#but if u don’t have coins u have to buy them

[theostrophywife]

heat wave.

pairing: azriel x reader x cassian.

request: Hi I don’t know if your requests are open but if so would u write something with reader x cassian x Azriel maybe smutty little bit ( I feel like cass would have a size kink and Az a corruption one anyway🤷🏻‍♀️😂)

author's note: size kink cassian 🤝 corruption kink azriel. i swear i haven't forgotten about the bat boys, i'm just deep in the slytherin boys brain rot rn.

Summer swept through the city of starlight with a sweltering heat wave. The blistering sun left you feeling hot, damp, and sticky as sweat dripped down your back. The only relief to be found was in the sugary sweet cone of strawberry ice cream that Azriel had brought back for you from his trip to the market square. The shadowsinger kissed your temple before sauntering into the training pit to come face-to-face with Cassian.

The Illyrian warlord raised an amused brow. "So that's why you were late." Cassian mused, sending you a conspiratorial wink from your place underneath the shade. "You spoil her, Az."

"You're just jealous he didn't buy you a cone too, Cassie."

Cassian grinned. "You're the only sweet treat worth indulging in, and I'll have my taste of you soon enough, pretty girl." The suggestive words made your body buzz with excitement. "Right after I kick Azriel's ass for making me wait."

The shadowsinger chuckled before disappearing in a dark blur. He reemerged seconds later with twin blades in his hands and a mischievous grin. "Show me what you've got, Cassie."

You leaned back in your lounge chair, enjoying the cool relief of the sweet treat. It would've been cooler inside the house, but nothing, not even the thick muggy air could stop you from watching the two males spar.

By nature, Azriel and Cassian were competitive males.

The Illyrian warriors were opposite sides of the same coin—Cassian with his boldness and passion and heat; Azriel with his mystery and brooding and seduction. You always thought of them as fire and ice. The best of both worlds.

While the competition between them was fierce — whether in fighting or drinking or fucking, you found that Azriel and Cassian worked best in tandem.

More specifically, when they worked you in tandem.

At first, you were skeptical about the dynamic, but the more the three of you explored, the more comfortable you became with one another. It didn’t hurt that you had Cassian and Azriel completely wrapped around your finger. They would do anything for their sweet, innocent little priestess. Though the thoughts running through your mind as you watched them train were far from virtuous. If anything, they were downright sinful.

Underneath the sweltering summer sun, Cassian and Azriel moved swiftly, shedding their leathers to reveal planes of smooth, hard muscles that flexed with each movement as they darted across the red sand. Mirroring the treat in your hand, you were reduced to a sticky pool of desire as you shamelessly ogled your two favorite males.

Azriel glanced at you, a knowing smile gracing his handsome face. “Better lick it up fast, angel. You wouldn’t want to make a mess.”

Strawberry ice cream dripped all over your fingers and while you did your best to lap up the melted liquid, the heat was working against you. Besides, you were too distracted by their glistening bodies, golden brown and sweat slicked and all too tempting. You licked your lips, indulging in the lingering sweetness of strawberries and cream and wishing it was the taste of a set of deliciously sinful abs instead.

“I think she’d rather lick something else up, Az.”

You flushed, suddenly feeling hot all over despite your refuge in the shade. Cassian was a shameless flirt, but it was all in good fun. Teasing was his favorite part of this little game of yours, but in the end he always gave in. At your core, the two of you were absolute hedonists. Both too impatient to deny each other gratification.

Azriel, on the other hand, wasn’t as self indulgent. The shadowsinger could hold out for hours. Make both you and Cassian really beg for it. This time, you decided to get ahead of the game.

You shot a sly glance at Cassian while the shadowsinger had his back turned, urging him to play along. The Illyrian warlord grinned like a devil and discretely nodded before pivoting so that Azriel was facing you.

With a saccharine smile, you licked long, deliberate stripes along the cone while holding the shadowsinger’s heated gaze. “I was wondering,” you pondered as you wrapped your lips around the scoop rather suggestively. “If it feels as good for males as it does for females.”

Azriel cocked his head, intrigued. shadows twisted through his dark wings. “If what feels as good, angel?”

“Pleasuring someone with your mouth.” The shadowsinger stilled. Behind him, Cassian’s mouth dropped open. “I’ve never done it before, but I’d like to try. Maybe you could teach me, Az.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched as he inhaled deeply. Hook, line, and sinker. “Then you and Cas could both confirm my theory.”

Moments later, you found yourself crammed into the shower between Cassian and Azriel. The Illyrian warlord spread out on the built in marble bench, water dripping down his shoulders as his unbound hair formed a dark curtain around his face. He looked like the god of war, all lean muscle and rugged beauty.

Warm, honey eyes tracked your movements as you discarded your dress and stepped underneath the steady stream of water. The shadowsinger's gaze hungrily raked over your naked body as he tucked his wings in close.

"Get on your knees for me, angel."

You followed azriel’s instructions and knelt in front of Cassian. When you looked up, you found nothing but dark pools of lust staring back at you. Cassian suppressed a shiver at the sight of you on your knees, watching and waiting. Hanging onto every word.

Azriel brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. “Open your mouth, baby. Go slow at first. Treat it like the ice cream. Lick from the shaft to the tip.”

You did as you were told and gave tentative little licks along the underside of his cock. Cassian was warm velvet in your mouth. “That’s it, angel. You’re doing so well.”

Cassian moaned in agreement while the shadowsinger gathered your hair into a ponytail. “Now, hold your breath and take him as far as you can.”

You obliged, slightly gagging as Cassian settled in the back of your throat. Azriel knelt behind you, pressing encouraging kisses behind your ear. Sharp teeth grazed the column of your throat and you moaned, which elicited a hum of pleasure from the male above you. Peering through your lashes, you waited for Azriel’s instructions. he smirked, knowing he was in full control.

“Bob your head up and down. Make it messy, my love.” Cassian groaned as you picked up the pace, his dark lashes kissing the tops of his cheekbones while the back of his head rested against the marble tile. He gripped the edges of the bench so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

Azriel chuckled darkly. He caressed your cheek, stroking over where Cassian was slotted in your mouth. “Our perfect little whore. So good at following instructions when you want to, yeah?”

You groaned as Azriel pushed your head down. Cassian hit the back of your throat, making you gag on his cock. His head fell back, mouth opening to release a filthy moan.

“That’s my good girl. Do you see what you’re doing to poor little Cassie? You’re unraveling him, angel. I bet he’s close to coming. Aren’t you, Cas?”

Cassian shuddered, his wings flexing behind him in confirmation. “Gods, don’t stop. Your mouth is perfect. Feels too fucking good.”

"Use both hands, love." Azriel instructed as he helped you get a firm grip on cassian. Water trickled through his perfectly sculpted abs, clenching as his release came closer and closer.

"Fuck, Y/N," Cassian growled. His hazel eyes burned as he watched you take all of him. Rough, calloused fingers caressed the hollow of your throat. He could feel you gag around him as he fucked your pretty mouth. You were so tiny and delicate, but absolutely fucking filthy too. Cassian was obsessed. "You're so pretty when you suck my cock."

You hummed in response, making the winged male buck against you. He gripped the back of your head and thrusted in and out as you moaned your approval. "Oh gods, Y/N. I'm so fucking close."

The shadowsinger grazed your earlobe with his teeth. "Swallow, baby. Every single drop. Do you understand?"

You nodded as Cassian shot hot ribbons into your mouth. The Illyrian warrior shuddered as you milked him dry, savoring the salt and musk of him hitting the back of your throat. He pulled you under the running water, droplets catching in your lashes as Cassian pressed you against the cold tile.

A mischevious grin curled against his lips as he caged you in. You startled at the way he completely enveloped you, the cover of his wings blocking out the light as his lips met yours. Cassian loved towering over you like this, his large hands roaming your body as he gripped your hips and lifted you up with ease.

You groaned as he wrapped your legs around his waist, his gruff movements making you feel as light as a rag doll as he kissed you fervently. He tasted like cinnamon and whiskey, an intoxicating combination that you chased with your tongue as you pulled at his hair. Cassian returned the favor by biting down on your bottom lip, chuckling darkly as your stiffened peaks pressed against the hard planes of his chest.

"Feisty little doll, aren't you?" He growled against your ear. Cassian hiked you up, letting you feel the effect of the kiss poking against your inner thigh. "I could take you right here and then without even breaking a sweat, sweetheart. You're such a tiny little thing, but you take cock so well, don't you?"

You responded with a whimper. Cassian bit into your neck, hard enough to leave a mark. "Cas, please."

The desperation in your voice was enough to make Cassian's cock twitch against your leg. You knew that with the right combination of pleading eyes and trembling lips, Cassian would be putty in your hands. You rolled your hips against him and he moaned against your neck. When his gaze met yours, his pupils were nothing but dark depths of desire.

"I need you, Cassian."

"Cauldron fucking boil me," he muttered. "Have me then, pretty girl."

You smirked, satisfied with your little victory until Azriel hovered behind Cassian's wings.

"Now who's spoiling her, Cas?" He nudged his brother aside and pulled you back down. Cassian smiled sheepishly, knowing full well that he would've fully given into you if the shadowsinger hadn't stepped in.

Azriel's smile was a cruel slant. "You're a devious little minx," he said. "You may be the perfect picture of innocence, but you're nothing but a filthy little slut, aren't you? It's too bad that I know all your tricks, angel. Seeing as how I’m the one who taught them to you."

You grinned. "It just means you're a great teacher, Az." The shadowsinger raised a brow as you snaked your arms around his neck. "You should be proud."

Azriel chuckled darkly before peeling you off of him. A dark curl clung to his cheek, covering the mischievous glint in his golden eyes. "I'll be proud after I make you squirt in my mouth two or three times." He nodded back to the marble bench. "Now be a good girl and lie down. You’re about to reap the consequences of your actions. I don't take kindly to being teased, my love."

The shadowsinger briefly glanced at Cassian. "You too, Cas. Hold her hips down. I don't want her squirming away before she's learned her lesson."

Cassian winked before settling onto the marble bench. Azriel instructed you to lie back against his brother's chest before kneeling between your legs. You swallowed thickly as the shadowsinger spread your thighs apart.

Azriel smirked as he secured your ankles around his neck. "You're dripping, angel." His seductive laugh skittered up your spine. "You like being a tease, don't you? Do you enjoy bringing Cassian and I to our knees?"

"Only because I love the view," you said with a smile. "But not as much as I love the both of you."

Cassian chuckled and wrapped you up in his arms. "We love you too, sweetheart, but Az is going to make you pay like he promised. Can't save you from him now, baby doll."

The shadowsinger kissed the inside of your knee and smiled. His warm breath fanned against your overheated core as he licked a teasing strip along your folds. You instantly arched into him, your body begging for more. Azriel signaled to Cassian, who shook his head and held your hips down.

"Don't let her up, Cassian." Azriel said. "Not until she begs."

Cassian only nodded and kept you firmly pressed against him as Azriel went to work. His tongue explored every inch of you, licking and sucking as though you were the strawberry cone from earlier. You nearly cried when he teased two fingers in, his mouth working in tandem to push you over the edge. The sensations were overwhelming and the combination of his mouth and fingers was enough to make you want to weep.

As always, Azriel set a punishing pace. It was like he was gauging how far he could push you until you completely lost your grip on reality. Your first orgasm felt like an explosion. Stars flooded your vision as though you were witnessing the demise of a dying star. A supernova.

The second time Azriel made you cum, you thought you were going to pass out from the intensity of the pleasure. When the third rolled around, you couldn't even remember your name.

"Az please," you cried. "I can't take any more."

Azriel glanced up at you, a damp curl clinging to his cheek as his mouth glistened with your arousal. He looked like a lion after devouring a fresh kill. Dark, lethal, and utterly dangerous. And you fucking loved him for it.

"You've got one more in you, darling. Doesn't she, Cas?"

Cassian smirked, his rough hands biting into your hips. "Maybe she needs a little motivation."

"Oh?" The smirk on Azriel's lips spelled nothing but trouble. He licked his lips, gathering the juices with his tongue. "Come and taste her on me, then. That should inspire her to ride another one out."

You swallowed thickly as Cassian kissed Azriel hungrily. The shadowsinger's scarred fingers snaked through Cassian's hair possessively, claiming him with his tongue and his touch. You groaned, whining until Azriel shot you a glare. He wasn't going to let you join in on the fun.

Cassian pulled away, looking dazed and disoriented. "You taste like heaven, doll." He kissed your cheek and chuckled as you tried to turn and catch his lips instead. "Be good and give Azriel one more, sweetheart. Then you can get all the kisses you want."

