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#if anyone wants to hop into my IM i can give u more details
mattmaesonnatural · 5 years
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I’m currently 64,445 words into my WIP about two hockey players who were friends and teammates first (2 years) then start randomly hooking up because they they travel a lot and are lonely and it’s just bros helping bros to which they start falling for each other.
which leads to them beginning to date. Then them breaking up at the end of the season for the struggle of their jobs (doing poorly during the season) and emotions on that neither of them are out to A) their families and B) the world so they go their separate ways
but only for them to see each other again at a world tournament a month later and slowly get back involved in each other’s life over a one month span which tells about Person A’s coming out went better than expected and person B’s went really really bad and they kind of get back together but they then after the tournament they go on vacation with each other for a month (they become exclusive during this trip) but they go with some friends (who are also teammates who slowly find out about them and one teammate who isn’t all that approving about their relationship but it all gets resolved in the end) and this is where I’m COMEPLTELY STUCK AT WHAT TO DO NEXT FOR THIS.
Is it a cop out if I have them outted on a public scale? (They are two men btw)
Is it the easy way out if I have them break up again for shock value? (Just to show them how much they really do need each other. I kind of already did this but I’m running out of ideas)
Or should I come up with something better?
My end goal is really them over coming obsectles to prove that they are better together and than apart and that they can handle things life throws at them well managing their jobs. I want them to be a team within a team.
This point in the story I’m at it is the end of June 2018 (this whole fic spans over 1 year in time starting at October 2017) so this is middle of the off season I want the story to continue till September 2018 for training camp and pre-season but I need something major to fill in that gap. And I’m strugglingggg. (I hope some of this made sense if not just ignore thank u)
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peachy-inserts · 2 years
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leon s. kennedy general hcs pt. 2
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✉︎request:  saw that your reqs are open so i came to ask for more leon general hcs 😭😭😭 hes just my baby and i miss him
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✎a/n: heyyy... just in a silly goofy mood and decided to do these after like. idek. almost a year? im so sorry 
✰warnings: none except i like,, mention decapitation and balls (?) not in detail
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Leon is incredibly thoughtful. Every move he makes is so well calculated, and it’s unfathomable to imagine how he manages to find every situation’s best possible outcome, even in the most undesirable of circumstances. Hell, even when he can’t find the solution he’s so good at manipulating his environment juuust right to get the results he wants anyways
It’s the same nonchalant attitude despite his many amazing feats that draws people into him. Leon isn’t as social or friendly as he used to be since Raccoon City, but it doesn’t dull his charm nonetheless. He’s scathed and battered, and it shows in his demeanor, yet there’s something about him that people tend to trust
Speaking of trust, he’s not exactly someone who gives his trust to anyone. To be trusted by Leon should amount to being granted immortality, because it basically means you’re entirely redeemable as a person to him. Given the circumstances, he’s built up a pretty thick exterior; being someone who he can rely on is something he holds very deeply. Surely, anyone with such a privilege will be held on a pedestal in his eyes
While he cares deeply, he doesn’t take the time to reach out very often to the people he loves. It’s not a lack of consideration, I mean hey: the guy’s pretty fucking busy. However, he will stand up for them in a heartbeat. Someone’s got something to say about his people? He’s hopping on a private jet and getting ready to shove his foot up their ass, ETA 30 seconds
His job may be cushy and pay well, but he doesn’t have expensive tastes. He never has, it’s not who he was; why would he be any different now? Just not his style. Most of Leon’s money gets stored away and forgotten about, and he continues using the same products he relied on as a reckless twenty something in the academy, penny pinching and experimenting to find the right balance between cheap but still bearable. So, don’t expect him to be spending his paychecks on luxury colognes and professional hair washes, he’s dousing himself in irish spring straight after a shower with plain bar soap
He’s really not a huge fan of working out. He does the bare minimum for work, since it pretty much depends on his physical wellbeing, but he’s never really understood when people talked about the endorphins after exercise. In the ‘off-seasons’, or any period longer than two weeks when he has a minute to breathe and relax, his body softens and he gets a little tummy
One of the things he values is taking good care of his nails. The sight of dirt under his or anyone else’s nails grosses him out more than watching lickers decapitate people… ew. He’ll keep a toothpick on him during missions to clean his nails out when he has a moment to spare, and he’s kind of persistent about it too. The feelings of something there bothers him too much
When it comes to love, Leon’s still just a rookie. He doesn’t have the time or the mental capacity to bother with a relationship, and although he’s definitely had his fair share of passionate or flirtatious encounters, he’s never indulged in something serious… something he can wake up to 
One thing is for sure, though: he’s certain of his feelings. Leon isn’t the kind of man to doubt himself or feign confusion to shield his own heart, he knows exactly what he’s feeling. He’s an adult after all, and a professional for God’s sake. Why inconvenience himself with emotional ping pong? 
