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darlingmbappe · 1 year

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The Loneliest [3] | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Epilogue]

Summary: While Kylian lets jealousy get the best of him on the pitch, you find that a tequila-filled night might be the answer to healing your broken heart... even if it's just for one night.

Warnings: Still just absolute angst. Missing your ex, Kylian being overprotective and jealous, Erling Haaland being a dick (i'm sorry it's purely for plot purposes), heavy drinking, self destructive behavior, cussing, bad cheese puns, let me know if I missed anything! — English is not my first language —

The breakup was bound to go public sooner or later. It was surprising you made it almost seven weeks before the media got the hold of the story. You both were spotted alone on separate sides of town too many times, you’d missed all of his matches, and E!News got a source that told them you live alone now. You have a strong hunch it’s your next door neighbor that’s always lingering by the stairs. She asks entirely too many questions.

While you were still with Kylian, your relationship was kept mostly private and you rarely found yourself in any headlines. But, lord knows, if there’s anything the press loves more than a celebrity engagement is a celebrity breakup. When you saw a graphic of your face and Kylians face photoshopped onto a broken heart on Snapchat, a clickbait title asking, “did our fav football couple call it quits?”, you knew you’d be getting some unwanted attention. Fuck you, Daily Mail. Mind your business.

You clearly remember agreeing with him to wait for you to text first, but he’s a damn liar. He didn’t let a day go by before sending you a sweet good morning text. For the past three weeks, he’s been sending little messages here and there. Nothing too risqué or anything that made you feel pressure… they were actually nice. You’d been pretty good at not responding, being occupied doing absolutely anything else to stop yourself from thinking about him.

Kylian knew this. Being with you for such a long time, he understood how you got when you didn’t want to think about something. When your family dog passed, you claimed you were fine over and over again, and he just had to let you hyper fixate on new random hobbies until your feelings eventually exploded out. You taught yourself claymation, knitting, refurbishing old creepy dolls… that was definitely his least favorite. He needed to make sure you didn’t force yourself to forget about him, he wanted to be there for you when you were ready. He’s patience is usually very thin, but he’s impressed with himself for staying (mostly) zen about you not responding. He had to. He couldn’t fuck this up again and come swinging with the ‘I love you’s that he types out and erases promptly.

It’s finally Friday and you just finished a late lunch at your favorite café near your office, just listening to music on your headphones and reading through a document you were about to send to your colleagues. Your phone buzzed with a message from Kylian and, of course, you clicked the notification. You always did.

He’d sent you a picture of a decorative board at some market with a cheese-remix of the song Sweet Dreams by the Eurythmics. You immediately laughed out loud, having seen this exact sign before with Kylian years ago. For weeks after, you two sang the lyrics randomly around the house, in the car, pretty much anywhere until all of your friends were begging for you two to just shut the fuck up.

Sweet dreams are made of cheese, who am I to dissa-brie, I’ve travelled the world and the feta cheese, everybody’s lookin’ for stilton.

Your fingers began to respond before you even had a chance to really think about it.

(Y/N): Not this shit again

Kylian smiled widely upon seeing that you sent something back, typing back in record speeds.

Kylian: I think it’s…….. grate

You actually smiled at his horrible pun, twirling your hair against your own will.

(Y/N): very cheesy

Kylian was so quick to look up more cheese puns, not wanting to let his roll come to an end. Any communication, even about cheese, worked for him.

Kylian: it’s very gouda to hear from you again :)

“Oh, man.” You mumbled to yourself, noticing how your heart rate increased with just a couple of his really really bad jokes.

God, you missed him so much.

You stood up, leaving the conversation there, gathering your things and turning up the music. Yet, the whole walk back it was impossible to focus on whatever was playing in your ears because of the louder song playing inside your head. Sweet dreams are made of cheese…

Kylians thumb was lodged between his teeth in anticipation, but soon realized you weren’t going to respond again. Lowly cursing to himself, he threw his phone back in his locker. Everyone was prepared for todays game against Manchester City, especially Kylian. He wanted to win so bad, it almost felt like the World Cup.

He knew who he was going to play against — Erling Haaland. If he wasn’t too fond of him before, finding out he hit on you on you brewed a different kind of determination to win inside of him. You said nothing happened that night and he believed you — but he knew that Haaland had more in mind than just a nice conversation. He noticed last week that he followed you on instagram and liked all of your recent pictures, not including the ones with him. As of last night, you still didn't follow him back. Those late night stalking sessions have to stop soon. His nutritionists is really getting on his ass for finishing entire jars of peanut butter every other day.

He wondered if you were going to watch the game or if you had been since you left. He really hoped you hadn’t been. He’s been playing horribly these past weeks. Once the news of your breakup went public, every commentator made a point of mentioning it and saying stupid shit like, “life goes on, and that’s something Kylian Mbappé is going to have to figure out sooner or later.”

He let his angry thoughts fuel him as he walked into the tunnel. He tried to get his head in the game, but couldn’t help looking back every so often to the opposing team next to them, eyes always landing on the tall blonde man.

He stood in his place, but his neck twisted back against his will, not really caring if he was being too obvious. Right before the teams were meant to walk out together, Haaland caught his death glares. Kylian doubled down, making sure he wouldn’t be the one to lose this immature staring contest. Holland cracked a shit-eating grin and winked at Mbappé.

Oh, the rage… keep it in, Kylian.

He looked away with an unbothered “pft.” It wasn’t very convincing, not even to himself.

After the usual opening ceremony, the whistle blew indicating that the match had begun, sending Kylian sprinting in every direction as the game progressed. ManCity was good, but he knew PSG was better. He kept telling himself this, but his teammates continued to mess up, even allowing the light-blue motherfuckers to score the opening goal not even twenty minutes into the first half. And, of course, it was Haaland that buried the ball deep in the back of the net. He watched him celebrate on his pitch, listening to the crowd cheer their chant, feeling tortured and helpless.

His eye was fixed on the Norwegian as he moved back into the starting position, hating that he was laughing, still on a high from scoring. Hakimi walked next to Kylian, feeling that his friend is on the brink of doing something very dumb. His hand patted his shoulder, but Kylian didn’t even notice it, his entire body twitching with jealously.

When Kylian was in earshot, Haaland nodded up at him. “Kylian.” The young player called, but Kylian just side eyed him. Hakimi grabbed his shoulders tighter just in case he tried anything. “(Y/N) is up for grabs now, no?”

Kylians ears rung as he felt himself launch at Erling who just laughed. Hakimi had gotten in front of him without missing a beat, roughly shoving him in the opposite direction to keep him from beating up the 22 year old. Other PSG players joined, guiding Kylian to his position.

He didn’t even know words were coming out of his mouth at this point, pointing his finger threateningly at Erling. “Don’t fucking talk about her. I’ll fucking kill you. You hear me?” He was well aware that this was all to get in his head but, shit. It’s working. Kylian didn’t even notice that the referee was being talked down by Neymar and Messi, eventually the confrontation getting waved off with a warning at the start of a new play.

Halftime rolled around and no one scored again. In the locker room, Glatier yelled and waved his arms, demanding that the defense get their shit together. He zoned out, too deep in thought about what an asshole that guy is and how he wants to score and rub it in his face. He was brought back when he heard his name grumbling out of his coaches mouth, having no idea what the topic even was.

“Sorry?” He embarrassingly piped up, seeing all of his teammates had their eyes on him.

Glatier grunted, stomping closer to him. “I said, get your shit together!”

“Yes, coach.”

“Don’t worry about what they say. Just go out there and play like I know you can. You want to win, don’t you?”

“I do, coach.”

“Then let’s fucking win.”

Glatier was right and he knew it. Whatever that stupid hulk-boy had to say about you was only getting under his skin. He couldn’t play at his best like that.

So, when the second half started and he heard him say some bullshit again, he did his best to let it roll off his back. “You think she’ll respond if I DM her?” Erling asked nonchalantly to Álvarez, but Kylian was determined to let it slide. Let it fucking slide.

But, he didn’t stop there. When walking by him, Haaland asked him, “What’s a good spot to take her? Nothing too far, my hotel room is around here.” Kylians fists were balled in rage, biting his cheek and blowing air out of his flared nostrils.

“You better shut your goddamn mouth.” He snapped back, but continued walking away, knowing he can’t let him win. Hearing Haalands taunting chuckles behind him almost made him whip back around, but Neymar wrapped his arm securely around his shoulder, forcing him to look forward.

“It’s just talk, Kylian. Come on.” He rubbed his head roughly as if to beg him to not let it get to him before running back into position.

The game progressed, only ten minutes left of the second half before overtime. Neymar was at the left side of the field, preparing himself for a corner kick. Kylian searched for an opening that could potentially bring a scoring opportunity, but a brooding shadow seemed to follow him everywhere. Haaland was aggressively playing defense against him, his height advantage making it impossible for Kylian to move somewhere better.

“I hope she wears something nice and tight.” Erling chortled through his tired breathing. “I’ve been waiting for you to mess things up with her. I’ve had my eye on her for months… She’s so hot.”

His mind went blank, completely blank. It must have, because he didn’t remember shoving Haaland down onto the pitch, fists pulling back. He was seeing red, but his teammates dragged him off before his punch could land right on his cheek. Before he knew it, the ManCity players were charging at PSG. The whistle blew about a dozen times as the crowd got louder.

Kylian couldn’t stop trying to shake off his friends, screaming past the wall of light blue toward the blonde man on the ground pretending to be seriously injured, clutching his arm.

“Say that again! I fucking dare you!” Kylian threatened, Ramos clinging onto his shoulders, walking backwards.

He was pushed away far from the scene as his whole team began to fight with the other players in solidarity, the referee preoccupied with calming down the situation.

He was for sure already getting a red card, so his mindset was fuck it. He sprinted around the fighting crowd who immediately recognized his intentions, getting back in front of him before he could reach Haaland to really do some damage.

“Stay the hell away from her. I’ll end you, you son of a bitch. Off this pitch, I swear to god you’re dead.” Kylian talked out of his ass, already walking himself off the pitch when the referee held up a red card. He waved him off, spiting on the grass as he made his way back through the tunnel, ignoring the coaching team screaming at him altogether.

ManCity ended up winning 2-0 and Kylians suspension was decided to extend for two matches. He didn’t watch the remainder of it, but when he found out Erling Fucking Haaland scored the other goal, it felt like the knife was twisted. Fuck that guy. The press conference after was hell, having to claim that he deeply regretted his actions and that this doesn’t reflect his character or whatever his PR team wrote up for him.

He truly did feel like a dumbass. He absolutely hated how much he let those comments affect him. He knew he should’ve just blocked it out but how was he going to let him say that stuff about you? The way he talked about you like you weren’t even a person, like you weren’t the love of his life. Sure, he felt like a dumbass, but he would defend you to the ends of the earth.

He got home to his empty house, throwing himself on his sofa, flipping on ESPN to watch basketball highlights. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep. Usually, he’s opposed to naps as they throw off his sleeping schedule, but recently he’d found them comforting; an easy escape from everything going on. Besides, his sleep schedule was already bonkers from the breakup.

He swears his eyes were only shut for five minutes, but he woke up to complete darkness. His TV even timed out, neck sore from the stiff throw pillows supporting his head, groaning so loudly that it echoed inside the vacant home. It was only when he picked up his phone to check the time that he realized you were even calling. The faint buzzing was probably what woke him up.

“Shit.” He shot up, wiping the sleep from his face as he answered quickly.

He cleared his groggy throat. “Hello?”

He faintly heard you saying his name, but the music in the back was pounding. “Kyyyyks!”

He laughed to himself, loving the sound of his nickname for the first time since your breakup. “Hello? (Y/N)? Are you drunk?”

“Hold on.” He heard you yell from the other line as the music got softer in the background. “Hellooo.” You giggled.

“Hi.” He giggled back.

“I woke you up.” He could hear the pout in your voice, having to bite his lip to keep his smile from getting ridiculous.

“No, no I don’t mind. Call me anytime.” Kylian began twirling his hoodie string on his forefinger. “Are you okay?”

You nod, but he can’t hear you. Your drunk brain didn’t catch up. “I think so.”

“You think so? Where are you?” Concerned, he looked at the time. A little past 3:30 am. Damn, long ass nap.

“Umm…” You paused to look around you, seeing no signs anywhere and finding it kind of funny. “I dunno. I lost them ages ago.”

“Them?”

“Yeah, my friends.”

He stood up. “Wait, wait. Are you by yourself?”

“Mhm!” You chirped, now walking away from the club, alone. Your skin-tight tights gave you no warmth at all, but the tequila that flushed your system had you covered. “Kyks…”

“Yeah?” He waited for you to say something, his concern for you growing, wishing he still had your location so he could go look for you.

You paused, looking around the dark streets. “I mi…” your sentence drifted off and you laughed off what you were about to say. “… I’m so drunk.” You stumbled further down the street, a loud club with red lights oozing from the entrance peaking your interest.

He knew what you were about to say, but wasn’t going to push it. “I can hear that. Do you need a ride? I can come get you right now, just send me your current location.”

“No, I’m fine! Look, I found somewhere safe!” You point, even though he couldn’t see. “Oh, my god. You’ll never believe who’s here. Oh, shit.”

“Who?” Kylian asked over the phone.

You giggled. “I don’t wanna tell you, Kyks. You’ll be mad. I saw what happened today during the match.”

He was tempted to quirk a smile hearing that you have been watching, but then it dawned on him. It couldn’t be… “Haaland?”

What are the odds? Erling Haaland stood outside the packed nightclub with a few of his teammates, surrounded by women and men, all trying to get his attention. He hadn’t seen you yet.

“Oh my god, you’re such a good guesser.” You clapped. “God, I forgot how tall he was.”

He grabbed his keys, putting his shoes on, holding the phone up to his ear by his shoulder as he rushed around his home. “Please just let me come pick you up. I’m worried about you, where are you? I’ll take you home.”

You got closer to the LED sign. “It’s called… uh… la petite robe noire… oh my god! That’s what I’m wearing!” You cheered.

He put you on speaker and looked it up. Jesus, you were so far, he wondered if you’d started out around there or if you’d ventured out alone. He revved up his engine, backing out of his driveway. “Stay there, I’m coming. Okay?”

You didn’t respond, your phone now by your side as Erling spotted you, jogging over to where you were standing.

“Hey!” You waved, letting him come to you because your heels hurt too badly. You couldn’t hear Kylian on the other line trying to get your attention.

“Hello, beautiful.” He leaned in and hugged you. You kind of hugged back, too drunk to balance yourself upwards that way without falling into him.

As soon as he heard that fucking accent over the phone, he pressed his foot down on the pedal, hoping he hits every green light in Paris. You, on the other hand, forgot you were still on the line with your ex fiancé, but hung up when you realized it with a giggly “oops!”.

“Didn’t think I’d run into you, how are you, (Y/N)?” Haaland asks, placing a steady hand on your waist to keep your wobbling frame from tipping over.

“So good!” That was a lie. You were out tonight drinking away the pit in your stomach since the match. You’d watched sneakily from your desk, fingers tugging at your roots when you saw the little incident during the first half. During those last ten minutes, you felt like you were going to throw up.

Why did you have to tell Kylian about Erling? What happened today definitely opened him up to a lot of criticism from his coaches, the team, the media… You couldn’t help but feel a little responsible because you knew he could behave himself if he never knew about that night on the balcony. On the other hand, it was kind of… very hot. Jealous Kylian was never your favorite, but you can’t stop yourself from feeling something spark in you. Or maybe you were just horny. Who’s to say? It's been so long...

“You’re good?” Erling accent repeats, grinning down at you. “Sorry to hear about your breakup."

"Pffft." You laugh. "Yeah right, you two were never exactly friends."

He shrugs, sticking his hands in his pockets. "You're right. I'm not sorry." He smirks, looking you up and down. If your head wasn’t filled with liquor you’d feel kind of gross, but his flirty stares didn’t mean anything to the drunken body you found yourself in tonight. It all went right over your head. He nods his head toward the club. "Come on, let's get you a drink, yeah?"

