #relateable. The man is back at work for ten seconds and already exhausted. SAME.

Also, I appreciate that he’s ready to be back in the oil business. At what cost? I know people were worried they were gonna kill him off, and I really doubted it, but now I’m starting to wonder where they’re going with this exactly. Yet another wait and see moment LOL!

Elizabeth and Lucas

Some damn fine scenes for Lucas and Elizabeth in this episode. Mostly the scenic ones. :P

I enjoyed the agreement to a date. The horseback riding stuff was pretty cute.

Complaint corner? I don’t know. I have petty complaints. Even though the celebration for the kids was a town-wide event, and therefore Lucas was invited, it still felt out of place to see it brought up. Maybe it should have been mentioned as a town celebration from the start?

Then Lucas’s comment about not wanting to make things awkward for Nathan (who is actually a parent and there) makes a liiiittle more sense. I do think it was good of him to not go, even though he wanted to spend more time with Elizabeth, but it gave off a weird vibe, like, “Look at how good and wholesome Lucas is!” Is that intentional? I’m not...sure...?

For what it’s worth I already felt like Lucas was an honorable person in this regard. He loaned Nathan money, after all. Maybe he should have told Elizabeth he views Nathan as a friend and doesn’t want to hurt his feelings unnecessarily and/or if he was there he’d want to hog her all to himself or something cheesy. Hm.

My other complaints are:

Elizabeth running to the saloon would be WAY faster than all this getting set up at her house...?? Who thought this made sense?

Elizabeth’s dress looked like a nightie she bought at Kohls.

Too many damn candles.

Characters Do What Plot Dictates Even Though Plot Makes No Sense. More at 11:00!!

I have no further comments on the dress. It needed sleeves or something so it looked more like a dress and not like a nightgown/piece of lingerie.

I think the candles might have been on purpose to parallel Jack...but I hated it lol. Fire hazard? HAVEN’T ENOUGH THINGS IN TOWN BURNED DOWN/EXPLODED?!

I didn’t hate the date scene! But I never feel like Elizabeth has any meaningful conversations with Lucas and it’s starting to drive me batty.

Could we get uhhh something of substance please? It has to be surface-level nonsense on purpose. Right? RIGHT?

(And no, discussing a book for ten seconds on-screen is not “intelligent conversation” okay...?)

It’s really a shame because I’m starting to actually warm up to Lucas a little bit in this season but it feels like the conversations are just...kind of stilted and she’s not really into dating him—just agreeing to it because he’s the only option.

And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but...he deserves better than that.

Don’t get me wrong, by the way. If it’s part of the story and it’s revealed as such down the road, I’ll be fine with it...but I always worry they’ll just skip important relationship milestones and/or important conversations and expect us all to just accept it.

Kiiiiiind of looking forward to the rainy date scene in the next episode, though. I’m Team Nathan mostly but I’m keeping an open mind and I think I might actually enjoy it. Hopefully they’ll get some good scenes together that don’t feel like this one did.

Clara's Dilemma

Clara’s fears about running the salon without Fiona...are legit. LOL.

Also, this little bit was funny (between Mike and Jesse and Bill):

Anyway, if Clara was that worried about it, she should have just...told Fiona no? I hope it comes up down the road. Poor Molly??

I genuinely don’t know how I feel about Clara and Jesse’s involvement in this episode. I guess it was okay. I liked Clara’s scenes with Bill. I thought the idea of Clara and Jesse buying into the cafe was a nice one. Jesse having “invested” their money and lost it all, though... They did a similar plot with other people in what...Season 5 was it? Or was that the start of S6? He didn’t even say what he invested it in? But he admits the money is all gone?

I think that’s what was missing from that scene. “I invested it in X, hoping to make us more money, but it didn’t work out and we lost everything.”

I’m not going to criticize Jesse’s characterization, only because sometimes character "growth” doesn’t happen for the better of anyone involved. My biggest worry here is that it’ll be solved by the end of next episode....but I hope that’s not it.

Like, I think they did better with Frank and Abigail if we’re going to talk about a man who didn’t know how to live like he was in a committed relationship. It made more sense with Frank, too, being older and single most of his life. His bouts of selfishness felt realistic.

Jesse feels like he’s somehow getting worse and worse as a person as the show goes on. I’m kind of at a point where I hope he and Clara divorce, because he’s so damn selfish it’s embarrassing. He’s off having a beer while his wife works multiple jobs? And then he has the audacity to act like they should save money when he just blew all their savings?

I’m sure it’ll work out fine but I hope Clara puts herself in charge of the finances at the very least.

As to investing failures, I liked how they did that with Henry and Abigail. That was the kind of tension and worry that felt natural to me—like she trusted him with her money after he’d proven himself untrustworthy ten million times throughout the years, and he failed and had to uhh admit that.

Jesse straight up betrayed Clara. Which, if it’s dealt with in a satisfying way...I think can be a good plotline. I just worry about it actually being dealt with properly. That’s a huge stumbling block in a relationship. And why is he continually getting worse as a person? There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to it.

Gasp... it’s almost like it’s just plot because they feel like they have to give someone something every damn episode.

Which brings me to THE FINAL

COMPLAINT CORNER (The Big Boy™ Complaints)

The show has really struggled with finding its footing. I wish they’d take notes from better shows with ensemble casts (cough cough Road to Avonlea cough) without also ripping off their storylines (cough school merges cough).

My #1 complaint at this point in Season 8 is the SHEER AMOUNT OF THINGS GOING ON EVERY EPISODE.

I want continuity, so I want to see things happen naturally over a season, but my God do we not need to have mindless pointless crap in the episode. Rachel getting “lost” for ten seconds wasted literal MINUTES of screen time that would have been MUCH better allocated to basically anyone else in this episode.

And I don’t think it would bother me so much if it wasn’t also shoved into the promo like it was supposed to matter. It didn’t matter. Nobody cares. Why was it allowed to stay in the episode alongside stuff like Clara and Bill’s conversation?

Or Lucas and Carson’s?

I think they want to appease all the fans in every episode by giving them scenes of their favorites, but what did Henry sitting in his chair accomplish in this episode? Rachel getting lost? Jack not sleeping well/missing his mom? The school superintendent?

Did Bill trying on his uniform have to be in this episode? Did Jesse and Clara’s problems have to come fully to light right now?

When every episode is formatted like this, with 10 plotlines all interconnected slightly and going on at the same time, I feel like...nobody gets the spotlight they deserve when they deserve it.

I cANNOT believe I’m saying this, but this plotline for Carson, especially if it will end with him leaving the show for a while or permanently should get the focus it deserves. But it won’t if we get tiny snips of it here and there and then BOOM decision made because Reasons.

And again, I know I’ve said before that I want more continuity throughout the season, but... the best way to do that is to tighten up the plots. Have fewer of them per season and give more screentime to the ones you choose to pursue.

Anyway, I’m still enjoying the season, but I hope they keep some of this kind of stuff in mind for next season. They don’t need plotlines for everyone in every episode. They need the plotlines they choose to write to be worth their screentime.

Sorry this was sloppily written and all that. Hopefully it makes sense. Very curious to see y’alls thoughts. Feel free to make your own posts and @ me, or reblog this or comment!

#when calls the heart #long post #season 8 spoilers #season 8 shenanigans #analysis and meta discussion #character studies and information

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project-paranoia · 3 years

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Live Watch: Guardian Episode One, Part One

It's Guardian! The show that got me interested in this genre! I love spooky things and I love mysteries and fantasy! I simply adore it so much! When I can't sleep I just put on a playlist of Guardian in the background. I was aware of censorship before - every country has some version of it, but to some degree this was my first deep dive into how it might effect a piece of media. Guardian is exceptionally acted and incredibly written, as well as suffering from obvious dubs where the dubbing voice actor sounds nothing like the previous actor and odd cuts that are disrupted. In some ways it's the little drama that could fighting its way past their studio going bankrupt while they were filming, reshoots, and being taken down and altered several times.

In some ways Guardian's struggle fits the spirit and aesthetic of the show. Worn in like an old pair of jeans but still making an effort. Putting emphasis where things count and hoping the kindness of the universe will make allowances for the rest. Attention to detail where the story really matters. It has the charm of a community production put on out of love with actors and crew who would not be anywhere else in the world for any amount of money. That feeling of love comes through, and whether or not I'm barely literate I have so many words to share.

Part of why I love it as well is it has that feeling of 80s and 90s fantasy, like Moomin, Xena or Condor Heroes. Everything feels lived in, nothing's been spit shined except for Shen Wei's suits. It's an old city street of a show, it has history and character built in.

*After all that I don't know that I have a tonne to say about the intro. It's very good but it's also full of spoilers. I think having the intro song be in English does make a difference in making it appealing to English speaking audiences as well as standing out as different and interesting, which the show is. Speaking of Spoilers! Spoilers below!

* The obligatory beginning narration is beautifully animated, I have another post that will be done some time before the heat-death of the universe talking about the fascinating world building options. Unlike some Make It SciFi plots, this one has legs and implications.

* Remakes rarely are able to meet the original on equal ground - and I struggle to believe the actors would Fit as well - but part of me really wants to have a chance to have the Dixingren worldbuilding really leaned into. The writing is good enough we get implication but no real follow through. I want fifty episodes of how Dixing functions, give me more pseudo-science behind the mutations, what are the biological differences. I'm hungry for more!

* I love the cameos of later characters, and the way there was some effort to be discrete with spoilers.

* It's Ya Boy! I love Shen Wei. With that music cue and that sinister turn around they really set him up as dubious. I wish they went with something a little different with the intro so his character wasn't spoiled. The writing, directing, and acting was so good and spoiling who Shen Wei is kind of took the teeth out of that.

* Also cheers to the costume designer who outfitted Zhu Yilong so well and made him look jacked with the fit of those clothes.

* Also you can tell this is a real university because the staff has to sit in tiny student chairs. I'm not joking, please be warned if you're going into academia. Unless you have tenure life is An Adventure - and even then.

* Also shout out to Shen Wei's Prized Cabbage and the Queen of our hearts, Li Qian. Why is this actress not in more things? She has such an expressive and lovely face and she really goes all the way in with her acting. I respect an artist that acts from their chest. Also that windbreaker, white skirt combo is chic and fun all at once, it draws the eye and makes her melt into the background all at once - perfect for the character. I love her so much.

* Here's another one of Shen Wei's coats, it's a lovely color for him but it also is so thin that it looks like it crinkled up just from being worn.

* I'm being distracted by details and missing plot stuff.

* Story of my life.

* I love Li Qian hovering along behind Shen Wei like a duckling following their mother. A) Mood and B) it quietly informs their dynamic. Shen Wei has like one person he can trust but no one he can really confide in and it's the same for Li Qian. A ship will find a port in a storm and Shen Wei has Big Da-ge Energy. My fanfic heart hopes they found comfort in the pseudo familial relationship with each other while it lasted.

* Even in episode one we receive foreshadowing, we love and respect some excellent writing. For those of you who missed it - Professor Ouyang is talking about Lin Jing who I love partially because he's so outrageous large but has the total opposite of intimidating energy.

* What did they feed you Lin Jing? He is so tall and wide, but they do a lot with camera work to try to make him not quite as big. Side note, I would really love to see the actor who plays Lin Jing (Liu Minting) both in more dramas but more specifically in a role where he was like a minister or scholar - someone intellectual. I think the combination of being such a big gentleman and also someone who like plots or plans would be really dynamic if it was written well.

* Also I like the exchange where without a word Professor Ouyang indicates he has one last thing to say, it's private and that he would like Shen Wei to ask Li Qian to leave. That's What You Can Do With Good Actors!

* Li Qian is just so pretty and the actress emotes so well!

* Shen Wei totally understanding what's going on with this shady research immediately and wanting to stay as far away as possible. We see one of the first examples of him being aggressively polite to remove himself from a situation.

* "i'M jUST aN oRDINARY sCHOLAR." No one buys it Shen Wei.

* Angy Thinking Face

* One thing the show is really good at is using establishing shots really well so you always know where everything is and everything is going

* Guo Changcheng, all around good boy and angel. We stan a nervous legend

* Zhou Yunlan Arriving. Why is everyone on this show an Absolute Legend

* Guo Changcheng protecting himself with his certificate is too cute. This young man is trying his best and I support him.

* Also that coat is Young, Pure, Stylish; I love it

* Zhao Yunlan, what's wrong with you? You are amazing!