You pouted, but did as you were told. Azriel disappeared between your thighs again. Despite how overstimulated you felt, release found you in record time. Before you knew it, you were writhing against Azriel's mouth and coming for the fourth time.

It felt like both heaven and hell. Heaven because the pleasure was unlike any other. Hell because receiving that many orgasms back to back had you utterly spent even though you would've begged for more if you had the energy to speak.

"What did you learn today, angel?"

"Don't interrupt training." Azriel nodded in satisfaction. "And—"

The shadowsinger raised a brow. "There's an and?"

"And you eat pussy like a god," you stated matter-of-factly.

That earned you an amused smile. "Hear that, Cas? I think I might get a plaque made to put in my office."

Cassian only rolled his eyes. "She's only saying that because I haven't worked my magic yet." He brushed through your hair and kissed your temple. "I'll prove myself soon enough, but for now, you should get some rest pretty girl."

You nodded in agreement. "Cuddles?"

"Cuddles," Cassian confirmed.

After you cleaned up and dried off, you settled into bed. Sometimes the three of you slept in Cassian's room. Other times at Azriel's. But since your bed was the biggest, the three of you tended to prefer sleeping in your room most nights.

Your eyes felt heavy as Azriel snuggled behind you, smiling gently as Cassian tucked you underneath the blankets. You threw your leg over his, giggling as he complained about your cold feet.

"Shut up, you love it."

With the moonlight glistening against Cassian and Azriel's shirtless torsos as they snuggled up on either side, you couldn't help but feel like the luckiest female in the realm. The shadowsinger leaned over to kiss both of you good night.

“The next time you two conspire against me like that, I won’t be as nice. Do you understand?”

You and Cassian nodded, but the moment that Azriel looked away, you smirked at each other.

There would definitely be a next time.

You two never learned.

#i missed my bat boys #azriel smut #cassian smut #azriel fic #cassian fic #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #cassian x you #azriel x you

[jiminrings]

fail-safe

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 8k

glimpse: growing up, your brother's best friend always berated you for not having a passion in life outside of loving him from afar. when yoongi leaves everything he's ever known for everything he's ever wanted, trying to move on from him becomes your biggest aspiration.

alternatively, yoongi left when you needed him the most, and comes back home at a time when you love him the least.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]

[ a Lot of angst, eventual fluff, brother's best friend AND single dad au, So Much Yearning, unrequited love (initial), jealousy, self-deprecation, a lot of talk abt passion in an empty n hurtful way that most impassioned youngest children feel (it's a specific feeling idk!!!), eventual redemption in the next parts ]

notes: finally got to writing a new series!!! i'm beyond excited for this + this whole new concept and flow i haven't touched on before <3 i hope u love fail-safe as much as i do :-)

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! | series masterlist

Yoongi buys atleast one scratch ticket a week.

The accessibility of buying one is top-notch considering that all he has to do is cross the street, shoot one look to the cashier, and he can either already go hunch in the corner of the road or in the comfort of his room. The moment his coin takes its first dig and he realizes that he’s won yet again, he’s satisfied enough not to buy another ticket.

He doesn’t want to risk losing the win he’s just gained, the odds of him throwing out money besting his chances in adding to his earnings. He thinks everyone’s a little greedy one way or another, but it’s the righteous part of him that thinks he’s different.

You do think that he is for all the right reasons, your vision only tunneling for him alone. He’s this fixed older figure in your life and you can’t figure out how to shrug him off — he’s this generous leech that sucks all of the rationality from your mind but returns it to you twofold, whether in the form of him saying something unintentionally endearing that it makes your chest hurt, or through him having to lightly smack the back of your head.

Yoongi’s your older brother’s best friend and there’s a novelty tag that comes with him, one that can’t be topped by any material possession to your name. He’s there for you, not in the exact way you want him to be, but nonetheless there. He’s special and unattainable at the same time, the finiteness of his love barely extending to you.

He’s there when you want him to burn the latest songs onto a CD you’ve spent all your allowance in, and he’s there when you get annoyed that he sneaked some of his own recommendations in there. You’re there when you later admit that his suggestions aren’t half-bad, and you also happen to be there when he grins at the praise.

He’s there when Namjoon won’t cough up the last slice of his cutlet, not because he’ll actually give you his, but because he’ll help your brother guard his plate. You’d only have to mope for a solid of three seconds before the two of them give up both of their last slices, and you’re there when Yoongi insists for you to try the sauce in the spirit of going out of your routine.

You don’t need Yoongi every single time but in the event that you do, he hangs back. He contemplates and hesitates and doesn’t give in to every single whim that you have, but he’ll be there. He lingers like the last holiday ornament you don’t want to remove until it’s February, his presence being oddly similar to your favorite festivities.

Yoongi’s the equivalent of a holiday you look forward to with each passing month and day; he comes around to and for you in instances, but never even in your most sincere wishes.

“I buy one scratch ticket a week — three if I’m really feeling lucky. When my palms itch, that’s when I know that I really need to buy them.”

He’s calm and collected even when you’re scrunching your nose up at him in combined worry and disbelief, humming mindlessly as you collect your thoughts. He randomly told you about his lottery routine and you’re still trying to wrap your head around how he blows his money off just easily. Yoongi has the mind to put scrap cardboard under you because sitting on the hot concrete with your uniform on can’t possible be a good idea, but you try to play off your fluster into stubbornness.

He’s just playing with his two ever-present coins (lucky charms as he calls them)— one that’s shiny and minted in the present year, the other being the oldest coin he’s ever had that happens to be older than he is — while you mutter about.

“I don’t know, Yoongs. That might be a gambling problem,” you squint, your side comment being heard clearly as day. “Might be the symptoms for hand, foot, and mouth disease too.”

“What— I do not have a gambling problem! My skin’s perfectly fine too, thanks,” he defends, the light shove he gives you doing nothing to tone down your teasing.

“That’s what people with gambling problems say.”

“Give me that-…” he mutters, trying to wrestle you for the sundae he bought you using the money he won from his scratch ticket just awhile ago. You don’t give in easily, even if your laughs that come straight from your chest suggest otherwise. “You don’t get it. It’s just this nice, fun little thing I can look forward to every week. I always buy the cheapest version anyway so when I lose, it’s not a big deal.”

You relent (like you always do when it comes to Yoongi) in understanding, waving him off after regaining your breath. “Nah. I get it. We all have to do things so we wouldn’t lose our shit,” you trail, racking your head to find the right words.“Yours is buying scratch tickets, and mine is-…”

“Yours is what?” Yoongi raises an eyebrow, lips quirked in eagerness to know where you’re going with this. He can’t pinpoint a single thing he can attach to you and neither can you, your actual interests merely reflecting those of the people whom you love.

You love cross-stitching because your mom loves doing it, the tolerance you have for accidentally being pricked by the needle growing over time.

You enjoy playing badminton because Namjoon’s obsessed with the sport, no matter how ratty your rackets and shuttlecocks have become, and no matter how much he pushes you to ring the doorbell to your neighbor’s when he’s sent it flying to their backyard.

You’re probably an imposter yet you don’t feel like it. You don’t feel bad that your life most probably and will only revolve around your mom and Namjoon (maybe even Yoongi); you don’t feel dissatisfied that your life’s mundane. 

You go where your love goes.

“Mine is watching you buy scratch tickets,” you shrug easily as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, making him laugh heartily. You’ve probably done something right because he hauls you up to your feet immediately.

“Get up. I’m buying you your first ticket,” he nudges you, grabbing you by the arm in excitement.

“But I’m not even legal!” you half-heartedly argue, internally excited that you’re finally getting to try your hand at the lottery because you’ve spent a few hundred minutes of your life tuned to the channel to pass the time, awaiting the results for something you haven’t even betted for.

“Right. Like I haven’t seen you trying to squeeze out a drop of beer from our empty cans whenever Namjoon and I drink.”

“Rude,” you roll your eyes playfully, gathering your things from the ground.

“It’s okay. I’ll give you your first sip of beer too if you want,” Yoongi offers sincerely; easily as if you’ve just asked him about the weather.

He’s here to buy you your first scratch ticket, and he’s still here to offer giving you your first sip of liquor in the future.

Your family friend for a cashier vehemently ignores the fact that you’re still underage to participate in the lottery, and instead only chuckles to herself in amusement. She’s an aunt that knows when to step in and not to, and she knows you won’t be harmed by a mere bet. In fact, she knows you won’t be harmed by anything with Yoongi in tow.

“I already used up all my change,” your frown in realization, holding the ticket in your hands in despair despite having scoured your wallet repeatedly.

“Rub it against the pavement. That’s what I do,” Yoongi lies fluidly, a scoff being caught in his throat when you actually attempt to do it.  “I was only kidding, Y/N. Jeez,” he groans, pulling out his wallet. “Ugh. Here. You can have one of my lucky coins.”

It’s the old one, tarnished beyond relief that you can barely recognize what it’s actual value is supposed to be.

“Ew. I’m giving it back. It looks prehistoric,” you narrow your eyes, knowing that you don’t even have to put your fingers nears your nose to know that it’s already left a faint stench on them.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, a habit he can’t tell he’s formed himself or got from you. “If you use your brain for one second, you’d realize that it’s actually worth more because it’s older. Collectors would go crazy for that in the future.”

“That sounds like a hoarding problem.”

He’s just had about enough of your whining so he attempts to trade in the old coin for his lucky new one, but you stop him at the last minute with a meek smile.

“Kidding. Thank you. I’ll keep it safe, Yoongi. I promise,” you rush out before he changes his mind, scratching your ticket in silence.

He waits for you because you’re scratching so politely and neatly, a stark opposite to his experienced skill of scratching the paint off in ten strokes or less.

Your face is too close to the ticket that Yoongi can’t tell what’s happening, making him part your hair like a curtain to peek.

“Did you win?”

“Nope.”

“Let me throw that out for you.”

“No!” you squeak, keeping the ticket close to your chest. It’s a bummer that your first time is a loss, but it didn’t mean that you wanted to forget the sentiment behind it. “I-I mean no, I’ll keep it. It’s memorable now that I think about it.”

“Alright,” he shrugs carelessly, a smile breaking out in retaliation. “Hoarder.”

“Gambler,” you spit, tucking the ticket into your pencil case. “Next week again?”

Yoongi agrees, wrapping his head around the fact that he doesn’t have to be alone in his little routine every Friday.

“Sure.”

( ♡ )

You don’t mind getting hand-me-downs.

As a matter of fact, you love receiving them. The wear and tear of the things that came before you is only proof that it’s been loved enough to be passed on to you.

You adore your mother’s dainty vintage watch that she wore throughout college, the hardware and sentiment behind it being pretty enough that you don’t mind constantly getting the battery replaced. You like Namjoon’s shirts that he’s outgrown, even through the numerous phases he’s had wherein only denim and tie-dye filled his closet.

You don’t mind the history behind the numerous things you have in your home, unbothered that you’re probably the only house in the block with the oldest possible rice cooker. The chips in the staircase aren’t covered up with marker ink and neither are the loose stitches in the couch quilt snipped off. It’s home to your mother and Namjoon — if it’s good enough for them, then it’s already the best for you.

Even on top of everything, you don’t mind your family almost always getting you shirts and shoes that have an allowance in them. Your mom would go to Seoul and pick out the exact pair of sneakers you wanted that are atleast three sizes bigger than your actual feet, and you’d barely bat an eye. 

You don’t mind the coziness of things that are brought to you, because even if they weren’t offered, you’d seek them yourself. 

So when Yoongi mentioned that he’s decluttering his room and needed someone (read: you) to vacuum it up for him, you jump at the chance. You take a grocery bag with you, wear the nearest pair of slippers within your vicinity, and book it to his house as soon as he finished talking.

“Go crazy, kid. Almost everything in that pile is garbage so you can take anything.”

“I feel like I should be more offended than how I feel right now,” you hum, furrowing your eyebrows at the pile in front of you. It’s a mound of Yoongi, or atleast everything he’s ever wanted up until he decided to do a general cleaning of his bedroom.

Yoongi chuckles, going through his pile of clean laundry for him to fold on the side while you scavenge for his things. “It’s either I have you take them or I get ripped off at the thrift store, then I see somebody’s uncle wearing my shirt as an added insult.”

You huff, rummaging through his heap of belongings while conveniently trying to ignore that you may look like somebody’s uncle the moment you wear his clothes. Everything is him; every distressed cap, every unfinished embroidered shirt, and every item of old significance with his initials branded on it.

The thick gray hoodie you’ve been eyeing (along with its owner) for the better part of the last few years surfaces into your field of vision, your gasp audible enough to make him jolt because he thought you’d gotten hurt.

“No way, this too? But this is your favorite,” you half-complain and half-rejoice, turning the hoodie inside-out eagerly in the fear that there’s a catch to it belonging in the pile.