You followed him in, the lights were blurry and the ground wasn't very stable. The vibrations came up from the ground, making you feel like someone was shaking your brain around. You were absolutely not thinking straight, and it only got worse when a bottle girl came over to the section with Don Julio. It was all so fast, like the lights flashed and you were suddenly with someone else, or in a different part of the club, or dancing, drinking, stumbling.

Fuck, you had to get out of there.

Kylian arrived at the club and he definitely did not fit the dress code. But, despite his grey joggers and Nike hoodie, he was still Kylian Mbappé, so he got in without any issue. Ideally, he wouldn’t have to risk being spotted at a nightclub that Erling Haaland was at, but he did it for you. He politely smiled at his fans but weaved past people begging for a selfie. He called you plenty of times from the car, but you never picked up.

Once inside the club, he lifted his hood and put on some sunglasses, hoping this wouldn't cause a riot without his security to lead him through the crowds. People were too focused on grinding and not spilling their drinks to notice the international superstar frantically searching for one single woman in a sea of them.

He looked up at the sections on the second floor, finally spotting that tall blonde bastard, wasting not a single second before making his way up, security letting him through once he flashed them his famous smile.

"Haaland!" He cups his hands around his mouth, hoping that he knows where you are. "Haaland!"

He finally turns around, knitting his eyebrows at the sight. "Kylian." He steps around the models to stand close to him, the loud music making it impossible to communicate from even a few feet away. "What? You didn't get enough of me on the pitch today?"

Kylian rolls his eyes. "No, man. I'm just looking for (Y/N). I know she was here."

"Yeah, she was." Erling laughed. "She's wild, for sure. Don't know where she went, though."

"What? She's not here?"

Haaland shrugged. "She went to the bathroom and never came back. Why do you even care? Like I said, she's up for grabs. She's not yours anymore."

If he wasn't so worried about your current wellbeing, he would have grabbed his stupid little ponytail and gone full Fight Club on him. But he didn't, instead he shook his head at him and made his way down from the section before he regretted not throwing a punch or two.

His concern grew. He never thought he would wish you were with Erling Haaland at a nightclub, but at least he could find you then.

Kylian stood on a ledge hoping to see your hair or face anywhere from a birds-eye view, but had to leave promptly when the partygoers caught onto his less than great disguise. A security guard from the club lead him to the back exit, warding off flashing cameras in every direction.

Thanking the man when he was safely outside with a fist bump, he walked himself down the dirty metal steps, sighing. "Putain." He walked to is parked car, leaning on it to try and think a little, wondering how he’s going to find you. He really isn’t familiar with this part of town, but he'll stay out all night if he has to.

He wished you’d just pick up the phone, ease his jittery nerves. Just as he was about to click on your contact, he heard some slurred singing further down the alleyway he was in. The faint tune sounded familiar, but the voice definitely was. It was you.

He followed like a siren sound, turning the corner to see you sitting on a small cement step, head resting on your curled up knees, giggling to yourself as you continued the song.

"Sweet cheese are made of cheese, who am I to *hiccup* disa-cheese..."

"I think you've messed up the lyrics there, love." He smiled, letting out a breath he’d been holding now knowing you're okay.

You gaze up, smiling widely, gasping and jolting up, wrapping your loose arms around his neck and letting your legs go limp.

"Woah, hey..." He exclaimed with a laugh, grabbing your torso tightly to keep you upright.

"You're here!" You gaze up, grin wide as he peered down at you, smiling as well. "Whadda coincidence!"

It was like he didn't just spend hours worried sick, now feeling somewhat at ease. Your presence is all he needed for every weight to be lifted off his shoulders. He only cares about making sure you get back home with a glass of water on your nightstand and a trashcan at your side.

"You okay? Why are you out here by yourself?" He guides you to stand properly on your own, but you didn't let your grip go, so he didn't either. He let his hand stay on the small of your back, his other gripping your hip.

You shrug, scratching your fingernails against the nape of his neck. He shivered, goosebumps running down his body, letting a flustered giggle escape his lips. You stared deep into his eyes. Your funny demeanor simmered down, finding the familiar warmth of the man in front of you to be more intoxicating than anything you've drank tonight. "You always loved when I did that..."

Kylian's heart got caught in his throat, gulping it down along with the urge to hold you so tightly. He'd been craving your touch, spending many sleepless nights wondering if he'd ever get to feel you again.

"Let's get you home, okay?" He mumbled, running his hands down your arms to unwrap them from his neck. He held one of your arms as he bent down to grab your phone and purse from the dirty floor.

He started guiding you to his passengers seat, but getting you there wasn’t an easy task. Your heels kept getting caught in the cobblestones so he had to keep a steady hand around you in case you fell. He buckled you up like a toddler, doing his best to ignore the googly eyes that you made at him.

When he got in drivers seat, he looked over at you, a rush of memories making his heart flutter.

All of the times he would turn his gaze away from the road for just a second to see you. The way you smiled when you rode with the windows down, sticking your arm out to feel the rushing wind outside the car. The way he used to be able to put a comforting hand on your thigh while he drove and you'd draw circles on his knuckles mindlessly, rambling about anything that came to your mind. The way you would always unwrap a piece of gum for him because you didn't want him distracted, even though he would never not get distracted by you.

He shook the thoughts out of his head, clearing his throat. "So, what's your address?"

You laughed, taking your heels off. "I dunno."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"Geez, Ky. I've only lived there for like..." you counted in your head, but numbers barely made sense sober, "...not that long."

"Do you have it on your phone?" He pried, handing you your cell.

"Yes!" You cheered, snatching it only to see that it was out of battery when the screen reflected back at you. "Ah, man. It's dead!" You pouted, throwing it in the backseat, crossing your arms.

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, turning on the heat higher when he noticed the chills running down your arms. "I can take you back to... uh..." he stuttered, having to stop himself from saying our place, still getting used to living there alone, "—back to my place."

You gave him a look, raising your eyebrow dramatically. "Nice try, Casanova." You chuckled.

He laughed too, rubbing his eyes. "No, come on, (Y/N). There's like five beds. I wouldn't take advantage of you like that."

You bite your lip and stare at him through your lashes. "I'd let you."

God, that stare. That tone. He's internally cussing himself out for all those times he told you he wasn't in the mood or too tired. He wished he could go back in time and slap himself.

He quickly shook it off, laughing dryly and having to look away from you. “You are so drunk.”

With that, he put the car in reverse, beginning the half hour journey back to the home that still has pictures of you on the walls. The home that still feels like it’s yours, the one that Kylian prays he’ll see you wake up in again… at a time when you’re not absolutely plastered, of course. For now, he’s content looking over to your sleeping figure in his car, slowly breathing and shifting every so often.

Once he pulled into the garage, he got out and made his way to open the passenger door. “Hey,” he gently put a hand on your cold shoulder, “we’re here, bébé.”

He didn’t mean for the nickname to slip out of his mouth, but it did. It actually woke you up, your heart thumping at the four letters that used to be so familiar to you, so intimate.

“I’m tired.” You grumble, putting your hands out toward him, slightly less drunk, yet nowhere near sober. “I forgot how comfy your car is.”

“Wait ‘till we get you into a real bed. You’re gonna sleep like a rock.” You grabbed his forearms and stumbled out of the car, Kylian quickly grabbing your heels, phone, and purse.

For a drunk, you moved surprisingly fast, beelining to the kitchen. He followed you in, attentive to your wonky steps. He set your belongings down on one of the barstools, turning to see you leaned inside of his fridge, grasping the handles for balance.

“You hungry?” He grins, walking around the kitchen island and leans against it.

“Mm… you got rid of all my snacks…”

“Uh, not true.” He quipped, opening the cupboard and pulling back a red box, the sight bringing a big smile to your face.

“Pancakes?!”

He opens the cabinet bellow him and pulls out a sleek black press, confident smirk spreading to his cheeks. “Waffles.”

You cover your mouth in excitement, stumbling backward a bit but catch yourself on the island. “No way.”

He nods, eyes twinkling at your enthusiasm. You look so pretty in this kitchen. It’s nostalgic. It feels warmer now that you’re back here, even if he’s just pretending to forget that you’ll have to leave in the morning.

“Go sit. They won’t take long.” You do as he says, hopping into a stool as you watch him begin to mix the ingredients in a bowl.

Your mind drifted to the last time you saw him. The way his chin quivered when he cried over you, how much it hurt to tell him you weren't ready and that you may never be. It was still true. In a more clearheaded scenario, you probably wouldn't be here with him right now. If alcohol didn't seem like such an inviting bandaid to your aching mind and heart, the feelings you'd been suppressing would likely have stayed suppressed... where you honestly wanted them to stay. Opening yourself back up to be loved by the same man that made you question yourself was still incredibly scary.

"Bon appétit." He placed the plate in front of you.

The waffle was dusted in powdered sugar, a small butter square in the middle was surrounded by sliced strawberries. "Oh... my... god..." You salivated, picking up the fork and knife he handed you and devoured the first bite, moaning in gratitude. "Oh my god." You had no other words.

Kylian laughed, picking up his own fork to dig into his less pretty waffle, standing across from you. "Yeah?"

He didn't get a verbal response back, but knew you meant it upon seeing the manner in which you inhaled every crumb on your plate. Your late night snack was gone too soon and you wanted more, but your drooping eyes and full bladder convinced you that sleep was better.

Kylian took his last bite, grabbing your plates and setting them in the sink. "I think it's bedtime."

You agreed without saying so, hopping off the stool and took the route to the master bedroom. You could walk there with your eyes closed and you might as well have. The sleep deprivation mixed with your drunkenness lead you straight to the dresser, opening up the top chest on your side to grab a t-shirt.

When your crossed eyes looked down at the empty drawer, it was sobering. You let out a shakey breath, clasping your hands in front of you. "Right..."

Kylain stood by the door, frowning at your stillness. The small window of bliss he had with you just seconds earlier shattered upon seeing your sorrowful face looking down at the drawer that used to contain your things, now containing nothing but memories of what used to be.

Silently, he walked over to you, gently shutting it for you. He opened up his side, handing you one of the shirts you left folded for him. One of your favorites. "Here."

You give him an attempt of a smile but don't actually look at him. "Thanks."

He goes to leave the room but you stop him. "Wait. Where are you going? I'll sleep in one of the guest rooms. I'm not taking your bed."

"No, please. You just get some rest, okay?" He almost whispers, taking in the sight of you standing in this room again before he went to close the door.

"Ky?" You breathe, locking your eyes on his. There was something you wanted to say, some words your throat closed up on, leaving you with nothing else but silence. He stayed still, his adoration for you threatening to spill out of him the longer he stared at you. You draw a subtle breath upon feeling your emotions pooling in your eyes. "Thank you."

Kylian felt the weight of your otherwise simple words, taking context from the way you were looking at him. "I'll always be here for you."

With that, he reluctantly closed the door behind him, trudging to the bedroom closest to you.

The room spun as you laid down on your favorite pillow, beyond comfortable under the duvet you picked out yourself. You wished you never went drinking tonight. If you'd just stayed home and pigged out on ice cream you wouldn't have to face the truth that's been slowly crawling to the surface.

Your eyes shut much too quickly to really explore the sentiments you've uncovered tonight, but that's probably for the best.

Kylian's mind was racing and he only hoped you couldn't hear how loud his brain was from the next room. Under the guilt and self-pity he's been swimming in for weeks, he finally felt a sliver of optimism beginning to grow inside of him. It was such a tender feeling, a feeling he let lull him to sleep, content knowing you were just on the other side of that wall.

A/N: The amount of times this deleted..... I was going crazy. Thank god that I started saving every draft on Google Drive or else I probably would have stopped writing out of frustration. Big things coming for (Y/N) and Kylain! Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and I'm sorry about having to make Haaland an asshole bc I really do love him. It was just to move the plot along <3. Also I didn't know all of the soccer terms in english so forgive me if I messed any of that up. Love all of you and thanks for reading!

#kylian mbappe angst #kylian x reader #kylian mbappé imagine #kylian mbappe #kylian mbappé x reader #kylian mbappe smut #kylian mbappe fluff #neymar jr imagine #neymbappe #neymar angst #achraf hakimi x reader #achraf hakimi #futbol imagines #kylian mbappe fic #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe one shot

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honeyhotteoks · 2 years

Text

into the aurora - chapter fourteen (ot8)

chapter fourteen: passing the test

summary: you know now how much harder this is all going to be, but someone is here to help

warnings: PLEASE READ -- for this chapter we're diving deeper into y/n's past and some of her struggles with anxiety and depression. I need to be very clear, there is a panic attack described in detail at the beginning of this chapter. there is also discussion about mental health throughout the chapter. if you struggle with this or find it triggering, please read with caution. otherwise there is some light nsfw/smutty content.

pairings: ot8 x reader

genre: fluff, angst, romance, ateez ensemble x reader, polyamory, non-idol!reader, fem!reader, smut

word count: 7.9K

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Hongjoong didn’t mean anything by his comment, you know it. You know it, but it still puts you in a tailspin. Four weeks of work have gone by, and it isn’t anything like you expected or fantasized about. The work is good, but it became apparent to you quickly that you still have so much to learn, and Eden isn’t a necessarily patient man. The pressure to know more, as fast as possible, is overwhelming and after the day you’ve had today it hits you that maybe it isn’t possible.

Eden hadn’t yelled or said anything cruel, he had just listened to what you prepared with a quiet passivity, shaken his head, and left you alone in the studio room. You had been given your first real piece of something to own, and you had failed. In the kitchen later that night, you tried to ignore the bubbling anxiety about what Monday would bring. When Hongjoong asked how your day was, something in his tone told you he spoke with Eden.

He didn’t mean anything by it when he said it, you know it, but at the words you’ll improve, you started to feel the familiar wave of building panic.

You try to finish the dishes, try to keep the obvious tension off your body and ignore the impending panic attack, but it’s probably clear to anyone who looks at your right that things aren’t okay. Normally when Yeosang presses up against you to drop a kiss on your shoulder you respond well, turn and kiss him, but tonight you throw him a quick smile back and keep your hands busy in the sink. A moment later Seonghwa’s hand brushes along the bare skin of your lower back, and Jongho tries to casually speak with you for the first time in days. You can’t focus on them. You excuse yourself as calmly as you can, making the quick walk to your room, hoping you can control it until you’re behind closed doors.

Panic attacks for you are far less common now, but you’re familiar with the signs. Your heart feels like it’s pounding out of your chest, your hands shaking as you push the door closed behind you and take in a sharp, unsteady breath. Thoughts invade your mind – if you fail at KQ and Eden isn’t interested in giving you time to improve, it’s all going to fall apart. You’ll have nothing left, no reason to stay with them. You had already upended your life by moving cities and getting rid of your apartment. What if you can’t improve at all? What if they had just been wrong about you? They had only heard two or three songs before they made you an offer after all, and Eden hadn’t heard any of your music. He took it on faith in Hongjoong that you were talented, but it’s possible that you just aren’t. This is the thought that takes hold of you and curls itself around your throat.

Seated now in a full-blown panic attack, you reach for the pouch on your desk that contains your medications. You stumble and drop to the floor, wheezing in tiny pants of air and yanking the bag open. You sift through the contents of the small pouch and check but there’s only the two pill bottles with your regular daily medication present. You overturn the bag and spill the contents on the floor, sifting through the mess with shaking hands and still finding nothing.

Tears start to well, your heart slamming against your ribs. Crawling forward you yank the bag that you had used as a carry on at the airport towards you and dig through the pockets – had you taken one of your anti-anxiety pills to calm down before the flight? Did you forget to put it back where you always did? Your hands meet empty pocket after empty pocket and a sob bubbles up out of you.

You don’t hear Mingi come in, only aware of his presence when he crouches on the floor in front of you and closes his hands over yours to still your movements. You look up to him, frantic, and are greeted with his overwhelming calm face. He looks around you, seeing the contents of your pouch scattered on the floor and realizes quickly what you must be searching for. Mingi takes the bag out of your hands and makes short work of checking each pocket, finally locating a bottle at the bottom of the outermost zippered section.

