#THEY NEED TO MAKE LISA FRANK FOLDERS AGAIN
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wtf happened to the lisa frank folders i need them back dude, i was looking for folders to keep my info in and remembered lisa frank and realized “holy shit i can do whatever i want” I COULD NOT FIND THE LISA FRANK FOLDERS OMG 😭🫡
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mire
From the age of six, Daisy’s father tells her the same thing all the time: Your penmanship will mire you down.
She’s probably the only kid in kindergarten who knows what the word mire means, but if you asked her to write it out on a piece of paper, it wouldn’t look a damn thing like any language. Her M’s look like bats hanging upside down in Dracula’s castle; her capital B’s look like snowmen on an operating table. Her teacher pulls her aside and gives her a special folder – one with purple Lisa Frank kittens on it – and tells her the papers inside are just for her. Very special handwriting practice. Daisy, of course, sees right through it.
Come on, Daisy! her teacher sweetly pleads. Don’t you want to write neatly? Don’t you want people to read all your good ideas?
Daisy considers it. She does have good ideas. In half-day kindergarten, she thrives in the dress-up area, directing little plays for her friends to perform in. One of the student teachers says she’ll be a great Dungeon Master when she grows up, which sounds cooler than it ends up being (at least, sometimes). But as hard as she tries to make her writing look like everyone else’s, it just doesn’t work. She can’t muster the patience.
My hands work too slow for my brain, she says, and she keeps it up until junior high.
Mercifully, in junior high, she’s allowed to use a computer, and all her good ideas are suddenly legible to everyone else. But there are still those times when she needs to write things out with her hands. As she gets older, her handwriting gets a little better, but it’s still much messier than the average person’s. In school, people still snicker about it. Nobody wants to read Daisy Feng’s paper “because they can’t read it at all.” Around the time she’s sixteen or seventeen, she’s convinced it’s an excuse not to talk to her. Very few people want to be friends with the girl who’d grow up to make a great Dungeon Master. Her penmanship mires her down, but in ways her father the linguistics professor never could have imagined.
And then, there’s graduate school. Columbia. A gaggle of film nerds whose brains work just as fast as Daisy’s does, and yet, they all have much neater handwriting. She’s looked around the seminar table. One evening, she’s leading the discussion on Roger Corman and The Wild Angels, and she has to write on the whiteboard. She panics, and it all comes out in scribbles. There come the laughs again.
From everybody but Emma.
Emma can read what Daisy’s writing. What’s more, Emma can talk about it. And Daisy’s never felt more thrilled in her life. Thank goodness for Emma.
Sometimes, she thinks, people were just born to be your best friend.
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it takes two | one shot (myg)
summary: min yoongi was the one who came to understand you and took you for you. but, when boundaries start getting crossed and priorities begin to change, you start to question if your relationship with your bestfriend is strong enough to make it through.
pairing: athlete!reader x athlete!myg
genre: bestfriends to lovers au, basketball au | fluff, angst, smut
words: 12.3k
warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, protected AND unprotected sex (later on), slight breast play, oral (f. receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, missionary, riding/straddling, mentions of alcohol consumption, dancing, mention of marijuana, sex on the beach kinda?, some heavy angst, insecurities, crying, injuries (like a cut/ankle sprain), yoongi is just kind of an idiot at one point
note: heavily inspired by the movie love and basketball. unedited for the most part, pls excuse any spelling/grammar errors.
tags: @ggukkieland @miinoongi @bluesharksandfish @unicornbabylover
⏏︎ now playing: triggered - jhené aiko ; sorry enough - chris brown
First Quarter: 6th Grade
You didn't really have a lot of friends in elementary school. Any, actually. Hell, the girls in your class purposely ignored you because you acted different. Dressed different. Enjoyed the shit boys liked, like playing ball and video games. You couldn't relate to their gel pens, Lisa Frank folders, cute binder stickers and bracelet charms. None of that shit was you. But you didn't care, you were fine by yourself. Nobody to please, nobody to care for.
The only person that came to understand you was Min Yoongi and that's because you played basketball with him and his friends during daycare. At first, it came as a surprise because truthfully, you felt like Yoongi only let you play because he felt bad for you. Which, okay, whatever— so be it. But, after the last round during a game of two versus two, you found yourself on the ground, huge gash on the knee from chasing after the ball before it could go out of bounds.
"Ouch! Crap!" You groaned as you sat up and checked out your knee. Yoongi walks towards you and crouches down, examining the bloody gash.
"Come on." He says, holding out a hand to help lift you up. He swings your arm over his shoulder, already knowing that any sudden movements to your knee can make the wound sting. He takes his time and walks with you as you hop on one leg towards the office, not really saying much. Yoongi wasn't the most talkative in class. He hung out with two or three other boys in your class on the daily, but they were quiet. Weren't much troublemakers, didn't cause ruckus like the other boys did. But, he was still popular among the girls because he was a little cutiepie. You remember walking into the bathroom, hearing Angie and her friends tease her about her crush on Yoongi. Then, the following week, one of her friends also ended up crushing on Yoongi and they bickered [weirdly] in the bathroom about it.
Getting to the office, he sits you down on the bench before approaching the office admin to grab some bandaids and ice for you.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Min?" Mrs. Yao comes over to greet him.
"Y/N's hurt. Can I get a bag of ice and a bandaid for her, please?" Mrs. Yao looks over her shoulder and does a head tilt before sighing. She knew you weren't like the girls in your class, always getting hurt one way or another, being more hardheaded and stubborn than the usual. She grabs a bag of ice and hands the supplies over to Yoongi before placing her hands on her hips.
"You think you can take care of Miss Y/N, or do you need me to help?" He shakes his head.
"I got it, thank you Mrs. Yao." He politely says, giving her a small toothless smile. You silently watch as he walks over, crouching down once again to tend to your wounds. "I don't think this will hurt, but stay still so I can put this bandaid on." He says softly as he spreads the small Neosporin packet across your wound. He wipes his finger down on his pants before removing the back of the bandaid and pressing it against your knee. "There. You should keep the ice on it so it doesn't bruise and stuff." He stands.
"Thank you." He nods as he watches you stand and slightly limp before you adjust your steps to the right pressure. He follows you out, coming back to your side with his hands in his pockets.
"Why don't you act like the other girls?" He asks, cocking an eyebrow at you.
"What? Not liking all the girly stuff that they like?"
"Sure, or you playing basketball. You know girls are usually like cheerleaders and cheer the guys on instead."
"Well, I don't wanna be a cheerleader. I just would rather play. What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing, it's just weird to see."
"You're weird." You snapped back.
"How am I weird?"
"You shoot weird."
"And you don't? I shoot better than you." He furrows his brows.
"No you don't."
"Fine, wanna play one more time? Unless you're a wuss and can't play cause of your knee." You rolled your eyes at the sudden change of events.
"I'll play you, I'm not a wuss. Unless you're afraid to lose to a girl." You taunt him as you both walk back to the court.
"Whatever, I'm not afraid cause I won't lose." He grabs the ball and checks it in. "My ball first."
"Sure, if you think that'll help."
And that's how Yoongi lost to you, busted knee and everything. From there, it was history. You became inseparable, Yoongi becoming a large part of your days and vice versa. His parents eventually became close to yours after the numerous times you both have been dropped off to hang out, or catching rides home after school. Yoongi lived in a nearby neighborhood, only being a good 7 minute walk, to be exact.
Second Quarter: High School, Senior Year
In high school, it became a little different. Yoongi grew up, played varsity basketball and became a fucking jock even though he claimed he would never. Yeah, bullshit. You too, played on the girls varsity basketball team, and surprisingly, you two kept each other close. It was a blessing and a curse though, because you couldn't see your life without Yoongi. He's been there since the 6th grade. However, girls took note of that shit. Trying to use you as their way in to Yoongi's heart, or pants, or both. You made it very clear though that you weren't interested in being a fucking messenger. Girls thought you were mean, but really, they just couldn't handle you. Hence, why you really couldn't relate and be one of them.
Yoongi was still the only person who could understand you and handle you, bad attitude and all. Tomboy habits and all. Not wanting to make friends and all.
"Jesus fucking christ, the day just started." Yoongi says as he watches you toss your duffle bag and backpack aggressively in the back seat of his car. "What's your deal?"
"Nothing, I'm just tired." You slump in his passenger seat after buckling your seat belt.
"Chill, don't start your day like this."
"Whatever, dad." You rolled your eyes, causing him to let out a pathetic chuckle.
"Are you coming to my game later?"
"Yeah, if I'm not too tired from practice."
"Y/N, I always make it to your games even if I'm tired."
"Do you?"
"The fuck? Yes I do. When haven't I?" His tone raises with yours. "Don't try and justify your shit by coming up with lies."
"Yeah, yeah bighead. You'll have plenty of cheerleaders there for you."
"Yeah and?" He smirks. "You're the one I'll be looking for though." He caresses your chin, making you smack his hand away while he laughs loudly.
"You're stupid." You groan as you sink lower in his seat. The rest of the ride to school, you shut your eyes and enjoy the peace before you're having to walk down those annoying, congested hallways.
People rave a lot about senior year, but it honestly hasn't felt special to you. Maybe because you kept the same routine since freshmen year, or maybe you really just didn't care as much as everyone else did about how "special" it was. You've always been locked in to basketball even if your mom wasn't a big fan of it. She wished you were more into cute, girly shit, like makeup, shopping, manis and pedis and dresses and heels, but she came to accept this was the way it was going to be. Especially because your dad was your biggest fan. You came to love basketball, more than just a side hobby. You joined the varsity team and practiced day in and day out. When basketball wasn't in season, you'd play with Yoongi at the park or sign up for camps and tournaments. You just wanted to keep bettering yourself so that you could play in college and get into the league post-grad. Yoongi was the same, and he may or may not have influenced your passion for ball. Either way, he was always supporting you and cheering for you even if the other females hated it.
His ex for sure hated the relationship you had with him even though you really steered clear when she was around. Wasn't your fucking problem or responsibility to take care of her insecurities. Same with his flings.
"Hey, so later, yeah?" He asks in between throwing nods and smiles to girls passing by.
"Mhm." You hum. "You gonna be free for lunch later?"
"I don't know. I know where to find you though if I am."
"Have a good day, punk."
"You too, bub. See you in English." He turns on his heel, walking towards his friends, aka his team members. Aka his jock ass group. Aka the ones females flock to.
Namjoon, Jimin, Eunwoo, Lucas.
They were all pretty boys who knew they were pretty boys and used that to their advantage to make big asshole moves. You hated that Yoonks got pulled in from time to time, but shit, it wasn't your life, you were only a small part of his. Sometimes, they also pulled in the football boys, Jungkook and Seokjin. Even the baseball boys, Hoseok and Taehyung. It was all a huge pretty boy, jock, asshole group in the making outside. A big fucking party for a lot of the girls at school, though.
So even if Yoongi was really the only one in your life, you weren't the only one in his. It is, what it is. As long as he doesn't go switching up on you, then whatever, so be it.
The first half of your classes go by quick, being that you enjoyed your chemistry, french and english classes. You had your english class with Yoongi, Namjoon and Hoseok. You had gotten to know Namjoon and Hoseok a little through it, and it was enough to know that they weren't all that bad. At least in this classroom setting.
"You two going to prom together?" Namjoon asks, making Yoongi snort.
"No, what the hell?" Yoongi responds.
"You guys can have fun at prom." You roll your eyes.
"You're really not gonna go?" Joon bites on the end of his pencil.
"No? The fuck I look like?"
"Y/N, I know it'd be weird as fuck to see you in a dress, but it's senior year. You didn't go last year, did you?" Namjoon asks from Yoongi's other side.
"Really, Namjoon?" You give him a look as if it could state the obvious.
"Well shit, I don't know. I know it's not your thing but can't really say I would have noticed either way." Hoseok laughs, causing you to throw your pen at his head before flicking him off.
"Miss Y/N!" Mrs. Maxwell calls you out mid-movie, eyes wide and in disbelief at how you're acting.
"What?! He started it." You slumped back in your seat and let out a sigh.
"Not another word." She says sternly.
"Not another word." You mock her under your breath.
"Aye, stop. You and that attitude boutta get in some trouble the last weeks of senior year." Yoongi puts his hand on your wrist, causing you to shake your head and click your teeth.
"Anyway, you should go." Hoseok whispers as he leans over on the table to look at you.
"No. Besides, with what date?"
"Take the basketball." Joon snickers.
"You're a complete dumbass, Namjoon. Stop talking." You snap.
"Maybe they're right, bub. It's senior year and it's coming to an end quick. I'd hate for you to regret it." Yoongi turns to you and says lowly.
"You know that won't happen." But really, part of you did feel a little bad. You knew it wasn't your scene, and you really didn't care what people thought of you when it came down to it. However, you always wondered what it would be like if someone liked you. If someone wanted you. Crushed on you so hard that they couldn't keep their hands off of you, couldn't stop thinking of you. Your first love. To feel pleasure, pain. Mixture of emotions simply by being in love. You wondered what it would be like to lose your virginity and have good, good sex. Besides, you were a human with needs. But the only person you have ever been close to was Yoongi. For the most part, you didn't see him that way because you knew he definitely didn't. But, you also couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to take your relationship to that point. If it was anyone, he would be the one you'd have feelings for. He would be your first kiss, your first everything. Because Yoongi was comfort and security for you.
But you valued your friendship more than anything.
"Just saying, think about it." He follows up.
"Think about getting an expensive dress and painful ass heals to wear for one night, just to dance around in 'em and take one professional pic with a date? Maybe get railed if I'm lucky?" You playfully wiggle your eyebrows making Yoongi shake his head.
"Don't be such a party pooper for once."
"Mmm. Great reasoning. Really convincing me here." You laugh it off even though in all honesty, you were thinking about it.
The bell rings and thank god it's finally lunch because you were fucking starving. Appetite and attitude on na-na, no doubt. You silently part ways with Yoongi to stop by your locker and grab your lunch. You make your way to the rowdy ass cafeteria, quickly scanning the room to catch a sight of Yoongi. You see him sitting on top of one of the lunch tables with Hoseok, Namjoon, Jimin and Taehyung sitting around him. Clearly, Yoongi wasn't free today.
"Wassup baby? Wanna trade that ball in for me?" Jimin says as you pass by their table to make your way outside to the bleachers. You flick him off before rolling your eyes and pretending to gag.
"Fuck off, Park." The group laughs except for Yoongi.
"Wonder if she's got that bad attitude in bed, too." Yoongi doesn't hesitate to smack Jimin upside the head because yeah, no matter what, he was gonna protect you as much as possible. "Owwww, I'm just kidding Yoongi."
"Don't let me hear you say that shit around me ever again."
"Fuck, I'm sorry. It was just a joke." Jimin winces as he rubs the back of his head.
"Damn Min Yoonks, why don't you take her ass to prom if it's like that?" Taehyung says, chewed up food coming into full view as he smacks loudly.
"Why don't you learn how to close your mouth first?" Yoongi spits back.
"Y/N is really rubbing off on you."
"It's manners, idiot. You should've been learned that." Namjoon says, laughing.
"But foreel, why won't you take her? You both are close, you've never seen her that way?" Hoseok asks making Yoongi shake his head in response.
"She's my bestfriend. I value her just the way she is, no more no less."
"Ah, you must have thought about it at least once." Yoongi keeps silent. Luckily, the group easily gets distracted and starts paying attention to Seokjin and Jungkook coming over as they talk about the dates they've scored for prom.