“Eh. I know it looked good on me but I don’t think it’s my favorite. Besides, I’ve bulked up! Wanna feel?” Yoongi grins, his segue eerily similar to your brother’s at every given chance. A neighbor from down the block recently opened a small-time gym, and the both of them have not been able to shut their mouths about it since. From their gossiping alone, Yoongi and Namjoon have generated enough advertising already.

“You and Namjoon really have to stop asking random people to feel your biceps.”

There’s random knick-knacks throughout the clump in the middle of his bed, some being too good and actually useful that you snag them. Yoongi lets you do what you want anyways (most of the time), not having to turn his head to berate you on what you’re only allowed to grab from his stuff.

You’re not greedy — you already have his hoodie and that should be enough on its own. But there’s that handkerchief with his initials embroidered on it, then that Rubik’s cube he swore his relative got for him from New York, and even the little butterfly knife he got from a souvenir shop when his family when to the beach.

There were those and there is this, looking up at you in all of its glory.

“Yoongi.” 

“What now?” he sighs at your dramatic gasp, looking up from his folded laundry to see what you were going on about. It takes a second for him to fully realize why exactly were you so pumped.

“Are you serious? Your helmet?” you squeal, already hugging the shiny red mass close to you. “Does this mean you’re passing your motorcycle to me?!”

“Are you crazy? Fuck no,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, snatching his helmet back from you. He doesn’t miss the bratty frown that fills up your entire face; he’s not exactly the biggest fan whenever you were upset or angry; maybe even both. “Obviously I forgot I even put my helmet there when I made that pile.”

You whine, stomping your feet in exasperation. You would dramatically plop down on his bed if only it wasn’t full of his shit. “Come on! You told me you were teaching me as soon as you finish teaching Joon.”

“Teaching you how to ride my scooter is not the same as giving you it. Why would I just hand you what I bought with my hard-earned money?” Yoongi scrunches his nose, tone sharper than what he intended.

“But you still haven’t taught me,” you murmur to placate yourself and dissuade yourself from the delusion that Yoongi would even exert such an effort for you because of course — why would he do that for you?

You have an inkling that you’re being irrational for all the wrong reasons, perhaps even projecting your need to be looked after… by him.

Yoongi notices your mood that turned sour quickly, the silence between you becoming loaded. He didn’t mean to be that blunt. “I don’t think you’re even old enough to have your driving permit,” he adds in consolation, voice considerably softer.

You snicker lowly, still looking at your feet with your arms crossed. “But I’m old enough to backpack whenever you need me to carry shit that can’t fit in your carrier.”

He immediately groans at your comeback, his furrowed eyebrows mirroring yours. “You’re so stubborn.”

“You’re a hypocrite,” you retort, knowing for a fact he’s known how to drive even before he was eligible for permits and licenses and whatnot. 

Yoongi takes one, two seconds to himself to regain his composure, clearing his head in the process. You’re still not looking at him and you’re pouting and you don’t even notice the latter, making him crack a small smile.

“I will teach you next week.”

“Oh my-…”

He cuts you off, raising his hand in emphasis. “Provided that you listen to everything I say and wear full gear at all times. You clearly don’t have a job yet-…”

“Ouch.”

“And I don’t have the extra money to buy full gear for myself, so what you’ll do is bundle up with your padded coat and the thickest jeans you have,” Yoongi enunciates every word, eyes keenly on you. They’re too wide and alert, you actually feel like listening to him.

“You go on rides wearing your pajamas.”

“Just say ‘thank you, Yoongi’.” 

“You haven’t done anything yet,” you trail off, head tilting in confusion. 

You’ve had a million conversations like this with Yoongi before but of different fonts; worn, familiar, and warm.

“Thank you, Yoongi,” he mouths, nodding at you to do the same. He won’t stop until you utter them back to him, and you know you won’t go home either without giving him your gratitude as you always do.

“Thank you, Yoongi,” you relent, the grin that breaks through your lips being infectious enough that he laughs lowly to himself.

He exhales all the worries he has and could possibly ever have seeing you ride the motorcycle (or for you yearning to do everything that he does), grasping at whatever sanity he has left from looking after you.

“You can have the helmet.”

( ♡ )

Yoongi knows the ins and outs of your home.

He’s been at your house too much to the point that your mom already gave him a spare key and nobody batted an eye about it. He has his own designated slippers at the entryway too, something you would only use in a hurry if you needed to sign off on a package.

Yoongi, for some reason unfathomable (not really; you can tell exactly why because your mom is an extremely warm and inviting person), also has the power of dibs on the food in your fridge. He’d put strips of masking tape with his name on food that’s neither brought in nor made for him in the first place. 

It should be off-putting — the way that for too many yet too little reason, Yoongi has become a prominent figure in your life even if you didn’t ask him to. You should be peeved that you have to set up four plates more often that you set up only three; you should be annoyed at some point that when you wake up at random times through the night, you’re not totally alone to begin with.

You shouldbe angry at Yoongi to a degree because he’s in your life and you don’t get to have a say on how he stays in it. The only problem is that you’re not, and probably never will.

“Can’t sleep?” you mutter as you look up from your strikingly clear paper, seeing Yoongi strut across the floor with a casualness that only real occupants of the house should supposedly possess. He has his brows furrowed at you as if he didn’t expect to see you in your living room, scratching his head in wonder.

“Why are you up?”

“Stressed,” you sigh, giving up altogether in attempting to make yourself look busy. Yoongi drives by your fridge to get himself a can of beer, finally seating himself beside you on the floor. 

“Stressed about what? I’m sure it’s not about studying,” he snorts, unsurprised at your paper and the clear lack of motivation behind it. You only roll your eyes at him and he has half a mind to not remind you to not do it so much, the frown in your face reminding him that you really were frustrated.

It is you to throw the occasional tantrum, but he remembers that it was only when you were young; when Namjoon would whisper gibberish to his ear and purposely not whisper to yours just so he could tease you, or when nobody would believe that you taught yourself how to ride a bike with no training wheels. You didn’t know how to do the latter at all, but what had made you throw a tantrum was that nobody believed you.

You notice Yoongi’s digs, of course. You notice each one of his more than unsubtle nods to your intelligence and whatnot, the shots at your intellect not flying over your head like he expected them to.  You admit that you’ve never been that scholastic; you weren’t born a genius and you don’t try exactly hard either.

Yoongi’s only joking but you can’t help but to think that he’s pertaining to something deeper, his constant digs at your lack of a passion making you sluggish.

“We have to write this essay,” you answer simply, your tone straightforward and unwilling for banter but Yoongi bites anyway.

“But essays are the easiest,” he trails, looking at you the whole time as he takes a sip of his beer.

You exhale heavily because no matter what, he just can’t seem to get it. Yoongi knows where you’re coming from but he doesn’t know where you’re headed. As a matter of fact, you don’t know where you’re headed either. “We have to write an essay about where we see ourselves ten years from now.”

“But that’s still easy.”

“If it’s so easy, then go write it for me,” you snicker, leaning back with a huff. He constantly undermines you and although you own up to your striking mundaneness from time to time, it didn’t mean that you liked being looked down on. Yoongi’s too used to you being yourself, he gets taken aback when you grow sick of your own.

He gathers all his willpower, far from being sleepy unlike you who would’ve been lulled to sleep if only you weren’t dead-set on arguing with him. “You know what? I actually will,” he claps, handing you his beer. “Go hold this for me.”

Yoongi grips your pen for dear life like you hold his beer, his hand warm as he works from sheer determination alone (he’s not competing with anyone except for whatever expectation you have for him and your paper), while yours was cold just holding his drink.

You’ve been so quiet that he actually gets curious, turning his head to check to see if you’ve dozed off when actually, it’s just you eyeing the can.

“No one’s watching,” Yoongi breaks you out of your thoughts, carelessly shrugging. He cares and he’s far too concerned for you, but he figures that nothing would hurt you so long as he can grasp you. “It’s okay. You can have your first sip.”

You blink owlishly at him and when he jokes about taking it back, you take your first swig of beer in a panic. Yoongi only shakes his head in amusement, pausing his writing just to see the look on your face.

“One more?” he asks right after he sees you wince, the unbearable sweetness yet bitter, stinging aftertaste of the beer making you shudder. 

You have the urge to wash off the taste with ice cold water (you’ll even drink from the tap because you’re so desperate), but you resist it just so you wouldn’t look like a weakling in front of him. You wave him off with a bitterness, upset that beer doesn’t taste like what you’ve always imagined it to be. “Just write my essay for me,” you mull over the taste in your tongue, in deep thought while you stare at Yoongi’s back ahead of you. “Do all beers taste that way?”

“Eh. Most of them do. You develop a taste for it later on,” he answers, taking the can back from you before drinking it himself. He looks too dedicated in writing your essay, only goading the curiosity in you to peek over his shoulder.

He knows you, both in heart and memory, because he shields your own paper from you when he sees your shadow hovering above him.

“Yoongi?”

“Hm.”

“I told you why I’m up. Why are you up?”

He’s silent entirely, the only indication that he heard your question being his hand pausing abruptly. Yoongi doesn’t answer, and you don’t ask again. “Don’t worry about it.”

You take his answer to heart, dozing off on the couch before you know it. You don’t remember a blanket being placed on you, nor can you remember preparing your backpack for school the next day.

Your paper’s neatly tucked into your portfolio bearing handwriting that’s clearly not yours, but with a sentiment that’s similar nonetheless. You read through everything quickly before even stepping towards your teacher, the tips of your fingers just as cold as Yoongi’s beer last night.

You’ve committed the paper into your memory, even until the last part with an excerpt you can’t forget despite having passed the paper already. You don’t know what to feel because it’s Yoongi who’s speaking for you, detailing that ten years from now, you will still be your mother’s daughter and your brother’s sister.

He wrote your essay either for you or in behalf of you, and you can’t tell which one is better.

Yoongi, who knows the ins and outs of your home and the peaks and troughs of your heart, writes in clear handwriting — Ten years from now, I will still be Yoongi’s rock.

( ♡ )

Surprisingly, Yoongi hasn’t been around that much lately.

Even Namjoon (who you consider as his Siamese twin) is clueless to why his friend hasn’t been hanging out with him lately to do either everything or nothing, confused because they’re enrolled to the same classes all the way to the same part-time jobs, yet Yoongi’s been mostly unavailable.

When Yoongi is, however, he doesn’t speak at all about his previous absences. He comes as if he’s never disappeared a few times before that, his evasion to talk about his presence being apparent even if you’ve asked him directly.

You’re getting used to his new routine of hanging out with you only when the both of you are free, no longer moving mountains for both of your schedules to line up. He’s more present this month than he was at the last, the criteria for it being how many times you bump into him in your own home.

Despite all odds and evens though, Yoongi can’t get used to your silence. He knows you hold grudges longer than your brother, and the last time that he checked, he knows you’ve already let go of your annoyance for him suddenly being unavailable without any explanation. 

It’s late, only the two of you are awake in the living room, there’s ten scratch tickets on the table for you to share, and he’s even gotten you your own glass to which he’ll put a controlled amount (a grand total of two long sips) of his own beer in. You’re not stressing about an essay this time, but the unconscious pout on your face is still the same.

“You’re awfully quiet.”

The frown on your face only goes deeper at being found out, the scratch of your lucky coin being the only clear thing that Yoongi hears. 

“My best friends want to have this slumber party,” you sigh, more upset about what you’ve just uttered than you are happy about the cash prize you’ve just won.

Yoongi takes what you say at face-value, groaning at his third straight loss for the night. “That’s great. Wear cute pajamas, snap a couple of polaroids, don’t be the first to fall asleep and last to wake up, and just keep a pocket knife with you when you’re going out by yourself.” 

The awe (and slight concern) over what he said should roll in any time now.

You should be comforted at Yoongi’s words because they’re supposed to ease the swirl of your stomach, even if what he just said is a repackaged version of what your family said before. You should let go of your worries because Yoongi, of all people, says that it’s supposed to be great.

Instead, you feel neither of what you think Yoongi wants you to.

“Was it something I said?” he mumbles after some time, turning his nose up at you as he tries to retrace his words. “I have an extra pocket knife you can borrow if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“We’re gonna be talking about boys, Yoongi,” you screw your eyes shut, sighing into the palms of your hands with a heaviness. “We’re gonna talk about crushes and experiences and all that.”

He shudders at that, his reaction mirroring Namjoon’s when you tried opening up to him. You get your brother’s reaction to a degree, of course, because you feel as if you’d be disgusted too if the roles were reversed. You want to talk about it with your mom too, but at the end of the day, she’s your parent and you just can’t talk about anything and everything with her. 