He’s been forced into a position where he’s made to obey, jeopardizing more than just his career if he acts out or speaks up the way he believes he should. He almost feels as if he’s got the whole world in his hands. He admires someone who is unapologetically themselves, who isn’t afraid to use their voice even if they’re wrong, or even if it puts their life in danger. Leon will fall head over heels for someone who has the guts to tell him he’s stupid to his face and who won’t hesitate to throw in all the chips at the chance of justice. He’ll fall in love with someone, though, who fights for those who can’t. There’s nothing sexier than sharing his ideals, because after all, what’s kept him going this far was his desire to be a fucking hero. Not for the glory, wealth, or recognition, but because he really, truly does just want the world to be a better place
He’s not much of the romantic type. That’s not to say he doesn’t do nice things for his partner, because like I said, he’s very thoughtful! But he’s not the man to make dinner reservations at a romantic restaurant, get dressed up for a scenic walk, nothing out of any novel. In his eyes, you love him if you accept him all of the time, and he shouldn’t have to fabricate a setting for you to see his appeal. His idea of romance is being comfortable enough to live freely with him, and not feel controlled by the idea of being in a relationship. If you don’t get what I’m saying, there’s nothing he desires more than being in a relationship where you go unchanged; the label between you two shouldn’t have an effect on your personality
One of the dew things that Leon will indulge in is shoes. A perfectly good outfit can be ruined by a shitty shoe, and he’s got a reputation to uphold… people already talk enough about him. Why not make it out of jealousy with a perfectly polished shoe? 
I think he would shave his balls lol
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Argo ch. 2
Friday the 13th - Friendship/Romance - Jason Voorhees/OC M/M ship
2084 words, 3rd person POV
I love to hear feedback on my fics so please don't be shy! You can also tell me your thoughts on anon if you don't want your name on your comments!
Cross-posting on FFN under PyroTheWereCat
...
Meeting Lijah face to face threw off Jason's rhythm for the rest of the day, and for the entire day after. He had no idea what to do with himself. He could go home, but his mother would want progress by now and he did not want to try to explain how he let Lijah go when even he didn't know exactly why he did it. He could start planning the killings of the other counselors, but he couldn't focus long enough to think about that. His mind was stuck on Lijah, and he determined the only way to get unstuck was to see him again. He had to know why he wasn't afraid and treated him so kindly. There had to be some sort of motive.
Darkness fell over the camp that Friday night, and Jason patrolled the outskirts until every last fire went out and all noise had subsided. His blood was on fire, and he could not rest until his curiosity was sated. He quietly crept to the counselor cabins, searching for number five. Would Lijah be alone? Was this a good idea to come here at all? Jason berated himself internally for his interest in this person. This was stupid. Why was he here? He could easily just kill them all and return to his mother as usual. What was different this time?
There, a little distance from the other cabins, Jason saw a large number 5 painted on the side of the building. The lights were off, save for one room where the soft yellow glow spilled out into the woods where Jason stood. He steeled himself, prepared to fight if an ambush awaited him. Not quite ready, but ready enough, he approached the window and peered inside.
Lijah's bedroom was relatively tidy, minus the small heap of dirty clothes in one corner, and some posters with ragged edges and some tears that were taped to the walls. A dresser stood on the right side of the room next to the door, a small radio and some books resting atop it. Above the dresser hung a simple mirror, and it reflected Lijah's slim legs as he lay on the bed on the opposite end of the room. Jason turned his gaze to the left, seeing Lijah in a thin t-shirt and boxer briefs, reading a book on his bed. Was there ever a time he did not look so at peace?
Jason contemplated simply letting himself in, but he felt compelled to avoid scaring Lijah as long as he could. He sighed heavily and knocked on the window, hoping this wasn't the worst decision he could possibly make. Lijah gave a small start at the sound and turned to see who had made it. To Jason's surprise, Lijah's eyes lit up and he smiled as he set the book down and hopped off of the mattress. He lifted the window open and stepped aside for Jason to climb through.
"Hey!" Lijah greeted cheerfully, "I was hoping I'd get to see you again!"