Yoongi has thought about it. Still does. Just like he is for you, you're the only one who understands him and takes him for who he is. You know the real him besides basketball player Yoongi. You're the only one who keeps it real. But he would rather keep it this way than ruin things between you and him. He'd hate to fuck up with you because he knows he can fuck up, there's no hiding from it. He'd never forgive himself if he lost you.
Practice is hell today for you and fuck, you really wanna just go home and lay down for the rest of the evening. Coach had you all running suicides and conditioning drills on the courts outside and pulling scrimmages against each other left and right. Let's not forget how coach is always on your ass right before a game too. Hell, she catches an attitude way worse than you before game time and after a loss. You wanted to avoid that at all costs. But, to avoid taking the bus home and instead hitching a ride with Yoongi, you throw on a hoodie and haul your ass to the gym in some nike slippers. You take a seat on a free end at one of the bleachers, holding Spalding in between your legs with your duffle next to you on the floor. The game is off to a start in about 5 minutes, Yoongi catches sight of you on the bleachers and nods. You give him a small smile as a gesture of good luck, which he reciprocates.
The game starts off intensely, both teams scoring closely even with the boys putting straight pressure. Towards the end of the first half, Yoongi and Eunwoo are the leading scorers, putting their team up by 10. Halftime is a bunch of hoo-haa, with cheerleaders in their itty bitty skirts, trying to shake their asses as they cheer for the boys. The boys don't even hide the fact that their ogling, and it's clear as day they all want some pussy. Quite frankly, they walk around thinking they deserve it cause of how hard they try to pull some wins and put the school on the map. Student government comes up for a bit too, pulling some kind of skit to weirdly promote prom. It makes you cringe and in all honesty, it makes you not wanna go even more, but it is your senior year. If you can snag a date, then maybe.
"Hey." Terra [not a cheerleader but still a pretty, popular chick] plops next to you with a smirk on her face. Immediately, you want no part in it because you already know what she's trying to do.
"Hi?"
"I'm just gonna cut straight to it. Do you know if Yoongi is seeing anyone?"
"How the hell would I know, Terra?" You furrow your brows at her.
"Because you're close to him, aren't you?"
"And? Doesn't mean I'm telling people his business. Besides, he's not obligated to tell me everything just cause we're close." She rolls her eyes.
"Whatever. Look, can you do me a favor and give this to him?" She tries handing you a little ass piece of paper folded neatly with a pink heart decorated on the front.
"Why don't you give it to him yourself?"
"That's no fun." You scoff and roll your eyes. Really, miss girl? "Be a doll for once, yeah?" She winks and slips the note in between your wrist and Spalding so it stays put. You take the note and eye it, letting out a deep sigh as you shove it into your pocket. You weren't in the mood to be extra rude today so you'll give it to him later when he drives you home.
The game finally finishes with Yoongi making a final three, the boys keeping their lead up by 10. Everyone cheers and showers the boys with love after the team has finished shaking hands and high-fiving their opponents. You stick around until the crowd dies down, watching Yoongi flirt with Terra as you swing your duffle bag strap onto your shoulder before slowly heading down the bleachers.
"Hey bighead, good game today." You lightly punch him against the chest.
"I knew you'd come."
"Shut up. I'll be at your car."
"For what?"
"Cause you're taking me home, punk."
"No please?"
"Please." He shakes his head and chuckles before you part ways to let him gather his things in the locker room. When you finally catch sight of his teeny head coming towards you from the gym, you hear him unlock his car to let you in while he continues to walk over.
"Fuuuuuck." He says, throwing his things in the back before buckling his seat belt and switching the gear into drive.
"You have fan mail." Yoongi looks over and sees you clutching the note Terra gave you.
"What's that, a condom?"
"You're sick. It's from Terra."
"Who's that again?" You make a face at him.
"You were just telling her sweet nothings earlier after the game?"
"Oh, Terra with the tig o' bitties. Got it." He shakes his head. "I wasn't telling her sweet nothings."
"Right. You're an absolute dipshit, you know?" You prop up a leg on the seat while you unfold the letter.
"Give it!" You move it away from his grasp and begin to read it out loud.
"Yoongi, you're honestly so hot. If you don't have a date for prom, I just want you to know that I'm free, and I promise I'll give you a good time if you take me." You cackle. "Boy, what the fuck is this? Ew."
"Shut up." He blushes before laughing along with you.
"Look at her, writing her coochie out on paper."
"She isn't."
"Oh, really? Pfft." You softly scoff. "So, are you taking her or what?"
"I don't know? Maybe, damn. What about you?"
"What about me, fool? I told you I'd think about it."
"Go with Jimin. He still doesn't have a date." He hates to say it with how much of an asshole Jimin can be, but if it meant you'd be at your senior prom then Yoongi will let it pass. He'll make sure Jimin doesn't try any slick shit.
"Ew, god no."
"Look, I'll make sure he doesn't go overboard. I promise."
"Why do you want me there so badly, Yoongi?"
"Because it's our last year in high school together and I'd really like to celebrate with you somehow." You sigh heavily.
"Fair enough. Let me sit on it."
"Better hurry and stop keeping that seat warm."
"Don't rush me." You punch his arm, causing a groan to erupt from him.
- - -
Really, you'd rather be anywhere than at prom with Park Jimin holding onto your waist the way he is for the pictures you're taking with him, Yoongi and the rest of their group and dates. After all the pictures and fake smiles, you feel him slowly slip his hand down your dress to try and get a grip on your ass, but before you could do so, you're grabbing his wrist with full pressure and making him wince.
"Don't you fucking dare or else I'll cut your dick off and throw it in a blender."
"Aish, ah, fuck! Okay, I'm kidding, let me go!" He whines lowly. You let go of his wrist after one more good squeeze, causing him to wiggle his hand to get the feeling back.
"Get me some punch, will you? My mouth is dry."
"You know, I might know something else that can help." Jimin wiggles his eyebrows as he continues to hold onto his wrist.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me."
"Or not. I'll be back." He accepts defeat by smiling from ear to ear before walking off. You sit off to the side, the heels a huge pain in the ass on top of Jimin already being a huge pain in the ass. You lean over on your knees, completely forgetting you have a short dress on, causing boys passing by to whistle and eye at the easy access.
"The fuck are you looking at? Keep it moving." Yoongi says pushing the guys forward before shooting you a look. "Y/N, really?"
"Shit sorry, I forgot. I'm not used to this." You sit up and adjust your dress before rubbing your arms at how self-conscious you suddenly [and unexpectedly] feel.
"Are you having fun at least?" He sits next to you, manspreading on the seat in the navy suit he has on.
"Mmm, sure." You slightly smile at him. "What about you? You actually took Terra, huh?"
"Yeah, it's pretty fun." He chuckles. "Don't lie, I saw you dancing a bit earlier."
"That's when the alcohol hadn't worn off yet." You snort, remembering Seokjin's older brother giving the group alcohol after all the parents were done taking their pictures of you all. Yoongi laughs along with you before he looks over and simply stares at you, hair all done, makeup done perfectly without it being too much. You in a dress.
"You look beautiful tonight, bub."
"You don't look too bad yourself, bubby." You blush before Jimin interrupts the moment with your cup of punch.
"Here, princess."
"You better not be trying anything slick, punkass." Yoongi says.
"Mm, don't worry. I haven't been able to." You kick his shin as you chug your punch, causing him to cough and choke on his own words. "I'd like to peacefully have this slow dance with you at least, damn." You swallow the last bits of punch before you're taking Jimin's hand to the floor. Yoongi watches as you two make your way to the dance floor for a slow dance, slightly regretting that he didn't just ask you to dance.
"Let's dance, babe." Terra's baby voice comes out as she pulls him up from the seat to find a spot on the dance floor. Yoongi is honestly tired of having to keep up with Terra's energy and her clingy ass, but nonetheless, he was happy you were around for prom.
He was really happy you were around for prom, even though you hated this shit more than anything.
He had you in full view ahead, and so did you. He couldn't help but direct his attention towards you and keep his eyes on you. Fuck, he has never seen anyone so beautiful until you walked through Seokjin's doors with Jimin. Look, let's get this straight. Even though you had your own way of expressing yourself, he always loved your natural beauty, your natural glow. He loved watching you on the court and how happy it made you to play ball. He remembers every accomplishment, every milestone you've reached. How you've grown tremendously as a ball player. He would never admit it to you in person, but he definitely admires how you push yourself and how you always do what you can to improve. Hell, you might just be the better player between the both of you. And when you catch him looking over, he doesn't even try and hide it. He doesn't even care that he's still holding onto Terra and slow dancing with her.
Something within you flips. You feel that shit in the pit of your stomach, at the heat of your core.
But, you brush it off and break eye contact first, even if he doesn't stop staring. This couldn't happen, no. This was your bestfriend. You weren't gonna let the things you felt get in the way of that.
Nope.
Suddenly, the song changes to something more upbeat and twerkable, Jimin taking the opportunity to spin you around and grind on you. You really need a distraction anyway, something to rid you of those god awful thoughts about your bestfriend, so you let him and you have fun with it. Everyone around you is having fun anyway, and fuck, you wouldn't have to do this ever again so fuck it.
"Let me get a dance with my bestfriend." Yoongi says to Jimin.
"Go dance with your date!"
"Shut up and switch for a second!" Yoongi says, pushing him off of you so he could get behind and dance with you.
"Yoonks, what the hell?" You laugh.
"Go with it, bub. It's fucking senior year, we're graduating soon." You go with his movements, having the time of your life with everyone around you as prom quickly comes to a close.
When you get into Jimin's car, you knock off your heels as he continues to talk nonstop about the night. Jimin was a cutie but god, you could not stand his mindset for the life of you. You were grateful he had agreed to take you to prom, but damn. Prom was done and all you wanted was some peace and quiet.
"I hope you had fun with me tonight." You give him a toothless smile before slipping your heels back on.
"I did, thank you for taking me. Really." He smiles from ear to ear before leaning over near your seat.
"Can I get just one good smooch for the night?" You look at him before you smirk and lean over near his lips.
"Sure." You whisper.
"Oh fuck, this is actually happening."
"Close your eyes, I know you don't fucking kiss with your eyes open. What are you doing?"
"Right. Sorry." He closes his eyes and puckers his lips. You lean in a little closer, feeling his breath against your lips.
Then you flick his nose.
"Ouch!"
"Peace out, Park." You throw open his door to step out and shut it behind you to quietly walk into your house.
The lights are off and your parents are already tucked into the room for the night, leaving you a note on the fridge reminding you to make sure all the doors are locked before retreating to your room. You do as you're reminded before quietly shutting your door and tossing your heels to the side. You let the pins down from your hair, ruffling it around a bit and relieving any pressure on your head. Before turning away from your dresser, you notice a letter from the one university you had been waiting on. You had been waiting to hear back from Stanford for the longest time, and quite frankly, you had been upset you hadn't heard especially when their scouts were at your game awhile ago.
You had broken down to your parents, to Yoongi, automatically assuming the worst when you heard that other people had already been accepted and scouted for Stanford. Suddenly, you found yourself working harder and harder because you felt like you were lacking in so many areas. You felt low, and like your dream was running miles and miles away from you. Faster than you could keep up.
You take the letter in your hand, but don't want to open it because you don't feel ballsy enough [surprisingly]. You call up Yoongi, not caring that he could possibly be in the middle of getting his dick wet.
"Sup?"
"Are you busy?"
"I was just about to walk into my house."
"Oh, nevermind."
"Need me to come by?"
"I got a letter from Stanford."
"Shit, I'll be there in 2 mins."
And in 2 minutes, he surely was knocking at your window. You slide it up enough for him to climb in, Yoongi still in his prom get-up as well.
"Here." You instantly hand him the letter.
"What, why me? It should be you."
"I can't, I really can't." He sighs.
"Are you sure you won't regret this?"
"No, bub. Please." You sit on the bed and fiddle with your fingers as you watch him rip the envelope open and tear out the letter. You can't even keep your eyes on him as he reads the letter and starts backing away from you.
"Shit."
"What? What?!" You stand, trying your best to keep your tone low. He covers his mouth, causing you to pinch his bicep at how dramatic he was being. "Just say it!"
"You're not going." Your heart sinks, but before you could process it, Yoongi speaks up again. "To any other college because Stanford wants you."
"I'm going to fucking kill you!" You whisper and shove him.
"Congrats, bubby. Guess we'll be together in college too." Your eyes widen.
"Y-you're going? T-to Stanford?" He smiles and nods.
"Yeah, I am."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Look, I just wanted to give you your space. That's all. I found out before you went all cry baby on me."
"Shut up." You say before laughing and jumping into his arms, throwing your legs around his torso while he swings you around. As he sets you back down onto your bedroom floor, your hands linger around his neck, gently tugging on the hair that rested there. He keeps you close, his hands resting around your waist as your chests are still touching. You honestly have no idea what takes over you— perhaps all the feelings you felt tonight at prom taking over, or feeling overjoyed from finally hearing back from Stanford, you couldn't decide. But you crash your lips against his, immediately pulling back after you realized you've just kissed your bestfriend.
You just had your first fucking kiss through accidental causes.
Well, shit.
Was it accidental or no?
Mind is going off on a tangent.
"Woah. I'm so sorry, Yoonks, I—" He doesn't allow for any space between you two, keeping your body flush against his as his lips crash onto yours again to cut you off. To be quite honest, things are moving fast and the kiss deepens quick. You follow his motions, gaining some rhythm as your tongue dances along with his in the [now] wet, sloppy kiss.
"Wait, Y/N." He pulls away as the moment intensifies. "A-are you sure you wanna keep going? To be honest, I don't know if I'll be able to hold myself back and I know you haven't exactly—" He knows it would be your first time and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. I mean, sure, he loved you. You were special to him. But he wanted to make sure your first time was also special, whether it be him or whoever else.
"Please. I want this. I wanna do this with you."
By the looks of tonight, it seems like it's meant to be him.
You press your lips back onto his with the same intensity and start to unbutton his shirt when you feel his hands hike up your dress. He gently pushes you on the bed, crawling over to you as he kicks off his shoes and finishes ripping off his shirt and tie. He slowly removes the straps of your dress down your shoulders and undoes the zipper on the side before slipping it down and leave you in your panties.
You had no bra on.
Yoongi's eyes widen when he realizes such, your cheeks heating up while you watch him stare down your body. You begin to feel incredibly self-conscious so you cover your chest with an arm. Yoongi senses your uneasiness, your confidence shooting down below zero.
"You're beautiful, bub. Don't." He says, gently tugging your arm away and letting it fall limply to the side. You simply nod and let him take the reigns because you had no idea what the fuck you were doing. So many emotions were flooding your mind— you were nervous, you were scared, you were shy, you felt lost and too innocent under Yoongi, even if he knew you like the back of his hand.
And because of that, he could pick up on it with the way your body continued to tense up. He shook off his pants, leaving on his boxers until you were ready for him. Cause fuck, he was ready for you, but he had to take this slow. He had to take care of you.
He lowers himself onto you after the two of you have climbed under the sheets, lowering his head against your neck to press light, feathery kisses along the surface. You felt the tingles shoot down your spine every time his lips made contact, causing you to softly gasp and arch your back at how sensitive you were already feeling.
"If you ever feel uncomfortable, just tell me to stop okay?" He says lowly. You nod in response, Yoongi taking it as leverage to plant a kiss on your lips before moving down to your breasts. He keeps his eyes on you, making sure you don't seem uncomfortable in the slightest bit. But you don't, and it's indicated in the way you bite your bottom lip and arch your back at the way his tongue wraps around your hardened bud. He does the same on the other breast before peppering kisses down your stomach and abdomen.