Yoongi’s your next plausible option.

“Do you want some ice cream right now? You know what, I’ll buy you-…” Yoongi tries to evade the topic altogether, his attempt of escaping feeble as you drag him down by his hoodie.

“I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”

“Heh.”

Yoongi shrugs at that, regaining his words when you deadpan at him. “So? What about it?”

You starfish on the floor at that out of frustration, the whine you’ve been bottling up coming out in the open because as usual, Yoongi doesn’t get it. “I-I’m probably the only one in my grade who hasn’t kissed someone yet! I can’t just lie carelessly because obviously, they’ll ask around.”

“So?” Yoongi chuckles, his breeze towards your state shocking you. “What’s it to them if you haven’t had your first kiss?”

“You don’t get it,” you grit through your teeth, crossing your arms so hard that it feels hard to inhale.

“I’m pretty sure I do,” he sing-songs, drinking the last of his beer. When you’re not looking though, he plans to either drink or chuck the remainder of your share because he doesn’t want you to develop a taste for it.

The anger you have for Yoongi bubbles up once again, the itch in your throat unbearable. You’re presented with the age gap between you once more, along with the raging emptiness in you that Yoongi’s reached so far and you’ve reached so little.

“You don’t get it because you’ve had all of these experiences when you were younger than my age right now,” you snap, although you don’t look at him when you do. If you do look at him though, you’ll only be reminded of how a face like his could have everything in this world — even a first kiss you’ve never had.

“Yeah, and so?” he knits his brows, growing defensive. You weren’t lying at all, but he still feels a little offended at the dig. He’s not not proud of it, but with the way you say it, it’s like you want him to burn in shame,

“Stop saying so,” you angrily mumble in frustration, a little breathless because you still don’t ease up on crossing your arms.

Yoongi straightens his posture, staring you down with his jaw set. He’s stern as he is, nostrils flaring in irritation. “No, Y/N. I’m genuinely asking — so what? What’s it to you if I had my first kiss at a younger age? What about it if everyone else in your grade has kissed someone and you haven’t? It’s not the end of the world.”

“I-I don’t know! It’s just unfair!” you let up, yielding to both the facts that Yoongi’s right with it not being the end of the world, and that you’re still entitled to feeling upset.

“Instead of spending time obsessing over your first kiss, maybe I don’t know,  try being productive? You’re heading to college soon and you haven’t even thought of a career,” Yoongi goes off on you, making you roll your eyes automatically. There he goes again with the great big push of trying to push you into your supposed passions in life. “Someone else’s luck doesn’t mean it’s already your misfortune.”

“But it is.”

You say it so definitively, you almost convince him. You have your principles and so does Yoongi, but not everyone else. You have your principles yet you don’t have the luck. You’re not getting anywhere in life just like Yoongi or anyone else who was remotely born into wealth, no matter how quiet or obvious.

You can’t pursue something that interests you in the slightest without thinking what would come out of it. You can’t think of a degree and a course you’ll stick with, enough to do for the rest of your life because the only other option is to fail completely if you don’t. You have no plan and no passion and you don’t know if you’ll ever amount to anything to anyone at all.

By all means, you don’t agree with Yoongi this time. Someone else’s luck is your misfortune, in the same way that his first kiss doesn’t mean that it’s yours.

The sidetrack to your argument is a closed case already, judging by your downcast gaze. “I just have to put myself out there, that’s all. My first kiss doesn’t even have to mean anything. I just want to have it,” you admit, shoulders relaxing.

“Don’t,” Yoongi groans, the opposite of you as his whole body tenses.

He thinks that you don’t get him at all.

“What do you meandon’t?”

Your argument’s long-over (atleast you thought it was) but Yoongi’s getting more agitated by the minute, the disbelief on his face throwing you off. “Don’t do things just because you feel like you have to! Are you even hearing yourself right now?”

“I don’t want to be left behind, Yoongi! That’s all I’m trying to get at,” you raise your hands in surrender, shrugging thoughtlessly — it makes him want yell into a paper bag in exasperation. “I don’t want to be picked last. I don’t want to not be wanted.”

Yoongi exhales, screwing his eyes shut. It stays silent like that for a little while; him calming himself down, and you scratching your tickets. The calm doesn’t stay for long because you open your mouth carelessly, again.

“Can you be my first kiss?”

“Are you insane?”

“Ugh.”

You go back to your fourth scratch ticket, pouting in disappointment. You’re unfazed about the win that’s probably the largest sum you’ve had ever since you started doing the lottery.

You’re upset and you’re sick in the stomach but you stay silent like you never asked Yoongi to be your first kiss; it’s like you haven’t indirectly admitted to him that you love him enough, more than so, to want him to be your first.

You’re about to scratch the final ticket when Yoongi juts his hand out, fingers barely brushing yours to stop you.

“On second thought, don’t scratch that. Just keep it.”

“Because you want to turn me into a hoarder too?” you snicker, heeding his suggestion regardless.

“Because I’m not going to be right about everything,” Yoongi mumbles, looking at you with a solemnness you can’t decipher.

You try until the solemnness turns into pity.

“Still don’t want to be my first kiss?”

Yoongi softly laughs to your face, smiling as he lets you down — whether easily or harshly, you can’t tell.

“You already know what I’m going to say.”

( ♡ )

You’d like to think that you’re not kept in the dark about most things.

You already know that although your mom hasn’t had any relationships since your dad left, she still has plenty of suitors. Some of them are the reason why you have random food deliveries in the middle of the dinner that she’s already cooked, some have sucked up to her by getting you and Namjoon gifts. 

You know about Namjoon’s growing love for football, even with the lessons he takes in secret because he didn’t want to trouble your mom for the money. It’s why he does his part-time job and why you’re looking for one anyways. You don’t want nor need much, so you almost always give him the remainder of your allowance by the end of each week.

Yoongi, on the other hand, you don’t know much about. You know that he’s an only child with a doting mom who works overseas and a rich but emotionally unavailable dad at home, and that’s about it. His home life is synonymous with yours, considering that your four walls have become an extension of his.

Maybe you’ve become too lenient on him — either that, or he’s become too disrespectful. It’s at times like these where your house is not his home, sickeningly so that you don’t want it to be yours either.

Yoongi is a sight to behold as he makes out with a half-naked girl on your bed, in your room. Your room has never been the neatest but with everything going on, it feels that it’s become the dirtiest that it’s ever been. Your house slippers are on the floor even if you always leave them by the entryway, and your sheets are a mess despite being one of the only things you try to keep folded in the room.

You’re angry, too much to the point that the words get caught in your throat. They catch onto bile and venom and everything at once, the strain in your voice heard when you yell.

“What the fuck?!”

Yoongi and the girl, whom you figure out to be Hyewon that he’s shared his first kiss with, jolt in unison. Hyewon’s scared shitless while Yoongi’s annoyed to death, the grunt he lets out pricking your ears further. “Sorry, sorry. She’s my best friend’s sister. She’s so annoying,” he drags you out of your room before he even gives you the entitlement to storm out of there in a fit of rage, seeing red the longer that he seems upset at you.

“What the fuck was that, Yoongi?” you grit through your teeth, the moment of you seeing red turn into white because you’re so frustrated that you could actually cry. Your chest’s heavy, not only out of rage, but out of everything that’s built up in the course of years.

“Can you keep it down?” Yoongi seethes, pursing his lips. “What, would you rather see us do it in the living room?”

“In the — what? Who do you think you are? This isn’t even your house, why are you bringing these girls here?” you point an accusing finger at him yet he doesn’t back away, his annoyance for you only growing tenfold.

He’s in the wrong no matter which way you look at it yet he doesn’t realize it, the epiphany that Yoongi genuinely thinks he’s in the right for doing this to you making your skin burn in fire.

“This is literally the first time I’ve ever done this! I can’t bring her back to my place, my dad has guests over!”

“So your smartest idea is to fuck someone in my bed?”

“Oh, you’re welcome. It’s the most action your four walls have ever seen,” he spits sarcastically, eyes narrowing at you. It takes little effort for him to dig up what you came to him for in worry and it terrifies you. The facet of Yoongi who had sternly told you that it was okay to be left behind if it means getting what you deserve, resembling nothing like him at the moment.

“I can’t believe you!” you whisper as you tremble, the tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. “I told you that in confidence.”

“In confidence? It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you’re not exactly a catch, Y/N.”

You clench your jaw so hard that it hurts, you ball your fists so tightly that it stings.

You leave your home without saying another word.

.

.

.

Namjoon’s panicked.

He came home a little later than usual because he had maximized the life out of his soccer lessons, only getting the signal to leave when the lights were turned off. He was only slightly worried at the first place because he was supposed to cook dinner for the both of you, but he placated himself by realizing that you’re not the baby that he still thinks you are — you could cook dinner for yourself if you were hungry already.

He thinks nothing of it. In fact, he just makes a quick stop at the convenience store so the both of you could indulge in a liter of ice cream without your mom urging to leave some for another night. You could think of a recipe from scratch (and it almost always works out at the end), so Namjoon walked in fully thinking he’ll get to sniff whatever concoction you have.

Except, he walks into a completely dark house, and that’s when he panics.

He can’t find your slippers by the entryway and you’re not in your room either. You’re not at the other convenience store hunched over taking your chances on scratch tickets, and you’re not out on the street either going people-watching.

The panic rises in him the more that Namjoon grasps this is the first time that this has ever happened and he doesn’t know why. He’s always made an effort to be absorbed into both your personal and academic affairs, and as far as he knows, you’re neither in a sleepover nor on a field trip somewhere.

Namjoon thinks it’s his fault someway somehow, and the guilt can’t fully dissipate from him until he sees you.

“Hey, Yoongi,” he breathlessly gasps the moment his friend answers, the latter being surprised because he thought it was you who was calling him after what happened awhile ago.

It’s his fault and he’s realized that hours too late, and the selfish part of him thinks that it’s you calling at ten in the evening begging for forgiveness.

“What’s up, man? It’s late,” he wonders out loud, thinking for a second if they were too much of the Siamese twins that you tease them to be because he can’t think of a rational reason why Namjoon would call him at this time of night.

Namjoon raggedly exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’m just wondering if you’ve seen Y/N by any chance?”

Yoongi’s heart drops so loudly that Namjoon thought for second that his friend had hung up on him, his urgency being shared the moment that he asked.

“What? Y/N isn’t home?” Yoongi asks in disbelief, immediately being filled with anxiety and disbelief. Just awhile ago, the two of you were arguing outside of your room. He did hear you leave, but he had fully expected for you to be back hours ago. He’s wracked with guilt all over, the drop in his chest amplified by the pit in his stomach.

“She’s not. Practice ran late and I-I know she’s responsible so I didn’t hurry home,” Namjoon recalls, being more and more frazzled by the second. “She left her phone here, and mom isn’t here either because she’s visiting my grandparents, a-and I don’t want to call her because I know she’ll be worried, a-and-…”

Yoongi interrupts him, the tremble in his fingers only enabling him to dig his nails into his palm deeper. “I’m coming over. Let’s look for her together.”

It barely takes a minute for the both of them to come together, not even exchanging any pleasantries with each other before Yoongi steps on the gas. 

Namjoon’s filled with guilt, the type that only a sibling could carry as a burden. He thinks he was too selfish — too accustomed to pulling your own weight that it must have given you the impression that you had no other choice but to. Whatever it was that made you leave out of the blue, Namjoon thinks he could’ve done more. He should’ve came home and made you dinner as promised, for starters. He’s guilty over the fact that he’s the only close familial male figure in your life and he let this happen, as he makes Yoongi put his headlights on high-beam, scanning for anyone that looks remotely like you.

Yoongi, on the other hand, is filled with a guilt he can’t even begin to explain. It corrodes him from the inside-out in realization that he’s to blame for your sudden disappearance, the fact that Namjoon comes to him first to help find you not helping at all. If only your brother knew what he had done to you, he’s positive that he’ll be on the receiving end of a punch — what gets him more is that Yoongi wouldn’t blame him at all.

They see you in the bus stop two cities away, dressed in the same clothes you ran out with. 

Namjoon’s relieved beyond compare while Yoongi’s fuming, his hands tucked inside his jacket to prevent himself from squeezing you into an embrace; neither of you deserve it. 

There’s an underlying anger within Namjoon, one that lies behind the back of his throat as he checks you over for any injuries. The two of you walk ahead to Yoongi’s car while he himself trails behind, his heart significantly calmer than it was the past hour, yet nowhere near normal.

“Wanna tell me what you did?” your brother hums, trying to exhale the worry that’s embedded into him with each squeeze he gives around your shoulders.