* His irreverent style and disregard of usual policy makes him fit in really well with his band of misfits and special cases

* Guo Changcheng's OO face is too good, elastic face

* Da Qing my love!

* Jin Ling, I think he has an all seeing eye on his hoodie thing. Illuminati Confirmed.

* Also they filmed the shots so well, so you always know where everyone is in relation to everyone else

* Our Prized Cabbage! I love her!

* Great handheld work: shaky and unhinged, but not migraine inducing

* Foreshadowing in the form of a shadow and reaching for the necklace

* Da Qing's cat behaviours. I really want behind the scenes of the actor discussing how cat was he going to cat

* We get our first real example of how Zhao Yunlan doesn't feel safe emoting negatively and so he uses a super sunny mask to hide his feelings, except with Da Qing who he lets his anger show with because he trusts him.

* I'm not even halfway through and I've written so much, peace and blessings to the readers of this.

* Zhao Yunlan's swagger, after his childhood having a little power must feel comforting and good

* I love how Da Qing is talking as a cat less than a meter from the medical examiner. Does the examiner not care or does he know? Is he deaf?

* Harassing Guo Changcheng is the new team sport

* Zhao Yunlan Realises Something Music

* Also, Lollipop Measurement

* It's nice to see Zhao Yunlan just being himself with Da Qing, he's able to really be honest and genuine with him

* Slow Look Moment

* This moment is so fascinating! Shen Wei doesn't know what's going on yet. He just sees an old friend who winces when he sees him and disappears. We mostly see things from Zhao Yunlan's point of view, but from Shen Wei's perspective this is a first part of just some Odd and Confusing Happenings

* This cat though! I love him!

* The delicate way they’re both feeling each other out. This must be so confusing and startling for Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan is trying to figure out if this teacher is going to bust him or what.

* He forgot to let go, way to set off Zhao Yunlan’s suspicions

* “Mark Stewart” Is he though? Who picked out that English name?

* Li Qian! I love her and I love that striped blouse. Fashion. Got to look good when you’re resisting a mental break. *Also she hears a meow and looks around at eye level, I love that for her.

* Zhao Yunlan! You can’t take pictures of young ladies without their permission. What is wrong with you!

* I love Da Qing’s very cat attitude of I Will Have Vengeance for These Wrongs

* Two for one! Shen Wei meets two faces from his past.

* Also, I get a little frustrated about people making a big deal about the 10,000 years versus 1,000 years age thing with Da Qing. a) He has amnesia and b) the thousand years refers to the amount of time needed to cultivate to a certain stage in Chinese mythology - usually by absorbing energy from the sun, moon, or depending on the animal other sources.

* I feel so bad for Shen Wei, who knows what he thinks. Were his friends brainwashed? Did they forget? Can they not say for some reason? What is happening?

This review is getting a little long, so join in tomorrow for Part Two~~!

#Guardian #watchthrough

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sublimeheartwizard · 3 years

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What Your Sunglasses Say About You

Sunglasses are a real character builder. Or at least they play a large roll in the character that you play to others. They’re front and center and they can literally change the shape of your face. So before you buy your next pair of shades, think about what you might be saying to the world.

With that said, here are some popular sunglass shapes along with what what they might be saying about your style.

Sunglasses are one of the world's most ubiquitous fashion accessory, but also play an important part in protecting our eyes from harmful UV rays. The earliest known use of glasses to protect eyes from the sun was the Inuit use of “sun goggles” to shield their eyes from the blinding glare of light reflected off the snow. These were made from carved driftwood, bone, walrus ivory, or caribou antler that formed a strip worn across the eye area, with thin slits that the wearer could see through. The goggles were cut so that they fit tightly to the face, and often soot or gunpowder was rubbed on the outside to absorb the light and further cut down on glare. The use of these goggles dates back to around 2,000 years ago, and as a bonus, even improved the wearers vision as the narrow slits helped focus eyesight.

unglasses protect your eyes from harmful ultraviolet (UV) rays, reduce eyestrain in bright conditions and protect you from flying debris and other hazards. Finding the right pair is key to your comfort, whether you’re driving to work or climbing a mountain.

All acetate sunglasses offered at REI block 100% of ultraviolet light. UV protection information should be printed on the hangtag or price sticker of any sunglasses you buy, no matter where you buy them. If it isn't, find a different pair.

Types of Sunglasses

Casual sunglasses: Best for everyday use and basic recreational activities, casual sunglasses do an excellent job of shading your eyes from the sun while you drive to work and walk through town. Casual sunglasses are typically not designed to handle the intensity of action sports.

Sport sunglasses: Designed for activities such as running, hiking and biking, sport sunglasses offer light weight and an excellent fit for fast-paced adventures. High-end frame and lens materials are more impact-resistant and flexible than casual sunglasses. Sport sunglasses also typically feature grippy nose pads and temple ends, a feature that helps keep the frames in place even when you're sweating. Some sport sunglasses include interchangeable lenses so you can make adjustments for different light conditions.

Glacier glasses: Glacier glasses are special sunglasses designed specifically to protect your eyes from the intense light at high altitudes and sunlight reflecting off snow. They often feature wrap-around extensions to block light from entering at the sides.

Sunglass Lens Features

Polarized lenses: Polarized lenses substantially reduce glare. Polarization is a great feature if you enjoy water sports or are especially sensitive to glare.

In some instances, polarized lenses react with the tints in windshields, creating blind spots and diminishing the visibility of LCD readouts. If this occurs, consider mirrored lenses as a glare-reducing alternative.

Photochromic lenses: Photochromic lenses automatically adjust to changing light intensities and conditions. These lenses actually get darker on bright days, and lighter when conditions get darker.

A couple of caveats: The photochromic process takes longer to work in cold conditions, and it doesn't work at all when driving a car because UVB rays do not penetrate your windshield.

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The benefits of metal sunglasses

If you prefer to keep it lightweight and classic, you can’t go wrong with sunglasses with metal frames.

Metal frames are usually relatively thin, making them a great lightweight sunglasses option for everyday wear. Metal is also durable and resists corrosion. Metal frames also usually are outfitted with nose pads to help keep your sunglasses in place and prevent slippage (for a more comfortable fit).

Metal-frame sunglasses are typically made of aluminum, nickel, titanium or stainless steel, and come in a variety of styles, from iconic aviators to classic round frames.

When shopping for higher-end metal-frame sunglasses, consider aluminum and titanium. They’re both flexible, strong and corrosion resistant. Titanium sunglasses also are hypoallergenic, making titanium a great choice for those with skin sensitivities and allergies.

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Do you play sports or wear performance sunglasses? Look for metal sunglasses made with monel or flexon. Both are exceptionally malleable, and flexon will return to its original shape after twisting or bending.

Note that metal sunglasses may not work for lenses that require a strong prescription. Due to their thinner frame construction, metal frames may be unable to accommodat

WHAT IS TR90?

TR-90 Sunglasses has been manufactured using TR90, an incredible new material that you’re sure to love. So what is TR90?

TR90 was produced through Swiss technology as a thermoplastic material that is incredibly durable, flexible, and lightweight. Glasses made with TR90 are extremely comfortable because they have a flexible quality. Since they are flexible, they can bend under pressure and contour your face comfortably.

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Finally, and most remarkable of all, TR90 glasses are supremely lightweight! Even the boldest, biggest styles don’t feel bulky when made with TR90. The thermoplastic material has a barely-there feel that you truly have to wear to believe.

How Your Glasses Can Become Your Main Accessory

PC or CP sunglasses, although they are a necessity to some, don’t have to be a boring accessory to be stuck with. In 2020, we have seen a rise in popularity of amazing new glasses of all shapes and sizes. Don’t just stick with your old tired eyewear because you’re used to it; your glasses are the most noticeable accessory on your body, and they are the first thing people will see when they look at you. So, why not treat yourself to some cool, fresh glasses to revamp your look? Here is a short guide to help you along the way.

Before Choosing Glasses

It is so important to go for regular check-ups with your local eye doctor to see if anything needs changing in your prescription or if you have any eye health problems that need checking. You should go for an appointment at least every two years as not only could straining your eyes make your vision worse, it could be causing health problems like headaches and migraines too. If you have existing health problems with your eyes, you may have to visit slightly more regularly depending on the advice from your eye doctor.

Good Quality Frames

When looking for your next pair of glasses, it is so important to make sure you are getting some high-quality specs. Don’t be tricked by the price tag, as some extremely cheap glasses may not be very good quality and may break after a short time of having them. So, it is better to spend a little more to ensure you are getting the best quality you could possibly get. Sites like artofoptiks.com are experts in eyecare, and a great example of a supplier of high-quality glasses. There are so many on trend styles to choose from, so don’t limit yourself to basic frames.

On Trend Eyewear Styles

Transparent eyewear is definitely on the rise. Round shaped frames with transparent edging are such great alternatives if you just don’t like the idea of having a frame color to match your clothes with all the time. On the other hand, slightly tinted transparent frames are now becoming more and more popular, as they are like a slightly upgraded version of the clear version, with not so much color poking through, but just enough to give them a quirky edge.

Geometric glasses are another alternative option shape wise. If you’re bored of the classic round shape, maybe give these a try as they almost imitate the rounded shape but with a slight edge. You can get all manner of geometric shaped glasses including square, hexagonal and even octagonal.

Glasses a new fashion essential?

Judging from the plethora of eye-catching eyewear that’s been getting face time over the last few years — be it on the European ready-to-wear runways or in the adjoining office cubicle — it’s clear that glasses have gone from nerd necessity to chic accessory.

It’s a shift reflected in the current look-at-me trends — retro, vintage-inspired frames, chunky tortoise shells and geometric shapes that attract rather than deflect attention — and reinforced by the laundry list of fashion-focused brands with a presence in the eyewear arena. These include high-end European luxury labels like Prada, Giorgio Armani and Dolce & Gabbana as well as American contemporary brands Brooks Brothers, Tory Burch, Tiffany & Co. and Sperry Top-Sider, which aims to translate the brand’s footwear DNA into a line of licensed sunglass and ophthalmic frames due to hit the market next year.

While it might seem logical to blame the deteriorating eyesight of the aging baby boomer population or the ever-increasing computer- and smartphone-induced strain on our collective eyeballs, consumer behavior statistics don’t show a jump in the number of people who need prescriptions. What they do show, however, is an increase in the number of people who wear glasses without prescription lenses — presumably to look cool.

Dorothy Parker famously observed, “Men seldom make passes at girls who wear glasses.” How did we go from that image to bespectacled bombshells? How did eyewear go from the disguise that turns Superman into his milquetoast alter-ego to an individual expression of signature style?

Some in the eyewear industry point to the traditional pop-culture petri dishes of Hollywood celebrity and fashion runways. “Maybe they’re seeing more celebrities” wearing glasses, said Larry Leight, co-founder and creative director of boutique brand Oliver Peoples. “And there are more … fashion magazines and runway shows where designers are accessorizing their shows with ophthalmic glasses — the kind that aren’t sunglasses — with either clear lenses or only slightly tinted colored lenses.”

Milena Cavicchioli, vice president of marketing for Luxottica Group — the Milan-based eyewear company that owns Ray-Ban, Oakley and Oliver Peoples, among others, and which also makes eyewear and sunglasses under license for some 20 fashion labels — points to the recent Hollywood award show season as evidence. “Think of Meryl Streep on Oscar night,” Cavicchioli said. “She was wearing beautiful frames. And she’s not the only one. Jennifer Garner and Demi Moore are two I often see in clippings. When people are looking at [celebrities like] them to see what the latest trends are, them wearing frames is a huge support and endorsement.”

She said there have also been other factors at work over the last half decade, including fashion designers’ approach to eyewear both in the frames that bear their names and in the styled looks that hit the runways during fashion week.

“The [optical] collections themselves are becoming more elaborate,” she said. “There are some [styles] that are like jewelry pieces, that make a big fashion statement — like Prada’s Baroque frame, for example. The collections are being treated in a more fashion-forward way.”

Fashion designers have realized just how powerful a brand extension eyewear can be, especially in comparison to some other offshoots. “It’s difficult for a brand to be visible with a fragrance because you’re the only one who knows what you’re wearing,” she explained. “But when you wear a pair of blue light glasses or optical frames, the brand itself gets exposure in the most prominent way because this is something you wear on your face. It’s not like a wallet that you put in your bag. I would say that it is as powerful as a [designer hand]bag as a brand statement, as brand exposure.”