"Yoongi." You slightly gasp, shy at how unusually close he is to your lady friend.
"What's wrong? Want me to stop?" His thumbs gently caressed your thighs as his head hovered over your pelvis. You shake your head and nervously swallow before speaking once more.
"I-I'm just scared, what if you don't like—"
"Shh." He shushes you. "You're everything to me, you know that. You don't have to change just so I could enjoy you in bed. I'll take good care of you, bub. I promise."
"O-okay." He nods, placing a kiss over your clothed clit before pulling them down to get lost within your sheets. He swipes a finger down your folds, causing your breathing to hitch slightly. You watch as he slowly inserts the same digit inside of you, biting onto his bottom lip watching your facial expressions turn from uncertainty to straight pleasure. "Another." You moan.
"You sure?"
"Yes, please." He inserts another digit, curling his fingers upward as he starts to finger fuck you at a steady pace.
"Shit, you're so wet Y/N." He says lowly before lowering his mouth onto you to get a taste and tease your clit. You gasp at the overwhelming sensation, feeling the pleasure bubbling in your core and you had no idea how to deal with it. He picks up his pace while tonguing your clit and sucking at the right pressure until suddenly, you short circuit and tremble under his grip. You purse your lips together to prevent yourself from moaning too loud with your parents at the other end of the hall [jesus fucking christ], knuckles turning white as you grip the sheets tightly.
Your first orgasm came and washed over you quick.
"Did you just—" He removes his digits from inside of you, drooling at your cum accumulating all over his fingers.
"Holy fuck." You whisper as you regulate your breathing, twitching when Yoongi places a quick kiss on your pussy before coming back up to you.
"How was that?"
"So good. Wanna feel you." You whine, tugging him down towards you.
"I got you, bubby." He says, kissing your jaw, cheek, nose and lips. He reaches over into his pants on the floor, grabbing a condom out of his pocket. You furrow your brow and chuckle, confused if this was something he always did.
"You just carry that around?"
"The guys and I split on a box and carried one each for tonight. Just in case."
"Total fucking assholes." He chuckles.
"Better safe than not, right?" He rips it open with his teeth, spitting the wrapper out onto the floor before rolling it down his cock. He was perfectly thick and long, and it made you a nervous wreck all over again thinking about how this could feel. "Ready? I'll go slow." You nod. You immediately felt immense pressure when you felt Yoongi dip his body and slowly enter you. You winced, Yoongi immediately pausing until you tapped his arm to continue. And so he does, and you continue to breathe through it until he bottoms out and lets out a soft groan against your neck. "Fuck, you're so tight bub. God, you're gonna make me cum quick." He slowly pumps in and out, steadying his pace when he feels you buck your hips up to go along with his motions.
The pleasure skyrocketed; You shut your eyes, letting yourself be in this moment. Feel this moment.
He picks it up a little faster, careful not to bang your headboard against the wall. His forehead is pressed against yours, watching as you let out soft whimpers against his lips.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yoongi-Yoongi—" You whispered. "You're gonna make me—" It was becoming overwhelming, your clit rubbing against him as he steadied his pace and continued to fuck into you. He nods, pressing a kiss against your forehead.
"Yeah, that's it. Let go. It's okay." And that was enough for you to reach your second orgasm tonight. Quick, but fuck. Yoongi made you feel so good, and you wouldn't want it any other way. You shut your eyes as you hurdled over the edge, mouth open with silent, inaudible moans being released. "So fucking pretty." Yoongi says as he feels himself reaching his high with the way your walls pulsated against his cock.
God. So, so good.
He holds onto the headboard and quickly fucks into you until he's spilling his seed in the condom, muffled moans being released against the crook of your neck. It takes a moment before Yoongi raises his head, your hands running through his black hair while he presses a tender kiss against your lips. He slowly removes himself, wrapping the condom in a tissue before tossing it into your trash can. He plops next to you and welcomes you into his arms, caressing you to soothe you from your first time.
"You okay?"
"More than okay." You say, the both of you trying to savor the moment before trying to navigate where to go from here.
What now?
Third Quarter: College, Junior Year (Present)
You bent down, hands resting against your knees as you tried to catch your breath during the timeout Coach Chu had called with 5.2 seconds literally left on the clock. He laid out the play he wanted you and the team to pull off in order to gain the win over Berkeley.
It had to be executed perfectly. No flaws.
Coach Chu had been riding your ass since you were a freshman. But, over the years, you've learned how to work through his tough love and turn it into positives, bettering yourself on and off the floor. It paid off, and he saw the fire in you, finally moving you up to starting point guard right before the season ended. Some team members hated it at first, but eventually, grew to work with it as well.
The plan was to have you come down into the paint and lay up the ball or take a shot at the very last second to avoid Berkeley from getting another chance at scoring. Sometimes you hated the pressure, but you've also learned that a big part of playing ball was thriving under pressure.
Your team closes up the huddle before you and your teammates are heading back out onto the floor to try and get this win. You shake off the nerves, bouncing the ball out of bounds until you check it in with your teammate. After that— it was like a blur. Shit happened so quick, you couldn't even process it. You passed the ball and dashed over to the other side of the court while your teammate put up a screen. You rose your hand as you ran into the paint, adrenaline rushing through your veins as you awkwardly lay up the ball in the position you were in and stumble onto the ground from losing your footing. You turn your head as the buzzer went off, noticing that the ball had bounced off the rim.
You missed a fucking lay up.
How could you miss a fucking lay up?
"Fuck!" You cry as you sit up and smack the floor.
"Aye, it's all good girl! Ain't a big deal! You win some, you lose some! We still got a ways to go!" Your teammate [roommate, and closest college friend] Clarice said as she helped you up. She was right, but every loss to you was a big loss no matter what. Coach was for sure gonna drill you about this too, and you were already mentally preparing.
"Thanks." You mumble. You look out at the disappointed crowd slowly dispersing, wishing you could still catch a familiar face in the crowd.
But, Yoongi hadn't been to your game in years. So you thought. You never caught him if he ever stepped foot into your game.
Your head hung low as the familiar feeling of pain and loneliness came rushing back while you headed to the locker room. Too bad you didn't see him hiding out on the side of the bleachers with Lucas.
"Y/N, a word." Coach Chu says, leading you into his office.
Fuck, here we go.
You shut the door behind you and stand awkwardly in front of his desk, fiddling with your fingers.
"Look, I just want to say that you put on hell of a show tonight, win or lose. We still have plenty of games left, plenty of opportunities to lock in play-offs. Alright? Don't be upset."
"Thanks Coach." You give him a tiny smile.
"Are you doing okay?"
"Uh, yeah. I think so."
"What's on your mind?"
"Nothing coach, just been a hectic couple of weeks." In which, it was no lie. You crammed for test after test, project after project. You barely had any time to breathe this year.
"Well, my door is always open if you need to chat." You nod. "I'll see you at practice. Enjoy your night."
"Thanks again." You say as you exit his office and get yourself showered and into comfier clothes.
Meanwhile, Yoongi heads back to his dorm room alongside Lucas, hands dug deep into his pockets while his head hung low.
"You ever gonna talk to her?"
"I don't know." He sighs. "Pretty sure I fucked up any chance of that."
"Look, dude. You haven't really been the same since you and Y/N fell out." Yoongi stays silent as they slowly climb the steps up to their room. "Why are you just gonna leave it like this? It's been so long already. Doesn't it bother you?"
"Positive she doesn't want me around." Lucas shakes his head.
"You haven't even tried. You just gave up and that shit is cold, to be honest. I know Y/N always held it down for you, I would have expected you to do the same." The words cut through Yoongi so deep, he doesn't even know how to respond and leaves it at that.
As you heavily dragged your body back to the dorms and took your sweet ol' time, your mind began to wander back to Yoongi as well. After he had taken your virginity that night, things took a turn for the worst.
He treated you differently, created this distance that allowed you to grow farther and farther apart from each other until he was no longer in your grasp and vice versa.
You went from Yoongi being a part of your every day to nothing. And fuck, did it hurt you. You cried and cried, until you were so tired of crying. You had to pick yourself up and keep it moving no matter what. Life waits for nobody.
You reminisce on those days of debating over who could really be considered the greatest. Although, you did pay your respects to the bigs, the greats— Kobe, Magic, MJ, Lebron— you paid respect where it was rightfully due. However, Derrick Rose at his prime? Rajon Rondo? Chris Paul?
Hell, even Baron Davis, Monte Ellis. Rookie Steph Curry? Shiiit. They were it for you, and Yoongi used to dog your ass on how unrealistic you were being.
That was all gone.
He must be having a ball watching Steph climb up those charts now, though. You wonder what he would say to you.
The days of going to basketball games, to each other's basketball games, to ordering hella pizza and creating chaos in either house over the dunk contest during the NBA All Star Week or yelling all around the living room and jumping on couches during the NBA playoff season and championship games— All gone.
If you knew this would drastically change you and Yoongi, you would have never let that night happen. You continued to put on your brave face, your thick, tough skin even though deep down, it took everything in you to suppress the hurt, betrayal and confusion. Even after all these years.
He meant everything to you. Did you not to him? You could never understand until this day. How could he dispose of you so, so quickly?
You see him on campus and quickly break any eye contact, or run the opposite way. You were tired of doing this even though you felt like you needed closure. Some explanation. You deserved it. But you weren't gonna initiate that. Even if Yoongi did, you don't even know if things could ever go back to the way it was. He promised he would never hurt you, but he has. He still is hurting you. The wounds— it cut deep. Deeper than he could ever imagine.
"Hello?" You smile, hearing your dad on the other line.
"Hey dad."
"Hey baby! How was your game? I'm sorry I couldn't catch it tonight, work kept me behind." You sigh.
"Eh, it's probably good you didn't. Didn't turn out so well." He picks up on how your voice cracks ever so slightly, enough to indicate that you were trying your hardest not to break down about your performance. "I missed the winning shot."
"Oh sweetheart, you'll get 'em next time. You always do. You still have a couple of games left don't you?"
"Yeah, but it doesn't change the fact that I played shitty as hell tonight."
"There's always room for improvement, only way to go is up from here right?" He says softly, making you smile. "You'll get 'em next time, I have no doubt. You always know how to better yourself even when I think you've already reached your highest potential."
"Thanks Dad. You always were my number one fan."
"I still am." He chuckles. "How's everything else? School?"
"Fine." He always has to stop himself from asking about Yoongi, even to ask if there's been the slightest change to your relationship.
"You sure?"
"Course." You lie.
"Alright, well you know me and your mom are here for you if you need anything."
"I know."
"I'll let you go and get some rest, alright? Don't be so hard on yourself."
"Mmm, I'll try." You chuckle. "I love you."
"Love you too. And hey, baby?"
"Yeah?"
"Always remember that you deserve everything good in this world. If someone can't handle you at your worse, they sure as hell don't deserve you at your best."
"Thank you." You smile as if your dad can see you through the phone before hanging up and unlocking your dorm door.
"Sigma Nu party going on tonight, wanna come and slide through?" Clarice asks as she watches you toss your duffle aside.
"I'm tired, not in the mood."
"So aren't I, but I think we both need it. Come on girl, just for a little." You sigh. Clarice had also been there by your side since you both were freshmen recruits. One day, she came into the room and found you a crying mess, causing her to wrap her arms around you and craddle you until you calmed down. You had spilled the beans about Min Yoongi, especially when he quickly became the talk of the campus as a ladies man and one of the best freshmen recruits Stanford has ever seen. You hated it, but a part of you still found yourself happy that he was getting the recognition he deserved as a ball player.
He wasn't the tallest, or the biggest, but boy had heart and played every game like it was his last. You had been his number one fan, and even though you hated him, that fact would never change.
Anyways, without Clarice, you weren't sure where you'd be. Definitely not here because you'd be too busy running away from your past and all the issues that came with it.
Yeah, yeah. Go ahead and say it. You would be stupid enough to not go to your first choice just because of a stupid boy.
"Fine, fine. I'm leaving as soon as someone wants to start acting up and getting all crazy though."
"Deal." She chuckles. You've learned how to dress up a little more— and by a little we mean baggy sweats, a crop tight fitting tee and chapstick. No way in hell you'd get dolled up for a party. Out of the years you've already been here, you probably went to two parties. One being the party Coach Chu threw at his house for a record-breaking season. The other was a legit party that you stepped foot in for all of 2 seconds before you figured it was time to head home, especially after seeing Yoongi hugged up with some chick and disgustingly tonguing her down while groping her ass.
Shit, you were never gonna get used to it.
The frat house is fucking packed and wreaks of weed even down the corner. You and Clarice push your way through, greeting people who were acknowledging your presence and waving at your other teammates that were also present.
"More basketball babes have arrived, let's go!" One of the frat guys cheers as you and Clarice make your way to the kitchen where all the alcohol is laid out.
"One shot?" She asks as she already has her hand wrapped around the Svedka handle.
"One and done." You tell her. You shouldn't have let her pour the shot though because now, you're stuck with nasty ass vodka near the halfway mark of the cup. "Clarice, what the fuck is this?"
"It's called savoring our one."
"You're fucked up." You joked as you tap your cup against hers and take the shot in three chugs. "Really fucked up." You wince.
"Come, lets go see what the other girls are up to and hang out for a bit." You follow her lead to the corner of the living room, chatting it up with your team before dancing around in the little corner you all occupied— keeping as far away as possible from sloppy and messy dudes.
You turned to eye the crowd at some point, catching Yoongi coming down the stairs, a female following from behind holding his hand. Then, they disappear to the outside of the house. You swallow the lump in your throat, the room feeling hotter than it already was.
Why he still had this affect on you, you had no idea.
Clarice and your teammates are too busy cracking jokes that they don't realize you've slipped away to get some air. You're finding that the crowd has come bigger in the short amount of time you've been here and navigating through it has become difficult. You're having to bob, weave and shove your way out, letting out a sigh the closer you get to the front of the house. You're also really glad you've been able to steer clear from—
"Shit, my bad." You unintentionally bump into someone making your way to the front from the side of the house due to you keeping your head low.
"Y/N?" You whip your head around to see Yoongi raising a brow, dropping his arm from the same chick's shoulders.
"Hi." You give him a fake, tight-lipped smile and rush your way to the front of the house. Thank god you finally make it because you were starting to feel claustrophobic, even being outside. However, you weren't prepared for Yoongi to come after you and grab your wrist the way he did.
"Wait, I didn't expect you to be here." Out of defense, you quickly snatch your wrist away from his grip and furrow your brows at him.
"Yeah, and now I'm leaving."
"Why, hang out for a bit—"
"And what, Yoongi? Watch you be the life of the party? Watch you walk around all fine and dandy like shit never happened between us?" You feel the tears welling up on your bottom lids, but you promised yourself you would never cry over him again. You refuse to. He had already taken up so much of you that you refuse to give him any more.
"Is that what you really think?" He says, the hurt apparent in his expression. To be frank, no. Yoongi really, really never meant to hurt you. And just like he had mentioned before, he would never forgive himself if he ever hurt you. He hasn't forgiven himself. He hasn't forgiven himself for how he let you slip out of his grasp when it was his own fault for pushing aside his feelings for you. He thought the world of you, the only woman who kept it real with him and stuck by him through the highest of highs, lowest of lows. There was no one as special as you, no one who could ever be as special as you, no matter how many times he tried to sink his dick into other females.
No one was real like you.