“Went to the convenience store, bumped into my friends, then we took this impromptu roadtrip to go to the night market, then we all had our first actual shot of liquor and not just beer, my friend who owns the car turned out to be a lightweight, and now everyone just has to commute home,” you narrate in recollection, squeezing Namjoon back to try and ground him.

“Okay,” he answers simply, nodding. “Wanna tell me what happened before you did all those things?”

The breathless chuckle that leaves you is empty, void of any amusement at all. You smile nonetheless, unable to placate both yourself and Namjoon. “Nope.”

You arrive in silence to Yoongi’s car, the words unsaid between the three of you generating more tension than your brief disappearance itself.

Yoongi opens the front door for you, but you settle for sitting in the backseat.

#HOW R WE FEELING TARGET AUDIENCE!!! :O #yoongi imagine #yoongi oneshot #yoongi oneshots #yoongi series #yoongi angst #yoongi angst imagine #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi au #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi scenario #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #bts yoongi imagine #bts yoongi x reader

[em-writes-stuff-sometimes]

hi em! been off the app lately cuz i've been lazy but i'm so glad i'm seeing u on my dash again <3 i can't express it properly but i missed you so so so much !! hope u can give us some sneak peaks of ur next work hihi (no rush maybe just some hints of what to expect)

Hello, nonnie! I'm glad to be on the dash again! YAY! I've missed being online and interacting with peeps, it was quiet but a bit lonely offline.

I've actually got a snippet here that is HIGHLY work-in-progress, doesn't quite slot into my story so far and might need to go through a couple edits/adjustments before finally being incorporated, but still. Hope you like the direction I'm taking it!

Trigger warnings: uncle-niece incest, medieval daddy kink, suggested (though not actual) quasi-Electra complex, psychological fuckery.

Yes, he thinks to himself, struck by your light-hearted praise, your simple joy. Your innocence, near cloying. I could be her ‘papa’.

He decides to test his theory one evening. The babes are with Rhaenyra; those insipid ladies of yours are abed or in the Sept or wherever-the-fuck; the servants have long since left after stoking the fires and turning down the bedsheets. There is no better time.

“Here.” After pressing a parcel into your hands, he waits as your brow furrows and a half smile pulls at your lips, as your fingers move to unearth the object inside, as your frown deepens while you examine what it is he has given you.

“What is it?” You pull the fabric wrappings away, fully revealing the cloth doll. For all the simplicity of its form, it is the finest specimen coin could buy—pale spun wool for hair, amethyst button eyes, silk embroidery, velvet gown. Your palm cups its head like you cup your babes’ heads. You glance up at him. “Oh. For Aelys?”

“No. For you.”

You had outgrown soft toys at a frightfully early age, preferring instead to cart about your small collection of dolls carved from wood and finely painted. He’s not entirely sure you ever possessed one of cloth.

You laugh, a sharp, strange sound, shaking your head. “I—I have no need for dolls, kepus. I am a woman grown, and a mother at that!”

He can hear the slow burgeoning of agitation in your voice, low as it is. Good. The corner of his mouth curves up. “A display of gratitude would suffice.”

“Gra—Is this some sort of game?” you ask. He cocks his head at the tone—the hostility. Curious. He’d barely done anything. You huff, rising from the bed and busying yourself by smoothing out your skirts, breaking eye contact. You stare over at the empty cradle. “I do not wish to play.”

“No game.” Daemon cannot help but notice that, for all your apparent ire, you still clutch the doll to you like it is something precious. “Call it… speculation, if you must.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Really, my girl. You’re far too vexed for a thing so trite. Perhaps I’ve struck upon a source of turmoil.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

You stubbornly refuse to look his way as he rises, his height outstripping yours easily. Barely perceptible is the subtle way your shoulders seem to shrink inward, protecting the vulnerable flesh of your throat as though he means to strike. He notices.

“Don’t you?” he asks. His fingers brush your jaw. When you jerk away, he moves instinctively to clamp your chin between thumb and finger, halting your churlish rebellion. “I’m not blind, you know—to your envy.”

Your nostrils flare despite your valiant attempts at composure. “Envy?”

Almost. You are truly angry now, he thinks. The ideal temperament to bait you into an admission. He lets his head fall, his nose skimming across your temple, featherlight. You shiver at his touch.

“Yes,” he murmurs. “Of your own children, no less. I see it. You desire the attention I give to them, is that it?” You react viscerally to that, but he is quicker; one hand presses you to his chest by the scruff of the neck and the other grabs just below your rear. It is enough to topple you into him. He hums as he seats himself back down upon the edge of the bed, pulling you onto his lap, his knee bouncing below you. “No. You desire the same attention. I’m their father—and where’s yours? Where he’s always been. Not here. Not for you. Never for you.”

Your indignant squirming ceases, and he hears the hitch in your breath before you deign to speak. “Stop it. Stop. That—that’s cruel.”

Ah, fuck. Too far. He changes course.

“Sh… I know, I know. I understand. Come.” He keeps his voice soft, the sharpest of daggers seeking the yielding flesh between ribs.

Gathering you close, head tucked under his chin, rump to thigh, his hand soothing between your shoulders, he says, “Papa’s here, sweetling.”

Your stomach feels as though it has dropped cleanly through your body, past your feet and into the ground.

Papa’s here, sweetling. Papa’s here, sweetling. Papa. Papa. Papa.

At first, you know not what to do. Scramble off and yell? Pretend you did not hear him? Dive for the sheets, block the world out? Your blood feels like ice in your veins. Your eyes prickle uncomfortably. You are frozen.

Daemon speaks again, palm like a brand through the thin layer of your shift. “There’s no shame in it. In wanting this.”

The urge to flee washes over you once more, building in your bones, threatening to spring you from his hold. “I—”

“Ah.” A sharp, barking vowel of remonstration, the sound a kennelmaster might use to bring his pack to heel.

The sound a father uses to correct a wilful child, your mind supplies unhelpfully.

“Besides,” he continues, casual in his cruelty, sweet poison on the tip of his tongue. And it is cruel, surely it is, it must be, surely it is the very worst, most horrible thing he has ever done, made you small, made you insignificant, made you wish for— “You don’t have a choice. Little girls are meant to abide by their papas, are they not?”

A small, churlish part of you rankles at his words, snapping your head up to glare before you can remember why it is you had been so steadfastly avoiding his stare. The indignation fades as you look upon him. In his eyes, you see what he does not say. A softening.

Tell me to stop, it says, and I will. Deny me if you must, but only if it is truly what you desire.

Almost without sanction, you shudder. You wilt, there is no other word for it, melting like ice in the sun, dripping, limbs trickling to water as you sink properly into Daemon’s waiting arms. They fold around you, over you like they had known to expect you here, like this.

 Nothing has changed. Everything has changed. The room is bigger, or you are diminished, startlingly exposed, raw like burnt skin. Your lower lip wobbles.

“Papa,” you whisper, higher and more timorous than you have ever sounded. His arms tighten. You feel him nodding above you.

“That’s right,” he says, smooth in its devastation. Full of warmth, kindness, a muted sympathy. Poor little orphan child. Dead mother, father scarcely worth the name. All alone. It feels like an old wound, one that has never truly healed, something to live with but to never forget. “You’re mine. My babe, aren’t you?”

“But—but ‘m not.” A bizarre urge to beat your fists against his chest and wail washes over you. Regret? Resentment? Rage? You know not. “Rhaenar and—and Aelys—”

“Are mine—as you are mine.” Fingers and thumb pinch your jaw, drag it up. Daemon’s expression is set firm, tender but no less resolved. My word is your law, it says. “I have my heirs. I can have a sweet little girl, too.”

For a split second, you imagine what it might have been like if he had been your father instead—

(If it were Daemon, not Viserys, who had sired you. There would have been no septa to chastise your every failing. No threat of marriage to force your hand. Anything you had asked for—anything you desired—would be yours, scarcely a question asked. And, perhaps most damning of all, he would have given you every scrap, every iota of the attention, the care you have always felt so greedy in wanting. You would never have cause to wonder if your father loved you.)

—And, in that fleeting moment, you find yourself wishing that he had been. That he really was your papa, and not just your uncle, not just your husband. The thought makes your heart thud and your stomach lurch, your limbs acting on that swooping sensation to try and rise from his knee.

“That’s enough,” he says, dragging you back and turning your head into his neck, firm, unyielding, other hand coming down just a little too hard above your backside to be gentle. A warning. “You’re thinking too much. Sh.”

Still, you struggle. “I don’t—”

“You don’t need to think. Empty your head. Let Papa take over.”

It is like you needed permission for it before your body truly relaxes. The tears spill over your lashes, not sorrowful, no, but relieved. You let him adjust you how he likes—little girl, he says, you’re a little girl and it’s not your choice now—arm banding beneath your knees and oh, now you truly do feel little, small and young and yielding, tucked in as baby bird in a nest might be. Cradled like an infant in his grasp, it is warm and safe as it always is, but now that feeling you have never been able to reach out and name has its proper form.

I am just a babe. It slinks through your mind like a single thread in a tapestry, innocuous and necessary for the whole image to come together. I am just his babe now. Above you, Daemon voices much the same.

“That’s it… good girl…”

This is a VERY early draft for jorraeliarzus (beloved), the next instalment in my terms of endearment series. Please be aware that it might not make it into the final version without significant editing.

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x you #daemon x oc #daemon x you #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #got fanfiction #asoiaf fanfiction #a song of ice and fire fanfiction #terms of endearment │ daemon targaryen x reader

[acciopietro]

Hi, I have a request.

So like Pietro and the reader are in a relationship and Pietro is really insecure about him being not able to give reader enough gifts and attention. (Reader is from a wealthy family)

He's scared that Reader could leave him for a wealthier person than him. Reader reassure Pietro that they won't leave him.

Yea, so angsty & fluff.

The reader can be gender neutral, I don't really care.

Thanks, I love how you write

Have a nice day.

anything from you - p.m.

pairing: pietro maximoff x gn! reader

summary: pietro’s unsure whether or not he’s enough

word count: 1662

tw: no!

a/n: this was such a cute idea! i apologize for how short this is, i'm trying to clear out my drafts LOL! this is unedited so if u see any grammar or spelling mistakes lmk!!!! <3

"I CAN'T ACCEPT THIS," PIETRO'S mouth had fallen agape at the sight of the small box he opened, resting it on his lap. The light flashed off of the glittering silver of the watch inside, it's glass face perfectly clear, so well made that it looked like there was nothing there. "This is... this is very expensive gift."

"You have to accept it," you grinned, shrugging your shoulders. "I saw it and thought you'd like it."

"Yes, and I-- I do, but..." Pietro opened and closed his mouth like a fish. "I have never worn something so expensive before."

"Firsts for everything!" you giggled and gave him a bashful smile. He pursed his lips, melting at the sweetness of your face, and glanced back down at the watch. Your face sunk a bit at his hesitation, and you grabbed the bag that previously held the box. "I can return it, if you don't like it."

"No, I... I love it," Pietro grabbed ahold of your hand, smoothing his thumb over the top of your knuckles before bringing it to his lips and kissing it. "Multumesc, dragă."

---

“AHA!” Pietro mumbled to himself, pulling his hand out from behind the couch cushion of the couch in the Avengers Compound’s foyer, another quarter pinched between his fingers. He was lucky enough to live there and earn a decent wage, but he certainly did not have as much disposable income as say, Tony Stark, or even Y/N L/N. 

“Pietro,” came Wanda’s voice from behind him, her tone slow as though she were confused. He turned his head to see her standing there, arms crossed over her chest, eyebrow raised. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Right now, I am counting,” he said, sitting down and dumping out his pocket, muttering the numbers under his breath. “I have a total of twenty-three dollars and...seventy-three cents. But then once I add the money from my wallet, I’ll have about...”

“What do you need this for?” Wanda sauntered over, sitting across from him and his measly pile of dented dollar bills and dirty coins. Pietro didn’t respond, still counting in his head.

“Sixty-five dollars and eighty-two cents,” Pietro nodded his head, muttering under his breath. “That might be enough...”

“Nice watch,” Wanda complimented. “From Y/N, yes?”

“Yeah,” Pietro muttered, rubbing the band of it with his thumb. “They are very generous.”

“I see.”

“I want to buy them something,” Pietro told his sister. “But... I cannot really afford something very expensive, you know? So maybe something for fifty dollars. Or maybe more, but I... I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you just make them something? Or take them some place nice?”

“I could,” Pietro scratched his chin, dropping his shoulders in exhaustion. “But they’re always buying me things, I feel like I need to return the favor.”

“You don’t owe them anything, though,” Wanda told him gently. “Just because they buy you all these things doesn’t mean you need to buy them things, it just means you need to gift them with other things. Experiences, homemade things... as long as there is love in it, no?”