Not just a powerful statement, but an economical one too, points out David Rose, vice president of design and manufacturing at Costa Mesa-based Salt Optics. “A few years back, before the economy took a hit, people would spend a lot more money on their bags and their shoes,” Rose said. “But now eyewear is an accessible way to have a quality accessory.” Rose also said that switching out the spectacles provides a quick and easy way to create a whole new vibe. “It’s like getting a haircut — going from [having] long hair to buzzing your head — it really changes your overall look.”

It’s not just the designers who’ve seen the value of cultivating the eyewear-as-fashion-accessory notion. Cavicchioli said that over the last five years Luxottica has increased its advertising in fashion magazines and worked to get its brands noticed by influencers and trendsetters. “We’re using the category to make a statement as well,” she said.

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vore-scientist · 4 years

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The Discourteous Duke

[Safe, soft, G/t M/m vore with fear.play and tiny female observer]

A Tale of the Mystic Woods

Summary: An asshole from Princess Sophia’s past shows up at Yonah’s wizard tower and finally learns his lesson about not making unwanted romantic advances and taking no for an answer (and hopefully stops making shitty poetry). Lots of G/t interaction in this one.

Warnings: A lot of fear.play. Intended to be comedic, Yonah and Sophia make some pretty intense/morbid taunts, however nothing graphic/detailed but the implications are unsettling so beware. I personally feel it is Hilarious banter!

[All character involved are adults.]

If you enjoy my story, please tell me so, and reblog if you can. I live for feedback! And reblogs spread my work.

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The sun was setting slowly behind the Kingdom of Orr, and the Mystic Woods. Not that Sophia nor Yonah could see the outside, even with the magical windows in the living room that displayed the area around the tower. The pair really needed to get their sleep schedule in order, what had been meant to be a brief snooze, just 10-20 min between potion brewing and enchanting, had turned into almost 3 hours. The half-giant had made the mistake of laying down and Sophia made the mistake of laying on Yonah’s ample middle. So soft, and as it rose up and down with his breathing she was lulled almost comatose. Especially with one of his hands pressing down on her like the warmest weighted blanket, removing all worries and anxieties.

And yet Sophia woke up as a migraine-inducing familiar sound reached her ears.

She shouldn’t have been able to pick up such a quiet sound, especially since Yonah stayed slumbering. But to the princess this sound was so distinct, so irritating, her hearing had become especially attuned to detect it even at the lowest decibel.

What is this amazing sound? Don’t get ahead of yourself. Sophia is still unsure if she really heard it or if it was in her dreams, causing the dream to become a nightmare so quickly as to wake her up instantly. But as she was now awake in a very quiet room, except for Yonah’s breathing.. ohhhh the slow rumbling was incredibly soothing, and his pulse, steady and strong beneath her, tempted her back to sleep.... Unfortunately that noise… as she calmed a bit she heard it again. That noise was in fact very real, and it made her blood boil.

Without waking Yonah (a feat that deserved an entire epic written about it) Sophia slipped out from under the giant’s hand, sliding nimbly down his side. She almost fell very audibly to the floor, since Yonah’s girth did not leave any couch cushion for her to land on, but she anticipated this and swung to grab onto the lower seam, which was just a little higher than her height above the ground. So she dropped without making a sound.

Amazingly Yonah still did not wake as she hurried out to the staircase and started up the stairs. Aggravatingly the noise only grew louder. Which made Sophia start to stomp her way to the window once she was in the workshop and even if she could not discern words, her fears had been confirmed. Maybe fears isn’t the right word. She was not scared of the noise, she was mad at it. At the person making it.

Full of rage she clambered up to the windowsill and made her second mistake of the day, looking down.

50ft below with hair so platinum blonde it was like a beacon in the dimming light, eyes so blue they were a cloudless sky, a nose so sharp it could prick holes in leather, and a smile of perfect teeth so broad it almost tore at his face, stood The Duke. To Sophia’s extreme dismay he was holding a lute. Of course he brought the damn lute! That’s what she had been hearing. That and.

| There once was a young lass from Orr. And she was Never a Bore. As she danced to my music, her heart did totally lose it. Sophia and the Duke be True Loves for Sure |

Ugh. His voice was just as bad as she remembered. Sultry yet whiny. The absolute worst. She glared down as best she could, even if he wasn’t paying attention, and hopefully couldn’t see her expression from that far. And his POETRY - It was so deeply terrible Sophia wanted to cry. But she didn’t, because he might hear her-

“Ah Is that my Dear Sophia so high in yonder window?”

NO!!!!!!

Of course he had looked up! Why the fuck had she looked down!!?!? She could not look him in the eyes. Eye contact would be a third and final mistake.

“FUCK OFF DUKE!” She called down with her eyes tightly shut.

“Ah!” his voice confidence did not waver, “But I am here to rescue you, and win your heart!” he strummed the lute.

“The lovely Sophia, trapped so in despair, I bid thee to let down your hair!” No. That wasn't the worst rhyme she’d ever heard. But it was up there.

Instinctively she held her braid, not to undo it, but as if it would undo itself just to fulfill the fairytale. It could! It was very long, just like that girl from the original tale, though her name was lost to time. Thankfully it didn’t, but a small voice in her head did suggest pulling it all out and using it to strangle the Duke.

“Even if it was long enough, which it is NOT,” she shouted down, “I wouldn’t do so for you! Go away!”

“Then shall climb up the old fashioned way,” said the Duke, putting his lute on his back.

Sophia had not expected him to leave. He never listened to her. Not years ago, not now.

When Sophia was about 16 she’d come to terms with the fact that she would never be sexually or romantically attracted to anyone. She’d tried a few times before, and even a few times after, but every attempt was painful, mostly emotionally, for everyone. After that it was common knowledge among the nobility. Spreading news about someone’s orientation was important, so that it could be respected. It was pretty embarrassing when, for example, a prince rescued a princess who wasn’t into princes. But even when Sophia’s status was made known, that didn’t stop a few folks from trying to rescue her once she was kidnapped.

Or in this asshole’s case, from courting her very publicly and loudly.

Over and over and over again.

Before she was even sent away! And Ben refused to ban him from the kingdom because he didn’t want to set a precedent of using his position of power to remove those who were simply an annoyance. He did however ban Duke from the castle. Eventually.

Sophia had tried a lot of things to get rid of him. Dumping honey and feathers on him from her bedroom window. She tried cursing him (which… failed spectacularly). She even tried shooting him, with blunted arrows but still… Thankfully she was a terrible shot. But she’d also tried, you know, TELLING HIM SHE WAS NEVER GOING TO BE INTERESTED.

Perhaps he needed a stronger message, and one that had not been possible before. A small part of her felt a bit bad for coming up with this plan, he didn’t really deserve this treatment. No wait. He totally did. He fucking harassed her for years and had gotten it in his stupid head that because she’d been kidnapped he could now rescue her. In theory she was to marry whoever rescued her. Not that her father would force that tradition on her. With little convincing that small part of her rejoined the rest. And she smiled as she heard movement from downstairs.

She took one more glance down the window. Duke, engrossed as he was with avoiding the illusory thorns, noticed and smiled up.

“I am coming my sweet chocolate princess”, he smiled with perfect teeth.

Sophia did not tell him off, though his offensive comparison of her skin color to chocolate made her wish the thorns were real and poisonous. Instead she climbed down to the floor and then back up, onto the workshop table. It was just a better set up there. Easier to get into character if Yonah was sitting down opposite her. Plus she wanted to see if Duke would fall to the floor. That was always amusing.

When Duke reached the window he looked confused to find her on a table, especially given that, from his perspective, the room looked normal.

“Sophia, what are you doing over there?” he asked so sickeningly sweet.

“Why don’t you come and find out?” She still avoided his gaze.

His eyes got wide as for the first time ever she hadn’t told him to scram. Then Sophia cackled as loud as she could when indeed, the Duke dropped to the floor, and crumbled as the distance was much greater than it appeared.

“My love, why must you laugh at my agony?” He almost sounded like he might finally get the hint. Almost.

Sophia resisted saying she wasn’t his love. It was pointless. Anyways, the unmistakable footsteps of a half-giant walking up stairs had been getting louder, until the trap door lifted and Yonah entered the scene.

The half-giant wizard had taken his time arriving. Probably calming his hair down, as it tended to make funny shapes when he slept on his couch. Even from across the room he towered over Duke. Yonah looked at Sophia, then Duke, then back at Sophia, a bit bemused.

“This. This must be your-”

Duke paled, which Sophia had not thought possible, but he didn’t immediately run. Which meant she and Yonah were going to have some fun. He had clearly forgotten that captive princesses were guarded by their captors, who were usually monsters. Idiot.

“Yonah, could do me a favor and eat this fucker?” She waved a hand at Duke.

With the skill of a true professional, Yonah’s face became one of wicked glee, and whipped his head around to lock eyes with Duke. Making sure to show his teeth, he licked his lips and approached Duke.

“It would be my pleasure,” he said, and scooped up the nobleman who had not yet processed what Sophia had said.

He carried Duke over to the worktable, holding him tightly in one hand. As he heard the giant’s stomach rumble he connected the very blatant red dots.

“No- please- don’t eat me!” he pleaded, then, thinking correctly that he couldn’t persuade the giant, “Sophia- You cannot be serious!”

“I sure can!” she said, ‘Gods it’s going to be great to finally be rid of you.”

Yonah in the meantime was removing the duke’s accoutrement: a sword, the lute, anything he didn’t want the duke to have once in his stomach. All the while the duke was crying. Sophia had jumped from the table to Yonah’s lap and clambered to his shoulder, laying across it to enjoy the duke’s emotional peril.

“Please, I’ll do anything! Anything!” he pleaded, as Yonah licked his lips again.

“Oh but you are! I told you to leave, so you’re leaving. Just not alive,” Sophia said, both cheerfully and menacingly. “Goodbye!”

On that cue Yonah shoved the man headfirst into his mouth.

Sophia, for all she loved being the one eaten by Yonah, she also loved watching other people get eaten by her wonderful wizard. She liked seeing his teeth barred as he worked a person to the back of his throat, as he was unable to close his mouth until the last moment. He looked a little ridiculous, but also powerful, and happy, swallowing down something that by all means should be impossible. The distortion of his throat was both freaky and very cool to see, and if the person was strong the struggles were visible.

She liked seeing him take the last exciting gulps that got the person down his throat and the swelling of his neck recede down, the last impression of the person disappearing into him.

As that happened with Duke she hauled herself over Yonah’s shoulder and slid down his chest, dropping into his lap a few swallows before Duke arrived in his stomach. In anticipation, she hugged Yonah’s stomach, and felt the duke get squeezed into it. She giggled.

Visually it didn’t make much of a difference from an outside perspective. Yonah looked a little fuller, but that was it. Though, Duke’s muffled screams did penetrate the fleshy prison. His previously irritating voice was now music to Sophia’s ears. Some of his more forceful struggles produced movement visible to those looking for it, and was very obvious to Sophia who still embraced her giant. She did shift to lean her hand on a spot that she felt confident Duke’s elbow had been.

“Thanks Yonah,” she said, looking up into the proudly evil face. She made sure she was loud enough for Duke to hear her.

Yonah beamed with his shimmering fangs even if Duke couldn’t see him. “My pleasure, Sophia. He tasted amazing!”

Then he leaned back and pat his stomach affectionately. He was not acting, he was very much enjoying this treat, he still had a little drool at the corner of his mouth.

“Who was he anyways? Why did I need to eat him?”

Sophia put her elbows over his stomach and her head in her hands.

“He was some duke who tried to court me before I was sent here. I thought he’d leave me alone, but as you saw…or tasted... I’m finally rid of him.”

Now Yonah went back into his act. “Nobility!” He said with elation, “no wonder he tasted so good.

Then he sighed while rubbing his stomach; Sophia swayed with his gut, Duke continued to cry.

“A pity though.”

Sophia, also in on the act though a bit disappointed, asked “what!? Why a pity?”

“I have to spit him up. I can’t just gobble up every nobleperson that you don’t like.”

“Can’t you make an exception this once! He was really annoying!” She sounded so sincere that Yonah was a bit taken aback. However he understood. This duke had harassed her over the years, felt that he was special and above Sophia’s incapacity to feel romantic love. What a dick.

But not enough of a dick to deserve death. A good scare was sure to be enough, and very well deserved.

“I mean! If he wants to be around me so much, then maybe being eaten is the way to go! Once he’s a part of you he’ll also be with me.”