“Here we go,” his voice is steady and soothing. He twists off the top and tips one into his palm, passing it to you.

You swallow it quickly, ignoring the need for water and just trying to choke it down so you can stop the spasming panic overtaking you. Breathing heavy through your nose, you brace your hands against the wood floor and squeeze your eyes shut, willing the medication to hit your stomach and start to take effect. It doesn’t.

Mingi comes to settle behind you and lean his back up against the wall. His warm hands close on your arms and he softly pulls you back to rest between his legs. He cocoons around you, laying your back against his broad chest and wrapping his arms around you. “Do you have a breathing exercise?” he asks, his voice an even tone.

You shake your head once and you know you’re digging your nails into his arm, but he doesn’t flinch.

“Follow me,” he says and rests a wide palm on your chest. “In for four,” and he deeply inhales. “Hold for four,” he stays still, “out for four,” his hot breath passes over your cheek, “hold for four.”

He says nothing but continues to model the breathing and hold you close. You struggle to meet his exact rhythm but close your eyes and separate your mind away from everything, only the steady motion of his chest and the sound of his breath around you. Oxygen rushes your brain, dizzying but welcome, and you drop your head back against his chest as the panic starts to clear off. The combination of your medication and his breathing trick easing you out of it.

Your hands release, dropping into your lap.

“Good,” he murmurs, “but don’t stop.”

You keep pace with him until the feeling of panic makes way for just exhaustion and both of your breathing returns to normal. Blinking up at him you can see the way he is resting his head against the wall, his own eyes closed. “Mingi,” you manage, and he looks down at you immediately, a kind smile on his mouth.

“Better?” he checks.

“Thank you,” you nod.

“Good,” he murmurs, unwrapping his arms from around you and giving you enough space to extricate yourself if you want to.

You stay against his chest for a few moments more, and then push yourself forwards with shaking hands, opting to turn towards him but you’re exhausted, and you stay on your hands and knees in front of him.

“Do you get them often?” He asks, nodding towards your pills.

“Uh,” you search for an excuse as to why you have the medication you do. Up to this point none of them knew you had struggled with anxiety and depression, and while you knew they likely wouldn’t judge you, something about telling them fills you with fear, but Mingi is giving you the most patient and calm look and you find yourself saying, “Not as often anymore, no.”

“Mm,” he nods, “I used to get them a lot too.”

“You did?” You ask quickly, and while you know he had been on hiatus from the group for almost a year, you obviously don’t know the details.

“I had to take a break and get some help,” he says it, matter of fact.

“Did you?” you ask, “get help, that is.”

“Yeah,” he smiles at you, “it took a lot of work, but yeah.”

Silence stretches between you for a few moments, and you move to pack up the bag you turned over, your hands still trembling. Mingi helps, scooping up the scattered items in his hands and dropping them unceremoniously into the pouch. You sigh heavy and gather yourself, knowing the next step is standing up and putting yourself back together and explaining to everyone why you ran off.

Mingi places a warm hand on your back and murmurs, “you’re adrenaline crashing,”

“Yeah,”

“Okay,” he says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world, “let’s get you to bed.”

“It’s too early,” you protest, and he shrugs.

“You need the rest,” he stands and reaches out his hands to you, gently pulling you to your feet and pushing you to the bed. “Don’t complain,”

“Mingi,”

“What?” he tucks more blankets around you like he’s wrapping a burrito.

“I don’t think I can sleep yet,” you tell him.

“I’ll get you some water and some tea,” he says, before turning and heading out your door. He doesn’t even give you an option, so you resign yourself to letting him take care of you.

It’s only eight, and you can hear the low timbre of Mingi’s voice talking to the other members, though you can’t make out the words. You sit up in bed, some of the blankets slipping off you. When your eyes land on your open laptop on your desk, your music mixing software still open to the track you turned into Eden earlier that day, the anxiety bubbles back. It isn’t panic this time, just a steady growing knot in your stomach and you have to wipe away tears. You drop your head back in your hands and control your breathing, not letting the tears overtake and instead just letting the feelings wash over you numbly.

You don’t hear Mingi come back, but you feel the bed dip where he climbs in on the opposite side and you let him pull you into his arms to rest against his chest. His hand coasts firm warm strokes up your spine and he takes one of your hands in his.

After a while he breaks the silence, “What’s got you worked up tonight?”

You sigh against him and sniffle, swiping the sleeves of your sweatshirt against your eyes, “Just a really bad day.”

“At work?” He asks and you pull away from him to sit up next to him. He reaches for the bedside table and passes you a cup of tea, now the perfect temperature to drink.

“I messed up,” you murmur, “I could see it all over Eden’s face, and I just want to do well. I don’t want Hongjoong to think he made the wrong choice offering me the job, and I just want to make you all proud.”

“Ah,” he rests a hand against your thigh, “Eden is hard to please. I’ve been on the receiving end of that face a million times, so has Hongjoong. We all have.”

“You have?”

“I thought he hated me for the first month I was a trainee here,” he smiles at you, “he’s a genius, but he expects a lot from everyone.”

“I was afraid he’d realize I don’t deserve to be here,” you confess quietly.

Mingi shakes his head, “If he thought that you wouldn’t be here at all. He’s pushing you because he wants to see you grow, and he knows you have the ability to do it. Hongjoong knows it too. You’re still young and new to this, we had years of trainee experience before we came to KQ and it was still hard.”

You swallow tightly and exhale through your nose, “you’re right,”

“Yeah,” he replies, and his face says he knows it.

“I think I was just,” you start and shift in bed to face him, “I was afraid things at KQ wouldn’t work out, and then what’s the point in me being here? And then I don’t have a place to go back to, I leased my apartment, I sold my stuff, I moved everything here.”

“First of all,” Mingi is shaking his head and he reaches for you to still your hands and meet your eyes, “we want you here, whether you work with us or not.”

“That’s nice, but I just don’t know how we would make it work,” you say, your anxiety getting the best of you again.

“We’re not going to have to figure that out,” he dismisses your statement, “you’re with us. We’re with you. That was what we all wanted.”

You pause and sigh, dropping your head against Mingi’s chest with a groan, “has anyone ever told you you’re extremely smart?”

He chuckles, “Yeah,”

He rubs your back softly, and you pull yourself back up. “I’m so exhausted,” you murmur.

“I’ll let you sleep then,” he says, squeezing your hand.

“Would you stay?” you ask suddenly, still not wanting to be alone with your thoughts.

“Stay?” his eyes widen.

“Just until I fall asleep?” he still says nothing, so you backpedal, “You don’t have to, I know we haven’t spent a lot of time together yet. If you’re uncomfortable or would rather,”

He cuts you off, “y/n,”

“Yeah-yes?”

“Move over and get the light,”

“Oh,” you push back onto your side and scramble for the light. The room is still somewhat illuminated from the dim light outside in the hallway, and you can see him stand to slide his jeans off before climbing under the covers with you.

“Come here,” he reaches for you, and you move closer. You settle facing each other, but close enough for your legs to tangle together and Mingi to wrap a warm arm around you.

“It’s been so long since I was that anxious,” you confess, “I forgot how exhausted it makes you.”

“Mhm,” he murmurs, “it wears you out.”

You exhale and move closer to him, “Thank you for staying,”

His face is warm and soft, and he reaches to brush your hair away from your cheek and over your shoulder. “Have you always struggled with anxiety?”

“Oh,” you glance down, memories swimming in your mind’s eye, “no, not always. It’s been a few years now that I’ve been dealing with things.”

“Things?” his fingers are soft against your scalp.

You’re not ready yet, not even close, to being able to talk about your past with these men. Despite Mingi’s warmth and how his gaze lacks any judgement, all you can manage is, “I went through a tough time about four years ago and I’ve just been trying to figure it out since,”

He doesn’t push you, just shifts to pull you into his chest and holds you close. After a few moments he says, “I know your entire life is different now, and we’re asking a lot of you. If you need to rest, you can rest with me,”

“Mingi,” you nuzzle closer to his chest.

“You can lean on all of us,” he murmurs into your hair, “we lean on each other all the time. That includes you now too,”

Tears fill your eyes again, hot and clouding your vision, and you press your eyes shut tightly and hide your face in his chest. You know he can hear you sniffling softly, probably feel the warm wet patch growing on his chest where your tears spread on his t-shirt, but he doesn’t push you. Mingi strokes your hair and lets you cry, his arms tightening a little, “y/n,” he finally says, quiet and a little nervous, “are you happy here?”

“What?” You pull back from his chest to meet his eyes, sniffling and blinking back tears.

Mingi smiles, a little sad and sweeps your tears away with the pad of his thumb, his hand how warmly on your cheek, “I just need you to be honest,” he says, “are you happy with us or is this too much?”

“I’m so happy here,” you interrupt him, scrubbing your tears away with your sleeve, “I promise… this is more than I ever could have imagined. Don’t worry about that,”

His expression clears, “Good,”

“It’s just a bad day,” you sigh, “I have those sometimes, today was just a lot out of nowhere.”

“Okay,” he nods, and he leans forwards to kiss your forehead, warm and lingering, before he says, “I get bad days too.”

“What do you do?” You find yourself asking.

“It used to run me over,” he says honestly, “but now I just let myself feel it for a bit. I don’t let it eat me up, but I sit in it for a bit, I figure it out. I don’t push it back anymore, when I did that, it would just all come back like a train at the worst times.”

You’re nodding with him, the feeling so familiar and you squeeze his hand, “Me too,”

“You have your mornings,” he says, and you didn’t even realize he knew about your rigorous routine, “I have my nights.”

“You do?” You ask.

“Mm,” he nods, relaxing into the pillows a little more so he can talk to you comfortably, “I do pilates and breathing exercises, but then after a certain time I just turn my phone off and do a little reading. Get my head clear before sleep,”

“That’s nice,”

Mingi shifts and runs a hand up and down your arm softly, “Do you get bad days a lot still?”

“Not as much anymore,” you tell him honestly.

“Do you,” he glances down and then back up to meet your gaze, “is whatever that happened four years ago something you need to talk about? Would it help?”

A light chill runs up your spine, “No,”

“Okay,” his hand pauses on your arm.

“It’s honestly fine,” you press, “I just don’t like talking about it.”

His eyes tell you he sees straight through you, and you have to look away, his exacting gaze too much to stomach. “Talk to Yunho,” he says and your head snaps back up.

“What?”

“If you ever need to,” he explains, “he helps.”

You hadn’t had much of that time with Yunho yet, and so far, what you had seen of him was the bubbling fun energetic one. He was handsome, easy going, and altogether unbothered, but now that he says it plainly, you have noticed the way he watches Mingi, carefully and kindly. “Yunho helps?” You clarify.

“He’s my best friend,” he says, “and when I took my break he was there. He’s good at helping,”

“I like talking to you,” it slips out of you, and you don’t mean that you can’t talk to Yunho, but right now in this moment Mingi feels safe.

“You can,” he smiles warmly and brushes your cheek, “You always can, but I don’t know that I…” he searches for the right words, “I don’t always know what to say. Yunho knows what to say.”

“Oh,”

“Just think about it,” he lets it be, and he sighs deeply, letting his eyes slip closed while his thumb strokes softly against your skin.

You stay simply like this, breathing the same shared air, your muscles unlocking and relaxing one by one until you feel sunken into the mattress, heavy and sluggish. Sleep feels close, but you keep replaying the images of Yunho and Mingi in your mind. The way that Yunho watches his best friend with pride, but with a studying hesitance in his eyes – like he’s waiting for the moment he needs to swoop in.

“Mingi,” you whisper, not sure if he’s still awake, but when you open your eyes, he’s already looking at you with an easy gaze.

“Hmm?”

“He seems protective of you,” It’s not necessary to explain who, he knows.

“He is,” Mingi smiles, a little sadly, “he’s always been that way.”

“Oh,” you nod, but Mingi continues.

“I think he blames himself,”

“For what?” Your mind flickers with images – your family’s faces suddenly at the forefront and you blink them away.

Mingi pulls you closer, and you’re almost nose to nose as you murmur to each other in the dark, “We were all working really hard, and things were finally coming together for us when I had to step back. I tried to keep it together for a long time but when it finally snapped, it happened really quickly,” you slip your hand into his and hold it softly, squeezing his fingers, “He didn’t know how bad it had gotten, and I think he blames himself for not helping sooner.”

“That’s hard,” you sigh.

“Yeah,” Mingi tightens his hand on yours, “he’s just worried.”

“You’re doing much better though, aren’t you?” He seemed to be, at least.

“Much,” he nods.

“Have you told him that?”

“Mm,” Mingi nods, “but that’s Yunho. He’s a worrier.”

A picture of Yunho was coming together, something much more substantial than just the self-proclaimed team vitamin and energizer. You turn the thoughts over in your mind, but before you can form something solid to say, Mingi shifts and clears his throat a little.

“You should sleep,”

“Yeah,” you sigh, “thank you,”

“For what?”

“Staying,” you answer immediately, “for earlier too. It’s been a harder transition than I thought it would be.”

Mingi nods, but in the dim light you can’t see him well, just his outline in the dim light from under the door and the sound of him rustling against the pillow. “Y/n,” he starts, but his voice cuts off and you’re about to open your mouth and say something, but he dives forwards across the small space between you both and catches your mouth hard against his.

Your teeth bump the inside of your upper lip a little, and you can’t help the little noise of surprise that bubbles out of you. He wraps his arms around you and draws you closer, his lips adjusting and finding the right pressure to try the kiss again. His mouth is soft, his tongue a little hesitant against yours but picking up confidence the minute you start to reciprocate. One of your hands curls into his t-shirt, pulling slightly, and you find one of your legs slotted between his to get closer.

You sigh against him, and he breaks the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours, “Sorry,”

“No,” you tip your head forwards and press another kiss to his lips, “I liked it,”

“You should sleep,” he repeats, and he knows as well as you do that you’re exhausted.

“Yeah,” you nod against his head.

“Then let me hold you,” he adjusts his position and tucks you into his chest, dropping a kiss on your hair, “I’ll kiss you in the morning.”

Your stomach knots at his words, nervous and fluttering and you nuzzle closer to him. His steady warmth is soothing, and it doesn’t take long for the weightless feeling of your limbs to return despite the sudden intimacy between you both.

When you wake, it’s obvious that it’s the wrong time. Mingi sleeps heavily next to you, head back and a light snore sighing out of him with every exhale. The steady tick of the clock on your nightstand thrums like a metronome, and after minutes of holding yourself still and seeking sleep again, you start to replay the day.

You walk through the conversation with Eden, watching his face when your edit of the track started and his passive features. Your mind replays the music, pulling it apart thread by thread. Before you know it, you’re slipping out of bed and pulling the comforter over Mingi, tossing on a heavy hoodie, and curling up in your desk chair.

You pass your finger gently over the trackpad of your laptop and it lights up the room instantly. With a quick glance at Mingi’s still sleeping form, you lower the brightness and pull your headphones on to get to work. The clock in the bottom corner reads two-thirty, and it’s just as well, you always worked better late night. You listen to the song again, the track that was intended to be a guide version for a future comeback. You let it loop and sink into it again.

Things start to click into place somewhere in the back of your brain and you start to adjust things, saving a new version of the file and starting to workshop it again. An hour passes around you, your eyes dry and tired but your creative juices finally flowing again. You’re focused fully when a hand drops on your shoulder and you nearly jump out of your skin, stifling a shriek with your hand clapped over your mouth.

“Mingi!” You pull your headphones off to hang around your neck and sigh, “You scared me!”

“Sorry,” he whispers, “I guess you didn’t hear me calling for you,”

The music from your headphones is loud even now and you blush, pausing the track quickly and twisting in your chair to look up at him.

“What are you doing?” he gestures with a nod of his head towards the computer.

�� “Oh, uh,” you push the laptop to the side so he can see the screen a little better, “I just couldn’t stop thinking about this project and I couldn’t sleep.”

He smiles warmly, leaning down and studying the screen a moment. “Scoot over,” he says.

“What?”