“I am not wealthy like them,” Pietro sighed. “What if they think I am using them for their money? I need to show them that --”

“They do not think that,” Wanda gave him a gentle look. “They love you, trust me. I was with them when they picked out that watch for you.”

“Yeah, well,” Pietro didn’t have much to say in response to that. “They’d be better off with someone who can afford to take care of them.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Wanda shook her head. “You take care of them just fine.”

“Hmph,” Pietro only shrugged and began to leave the room. “Maybe. But they could do better.”

---

“Wanda?” you said, poking your head into the kitchen. Said woman stood over a steaming pot, stirring the contents with a long wooden spoon. Vision glided into the room, holding onto a container of paprika looking triumphant. 

“Found it!” he said cheerfully. He turned his head and grinned at the sight of you. “Oh, hello, Y/N. Did you want some paprikash?”

“Maybe later, thanks Vision,” you smiled. “Have either of you seen Pietro?”

“Uhm, I’d assume he’d be in his room,” Wanda guessed.

“No, he’s not in there,” you frowned, sitting on one of the bar stools. “I’ve been looking around for him all day. I think he’s avoiding me.”

You knew Wanda and Vision shared a glance, but you were too busy staring down at the ring on your finger to say anything. Pietro had gotten it for you in the early stages of your relationship; you hadn’t the slightest clue where it was from or if the gems were real, but it was beautiful and fit like a glove. That was all that mattered, anyways. You twisted it around on your finger, frowning.

“Did I upset him?” you asked Wanda. “Has he said anything to you?”

Wanda gave a quick, almost unnoticeable glance at Vision. “Erm... he’s not upset at you, no.”

“What is it, then?” you pressed. There was a pregnant pause of silence.

“Look, I think you should talk to him,” Wanda trailed off, her brows slowly raising as she glanced behind you. Vision did nothing, however he was not slick about the way his eyes widened and he mouthed, “Go!”

You whipped your head around, and before you set eyes on Pietro, the blur of his red sweatshirt caught your eye and you knew he had run off. You sighed, running a hand across your scalp. 

“Sorry,” Vision apologized to you, bowing his head. “It’s... it’s your business, you and him.”

“Yes, I know,” you sighed again. “Thanks, I guess.”

“We’ll save some paprikash for you!” Wanda called out to you as you disappeared down the hallway. The lights of Pietro’s room were on, and you could hear the soft sound of a record playing from outside the door. It was Billy Joel’s The Stranger, one of his favorite American records; you had bought it for him, along with Songs in the Key of Life by Stevie Wonder and Goodbye Yellow Brick Road by Elton John. 

With “Vienna” playing from the old record player, you creaked open the door. Pietro was at his desk, hunched over a piece of paper with a ballpoint pen in his hand. He was humming along softly under his breath, scribbling away and not noticing you. You walked up behind him and put a hand on his arm, bending over to place your chin on his shoulder. He jumped.

“You scared me,” he muttered, hastily folding up the paper and shoving it into a drawer. “Did you knock?”

“No, sorry,” you drew your face away from him, glancing at where he hid the paper. “Did you want me to leave?”

“I--” he hesitated. “No, I don’t.”

“Okay,” you rocked on your toes for a second before crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed. “You okay? Whatcha doing?”

“Just drawing,” he sighed, putting the pen down and leaning back in his chair. “Bored, I guess.”

“Haven’t seen you all day,” you continued.

“Been tired,” he lied through his teeth.

“Yeah, okay,” you scoffed. “You slept for like ten hours.”

Pietro’s lips quirked up. “Yeah, true.”

“What’s going on?” you asked bluntly, patting the empty space on the bed beside you. Pietro eyed it for a second, as though hesitating, before getting up and taking a seat beside you, his knees resting against yours, shoulders pressed against one another. You lifted your hand, running it through his hair. “What’s goin’ on in that brain of yours?”

“Just...” Pietro paused. “Don’t you ever... aren’t you ever upset that I can’t... that I can’t really do stuff for you?”

You furrowed your brows, unsure what he meant.

“Like this watch,” Pietro ran his thumb over the face of the shiny gold watch on his wrist, the band glinting under the soft lights of his bedroom. “It’s... it’s great. I love it. But I can’t buy you stuff like this. I can’t... I don’t have...”

“That never upsets me,” you told him honestly. “I don’t even think about that kind of stuff.”

“You could have a guy who can buy you things,” Pietro went on. “A real rich one, you know, take you shopping and whatnot.”

“I can take myself shopping,” you joked, bumping your shoulder with his. He gave a small smile. “And I don’t need that, nor do I want that. I want you, and whatever you come with is perfect.”

“Are you sure?” Pietro scrunched up his face, his pale eyes glazed over. You ran your hand through the icy tips of his hair, and he leaned into your touch like a puppy being scratched behind the ear. “Sometimes I worry that you’ll leave.”

“Leave?”

“For someone with more money,” Pietro mumbled.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you kissed his cheek. “I don’t want to leave, and I’m not going to anytime soon.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you kissed his temple. “I am.”

Pietro said nothing, his brows furrowed and his nose slightly scrunched. You put your hand under his chin, turning his face so the two of you were eye to eye.

"You are perfectly perfect, Piet,” you told him firmly. You felt his face turn hot underneath your hand. “I’ve never wished for anything more or less from you. It’s like I’m Goldilocks and you’re the porridge that’s just right."

“Mm,” was all he said for a moment, leaning into you. After a pregnant pause of silence, he said, “I don’t know what that means.”

“Yeah, I figured,” you wrapped your arms around him, hugging his side. He pressed into you, hugging you back, the warmth from his arms engulfing you. “My next gift for you will be an American nursery rhyme book. How’s that?”

He let out a laugh, holding you tighter. “Anything from you is perfect.”

---

translations:

"Multumesc, dragă." - Thank you, darling.

taglist:

@niallhoransupremacy @childishnewt @criesinlies @fairydxll @cassiestars777@mcximffs @minbeatriz16 @slvtforfictionalcharacters @kaqua @thorrealgf @pagesbetweensheets @xlucyintheskywithdiamondsx @eichenhouseproperty

#pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro marvel #pietro maximoff x yn #pietro #maximoff #mcu #pietro maximoff fanfic #fanficiton #pietro maximoff fanfiction #aaron taylor johnson #atj #wanda maximoff #vision

[xorxse]

Hunter x human! male reader

•

brah i need more hunter x male reader ffs SEASON THREE SPOILERS!

•

•

•

Summary: Hunter meets a human after sneaking out of Luz’s house. then they fall in love yada yad

•

•

•

•

•

•

• Hunter wanted to do something more for Luz and Camila considering that they’ve done so much for them. Catering for him, cooking for him, buying things for him, and just caring for him. Something that he often doesn’t get.

• So he snuck out, he can’t just help them with stitching clothes. He wanted to get something for them, so there he was. Up and about in the human realm, he walked by shops and humans. But something caught his eye, a certain human.

• A human that was unmistakably handsome. he shook his head, no i need to find something special for Camila and Luz. he thought, but the smell of coffee and baked goods caught him going to the cafe the certain male was at.

• The much taller male welcomed him in, hunter awkwardly waved. the quite handsome and intimidating male was the only worker there. Luckily for the male there was only but two or three customers in there. Hunter anxiously walked up to the counter looking up at the good looking male.

• hunter awkwardly coughed, thanking that he brought some human money (stole from camilas purse). “u-uhm what do you think i should get?” Hunter asked as he fiddled with his thumbs. M/n chuckled as he warmly smiled, “you could try our more favorited drink called “everlong” !”

• Hunter couldn’t help but express his emotions hearing the deep voice from the worker. Love at first sight? he thought, hunter already questioning his sexuality with this man he had just met.

• “u-uhm i’ll get just that…then” Hunter uttered pulling a ten dollar bill out of his pocket. “a large, medium, or small?” The male asked staring into hunters eyes and almost examining his features.

• “a medium please..” his voice trailed on giving the ten dollar bill to the worker, getting 6 dollars and 45 cent change back. But as hunter was about to receive his change, hunter accidentally dropped it. spilling the coins and dollar bills on the counter and on the floor. Anxiety ran up through hunters veins, his breathing hitched, his only thoughts were “oh shit people are gonna laugh at me, they’re already judging me aren’t they, he’s judging me isnt he”

• he failed to notice the worker walking to hunter and giving hunter a reassuring pat on his back. “hey bud? are you okay? what’s wrong?” the reassuring words from a stranger was so werid to hunter. what did he deserve to get this?

• “u-um i’m fine, i’m sorry” Hunter said as he straightened himself up. “hey um, i know we just met but if you need to talk to me. come after my shift which is gonna end in ten minutes.” The handsome stranger said as his hand left hunters back and ran to make hunter’s drink.

• Hunter stayed. this is crazy, i cant believe im waiting for a stranger i don’t even know, he thought. He got his drink though, quietly and sneakily taking his drink so he doesn’t have to come in contact with the worker. after ten minutes, the strange came to hunter with normal casual clothes.

• They walked out of the cafe together, tension in the air. Hunter sipped on his drink, instantly liking it as his elf like ears perked up. “good right?” the human chuckled as he walked with his hands in his pockets. “yeah that’s surprisingly good” Hunter said as it for quiet again.

• “so are you new to this town? we usually don’t get new neighbors” M/n said sparking up a conversation once again. Hunter stayed silent and answered “oh yeah!” silence once again.

• m/n couldn’t help but cringe, this is gonna be a long convo. “do you like art museums? we have one here, we could go there if you like.” M/n asked patiently waiting for the short male to respond.

• Unsurprisingly, Hunter said yes and they both went. Hunter and M/n finally got out of the awkward stage and talked more about themselves. Hunter had never felt so comfortable with a person he had just met, it was awfully werid and comforting. Unfortunately the hangout had to end.

• “Ya’know hunter it was really nice hanging out with you, and i hope we could do this again.” M/n warmly smiled as hunter stared at him. “yeah i had a nice time,,” His voice trailed off scared that this was gonna end just like that.

• “can i get your number?” Hunter never knew that M/n would say those words. “oh um yeah it’s..”

• After that, they hang with each other continuously and of course hunter had to tell the others. Luz and Amity never knew that hunter would have any feelings for a guy…they thought he was just a straight white boy. The others knew he was a little fruity but never questioned him.

• However their hangout was a little different, m/n was more fidgety and more careful on his words. It was only at the end of their hangout when m/n finally asked hunter something that made his heart flutter.

• “um, i don’t know how to start this hunter, i’ve always liked you the day you walked up to my counter and asked me what drink you think you should get. And i was wondering, hunter if me and you could um, date?” M/n asked as he looked away from hunter’s eyes, hunters eye grew wide as he almost made an excited noise.

• Hunter couldn’t contain his happiness and hugged M/n so tightly that he practically couldn’t breathe. “yes! yes yes yes yes” Hunter said in the chest of M/n.