Now Yonah was confident she was saying things to scare Duke, and it was working. So he went along with it.

“That’s a good point Princess!” He grinned wickedly down at Sophia, very pleased with his next choice of words, “How about we ask him, he’s still kicking, though I can’t tell for how long”

He poked his stomach, hard, “You’ve got a choice to make,” he declared. “Stay in there, die, and become part of something Sophia does love... Or get out of me, out of Orr, out of Mystic Woods, and remain alive, But Never Ever EVER Contact Her Again. ” He made sure to lower his voice and growl for that last part to really make sure the duke understood that if he showed his face again, or even sent so much as a letter, Yonah would find him, and finish the job.

“OUT! LET ME OUT! I’LL LEAVE HER ALONE!” Duke answered with no hesitation.

Yonah put Sophia back on the workbench and went over to the windowsill. He placed one hand on the stone and one hand on his stomach.

“Are you letting me out!? I promise! Please!! I’ll-”

Pressing into his gut Yonah started to retch. It was not as pleasant to watch him throw up people as it was to watch him swallow them. Still mildly entertaining to see Yonah in distress. Retching turned to choking as he regurgitated the duke, but as Duke recovered and stood up, Yonah stepped to the side, cutting off his view of the workbench and Sophia.

“Can’t- Can’t I see her just one more time?” he asked. His face was red from screaming and crying.

Yonah smiled at him and coughed up more phlegm, “Sure you can.”

The duke brightened.

For a second. Before Yonah drew his tongue over his shining fangs.

“If you want to so badly, go ahead, but then I get to finish my meal.”

Duke gulped, “Nevermind- I- I’ll be going”

“Awwww, are you sure, you were really delicious,” Yonah growled, and reached for Duke as if to eat him regardless.

Duke squealed and nearly jumped out the window, but managed to snag a foot in the vines, and eventually got down and ran away.

Yonah watched to make sure, but he also felt Sophia climbing up his robe and hair so she could peak over his shoulder to double check.

“He’s gone?” she asked as if she couldn’t believe it, “he’s really gone!” she said with more confidence.

“WAHOO!” she almost fell backwards off of Yonah but caught herself on his hair. He reached a hand around and grabbed her. She didn’t comply and kicked his hand away. Sophia scrambled back up to his shoulder and sat down to hug Yonah’s scruffy cheeks, adding in a few kisses for good measure .

“Thank you!” she said, and now she was crying. It was finally over.

“I love you sooooo much!”

“Aww it was nothing, Princess,” he said. It really was nothing, and he’d enjoyed it. But he was proud to have helped Sophia, and glad she was finally rid of this horrible nuisance. And in a way, proud that Sophia loved him, even if it wasn’t romantic. He loved her in the same way. What a world where he got to show that love by eating people, not that he was complaining.

“Man, we really slept through the day.” He indicated the dark sky, “That potion we left to simmer before our nap is definitely ready to be completed. If you’re fine with a late dinner.”

Sophia started to climb down his person, her intent on the otherside of the room, where a half-giant size hearth and cauldron bubbled. He laughed as it ticked. Once she had made it to the prep table he walked the eight short steps it took to join her.

[FIN] if you liked PLEASE REBLOG!

REBLOGS HELP SPREAD MY WORK! I also love knowing that people read my stories! My askbox and DMs are OPEN!!! let me know!!!

[Thanks for reading! please reblog! Or message me telling me what you think! I crave feedback! For more mystic woods go to vore-scientist.tumblr.com/tagged/mystic+woods+story or search ‘mystic woods story’]

#safe vore #soft vore #extreme cuddling #g/t vore #nonfatal vore #sfw vore #vore writing #fearplay #unwilling

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brinnygetsstabbed · 3 years

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[ DEADLY AGREEMENT // MOUSE’S MEMORIES]

She made a promise.

She made a promise to get herself into the woods when she could. Be it after Trial or when the others drifted away to do their own thing. To return to that hidden place, where nothing useful is. The edge of survivor territory.

It’s dangerous, and she knows it’s dangerous. It’s just not compared to the doom looming over her if she doesn’t put herself in danger. There’s no choice. She’ll be hurt either way, it’s just a matter of postponing the pain. But, if she does this now, if she goes, maybe she can escape it for a bit. Make him happy, keep him calm.

Just fulfill the promise.

Her legs tremble with each step, the further she gets from the fire, the darker the world around her gets. Brin hates the feeling of being so alone, yet so surrounded at the same time. She has no bubble, no shield around herself to hide behind. Exposed, an easy target. Still, she pushes forward, going by uneven memory.

Lots of deals, the concepts of arrangements were vaguely thrown onto the table. She does something for him, and he lets her go. He lets her go and with that, he offers a mocking version of security. It’s easier to see the light when he’s not snuffing it out, when she’s still got her eyes. She can see how awful he is. How terrible she is for even listening, for not turning to her real friends for help. This will just isolate her more, only leaving him. The only person she’ll have left to turn to is the person who is hurting her.

the person who is using her. She knows it.

Yet still, she is walking.

The air shifts, the little pocket comes into view. A small area missing trees, a rock sits right in the center. The canopy still acts as a weird roof to this space. She doesn’t feel safe, but at least there’s no immediate danger. Not until he shows up, and he will. She knows he will. He always does.

Brin holds her arms tightly around herself, a slight shiver clings to her bones. Just wait.

Time gives her room to think, to consider. To figure out a way to escape this, escape him. The game she fell into. It's a trap, and she curses herself for not seeing it sooner. What was so special about him anyway? She shouldn’t be so hooked on a killer’s attention, but she is. And he knows it.

Her thoughts trail off to analyzing him, again. Probably for the hundredth time, despite how much she hates it. Everything about him is so wrong, because it’s so normal. He can be nice, funny, caring. It’s all a goddamn lie, though. He doesn’t care. He can’t. He’s a killer, he’s killed her, several times now. And each time, it’s only gotten worse.

Like a knife dragging up her spine, Brinley’s mind screeches to a halt. Panic surges, the shaking and trembling is much worse. She’s exposed- actually exposed- now. Her eyes dart everywhere, looking for that white mask.

She hears his sigh of satisfaction before she sees him, “Good, just making sure I’ve got your attention.” His voice is muffled, but finally he steps into view. He’s been hidden, probably watching her for at least a minute now. Bastard.

Her shaking is as bad as it could be, Brin swallows the ball of fear in her throat, only preparing to speak. Don’t say anything, yet, don’t set him off. This can be easy, just… Wait and listen.

He approaches so casually, stopping at the side of the rock, leaning against it. His hand pats the top of the dark stone, very politely asking- probably telling- Brin to take a seat next to him. With so much reluctance, she does. Her muscles tense, coiled like a spring, a bullet ready to fly; she’s ready to bolt. She wants to run away so bad, but being around him makes her crumble instead. She’s exposed anyway, running will only turn this into a very bloody discussion.

“You’re early, that’s good,” He comments, tone unbearably gentle. Before saying anything else, the mask comes off, and is set on the rock, “I’d hate to have to chase you down outside a Trial, really.”

Liar. He’s already done that.

Brin says nothing, her eyes are glued to the patchy grass. Only a hum of slight acknowledgment is let out, just to signal she’s listening. He has her full attention, well, her unharmed attention. It’s the eye contact that really hooks her brain. He’s terrifying. Something about silver eyes is so… Intense. It’s migraine inducing.

Of course that’s not good enough for him, though. No, the selfish prick needs more than her everything. Still maintaining the delicate demeanor, his finger nudges under her chin, bringing her gaze snapping up to his. The reaction is more than immediate. No touch, bad touch, she’s already overwhelmed. Fine, he wants 101% of her attention? He’s got it.

As always, his eyes pierce her, his presence digs into her soul. Like a magnet, she’s pulled in, regardless of the struggle she tries to put up. He looks too smug, too happy with how easy it is to throw her brain into a paper shredder. For a moment, he simply scans her, his face changes to concerned, worried maybe, “Aw, Sweetheart, why are you shaking?”

He should know why, “I- It’s… I’m just nervous, Jed, it’s fine.” Brin struggles to find her voice, when it comes out, it’s weak, just barely a few squeaks of an explanation.

The vibe changes, with it, a chuckle rumbles in his chest, setting her nerves on a razor's edge. She wants to run, to escape her own skin, but she’s locked in place by conditioning. Fear tactics and pain, but with the glowing lure of the catharsis of comfort. He’s able to turn on a dime, shifting from monster to some sort of guardian. It’s wrong, it’s so unbearably wrong and it hurts, but she can’t get away from it. No matter how hard she tries, “Relax, bunny, I'm not gonna hurt you, I just wanna talk.” He’s facing her more now, looming closer, “I’ve got a little job for you.”

A… Job? Jesus, what the hell does that even mean? The flicker of actual fear in her eyes makes him hum, “Don’t worry, it’s easy.” His reassurance isn’t convincing, “We’re both new here, aren’t we? Why don’t we help each other, then? All I need you to do is act as a sort of… Tracker.” Now she’s just confused, “Stick to a teammate, accidentally damage generators, don’t touch the totems if any are lit. Don’t waste your time trying to get them off hooks.” Ah, so he just wants her to lock herself away and be useless? Her heart hurts at the idea.

Brin’s eyes finally fall, her head turns away, her arms hugged tighter around herself, “I can’t.” She murmurs, finding speaking much more difficult, “I can’t betray them like that, I'm sorry…”

Again, the emotions in the air grow agitated, all this altering is giving the survivor whiplash. This conversation could go a lot faster if he just gave a clear order and left, but he’s never that simple. Quietly, a cooing hush comes from his lips, “Hey, it’s ok. They won’t know, they don’t need to know.”

… She shouldn’t feel relieved to hear that.

“I can just make them think it’s all me. They’re mean to me, Brinny. Them and the other killers.” Jed’s tone gets hurt, dull, melancholic, “Didn’t the other kids out there push you around? Help me out, sweetheart. In return, I can let you go more often.”

Cynicism mixed with the hatred of death makes this offer sound lovely. It’s not, it’s wrong. Everything about what they are is wrong. He’s a killer, a murderer and a stalker, and she shouldn’t be so willing to talk to him. To be near him with no one else around. Realistically, it’s horrifying, but in the moment, so many different emotions mix into something she can’t describe.

Is he even actually bullied by the other survivors? Sure, she’s not always there to see it, but she shouldn’t feel empathy so quickly either. Jed, being bullied? That doesn’t really make him seem scary, just pitiful. Her brain is tearing itself apart just to figure out what he’s trying to do. Is he trying to get her emotions? He already has that. Is he… Trying to seem human? Weak? Is he trying to earn her pity so she’ll help him? Or is he trying to make her dislike the other survivors? To dislike even other killers?

None of it makes sense.

She can’t answer, she can’t do much other than sit and fester in her own panicked confusion. She wants to know which game he’s playing so she can try and outsmart him, but the possibility of more than one game is what’s throwing her off. It’s already hard enough to constantly have to remind herself that she’s being played in the first place. She’s so desperate to feel something other than danger, and with him having given her that, she just wants it back. She wants the nice Jed, the Jed that serves as the personal bubble she lacks.

But this isn’t nice Jed. He’s scheming and plotting and if she threatens his plans, he’ll get angry.

And when he gets angry, he gets violent.

Brin doesn’t want violent Jed.

A brow is raised at her silence, his outward presence seems to get stronger just by him willing it so. How does he do that? He hasn’t moved an inch, yet somehow he feels so much more intimidating than before, “Ignoring me now, are we?” His tone is subtly scolding, that’s never a good sign.

It makes her practically jump from her spot, taking a wary step back just to have room to think. It’s so hard to think when he’s that close, all attention is glued to him just out of self-preservation, “N- No! Just… I'm sorry I don’t know… I wanna help, I do but-”

“But what, Brinny?” He asks, cutting her off sharply, “I don’t like it when you lie to me. You don’t want to help me, you just wanna make sure your little survivor buddies keep caring about you.”

Tears bite at the corners of her eyes. The air is hot, it’s thin but so heavy and it’s getting harder and harder to breathe. She’s cowering, another step back, “J- Jed, no, please just listen.” Brin pleads, trying not to cry, “I can… I’ll help, yes, but- But I can’t betray them, I need to help them.” Ok, ok. Her voice finds a slight levelness, the shaking in it isn’t as noticeable. Her desire to help her true friends is helpful in combating the fear his now harsh stare inflicts.