He taps your hip with his hand lightly, “Move,”

You scramble up and he takes your seat. His eyes are still clouded with sleep, and his hair is sticking up every which way in the back, but you can’t help but like how handsome he is when he’s focused like this. One of his wide hands reaches around and takes your hip, drawing you back to his side and into his lap. You stumble into it, but he settles you and pulls on your headphones to listen to what you have so far.

You open your mouth to explain your choices, clarify that it’s unfinished, but he holds a hand up to stop you and presses play with a click of the spacebar. As the song plays, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest, now fully settled onto his lap, and he drops his chin onto your shoulder while he listens. When it ends, he loops it back, his fingers dancing on the keys suddenly as he plays a section over and over again. He pulls off one ear of the headphones and angles to look at your face, “What did Eden say exactly?”

“Not much,” you sigh, “but this isn’t what he heard, he heard this one,” you slide your hands onto the keys and queue up the old version of the song, Mingi’s warm hand coming to settle on top of yours and he nudges the headphone back over his ear with his shoulder and closes his eyes to listen.

When it finishes, he hums and low sound of understanding and pulls the headphones free, “The new one is better.”

“I know,” you sigh.

“It’s a lot tighter,” he continues, “but there’s something,” he chews on his bottom lip slightly and taps his fingers against the desk as he thinks.

“What?”

“This is our next title track,” he says, “Eden would never let someone junior have this much creative control over the guide version.”

“What?” You twist in his lap to look him in the eyes, “I mean he asked me,”

“I know he did, I’m just surprised. He’s never done that before, and we’ve had junior production staff.” Mingi observes, one hand softly stroking the bare skin of your thigh.

You take in his words, staring at your laptop screen and it hits you, “It’s a test.”

“Mm,” Mingi nods.

“He’s not going to use it, he wants to see what I’d do with it,” you shake your head, “I can’t believe him.”

Mingi shakes his head, “I should have guessed,”

“He wants to see if I’ll bring him back a new version, and he wants to see if it’ll be better, doesn’t he?” You twist around in his lap again and study his expression.

A small smile quirks on his mouth and he nods, “He has a way of getting the best out of you, and you don’t even know he’s doing it.”

“Fuck,” you can’t help the sudden curse and the laugh that bubbles up in your chest, “I seriously thought I was just a failure for a second.”

“No, the first version isn’t bad,” he says, “but the second one is more interesting. Here,” His arms reach out around you, and he pulls the headphones over your ears.

With you tucked into his chest, he navigates the song and isolates a fifteen second section to replay you. When it runs through three times he reaches around and picks things up where you left off. He saves a fresh copy of the song, and starts to tweak it, and then he lifts off the right side of your headphones, “What would you change here?”

You work steadily alongside him until sunlight starts to filter into your room, and the song starts to feel finished, maybe not perfect, but so much closer to what you wanted. When you press save for a final time Mingi nudges you and leans back in your chair, dragging you back with him to lean against his chest, “I think you should give it to him today.”

“Yeah?”

“Why not?” he shrugs, “if it’s a test, ace it.”

You grin, sighing against him, “I’m sorry you didn’t get much sleep,”

“It’s fine,” he kisses the side of your head, “it was worth it.”

One of his hands continues to stroke the soft skin of your thigh, the other splayed wide across your belly, his fingertips just barely brushing the skin of your stomach where the sweatshirt has ridden up on one side. You shift in his lap just slightly, and as you do you feel the telltale twitch of something hard and warm under you. Mingi clears his throat and tries to subtly move you so that you’d be situated on one of his thighs and not directly centered on his lap, but all it does is drag you against his half hard cock again.

Reaching down you still his movements with one hand on his thigh, and you arch your back gently, rolling your hips once against him, and you’re rewarded with another twitch, firmer this time as he comes to a full erection.

He says nothing, but you feel his legs widen their stance underneath you, and he slides his hands over your body slowly, holding your hips and rocking you back onto him again. His own hips jut up, thrusting his hard cock against your ass through the layers of clothing.

“Mm,” you sigh pleasantly, fingers tightening on his thigh again, and you let your head fall back onto his broad shoulder.

He seems hesitant, just like the kiss from the night before. His hand slides back to its previous position over your stomach and presses down slightly so you roll your body against him again. Mingi slips his fingers under the waistband of your sleep shorts, just an inch, his eyes on you and looking for some kind of confirmation that you want to do more than just innuendo.

Settling your free hand over his, you guide his hand down, slipping under your shorts and further still under the soft fabric of your panties. Your hand is much smaller than his, but you keep yours resting on top of his when you navigate him lower, pressing his middle and ring fingers down through your folds to find the hard button of your clit.

You can feel him breathing behind you, hear his shallow exhales, and you expect him to move but he doesn’t quite yet, he simply watches. He’s still hard underneath you, jerking his hips with little thrusts every so often just to get some friction on his cock, and you press down more with your fingers to apply pressure to your already aching clit. When you prompt him to circle his fingers he snaps back, and his free arm tightens around you, the rough pads of his fingers working your nub and earning an instant flush of blush through you and warmth in your core.

“Oh,” you widen your legs, and he helps you hook each one over his to hold you open. His lips descend on your neck, nuzzling and sucking at your throat, his fingers darting low to dip into your entrance and dragging the wetness back up to your clit.

Mingi leans back a little more, your desk chair tipping backwards just slightly but his feet are still firmly planted on the ground and holding you steady. In this position your feet don’t come close to the floor, and you’re fully supported and held by his hands and his broad chest.

His fingers speed up slightly and your hand falls away, gripping his other thigh. “More?” His voice comes so low against your ear that you shudder and can only manage a nod, your breath coming in shallow pants. He presses more firmly, rocking his hand faster, and you can’t help but work your hips along with him.

“Oh god, oh god,” you stammer, hot pressure curling in your core, “please don’t stop,”

Mingi groans softly behind you, every thrust of your hips into his hand also brushing against his cock. He snakes a hand up under your hoodie and pulls down the top of the sports bra you had fallen asleep in, freeing one of your breasts so he can palm it, knead it softly, and then focus his attentions on your pert nipple. Pleasure darts from your chest down to your core and you feel yourself close, the pressure tightening inside you.

He dips his fingers to bring more of your wet slick up against your clit and you keen, arching back against him and whimpering, your cheek now pressed against his as you strain, simultaneously trying to get closer to his hand and your hips forcing themselves away. When you come, it’s hard and fast and you jerk forwards, your legs tightening to close and Mingi holds you close and steady, keeping your legs open wide and working his hand quickly to crest you up into your orgasm.

When he’s sure you’re through it, his fingers slow and still, sliding out of your shorts. He readjusts your sports bra so that you’re tucked back in and shifts to just wrap his arms around you tightly, lips resting on your shoulder.

“Oh my god,” you sigh into him, boneless and warm, “you’re good at that,”

He laughs hard against your shoulder, shaking his head, “you’re cute,”

As the haze starts to clear, you feel him still hard against you and you turn your head to kiss him, slowly working your mouth against his and sighing into him. His hands tighten, and you rock your hips against his length again, wetness pooling in your core at the feeling of him.

Mingi groans, his tongue dragging against yours and punctuating the sound with a thrust of his hips when the sharp sound of your alarm echoes through the room.

You break apart, and his hands move to still your hips.

“We have time,” you tell him, “Let me help you at least,”

He shakes his head, craning back and checking the time, “We have an early schedule, I really can’t.”

“Are you sure?”

He sighs into your neck and presses a kiss to your skin, “Yeah, I’m just going to get the coldest shower of my life,”

You smile and turn your head to kiss him softly once more, “Rain check, then,”

“Yeah,” he squeezes your hips and then lifts you off, sitting up and easing you off his lap.

You click off your alarm and sweep your hair up into a bun, and when you look back up at him you can’t help but blush. He’s still hard and straining against his boxers and you clear your throat glance away, he’s clearly bigger than you expected, and you can’t help the way your muscles tense up at the thought of him inside you.

“Come here,” Mingi pulls you towards him by the hand and kisses you again, quicker this time but still warm, a hum on his lips when he leans away, “I’ve got to get ready,”

“Go,” you tell him, nodding, “we’ll pick this up another time.”

He slips out of your room quietly, smiling back at you, and you hear his footsteps fade away, the shower turning on not long after.

You move through your morning routine with ease now, yoga mat down and headphones in. You spend a little extra time on your breathing routine this morning, steadying yourself after last night’s anxiety attack, but spending the night with Mingi had helped more than you knew it would.

When you finish and head out into the kitchen, Yeosang still isn’t up yet, and with their early schedule it’s possible that you might not actually get your morning with him after all. You move slowly through the kitchen, grabbing an apple out of the basket on the counter to wash and bite into, and start making coffee for yourself and tea for Yeosang.

You’re pouring the hot water into his mug when you hear him enter the kitchen, “You’re up earlier than me,” he comments, leaning into you and kissing your temple.

“I woke up at two-something,” you hand him his cup and you watch his brow furrow in concern.

“Are you alright?” He sets his mug down at his usual place and returns to your side, “I was worried about you last night.”

“I’m good now,” you tell him honestly, “it was just a tough day,”

“But you couldn’t sleep?” He cups your cheek.

“Kind of,” you admit, “but it was good I got some work done on something that was bothering me,”

“Don’t overdo it,” he reminds you, “I could see that something was upsetting you yesterday.”

“It’s okay now,” you lean in and kiss him first, “I promise,”

Yeosang nods against your lips and reciprocates, holding you close and his kiss more tender and searching than usual. He pulls away after a moment and takes his tea, “I don’t have long, we all have to leave in about twenty minutes.”

The big block of time on your shared calendar together reminds you they’ll be gone for most of the day into the late evening, a long day of filming and travel. Ji-Ah had lamented the early wake up when you talked to her at dinner the other night, and even Iseul seemed like it was going to be a challenging day even though you rarely saw her ruffled.

“Just relax then,” you tell him, “Can I get you something to eat?”

He shakes his head, “No, we’ll figure that out on the go.”

“If you’re sure,” you move to finish fixing your coffee now that it’s done brewing. You’re reaching back into the fridge to put the cream back when you’re pulled back from the cold door and into a broad tall back, Mingi’s arms wrapping around you.

He hums pleasantly in your ear and kisses the hollow below, his fingers squeezing you softly as he curls over you from behind. You light up with a giggle, surprised but happy to be in his arms again and you cuddle back into him, “Hey,” you sigh.

“You’re too cute,” he kisses your neck, “now I can’t keep my hands off you.”

Blush flares up your cheeks when you realize he’s being so affectionate and forward in the very public space of the kitchen with Yeosang mere feet away, and you slap his arm softly, “Mingi!”

“What?” His voice sounds pouty.

You step to extricate yourself from his arms, but he holds you firmly, but the side-stepping motion has you both turn away from the fridge and counter towards the rest of the kitchen facing out to the main living space. You blush deepens when you realize you have more of an audience than you realized.

Yunho and San stand together, and while San has a knowing, wry smile on his lips, Yunho looks more surprised than anything, and you wonder if he’s ever really seen Mingi with a girl before or even really a crush before. You know they’ve dated before you, but this type of intimacy usually doesn’t have your best friend as an audience member.

Yeosang is smiling into his tea, suppressing a laugh, and you catch Hongjoong behind them rushing into the room and gathering his things scattered around the shared living into his backpack. It takes him a minute, but he catches sight of you both too and stops short.

“What?” Mingi asks the group, shrugging but not letting you go.

“This is new,” San chuckles, and he sighs, “also very cute,”

“Oh my god,” you drop a hand over your face.

“Mingi, you’re late,” Hongjoong says, a pointed look on his face and you realize that Mingi is behind you wearing nothing but a t-shirt and boxers, his skin still somewhat damp from the shower and his hair dripping on you.

“Fine, fine,” he grumbles, dropping a wet kiss on your cheek before untangling himself and jogging out of the room.

Yunho watches him go and smiles, shaking his head. You’re about to try and say something now that Mingi’s left you alone and blushing in the middle of the kitchen, but San who is already cleaned up and ready to go for the day moves in to kiss you, “Good morning,”

“Morning,” you kiss him back, but it’s quick, and he slides past you into the kitchen to fix himself some coffee.

You clear your throat and look back up at the rest of them, “Can I get anyone coffee for the road? I know you have to leave soon,”

Yunho nods, “Do you mind?”

“No, no, I got it. Hongjoong?” You start to fire up the espresso machine and pull down a few of their travel cups from the cupboards.

“Um, yeah, yes, Americano?”

“Got it,”

Yeosang finishes off his tea quickly and deposits the mug in the sink, pressing a kiss to your hair, “I’m heading out, but have a good day at work.”

“You too, be safe,” you catch him for one more quick kiss, and he smiles wide before recovering and heading out of the room.

San slides close, reaching across you for the sugar for his coffee, and you know he must be tired if he’s choosing to have any caffeine. You focus on finishing the first cup of coffee for Yunho, the room behind you getting louder as the rest of the boys pile into the room and get organized for their long days. You can hear the voice of one of their managers splitting them up into the appropriate cars and reiterating that they had to leave in ten minutes, no exceptions.

“I’ll see you tonight,” you murmur to San, knocking him with your hip slightly and he grins at you.

He nods, “You might be asleep by the time we get home, but we’ll text you.”

“Okay,” at the sound of their manager rallying Wooyoung and Jongho into their shoes you laugh and give San another nudge, “you better get going. Stay safe,”

He parts with a kiss, and you finish putting the lids on Yunho and Hongjoong’s travel cups. Mingi skids back into the room behind you and grabs your attention though one last time as he yanks a sweatshirt over his head.

“Hey,” he kisses you quick, “I left you something on your desk, so check it before work.”

What he would have left you, you have no idea, but you nod, “Okay, sure.”

“Remember what we talked about,” he says, and you feel a sudden flutter of nerves knowing the rest of the boys are within earshot, “and… text me if you need to. I don’t want you to feel,”

“I’m okay,” you interrupt him, “just focus on the shoot.”

He nods and kisses you once more before heading back to the door and out to one of the waiting vans. Yunho approaches slowly then, and you pass over his coffee. “You better get going,” you tell him.

He accepts it gratefully, but catches your hand in his for a moment, “See you tonight,” he says, even though it looks like there’s something else there, something held back on his tongue that he’s not saying.

“Tonight,” you squeeze his hand, “now, go before your manager blames me for making you all late.”

You turn the tone positive again, cheerful, and he seems to relax. He kisses your forehead quickly and throws you a wink, turning cheeky again before he’s out the door behind the rest of them.

You’re left with Hongjoong, and he calls over his shoulder to let them manager know he’s grabbing one more thing before he ducks in the kitchen with you. The same tension knot from the night before locks in your gut and you pass his coffee over quietly, still a little nervous about what he said and what might have been shared between him and Eden the day before.

“y/n,” he starts, but seems to struggle to find the right words.

“Don’t worry, just get going or you’ll be late,” you smile, trying to lighten the tension.

“Can we talk later?” He asks.

“Of course, Hongjoong,”

“I owe you an apology,” he says, his voice soft.

“You really, really don’t,” you reach for him, resting your hand on his arm, “It was just a tough day, but I’m a big girl.”

“I still feel terrible, I know I upset you,” his eyes flick down.

“It’s okay,” you shake your head and squeeze his arm softly, “I’m good. I have a new version to show Eden today, I worked on it last night.”

“You what?” He looks back up, eyebrows raised high, “You do?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “so don’t be worried about me. I’ll even text you and tell you what he thinks, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees, “you better.”

“I will, now go before someone drags you out of here.” With a glance at the clock you can see for once Hongjoong is running a few minutes later than everyone else, and you’re sure none of them will let him live it down.

“You’re right, okay,” he steps back, “thank you for the coffee.”

He’s gone in a flash, and you’re alone once more in the quiet dorms. You have an hour before you have to leave for work, and you finish your coffee slowly at the counter, thinking through your day. It isn’t until you are rushing to pack up your bag to meet your ride that you remember that Mingi left you something.

You scan the desk quickly and then you see it. A note is tucked under the corner of your medication bottle, and you read the hasty writing quietly to yourself.

Take these with you today, just in case.