#hunter the golden guard #hunter #toh #the owl house #hunterxmalereader #hunter x male reader #male reader #fluff #gay #gay pride #fanfic #fanfiction #onshot #oneshot #cute #forever traumatized #season three #hunterisliterallysocutewhowouldliterallyhurthim

[ofmermaidstories]

You mentioned loving those "what's in my bag/what's on my nightstand" videos. I was just wondering… would you ever consider doing something like that for the Y/Ns? 🥺 I love the way you draw/describe everyday objects, and I think it'd be so cute!

i do love those “what’s in my bag” type posts/videos. 👀 it’s bc im nosey and easily influenced LOL, i wanna know what you’ve got in your bag and why it’s there and whether or not it has any correlation to what’s been keeping u up at night. 👀

but!!! YES i wanna play this game!!!! omg i know it’s taken me an age to answer but i have poured over the list i made for this—i window shopped, asked other people what they thought, cross referenced my own writing so now we are PREPARED!!

i consider this a part 2 to how i envision the Y/Ns in the in another life verse dressing. and just like part one, this one is under a cut—so that the friends we have among us who don’t want their vision of Y/N spoilt by my subjective taste in objects ruined don’t have to see it!

weedsie-woo would favour bags that can carry a lot; a heavy waterbottle, one of haru’s toys, the little pouch packed with like, band-aids and face-mist and hand cream and lip balm. then you’d have things like the crumpled empty pack of hero chips (that’s haru’s), a wallet, a coin-purse, and obviously the all-important phone. the pocket knife from katsuki. the little pouch that holds weed’s hearing aid (and a spare battery, just in case).

scribbles would grab whatever’s near. 💀 whatever bag ends up being used, it’s always crammed full of shit—a pencil case, filled with coloured pencils and fountain pens and ink and watercolour paints—paint markers, mechanical pencils, erasers. the journal that scribbles takes with them, everywhere. headphones and a tin of breath mints and a small makeup pouch with like, idk, lip gloss and concealer, mascara. there’s a bottle of perfume in there somewhere and a mask and a wallet, scribble’s phone (although that mostly lives in scribble’s hand). it’s not uncommon for scribbles to lug magazines to the studio—for reference.

both Y/Ns would swap things, interchangeably. weeds might buy a new magazine, or a manga volume and take it to work—scribbles might take a drink bottle from a convenience store. both of them might use a flimsy tote bag one day, then the next scribbles might arrive to work with a fine leather handbag. weeds might take some florist wire or tape home and then take it back to the shop a few days later. it’s just—stuff like that! there’s gum in weed’s bag one day, some tiny gachapon toy in scribbles’ the next. maybe it pours rain in weed’s part of town, so there’s a little compact umbrella shoved into the tote, while scribble’s side of the city is dry as a bone so there’s a cap in scribb’s instead. on and on and on forever, as they go about their lives and their days. 😌

#ofmermaidstories-asks #surrender-fic verse #ofmermaidsdoodles

[plainemmanem]

em I’m obsessed w u 💋 since you’re on a car ride I’m thinking about an aimless road trip w Steve and you’ve not got a destination in mind but you stop at every roadside thing every berry stand and farm and weird attraction and you stay in motels so bad he’s like Jesus can we sleep in the car and you have to show him how to navigate a laundromat since he’s never done that and I’m ill now when is Steve picking me up

STOP IT THIS INSTANT WHY IS THIS NOT HAPPENING TO ME RIGHT NOW

he’s like a little kid, he sees something shiny, he has to stop and check it out. so basically steve’s driving and he’s blasting the music and singing along and he spots a farmer’s market on the side of the road and the boy is GIDDY. he’s frantically turning down the music and pointing to it like “please can we go???😫” and of course you stop and he walks around to each stand, holding your hand and pointing out every little thing💀💀 he buys you flowers and maybe a plant or two and then he charms the old woman behind the counter and gets you guys peaches for free GAH . and then you’re driving for like, ten minutes, and he sees kids at a makeshift lemonade stand and he gives you that look and he’s like “we have to stop.” so he’s pulling over and searching the center console for change and he drags you over and he’s chatting with the kids OH GOD. he’s like “jeez, a whole dollar? you guys are bleeding me dry here for some lemonade…” but he ends up giving them like six dollars for one and then he tries it and he looks at the kids like “😳this is the greatest lemonade i’ve ever had” AND ITS LITERALLY WATER OH MY GOD HE IS SUCH A DORK I WANT HIM. the kids definitely call you his “wife” and he’s like “ha ha, no she’s not my wife yet🥴” and then you just drive around all day aimlessly and it’s so nice being with him and spending time alone together. there’s just so many times where you catch him staring and he’s just so in love with you🫶

maybe it rains or something and you guys run to a laundromat to dry your shoes and you’re like “ok we can throw them in” and he’s like “…. i, um… i don’t know how” so you’re showing him how to put in the coins and the settings on the machine and he’s listening so intently and trying so hard to learn :’)) by the end of the day it takes everything in him not to just pull over and sleep in the car in the back with you but you’re like “steve, i’m so sorry i love you but i cannot sleep in the back of the car with you. you will kick me in your sleep.” so he takes you to some shitty motel with a pool and you guys swim and sleep really close together, he’s never held you so close before and right before you fall asleep he’s like “im so glad i get to be here with you. im so happy you’re here with me:)” WAHHHH I NEED HIM SO BAD😖😭

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington

[sxaras]

hey luma its ya fav older sister kinna type (im messing fr) been in a selfship mood so im gonna come up with some questions and you can answer with whoever you like

- you and your s/o take a bath together, what's that like? (special ritual or anything, sky lore because i had a rubber duckie ritual as a kid)

- your s/o finds you sad and tries to revive you & ur mood, how do they do it?

- give me a chaotic idea in your head that would be silly with one (or more of them if it makes you happy) of your s/os

- i know you mentioned on the server like aus... what's a parallel au for your s/o that you'd like to live out with them? (for example like a shoujo anime when ur s/o is in a mafia game/anime)

- favorite thing about them

- who tucks you in at night and kisses you goodnight before you sleep (very romantic)

hope you like these<3

xoxo, sky

AWWWW YIPPPPEEEE SELFSHIP QUESTIONS TY SKY MY FAV OLDER SISTER FIGURE <3

ok so baths

xiao - omggg they’re the most sweet and intimate thing ever in our relationship. whenever im stressed, he runs a bath for me. he lets me lay against his chest as i vent to him about what’s bothering me or we chat about something uplifting. he likes to massage my shoulders and thinks im very pretty with my hair in a messy bun <3

scara - mans was not okay with taking a bath together at first, which i understood and gave him time. when he was finally opened to the idea, i tried to make it as comforting to him as possible. i even set up candles and his fav movie to try to ease some anxiety <3

ALSO RUBBER DUCKY RITUAL THATS SO CUTE !

ok so

xiao - bro wants to go all out, but didn’t know how to at first. so, he asked my friends for advice, which, they didn’t really know much since i don’t vent to them often. but they said to do his best and honestly anything from him is perfect enough. he likes to, as previously answered, run a bath for me, we watch our favorite anime together (we sometimes rent perfect blue if i have the right headspace). usually i like to heal at home but sometimes he’ll take me out to see the city/town i live in <3

scara - says “take ur damn meds”💀ok but fr if it’s someone or multiple ppl affecting me negatively, he’s very much dead set on wanting to kick their asses. i have to tell him to be civil and to not let them bother us. “but if they’re bothering you, then that’s a problem to me!” he says. most of the time, we watch our fav anime and chill <3

dazai - another one who wants to go all out. (well all my f/o’s do but these two do it in a way im really into, not like im not into other f/o’s giving me affection tho) he buys me my favorite foods (but in no way pressures me to eat them bc of my low appetite), we rent perfect blue and any other obscure anime we can get our hands on without a virus together, takes me to the bookstore and lets me go ham, and will read to me when we fall asleep at night <3

THIS ONE I REALLY ENJOYED CAUSE I HAVENT BEEN THE BEST LATELY TYSM SKY <3

silly scenarios

zhongli walking in on xiao and i making out

zhongli sending me an “are you ok” text at 3AM and me and xiao are like “??”

my mom scolding me after i cracked a joke how both my mom and ei can’t cook😭

me thinking dan heng was texting other hoes then i realized he was looking at a saved album of photos he has of me <3

hmm this is an interesting one

for me and xiao i have a shojo au based off my fav manga ‘cheeky brat’ (luma shut up about this manga we know😭) (i also have a shojo au for all my selfships) (also minus the non consensual pervasive actions)

dazai i lowkey have an idea for an au based off ‘grease’, but idk if dazai would fit the role (i kinda think he would)

xiao - his eyes <3

scara - we’re two sides of the same coin

dan heng - his voice <3

dazai - he’s just as crazy as me ♡︎

for who tucks me in.. all of them do. they’re very caring in bed (not like that)

I LOVED THESE TYSM SKY <3

also also have u put any more thought into making a selfship account? or will u keep everything on ur main?

#☆—selfships #☆—luma’s asks #☆—lumxiao #☆—scaraluma #☆—lumheng #☆—osaluma

[beansterpie]

B, D, J, L, T, U

Thanks for the ask moth!! <3

B - A pairing–platonic, romantic or sexual–that you initially didn’t consider, but someone changed your mind.

LMFAO Agohiru from ES21 😂 I remember when I first got into es21 back in highschool, Hiruma was my fav, but I didn't think much of Agon other than 'wow what an asshole!' and didn't like him. (Also I was a big Hirumamo shipper at the time, and I'm the type who clings onto One Ship for a character and isn't too interested in anything else lol) It wasn't until I got back into it in the last couple of years that I've come to appreciate how much fun it is to bat that asshole around, and just how loaded Hiruma and Agon's ~history~ is.

Though I guess no one person specifically changed my mind, unless you count past me vs present me lol. OH actually, what changed my mind was the fic "Independent Variable" on ff.net. I think I got back into es21 and was like 'you know, hiruma/agon totally has potential' and so was looking up fics of that pairing, and then I read that fic and was lost.

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t.

Hmmmm oh, Merther (Merlin/Arthur) lol. Their set up as a ship is extremely juicy (two sides of the same coin?? fate ties them together??? conflict because their initial world views are diametrically opposed????) and there's soooo much fic for them, but. I just. I don't like Arthur 😭 Like, I mean, he's FINE. But the writing of the whole show is so inconsistent and there's entire seasons where he's just so shitty to Merlin for no damn reason in a way that I'm supposed to take as funny and silly which pisses me off more.

J - Name a fandom you didn’t think about until you saw it all over Tumblr. (You don’t have to care about it or follow it; it just has to be something that Tumblr made you aware of.)

I mean, most shows that have mainstream popularity that I never checked out lol, though I think one that I've seen a lot of shipping art for on my dash is Star Wars? I've seen the main movies, but I think this is from.... Clone Wars, or the Obi-wan show or something. I see a lot of Obi-wan shipped with... one of the clone guys I think lmfao.

L - Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves.

Hmmmm this isn't even a character I dislike, but whatever-- Judeau! I like him a lot tbh but I also find him shady 😂

I like how his 'friend who gives good advice and just has your best interests at heart' vibe is subverted by his personal biases and emotions, even if he'd probably deny that lol. He's flawed and it colors the advice he gives, and he even has moments that I'd argue are kind of judgy. It's what makes him interesting!

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending? 

Yes! Main one coming to mind rn because I've been thinking about Hiruma (ES21) a lot, is that Hiruma is on the ace spectrum! I'm usually pretty take-it-or-leave-it when it comes to sexuality headcanons, like I can buy most interpretations but I generally don't feel strongly about them, but with Hiruma I really struggle to see him as anything else.

U - Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites.

OOHHHH. Well in Berserk, it's legit a tie between Guts and Griffith. I wouldn't like either one of them as much without the other in their orbit, and Berserk is one of those rare stories where both characters are really complex and compelling in their own way, and bring a lot of significant baggage into their dynamic lmfao. With Guts I love how sensitive he is, and the various ways in which he subverts and deconstructs the Macho Male Power Fantasy™ archetype, how at the end of the day he just wants someone to care about him and find worth in his existence. With Griffith, I love his ideals and his fragility in the face of the sacrifices those ideals demand from him, I love how much he cares and how much he gouges himself for caring, and how all of his stress and guilt and obligation still aren't any match for his love for Guts. And with both of them, I love how their upbringing informs their decisions so well to ruin everything even though they care about each other so much :')

w/ ES21, it's Hiruma lol which might be basic because he's everyone's fav, but for good reason! He's just fucking fun! I love how unhinged and demonic he is, I love the borderline slapstick loony-tunes tyle antics he gets up to, and I love his shamelessness. But I also love how accepting and realistic he is about his limitations, and how that doesn't stop him from striving for the top and going for what he wants. And like, for such an anime-level strategic genius type character, I love that such a core part of what makes him great is that he brings people together and uses teamwork and creativity to overcome everyone's various limitations. He's just-- so much fun!

And because this list is depressingly male lemme throw in a wild card-- Chase from Midnight Furies! It's a webcomic that I recently read for the first time, and Chase is the deuteragonist and a Hiruma expy lol. Which you can definitely tell, they both have the unhinged vibe and shark teeth, as well as the mysterious past and having a lot of cards up their sleeve, but I also think they're quite distinct. Obviously, Chase is a butch lesbian (which really does just add to her cool factor), but also I feel like Midnight Furies is a more grounded story compared to ES21, despite there being supernatural elements lol, and so Chase feels more grounded and realistic as a character. She's a bit more raw in her relationships to other people, and she shows vulnerability more, but she's also much more of a direct physical threat than Hiruma is. Because of that, she has moments where calculation gets thrown out the window in favor of a good ol' beat down, which of COURSE I love to see. And I think she has the capacity to be more ruthless. ANYWAY, awesome character, A+++ (please read Midnight Furies)

[alphabet ask meme]

#marley-manson #ask meme #sorry this took a while and i think i'm posting this when most of my mutuals are asleep lol #but ohhhhw ell

[sisterlyintimacy]

I mean they’re now both mid forties married women, one with children, and not to be too blunt but the fanbase has never been great at financially supporting the music so like. I don’t care if they’re doing paid content because y’all have shown they won’t get shit otherwise. There’s videos from like 2010 concerts where they’re genuinely happily surprised the merch is selling out and plenty of concert clips over their entire careers of them straight up calling out fans for not buying their CDs and just listening to MySpace and shit instead. So yeah, why should they treat us like family when the fans treat them like ‘insert coin get music’ machines and are nasty as hell about them not just remaking The Con every album and not being hella depressed grungy outcasts still? Good on them for finessing the system and saying f u and making whatever they want lol, wish more artists had the guts to make sure fans know they don’t own them. Move on if you don’t like them anymore, people!