But, like with everything good, it’s short lived.

He strides closer, brow creased in apparent irritation, “Who do you want to help, then?” He questions, “You can’t get greedy and do both, Brin. It’s them or me.”

God- she’s backing up as he gets closer, soon there won’t be anywhere else to run. The ultimatum is agony. He doesn’t have any right to do that to her, she doesn’t- she isn’t his item. She isn’t a knife, she’s not some tool. She isn’t a spy for his bullshit. Justified anger mixes with fear, leaving a bitter taste in her dry mouth, “Don’t- you can’t… That’s not fair, don’t make me choose.” Please. She can’t do that, she just can’t. That’s why she goes to the others to guide her.

Whatever she said, it clearly snaps something inside his head. His hand shoots forward, grabbing her roughly by the jaw and pulling her forward, “I’m giving you options here, sweetheart.” Jed growls, glaring right into her soul, “Them or me. Who can really protect you from the other killers?”

That’s not a rhetorical question. She wishes it was, though, because now she’s only got so many seconds to come up with an answer, “...You.” That’s not what she wants to hear. Sadly, that hardly matters now.

“And who can get you out of more Trials?”

“...” For a moment, her brain refuses to speak, only breaking under the pressure of his grip tightening on her jaw, “You.”

“Who can get you better food?”

It might seem silly, but food matters here. In a different way, obviously. It keeps the occupants of the Fog sane for much longer. Keeping sensations alive, keeping the concept of life itself alive, “You.”

Finally his hold relaxes, as does his posture, “I do. So won’t you just do this little favor? I’ll still let you go, Bunny, just make a few simple mistakes.”

Brinley can’t make herself look at him anymore. All of that mental training crumbles under the stress that his eyes bring. She could look into them all day, if only he wasn’t so goddamn terrifying.

Her hands instinctively grabbed onto his wrist, not even looking to try and pry him off, just clinging to support. Her stomach is tied into knots, those knots are in other knots. She’d puke if she could, but sickness is strange here. So, she’s left with queasy nausea. She can’t do this, not to them, she just- think of the good. The stories, the laughing around the campfires. The little celebrations after they all get out of a Trial together. Those little moments where they’re all just humans, suffering together. Calm silence, small gestures.

That’s what she should be holding onto, that’s the good. Not this, not a killer. If she just told them about what was happening, they’d help. They’d all be there for her. Right? How could she have even considered the concept of working with the enemy just to survive?

“...N- I just…” Her main objective is escape, just she’s not willing to pay the price. She can’t accept this offer, he’ll treat it like a bloodpact. It practically could be, given all the blood he’s drained from her. No, she won’t be trapped in that agreement, because if she fails at it, he’ll probably torture her worse than before. Worse than a mori. Nothing is worse than being the only one left in a Trial with him, “Please, I- I can help in a different way, I just need time to think.”

Now she’s done it.

Attempting to toss out another, much less scary idea is impossible. His hand shifts, clamping down on her throat. Her own hands grip his wrist harder, nails digging into the cloth of his shroud, “Tick tock, Brinley.” Shit. Full name. No nicknames. Never did she think she’d prefer to be called ‘Brinny’ over her regular name before now, “I’m not interested in anything else. You do this favor, or I’ll hunt you for sport, even outside the Trials.”

No amount of good memories can keep the streak of selflessness going. Trials are already hard enough, sometimes other killers already give her enough hassle. She can’t speak, but she can try, nodding as she does, “O- o… Ok. Ye...s”

The guilt is agonizing, but if she didn’t answer, he’d probably strangle her to death. Brin wants to keep the dying to Trials, as much as she can.

Her response seems to please him enough, anyway.

Jed hums, letting go of her neck, gently holding her face after she coughs and wheezes for a moment or two, “See? There we go, it’ll be easy, I promise.” He’s back to being sweet. Fear does something wicked to her brain. Sweet means good, no pain, no danger. Fear also makes her want to break down. No pain? Time to go looking for something secure to crumble against. He can see it, too. Fuck, he can probably even sense how close her brain is to shattering completely. Indigo eyes shine with overflowing tears, all it takes to make them roll down her face are more gentle words, “Hey, you’re ok, Sweetheart, you’re ok.”

She’s not ok, but she can be.

Swaying forward, her eyes squeeze shut, her shoulders twitch in tandem with muted sobs. Nothing matters anymore, she doesn’t have the energy to care about what she just signed off on, she just needs to hide. Jed is the only thing to hide against.

So, she lets herself break down. He’s been particularly good at putting her back together. And then tearing her apart. Over, and over, and over.

Though, maybe with this, that’ll happen less.

God she hopes so.

#Moments from the Fog;; oneshots/shorts #//not so short #//for some context on Brin and Jed's history.#//He pretty much just forced her into sabotaging trials to make his job easier #//and in turn; isolated her from the other survivors #//fun times #//cut for length

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cinnamonzor · 4 years

Text

BrattyShipping Headcanons Pt. 5

Previous Posts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Teen Years

- After returning from the Isle of Armor, Victor opts to keep his hair at its newly grown-out length. This decision is partially influenced by it giving him a new comfort device for his anxiety and partially because he quickly discovers he loves Bede playing with it when it’s loose.

- Bede also enjoys it more than they’d wish to admit to anyone but Victor. Their brain temporarily short-circuited at how good the new style looked on him when they first saw it. If the prior notes didn’t convince Victor to keep it grown-out, Bede’s flustered reaction most certainly succeeded.

- Bede is SUPER touch-starved. Against most people’s expectations, they revel in Victor’s naturally cuddly behavior, accepting hugs and snuggles whenever possible. However, neither of them are particular fans of PDA, still preferring to keep their relationship on a need-to-know basis (i.e. their friends, family, Pokemon, and pretty much every significant character from the game).

- Opal’s one problem with Victor is his general lack of style, as all he really looks for in clothing is comfort. She takes several opportunities to insist he accessorize and/or throw some more pink into his outfit. Bede eventually decides enough is enough and gives him a necklace with a pink, berry-shaped charm on it to appease her (and if they enjoyed watching Victor’s face light up, so be it).

- Victor’s heard enough of Opal’s unsolicited fashion advice to figure out his significant other’s ulterior motive, but loves the gesture anyway. He attempts to find an accessory-related gift for Bede as well, settling on a cozy scarf with a little Hattenna logo on the end. They now wear it as part of both their casual outfit and gym uniform.

- While Victor’s social anxiety and tendency to overthink still act up from time to time, he’s still fairly secure in their relationship. They don’t openly admit to it, but Bede is actually the most insecure in that regard. Their past mistakes and the numerous fans Victor has meld with their abandonment issues and leave them frequently worrying Victor will leave them just like everyone else.

- Bede begins to slowly integrate into the friend group formed by the Postwick Trio and Marnie. They’re still reasonably wary of Gloria, but they grow to tolerate each other. They find themselves on much better terms with Hop and never really had any problems with Marnie in the first place. Victor still regularly finds himself mediating, though it’s not much worse than when it was just the original three.

- It takes some digging, but Victor manages to find out when Bede’s birthday is (personal headcanon: August 13). They’ve never bothered to celebrate it since before they arrived at the orphanage and have mostly just written it off ever since. Since birthdays have always been fairly significant in Victor’s family (a trait he himself retains), he takes it upon himself to ensure Bede enjoys theirs from then on as well (usually with an outing or meal and a thoughtful gift as the basis).

- Bede finds out about the twins’ birthday (personal headcanon: February 27) through Gloria insisting they arrive in Postwick to celebrate. She admits she’s not the hugest fan of having them over at a party that’s half for her, but she recognizes her brother is head-over-heels for them at that point and how much it’d mean to him if they came. She makes it particularly clear that their attendance is not optional.

- Their first major fight since their relationship begins is spurred by Victor’s concerns that Bede is still holding him at arm’s length after over a year together (rarely expressing themselves beyond surface value, waiting for Victor to reach out more often than doing so themselves, etc). Bede attempts to play it off as being due to their busy schedule as a gym leader, but Victor sees through it fairly easily. He mostly just tries to accept it, but it leaves him feeling particularly dejected and things are fairly awkward for a bit afterward.

- After a couple weeks (and, of course, some “guidance” from Hatterene), Bede admits to holding Victor at arm’s length and starts to open up a bit about their trust and abandonment issues. Victor also apologizes for prying too much and reminds Bede that he’ll always be willing to listen when they need it.

- Bede ends up taking Victor to the post-season League banquet as their plus-one when both are around sixteen or seventeen. The media assumes he came as his sister’s (who is still very much the Champion) and that Bede invites Opal as theirs. In truth, her invitation never ceased to be issued even after she retired.

- Everyone else who is invited is well aware at this point. Raihan, Nessa, Leon, and Sonia end up debating the plausibility of their blatantly contrasting personalities working well together. Piers doesn’t bother to join in, but silently agrees with Nessa and Leon based on the stuff he’s heard about their dynamic from Marnie.

- Victor’s favorite part of the event is the amazing catering and relatively low-attention atmosphere. Bede’s favorite part is how amazing Victor looks in a suit.

- Bede and Gloria end up facing each other in the League Finals that year. When Victor goes to congratulate them afterward, the three are mobbed by press and he starts having a panic attack. Both his sister and significant other go into “angry protective mode” and attempt to angrily tell off the paparazzi.

- Gloria tries to lead the press away while Bede gets Victor into the locker room to calm down. They haven’t actually seen him in such a state since the opening ceremony of their League challenge (and even then it wasn’t this bad), mostly since he’d figured out methods to cope with his crowd-induced anxiety and misophonia by the time it would have acted up around them. They have no idea what to do for the most part, but their presence manages to help ground Victor enough to employ the calming techniques he’s had to learn over time.

- On their way out, Bede is still pissed at the paparazzi for rendering their boyfriend in such a state. Taking advantage of Hatterene’s particular skill-set, they covertly send her out to inflict them all with migraines in spite. Gloria notices from across the crowd; her respect for Bede doubles that day.

- By the time both finish growing, Victor is a couple inches taller than Bede. Their hair makes it seem closer than it actually is, but it’s still not the most drastic height difference.

- Bede eventually figures out how to incorporate their puffer coat into their gym uniform. But before that happens, they return to their locker room one day to find Victor waiting for them while bundled in it. They nearly have a cuteness-induced aneurysm.

- It’s around age seventeen when Bede learns that being nonbinary is a thing and immediately clicks with it. When they come out to Victor, he spends a full day researching gender-neutral terms to refer to them by online. He’s wary of calling them his “partner” in fear of it sounding too serious, but Bede personally approves of the term themselves.

- After growing incredibly accustomed to Victor making food for them, Bede attempts to surprise him by trying their own hand at cooking. While they have much less experience, he adores the thought they put into it and informs them that it’s surprisingly good for a first try. He offers to teach them some tricks he learned and cooking together ends up being a favorite activity of theirs from then on.

- Bede accidentally left the Vengeance Board up the first time Victor saw their room later that day. It was at that point when they realized how potentially creepy having a bunch of mementos of their boyfriend tacked to a corkboard labelled “vengeance” looked, but Victor thought it was adorable and took a picture (with a few playful snarks thrown in, of course).

- That was also the first instance of them sharing an actual bed (instead of the couch that one time), falling asleep cuddled in each others arms. They groggily bid each other good morning when they wake up, only for Opal to throw in a “good morning” of her own from her chair next to them. Just like the first instance, there was some screaming involved (and a couple empty threats on Bede’s part).

- Bede isn’t prone to using cutesy nicknames, while Victor’s nicknames for them are “Love” and “Sprite.” Hop once jokingly used the second one after seeing it as their contact name in Victor’s Rotom Phone. It took three whole minutes to fish him out of the river.

- Upon nearing his goal for gaining funds and cooking experience, Victor ultimately plans to open his restaurant in Ballonlea. The quaint, whimsical nature of the town makes it an ideal location for both his desired atmosphere and projected business (since large crowds are less likely in a smaller town, but the sights and gym challenge will attract enough customers).

- After showing Gloria, their mom, and Hop his notes to assure them he thought everything through, he brings up the idea to Bede. They’re caught off-guard at first, but after thinking it through with Opal’s help, they inform Victor that they want to help with the preparations when their schedule allows and move in above the restaurant with him when its ready.

Still not done! Like hell I’m missing out on writing the domestic fluff!