Call me if you need to.

Pass the test. Give Eden the song. It’s good.

Your fingers pass over his handwriting as you read it again, and again. Pass the test.

You slip the bottle into your bag, tuck Mingi’s note in your pocket, and go to work.

💌 - taglist: @butterfliesinthenightsky @stitch3s @flowerboykun @theartofhotchinthesnow @spookydanielle @mangislovur @inarinabina @justanotherkpopstanlol @parkurhope @bikou0327 @teti-menchon0604 @becauseiloveyunho @stardustmoonlightteaandbooks @yeosangsbiceps @auhhrii @multifandomizer @softsugababes @amazingly-amazing-loser @bangtanxberm @nyxmoon @xosim @arkive78 @elk-1998 @tenebrisirae @mysticfire0435 @jo-hwaberry @ddeonghwva @meginthebuilding27 @sookacc @noonaishere @lucenchan @asjkdk @yunhosprettyhand @realliquanzhe @simplyaghostsworld @blueevelvt @8tinytings

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casuallyimagining · 10 months

Text

When September Ends // part four.

Min Yoongi x female reader

Summary: Six years after leaving your home planet, you’re forced to confront your past… and the one you left behind. Word Count: 3,322 Genre: Star Wars au, friends to enemies to lovers, angst Warnings: minor character death, survivor's guilt, yoongi has anger issues, mentions of the death of an entire planet, anxiety, alcohol, reader character suffers from the burden of high expectations, mentions of torture (nothing explicit), mentions of needles, hospitalization, brief descriptions of scarring, brief descriptions of panic, hospitalization, an assassination attempt, a gun fight, murder

Notes: Thanks to @daechwitatamic and @the-boy-meets-evil for listening to me complain about this fic, helping me plan, and beta-ing for me; to @oddinary4btsfor the late-game encouragement and edits.

Playlist: All of the poetry in this fic has been pulled from various songs and poems. You can find all the songs (and some others) in the playlist that I made for this fic on Spotify.

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Once a month, the academy closes during the week to give the teachers a day to get organized. It’s probably nice for the teachers, but you really don’t care. It’s a day that you don’t have to worry about your studies too much. Instead of being stuck at home alone–where, inevitably, you would have been tempted to work on future lectures and assignments–you’ve been dragged out into town by your partner in crime.

You’ve taken over a bench near one of the bars in town. It’s closed, so the area isn’t particularly busy, which means that while there are people going about their days, they aren’t particularly bothered by a pair of teenagers sprawled out on a bench. You’re reading, your elbow on the arm rest, curled fist supporting your cheek, datapad balanced in your lap. Yoongi sits beside you, his leg tucked up into his body, his focus on the people going about their business around you.

He paws at your knee gently, trying to get your attention without making a big deal of it. When you finally look up from your datapad and to him, he nods in the direction of two men near a door to one of the shops. It’s a speeder parts store, based on the sign above the window.

“Didn’t pay his bill,” Yoongi whispers, scooting closer so that he’s practically right up against you.

He’s been doing this since you were little, watching people go about their days and making stories up about them. When you were six, the stories were much more fantastical, full of pirates and long lost princesses and intrigue and fancy. Now, you’ve grown up–almost ready to graduate from the academy and move on to work in the factory–and things are much more mundane. Yoongi’s made-up stories focus more on daily chores, personal squabbles, budding romance. They’re still fun, though, so when he begins this one, you hum and nod along.

“It must have been a while. See how red parts guy’s face is?” Sure enough, the shopkeeper’s face is as red as it would be if he’d been out in the wind in the middle of winter. He crosses his arms, and you both laugh.

The other man shouts something you can’t quite make out. He throws his arms out to his side and stomps his foot a little. Clearly, he’s just as angry.

“He doesn’t like being called a thief,” Yoongi explains. “And I think he might not have gotten his bill.”

“Oh that sucks.” You chuckle. “Can’t really pay your bill if you don’t have one.”

The shopkeeper explodes in a fit of rage, poking the other man in the chest. They yell at each other until finally, they disappear into the store. You can still hear their muffled yelling as the door closes behind them.

“Going to check the records,” Yoongi explains. His shoulders shake with a laugh, and he’s so close that it jostles you a little.

For a while, he goes quiet, and you go back to your datapad. He leans against you a little as you sit there, pulls his leg up to his chest and watches the people of Fest go about their day. You tune almost all of it out, your book on the history of comms technology holding your attention.

That is, until a hand is shaking your knee, asking for your attention once again.

You wake up in the snow. Your entire body hurts in so many ways, and it’s nearly impossible for you to stand up. Your veins hurt, you’re covered in bruises–on your arm, yes, but your eyes feel slightly swollen and there’s an ache in your abdomen that you barely remember the cause of but know that it will be a problem for a long time–and you’re fairly certain that you have at least a few broken bones, particularly your ribs.

You almost don’t even notice that it’s freezing, you’re so warm from your body’s reaction to the injuries. But it is cold and windy, and you should get somewhere safe as quickly as possible.

Looking around, you’re in the same area you had been. The Empire’s temporary buildings are gone, Grafner and his troopers are gone, the ship you had followed to get you into this mess is gone. It’s weird. Everything’s just… gone. But you don’t have time to dwell on it. A strong gust of wind nearly knocks you over. You orient yourself in the direction of the Talzi village and set off.

It’s a challenge, dragging yourself through the snow like that. Thankfully, the ground is mostly flat, with only a small hill here or there that’s barely a bump. But the snow is deep, and you’re so tired. You stumble and fall, crumpling onto the icy ground. For a moment, you lie there, contemplating your next moves, but eventually, you stand and manage to brush yourself off.

There’s no way you could make it all the way to the Talz village like this. But maybe you could at least make it to the rocky outcroppings before the sun sets fully.

Fuck, it’s cold.

You manage to find a place to settle in where you’re surrounded on three sides by the rocks. At least now you don’t have to worry about the wind. It’s a decently sized crevasse, big enough for you to lay down in and some extra. The snow has piled up from the occasional gust of wind–it’s so high that it could come up above your knees in some places near the walls–but you feel safe enough for the moment, so you let your mind shift from finding shelter to finding help.

The Talz are out of the question. Without Tee, you can’t communicate with them, and there’s no way you could signal to them, anyway. That just leaves…

You pull the commlink out of your pocket. It’s small, barely wider than two of your fingers, and Grafner and his trooper goons had broken the range extender when they’d brought you in. It’s a long shot, but maybe you can at least get it to connect to the long-range comms setup you have in the village.

It hurts to sit down, your skin feels like it’s on fire as you slide down the rocky wall, your muscles pulling and flexing as you move. You let out a hiss of pain as you unceremoniously plop the last few meters to the ground. This had better work, because you’re not entirely sure that you’ll be able to stand up again on your own.

You fiddle a bit with the communicator, pressing buttons and, when that doesn’t work, opening up the small panel on the side to look at the insides. Nothing seems to be wrong with it, so you try everything, using some snow to clean off one of the wire ports, blowing on the internals to try to dislodge any dust or debris that might be interfering with function. You even smack it against the heel of your hand a couple times, though you immediately regret the action because pain shoots up both of your arms.

You’re almost ready to give up when it finally lights up, signaling that it has made a stable enough connection to your gear back in the village. You breathe a sigh of relief and relax for just a moment. Unfortunately, that may have been the easy part.

Now you actually have to try to send a message.

The obvious solution is to try to call to one of the other rebels stationed across Orto Plutonia. They’re the closest, and would be familiar with the terrain enough that they could probably find you fairly easily. The only problem is that you haven’t memorized any of their frequencies. They’re saved in a file on your datapad, which is sitting back in the village on one of the storage crates in your hut.

You could try one of the general frequencies and hope that a rebellion ship was in one of the nearby star systems. But, of course, there’s no guarantee that it would be a rebel ship that picks up your distress call.

There’s a third option, but it’s just as far-fetched and unlikely to work. Yet as the minutes passed and the adrenaline from waking up free slowly wears off, you kind of favor this choice. It’s a longshot, but at this point, so is your survival at all. The sun is setting quickly and the wind is picking up. It won’t be long before the temperatures dip far below freezing.

Grafner had kept your coat.

So really, what’s the difference? You could freeze to death waiting for someone to come rescue you, or you could freeze to death waiting for someone to come rescue you knowing that you did everything you could to make things right. You know the frequency by heart. It would be the same as when you were kids. All you have to do is dial it in on your communicator and hope.

Maybe he’s listening.

Yoongi lays in his bunk, staring at the bunk above. It’s Namjoon’s, and thankfully, the man barely sleeps, because when he does, it’s like the whole ship is exploding. It’s really not even that late, Yoongi’s just being a pouty bitch. And because he recognizes that he’s being a pouty bitch, he’s allowing himself to wallow a bit.

He doesn’t like feeling like he’s being scolded.

And what the fuck does Seokjin know, anyway? The older man thinks that he’s being helpful, but really, he’s kind of just being a know-it-all. He feels for Seokjin, he does. It would really fucking suck to lose your entire home planet in an instant. Yoongi can’t imagine what he’d do.

Except he kind of can. His brother is dead, his father jailed, all because of the Empire’s greed. His comrades in arms–his friends–are all dead. You’re off who knows where doing who knows what because he can’t control his fucking emotions. So sure, Yoongi hasn’t lost his entire planet, but he’s come pretty close to losing his entire world.

He should have apologized when he had the chance. Back on Hoth, before you’d left, he’d wanted to apologize. That’s why he’d even come to the hangar bay that day. He should have just sucked it up and apologized, talked about it with you like a rational person. But no, he had to fly off the handle–like he always seems to do nowadays–and make you feel like an asshole. And now, he might never get the chance again.

Maybe Seokjin was right.

Yoongi pulls the pillow from under his head and buries his face into it. Maybe if he concentrates hard enough, the cot will open up and swallow him whole. It would probably be a better fate than whatever this is.

His commlink trills, an incoming message. But he ignores it. More than likely, it’s not urgent. His comms are tuned to his personal frequency. Well, it’s not his personal frequency, but it’s one he’s been using since he was a kid, and it’s not like he’s the one the rebellion will contact if they need something. They’ll contact Namjoon. Or Admiral Una, the Mon Calamari in command of the cruiser.

Two minutes later, it beeps again. And then again, two minutes after that. Yoongi groans and stands, ready to throw the stupid thing out of the airlock, but he presses the button to receive the message anyway. Whatever it is, it had better be good.

“Yoongi?” It’s crackly and staticy, but he can make your voice out, clear as day among the white noise. “It’s me. I…” The static cuts off your next few words. It must be a bad connection. But then you fade back in. “...die tonight and I just…” Again static cuts you off. “...be my best friend. Don’t…. hard on yourself, okay? I…” There is no static, no crackles, nothing to cut you off except your own thoughts. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

The light on his commlink goes out. Yoongi squeezes the device so hard, he’s pretty sure it might snap in half. But it doesn’t. Instead, it trills again. Another incoming message. Quickly, he plays it.

“Yoongi?” The same crackles and static. “It’s me. I…” You must have put the message on loop.

He runs out of his quarters, doesn’t even bother to put on shoes or change out of his sleep clothes. Just bolts for the door to find Namjoon.

He’s in the cruiser’s officer’s lounge with Seokjin. They’re talking quietly among themselves, sipping on short glasses of amber liquid. Both men look up, shocked, when Yoongi bolts in.

“You look like you’re about to have a heart attack,” Namjoon notes, gesturing to an empty seat at their table.

“Or like you’ve seen a ghost,” Seokjin adds, shoulders shaking with a laugh.

Yoongi shakes his head. “We have to go. We have to go now.” Namjoon raises an eyebrow, and Yoongi just slaps his commlink onto the table, pressing play on the repeated message.

He’s never seen Namjoon or Jin move that fast.

Yoongi can’t concentrate. Namjoon has been barking orders both in the comms and to him and Seokjin for a good while now, but he can’t bring himself to listen. As soon as they took off in the light freighter, his brain had entered a tunnel, his focus solely on getting planetside and finding you. He’d heard something vague about contacting others on the planet and something about a translator, but it had all been background noise.

He doesn’t think he’s been this anxious, this nervous in six years–since he’d found out you’d left Fest without a word. There’s enough adrenaline coursing through his veins to keep him going for days. His stomach is in knots.

This is my fault. It repeats in his mind like a mantra. We wouldn’t be here if I hadn't been such an ass. She was trying to escape from me.

First chance he gets, he’s going to talk to you. Like an adult. No yelling, no anger. Just… talking. Maybe he can patch things up. Or, at the very least just apologize.

You deserve that much.

“We’ll be landing in five minutes.” Namjoon’s voice from the cockpit cuts through Yoongi’s thoughts.

“I’m picking up two signals. One’s pretty strong. I’m assuming that’s her main unit in the village.” Seokjin is stationed at the ship’s comms rig. “The other is weaker. I can’t really get a handle on it.”

“Maybe her commlink?” Namjoon offers. He presses a button and flicks some switches on the control panel. Yoongi can feel the ship’s landing gear start to extend.

Seokjin hums. “Could be. Or… didn’t you say she had a droid?”

“Tee, yeah.” Yoongi nods, and crouches down to look at Seokjin’s monitor. Sure enough, there’s one big blip and one that’s smaller on the radar. There’s a small flicker, too, about a kilometer from the biggest blip. He taps the screen where the flicker is. “What’s that?”

“Dunno.” Seokjin squints and leans in to get a better look. “Could be interference.”

As they get closer to the planet’s surface, they watch the flicker get stronger. They touch down, and the ramp extends, and the flicker has become a full-blown blip.

One of the other reconnaissance officers stationed on the planet meets them at the edge of the village. Yoongi can’t help but notice that Namjoon parked the ship right beside what he presumes is your ship.

“Major Kim!” the officer says, saluting. “I tracked the major signal we picked up to a hut in this village. It’s a long-range communications and encryption system. I’m assuming it was the major’s?”

“Right.” Namjoon pulls a portable tracker out of his coat pocket. Yoongi can see the big signal from the long-range system right there near the center of the tracker. “Fan out. Seokjin, you and the captain go check the north sector. Try to find the source of that signal. Yoongi and I will sweep the southeast, check out that flickering signal we saw earlier.”

They separate, and once they’re out of the village, Namjoon hands Yoongi the tracker. “Something to focus on,” he says quietly.

The snowfields are eerily quiet. It’s mostly flat, and the winds whip across the frozen ground uninhibited. It’s bitter cold, but thankfully the sun is starting to rise. Seeing the conditions on Orto Plutonia, Yoongi’s losing heart by the moment. It hadn’t been long since your message had first come through, but in conditions like this, short though the nights were, hypothermia could set in quickly.

They make good time on the speeders, racing across the snow faster than they ever could on foot. The landscape changes as they move southeast. Rocks dot the field, growing in size and number, meeting up with cliff faces and tall outcroppings. But even with all the rocks, there’s almost no real cover–no caves that he can see, no real divots in the rockface.

They slow and park the speeders. It would be too dangerous to use them here with all the rocks.

“We’re close,” Yoongi notes, pushing a button on the tracker to fine-tune it. The display changes, zooms in more. Hopefully this could help them nail down an exact location. “That way.”

He points toward a flat area that looks stomped down. Something had been here. Something big. But he has no real way of knowing what it was, and it’s gone from his mind almost as soon as it had entered. His focus is on the tracker, turning this way and that, taking a couple steps in a direction just to see how the signal moves.

“Over here!” Namjoon’s shout draws his attention. The major has found a small outcropping, not very large but also not very small.

As Yoongi moves toward Namjoon’s discovery, the signal gets closer on the tracker.

One side of the outcropping is a craggy wall–rocks fall down from above every so often as the wind shifts. The whole thing is kind of like a cave without a roof, with three sides protected from the wind and blowing snow. It doesn’t go very far, and there’s no sign of life inside.

But that can’t be. The signal is coming from here. They’re literally right on top of it. Or maybe under it? No, there’s no way you would have been able to climb the rocky walls on your own. Yoongi walks this way and that, trying to triangulate a precise location for the signal. His foot comes into contact with something fairly solid. It’s nothing much, just a hard-packed band of snow near one of the walls.