But, he was also conflicted because of that. He felt like he couldn't give you the love you rightfully deserved, he didn't think he could love you properly. He had so much to learn and he didn't wanna hurt you in the process. It sounds so fucking stupid [because it is] that he thought distancing himself was better than just being honest. He was a dumbass high schooler, he didn't know any better. But, he never meant to make you feel special for one night, then run from it. You were always special to him. You had always been. You always will be. And these past years hurt like a bitch, but he coudn't find the words to explain. Eventually, he just believed he would do less damage if you both remained distant this way.
Although, he longed for you. He really needed you just as you needed him. He always has, always will.
So when the two of you bump into each other tonight, he felt like maybe, it was a sign. Maybe it was time to stop being childish.
God, he missed your face.
God, he was a fucking asshole.
"No, I'm not doing this shit." You shake your head. "Just— continue to stay away from me, okay? I'm better off without you." The words sting you, but it doesn't sting you as much as it stings Yoongi. You glare at him once more before you turn on your heel and begin walking down the street to head back to your dorm.
"Y/N! Wait up!" Clarice calls for you, eyeing Yoongi as she passes him to catch up with you down the street. "Hey, hey. You okay?" She swings her arm around you when she catches you silently crying to yourself. "What did he do, Y/N?"
"He fucking exists, that's what." You groan. "Ugh, fuck! I'm not supposed to be crying over his dumbass, I'm better than this Clarice— Why the fuck am I crying over it?" You break down, crouching down to your knees, causing Clarice to hover over you and pull you into a hug.
"Maybe you just need to let it out and stop forcing yourself to not feel anything."
"I hate him, I hate him, I hate him." You bawled into your arms. "I hate him so much." She caressed your back. "But he still finds a way to mean so much to me."
"I think it's time for you two to talk."
"I can't. It's just better this way."
"Are you sure? Because look at you, Y/N. You're a mess, and this hasn't even been the first time you broke down about him. As much as you want to believe that you're fine without him, you're not. He was your bestfriend and I think you need him more than you even know yourself."
"He's doing fine without me."
"You don't know that, baby. Dudes are annoying as fuck because they can literally go on about their day and mask that shit well. If he's ready, let him explain. Hear him out. You both may be misunderstanding the entire situation." It takes you a good minute before you can finally gather yourself and make it back to your dorm room with Clarice.
She was right.
But you were so angry more than anything. You were angry and you weren't sure how you could get past it.
He left your side.
And so the next day, you go about your day in class, staying quieter than usual during practice. For the most part, Coach Chu was always on your ass because of how vocal you were and how much you caught an attitude when things didn’t go the way you'd like it to. So, to see you this quiet, almost sullen even, concerns him. But, he already pressed you once and he wasn't gonna do it again to avoid irritating you any further.
You run the usual conditioning drills, practicing play by play before a final scrimmage game for the night. You push yourself hard like you always do, almost coming out of practice dry heaving from how tired you are. It was your bad habit though, you wouldn't quit until you got it right. Until you felt right. And unfortunately, it's another one of those nights where you feel unsatisfied with your performance. So, you take it upon yourself to continue practicing in the empty gym that was set to close within the next hour. You're tired out of your mind, and you know this is probably a bad idea, but you can't shake off the feeling of dissatisfaction. To you, that was the next worst thing. Right behind Yoongi.
You begin to work on your three pointers, lay ups and shots out of range before you start to play a scrimmage game with yourself.
"I'll play you." You suddenly hear, the sweat beads dripping down your forehead at this point. You watch Yoongi as he drops his water bottle off at the side of the court before walking over to you.
"Go away."
"Afraid you'll lose?"
"No, I just don't wanna play your ass." You shot up the ball, only for it to bounce off the backboard and land in Yoongi's hand.
"Ball up. Let's play till 10."
"Why the hell do you wanna play me, Yoongi? Don't you have a random chick to bone?"
"I'm clearly standing right in front of you aren't I? Quit fucking talking and play." He aggressively passes you the ball to check it in, you following suit, making the ball damn near bounce off of his chest with how hard you pass it back. He knew exactly how to rile you up.
You get into the zone quickly, trying to find some kind of redemption for the way you had been feeling lately. Redemption, validation, way to take the edge off— anything, really. It was only until the first person scored to 10, but Yoongi was putting up one hell of a fight, jet black hair parted down the middle and matted to his forehead from the sweat building up. You take the lead, sitting at 8 while Yoongi sat at a sad 6 points.
"Ball." You call out as you scored a layup, ramming yourself against the padded wall with the force you had put up.
"That's 10."
"Ball, Yoongi." You huffed and puffed.
"Stop, don't overwork yourself. You just got—"
"Suddenly you care? Stop being a pussy and pass me the goddamn ball." He furrows his brows as he passes you the ball, crouching down to meet you at eye level to try and guard you. You run towards the right of the court, pulling a pump fake before you pivot to get away from Yoongi's guard. You pivot hard and drive it up to the basket, only to fall on the wrong footing and twist your ankle on the way down. "Ouch, fuck!"
"Shit, Y/N!" Yoongi comes to your side, hand supporting your back as the other is on your ankle.
"I'm fine, leave me—"
"Stop being so fucking stubborn and let me help you." He says angrily. You don't say anything else while you fix your position on the floor. "Can you wiggle it at least?"
"Y-yeah." You wince as you wiggle your foot and roll it around a couple of times. Phew, at least this shit wasn't gone for good. But Coach Chu still wouldn't be happy to hear you sprained your ankle releasing your anger on Yoongi during a dumb game. Yoongi helps you stand, arm around your waist as he throws your arm around his neck and holds you steady by the wrist.
"Try walking on it."
"I can, but it hurts a little." Yoongi sighs.
"You just sprained it. Let's go get you some ice or something at the nursing center before going back to your dorm." You silently nod as you hang onto Yoongi for extra support, careful not to make the situation any worse than it already is. He has you sit on the chair within the nursing center, the nurse coming over to wrap your ankle nicely before giving you crutches and some instant hot compress to pop onto it. She orders for security to drive you two over to the dorm building in their go-cart so that you wouldn't have to do much walking on your foot while you focused on healing.
Yoongi doesn't leave your side, even after you've walked into your dark, empty dorm room, not really knowing where Clarice is at right now [possibly library]. He shuts your door and sits you on the edge of your bed, setting your crutches near your bed side and your instant hot compress.
"You need anything else?" Your head hangs low as you slightly chuckle and shake your head.
"Why are you doing this?" You ask him lowly before looking back up at him, tears clouding your vision. "Hm? Why, Yoongi?"
"You're hurt, why wouldn't I—"
"Hmm." You hum. "I'm hurt? So where the fuck were you after prom night? When I was hurt then, where the fuck have you been?" You began to cry.
"Y/N." His tongue swipes over his lips before he sighs. "I'm sorry." He says, close to a whisper.
"Are you? Because I don't think you really understand how bad you hurt me." You aggressively wipe away your tears while continuing to look at him, his body language soft and full of regret. "You didn't care about me."
"How could you say that? I cared—" He sighs as his head drops for a second. "I care about you more than you know."
"If you did then why the fuck was it so easy for you to drop me the way you did?!" You yelled. "You just don't do that to the people you care about, especially if it’s your bestfriend."
"Look, you're right. I have no excuse for the way I acted, and if I could turn back time to re-do it, I would. But I can't, and the only thing I can do is apologize and do my best to make it up to you." His bottom lip trembles as he steps closer to you, a small frown forming at the corners of his mouth.
"Yoongi." You cried. "I did everything for you, I stuck by you through everything, even during the times you didn't deserve that shit from me. But I stayed! I stood by you because you meant everything to me and god—" You groaned. "I needed you. I needed you and you weren't there! I fucking hate you for doing this shit to me but part of me will always have love for you no matter how fucked up the situation is. I will always drop everything for you. I will always care about you, and it's so unfair." It broke Yoongi's heart and he didn't know what to say, but he wraps his arms around you anyway, keeping you in a tight hug against his chest. He's surprised that you let him, even more surprised at how he feels your body soften under his touch.
"Fuck, I'm so, so sorry bub." He says lowly as he presses a kiss on top of your head. "I'm so sorry."
"Please don't ever go again." You cry against his chest.
"No, I'm not. I'm gonna be right here." He says hugging you tighter. "You're the only one who's ever understood me, who's ever kept it real with me. I don't deserve you, but I know damn sure I'll work hard to make up for letting you go in the first place." He places another kiss on top of your head. "I'm right here. Not going anywhere. I'm so sorry."
- - -
5.
4.
3.
2.
1.
"THE STANFORD BOYS TAKE THE CHAMPIONSHIP!" The commentator screams into his mic, Yoongi running a lap around the court before he's cheering loudly with his teammates and joining the group hug. You run down the bleachers, dashing straight into Yoongi's arms while he swings you around.
"That's what I'm fucking talking about!" You squeal and giggle as Yoongi places you back down and plants multiple kisses around your face, hands resting on the small of your back.
"Let's get out of here." He whispers in your ear.
"I'll wait at your car, bighead." You wink, causing him to smile that gummy smile of his that you adore more than life itself.
There's obviously a huge party going on tonight to celebrate this huge achievement, but Yoongi says he doesn't wanna join for once. He's happy, yeah. But the way he wants to celebrate is in peace. After so long, he feels like he can finally say he's content with where his life is at and where it's going. He drives over to the nearest beach, backing into a space so the both of you could sit in the back and try catching all the shooting stars up above. Yoongi leans against the side of the trunk, allowing you to lay your head on his lap while you curled up beside him listening to the waves slowly crash against the sand.
"Saw one." He says, looking up at the sky.
"You're a punk, no you didn't."
"What?" He laughs. "How are you about to say that? I caught it with my own two eyes."
"Oop! I saw one!"
"Now that's a lie. I was looking up too."
"Shut up." You laugh, causing Yoongi to tickle you along the sides before he stops and plants a kiss on your lips. It's silent for a minute while the two of you take in the night view— The sky and ocean coming together as one, forming a view that seemed endless.
"Hey."
"Hm?" You hum as Yoongi's fingers gently brush through your hair.
"You know I love you right?"
"Ew with the sappy shit, Min Yoongi." He laughs.
"Seriously."
"I know." You smile up at him. "I love you too."
"Come here." He says softly, tugging you upwards. You sit up, allowing Yoongi to press his lips against yours. He pulls you in by your shirt, having you straddle his lap while he grips onto your hips and immediately grinds against you. You let out a small moan feeling how quickly he hardened, his cock hitting you in the right places as you continue to grind on him. "Fuck, wanna feel you babygirl."
"Here?"
"Yeah." He chuckles and bites onto his bottom lip.
"What, all of a sudden you're scared?"
"Fuck off." You fire back, releasing his hardened member from its confines as you stroke him gently. He tilts his head back in pleasure before tugging your shorts and panties to the side, enough for him to cop a feel of how wet you are.
"Baby's all wet."
"What're you gonna do about it?" You whisper against his lips, biting onto his bottom lip and pulling back slightly. He hisses at the sensation before he moves your hand from his cock and takes control. He pushes you upward, positioning you enough to line up with your entrance.
"Take this shit off."
"Yoongi, we're in public."
"So, you're all talk and no play."
"I hate you."
"Nobody's here." He groans. "Just take off your shorts, pleeease." He begs as he slowly strokes himself. You toss aside your shorts, Yoongi immediately hooking his finger at the bottom of your panties and tugging it aside in order to push himself into you. He does enough before he lets you do the rest of the work and sink down on his length, a gasp leaving your throat as you take all of him in. He grips your hips tightly, setting the pace as he groans into your neck, your fingers tangled in his hair resting at the nape of his neck.
"Shit, babe." You moan as you tilt your head back.
"Fuck, you always ride me so well." He presses light kisses against your neck before he's nipping at the surface.
"Godddd why do you feel so good?" You whimper.
"You like how I feel inside of you?" You nod. "Yeah? Like how my cock fills you up?"
"Never gonna get tired of it." You moan, Yoongi making you pick up the pace aggressively. Besides the waves crashing, the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin fills the car, along with your soft moans and Yoongi's groans. Your clit is constantly rubbing against him, causing the pleasure to build so quickly it becomes overwhelming. You try to hold off as much as you can but—
"My pretty baby. All I fucking need." He almost growls, the words enough to send you over the edge. You let out a loud moan, not even caring for the houses nearby as your orgasm hits hard and ripples throughout your body, sending aftershocks. Yoongi continues to have you ride him fast and hard, the overwhelming sensation causing a hint of pain to mix with more pleasure until you feel him feel you up. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He groans as his nails dig into your skin, giving two good thrusts upwards into you to help ride out his high. You both sit in the position for a minute, trying to come back down from your highs. Yoongi gives you a delicate peck on the lips, smiling into the kiss before he pulls away. "Swear you're all I need."
"See, I don't know if I could say the same." He smacks your ass as you hike up and off of him to put on your shorts.
"Take it back."
"I'm kidding." You blush.
"My ride or die. Are you with me?"
"Always have been. Are you?"
"You know I am."
"Good. You know it takes two." He smiles before pulling you into another hug and pressing a kiss against your temple.
#bts#bts fanfiction#yoongi fanfiction#min yoongi fanfiction#myg#yoongi one shot#min yoongi one shot#myg one shot#suga one shot#suga#bts suga#yoongi#min yoongi#yoongs#yoongi x reader#min yoongi x reader#writing#yoongi smut#yoongi angst#yoongi fluff#xpeachesncream#bts smut#bts angst#bts fluff#min yoongi angst#min yoongi fluff#min yoongi smut#myg angst#myg fluff#myg smut
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smile, once in a while
frank goes to the dentist.
2k. also on ao3.
He can already smell the sterile strangeness of the place – the mix of disinfectant with a wafting of bone dust. Sometimes that industrial lime and bleach smell is particularly overpowering; on those days, he can still make out what’s underneath. The rusting iron, the sharpness of gunpowder smoke.
Other days, he’s been the one to bring all that with him.
The bell jingles over the door as Frank steps into the cramped little waiting room. There’s a single stuffed armchair in one corner, with a pile of old magazines on a side table. The chair is new; the one it replaced had had a dark stain that refused to come out.
Hardly anyone sits there, but it does help keep up the appearance of an ordinary office; most of the clients who come here are on a walk-in, strictly need-to-know basis only. Not the type of people who like to be kept waiting. Or left to bleed out while classical music plays in the background.
“Micro Dental,” comes a bored voice from behind the computer. “How can I help you today?”
Frank approaches the glass. It’s bulletproof, for obvious reasons. “Hey, kid.”
“Oh,” says Amy, sounding only slightly less bored. “It’s you.” She smacks her gum and goes back to her magazine. “What chewed and spat you out this time?”
“I’m just here for a cleaning,” says Frank.
Amy stops mid-flip. “You’re here for a what?” She gives him more than a cursory glance this time. “Huh,” she says, after a moment. “So that’s what your face is supposed to look like, when it’s not been beaten to a pulp. Still pretty rough, if you ask me.”
“Didn’t ask,” says Frank.
Amy blows out a small bubble. Even the sound of its pop has a bit of an attitude.
“I have an appointment.” Frank gestures at the shelves behind her, yellow folders stacked ceiling-high.
He’s lost count of the times he’s told Lieberman to get a better filing system. Take out his own insurance policy, so to speak, considering his clientele. But Lieberman had argued that that was precisely why guys like them trusted guys like him – no digital footprint. No record that’s easily traced nor so difficult to get rid of once it’s been created, and Frank has to admit that he’s got a point there.