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snarky-badger · 5 years

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Sequel to that Murphy's law reader? like She super paranoid going out and because of that the reader like really observant; the point where she can use her unluckiness to her advantage in a dangerous situation, like being chased by some thugs and they have a horrible time! an oil drum burst causing them to slip around, getting run over by a piano, and attacked by birds. before finally catching the reader in a dead end only for Venom jump in after enjoying "the show".

Prompt #2 - I feel like i’m not alone to fell in love with your “serie of unfortunate Events” did you follow the story with the reader meeting eddie or just keep writing it? Because i really love it i never see something that accurate with my life! It’s amazing!

Part 3 of what people have dubbed 'Murphy's Law Reader'. Part 1, Part 2

It took weeks after Venom's 'visit' for the building across from yours to fix the damage from both his little rampage and his written message clawed into the brick. The gun runner that had been Venom's prey had been found headless, amidst a pile of guns, ammunition and drugs. Bullet holes had marred the apartment's walls, signs of a struggle that had been rather one-sided.

It really should have bothered you, you knew it should have bothered you - Venom calmly eating brownies in your apartment before going to decapitate a bad guy. But it didn't. Not really.

Which was why you didn't bat an eye at baking more triple chocolate brownies the next day. Once cooled, you'd put them into a large Tupperware, then duct taped the entire thing to the side of the building just outside your window.

You didn't see Venom again, though three times you checked and found the Tupperware empty, and three times you refilled it with more brownies.Things went back to as normal as they could with you. You went to work - where computers would randomly refuse to function around you, printers would start printing gibberish if you walked past, and the IT department low-key thought you were some sort of computer virus come to life.

Then came the week of hell.

Monday, after your computer monitor had mysteriously started to emit a foul-smelling smoke, you'd been forced to walk home after the bus had broken down a block before needing to pick you up, and almost twisted an ankle after a cat had just bolted out of an alley and dashed across your path.

Tuesday, you'd been demoted to the mail room since your computer was still on the fritz and had nearly sliced your palm open with a exacto knife while fighting to open a box of toner for the Xerox machine.

Wednesday, you'd arrived at work drenched because a truck had motored through a deep puddle next to the sidewalk. Then someone had decided to microwave some foul-smelling fish dish in the microwave, and the smell had infected the entire floor of the building.

Thursday, you'd been sent back to your desk and your new monitor, whereupon your ergonomic chair had mysteriously dumped you on your head when the back of it had given way. Your flailing arm had caught the cord of your mouse and ripped it out of the computer tower. IT had merely sighed and handed you a new one.

Friday, your MP3 player that kept you sane while working had died, and no amount of prayer or charging could revive it. You'd been forced to listen to your the cubical-over's horrible music on their radio. It hadn't even been in English. Or Spanish. It had been some weird, high pitched thing with screaming and bells. Weird. Migraine inducing too.

You'd been so desperate to escape the horrible music that you'd snuck out of work early.

It was a sunny day - which meant no puddles. No cats bolted out in front of you. You were hoping to get home without any insanity, because you were really, really, tired. All you wanted to do was get home and hibernate until Monday.

Naturally, fate decided to throw a monkey wrench into that plan too.

Fucking fate. That bitch.

You were halfway home, crossing the street, when a cat call caught your attention. You turned towards the source of the whistle, meeting the gaze of a man who gave you a visible look-over and a leer, before he started to walk towards you.

Fuck no. You stopped that shit by glaring at him and giving him the finger before hustling into a little coffee shop for safety. He didn't follow you in. Taking a break and getting yourself a hot chocolate and a donut wasn't what you had planned, but it was better than dealing with Mr. I-Have-No-Respect-For-Women.

Only when you'd finished your sweet treat and made certain that the asshole was gone did you leave the shop. It was late evening, and the sun was starting it's descent. You hurried, wanting to get home, wanting, more than anything, to get out of your bra and put on a tee and shorts and just relax.

You were five blocks away when you heard fast footsteps from behind. You were already starting to turn when a hand grasped your left arm and tugged you to a stop.

"You can't take a compliment?"

Fuck. Your. Life.

"Let me go." You pulled on your arm, trying to get free. The man who'd cat called you merely tightened his grip until you were certain that you were going to have bruises, his dark eyes narrowing.

"I gave you a compliment. Least you could do is not flip me off like some whore."

"You cat-called me, asshole! That's not a goddamn compliment!" Growling you kicked him in the knee, then stomped on his foot. His grip on you loosened enough that you were able to twist your arm free. You paused long enough to whack him in the face with your heavy purse before spinning and making a run for it.

No need to bother looking back either. Just fucking run. This wasn't the time to hope for the good in mankind, this asshole was off his rocker.

Not surprisingly, you heard him yell and heard the sounds of pursuit, heavy footfalls pounding the sidewalk. No one that you weaved around bothered to even look up from their phones or bother to realize that you were in trouble. You poured on the speed, dodging people, hoping that nothing stupid would get in your way and trip you up enough that idiot would catch up and get his hands on you.

Naturally, someone splashed water onto the sidewalk ahead of you, suds and cleaning fluid from a mop bucket flowing over the concrete. You were going too fast to slow down, so you braced yourself for the worst, barely managing to stay upright as you skidded through it. The idiot behind you cursed loudly as he slipped, falling to his hands and knees in the suds and screaming at the poor store owner.

Well. Murphy's Law did help now and again. Didn't think it was possible.

Still, you kept going.

Four blocks to go.

Block three, and the asshat had re-caught up to you. Goddamn dude was quick, you had to give him that. Didn't think he had it in him - he'd stunk of cheap cigarettes and cologne. Though you didn't admire his persistence. Wondered how many other women he'd manhandled into going out with him or whatever. The thought made your stomach turn a little. Gross little man.

Three blocks, and his grasping fingers touched your back. You ducked, throwing yourself under a large table that two movers were carrying into an apartment building. You scraped your knees, but idiot ploughed into the piece of furniture and went down hard. The movers weren't too happy with him either, yelling at him and showing not one ounce of mercy for the moron on the ground.

You risked a laugh as you scrambled up to your feet and forced yourself back into a sprint. Two blocks. You could make that. Hopefully the asshat would stay down - ploughing into a wood table at high speed couldn't have felt good.

"Goddamn bitch!"

Well. There was something to be said about his tenacity.

Groaning, you darted past a man on a ladder trying to change a light on a sign, rolling your eyes when he dropped the bulb just as you went by, the 'pop!' of the bulb shattering and the flying glass making Mr. Moron behind you stumble a little.

"Lookout!"

That didn't come from the idiot.

You jerked your gaze forward, then threw yourself to the side, plastering yourself against a building as a Baby Grand Piano rolled past, three men running after the escaped instrument. Caught a glimpse of your personal idiot's eye's widening before he did a Stupid Thing and tried to brace himself to 'catch' said piano.

It didn't end well.

You didn't have to worry about him anymore.

The last block home was journeyed at a calm walk, though you did quirk an eyebrow at the ambulance that roared past, heading towards the, ahem, 'incident'. You stepped into your apartment ten minutes later, sighing tiredly as you locked the door behind you. Dropped your purse onto the floor as you kicked off your shoes, then headed for the fridge and the vodka coolers you kept in stock.

Didn't bother to turn on the lights as you shuffled over to the couch and plopped down onto it, taking a long guzzle of your 'Mike's Hard Lemonade'.

Your life.

No receipt no exchange.

You hoped the piano was okay.

Sighing, you inspected your dress pants, plucking at the material at your knees that was frayed from the friction of the sidewalk. Nuts. You'd have to order a new pair, because your work didn't allow jeans.

You were trying to gather up the willpower to go get changed when you heard a tap at the window. Ignored it for a moment, thinking it was another demented city pigeon, before it happened again, louder than a bird could manage without breaking it's tiny little feathered head open.

Frowning, you got up to see what new hell was trying to break into your apartment, eyes widening when you spotted Venom peering into your apartment, his curiosity quickly replaced by amusement when he saw you.

Sighing again, you went over and lifted the window open. "Sorry, I ran out of flour for the brownies and I haven't gone to the store yet."

"OH, WE'RE NOT HERE FOR THAT, NIBBLE," he rumbled as he squeezed through the window. You backed up a bit as he entered your apartment and rose to his full height, stretching a little. "WE WERE JUST SEEING IF YOU WERE ALRIGHT."

"...alright?"

"FROM THE CHASE."

"The... You... You were there?!" Okay, you were yelling at Venom again. Not something you should make a habit out of. "Why the everlasting fuck didn't you do something?!"

Massive shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "TO BE HONEST, YOU SEEMED TO HAVE A HANDLE ON IT," he told you, before smirking. "AND WE WERE LAUGHING TOO HARD AFTER HE RAN INTO THE TABLE."

You facepalmed.

"THOUGH THE PIANO WAS ENTERTAINING TOO." A low chuckle left him. "YOU REALLY DO ATTRACT THE WORST LUCK."

"Is that why you keep showing up?" you snarked as you went to retrieve your drink, grumbling as you finished it off.

Venom huffed a little at your comment. "WE'LL LET THAT SLIDE."

Another, tired, sigh left you, and your shoulders slumped as you turned to look at him again. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. In my defense, I've had a horrible week that just culminated with me getting chased by a pervert."

The exhausted, on edge, broken, tone to your voice pulled some odd thrumming noise from Venom, and you blinked as he took two large steps towards you before wrapping an arm around your waist and hauling you into a massive bear hug.

You tensed for a moment, your brain trying to make sense of the fact that Venom, of all people, was offering you comfort. But considering all the fuckery as of late, you couldn't bring yourself to really care. It was a hug. You missed hugs.

Closing your eyes, you leaned into him, your own arms wrapping around his waist as you listened to that odd growling noise that was leaving him. One of his taloned hands rose to cup the back of your head, tucking you close, and you relaxed into him. Fuck Murphy's Law. Let it try to get at you now.

He bent down to exhale warm breath into your hair. "BETTER?"

"Yeah." You felt like you should pull away, but he wasn't letting go, and you felt pretty happy to stay where you were. "Thanks."

"WE WERE ORIGINALLY COMING TO THANK YOU FOR THE BROWNIES," Venom told you with another vibrating rumble that rattled your bones. "WANTED TO KNOW IF YOU WANTED TO COME OUT TO SEE THE TOWN WITH US."

"You want me, Disaster Incorporated, to let you swing me around the city on those little webs?" You rose your head from his chest to look up at him. "Seriously?"

He smirked. "WE'RE CERTAIN WE CAN HANDLE ANYTHING THAT HAPPENS."

"You realize that's just asking the Universe to do something, right?"

A laugh left him. "WE'RE STRONG ENOUGH NOT TO GET TAKEN OUT BY A PIANO."

Yeah. You were definitely off your rocker. "Let me get changed into normal clothes and we can go."

The Saturday Edition of the Paper would later cover an odd explosion at a chocolate shop. Where upon a frazzled woman fitting your description was seen running from the store, carrying several boxes of high-quality chocolates, before the Demon of San Francisco swung down, missed picking you up, and pretty much just faceplanted himself into the side of a building.

No one knew where the piano came from, but it was found at the scene of the crime with a large bite taken out of it.

#snarky is writing #venom x reader #venom #reader x venom #filled prompts

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thenickelportrust · 7 years

Note

djfkdksl,, do you think we could get a sneak peek/drabble of a ricky kiss with a taller mc? because it seems it'll be a while before we get it in the game and i'm just super curious -- previous person

Technically I made a promise not to write any more shorts before updates are done… but today has been a li’l more stressful for me so I kinda wanted to relax and I’m gonna break this promise for the purpose of relaxation.

So, it’s a li’l vague, cause of possible spoilers, but here you go! (This entire week has just been a Ricky week for me and now it’s almost gonna be weird to have to go in and write with other character’s voices like dang, boy, way to take up an entire week.)

You readjust the wig in the mirror for the fifth time. You’re sure that nobody will recognize you, being a bit of a nobody yourself, but the danger is less that they see who you really are and more that they don’t see who you’re supposed to be. You pull the card out of the jacket pocket once more, Eli Finelli- black hair, green eyes, and completely plain-looking despite their important status. But it’s that good ole Regular Doe aesthetic of theirs that made them an easy target for impersonation. Sure, the contacts are just about as uncomfortable as a gunwound in the shoulder, and sure, the wig itches like a whole herd of bugs have decided to throw a parade atop your skull, and sure everything about this outfit of his reeks of the Desert Pine Oasis mini-cologne bottle that they keep in their lapel but other than that it’s fine…

What even is a ‘Desert Pine Oasis’, anyway?