Suddenly, he’s transported back 20 years. You’re children, playing in the snow on Fest, a rare day off from school due to the weather. The two of you have been playing all day, building snow forts and little huts. Your mother had been worried that the two of you would freeze playing outside all day, but his brother had said that–

“Snow is an insulator,” Yoongi whispers, mostly to himself.

He drops to his knees, starts to brush the looser snow from the packed mound. It’s not very big, but the more he digs, the more it looks intentional. “Give me a hand!” He doesn’t even need to yell, Namjoon’s right there in an instant, shoveling through the snow with his gloved hands.

Yoongi can feel the sting in his hands from the cold–his gloves do nothing when they’re damp–but he powers through it. He can live with a little bit of stinging in his fingertips. He brushes snow off something black, his hand making contact with a solid form. Namjoon steps away briefly, but Yoongi barely registers it. He continues to dig. His face is stinging now, too, and his vision gets blurry, but he’s able to uncover enough to get his arms under.

Namjoon helps him carry you to the speeders.

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I'd love to know what you thought! my ask box is always open for screaming, thoughts, or questions!

#yoongi x reader #yoongi #suga x reader #suga #min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #bts #bts au #star wars au #bts star wars au #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi angst #suga fluff #suga angst #min yoongi fic #suga fic #bts fic #bts x reader

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florent1s · 1 year

Text

Saccharine Hearts ( i )

Pairing: Aemond x Reader

Summary: To fall in love with Aemond is one thing. But to question if he truly existed is another. Warnings: angst? A/N: Hello! This is a time skip into what their relationship is like years after meeting as children. All writing is just for fun 🫶🏼. Also, I like to add songs that give a little inspo to the story/I think describe the relationship. And a thank you to @oneeyedvisenya and @inthedayswhenlandswerefew for both being so kind and cool and inspiring me to write 🩷.

Song Inspo:

“Hate you? You are the reason I exist, the reason I breathe. At night when I lie awake, it is you who fills my thoughts. Don’t you dare claim I hate you when it is you who makes my heart sing. To question my love for you is to question my very being.”

“… at God’s Eye- are you listening?”

Septa Arsa looks at you intently, and once she realizes you are daydreaming she slaps your wrist. The stinging of your skin rouses you from your thoughts.

“What was that for?” You quipped with irritation.

“The history of the realm is an important subject. Being a lady doesn’t excuse you from knowing such things.”

Septa Arsa places the book in front of you and points at the text. With a roll of your eyes, you thrust the book away and rise from your seat.

“There was no need for that. I was listening to every word.” You quickly make way for the door but Septa Arsa stops you.

“Then tell me, child, what have we learned today?” She extends her arm and places her hand on the wall, blocking your path for escape.

This was a daily occurrence. Septa Arsa has taught you many things as you grew older. From sewing to proper etiquette required of a high-born lady. But when it came to the histories of the realm, that was when you wouldn’t even bat an eye. It always ends in two ways. You pretend to listen or leave before she can stop you.

“… we were learning about a battle. A battle I particularly have no interest in nor care for.”

Without another word, you brush past her, leaving Septa Arsa to her thoughts. Upsetting Septa Arsa was never your intention. She is more of a mother to you than your own. Septa Arsa was the only one other than Aemond that sincerely understood you. Yet you could not help your distaste for her constant lessons on the histories of Westeros. As of late, your father has been speaking to you about the possibility of marriage. The thought of becoming betrothed to someone who wasn't your beloved gives you an unpleasant taste in your mouth. You intend to put a hold on your father's plans for your love. For Aemond.

Despite knowing Aemond for years, he would never describe the details of his life. The more you pry it would drive him away. So you left it as it was, as two people slowly but surely falling in love with one another. Even as children, he rarely spoke of his family or where he came from. The one time he gave you a glimpse of his personal life was when he lost his eye. Wanting a dragon seemed unbelievable, though you wouldn't tell him that. Most times, it seemed as if your presence was more than enough to keep him at ease. Holding you in his arms as you ramble about nonsense. Providing a hum or a nod of the head to let you know he was still listening. With Aemond, you were always such an open book. His closed-off personality made you question whether he truly is fond of you. Unbeknownst to you, your heart would be put at ease tonight.

You are very punctual, especially when it comes to Aemond. He always wanted you there at the same time on the same day. Your attempts to convince him to meet more than once a week were always denied. Aemond was as stubborn as he was handsome. Despite it all, you found yourself falling for him. As the both of you grew older, his touches grew more affectionate. Going from a kiss on your forehead to the corner of your mouth. Shy hand holding to placing you in his lap while he rests his head on your shoulder. The comfort the two of you gave one another was enough to make your heart flutter. So why won't he court you? Why hasn't he offered to take you elsewhere? Perhaps you took his affections the wrong way.

That night you arrived late, something you knew he wouldn't appreciate. You couldn't help it since your father kept you within his sights. He had presented you to every eligible lord in hopes one of them would inquire about a betrothal. There was only one man you desired most in this world, yet you could tell no one. As you make your way through the clearing there he was. Aemond paces around the tree, once he sees you he looks relieved, though it's quickly replaced with irritation.

Before he can say anything, you run up and hug him tightly. His body tenses from your touch till finally, he envelops you in his arms.

"I know... I know that I am late. But just this once, just-"

Aemond cuts you off by holding your face in his hands. Though his face remains stoic, he always showed his emotions through his touch.

"You talk too much"

Your cheeks burn, and your eyes flit to the floor, much to your chagrin.

"Look at me," he says gravely, his hand reaching down to tilt your face.

Without another word, he kisses you and suddenly all of your doubts flood away.

A moment after, you rest your head on his shoulder. The strong scent of leather and smoke engulfs you. A smile graces your features as you hold him close.

"My father wishes to wed me to the first lord who shows an interest. How does that make you feel?" Your voice lingers in the air, and Aemond grows silent.

"That... that is quite unfortunate", Aemond exclaims quietly. His grip on you tightens though his face remains expressionless.

His words make your blood run cold and suddenly you pull away from him. Your hands ball into fists and tears threaten to spill from your eyes. He reaches for you put you hold out a hand to stop him.

“Unfortunate? That is all you have to say to me? After all these years? I wait every morning and every night until I get to see you again. Regardless of how often you shut down any plead I presented towards you. To see you more often, to know you, to love you. Had I known you hated me, I would have never come back here over and over again.”

Your words make Aemond tick and before you can react, he forces you against the tree, the air leaving your lungs. The chill of the night creates a fog as the two of you breathe heavily. Seeing Aemond this enraged makes your heart want to leap out of your chest.

"Then why must our love be confined within such boundaries? It is you I want. Not some drunken old lord who wishes to wed me only to disregard my presence. What are you afraid of? If you are from a lower house, that is of no importance to me." you let out an exasperated sigh as you cling to his arm.

Aemond clenches his jaw and scoffs, "A Targaryen is above all." he mumbles under his breath.

"A what? Speak clearly. I don't understand." your lip trembles as you grow weary.

"It is too late, I must go now. Tomorrow we meet again. Do not be late this time."

Aemond kisses you one last time before vanishing into the forest.

#hotd fic #aemond x reader #aemond fic #house of the dragon fic #aemond targaryen

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sarasarami10 · 1 year

Text

Avatar boys ( Neteyam) x exhausted introvert reader SFW

(I think I’ve seen this concept before but still wanted to do it my way)

(Basing this on my own experience as an introvert btw)

Warning: not a lot except maybe anxious Neteyam and a lot of fluff.

Reader has had their consciences transferred so that why they possess human stuff (idk how they would survive as introvert whitout a good depressing song and a comfy hoody)

(Takes places at the metkayna village)

Word count :900

*=actions

[my owns thought and feelings]

Author’s note: wrote this in my notes at 11pm so sorry if there are many errors.

ENJOY!

Neteyam :

- You had been extremely social all week but for the past 3 days you couldn’t bare to see anyone, not even your boyfriend neteyam.

- Of course you would get out of your room to eat with your family and other stuff but you praticaly didn’t leave your bed, either listening to sad/calm music or watching your favorite old human tv shows on you tablet. ( just relaxing really)

- The first day he didn’t really mind it. He had asked one of your sibling about you and they just said you were tired and resting at home.

- He didn’t really thought anything of it, it was true you really look exhausted the day before.

- But by the third day he started to become anxious. Your siblings didn’t have any new news of you, and honestly he didn’t understood how someone perfectly healthy could just sleep for 3 whole days.

- At this point he thought this was only an excuse to not see him which kinda made him sad, had he done something wrong or did you just suddenly stopped liking him.

- By the end of the day he decided that he had had enough and when straight to your Maori after finishing his daily tasks.

- Upon arriving at your home he saw your sibling and asked them if he could go see you. Your sibling pointed at you room and left.

- It was the first time he had been inside your room. The first thing he noticed was the many human things you had. Their was a pile of heavy looking clothes on the ground some colourful shiny trinkets hanging from the roof and you, laying there on you mattress, eyes closed, wearing a wierd top with puffy sleeves and a hood over your head (a hoodie yess).

- Seeing you asleep and not wanting to wake you up too brutally, he sat down on the floor next to your mattress and softly patted your arm to wake you up.

- You awoke from your nap and saw neteyam standing over you. You pulled your hood back revelling some weird thing that almost looked as if they were stuck in your ears (neteyam pov)

- « Hello pretty boy. What are you doing here ».

- « Why are you ignoring me…? »

- « Huh? I’m not ignoring you ? »

- « Yess you are. If not why haven’t I see you since three days ago, huh? »

- « Hahaha. I’m not ignoring you… I just didn’t went anywhere »

- « liar. How could someone sleep for three whole days »

- I didn’t just sleep… I made a few jewelry, I drew for a bit I watch my fav movies… but I mostly just slept and listen to music. »

- *genuenly confused* « why? »

- « Idk.. I just didn’t felt like doing much I was just… really tired »

- *not convinced* « haha how can someone be that tired? You didn’t even do anything physically demanding lately. »

- « Well cause I wasn’t tired in that way »

- *lays next to you facing you* « what do you mean? »

- « Well… sometimes… when I spend too much time with other people, especially exited people like children, or your brother and aonung *he smiles* my energy just get drain really fast. So I need to take some time to myself to recharge my batteries. »

- « Oh… now that I think about it… I think it happened to kiri once…. She didn’t left her room for two days. Even my dad started to worry. *You giggle* So ? What do you ueselly do to « recharge your batteries »

- You look at Him smiling and take out one of your earplug to show him.

- « I put these bad boys on and listen to some of my favorite tunes. »

- « What are they?»

- « Earphones. You put them in you ears and music comes out of it, kinda like to thing your dad makes you use to communicate [as you can see I have just remember they have those but anyways]

- He look confused but you were too tired to try to explain to him bluethoot so you just putted it in his ear and pushed to play button.

- A calming song started playing. Even tho neteyam could understand most of the lyrics, he couldn’t really understand their meaning which kinda annoyed him.

- « What are you wearing? »

- « It’s called a hoodie. »

- « Aren’t you too warm with that on? »

- « No not really, it’s more for comfort angways »

- He turned his attention back to the music but after seeing him giving it too much thinking for a while, you putted your hand on his face to shift back his focus on you, softly stroking it with your thumb *gaves you a small smile*.

- You stayed like that, looking at each other just enjoying your company until you noticed him fall asleep.

- You pushed yourself closer to him, his face resting in the crook of your chest softly stroking his hair until you too found sleep.

END for neteyam.

There is a 90% chance that a do a loak version but for aonung and rotxo it will depend how much you guys like this I guess.

#avatar the way of water #avatar twow #avatar fanfiction #avatar x reader #neteyam #avatar neteyam #avatar james cameron #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam fluff #neteyam sully

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osbornenthusiast · 8 months

Text

octogoblin headcanons under the cut because I love them so much

(Very minor cw for nosebleeds on this first one)

Otto gets nosebleeds all the time. Like, once or twice a week. Norman has woken up to Otto just sitting on the bed with a paper towel on his nose like a thousand times.

Additionally, Norman is a BIG TIME GERMAPHOBE and he always has been. Tying that back to Ottos nosebleeds, Norman refuses to get anywhere near Otto while his nose is bleeding. If Otto’s nose started bleeding in bed, the entire bedspread is getting washed. Norman doesn’t care if there isn’t a single drop of blood on the bed, he will be deep cleaning it.

These two have complete opposite sleep schedules. Otto usually doesn’t fall asleep until around 2-3 AM and, if he’s not working in the morning, won’t wake up until about 12 PM.

Norman on the other hand, has the sleep schedule of a goddamn military soldier. This man is always asleep by 9:30 PM and never wakes up past 6AM. (That’s on a bad day, he’s usually awake by 5:30 AM). Otto can expect a daily lecture about getting enough sleep and how unhealthy his sleep schedule is, but Otto can’t help it. He can’t remember the last time he fell asleep before midnight, that’s just how his body works🤷‍♂️.

Norman refuses to let Otto kiss him on the mouth in the morning. He doesn’t want Otto kissing him before he’s brushed his teeth, it grosses him out. Mornings for these two have become a daily battle of Otto (jokingly) trying to sneak a kiss on the lips before Norman can swiftly turn his head away.

Norman absolutely loves Frank Sinatra (duh) but Otto cannot STAND Frank Sinatra. Otto doesn’t really have a genuine reason as to why he doesn’t like Sinatra, he just.. hates him.

Norman figured out his husband hated Frank Sinatra during a car ride home from a dinner date. Norman started playing “The Nearness of You” when Otto turned the volume down and half-jokingly asked if Norman could play some “real music”.

Skip to 25 minutes later, Norman and Otto are at home and Norman has been going on a constant rant about how Frank Sinatra is the “definition of real music!” and Otto is absolutely baffled that someone could rant about something so minuscule for so long.

Staying on the topic of music, Otto collects vinyls like you would not believe. Norman collects them too, but not nearly as much as Otto.

Otto has multiple boxes full of vinyl records that he’s been keeping since he was around 13. Some of them are first editions that he’s held on to over the years.

Ottos favorite vinyls are:

1- Brahms: Cello Sonatas Nos 1 & 2 / Bruch. This man is a sucker for classical music. He especially loves it when he and Norman are alone together in their living room, intimately slow dancing to the sounds of violins and cellos and the like. He just finds it so beautiful.

2- Verities and Balderdash. Norman introduced Otto to Harry Chapin back in the early 70s when Chapin was alive and still making music. Otto very quickly fell in love with this album specifically, loving the numerous emotions it delivered, the use of orchestras in some of the songs, and mostly Chapin’s unique yet beautiful voice. Otto and Norman actually got to see Chapin in concert in 1974, and it was one of the best concerts Ottos ever seen.

3- Desire. Otto adores Bob Dylan’s writing, but he only listens to certain albums. He likes bits and pieces of Blood On The Tracks, or even Street-Legal, but he’s not too keen on the sound of Dylan’s other work. This album though, Otto adores. Once again, Otto was instantly drawn to the dramatics and overall feeling of this album. His favorite song on Desire is One More Cup of Coffee, mainly because of the violins and melancholic feeling of the song.

#octogoblin #norman osborn #otto octavius #i am soooo normal about them #I would’ve mentioned Norman’s favorite vinyls but that would’ve been a year long rant

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literally-online · 1 year

Text

Hello! Today marks the release of a new musical project I've been working on for the past month or so: Sleep Buddy! Ambient music to help you focus or just get some sleep.

Available now on Spotify and Apple Music!

You can read more about where the project came from below:

After dropping out of college, joining a band, moving in with the band, watching the band fall apart, and then subsequently finding myself with an increasing amount of pent-up musically creative energy, I decided I wanted to make something of my own.

I was also about five years deep into a stint of severe insomnia — from my first year of high school onward I generally only slept about an hour or two each night. After my friends would fall asleep and there was nobody left awake to play games with or text or talk to on the phone, I'd spend the quietest hours of my evenings teaching myself how to produce music.