Jason awkwardly clambered into the room, his size proving troublesome for the space provided by the window. He grunted as he heaved himself through, but he managed without Lijah's offered assistance. He closed the window behind him and turned back to Lijah, the closeness of the walls and ceiling emphasizing just how much of a height and width difference there was between them.
"Have a seat!" Lijah insisted, patting the bed, "Make yourself at home. I was just reading a few chapters to make myself tired enough to sleep, but I can stay up to hang out with you."
Jason sank into the mattress, watching Lijah the entire time. Was something wrong with him that he didn't perceive a threat from Jason? Or maybe he was just leading him on and tricking him into trusting him, and then he would turn against him later. Lijah stepped over to his dresser to retrieve one of the books. Jason saw that it was a spiral bound notebook with a pencil jammed in the binding. Lijah brought the notebook to the bed and climbed up to sit next to him, folding his legs underneath himself.
"I figured since you don't talk, this might help if you want to tell me something about yourself or ask me questions," Lijah explained, "Are you comfortable with writing?"
Jason shrugged. It had been a long time since he had written anything, not counting his own name in the dirt yesterday. He was able to read, but he wasn't confident in his spelling or handwriting. He accepted the notebook anyway, having some questions for Lijah that he could not express through body language.
"cant rite good. ELijah college?" he wrote, needing to spell the full name and crossing out the 'E' to get it right.
"Do I go to college?" Lijah checked, and upon Jason's nod, he elaborated, "Yup, I'm on break right now, but I'm going back in the fall for my senior year. I'm studying psychology and sociology. I'm hoping I can get into social work or therapy or something and help a lot of people."
Jason's frustration increased at this declaration. There was no way he was this good. There had to be some dark side to him somewhere.
"What about you?" Lijah asked, "Do you live around here? And, I don't mean to be rude, but how old are you?"
Jason nodded and returned to the notebook.
"live with Mother by camp. im 23."
"Oh, nice, you're only two years older than me!" Lijah commented, "Do you get along well with your mom?"
Jason nodded and pointed to Lijah as a means to ask him the same question.
"I don't live with my parents anymore," Lijah answered, his tone changing very slightly to hint at some discomfort, "They're good people, but I couldn't live in that environment anymore once I started college. I've pretty much been living either at school or at summer camps for the past few years, but I'm looking into apartments for myself so I can have a place to live after I graduate."
There was the lead. Something must have been wrong with Lijah's family life to force him out on his own, and the implication that he didn't have friends to stay with made the mystery all the more enticing. He remembered the female counselor from the day before who had asked to go with Lijah before he and Jason had met.
"frends?" Jason wrote, "girl frend?"
Lijah laughed, and Jason felt a shiver at the sound for some reason.
"I get along with everybody, but I don't really have any close friends," he said, "I haven't dated anyone for a while now either. I've been focusing on myself and getting through school, though also the people I tend to date are...not the best for me."
From what Jason had seen of Lijah from afar, he seemed like he had lots of friends and was close with many people, but now it seemed he was just as alone as Jason himself. He stared at Lijah for a moment, trying to figure him out. It was then that he noticed some tiny details about Lijah's face that he hadn't seen in the woods yesterday.
Lijah had freckles on his nose, and his eyelashes were long. His eyes were a greenish hazel, and crinkled at the corners when he smiled. His usually fluffy brown hair was somewhat damp looking, possibly from a recent shower. Jason couldn't explain it, but Lijah was rather pleasant to look at.
"So you don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but I'm a little curious," Lijah prompted, snapping Jason back to reality, "Why do you wear a hockey mask? Is it good for keeping bugs out of your face?"
Jason tensed. He didn't want Lijah to see his face under the mask. That would surely scare him and make him hate him like everyone else. Jason shook his head and tried to think of an excuse to write down, but all he could think of was,
"i like it."
Lijah nodded upon reading this.
"That's a good, solid reason for anything," he agreed, "I should start living by that a little more, honestly."
Jason relaxed at this, relieved that Lijah accepted that answer. He wasn't sure why, but he was beginning to want Lijah to like him. It was almost like when he was a child and wanted to be friends with the other kids at camp, but this felt different somehow. Lijah didn't have friends of his own either, so they would only have each other if this worked.
Jason did not even think about possibly killing Lijah at this point. He was far too invested in who he was as a person, as well as excited at the possibility of having a real friend, to remember what his mission was. Mother wasn't expecting him back until August. It should be fine.