From the smell you’d be more likely to label it ‘Someone Took a Big Bowl of Orange Juice and Just Dumped A Whole Lotta Lemons in It, Then Set It On Fire’. But, sure, ‘Desert Pine Oasis’ works well, too.

A quick buzz against the suite’s bathroom sink shows a blinking alert on the timer you set before the party starts.

You take a deep breath of the illogical landmass cologne and brace yourself against the sink. “Five minutes. In and out. You didn’t go through the trouble of tricking Finelli just to give in now. You can do this.” With that, you set a timer on your phone, five minutes, just like you said. All you need is to get close to Denise Washington, slip her the note, and run before anybody recognizes that you… aren’t you.

Five minutes.

Simple, right?

It seems so at first, at least. When you’re in the elevator and everything is quiet and peaceful, filled with just the metallic grinding noise of machinery and the soft, subtle jazz tunes that ironically don’t actually come from the elevator itself, but get louder and louder as you approach the bottom floor. The high-pitched ding, however, definitely comes from the elevator itself, and then…

Then everything gets a lot less simple.

You force a smile through the glaring, flashing, seizure-inducing lightshow that is the press, herded like animals between a series of velveteen ropes. The photographers stretch their arms out as far over the boundaries as they can before a gold-suited security guard inevitably shoves the offending limbs back into the line… is this what you must look like on the job? Ravenous- almost beastial with a kind of unhinged hunger for even just the blurriest of shots.

“That’s Eli Finelli!” Well, at least they’ve given you a kind of confirmation that the disguise works. “Eli!” “Finelli, over here!” “How does it feel to be invited back to Ms. Washington’s soiree after you split?” “Eli! What designer are you wearing?” “Any comment on the Igneous-fiasco?” “What are the plans for reconstruction?” “Eli Finelli!”

The combined pressure of light and sound assaulting your senses quickly gathers a migraine, it becomes harder and harder to force a smile through the thick layers of dizzying pictures and camera-clicks. You feel the need to loosen the bowtie around your neck. You feel like you can’t breathe. Like you’re suffocating under all this social weight. Struggling desperately to keep yourself from gasping and passing out, you try to think of something, anything, any point of clarity to help you answer this onslaught of questions. As if searching for an answer your eyes dart frantically towards the already-passing train of other VIPs in front of you, many of whom have congregated just outside the spotlight- a safe distance away from the intrusive inquiries while still being able to soak up all the glittering, front-page attention. A few of whom look upon you and the other slowly trickling-out fashionably-late-comers with grim grins of amusement. Among them-

Is that…

Ricky?

He stands there, looking politely disinterested in all the happenings around him, with his back turned to the press- and to you, chatting with an older woman in an expensive-looking suit who has long grey streaks running through her fluffed-back black hair. You squander the urge to call out to him- for all you know he and Finelli could be rivals, after all, and you can’t risk him recognizing you… But even just seeing him seems to calm your racing heart. Somehow, the screams seem less loud, and the camera bulbs shine less glaringly bright. When you turn to the others, you can smile with more ease. You can practically hear Ricky’s voice in your head- calm, assertive, collected.

You pause in your step, surveying the crowd with your hands confidently placed on the sides of your belt as you’ve seen Finelli stand in press photos. “What a lovely crowd gathered here tonight,” You can see his charming smile, perfectly even and poised, you’ve practically memorized that quirk of his lips, and that makes it easy to mimic, “I’m afraid I don’t have time to answer all your questions right now. Besides, tonight to celebrate Denise- not myself! Please, friends, wait for an official report or hearing, and then I’ll be happy to supply. But for now, let’s focus on the hostess, shall we?”

When you walk away, they call at your back, but you can barely hear them. Instead you find your eyes continually flickering towards Ricky, who you can now see wears a weary look of exhaustion whenever his face is turned from the cameras. Subconsciously you can feel your feet trying to guide you over towards him, but you school yourself into walking a straight line. Denise Washington, you just have to find…

You subconsciously glance over to him one more time- and one time was enough, because at that moment Ricky looks up from the ground and spots you over the shoulder of his companion. You freeze up, and the person behind you nearly crashes into your back as you try and fail to tear your eyes away. Ricky’s gaze narrows, and you watch as his expression shifts between varying levels of confusion.

You should look away. If you look away and fade into the crowd right now he won’t recognize you. You’ll just be another face in the crowd. You can do what you came here for and-

Too late. His eyes quickly go wide with surprise and you can see by the sheer shock painted across his face that he’s either recognized you, or seen a ghost… Then again, maybe you could count as both right now. He turns to the woman, says something quick and quiet before walking away from her- towards you.

Which is your cue to get outta there.

You try to slip into the crowd, in fact, you make it two ‘Excuse Me’s’ and one ‘Pardon’ deep before a hand catches your arm. Turning brings you face to face with a very confused, and, if it were at all possible, even more surprised Ricky Dempsey.

The idea of trying to keep up the charade is briefly considered and quickly set aside, he’s got you and trying to play it off would only make you look more suspicious. Still, you can’t risk being exposed. “Mr. Dempsey! What a pleasure to see you,” You turn around and grasp his hand in what might appear to any onlooker as a friendly handshake. “It’s really been so long, how I’d love to catch up in private sometime.” You give Ricky a pleading look, hoping against hope he gets the message.

Ricky, for his part, recovers quickly, and that practiced smile you’d imitated just moments before spreads over his lips. “If it isn’t Eli Finelli,” You practically sigh in relief. “What an… absolute surprise to run into you here. I must say, I almost didn’t recognize you at first…”

“Ah, yes, well, it’s been quite a while.” You wave the comment away quickly, “Now, as lovely as it is to see you I should really be greeting our dearest hostess.”

But he doesn’t let go of your hand… and you can’t say you aren’t reluctant to force him to do so.

“Come now, Finelli, it’s been too long for you to just… run off, like that.” Ricky counters, “Why don’t we… have a little chat, first?”

He squeezes your hand, almost imperceptibly, and you… You just sigh, “Alright.” and speak in your own voice, instead of the fake, high-and-mighty accent you’ve been putting on for Finelli.

“Fantastic,” Ricky also seems to lose a little of his grandeur, but his is quickly recovered with a clearing of the throat, and too-slow-for-others but somehow too-soon-for-you release of your palm as he adjusts his tie instead. “Follow me. I know somewhere a bit… quieter.” He seems to completely lose his façade for a moment, nearly tossing a wayward glare to the press before he remembers that the two of you are in public- and that Ricky’s got as much a disguise to keep up as you do. With that same, strained smile he guides you almost effortlessly through the crowd. You can’t help but notice that people seem to part for him, even when they don’t realize it all it takes is a calculated wave of the hand and they’ll step aside with laughing apologies. Soon, the two of you stand in front of one of the gaudy-gold-clad bouncers, but Ricky flashes an invitation and speaks a few words too quick for you to catch- and the guard steps aside. He waves for you to follow him into what appears to be a previously-closed off ballroom in the hotel’s lobby, the guard meant to keep you out even holds the door open for the two of you as you enter. By the time you look back- the door has already been slammed shut once more.

“How the hell did you manage that?” You try not to sound very impressed as you turn around to Ricky with a relaxed smile on your face. Already the quiet that the sealed room provides makes it easier to breathe, alleviating some of the tension between your shoulder blades. Ricky, however, looks just as tense as he was outside. He leans stiffly against one of the tables, arms folded and lips pressed into a thin line while he stares you down.

When you meet his eyes, he looks to the floor. “I could ask you the same thing.” He sighs deeply, and finally looks your way, “Do I even want to know why you’re dressed like Eli Finelli?”

Several excuses go through your head. Several excuses that would all be fairly logical and easy-to-explain. Several excuses that would probably be a lot better, and a lot smarter, than what you actually do- but you’re tired. Tired from this case and all the strain it’s put on you, and tired from having to keep up all these pretenses. You can barely remember the last time you had a quiet moment with Ricky, and part of you is happy that he’s just messed up your entire plan. Happy that he’s standing there, leaning against the table in one of his fancier suits, the bright, empty ballroom light falling across his face at a slant that makes the shadows look even more prominent by his nose and under his chin, looking as impeccable as always- if not a little moreso for the fancy occaison, though you practically didn’t think it was possible.

So you do the illogical thing, you grin and saunter towards him with a sly chirp to your voice, “What? This not your kinda thing?”

Ricky does his best to look surprised and annoyed that you just very obviously sidestepped his question, but even you can see the smirk tugging valiantly at the corners of his lips, “Not quite, no.” Ricky shrugs, looking a bit more relaxed as he settles into an easy banter. You’re practically toe to toe with him now, bright, icy blue eyes that seem uncharacteristically warm to for the color, “I think I much prefer you without the disguise.”

For all your grandiose speech and setup, the quick compliment catches you off guard, and the most you can reply with is a less-than-intelligible “Uh…” Followed by the brilliant quick recovery of “Thanks?” And what will inevitably amount to at least a week of crippling self-shame and embarrassment-fueled regret.

At least Ricky seems to get a kick out of it, a quiet, almost sarcastic snort slipping out as he tries to keep from laughing. Tries, that is, and fails.

“Well, wow, Ricky, you don’t have to laugh at me for it…” You grumble, but inevitably find yourself holding back a giggle-fit as well. Ricky pushes himself off the table, and suddenly the two of you are nose-to-nose and you’re watching those bright blue eyes of his once more. Almost subconsciously you reach a hand up and wrap it around the side of his jacket, grabbing onto it with a bit more stress than intended. Though you say nothing your gaze flickers down once towards his lips before being caught up again in his stare. The slightest of nods and you begin to lean down and-

Ricky steps away, nearly making you stumble forward into the table. “Well, now, I suppose I wouldn’t want to keep you from… whatever story all this requires.” You just manage to catch yourself, fingers slipping from his coat as he walks away, straightening his tie. He glances back at you, with a smug, self-satisfied smirk as you give him a shocked and frankly disappointed frown.

“Oh, you’re cruel, you know that?”

Ricky chuckles, this time unrestrained, as he turns back towards you. It’s a rare and happy sound, one that you’re proud to say you’ve only ever really heard while you’re around. In a moment you feel his hands reach up and cup around the sides of your jaw, tugging you down as he stretches up to press his lips to yours. Again, he catches you off guard, as you’ve no doubt he was intending to do. Still, you use what you can to your advantage, wrapping your arms around him and lifting him ever so slightly to get a better angle. You savor the familiar feeling, and for a moment allow yourself to forget that you’re wearing someone else’s skin right now. Because now, you can feel like yourself once more- slipping back into a well-known comfort as all the stress and pressure and fear of discovery melts away until it’s just you and Ricky in this empty room. You close your eyes, and then even the unfamiliar room fades away- until all you feel, all you know for this brief moment in time, is that comforting, easy bliss.

When he pulls away, setting back down on his own feet, you’re still reluctant to let go. “How else am I supposed to keep up with you?” He asks in a quiet whisper, afraid to break the almost sacred silence. Your eyes flutter open slowly, letting time and place wash back in at a relaxed pace. Even then, the reminders of where you are only seem to make your grip tighten on the back of his jacket. Ricky’s eyes flicker around your face for a moment, “I wasn’t lying when I said I prefer you without all this. It feels… odd… when you don’t look like, well, you.”

You laugh, a little bitterly, “That makes two of us.”

Sadly, Ricky steps away- for real this time- and you feel a quiet pang as your hands slip away from him. “Well, then, perhaps I can help.”

“Help?” You speak the word slowly, each letter accented with confusion.

“Of course. You mentioned you were here to see Denise Washington, correct? Well, you may look the part of Eli Finelli but in the end, you aren’t them…”

“Your faith in my skills is remarkable.”

Ricky rolls his eyes “Oh, come now, it’s no comment on you. Finelli and Washington were lovers for quite some time and, as I’m sure we’ve established, it’s fairly easy to pick someone you care about apart from the crowd.”

“Lovers, eh?” You pass him a sly smile. “You saying you in love with me, Dempsey?”

Ricky coughs, and his hands- of course- reach up to run through his hair, a slight red tinting the edge of his ears, “That wasn’t the point and you know it.”

“But it was a point, wasn’t it?”

“Do you want my help to convince Denise Washington or not?”

You feign a bow, “Why, Mr. Dempsey, I would be delighted to have you accompany me on this grand night.”