The blend of these two issues manifested itself into a love of producing and listening to ambient music, and I set out with the goal of creating an album that would help me fall asleep each night. It was freeing to break away from the verse-chorus song structure I'd become so acclimated to, allowing myself to let long droning synths reverberate for hours into the night or searching for field recordings of windy plains or rainy farmhouses to see how I could incorporate the sounds of nature into my compositions. I'd write a song, load it onto my iPod, hop into my car, and cruise around empty New Jersey streets to hear how it worked as a soundtrack for the drive. In the span of about three weeks, I'd finished and released my first solo album under the artist name Boqeh: Halcyon.

Halcyon saw the beginning of a new habit: Almost every single day I'd open up my laptop and throw some nice sounding synths and chords together and let them loop endlessly while I worked on other tasks. Usually these project files would get deleted at the end of the day, but every once in a while they'd be saved and fleshed out into a full track for a hypothetical future album release. My next few ambient albums as Boqeh all followed that same songwriting process, but I eventually got more into the habit of deleting files than saving them. Slowly but surely, I stopped releasing music altogether as my career and other creative endeavors took center stage in my life.

Although I grew into the habit of deleting my daily project files, I never kicked the habit of starting a new one almost every morning. In 2018 while discussing the rise of ten-hour relaxation YouTube videos and 24/7 lofi hip-hop beats streams with a friend, I wondered aloud why I wasn't using the huge volume of music I was creating and disposing of daily to do something similar.

It's taken ten years since the release of Halcyon for me to feel confident enough to make it happen, but I'm finally done erasing the work I create.

Enter Sleep Buddy.

youtube

Sleep Buddy is both a new project and revitalization of the intention behind Halcyon — albums of carefully crafted and original ambient music with the goal of helping listeners fall asleep or relax while working on other tasks. Today marks the release of the first album: Intro.

Intro is a thesis statement. Available as a ten hour YouTube video (of course), on Bandcamp, or through your favorite streaming service like Apple Music or Spotify, it contains just under two hours of original ambient music covering a wide variety of ideas I plan on drilling further into for future releases. Almost the entirety of the album was written and produced over three weeks in January of this year, and in the time it has taken to distribute Intro to music platforms, I have already finished a followup for release sometime next month. If all goes well, expect a new Sleep Buddy release monthly in 2023.

In the meantime I hope you'll give this first album a listen, and if you do I hope it helps you relax.

You deserve it.

Head to sleepbuddy.online for more. <3

#ambient music #music production #ambiance #ambient #sleep #sleep music #relaxing music #calming music #Bandcamp #Youtube

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spotsupstuff · 9 months

Note

I figured I'd let you know I've been listening to your rain world playlists on repeat for the past few weeks

it went something like this

"oh spotsupstuff has rain world playlists? that's neat, I'll check it out I guess" scrolling through em "mm yeah this are some pretty good songs ooh yeah I like that one wow they've got pretty good taste in music--" *notices favorite song about halfway through the playlist*

"...now I obviously have to listen to this playlist just so I can hear *redacted so people don't laugh at my music taste* in the context of all of these other songs"

well. um.

But seriously, your playlists are SO GOOD?? With practically every song on there I can be like "mhmm, yup, that's a Moon song right there" or "wow this song fits with general rain world vibes really well" or "damn that one's a little on the nose haha" or even "this song would work really really well as a rw animation. someone needs to turn this song into an animation... aw screw it I'll do it"

anyway that fulfills my daily allotment of "ranting in a cool person's inbox" hope you enjoyed g'bye

side note: you've turned me into a fish in a birdcage fan. I will never forgive you for this /j

kglsdmklg thank you!!! i Am quite proud of my music taste- fuckin listenin to songs basically 24/7 every damn day, i Better have a good sense of tunes at this point JGSKLJKCD

stars, i could yap about the songs i put into the main RW playlist so much- and then the Eo playlist, while still a wip especially later on, i try to organize according to the characters And the timeline n about That i could talk so so much toooo, the main RW one doesn't have that </3

like!!!

these three are supposed to describe the whole story at large, with The Nights being there cuz i'm plagued by the vision of Euros' last call to the group before he goes dark, along to a specific tiktok choir chain version of the song

intro songs for all of the characters that either namedrop them or describe them in a way. it's mainly the namedrops, but the first two belong to Zephyr because they are an inspiration for her character. Ptáčata (translating to young bird/fledgling) is for Sparrows, not only because of the very close namedrop, but also because the song describes her as a character very well n i REALLY wanna do a lil vid for her with that song

this song is specifically for Euros and Boreas

the first song here describes Fish's attitude and the second one belongs to his colony

this is AAAAAAAAAALL Notos songs

Euros theme song, The Song that Sparrows sings to Zephyr that makes her work on her perception of the Ancients (though the finished version is wonderful, the specific version that i've thought of being in that scene is this one), Rockabye is SUCH a Sparrows' mom song it makes me feral and Beer Fear is quite really connected to Sparrows' time in school just like Want to Feel Something, with that one being mainly sung by Euros with Sparrows sometimes chiming in

and This one is specifically for Boreas and Zephyr reuniting in the void, though the specific version i think of is This one

WITH THE MAIN RW PLAYLIST i'm mostly proud of: this one

Aggressively Gourmand song

this one as Saint-time theme song/progression of the story over all

THIS IS A VERY PEBBLES SONG and nobody can convince me otherwise.

Yes, he would drink coffee. Yes, i think he'd think it tastes like shit

and then absolutely like.. all the songs I have yeeted there because of my take on Suns

(this ☝ is their theme song to me, basically. thank u shkiki)

it's all Suns, baybeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!

#Spot says stuff #rw #and GOOD. fish in a birdcage deserves the recognition. angel tango is one of my favorite ones. also sand #oh i could talk about this stuff for forever.......

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nena-96 · 9 months

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The Story Of Us

Hello, this has been a very exciting and also challenging time to have participated in this fest. Not just because of the songs but also time management, haha I hope you all check out the wonderful stories for this years @cruelsummer-ficfest because they are amazing! ( I hope I can submit two more fics before tonight)

Pairing: Romione

Era 5 : Microfic Mayhem With Us,

Song: The Story Of Us

Here is the link for A03 ---->The Story Of US an AU of sixth year

or feel free to read below

Making her way through the library doors, Hermione tries to stifle a yawn, she hasn’t had much sleep these past few days. She’d like to tell herself that her lack of sleep has nothing to do with the fact that she can’t stop thinking of what she saw at the party.

Walking past the rows of books, as she heads to her favorite spot near a window that gives a beautiful view of the trees down below. Clutching her books closer to her, Hermione turns a corner that leads her to her destination. Before she can take another step forward, a familiar voice causes her to quickly duck behind a shelf of books. Leaning against the shelves, Hermione tries to ignore the way the spines of the books are digging into her back, closing her eyes and wishing she would’ve stayed in her dorm.

“Oh, we already studied enough, can’t we have a little break?” Lavender says and gently takes the quill from Ron.

Risking a peek from her hiding place, if you can even call it that Hermione wonders how she can make a quick escape without having to walk back in the direction she came from. Honestly, out of all the places in the entire castle, where she tries to avoid him. Well not that she is avoiding him per say, it's just that Hermione doesn’t want to witness seeing her former boyfriend kiss another girl. Wasn’t it enough- don’t they know that public displays of affection go against the code of conduct of Hogwarts.

Maybe she should make her way towards them and assert her position as a prefect, maybe even take away points even if it meant losing house points. Oh well, it’s not like she can’t gain back points during class.

How did things even end up this way? Hermione thinks to herself before she makes herself known to the pair sitting with their books open and notes taking up space on the small study table. It used to be them, her spot was always next to him even when they would eat breakfast at the Great Hall. No matter if she was running a bit late, Ron would always save her a seat beside him, with the latest edition of the Daily Prophet and a nice glass of pumpkin juice and fresh toast.

If she’s being honest Hermione liked it more when Ron was by her side. Given she would nag him to stay focused on his studies and he’d try and persuade her to go for a walk and they would end up staying past curfew because they decided to sneak into the kitchen, or sometimes even to the Astronomy Tower. Regardless of where they went together, they’d always have an amazing time, even if it meant staying up past curfew for a bit of snogging. Except he’s not her boyfriend anymore, but he was at the time she saw Lavender kiss him during a Masquerade party that the Gryiffindors held a week before the Gryffindor game.

“Lavender, I have to finish,” Ron said a bit annoyed as he tried to get his quill back from Lavender. Tossing the quill back, “fine, but I don’t know why you have to finish an essay that’s not due until next week. Your going to wear yourself out, I know that you're stressed because of Hermione not wanting to talk, but you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

Oh like I don’t have a very good reason as to why I don’t want to speak with him, Hermione clenches her tiny fists by her sides. As she continues to listen on to the conversation, it's ridiculous that they think I want to speak to either of them.

“Look, why don’t you tell her the truth?” Lavender says in exasperation. “I can’t Lavender, she doesn’t even want to be in the same bloody room as me.”

“You think I don’t know that, trying being in the same dorm with her, she doesn’t want to even acknowledge me.”

“Well What do you want me to say Lav? That I’m losing my mind when I see her? Or maybe I should say, "Hermione, guess what, Lavender thought that I was Maxwell, who happens to be another bloke with red hair, coincidentally we wore the same costume and masks to the party and that's the reason why she kissed me in front of everyone at the party. Oh and by the way thanks for sending a bloody flock of canaries-”

“What?’ Hermione mutters, before realizing that she said it outloud. Pushing the books back in place, except it’s too late, she caught the way he whipped his head around at the sound of her voice. His blue eyes were looking straight through the gaps from the books and straight into her deep chocolate brown eyes. The way his eyes never left hers even when he got up from where he was seated, and walked towards her leaving Lavender to collect her bags and give a nod of encouragement to them. It was time, time to let go of her pride and listen to what Ron was trying to explain to her after all those weeks ago.

“Hermione”, Ron whispers the moment he reaches her.

#romione #ron x hermione #ron weasley #hermione granger #lavender brown #hp cruel summer fic fest 2023 #Taylor Swift inspired #HP fanfic

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apersonwholikeslotus · 1 year

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'Just Shoes'

Pairing: A side of AusHun (not the main focus though)

Warning: Alcohol mention.

Notes: okay so, I was having feelings about baby Liechtenstein and her stuffy Austrian dad, and then I was listening to My Fair Lady, and then I'm also writing stuff for my friends as a Christmas present. And this happened, first thing I've been able to finish in a week. Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Erzsébet walked through the house wiping her hands on her apron while looking to make sure she didn't miss anything. She liked to tease Roderick far too often that being his lover should come with 'not being the maid anymore' privileges, but she also knew she would be bored without the daily chores. Speaking of though, she couldn't seem to find Roderick or Liesl anywhere. Usually Roderick would come around by this point insisting she had done enough for the day; or Liesl would show up wanting to help. Something Erzí never let her do. She didn't mind it anymore, but she was also insistent Liesl wouldn't end up working for someone else. Her excuse for the six year old was always something along the lines of 'What if your prince shows up? Will you want to be covered in dust to see him?' it always worked.

Her wandering took her to the side of the house with the ballroom. The large room wasn't used often... but Roderick was one for parties so whenever he decided to have one on a whim she preferred to not have to clean it when there were other things to do. She hated the parties, having to dress up and be overly nice to people she hated. Roderick and Liesl both adored them though, well, Liesl adored watching people show up for them. The girl had to go to bed before it even officially started, she had been excited about her 'debut to society' for years already. She asked every year without fail when she could go to her first one; and Roderick told her every year without fail as soon as she was sixteen.

"No, no, no, your timing is off!" Erzsébet stopped at the closed door, listening, Roderick's voice was easy to identify inside. She assumed it was Adéla he was scolding, he always claimed she embarrassed him at balls.

"But papa! You're doing the counting!" Instead of hearing the Bohemian woman she heard her daughter, giggling as she argued with her father.

There was a loud huff, "You can't blame your partner for your own shortcomings,"

Erzsébet heard the counting resume, along with footsteps far too heavy to be her lovers. She listened as the counting died out replaced with humming; Liesl started singing mimicking the sounds the song would make on a piano.

"See" The footsteps stopped with Rodericks voice, "That's where you lose your stride, when you start singing"

"I can't stay quiet, you hum, and mama sings when you two dance"

"Your mother and I can keep our step," she listened as the steps continued this time with Liesl counting out loud, Erzí opened the door just a crack looking in. She tried not to laugh as she saw Liesl standing on Roderick's feet; stepping in unison with him. They went through the motions a few times, she recognized quite quickly they were doing the waltz.

"Finally!" Roderick exclaimed, "I've never seen so much potential, just a little more practice and you'll be a dancing protégé"

"Really?"

"Absolutely. Don't you think so, liebling?" Roderick looked towards the door making it known that he had seen her. Erzí opened the door the rest of the way, coming into the room as Roderick picked up Liesl.

"Of course, we should just go ahead and send you to France to learn ballet," Erzsébet teased lightly, watching as Liesl held onto her father tighter.

"Please don't" both her parents quickly assured her she wasn't going anywhere, not as long as they could help it, calming Liesl down quite fast.

"What were you two doing in here exactly?" Erzsébet asked, trying to play it off as if she hadn't been watching them for the past ten minutes.

"Obviously I was teaching her how to dance, our princess needs to be well versed in many things" Roderick almost rehearsed the line, it was heard at least once a day in their household both them, and the other people living with them stating it. Liesl was Roderick and Erzsébet's daughter but by now she was being raised by everyone in the house. The theory that everyone would stop cooing over her after they got used to her presence, turned out to be completely incorrect. Even with Adéla who claimed to hate both the girl's parents with every ounce of her being.

Erzsébet knew her partner though, and knew dancing and now holding Liesl however small she may be was tiring him out quickly. "Edesem, why don't you go find Emma and see if she has anything for you to do?"

At the mention of the Flemish woman, Liesl half wiggled out of her fathers arms running for the hall with both her parents yelling after her to not run in the house.

As soon as Roderick was sure his daughter was gone, he simply sat down on the floor, immediately eliciting a laugh from Erzsébet.

"That tired are we?" she asked him, sitting down next to him.

He nodded, "She has endless amounts of energy, I swear it comes from your side"

"Oh I don't think so," she countered him, "Maybe she got it from your brother"

Roderick groaned, "Don't ever make me think about Liesl inheriting anything from any of my siblings ever again"

She rolled her eyes at him a little, thinking him being overdramatic. "She has endless energy because she's six Kedvesem"

"I am aware..." he trailed off for a moment, "You're sure you want another one?"

"I want three more" Erzsébet quickly countered,

"Three!" Roderick laid down completely putting his hand to his forehead, "I think I need a beer to even deal with the thought"

She laughed at him again, "That's what you said when we found out we were expecting Liesl"

"No, then I needed a beer and a chair," He jokingly patted the ground, "Now I'm already sitting so I just need the beer"

"You love her" she smiled at him.

"I never said I don't" Roderick countered, sitting back up.

"Let me finish, I know you love her because you danced with her, letting her scuff your favorite pair of shoes"

"They're just shoes,"

Erzsébet hummed, "They're never 'just shoes' with you."

#tw: alchohol mention #cw: alcohol mention #hetalia #aph austria #hws austria #aph hungary #hws hungary #aph liechtenstein #hws liechtenstein #aushun #ig #hetalia fic

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judgementdaysunshine · 2 years

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Hello!

Could you do bruce banner x gn reader, friends to lovers, the reader is also smart ( scientist ) & joined the Avengers recently their personality is similar to bruce ( introvert,not a people person, nice & kind, a little bit shy , understanding, soft spoken, workaholic, a nerd ) so they clicked! ( the reader wear 90's and dark academia style )

With mutual pining ( the whole team see it)..

A fic or headcanons ( as you like)

i hope this "specific" Request is okay !