"Alright, Jason, I'm gonna tell you something and I don't want you to get upset," Lijah began, scratching the back of his head, "But I figure if you wanted to, you could have easily killed me a few times by now, so I think I'm safe. I honestly thought you were gonna kill me yesterday in the woods - we've all heard the stories of the Killer of Crystal Lake or whatever; they warned me of the history of this place when I was hired - but I like to give everyone the benefit of the doubt and treat everyone the way I'd want to be treated. I figured if I died, I would die putting my best foot forward, and, wouldn't you know it, I did that literally."
Jason blinked. Was that really all he'd needed to not kill people? Someone being nice to him?
"For the record, and I'm sure you know this already, but I'm not scared of you now. People don't have to look a certain way to be good or bad. And, hey, if you helped me out and came to visit me like this, you can't be all bad, can you?"
Either Lijah was too naive for his own good or he was very good in the field he was studying. Perhaps both? Jason wasn't sure. He picked up the pencil again to write,
"can i see u more?"
Lijah read this and nodded.
"I'd love that!" he enthused, "Please, come see me this time of night any night you want. I've got lots of books to read, I've got food in the fridge, you can shower here if you want to...I'm the only one who uses this cabin, so really, I don't mind you being here and making yourself comfortable."
Jason wasn't an expert at body language or understanding people in general, but it was clear to him that Lijah desperately wanted a friend. He felt a twitch at the corners of his mouth, a small smile breaking through. Whatever this was between them, they both wanted it, needed it, and Jason looked forward to exploring an actual friendship with someone his own age. Maybe he could bring Lijah back to Mother and show her that there was someone special in the outside world, someone who cared about everyone.
It was a nice thought, but nice thoughts never lasted long.
-------------------------------------------------
Jason and Lijah spent several hours that night getting to know each other. Jason could not believe how easy it was to communicate with him and even more so how easy it was to let his guard down. He found himself having fun, something he couldn't remember the last time it happened. Lijah did grow quite tired after midnight, however, so Jason excused himself through the window to allow Lijah to sleep.
He returned to his temporary campsite in the woods to get some rest as well, wanting to have plenty of energy tomorrow to spend more time with Lijah. He wondered if he had tried to approach the counselors he'd killed differently, if he had a more approachable mask and cleaned up the rest of his appearance, would he have been able to befriend them too? He doubted that notion the instant it materialized in his mind; those counselors weren't like Lijah and would have been afraid of him either way. Lijah was special...Jason could feel it deep within him. Just a few hours with him made Jason reconsider killing anyone this summer.
He hoped Mother would approve.
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ve1vetyoongi · 4 years
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Mic Drop | myg
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pairing: yoongi x reader
genre: smut, angst, fluff
au: rapper!yoongi, photographer!oc
summary: when underground rapper min yoongi uncovers the dirty secret behind his biggest rival, your brother and hip hop champion kim namjoon’s success, he is determined to take home this year’s mic drop contest trophy no matter who he hurts along the way. you’re behind the camera, content with capturing namjoon’s picture perfect persona from the sidelines but when his hard-faced enemy Gloss, makes you realise you could be more than just the point and shoot, you start to feel your loyalties shifting.
warnings: multiple smut scenes, dirty talk, dry humping, penetrative sex, fingering, oral sex (both m and f receiving), lots of orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, cum play, cum eating, but also tender fucking lol, very brief mention of death.
word count: 29k (rip)
rating: definitely explicit
playlist: visit my playlist page and select “mic drop.” (all links to be added later)
a/n: ahhh you don’t understand how happy i am to finally put this out into the world!!! i started writing this fic back in july and after a few rewrites (more on this at the end of the post if anyone sticks around until then) she’s finally finished eee <3 also!!! this fic is brought to you courtesy of the love yourself collab! this project has been super fun to be a part of n i wanna say thank you to everyone involved who made it such a welcoming experience! you can check out the masterlist here (link will be added later f u tumblr) to read all the other amazing fics from the incredibly talented authors in this project (literally so talented??? it’s sickening???) (im so excited to finally read them all now im done w this monster lol). all the love as always <3
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Introducing Runch Randa!
The host is barely audible over the chants of your brother's name as the lights dim and the arena is sent into a haze of strobe lights.
The air is already heady with body heat and fragrant with sweat from the thousands of bodies smushed together in the pit and beyond that thousands more seated in the stands, phone lights twinkling in the darkened arena like stars. A girl in your peripheral clutches a sign with MARRY ME RUNCH RANDA scrawled in sharpie, torso clad in one of the cheap merch hoodies with your brother's face printed on the front, just like hundreds of others around her.