“No amount of my help will save you if you keep acting like that.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Please don’t.” Ricky sighs heavily, shaking his head. “You may have a story to complete but I’d still enjoy keeping my reputation as it is as well, if you don’t mind.”

Your grin falls, “Right… reputation, of course.”

Ricky catches your look and glances away, he’s silent for a moment, arms once again crossed across his chest as he shrugs, “Before we go, I… suppose I should let you know- despite how… disruptive your visit is, this was, perhaps, the most enjoyable part of tonight.” The corner of his lip tilts upwards in a lopsided, crooked smirk- much less polished and poised than the even media-smile he flashes the press, “I’m… happy to see you here.”

You perk up almost immediately, “You know, Dempsey, it’s actually not that hard to give a straight compliment without adding in something backhanded, contrary to popular belief.”

Ricky snorts again, “Oh come now, I have a reputation to keep up, don’t I?”

“You’re starting to sound like me.”

“You’re a bad influence.”

“I’m the best influence.”

“Right…” Ricky uncrosses his arms, nodding towards the door once, “Well, then, shall we get going, Eli Finelli?”

You grin and step up behind him, falling with reluctant ease back into your disguise, “Of course, Mr. Dempsey. And, I do hope that we get to have a ‘chat’ like this again.”

“Of course. The sooner, the better.”

#ricky dempsey #shorts #answers #this promise has already been broken like 3 times im apparently very bad at this

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for-the-love-of-the-music-blog · 6 years

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Exploitation of Musicians

I am hoping that after reading this, everyone has more respect, a deeper understanding and a more mindful approach towards musicians.

There is an ever-growing unhappiness I see in the musicians' eyes, and just the heartbreak you hear in their voices, despite the lyrics or songs.

I feel a need to make a change in their lives as much as they bring about a difference in mine. I feel that everyone who listens to music should read and share this article. Even if it only reaches a few people this may help to change the view and actions people have toward musicians in a positive and more insightful way.

Musicians are not just entertainers. They too have to deal with life, but we (fans, industry) don't allow them to do anything peacefully and with clear thoughts, I know that I've also been guilty of this. We have put so much pressure on these people. Their lives are always under a microscope. It is not always possible for musicians to stay sane when they are continually pushed and placed under stress and scrutiny, I will elaborate on this later.

Looking at it deeper as discussed, we place a lot of pressure on these musicians. Pressures to be on tour, pump out new music, promote their music through interviews and social media with the expectation set of each album being better and crisper than the previous. This can cause anxiety, high-stress levels, and depression. They then turn to Substance abuse to cope and keep them going, etc. Talented people are left in this cycle running down a rabbit hole leading them deeper and deeper into self-destructive patterns/behaviour.

For a better understanding of the point I'm trying to make, below I’ve summarized facts that I found during my research for this article.

The truth is that not everyone can be a musician: dedication, hard work, talent, persistence, and perseverance set them apart from everyone else, as with any career where people are good at what they do. There is a deep understanding and passions, but apart from that, I’d like to share some studies done on the differences between a musician and a non-musicians mind so everyone can understand how special they truly are.

Differences between a Musician & Non-musicians Brain:

Using Frequency Following response (FFR) experiments, scientists found that musicians may have a better musical memory as well as enhanced verbal memory compared to non-musicians.

Areas within the brain responsible for motor control auditory processing & spatial coordination is larger in musicians’ brains.

The Corpus Callosum of musicians is larger. These nerves make it possible for both hemispheres of the brain to communicate with each other.

In the book Musicophillia, that Dr Oliver Sack wrote he said, "Anatomists would be hard put to identify the brain of a visual artist, a writer, or even a mathematician – but they could recognize the brain of a professional musician without a moment's hesitation."

Everyone has read or heard that music is good for your soul and so on, but below, I have listed how important and good it truly is.

Effects music has on us:

Chemistry - When you listen to 'pleasant' music, for instance, this can lead to the production of serotonin and dopamine, which are the happiness hormones.

Chronic headaches & migraine remedy

It improves sleep.

In Sync - One thing that research tells us about music is that it can 'entrain' our brainwaves.

Increases verbal Intelligence

Listening to certain music can actually alter the way you perceive (see) another persons face.

Mozart's anti-seizure effect- The latest 2014 study revealed that listening to Mozart K 448 (Sonata for Two Pianos in D major) reduced the seizure recurrence and epileptic form discharges in children epilepsy.

Music greatly affects and alters our moods.

Music has the power to enhance some kinds of higher brain function: Reading and literacy skills, Spatial-temporal reasoning, Mathematical abilities, and Emotional intelligence, Recall of autobiographical and episodic information

Music improves concentration and attention.

Music improves mood and decreases depression.

Music improves neuroplasticity – this is the brain's ability to form and reorganize synaptic connections, especially in response to learning or experience or following injury.

Music improves overall health.

Music improves physical activity and motivation.

Music reduces pain & helps the healing process.

Music reduces stress, aids relaxation & lessens anxiety.

It promotes Post-Stroke Recovery.

It raises IQ, academic performance, memory & learning ability.

Reducing blood pressure

The four central hypotheses explaining music's facilitation of exercise performance include - Reduction in the feeling of fatigue, Increase in levels of psychological arousal, Physiological relaxation response, Improvement in motor coordination, Body movement and coordination, Music helps to work more productively.

Tinnitus -Music therapy in the early stage of tinnitus can prevent tinnitus from becoming a chronic condition.

***Interesting Fact - Specific frequencies induce different states in our brain:

Beta Waves

Hertz Level: 14–40 Hz

Effect: Awake, normal alert consciousness

Example: Actively conversing or engaging in work

Alpha Waves

Hertz Level: 8–14 Hz

Effect: Calm, relaxed.

Example: Meditating, reflecting, taking a break from work

Theta Waves

Hertz Level: 4–8 Hz

Effect: Deep relaxation and meditation, mental imagery

Example: Daydreaming

Delta waves

Hertz Level: 0–4 Hz

Effect: Deep, dreamless sleep.

Example: Experiencing REM sleep

It is now clearer how music & musicians enrich our lives, offering more than we realize to us.

There are a few factors to consider when thinking of people within the music industry. They are placed under huge amounts of scrutiny and stress to live up to expectations, having to deal with life, and demands to make sure to stay relevant and at the top.

Studies found that due to fame many people suffer, and struggle. Although this is, what musicians want and work very hard to achieve these studies have concluded that the reason people strive for fame usually is due to a deep need for feeling accepted, loved and appreciated. When the realization that the void isn’t being filled becomes clear, it can lead to feelings of dissatisfaction, disappointment and heartbreak. The dire need to try to fill the void expands and deepens. This is not to mention the detrimental effects that fame has along with the pressure, and trying to deal with this "void" daily.

Effects fame can have on people:

No Privacy

Intense scrutiny if it is their personal lives or in their career.

Huge amounts of pressure usually unrealistic expectations from fans as well as the industry/labels/managers, etc. to stay relevant and achieve.

Paranoia increases

Feeling suffocated "like a caged animal"

Lost sense of self

Feeling unfulfilled /Loss sense of challenges

Fear of becoming irrelevant

Feeling inferior or undeserving.

Feeling alienated and isolated intense.

This can lead to:

Self-doubt and higher levels of insecurity within work- and personal life.

Self-destructive behaviour occurs.

Depression and anxiety levels rise.

Mental instability and stress heighten.

Due to above-mentioned musicians turn to substance abuse and alternative coping mechanisms, they are just humans that are expected to have god-like abilities in the sense of juggling everything in their personal and professional life. Trying to cope, keeping everyone happy, staying sane and at the top.

The most frightening aspect isn't the abuse of anything but that supposedly “caring” fans, the "industry" and their management teams watch from the sidelines how the out of control spiral happens. No helping hand is extended as it is a "do whatever is needed” industry. If it is required to take something to stay at a certain level or achieve a goal, it will be catered for or even sourced, leading to a dependency in some cases.

Effects of long-term Substance Abuse:

Due to numerous factors, depression, paranoia, and anxiety, form or worsen this also means that the kidneys, liver, heart and lungs start developing deadly problems. Now, this is a bit of a catch 22 situation. Is the depression or substance abuse a result or a cause and vice versa.

Ways to Manage Stress, Pressure and Anxiety along with the reasons musicians struggle to break the cycle:

Take time out — Being on the run and having to be relevant doesn't allow proper downtime.

Eat healthily — when you are in the studio or on tour doing shows, eating healthy isn't always an available option.

Limit caffeine intake - When you need to stay awake Caffeine is usually option one.

Exercise daily — again on tour or having to be in the studio allow little to no time for exercise.

Get enough Sleep — again on tour, having to be in the studio, having to work on new projects there isn’t time available to get enough sleep.

Don't Use Drugs & Alcohol — Dependency is usually created due to the need to stay awake, calm nerves when performing or whatever the case may be, this is already a lost cause.

If you break down the Pressure, Stress, Anxiety, and Depression - all these require good sleep patterns, eating healthy etc. that is nearly impossible if you are on tour for months at a time or busy with new projects or just in the studio recording new material. Consequently, this spiral just continues daily.

Furthermore, according to the site "weheartmusic" from the 1st of January until the 4th of September this year already 439 musicians have passed away, in 2017, 589 musicians were lost and in 2016, 603. I find this very sad and heartbreaking to say the least. I will be adding the reasons and causes at a later stage.(As this is a lot of data to work through)

So, in conclusion, I truly hope with all the information gathered and presented that everyone that reads this, will be more caring, more aware, considerate and conscious in what they expect, and the demands they place on the musicians they adore or actually just musicians in general.

Below are interviews with just a few musicians we lost in 2017. When no one was listening.

Chester Bennington

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZC_-zeWYMYo

Col Bruce Hampton

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cNezyaXlMjM

Chris Cornell

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qMtDwjUXtsY

Gregg Allman

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p-Xuf_pkpUQ

In the future, I would like to conduct interviews with a few Musicians and get their views and their feelings about their own lives within this industry, so everyone can understand where they are coming from and going through on a daily basis.

Please see the reference list below:

“Do Musicians Have Different Brains?”

https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/eyes-the-brain/201006/do-musicians-have-different-brains

“Musician Psychology Accounts for Talent, Success”

http://online.notredamecollege.edu/psychology/musician-psychology-talent-success/

“Behind the music: Why are musicians more likely to suffer from depression?”

https://www.theguardian.com/music/musicblog/2010/dec/17/musicians-depression

“Insomnia, anxiety, break-ups … musicians on the dark side of touring”

https://www.theguardian.com/music/2015/jun/25/musicians-touring-psychological-dangers-willis-earl-beal-kate-nash

“The Psychological Consequences of Fame”

https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/genius-and-madness/200903/the-psychological-consequences-fame-0

“The psychological impact of being in the spotlight: the emotional struggle of celebrities”

https://drchristinavillarreal.com/2010/03/26/psychological-impact-being-spotlight-emotional-struggle-of-celebrities/

“Fame is a Dangerous Drug: A phenomenological glimpse of celebrity”

https://www.saybrook.edu/blog/2012/02/18/02-18-12/

“Music Affects the Brain for the Better”

https://blog.bufferapp.com/music-and-the-brain

“Music and the Brain:”

https://www.consciouslifestylemag.com/music-and-the-brain-affects-mood/

“How Music Affects Us and Promotes Health”

http://www.emedexpert.com/tips/music.shtml

https://examinedexistence.com/the-effect-music-has-on-the-brain/

“How Does Music Affect the Brain?”

http://www.healthguidance.org/entry/17143/1/How-Does-Music-Affect-the-Brain.html

“9 ways music can improve your life”

http://theweek.com/articles/448464/9-ways-music-improve-life

“5 Ways Music Affects Your Life For The Better”

https://finds.life.church/5-ways-music-affects-life/

“How Music Affects Your Life”

http://www.syncrat.com/posts/5060/how-music-affects-your-life

“Musician Reveals 5 Ways How Music Changes Your Life”

http://www.michaelgregoryii.com/2015/06/musician-explains-how-music-changes-your-life/

“Musicians Who Died in 2017”

http://weheartmusic.typepad.com/blog/musicians-who-died-in-2017.html

“Musicians Who Died in 2016”

http://weheartmusic.typepad.com/blog/musicians-who-died-in-2016.html

“Musicians Who Died in 2018”

http://weheartmusic.typepad.com/blog/musicians-who-died-in-2018.html

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#musicians #goodmusic #article #music #fortheloveofmusic #musiclife #melody #musiclover

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