Have a good day:) 💓💓💓

Absolutely

Pairing:Bruce banner x GN reader

Description:You and your longtime friend bruce slowly realize that your feelings for each other aren't one sided

Your future together

You and bruce have always been the other's safe place,meeting through tony after the two were looking for extra help you and bruce were reaunited after not seeing each other since you were 16 and him 17. You and him had never had an argument or disagreement due to not only your similar personalities and interests with science but also you kind,patient,and quiet demeanor which really attracted you to him plus the fact he is always a gentleman and a gentle soul to everyone he met and cared about,you couldn't help but fall in love every time you saw him even with how you dressed on a daily basis.You were currently listening to music while laying on the floor looking out the window in an extra room similar to an attic that is above your room looking out the window at the rain enjoying the melody of the song you were listening to,even though everyone else had been very kind and friendly to you within the past few weeks of you joining the team as bruce's helping hand you felt abit out of place among the group even though they knew you were a close and dear friend to bruce.You were zoned out watching the rain and listening to music you didn't realize that bruce was in the room until you felt a gentle brush on your arm looking over seeing him sitting beside you,showing his sweet smile as you paused your music looking at him "What are you doing by yourself up here?" He asks watching the rain as you look between him and the rain "Just thinking" you say staring at the rain as he hums quietly "I have too" he says as you look at him realizing how close the two of you were "About what?" "You" he says looking at how you hug your legs up to you in your black sweater and grey leggings your black combat boots across the room despite your clothing style you were such a caring kind person,"Me?" You say surprised at him wondering if he was saying what you think he is saying "Yea have been for awhile and I wanted to tell you something" "What is it?" You stay quiet as he smiles at you slowly leaning in as you look at him "I've been in love with you since we met" he says kissing you before you can say I love you back,Later on you notice the team smiling and chuckling at the two of you walking into the room together later on the two of you find out that they were helping and pushing the two of you to each other,you smile fondly thinking about the past 2 years together looking at the ring on your on finger out of the corner of your eye as bruce wraps his arms around you from behind both of you smiling at what your future together will bring.

#the avengers #bruce banner #bruce banner x reader #avengers x reader

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dorakonia · 1 year

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GET TO KNOW THE MUN!

What's your phone's wallpaper: A fanart piece of Pantalone from Genshin Impact skdjfhsdf it's been there for the past half a year, and it's funny because I used to change my background fairly often before but nowadays I'm just too lazy to change it. So I guess he'll be there until I find something new that I really really like.

Last song you listened to: Idk man, I'm listening to music daily so songs come and go every 4-5 minute skdjhfsf But I guess I could put down the song I'm listening to right now while typing this - "You Are My Sunshine" by Johnny Cash.

Currently reading: Kuroshitsuji. I'm really bad at sitting down and reading books so I usually listen to audio books instead but I love collecting books for some reason skdjfhsdf, but keeping up with the Kuroshitsuji manga is easy since one chapter is released every month, and ngl, I would do the same to other on-going manga series but that would require me to... y'know, sit down and read a lot just to catch up skdjfhsd but I do have Vanitas no Carte in the backburner that I'll eventually get to reading in full. Same goes for the Sailor Moon manga, which I actually own the entire collection of, and I have read at least 3 volumes of it + the volumes with the bonus stories. But in general the collection is just... sitting on my bookshelf collecting dust 😭

Last movie: Uhhhh.... I used to watch movies so much but nowadays I'm too addicted to youtube content to really sit down and watch movies, because it's always such a hassle because every time a movie is over I'm sitting there like 'ok now what to watch' and then I get stuck in limbo of what I feel like watching skdjfhsd And youtube is endless. But I think that the last movie I watched was "Pokémon: Mewtwo Strikes Back - Evolution" with @jinanreona :3

Last show: ... Same thing here, I don't watch a lot of shows either. And if I do, I usually rewatch shows I'm already familiar with ksdjhfsdf I think the last show I watched in whole was The Walking Dead back in February. And a couple of weeks ago I watched a few Kuroshitsuji episodes with @dokitm! But I think that's about it skjdfhsdf

What are you wearing right now?: .... That is kind of a personal question, isn't it😏

Piercings/tattoos?: No tattoos, but I'd like to have one one day when I'm financially stable to get one skdjhfsd I've had plenty of piercings tho. I got my ears pierced when I was 7 and I still have those, and then when I was 15 I pierced them again so I had two beside each other on each ear. Then when I was 17 I got one for my nose but I let it grow away like 3 years later because I thought it always looked like I had a giant decorative zit on there skjfsd Then I got a navel one when I was 21, and I actually loved it a lot and had it for years. But then one day the jewelry came loose and I couldn't be bothered to get a new one and that one too eventually grew away. I've always wanted a tongue piercing, but it has just never really happened yet. Maybe some day~

Glasses? Contacts?: Reading glasses~

Last thing you ate: My lunch today - salmon in white sauce and boiled potatoes~

Favourite colour(s)?: For stand-alone colours my favorites are black and blue. For colour combos, my all-time favourite is black/white/red, and I also really like purple/pink/orange/yellow.

Current obsession: Uh... I'm very particular in the way I obsess about things skjdfhsdf I don't have a lot of things that I obsess over, but I have a couple that I keep switching between depending on what kind of content I'm exposed to and/or engage in at the moment. Like, for example, right now my current obsession is Breath of the Wild because I'm replaying it to get into the hype for Tears of the Kingdom that is coming out tomorrow (!!!!), and I've been obsessing about it for at least 2 months straight now just because of that. But like... even tho I've been playing a lot, I still don't play every day. And the days when I don't play, I'm obsessing over any of my other interests. And whenever I'm not obsessing over those, I'm obsessing over the one remainder thing. The other day I was obsessing over Warcraft lore because I was spending a whole day playing WoW, and before then I was obsessing over Genshin, and before then it was something else. I obsess over the same things but I do it in phases, and I rarely get new obsessions ksdjhfsdf And ofc, in-between all of these interests, I'm constantly (tho subconsciously) obsessing over Kuroshitsuji and Twisted Wonderland ( Sebastian and Malleus specifically ofc ) :'3 It's like when my mind isn't occupied with anything in particular, Sebastian and Malleus is always living rent free in my head, and I spend my time drawing fanart of them.~

Do you have a crush right now?: Nope. Thus is the life of a demi.~

Favourite fictional character: If I don't say Sebastian Michaelis here I cannot in good faith call myself the biggest Sebastian apologist to have walked this Earth.... but Malleus, Yuugi (ygo), Howl (howl's moving castle - mostly the book version because he's such a little shit there and i absolutely love it, but the movie version is what i was introduced to and it will forever hold a special place in my heart), Zhongli (genshin), Fiore (sailor moon), Mamoru (sailor moon - manga and smc have him much better fleshed out and i love it, but he 90s anime will obviously always have a special place in my heart because it is what i grew up watching ♥ ), Lady Mipha (loz: botw), and Harley Quinn (btas as well as the newer animated harley quinn series) are all ofc huge faves of mine as well ;w; There's absolutely more but.... we'd be here all day~

TAGGED BY: @gosutm , @jinanreona , @pomfiores (thank you guys!!) TAGGING: I think almost everyone has already done this one so I'm just gonna uhhhh tag some that I don't think have done it so uhhhh @casketdweller, @svmmoning, @niiveusx, @decayedhearts, @chxmpionofjustice, @universestreasures, && @ofcryptid!

#misc. / dashboard games #out. / mun related #long post.

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numetalpuppygirl · 11 months

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what i'm listening to 6/8/2023 (song notes under cut)

spot. link//yt link

Laura Les - Haunted: haunted. by laura les.

Death Grips - Hacker: nothing super unique to say about it other than that it's genuinely just one of the best songs. like probably ever. we know this

Limp Bizkit - Clunk: smiles. it's me. clunk is nowhere near my favorite song on three dollar bill y'all but it's like. the best of the bad songs. it never could have been a single bc it doesn't have the strength and the hook is wimpy as fuck but i have fun with it :) i like the part where fred says clunk a bunch of times and i like the breakdown :) come closer i am normal about this album

Ada Rook - TRU U (Live at ELECTROPUNKz 2023): ah, rook's performance at electropunkz. another thing that i am normal about. i believe i've professed my love for the album this song is from before, so i'll save that ramble, but i had a lot of fun with the live ep here. and tru u is such a fucking banger i love every second of it, from the silly anime sample at the beginning to the little pause in the last chorus where the word "death" intrudes. i've said before: ada rook makes the music that i wish i made. this remains true

Danny Burstein & Jessica Hecht - Do You Love Me?: i've had Theatre on the Brain for the past week or so, which led me to listen to the soundtrack to a show that my high school did (although i didn't work on that show myself, i knew people who did). fiddler on the roof is a good show imo, and while i don't really feel qualified to talk about some of the more complex subject matter of a lot of the play, this song is relatively accessible and also drives me a little crazy. i just can't get over the careful, straight-faced profession of love between two characters who never considered before that their marriage might be anything more than a practical and social necessity. it's a tribute to the fact that sometimes love is unglamorous, sometimes it's really as bland as spending all your time with someone just because they're there and while that might not be the fairy tale we all like to imagine, it doesn't make the love worthless. tevye and golde SAY that it doesn't change a thing, but i don't think we're meant to believe them. it doesn't change their often grim material lives and daily realities, true, but i like to think that knowing there's love between them will make the rest of their days just that tiny bit sweeter. i'm so normal about this

Nirvana - Pennyroyal Tea (Live on MTV Unplugged): links to this post. it's just so crazy to me. we had five or so years of kurt cobain screeching the most agonized poetry the music industry has ever seen, cutting through the bullshit of shiny happy pop music and voicing the blood and death and sickness of an entire generation, and now they're just remembered as that one old band who did the song you hear people playing at guitar center. i command of you. actually really listen to this band, take the time to go through some deep cuts, listen to the weird little eps and bonus tracks and shit. there's so much to uncover. this song came on shuffle at one point and i just was floored by it all once again, so it's here as representative of the sentiment

Cab Calloway - St. James' Infirmary: i've been obsessed with an old betty boop cartoon that features this song, which i put in the youtube playlist. you might have seen a clip from it making some rounds on tumblr, but the full thing is worth a watch. cab calloway was known for his flamboyant performances, but all that energy takes on kind of a dark, unsettling tone when placed in the context of the moderately-fucked-up cartoon. good stuff

Billy Joel - Movin' Out (Anthony's Song): i've never been much of a billy joel fan but i've felt the need to explore more of his stuff after getting into this one. it came on the radio in the car and i was on an easygoing road so i got the chance to really LISTEN to it, y'know. like i've probably heard it in passing a million times, and my dad and i would always make fun of the "heart atTACK ACK ACK ACK ACK" part, but when i really listened to it... it's a damn good song! got that earnest, heart-aching singer-songwriter realness. who knew!

Skee-Lo - I Wish: TWO new todd videos since the last WILT, so you know that shit is making an appearance. i genuinely really love this song, i think it's so fun and creative with an *amazing* sample, i kinda wish skee-lo had gotten a little better than he did. you should follow my nu metal tournament blog, because i'm gonna put a bunch of other non-nu metal polls up when the bracket's done, and skee-lo is gonna make an appearance. i need more skee-lo warriors, basically. that rabbit in a hat thing is bullshit though

Caravan - The Dog, The Dog, He's At It Again: this is a find from charlotte charlottan's "Intro to Prog" playlist that i immediately fell in love with. it's so floaty and lovely, while managing to both gesture towards a wide variety of themes AND be catchy as all hell. it's good song, basically. i know nothing about caravan so that's basically it, but it's even got dog in the title :V

Parkway Drive - Boneyards (Live): it doesn't technically count as a repeat bc this is the live version!!!! i just love this shit so much. relistening to horizons after having not heard it for so long was such a breath of fresh air (this was like 3 months ago and i'm still talking about it lmao). i love the big stupid breakdown so much, boneyards has nearly permanently entered my rotation of songs to imagine myself performing. i also just love to imagine like. picture going to some punk or metal festival around the time horizons came out, and parkway is there, and your buddy is like yooo come on we GOTTA see these guys they fuckin kill live. and you're maybe not really familiar with them but you figure it's worth checking out. and they play this song and you're like damn yeah this is pretty good. and then the fucking breakdown happens!!!!!! i feel like you'd just be standing there and realize wow. i'm going to die in this pit. and that's really the feeling i'm pining for

Scatman John - Scatman's World: now some of you in the crowd may be familiar with our friend the scatman.... i've personally had my eyes opened to a whole slew of scatman hits that i never even knew about thanks to the enthusiasm of local scatman expert violet gec (hi violet!!!!!) and although this particular track is one i already knew of, i expect a lot of you might not know it. go ahead and take a step into scatman's world, baby! it's a beautiful place! and also the song will get stuck in your head despite your inability to mimic the sounds he makes!

underscores - Count of three (You can eat $#@!): i'm a pretty casual underscores fan, i just know songs here and there, but i do really like what i hear. count of three is SUCH an earworm, and i love a good "fuck you" song when it's done correctly. i also just appreciate the quality of the censoring job in the title. it's not perfect but there's effort... a lot of people just pick four random characters but here, $ obviously looks like S, # is similar to H, and so on. these are the kinds of things i think about

Bring Me The Horizon - AmEN!: continuing to ask the question of "what the hell are these guys doing ever and why does it sound good." first of all, we have to address the lil uzi feature. that makes... two? i think it's just two fuckin international pop stars that bmth have collaborated with. i mean, i know uzi is a rapper but considering rap's dominance in the pop sphere and their sheer popularity, i think i'm justified in calling a pop rapper a pop star. it's been said to death, but it's just crazy that these guys have become one of the biggest rock acts around considering where they started. as for the song itself, it's not like... my favorite? but it's cool, it's catchy. i don't find their lyrics nearly as impactful now as i did when 1. i was younger and 2. they wrote about suicide and nihilism and shit all the time. i guess the themes are still dark but it all just kinda washes over me now. i'm just here for the heavy heavy and the big chorus, and that's what i got. so i'm happy :)

Everclear - I Will Buy You A New LIfe: as you may have seen, i had a big sappy emotional moment for a few days at the end of last month, and that had me returning to my roots. post-grunge. a genre with no shortage of lame pop rock relationship tunes, including this one. i even made a playlist of sappy songs, of which this was one. i just like the idea of pledging all these expensive things to someone you love, but doing it as kind of a joke. like the sentiment is real, but you both know that's never gonna happen, because all you really have to offer is yourself. and hopefully that's enough. it's like if two princes by the spin doctors was less fun. i fuck with it mildly

Third Eye Blind - Jumper: that's right folks. not one, but TWO mellow and corny 90s rock tunes. i have nothing to say about this song other than that it's pretty good and, more importantly, you should watch the most recent trainwreckords video (told you we'd get both todd videos in here). i've even conveniently included that very video in the youtube playlist :) DO IT

Kesha - Eat The Acid: i listened to and enjoyed the new kesha album, but this single was definitely the song that stuck in my mind above all the others. it just made such an impression. even in her current era, i don't think i or anyone else expecting... this. it's very psychedelic, and while it doesn't completely deviate from pop by any means, i think it's a pretty bold step for her and i hope it pays dividends. i would be 100% down for more strange experimental kesha, i wanna see where this goes

Tina Turner - What's Love Got to Do with It: tina turner is featured on two WILTS in a row... if only the circumstances weren't so unfortunate. as i'm sure i said last time, she was a fantastic vocalist, and her biggest hit here gave her the space to really holler. i thought it was fitting as well to put this song right next to eat the acid, as both are the returning singles of women finally casting themselves free (or at least attempting to) of the figures that tied them down and abused them in the music industry. What's Love might reek of the 80s, but it's the good 80s. and for the record, i went back and listened to the full album and found a lot to like about it. RIP to a legend, for real

Roxy Radclyffe - YOU'RE GOING TO LOVE ME: another song whose presence is moreso indicative of a broader listening trend. i've been really interested in this artist's work recently, although i haven't had the opportunity to really dive headfirst in yet. i discovered her through a rym/bandcamp rabbit hole and was fascinated by the quanitity of projects she has running. i would recommend checking out her neocities and poking around, i've found some interesting stuff so far. definitely the kind of thing i think my crowd of oddballs on tumblr dot com could enjoy

#damn this one's long #*char noises*#talking pop

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