Amy lets out a long-suffering sigh. She clicks some things on the computer, then goes to fetch his most recent file. CASTIGLIONE, PETE is handwritten on the side label, the i’s dotted with little bubbly o’s. Lisa had liked her i’s like that too. Frank’s chest constricts, like it always does with any small reminder of his past. Of the family he’s just spent the last year avenging.
He still hasn’t been able to sleep through the night, but the nightmares are fewer, and that’s a start.
“Looks like you have an appointment,” says Amy, as if he hadn’t been the one who just told her. “I didn’t know we actually made those, but okay. Routine cleaning with Lieberman. Didn’t know he really did those, either.”
“Is, uh.” Frank clears his throat. “Is Karen in today too?”
“We don’t have you scheduled for x-rays. Just the cleaning.” Amy rifles through a few more pages, then gives him a flat look. “Besides, you had them done last time. Like, as in three weeks ago last time.”
“Think you could squeeze me in?” asks Frank.
Amy crosses her arms, looking a little too smug. “Why?” she wants to know. “Did you break something again?”
“Might have a cavity,” he tells her. Then, utterly deadpan, “This a dentist’s office, yeah?”
Amy rolls her eyes so hard he’s almost surprised she doesn’t half-fall out of her chair. She buzzes him through and promptly returns to her game of Solitaire.
…
Karen’s not in the room yet when he gets there. He settles himself into the exam chair and scans his surroundings, out of habit.
The walls are a plain, barren white, and every inch of space is occupied with some kind of medical equipment. Various x-ray machines, a CT scanner. He’s probably been put through them all, at some point or another. He hadn’t exactly been conscious enough to remember it each time.
Still, there’s a warm kind of anticipation slipping into his chest as he sits there. A warmth that has nothing to do with the room itself, and everything to do with—
“Frank.” There’s a smile in her voice before he’s even turned to look at her.
“Hey, Karen.”
Karen closes the door and walks over, setting his file down on a table. She’s dressed in wine-colored scrubs, and her hair is up in a high ponytail. It bounces with each movement, catching the fluorescent white light.
She surveys him with a slyly accusatory expression. “You look…good.”
“You do too,” he says, without really thinking it over. She always does.
Her smile turns into one of amusement. He realizes what she must’ve meant – that he looks good as in uninjured to her, which is certainly a first. Frank scratches his nape, ignores the steady rise of a flush there.
“Actually,” he says, “think I might have a cavity. Been having some pain back there. It’s keeping me up, you know, that kind of thing.”
Karen makes a commiserating sound. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“A cavity, huh,” she says, somewhat teasing. “How very…normal of you.”
He crooks a grin at her. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“It’s actually kind of nice,” she says, and swings an arm of the x-ray machine to the side he’s just pointed to. “Okay, let’s take a look.”
She adjusts the angle a little, and he thinks idly about how nice she smells. Like a garden on a breezy spring day. A garden that comes with her own set of thorns, of course: she’s pulled a gun on him more than once, and she’s got this wicked-sharp way of seeing right through his bullshit. But she’s still the last thing Frank ever thought he would find in this place. In this line of work. Dealing with his kind of people.
You’re different, she’s told him. You’re not like the others.
Sometimes he’s not so sure. But the fact that she believes it does mean something to him. And maybe that is what makes all the difference.
She has him bite down on some film for a moment. As soon as he’s got his jaw clenched shut, she says to him, lightly, “It is really good to see you like this, you know.” Unable to speak, Frank lifts his gaze, locking into place with hers. The seconds seem to slow and soften, into something warm.
Then she’s smiling as she looks away, leaning past him to press on a button. A whirring click sounds from the machine.
Karen removes the film and takes it into a side room, returning with the x-ray a few minutes later. She gives it a once-over, holding it up under the light.
“David will take a look at it too, but nothing’s jumping out at me. Then again,” she muses, “he’s gotten so used to putting people’s teeth back in, I’m not sure he remembers what to do when they aren’t knocked out already.”
Frank has to laugh at that. “Kid might’ve said something to that effect, too.”
Karen slides the x-ray into his file, where it becomes one of so many others – and not all of his jaw, though he’s broken that before, too.
“How’s the hand?” she asks after a moment, as though she’s read his mind.
He flexes his fingers, forming a fist before relaxing them back over his knee. “Good as it’s going to get, considering how many times I’ve fucked it up.”
“This would make five, I think,” she says casually.
“Sounds about right. Anyway, uh – thanks, again. For that,” he says gruffly. “And – for everything.”
She shakes her head. “You don’t have to thank me for anything, Frank.”
“I do,” Frank disagrees quietly.
Karen moves the machine arm back into place, then pauses next to the exam chair. She fiddles with a crack in the leather. “I was, um. I was reading the news the other day.”
“Yeah?” His voice rasps a little. “Anything good?”
“Something that happened at the carousel. You know, the one in Central Park?” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, still carefully averting her gaze. “Same day you broke your hand.”
“That right.” Frank forces a swallow, his mouth slightly dry. You should see the other guy, he wants to say but doesn’t.
“I just—” Karen presses her lips together in thought. Then she looks him in the eye and says, “I just need to know that you’re okay.”
His brow creases down the middle. “That I’m—?”
“Aside from the, um. Obvious things. The physical things, I mean.” She indicates his hand, then slides her gaze to the cut on his face that she’d helped him stitch up three weeks ago too.
She should definitely see the other guy.
“I worry about you, Frank. I worry when I haven’t seen you, and I worry when I do.” She offers him a faint, rueful smile. “You always say you have a thick skull, but I’m the one who found that old bullet hole in it, remember? Still have the x-ray in one of those folders to prove it.”
Frank ducks his head with a laugh. “Hard to forget.”
“And I know that’s where your family…” She trails off, biting her lip. Then she seems to steel herself, and the look that she gives him is both determined and breathtakingly earnest. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m here for you, whatever you need. So, are you? Okay?”
It’s not until Frank says the words aloud that he finds he might actually believe them. “I will be,” he tells her. “I will be.”
She’s looking at him, expression all soft. He thinks he never wants her to stop looking at him like that. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He nods. “That was, ah – the last. One, I mean. That was it.” It’s the first time he’s said that aloud too. It settles like a weight in him, and it’s a weight that he’ll never not carry. But he’s also breathing easier than he has in a long, long time.
“Last one,” Karen echoes. There’s a soft kind of hope surrounding the way that she says it, a new kind of meaning to the words that makes the inside of Frank’s chest feel suddenly, unbearably light. “That’s…really good to hear, Frank.”
He shifts his gaze sideways, mouth working silently before finding his voice again, low in his throat. An apology in there, somewhere, too. “Would’ve come sooner, but. I needed to clear my head for a while. After.” To know he can be ready for – this. For everything.
For living, all over again.
“Anyway, I – couldn’t have done it without you.” Frank bows his head. “Need you to know that.”
A moment passes, like a breath held between them. He looks down at her hand, still resting next to his arm. Almost close enough to touch.
“So…” Her tone is too careful to pass off as convincingly nonchalant. “I take it we won’t be seeing you around here as often.”
He swings a glance at her, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Might have to work my way to another, uh. Cavity.”
Karen hums out a small laugh. “So you say.”
“Been thinking I could put sugar in my coffee, to start.” Frank swallows, then meets her gaze head-on. “I’ve also been thinking I’d – I’d really like if you joined me, sometime.”
Shit. He’s never been good at this. But Karen’s eyes are looking bright and so blue, and so very impossible to look away from. “I’d really like that, too.”
Frank can’t help it – the smile he gives her. A little bit shy, more than a little bit crooked. And now that he’s started, he can’t seem to stop with the smiling, either.
“Should we, um.” She’s flushed a rosy pink, but manages to put on a halfway serious expression. “Before you go for your cleaning, maybe we should check the other side too. For…”
“Cavities,” Frank supplies.
“Yeah.” Karen nods. “You know – just in case.”
“Sure,” says Frank, equally somber. “Think that’d be a good idea.”
…
“Well, your teeth are in excellent shape,” Lieberman tells him later.
With his head lamp on, and his eyes bugged out behind those thick frames, Lieberman looks not unlike a mad scientist. He examines the inside of Frank’s mouth one more time, then sits back in his chair, looking perplexed.
“Sorry, Frank.” He sounds at a loss, consulting all the x-rays again. “I’m not seeing a single cavity in there.”
“No cavity?” Frank’s tone is perfectly even. “Huh. Well how ’bout that.”
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Waiting Rooms
- - (long post warning) This is a list of waiting room ideas/inspiration for you! It includes waiting room examples and portal examples- a “portal” being the doorway from your waiting room to your DR. Know that a waiting room isn’t necessary! It’s a place where you can take a breath before entering your Desired Reality, where you can edit scripts or just take a breather for a moment.
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1) Childhood Bedroom
This waiting room is something more nostalgic, familiar. This is a bedroom from your past. Having spent the more carefree years here, you feel the tension bleed out of your shoulders, dissipating, and then gone.
You can still recognize the battered old notebooks on your desk, those glittery lisa frank gel pens. You crack a smile. This table is a bit too short, the chair definitely so, but you sit anyways. You open one of the little notebooks so find one of your scripts, holding every detail you wished to remember. If you don’t script, it simply holds a few recollections and details from your DR. This brings a true smile to your face.
This Waiting Room feels like a warm hug. It feels like sneaking out of bed to listen to the TV from the hallway, like drinking warmed milk when you can’t sleep, like holding stuffed toys close to your heart. You curl your toes into the floor and stare up at your popcorn ceiling.
From here, all you need to do to get home is select your DR from the pile of old notebooks before you, then step out your door. Don’t worry; on the other side is a portal to your Desired Reality, and you are going home.
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2) Office
The office is a bit dim. The curtains are half-pulled, allowing the hazy light of early morning to filter through. It illuminates the dust flying through the air. The desk is sturdy, the chair comfortable, and the typewriter old.
In the drawer at your desk, there is a pile of folders. Take them out, examine them. Inside is the uniform lettering of your script, as if typed from this same typewriter. Go ahead and read them, decide where you're shifting to tonight. Again, if you don’t script, these are simply recollections and details about your Desired Reality.
Once you have picked the reality you wish to shift to, put the files back where you found them and walk to your window. Take the curtains and gently close them. When you open them again, you will find a portal to your Desired Reality in place of the glass. Step through, now. Go home. You can do this.
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3) Old Library
Your waiting room is an old library, as vast or as cozy as you’d like. The shelves are lined with every story you could possibly imagine, every script you’ve written and every notebook you’ve yet to fill. Take one from the shelf, relax in the plush chair by the window. There’s a table next to it holding- is that a quill and inkwell? Edit your script to your liking. When you are ready, dump the remaining ink onto the floor. It will expand into a portal leading to your Desired Reality. When you are ready, simply step through. You are entirely capable of doing this, and you will go home.
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4) Heavenly Cloud
This Waiting Room is in a sky-like realm, with clouds in place of dirt and no earth in sight. Perhaps there are walls with huge, gaping entrances; beds of the softest satin; smooth stairs that lead up and down and nowhere at all. Everything is tinted your favorite color. You can see just fine, as if the sun is shining all around you, but there is no sun in sight. You may bask in this soft glow, feeling the cotton softness of the cloud beneath your feet. Can you taste that faint petrichor at the back of your throat? Hear the sprinkling of rain somewhere in the distance?
Here, you are weightless- jump from cloud to cloud as much as you’d like, and know you will never be lost. As you leap across this strange sky, you find that the clouds you’d thought were empty are actually holding sparkling portals in their centers. You can see your Desired Reality in them. Jump through when you’re ready to go home. It will be waiting for you.
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5) Greenhouse Maze
The Greenhouse is a labyrinth you never seem to lose yourself in. There’s ivy crawling up the wrought-iron framing, spanning across the fogged glass. The flowers here are soft to the touch, and their aroma danced around you, calming. You can hear your footsteps as you walk, and you know that you are safe.
Every corridor holds a different marble bust or statue. As you draw nearer to them, you realize that they are people and memories from your Desired Reality. Perhaps they are your Desired Self. Examine these marble carvings, touch the stone on which they rest. There, you’ll find inscriptions and secret openings leading to passageways underneath them. These each lead to their own Reality- you decide where you’ll go tonight. You hold all the power you need. Go home, now.
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6) Mythical Forest
This place drives away all worry, replacing fear with a content serenity. The sky is dark, but the mushrooms and bugs all glow in the dark, illuminating your way. There’s bioluminescent algae in the ponds, flowers that look like fire lining your path, and rainbow caterpillars that sparkle like disco balls.
As you walk along these old stones, you pass different portals in the form of fallen trees, hollowed out roots, and dark caves. Upon taking a closer look, you find scrolls holding the information you need nearby each portal, carved titles and inscriptions labelling where each one leads. Take your time deciding where you’d like to go, edit your script how you’d like, then go home. I believe in you.
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Gratitude! 🥀
I do hope that you all enjoyed this list of Waiting Room inspiration. I might make a post about my own waiting room later on, but as of right now I’m a bit tired from making this great long post. Happy shifting, my loves!
A quick note: thank you so much for liking and reblogging, if you do that! Be sure to send gratitude to the universe, and to yourself. Know that you are powerful! You are perfectly capable for achieving all that you wish to. I believe in you!
#if you're reading these tags#go drink some water#go do it now#i know you aren't hydrated enough#go get ur sips#or else#>:(#reality shifting#scripting#waiting rooms#desired reality#waiting room#wr#dr#desired realities#waiting room inspiration#long post
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I would like to know when you started drawing and where your passion for fanart started 😊
Oh FUCK dude i did not see this i’m so fucking sorry this is so late 😭 damn you, tumblr, for not fucking notifying me!! Anyway buckle up this is gonna be much longer than you asked for <3
Honestly ive kinda been drawing all my life! I hope that doesnt sound dumb cuz obviously almost everyone drew pictures when they were kids, but i know that it’s been a consistent hobby for me since i was little. By the time i was in 3rd grade I was hoarding notebooks to draw in. Cuz that’s something fun about me: i had a real huge habit of drawing in things that werent sketchbooks. Through middle school and beyond I did buy/receive sketchbooks, but I started out with various kinds of notebooks. One I had from like 2nd grade was like a hardcover, stationary-type notebook that I drew cats in lol, and I have 2 velvet lisa frank notebooks from 3rd grade. In high school and college I had a really bad habit of drawing in the margins on my notes and on handouts the teacher/professor would give. Those classes where the prof just prints out all the notes beforehand and gives them to you to follow along? Oh man, I spent so many classes barely listening while I drew on them! I also used to draw on my physics homework and tests and sometimes I even got extra credit for them (thank you jeff :D). I actually have a folder of various drawings I’ve kept from that 8yr time period and a lot of them are on classwork 😂
Obviously, I’ve been doing a lot of digital art lately, which I’m sure is what u were more curious about rather than the shit about drawing on my homework. I got a surface pro as a graduation gift in 2016 bc prior to that i had a wacom tablet and a janky ass laptop, so the gift was kinda a 2-in-1: i can do schoolwork AND art easily! i like digital art a lot and honestly im still learning new things abt it every time i draw. I use Leonardo currently (i’ll skip that story) but I started out doing digital art on sketchfu WITHOUT the wacom tablet in maaaaybe 2012??? 2011??? does anyone on this site remember sketchfu? Honestly couldnt even tell u how i found that site hahah the internet was just full of wonders back in the day. RIP sketchfu. Once i got the tablet tho some time later i used sketchfu still (i think) but also gimp and krita i believe.