You know people can dislike some things they do and still like them overall as artists?

No they don’t owe me shit but I don’t owe them money for content that’s not worth it

#I’ll spend money on them when they play a show in my country #like I do for every other band I like

[weaselishmcdiesel]

done!! (also if u have any more tips or just anything abt the game id be happy to hear them 👀 yes this is also an excuse to ramble abt it im listbenin)

I got the reward!! :DD!! Thank you so much XD!!

HEHE OK YOU LEGALLY ASKED FOR IT THIS TIME IM GOING TO RAMBLE SO HARD:

Never buy the supreme chest chest/pet egg if you can get the special chest/pet egg. They cost the same but the special has a higher chance to get you newer characters, it’s totally worth it

Same goes for treasures. Always do the special draw, not the regular! (Unless you… somehow maxed out all the new treasures) Also for treasures, don’t buy the draw 1. You get one free draw if you get the 10+1.

Rainbow cubes are so so so so so rare. If an event is selling rainbow cubes, prioritize getting those before any other reward. (Unless of course you don’t care for costumes? But they aren’t purely cosmetic like with other games, they can be a good investment!)

Treasures go in and out of popularity ofc, but ones i recommend to level up would be X-tra hot Turbo Engine, DEFINITELY, and maybe Coin Fireworks Box (used to farm coins if you need to) and Red Egg of Resurrection (it’s very useful for getting good scores in cookie trials!)

Cookies and pets. go in and out of popularity HARD… I cant think of any that are super important to max out? Just try to focus on the newest ones for now and they should help you in all the different modes ^^

Playing in Main Story is. So helpful. It’s a fairly newish feature so it’s a breeze for me and all my maxed out cookies but it’s made for new players to get a grasp of mechanics! It also has great rewards that will help you max out captain ice cookie and beetroot cookie (they should help you progress in trophy race? I think?)

If you don’t want to play every day that’s totally understandable! If you can, then try to get some trophy races in! They’re the only way to open golden chests which ALWAYS contain epic cookies n are super super helpful ^^

Don’t fall madly in love with any of the cookies. They will break your heart. My text tone is herb cookie’s slide noise. I’ve known nothing but heartache. Wouldn’t trade it for the world.

I hope this. is good advice XD i havent been a new player in a long time clearly but hopefully the game is also pointing you in the right directions!

(also my friend id is LTGSF1658.... if you.. wanna be my fren 👉👈)

#also im technically not entirely f2p. i bought a cookie run shirt XD and as a reward i think they gave me like 1000 rainbowcubes? #but i needed to support the devs somehow if i like their game so much XD #weasel speaks #weasel games #asks! #cookie run #i also started a guild once upon a time (same one im in right now but im not the leader anymore) #and i think it was a chinese player who joined the guild and asked #in chinese #how to get a lot of frozen bear jellies (for an event at the time) #and i went on this Journey to figure out what they sent to the chat and then how to tell them where to get the jellies #such a wholesome experience XD #i had to change the game language to figure out how to say powdered snow cookie's trial in chinese #and iirc they said thank you in the end! so i helped! yay!

[atmymercy]

hiya tea! i saw you’re giving tarot readings for tonight!! if it isn’t too much trouble, i’d like to know how my friend p.p would react to my talk ill have with him tomorrow? i really do cherish him as a friend but i don’t really think i should be anything romantic with them.

- s.k thank u again tea !!!💌

hello sk! i am! welcome! get in here! lol of course, it's not too much trouble! or why would i have offered? lol ooh let's see!

for you, i got the 6 of wands, 7 of cups (reversed) & 4 of coins.

it seems pp is going to take it pretty well. overly well is what i'm hearing. he might be a bit boastful of how well it is with him. honestly, he's going to give off his vibe or even tell you that he kind of knew that this was like too good to be. like of course he had hoped for such but now that it's like ending for sure, he knows that it was him like flying too close to the sun and it's gotten too hot. he's just glad that you two are such good friends so he's not even worried about the storm that you think you are starting. but it's not. he gets it. 3 of coins behind the 4 of coins. he's just happy to be your friend and have a part of your life. aww!

hope you enjoyed it! please give feedback or buy me a coffee when you can! also please tell your friends if you enjoyed this! if you want to explore this further, please consider a private read as well. also thank you for sharing with me!♡

love & light!

-tea

as always, my rules & info are in my pinned post if you're interested in a reading of your own!

#tea tarot reading #daily tarot #tarot witch #tarotblr #tarotdaily #tarotonline #tarot deck #divination #tarot cards #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #tarot #i love tarot #kfcchilde

[radityadigka5]

CLICKZ NETWORK

Social media platforms are not only used by the public to interact with other users. Many entrepreneurs do business and market their products through this digital platform. Currently there are hundreds, even thousands of social media platforms with various types of uses. However, most of these social media platforms are still centralized.

The project is supported by an experienced and highly qualified team, which I think is capable of bringing the project to the highest level in the shortest possible time and I wish them success. One significant quality, which makes blockchain technology such a revolutionary product is its decentralization. Decentralization refers to a system without intermediary authorities such as banking or financial institutions, and distributes authority rights from one entity to many individuals. However, many investors and traders have invested in digital currencies through centralized exchanges, which do not follow the blockchain controls from funds to transactions. In order to get rid of these exchange intermediaries, decentralized exchanges were developed which do not require an entity to process transactions.

Cryptocurrencies and digital assets have seen a boom in the past few years. Anyone who missed buying either currency is now regretting it. If you don’t have enough capital to invest in shining coins like Bitcoin and Ethereum, there are still many ways to enter the blockchain and crypto market. You can even create tokens or coins if you have a unique concept that involves using the blockchain.

This project has a great team always providing creative ideas. so it deserves the attention of people from all over the world. This is really a very cool and powerful project with great features.

Can You Make Money On CLICKZ NETWORK?

Yes, that’s right, you can make money by joining CLICKZ NETWORK. You can get Clickz tokens and exchange them for Dollars or can be used for activities on the CLICKZ NETWORK Platform

What is CLICKZ NETWORK?

The current state of social media is characterized by a few dominant platforms that have amassed enormous user bases and profits. However, these platforms often prioritize their own interests over those of their users. They collect and monetize user data without adequately compensating users for their contributions, and they are known to censor content and limit user access.

CLICKZ NETWORK aims to solve this problem by building a decentralized social media platform that puts control over users. By using blockchain technology and smart contracts, CLICKZ NETWORK is able to create a transparent and fair ecosystem where users are fairly compensated for their contributions and have a greater voice over the platform.

Can You Make Money On CLICKZ NETWORK?

Clickz Features Unleash the potential of content creators on a decentralized platform Join the decentralized revolution and get paid for your content. Peer to Peer Share and publish content peer-to-peer, enabling users to create and share content without the need for a central authority. In-App Wallet A built-in cryptocurrency wallet for users to securely store and manage their earnings from content creation. Security & Privacy Enhanced privacy and security, with user data and content stored on a decentralized network rather than a centralized server DApp integration Integration with other decentralized applications and services (dApps), enabling users to access a wider range of decentralized tools and services.

What is CLICKZ NETWORK?

The current state of social media is characterized by a few dominant platforms that have amassed enormous user bases and profits. However, these platforms often prioritize their own interests over those of their users. They collect and monetize user data without adequately compensating users for their contributions, and they are known to censor content and limit user access.

CLICKZ NETWORK aims to solve this problem by building a decentralized social media platform that puts control over users. By using blockchain technology and smart contracts, CLICKZ NETWORK is able to create a transparent and fair ecosystem where users are fairly compensated for their contributions and have a greater say in the direction of the platform.

Tokenomics KLIKZ

The Clickz token is built on the Binance Smart Chain blockchain and follows the BEP-20 standard. Clickz tokens have a limited supply of $50,000,000 Clickz. Clickz tokens will be distributed to users through various activities on the platform, such as content creation and curation, governance participation, and DEFI activities. The exact distribution plan will be determined through decentralized governance and may change over time to reflect the needs and goals of the platform.

Earn Clickz Tokens:

Apart from making clear tokens by making videos, users can earn CLICZ tokens in various ways. US:

Users can create sponsored materials for brands

And can get Clickz tokens.

Users can earn extra money by staking, pending and orrow can earn cash tokens through clicking and trading.

Users can invite them to join their friends and followers to earn some bonus tokens. Earn a percentage of their CLICZ network and Clickz Tokens

Get CLICKZ network token rewards as referral rewards.

Compete by giving away Clickz tokens for certain users who have finished

can work.

You can earn tokens by making videos about CLICKZ NETWORK. You can earn tokens by posting the video on Facebook, Youtube, Twitter.

ClickZKlikZ Tokenomics :

Clickz tokens are cryptocurrencies or coins.

CLICZ network exchange. It has been created on Binance Smart Chain following blockchain and BEP-20 values.

Token Name:

ClickzNetwork symbol: CLICKZ

Decimal: 18

Total Supply: 50,000,000

CLICKZ Contract: 0xb3C5F2d8fE664f71534821c7a3195D7F11f1eB40

Important Links: Website: https://clickz.network Telegram: https://t.me/clickznetwork Twitter: https://twitter.com/Clickz_Network Whitepaper: https://clickz.network/whitepaper.pdf

Forum Username: Radityadigka

Forum Profile Link: https://bitcointalk.org/index.php?action=profile;u=3428426

[jentlemahae]

I totally agree w what you and anons are saying about CN bars overall & how most can carry themselves overly smugly/self-importantly, but—and I don’t mean this as a personal accusation to you or anyone, more of a general observation—I also think finding them annoying is a pretty popular opinion in international/English fan circles? Like maybe it’s just in my limited experience but I swear people (esp white people tbhhh 😭) love taking valid criticisms against weird moves they do and then using that as ammo to discredit Chinese fans in general, so that /all of them/ seem like the dumb easy-but-also-oversensitive hive mind piggybanks even companies themselves have treated them as when they’re trying to get that Chinese coin without actually putting in the baseline work of understanding or even respecting the Chinese idols or audiences they’re courting. I think that’s how you eventually get iffy but surprisingly popular takes like “T*n’s high- profile/paying activities in China or aimed at Chinese fans are worthless he should come back to a basement in the utopia of Korea for YOUTUBE CONTENT” (even L*sa got this too sometimes even as she was making bank and gaining hella fans so long as you consider Cfans fans, and not, like, subhuman mass buy machines whose attention is worth less than people from elsewhere in every way but monetary) or “pandering to China via having mandarin versions or even having Chinese members is just a cash grab selling out to CCP robots” from randoms that have as much of a right to speak on this as Cbars & groups of netizens have a right/the audacity to act like they’re the be all and end all of their faves’ livelihoods lmaooo. But yeah, v much not saying you or any of the other asks are doing this, but just putting 2 cents in bc I’ve also seen other international fans go the other extreme on this take while also bragging about faves’ achievements (that bars did still play a role in helping secure) in the same breath. It v much depends on the specific artist and fan community too like I SO agree BP solo bars acting high and mighty is goofy bc they’re a drop in the bucket in, like, the way large ocean of support that group has lmfaoooo

ohhh yes! ive personally not seen it amongst nctzens but i do remember when lisa was on the chinese dance show and korean/international fans were getting disrespectful talking about it :/ as u said that’s not what im saying but that’s definitely a valid point bcs ive seen fans spewing xenophobia while criticizing bars

#anonymous #sophie ask

[bydfi]

FTX, 3AC, Voyager, Celsius, Alameda, Hodl Do You Realize What They’ve Done?

This is so important Celsius, FTX, Alameda, Voyager, HodlHodl, 3AC all took Bitcoin that wasn’t theirs dumped it, lost it or sold coins they didn’t have bringing the prices super low and then declared bankruptcy so they don’t have to repay it meaning the price doesn’t get to come back. They have all crushed the price of real cryptos with coins that weren’t theirs/they didn’t have because people trusted them. Imagine the prices we would be at if they didn’t/couldn’t do this, take control of your coins for everyones sake. BTC would probably be above 40K today if these companies weren’t recklessly gambling with our coins or had to buy them back. PLEASE spread the message, take control of your keys, fuck these snakes and stop letting them manipulate markets, walk away leaving you with nothing when they lose. This is what crypto was made for. submitted by /u/anonymouscitizen2 [link] [comments] http://dlvr.it/ScTMGC