Oh i suppose I should mention that i took art all four years of highschool and also minored in it in college! So it’s something i did academically as well as for fun. I keep thinking about going to art school for realsies but idk. I’m already $$$ in debt from my first degree i dont feel like adding to that 😅😓
Ok now for the second part of your question: I’ve also pretty much always done fan art! Ive never really been one for OC’s, EXCEPT for the self-insert superhero double life “comics” i wrote about a poodle named Sassy when i was in third grade. And then the knock off “comics” i wrote at a later time which honestly it was weird that i did a knock off of my own thing rather than just adding them to the original or making it a spin off with at least one of the og characters. Cuz it wasnt a spin off!! But anyway there wasnt really much to any of these characters; i just needed vessels to get my weird ideas out.
So anyway yeah most of what ive ever drawn has been fan art or self portraits, because its just easier for me to take characters that already exist and bend them to my will (artistically). Well excluding art assignments in school i guess because i would usually have to draw something specific and therefore not something self indulgent. But yeah ive drawn for lots of fandoms like the earliest i remember is warrior cats. Then theres things like pokemon and warriors and random other books i read thru middle school (i used to read a LOT but now im practically illiterate); spn, sherlock, and marvel through high school; and then marvel and bttf thru the end of hs and beyond. Idk i also have always loved looking at other peoples fan art and so im like “shit i wanna do that too!”. Tho i will say marvel was my biggest fandom and the one i had the longest interest in, so that was probably where the passion REALLY came from cuz I was drawing marvel stuff for such a long time (tho not posting shdjsk u have to trust me), but ive been doing fan art forever :)
(Of course, a lot of the fan art i was making prior to recently was drawn in lined notebooks or on homework sheets or what have you, and I wasn’t posting really any of it, but i was still making it and a good chunk of it still exists. Oh i should also mention most of it was with pencils or ballpoint pens like i wasnt doing anything too fancy. There was some digital art in the highschool-college time frame but it also really wasnt…much. Honestly i barely posted any of it here but I know some of it’s on deviantart)
I cant pinpoint the exact time I started getting more “serious” about my art in general, but i know the first pandemic lockdown gave me more free time and i was less stressed about schoolwork so i just kinda had a good outlet. (Tho i will say that prior, I had been in a life drawing club for a short while, and i had also been working on a personal sketchbook project that had me pretty ~inspired~ to do art. Also i watched twin peaks around this time and it inspired a lot of Feelings and i was making funky collages and other art pieced that were sometimes related to that. Some of those are on deviantart)
Honestly I think the Big thing with my digital art was coincidentally getting back into BTTF the summer of the 35th anniversary bc the fandom here was THRIVING and i was like “oh shit wait i want to contribute!” But as i kept drawing i kept wanting to improve and that leads us to right now where im constantly trying new things (whether subtle or obvious) and challenging myself to do full body drawings with different poses, and doing screencap redraws and what have you for various reasons (backgrounds, proportions, pose, etc)
So yeah :) Basically I’ve been doing fan art forever (I didnt even get into all the mediums ive tried but that’s another conversation bc this is already so long and convoluted) and it’s kinda coincidental that ive suddenly really gotten back into it and have improved dramatically in such a short time. Thank you so much @rovermcfly for the ask and again im really sorry you had to wait so long for a response! Stupid tumblr
#rovermcfly#signed sealed delivered#THANK U SM I HOPE U ENJOY KY RAMBLING :)#id love to ramble more if theres anything else u’d like to hear about my art journey :) bc i know this is all over the place lmfao#i will say some periods of life were a bit more inspired than others and thats bc i like will not draw if im too stressed#bc likely if im too stressed im too tired. see: a few weeks ago when that job was draining my life force
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Pocket Monsta X - Back to School
A/n: A beautiful anon bean requested Pocket BTS back to school/or moms going back to school ~ so I combined them a bit and decided to do Monsta X too 😘 Enjoy, and have a good school year everyone!
Shownu:
the most well organized little bean
almost mathematical about it
counts all his pencils even if they came in a box labeled 12 or 24
gets so excited about the folders with the race cars on it
wants all his folders to be in black and red design
will understand if he can’t have that - but will be disappointed
likes the pencil bags with all the zippers and the googly eyes
will have a t-rex lunch box
helps you go grocery shopping for all the lunch foods and after school snacks
a good student, plays well with others
if you’re the one going back to school you better believe he’s going to be your #1 supporter hands down
will give you a little valentines day note every day, all year round
Wonho:
is so tearful on the first day of school
does not want to leave you
might get so nervous he throws up before you even leave the house
will be one of those students that spend the first half of every day for the first week really quiet and with red-rimmed eyes, tears silently tracking down their face and sniffing
once he makes friends though he will be okay
will try to hold the teacher’s hand
pack him special home-made snacks for lunch and give him a little hand-written note every day and he will feel better
might accidentally call the teacher ‘mom’
which only results in a fresh round of tears
has a comfort teddy bear/ bunny from home in his backpack
the most excited pocket to see mom after a long day
if you’re the one going to school he’s going to whine a lot a first
but be so proud of you for going back to school
will try to be helpful, sharpens your pencils for you if he thinks they’re too dull
Kihyun:
wants the sparkily folders
if he isn’t getting glitter on his hands when he pulls out his homework he’s not happy
wants the pencils labeled with the days of the week
also wants the clear/glittery pencil grips
so happy about pencil erasers
will spend hours when he gets home capping them onto his pencils and making the color combinations
has one of those large, plastic pencil cases
because he loves the clicking sounds it makes
dances when you write “Kihyun” on the top of it because it’s his
will happily write his own name on every single one of his pencils, crayons, markers, folders...
his name is the only thing he knows how to spell correctly and he loves it okay
but will be so excited to learn how to write and spell new words
will become the spelling bee champion at the end of the school year
blushes if he gets “have a good day! :)” notes written on his sandwich bags
has a special back to school bowtie - it has the alphabet and little pencils on it
loves The Magic School Bus more than anything
if it’s you going back to school he’s going to be the most organized little pocket
more organized than he is for himself
makes sure you do your homework and will nag you about it
Minhyuk:
Lisa Frank EVERYTHING pls
also anything that lights up (like those pens) or has a toy on top he wants wants wants
also wants a slap ruler (like one of the ones that’s like a slap bracelet)
wants all the gel pens
throws things in the cart when you’re not looking
just wants everything that has color and/or is shiny... which is a lot in back to school season
lays out all his things on the floor when you get home and tells you all about each item over and over again even though you were with him when you got them 15 minutes ago
the most talkative child in class
always raises his hand, knows the answers
even if he doesn’t he’ll raise his hand anyways
immediately friends with everyone in the classroom
helps the crying students (like Wonho) feel better by making them laugh and giving them big awkward hugs
gets invited to all the birthday parties
gets in trouble for learning the teachers first name and yelling “KAREN I HAVE A QUESTION”
if you’re the one going to school he’s going to ask you all the questions about why you’re going and what you’d learn
you can’t take him to class with you because he’ll just yell at the professor
“HEY MISTER SIR TEACHER SIR BEARDED DUDE MAN - WHAT IS MACHIAVELLI”
you’d have to put him in a daycare
Hyungwon:
will try to get everything in black
you will have to show him the back to school sheet and force him to put the 7/8 black folders and notebooks back
or else he’ll mess up his class subjects
wants to go overboard on the art supplies
will try to convince you that charcoal sketching pencils would be fine for note-taking
the quiet kid whom everyone likes
switches seats a lot because the teacher likes to put him by the loud annoying kids to try to teach them a lesson
just rarely rarely speaks up
gets nervous if called on to answer a question
gets comments on his report cards that say “very smart but doesn’t participate enough in class”
if you’re the one going back to school he’ll just kinda wave you away like
“bye have a good day as long as you come back i don’t care that much”
but will be so so glad when you come home because he actually did miss you
so proud of your every accomplishment
will let you know through extra cuddles
Jooheon:
you know those lava-lamp rulers? yeah. he wants one of those.
also wants the car folders like Shownu
but also wants every Spiderman folder you can find
has a lot of energy
but is a real sweetie
Loves the “School House Rock” songs, knows them all by heart
will sing “Conjunction junction, what’s your function” all around the house, dramatically
needs extra help with math
really likes when teachers play music and make the room smell like peppermint for tests
goes all out at gym class
particularly loves four-square
aims for the head during dodgeball - will claim ‘accidentally’ but you just know
gets in fights about once a week, usually gets a bloody nose
usually was defending a friend so he had good intentions but you’ll have to tell him over and over again his fists are not the answer
get used to getting phone calls
looses his first tooth (one of the front ones) during recess one day and can’t stop smiling and showing it to everyone
if you’re going back to school he’ll be super pouty at first
but then be really excited when you explain why you’re doing it
will miss you when you’re gone but wants to hear about your day when you come back - while cuddling, of course
I.M:
Bill Nye the Science Guy is his hero
the most enthusiastic one chanting “BILL BILL BILL BILL BILL!” in the classroom
will get up and dance/bounce around fist-pumping the air while he does it
sasses the teacher
but very clever
gives the teacher a poem and like a vegetable as a gift on the first day of school because he found it rhymed with their last name
likes fake stabbing people with mechanical pencils
doodles on his jeans and his arms with markers
is the one who helped Jooheon lose his tooth using the door and string method
is super shy for the first day of school but gradually warms up as the week goes on
wants to wear the same t-shirt every day
tells you excitedly about his first day and who he thinks is going to be his friends and who he already hates
will be the person with the handmade spitball gun
if you’re going back to school he’s super encouraging, helps you get ready
asks you questions about your homework and wants you to be happy
gives you lots of hugs, bc when you hug him he feels better so it’s only logical that you would feel better if he hugs you
~~
Tag List: @zerotexas1975 @restfromthestreets @tangledsparkles @purpletigertaetae @ruinedbyjin
#pocket mx#pocket monsta x#monsta x pockets#pocket!wonho#pocket!shownu#pockets#pocket! joohoney#pocket! im#pocket! jooheon#pocket! changkyun#pocket! kihyun#pocket! minhyuk#pocket! hyungwon#pocket! wonho#pocket! shownu#lee minhyuk#lee jooheon#chae hyungwon#son hyunwoo#shin hoseok#im changkyun#yoo kihyun#joohoney#jooheon#i.m#changkyun#shownu#wonho#kihyun#minhyuk
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So I was looking through dA journals...
and found this old meme
I gotta retake it right?
[ ] my fingernails/toenails are almost always painted (want to but lazy)
[✓] during the summer the only shoes i wear are flip flops (or I’m barefoot)
[ ] my favorite toys as a child were barbies (I wanted one but nana laughed)
[ ] my favorite colour is pink or purple (one of my fave colors still ish pink.)
[ ] I did Gymnastics
[✓] I love skirts
[ ] hollister is one of my favorite places to shop (I still dunno what this is)
[✓] tight jeans are the only jeans i'll wear
[✓] I love chocolate
[✓] I've never had a real job (I had four part times, back then I thought that was real)
TOTAL: 5
[ ] my hair is almost always straightened
[ ] I have at least 8 myspace pictures (none of them are actual pics of me, either... XD) Myspace is dead
[ ] I usually go shopping once a week POOR
[ ] I love to hang out at the mall with friends (what friends)
[ ] I have a real diamond ring or diamond necklace or earings
[ ] I've gone to a tanning salon
[ ] I've gone to the beach to tan - not to swim
[ ] I have at least 10 pairs of shoes
[ ] I watch either the OC or Laguna Beach
[ ] I change my icon weekly
[✓] I wear a shower cap
TOTAL: 1
[ ] I don't shop at Hot Topic
[ ] my cell phone might as well become a part of me (I dun have a cell phone. ._.') I do now, (well a PDA) but constantly lose it
[ ] I wear mascara everyday
[ ] I've been or am on a diet
[✓] bathing suits are adorable
[ ] I don't know the difference between a sheep and a goat.
[✓] big sunglasses are hot
[ ] I have gotten my nails done before
[ ] MTV is one of my favorite channels (I only watch MTV2 cuz of DEATHMATCH!)
TOTAL: 2
[ ] all I want to do at sleepovers is talk about boys
[ ] I love to have gurls do my hair IF I HAD ANY... GURLS
[ ] I give and recieve hugs from all my friends (I checked last time but I counted web hugs and now I don’t)
[✓] I hate bugs (Not all of them but a lot scare me now????)
[ ] carnivals are so fun! (meh)
[ ] Summer is THE best season
[ ] my swimsuit has 2 pieces (I’m too ugly...)
[✓] I'm waiting for my knight in shining armor (20 years now...)
[ ] musicians are so hot
[ ] you write me a poem and tell me I'm beautiful and I'm all yours
TOTAL: 2
[✓I am self-conscious
[✓] I cry often (counting this cuz more often than 2005)
[ ] my car smells like vanilla or cherry
[ ] my dishes get washed more than once a week(more like month or so...) I’m down to fortnight at most
[✓] I don't do sports
[✓] I HATE to run (Fun fact I’m seeing a doctor about fatigue! Hooray for lifelong health issues!!)
[✓] I squeal when I am surprised or angry (It pisses off nana)
[✓] I eat dried fruit as a snack (dried cherries is the bomb)
[ ] I love romance novels
[✓] Drew Barrymore is so cute (<3)
TOTAL: 7
[✓] I dance a lot. (barely LOL)
[✓] usually spend an hour or over to get ready to leave my house anxiety...
[✓] I only have like 5 billion hair products and they all didn’t WORK!!
[✓] I love to get dressed up.(I usually roll out of bed wearing what I wear XD) this is still true except now I wish I put on a cute dress...
[ ] every part of my outfit needs to match(Match? what am I? a nazzie?!) I don’t get this comment... then again nazi jokes were everywhere in the oughts...
[ ] I talk on the phone at least once a day to my friends this one’s sad cuz now I kinda want this?????
[✓] I would love to have a photo shoot (mixed but yeah if I were hot yes yeah yes)
[ ] I apply lip stuff 50 times a day
[✓] I wish I were a model SIGH...
TOTAL: 6
[ ] I wish I could meet Paris Hilton (to kill her) I don’t hate Paris Hilton now but aunno she was the homestuck of the early oughts okay
[ ] I have been something that was semi (like a truck? wha what is this..)
[ ] I own Uggs
[ ] Hip Hop is the best music
[ ] I pop my collar (How is this girly? it’s like 80s fuckboy)
[ ] I like to be the center of attention
[ ] guys with Mohawks are crazy
[ ] horses are beautiful
[✓] I'd rather not pay attention in school
[✓] Cats are adorable :3
TOTAL: 2
[✓] I write my own music
[✓] I would love to visit Hawaii (I want to drive one car through all 50 states)
[ ] Valentine's day is so cute!
[✓] white is better than black (Black is me mourning my lost gender, white is my gender being revived)
[✓] I wouldn't be caught dead in all black (I say this and I have a black kitty jumper)
[✓] my closet is STOCK FULL of clothes
[✓] hate the grunge look
[✓] I love to read magazines
TOTAL: 7
[✓] I love to gossip (blame twitter)
[ ] I had Lisa Frank folders/posters/notebooks as a kid (my drawing folder ish a Lisa Frank folder. :/) I don’t understand this comment, 20 year old me...
[ ] I love Celine Dion I HATE HER
[✓] my bubble baths are 1-2hrs long IF I HAD A BATHTUB
[ ] My wedding only needs a groom because it's already planned
[ ] My friends and I are in a strict group. We mostly only hang out with each other.
[ ] I like little kids
[ ] Diet drinks are the best (Die+T)
[ ] I'm all about being vegetarian
[✓] I refuse to eat at McDonalds When I was homeless we ate at McDonalds for a month cuz dollar burger and GOD it made me so sick NEVER AGAIN
TOTAL: 3
[ ] I check my myspace everyday. Myspace is dead LOL and the modern equivalent is... facebook???? which I try very hard to block
[ ] I love life! kssshhhhhhh NOOOOOOOOOO oh god I’d kill myself if the pain wasn’t too much
[ ] I have a lot of jewelry! (more than enough, anyway.)
[ ] my screen name(s) have x's in them
[ ] either one of my myspace names has/had <3's or in them
[ ] I would never want to be the opposite sex I was going “oh hey that changed!” but then I thought “wait sex as in gender or sex as in gonad” and if it’s the latter then I want different gonads cuz I really need to experience pregnancy or it’ll be a problem for everyone... I’ll make it a problem for everyone.
[✓] It's not what he/she said it's the way he/she said it SIGH yeah okay I guess that changed about me XD
[✓] I have more than 3 pillows on my bed
TOTAL: 2
Now add up all the total points and put "I am __% girly" for the subject if you steal or get tagged.
I’m 36% girly XD
Not much has changed but honestly what do you expect from a 2005 meme, I like how there’s a trans question, like “if you’re cis and can’t say yes to never wanting to be the opposite sex... maybe rethink that.”
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Waterparks and Waterworks
When we were in year 4 my friend had a birthday party at Wild Wadi.
On the day, we met up at the front of the park, myself, the birthday girl, her sister, our classmate and her three younger sisters.
We spent the afternoon running riot up and down steps, speeding through the lazy river, taking on the current in the wave pool and eventually stopping for chicken nuggets.
After our extremely overpriced lunch we decided we wanted to go on the family ride. It was the most fun cause we'd all get to go on it together; but it always had the longest queue.
While in theory it should have moved faster with multiple people per boat it also wasn't very fast and people had a tendancy to get wedged in.
So we decided to go and face the line.
As we climbed the hot stairs that weaved above the restaurant we made plans for how we would get the tube to go faster around the slide.
We discussed the intricate science of riding the walls in turns and who was going to get out and pull us round the bit in between the slides.
The queue snaked around the outside of waiting pool and up to the top of the park so we tacked ourselves on to the end and shuffled slowly forward with great anticipation for the next 20 minutes.
When we finally got to the front of the line the excitement was palpable.
The next empty boat came around we lept in.
First in was myself, the birthday girl and her sister. As our friend went to climb in the lifeguard called out and told us that we'd have to split the group into three and three, six of us couldn't go in one boat.
So I jokingly pointed out:
"You're wearing a different colour, we all match so we'll go together and see you guys at the top."
And off we went.
We weren't in the park for too much longer, but we continued to run and play until the had to kick us out to close up.
I thought everything was fine and we all went home to enjoy the rest of our weekends.
Cut to Sunday, it's the end of the school day and we've been sent a few at a time to get our bags and lunch boxes from our cubbies which sit in a thin corridor next to our classroom.
There's not a lot of space to move between the towering white shelves and the row of brass PE bag pegs. At one end is a fire door and the other leads back into the Year 3 / 4 block.
I was the last of my group, still fighting to get my book folder into my Lisa Frank backpack when suddenly, from no where my classmate's mother appears.
She storms up to me at my cubby and stands over me with a look of absolute rage. I look up slowly and as soon as my eyes meet hers she starts.
Her voice is hurried and hushed and her words were thick with distain for me - she wasn't supposed to be in the building, it wasn't pick up time.
She started off telling me how disgusting I was, how it's horrible to leave people out, to bully them.
I was shocked, I had no idea what she was talking about, her daughter was part of my closest group of friends, I'd never said anything to her, never done anything.
I stood paralysed with fear, she was inches from my face.
"just because someone has a different colour skin does not mean they cannot play with you."
I looked at her confused.
"you are to stay away from my daughter. I will make sure of it."
With that she walked away.
I stood by my cubby, frozen and terrified until my teacher popped her head round the door to hurry me along.
In a daze I walked back to my classroom and sat at my desk, looking across at the girl who's mother was now stood calmly waiting outside the window as if she hasn't just cornered and verbally accosted an 8 year old child.
I racked my brain trying to figure out what I'd done, what my friend had felt the need to tell her mum and how the hell her skin colour came into it.
As I sat in the car I was still quiet, trying to untangle the memory of every conversation I had had with her in the last week.
Suddenly it clicked.
The family ride.
When I made the comment about the swimming costumes she must have thought I'd said she was a different colour so she couldn't come in with us.
I was mortified, that wasn't what I had said at all. I had to make it right, I had to explain.
The next day I walked into class ready to clear the air and make things right.
I sat at my desk and waited for her but when she did walk in, she made a beeline for a table across the room.
Her mum had obviously had words with our teacher and had her moved away from me, but she didn't seem to have told her why because I never got spoken to about it.
I'd have to wait for playtime.
The bell rang and we all lined up. As the doors opened and we began our 20 minutes of outdoor freedom I made my way over to my friend.
Reaching out I touched her arm to get her attention but she scoffed, shrugged and trotted off.
I tried again and again for weeks to speak to her and explain that I hadn't said what she thought I said. That it was all a misunderstanding, a joke that went wrong but I was met with shrugs, scoffs, side-eyes and walk offs.
She completely distanced herself from us, never telling anyone what happened. She started spending her breaks in the library instead of outside, she sat alone on the carpet in class and partnered with whoever was left after the mad frenzy of picking in PE.
Her mother poisoned her against me, you could see it. Every time she picked her up or dropped her off she would look at me with eyes like daggers, say something and then leave. But I never told anyone either. I didn't know what she would do, she'd already got into the school where she wasn't allowed in order to tell me off, what would be next.
When our friend's family moved away at the end of year 4 there was zero common ground, we were in the same class for the next 3 years, we never talked once.
What happened that day in the cubbies will forever sit in the back of my mind.
It was the first time I ever truly saw what racism could do to a person, to a relationship.
For me, I had never really put any stock in the fact that our skin was different until that moment, it was just something that was, like having different coloured eyes or hair.
Suddenly my eyes were open to the fact that there were people in the world who didn't see it that way. People who thought they were better than another person because of the colour of their skin and that now, in the eyes of this family at least, I was one of those people.
A few years ago she added me on Facebook and we talked a little bit. Now she pops up on my feed every so often but that's about it.
I don't know if she remembers, I don't know if she knows what her mum did for her and I sometimes wonder if I should tell her what I actually said...
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Back to School with Tom and Crow
A short little romp through the joys of back-to-school shopping with the ‘bots. Much credit to @fontonascreen, who helped me flesh out my idea and provided three of the funniest bits of dialogue.
“I dunno,” Mike said, squinting down at the sheet in his hand, “I don’t remember needing all this stuff back when we went to school.”
“Back when we went to school, people still believed that education was important,” Joel answered, a little sharply. “The schools actually had money to provide supplies.” Joel was always a little touchy about educational criticisms, as his parents had been teachers before their retirement, Mike recalled.
“Are you two done? I wanna go pick out my backpack! All the good ones will be gone by the time we get there!” Crow whined and tugged at Mike’s arm.
“There’s a whole aisle full of backpacks. They’re not going anywhere, honey.” Mike kept Crow’s claw in a firm grip. No one was going to get lost this Target trip. “Why do they need crayons and markers and colored pencils? And why do the colored pencils specifically have to be Crayola?”
“The influence of Big Crayon has corrupted us all,” Joel remarked dryly. “Do you want a repeat of last year? Just get the stuff on the list.”
“It’s hardly my fault I was being a smart consumer and going with the least expensive option.”
Tom piped up from his seat in the shopping cart. “Have you ever tried coloring with generic dollar store crayons, Mike? It’s like using candles. Picasso didn’t use Cra-Z-Art for his masterpieces. How do you expect my creativity to blossom if you cheap out all the time?!?”
Mike stared at Tom, eyebrow raised. “If someone doesn’t behave himself, everyone is going to lose their McDonald's trip later.” The little red robot stared defiantly back for a moment, then sighed and sank back into his seat. Crow tugged at Mike’s arm again. “That goes for you, too, Crow.”
“But Daaaaaad -”
Mike snorted. “You only play the Dad Card when you know I’m right.”
“Let’s split up,” Joel suggested, grabbing another cart. “You and Tom get the school supplies, and I’ll take Crow to get his backpack.”
“Nuh-uh,” interrupted Crow. “I wanna go with Mike.” The man in question looked down at Crow. He’d been awfully clingy lately, choosing Mike over Joel in almost every situation. Mike filed that away to think about later.
“Fine,” Joel answered, his patience already fraying before they even got started. “Do you want to ride in the cart, Crow?”
“Only babies ride in the cart!”
“Hey!” Tom protested.
“Well it’s true!”
“McDonald's, guys?” Mike reminded the pair. They shut up immediately. “Tom, same black messenger bag like last year?” he asked.
Tom nodded. “It’s much more grown up than some baby backpack!”
“Hey!” It was Crow’s turn to protest.
“Enough. We’ll meet up in front of the cleaning supplies. Give me the list,” Joel said, plucking it out of Mike’s hand. “How you always end up with the easy job, I don’t know,” grumbled Joel, adjusting his glasses and giving the paper the once-over. Mike glanced down at Crow, once again straining with impatience.
One hour later…
“OK, you’ve got your Beauty and the Beast notebook – do you want a Toy Story one too? You need two different ones.”
“That’s for babies,” said Tom disdainfully. “How about X-Men?”
Joel scanned the shelves. “Sorry, buddy, seems like you’re outta luck on that. Harry Potter?”
“No. Unless it’s got the guy turning to ash on it! That’d be cool!”
“I think not. Monsters Inc.?
Tom tilted, considering. “Any with just Sully?”
Digging through the disorganized mess on the shelf in front of him, Joel located one and held it up for Tom. “This good?”
“It’ll do. I still want -” Over Joel’s shoulder Tom spied the Trapper Keepers. “Joel! Joel! Joel! I want the Trapper Keeper with the unicorn on it, right over there!”
“You know the school says no Trapper Keepers, Tom. Plain, solid color, one-inch three ring binder, that’s all.” Joel had memorized the list in the first fifteen minutes of arguing with Tom.
“But I want a unicorn! I want a rainbow unicorn, and that Trapper Keeper is the only one left! Please? Please? I’ll keep it at home for homework!”
Joel looked up at the ceiling and counted to ten while Tom begged. Taking a deep breath he pushed the cart past temptation and stopped in front of the folders.
“Here’s a Star Wars folder. Do you want a Star Wars folder?” Joel asked as he held one out.
“Not THAT one. Do you want me to be depressed every time I look at it?”
Joel glanced down at Hayden Christensen’s image. “Good point.” He tossed it back on the pile, then spied a burst of color on the next shelf up.
“You wanted a rainbow unicorn.” Joel grabbed a handful of folders and threw them in the cart. "Here's a pile of Lisa Frank folders. Go nuts."
Two hours later...
Mike sagged over the shopping cart and glanced at his watch for the hundredth time. “C’mon, Crow, just pick one already! Joel’s gonna kill me for letting you take this long.”
“I’m almost done! It’s a choice between this one,” Crow hefted a backpack with a picture of Spider Man shooting a web in his right claw, “and this one,” nodding at the pack in his left claw that featured a puffy, 3-D close-up design of Spider-Man’s suit.
Exaggeratedly Mike slowly turned to look up the aisle, then down, at the wall of backpacks in front of the two. "Why does it take you two hours to pick out a backpack if you just end up getting a Spider-Man one again?"
"I might want a different one! You don't know!" Crow snapped.
“Well, I do know now, because you’ve got two Spider-Man backpacks in your hands.”
“Which one do you like better?”
“I don-” Mike caught himself. He’d get out of here faster if he expressed an opinion. “The one with the picture.”
“I don’t know,” said Crow, “I kinda like the other one better.”
“Then pick the other one, and let’s go!”
“It’s not that easy! I have to live with this for a whole year! My reputation is on the line!”
“What reputation?”
“I happen to be the foremost Spider-Man expert in school! At least in my grade. Or my class. Anyway, it’s a heavy responsibility I carry,” Crow explained.
Mike dropped his head even lower over the cart. He took a deep breath, willed away the throbbing at his temples, straightened, and tried again.
"Crow, I thought you wanted something different this year? We could just use last year's backpack again if you're just going to get another Spider-Man."
"You can't use the same backpack two years in row! Geeze, no wonder no one liked you in school, Nelson!"
“I didn’t have a backpack. We didn’t use those yet,” Mike explained.
“So what did you carry your stone tablets around in?”
Mike’s eyes narrowed. “McDonald’s,” he reminded the gold bot.
Crow looked down. “Sorry,” he mumbled. Mike was touched. Crow did seem sorry – he hadn’t talked back.
“It’s OK, buddy,” Mike laid his hand on Crow’s shoulder. “You really gotta pick a backpack, though. So which one?”
“You really like the picture best?”
“Yeah, I do,” Mike answered warmly.
“Then I’m getting the other one!” Crow tried to toss it in the cart, but missed and hit Mike in the arm instead.
Mike picked the backpack up off the tiled floor, placed it in the cart alongside Tom’s messenger bag, and grabbed Crow’s claw before he could scamper off. “Next stop Pharmacy Department!”
“But we’re supposed to meet Joel over by the Kleenex!”
“There’s no way I’m going to make it through a trip to McDonald’s without a supersize bottle of aspirin. Or ibuprofen. Or both.”
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Learning to draw
To anyone who wants to LEARN TO DRAW and feels discouraged!!!
I can’t consider myself an amazing artist not in the least but i still get asked things like “how did you learn” and “did you go to school for it?”
Let me tell you MY SECRET!
I started by tracing!!!!
No joke.I was obsessed with lisa frank folders that i'd get for school and i would just trace over the same images over and over again until i could almost memorize how to draw that same image freehand. Eventually at 14 or so I got into anime. I modified screen shots on paint like a weab. I did recolors to make my own character based off inuyasha. I did all that cringe worthy stuff we generally mock for being saturated on DA. The only difference is i knew my art still wasn't my own and had no courage to post it online.Eventually my dad got me some how to draw books. I didn't study them properly. I drew the fun stuff and ignored the basics. Eventually i started trying to draw my own characters with just some references.. which escalated into free hand entirely. I hardly ever use references and generally we think that references are a bad thing to use BUT THEY ARE NOT! USE THOSE REFERENCES! Teach yourself the difference between using it as a guide and copying it entirely! Learn those foundations of shading a that circle into a sphere and how to hold your pencil! Learn all those shapes in the beginning of the how to draw books that we skip over! Draw daily! All the time! Don't be afraid to make it ugly! Not every piece is a masterpiece. infact.. MOST AREN'T!!!Every thing you draw is training.. always..forever..it never ends.. you never stop learning. drawing is essentially doing homework..
And that phrase "finished but not perfect" thing? TRUE AF! when your studying a part, you don't need a completed image.. but when you sit down and try to draw a "masterpiece," tell yourself that even if you get to a point where you hate it, FINISH IT! because sometimes, the drawings i originally hated the most end up looking pretty good.. sometimes it fluctuates.. but training yourself to push through and improvise is such a good exercise!
Theres no ending to learning. So just keep going! Don't be afraid to experiment. The more you draw, the more variety you draw, the more you'll find what you like and don't like.
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The oral history of Tom Brady and the Montreal Expos
Now that Tom Brady has announced his retirement from baseball, it’s time to look back at what his baseball career has meant to so many people.
Here’s what it means for an athlete to be inextricably linked with a city: The seasons bleed into each other, year after year, just like every other year bleeds into the next, but these years are also defined by what this athlete does.
Ah, yes, 199x was the year Sports Championship was won and my child started the first grade.
These descriptions come organically.
Ah, yes, 200x was a year of heartbreak, too much heartbreak for sports to explain, and it was also the year I moved out of state.
The player becomes the team, the team becomes a signpost along your path. The team and this player are all there, eternally present. They’re both the background music of your life and the sweaty, sold-out concert you’ve been attending for 150,000 consecutive hours.
If we agree on this, if we acknowledge that sports are more than a series of silly games to pass the time, we have to acknowledge that no baseball player has ever defined his city quite like Tom Brady has defined Montreal. For 19 seasons, from fresh-faced catcher to steel-jawed first baseman, the city has been defined through sport, the sport defined through a single player.
In honor of Brady’s final season with the Expos, we’ve put together an oral history of what will be a Hall of Fame career. It is, of course, an incomplete oral history, just because it has to be.
But we have to try. Tom Brady is the story of Montreal baseball. This is a piece of that story.
The beginning
Gary Hughes, Expos scout
He caught four consecutive shutouts in his senior year, and I think I saw the second or third of those. It’s always tricky to project high school catchers, but he was so damned smooth. It was like watching Pudge (Rodriguez) as a teenager.
Pete Jensen, Junipero Serra High School head coach
We won the title in Tommy’s junior year. I think he had a key sacrifice in the championship game, which was just perfect. He caught nine innings of shutout ball and sacrificed when we asked him to. That’s his entire Serra career in a sentence.
Pat Burrell, Bellarmine High School
We were both on the All-CCS team, so I knew him a little bit. I mean, I was the CCS Player of the Year, so he probably knew me a little more than I knew him, but we all knew he was a solid player
Gary Hughes
I was pushing for Brady in the first three rounds, but they made the right decision (to wait). That doesn’t mean I wasn’t sweating it for 18 damned rounds.
Pat Burrell
He was the only catcher I ever played against who told me to put my shirt on. I hated it at the time, but I respect it now.
Kevin Malone, Expos GM (1994-1995)
He wanted to play football, and it’s not like we were going to pay him to give that up. We didn’t have the money. It’s a miracle that he changed his mind at the last second. Baseball was his true love, I guess.
Grant Brisbee, SB Nation senior baseball writer
I probably played against Tom Brady in little league at some point. I don’t remember if I did for sure, but there was probably a tournament that we both played in, and I just want to make sure that everyone knows I used to play baseball.
A quick ascent
Brian Schneider, teammate, Gulf Coast Expos (1995)
I was a fifth-rounder, so I figured I was going to get most of the starts. Then this skinny kid comes in and starts raking. I hit, like, .220 that year, and he was probably busting 100, 150 points over me. I was praying that he’d get bumped up a level before the next season.
Milton Bradley, teammate, Gulf Coast Expos (1996)
He knew just what to say to fire you up. Knew just what to say to calm you down. Like, he was just a teenager, right? But he talked like a damned mountaintop guru when he needed to. He was freaky like that.
Doug Sisson, manager, Delmarva Shorebirds (1996)
We had a catching prospect, Michael Barrett, who was pretty good. But Brady showed up and the entire pitching staff followed him around like a mama duck after a week. I brought (Barrett) in for a chat because I didn’t want him to get discouraged, and he said, “Don’t worry about it. He’s just passing through.” And he was right. (Brady) was called up to Double-A about six weeks later.
Vladimir Guerrero, teammate, Harrisburg Senators (1996)
He came up to me in the batting cage the first day he was on the team and told me a story about a mongoose and a cobra. It was a parable or something. I don’t remember it exactly, but the message had to do with patience.
Pedro Martinez, teammate, Montreal Expos (1997)
I threw to him in spring training, 1997, and we were all looking at each other, like, “Who is this kid?” I don’t want to get too weird, but he wasn’t just a catcher, he was like a dancer. A ballerina. (laughs) I’m serious! And you knew it right away, too.
Vladimir Guerrero
I had my first four-walk game the next night. Not a coincidence.
Pedro Martinez
The only problem was that he wasn’t even 20 yet, so I didn’t think I’d get to pitch to him. I knew that (the Expos) wanted to trade me. But he came up in September, so we had a month, at least.
Felipe Alou, Expos manager (1992-2008)
When he came up in ‘97, the clubhouse changed. When we broke camp in ‘98, it carried over. We traded Pedro, traded Mike (Lansing), and were supposed to lose 100 games. We won 87. That’s all Brady.
Pedro Martinez
He’s the biggest reason why I came back, definitely. That and the chance to pitch with Carl (Pavano) and Dustin (Hermanson).
Rise of the Expos
Dustin Hermanson, teammate (1998-2004)
When he was a rookie, he pulled me aside in May after I gave up eight earned runs, and he said, “Dustin, you’re a hell of a pitcher, but I’m not worried about the bad outing. I’m worried that your facial hair makes you look like a magician planning a heist at the casino that fired you.”
I shaved before I left the clubhouse that night. And I swear to God, it shaved a run off my ERA, too.
Carl Pavano, teammate (1998-2011)
We all have stories like that. I was a rookie. He was a rookie. We’re supposed to be on the same level, but says, “Hey, let’s go to Kelseys. I’m buying.” And I’m thinking, sure, whatever. Then he talks for two hours about how I needed to set the Maddux comparisons on fire and get them out of my head. The way he explained it ... it was like there was a Lisa Frank folder exploding in my head.
Dustin Hermanson
We didn’t make the postseason that year, but we knew we had something.
Vladimir Guerrero
I hit 40 home runs, but Tom kept messing with me because I didn’t crack 100 walks. So that was the goal next year. Once he says it, you start believing it.
Felipe Alou
And he smelled like lemon meringue. Damnedest thing.
The Golden Summit
Pedro Martinez
It meant something to me to come back and finish what I started. The Red Sox wanted me to sign an extension, but I was a little homesick. Luckily, the new owners were willing to spend a little more than the old owners.
Jeffrey Loria, art dealer
I was eaten by wasps, so I never owned the Montreal Expos.
Jean Coutu, Expos owner (1998 - present)
I didn’t even care about baseball. Didn’t grow up with it. Didn’t understand it. But I was watching television one day, and Tom Brady was on, and I said, “Marcelle, who is that man? I must invest in that man.” She knew. She knew right away.
Jeffrey Loria
I have no idea what Brady had to do with the wasps. Or what I’m doing in this oral history about baseball. Or how I’m speaking from a limitless void right now, beyond existence. None of this makes sense.
Jean Coutu
I didn’t know anything. I just told them to get the best players and keep Tom happy.
Pat Gillick, Expos GM (1998-2008)
People credit me for building a championship team, but I inherited Tom Brady and my owner told me that I could give Pedro Martinez a bunch of money. Any usher on the payroll could have done that.
Vladimir Guerrero
There was a competition between Milton and me that whole season, seeing who would get to 40 homers first. And here comes Tommy, hitting 16 homers in August to make us pay attention to him. He was competitive like that. Think he liked messing with us more than hitting home runs (laughs).
Felipe Alou
When we clinched the division (in 1999), Tom went out there and shook Pedro’s hand. No big bear hug. Just a handshake. It was his way of saying, “This isn’t finished.”
Dustin Hermanson
I remember reading that the Championship Series was the greatest pitching matchup in 40 years. Johnson and Schilling vs. Pedro, Carl, Javier (Vasquez) and me. I don’t know about all that, but we knew it was special.
Brad Fullmer, teammate (1997-2002)
Brady owned Randy (Johnson). It was hilarious, because no one hit that guy at all, but there Tommy was, lining everything right back up the middle. I swear he lined them back up the middle on purpose.
Randy Johnson
If I ever see him again, I will bite him.
The Play at the Plate
Felipe Alou
All anyone wants to talk about is the play at the plate. No one wants to talk about his 12 hits.
Buck Showalter, manager, Arizona Diamondbacks (1998-2000)
One of the worst calls I’ve ever seen, and I’m not going to let it go.
Felipe Alou
(Erubiel) Durazo came in, Tommy tagged him, and after the play was over, he dropped the ball.
Buck Showalter
It was a drop. Durazo leveled him, and the ball popped out. Simple. Now I’m pissed off all over again.
Felipe Alou
He showed the ball to the umpire, and the ball came out when he was bringing the glove down after showing him. He was bringing it back in. The play was over.
Buck Showalter
I’d like to read the alternate, you know, oral history of that play being called correctly. I’ll bet it all changes for them.
Brian Gorman, umpire
He was probably out. I don’t know. Also, that guy always smelled like lemon meringue. Damnedest thing.
Pat Gillick
After the Diamondbacks, we went through the Braves. After the Braves, we went through the Yankees. Tommy caught every single game, and he called six shutouts out of the 11 postseason wins. No one is ever touching that record.
Felipe Alou
Montreal had a championship. Finally, a trophy they could share with the fans. They deserved it. That was Tommy’s first MVP award that year, too. You could tell that, finally, the city started to care about sports. Deeply, passionately, they cared about this stuff. It was a sports town now.
Guy Lafleur
Hey, what the hell.
The new stadium
Felipe Alou
They broke ground on Coutu Field the same day we got (Curt) Schilling, which was probably a sign.
Pat Gillick
Nothing embarrassed him more than when he called it “The House That Brady Built.” He didn’t buy that, even if we were dead serious about it. It didn’t happen without him.
Carl Pavano
It wasn’t going to open until 2002, so we just kept our heads down and played in the dome. But we knew it was going to be amazing.
Pat Gillick
With the injury to Dustin (in 2000), we needed another reliable arm, and we could have probably made do with anyone because Pedro and Carl were pitching so well, but we figured we might as well get a co- co- co-ace.
Curt Schilling, teammate (2000-2005)
We hit it off right away, playing Mario Kart for hours on the road, and just talking about whatever. He was so funny and unaffected by the kind of brain trauma he might have otherwise experienced in another sport, and he really got me thinking about social responsibility.
Vladimir Guerrero
When we got Curt, and Pedro was at his best, and Tommy was catching them both, man, it felt like we were going to win 100 games without breaking a sweat. Winning only 108 ticked me off, really.
Curt Schilling
I’m a little introverted, but here’s this guy, the biggest sports star on the planet, getting me fired up about the heteronormative hegemony at 3 a.m., then yelling about Rainbow Road a second later. I couldn’t keep up, and I loved it. It sure is a good thing he didn’t suffer several undiagnosed concussions that would have screwed with the part of his brain that affected critical thinking.
Felipe Alou
By the time Coutu Field opened up, Tommy had two championships, a Rookie of the Year, and two MVPs. He wasn’t even 26. Pedro, Curt, Pavano, and Vlad were all taking less money to keep the core together for the new park, and Tommy was going to be the centerpiece.
Pat Gillick
You’ve seen the place. It’s the best ballpark in baseball. And of course it was Tom who hit the first homer into the water. I would have played seven relievers in the field for a month to make sure of that, but he just did it on his own. Like he does.
More championships (yawn)
Nick Johnson, teammate (2004-present)
I remember missing some time with a wrist injury, and Brady grabbed the wrist as we went into the tunnel. At first I thought he was trying to comfort me or something, but then he brought the wrist close to his nostrils and exhaled like he was a danged dragon. It was really weird. But the wrist felt better right away.
Vladimir Guerrero
People asked me if I got tired of being the second-best hitter on the team. Like it ever bothered McCovey. Heck, no. It was an honor.
Nick Johnson
There were times on the road where I’d catch him standing over my bed at night, muttering stuff in a weird language. But he’s had my back 140, 150 games every year for over a decade now, and it almost feels like I’m getting younger with each passing year, so I don’t talk about that much. Don’t print this, actually.
Grady Sizemore, teammate (2004-2013)
Wait, he did that to Nick, too? The heck is that about?
Wilton Guerrero, teammate (2002-2009)
I turned to him after the end of the 2008 World Series and asked him if this ever got old. He just laughed and laughed. It never, ever got old for him, all the winning. It was infections.
Kevin Durant, forward, Montreal Voyageurs
You knew it was his town. When he showed up at a game, everyone knew it. “Oh, shit, Tom Brady’s courtside.” I wouldn’t say that we played harder or anything, but it wasn’t just the same old night.
Felipe Alou
There wasn’t a single one of the championships that wasn’t directly related to his contributions. Even though we had a whole mess of All-Stars and Hall of Famers come through here — Pedro, Schilling, Grady, Vlad, Pavano — every World Series win had a direct line to about 39 things that Tommy did. It’s not like you had to dig for them, either.
Derek Jeter, Yankees shortstop
We almost beat him in the 2008 World Series, and I’ll remember that for a long time. Which is sad.
Felipe Alou
I retired after ‘08, but I knew Tommy had a few more good years left in him. Even after he turned 30, he was untouchable.
Winding down
Billy Beane, GM (2009 - 2015)
With Felipe and Pat gone, we took the franchise in a different direction. Some of it worked. Some of it didn’t. Tom, to his credit, didn’t say much. He just hit and led the team. Every damned year.
Davey Lopes, manager (2009 - present)
We stopped winning championships every year. Wasn’t his fault. Baseball just doesn’t work like that.
Bryce Harper, Padres outfielder
When we met them in the (2012) NLCS, we knew they hadn’t been there for a few years. But that doesn’t mean they weren’t intimidating as all hell. That’s Tom Brady, right? And Grady Sizemore. And Nick Johnson. You didn’t want to make too much of a big deal about it, but those guys are all legends.
Milton Bradley, manager, Padres (and former Brady teammate)
It was a weird feeling going up against him. I honestly don’t know if I’d be managing in the majors right now without him. But we were the underdogs, so I focused on that. They were the big-market bullies. Screw ‘em.
That doesn’t mean that I didn’t choke up every time I looked in that other dugout. Love that man, love that city.
Billy Beane
That 2012 season was a blast. I had a lot of Expos fans tell me that was the best title yet. It was the first year Brady was at first, so it’s not like we can credit him with everything Max (Scherzer) or Pedro (fuck it, Martinez, he’s back, he never retired, this is my story) did, but you know he was helping them in some capacity, even if he wasn’t behind the plate.
Davey Lopes
That was the first October that Tommy struggled at the plate. He’s had a couple good years since, so it’s not like age caught up with him. Just one of those things. He still got to jump on the top of the dogpile, though.
Billy Beane
In the last couple years, he’s had to deal with some nonsense. The corked-bat suspension. The stupid hat (an Hugô St-Onge campaign hat reading “Rendre Montréal défoncé à nouveau”) in his locker. But he’s still been nothing but class, regardless of what
Jean Coutu
He was going to be the best since Pudge. Then the best since Gary Carter. Then the best since Bench. Now he’ll go down in history as the player that other catchers will be chasing. Every young catcher star for the next 50 years will be chasing the ghost of Tom Brady, who won three MVPs ...
Felipe Alou
... five championships ...
Pat Gillick
... saved a franchise from moving to, I don’t know, Charlotte, or something ...
Jean Coutu
... and made 17 All-Star teams. He’s the definition of catching. He’s the definition of Montreal baseball. He’s the definition of baseball. What a gift, what an honest-to-goodness gift he’s given this sport. And we’ll miss him so very much.
Thank you, Tom. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Montreal thanks you. We all thank you.
Tom Brady (radio interview, 2014)
I’ll be honest with you, I was never really that into baseball, but I was good at it, and I didn’t want to sit on the bench at Michigan, so whatever.
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