It's a full house. No one's surprised. The Mic Drop semi-final always creates a buzz of anticipation within the hip hop scene. But this year, with your brother Namjoon returning to compete for the trophy again, there isn't an empty seat in sight.
A buzz pulses through the crowd when the bass kicks in. It makes hearts beat faster, blood run hotter, a crescendo of screams crashing violently through room, the sheer volume enough to make the walls shake in time with the stamp of impatient feet.
It's infectious. Almost. If you hadn't been here a hundred times before, countless nights the same as this one that all started to blur into one somewhere along the line. Different crowds but the same energy, the same hum of anticipation that used to get your bones rattling, your skin hot with suspense. Now it's just routine. Now you feel nothing.
Besides, you're just here to do your job. The photographer. To take pictures, not to enjoy the show. Just like always.
Five seconds. You know Namjoon's set list like the back of your hand by now. Five seconds until he takes the stage and the crowd goes wild.
One, two, three, four...
Like clockwork, the stage lights up and there he is, face blown up in painful detail across every screen. Runch Randa. His stage name pulses through the room, a mantra, chanted until throats turn sore and mouths run dry.
Dark framed glasses cover his eyes but his stance is enough to tell you that he came here to win, his presence immediately filling the empty stage with an energy that makes it impossible to look anywhere else, even for a moment.
He is already damp with sweat, neck glistening beneath the white lights. Like routine you snap a few shots when he taunts the camera with a smirk, brushing a hand through his immaculately gelled hair teasingly, mouth turning up into a grin when the audience roars.
Runch Randa walks across the stage with the ease of someone who lives and breathes for moments like these. Grabs the microphone with two hands, shiny silver rings glinting on his fingers beneath the harsh strobe lights.
You can see his opponents in the front row, nothing but rookies, the intimidation etched into their features visible even from where you stand side stage as they swallow the bitter pill that they stand no chance against him.
Once upon a time you were the same as the wide eyed fans in the pit, filled with an admiration for your brother. He was everything you wanted to be; a whirlwind of fearless, brazen passion when he got up on stage. But things changed once Namjoon won Mic Drop, claiming the trophy at the tender age of seventeen. After that he started filling arenas. Then stadiums. And you were left behind in the ruins of his whirlwind, feeling the Namjoon you once knew slip further away as Runch Randa took center stage, viewing his perfect persona through the lens of your camera with the same sour resentment as the rookies.
Because when a familiar beat permeates the arena, you can't help but close your eyes and imagine the name the crowd screams is yours. That it's you out there instead of him. It's you pouring your heart into the lyrics that you find yourself whispering unconsciously in time with your brother.
Your lyrics.
The lyrics you wrote especially for this performance. The same lyrics that would be streamed by millions, top charts and win Namjoon another stupid trophy to add to his already elaborate collection.
The only reason Namjoon still kept you around was because he couldn't write them himself.
The track ends and the Mic Drop host crosses the stage with a grin. Namjoon's arm is thrust into the air triumphantly.
"And our first finalist is...Runch Randa!"
You snap a picture of your brother smiling victoriously.
"He's gonna win. I know it."
Namjoon's manager Jimin sidles up beside you, grin plastered to his face. It's nauseating.
"Does he ever lose?" You murmur
Runch Randa! Runch Randa! Runch Randa!
--
Mic Drop. The most highly anticipated event in the music industry for its ability to make hip hop artists stars; as well as its tendency to break them just as easily.
Fame. Money. Glory. Just a few of the reasons why rap rookies from across the globe are desperate to compete in the ruthless battle of blood, sweat and rap that is Mic Drop.
They all think they have what it takes. That they have that special something the judges are looking for. Unfortunately, most don't even make it past the auditions phase.
When your brother, Mic Drop legend Runch Randa, announced he would be ditching his celebrity status and stadium concerts to return to his underground roots and compete for the trophy again, it raised a series of questions
Why now? What did he have to prove?
Once the press got wind of the fact that your parent's, CEO'S of the most prestigious record label in the industry Big Hit Entertainment, had run into a spot of financial trouble, everyone assumed your brother's re-entry was a master plan to win the lavish cash prize afforded to competition winners. Sure, you couldn't deny that it was partly true --- Big Hit's stocks were plummeting and a lot was at stake.
Truthfully, though, you knew your brother well enough to see that Namjoon's motives were far more selfish; to put it simply, he was greedy. Fame was his drug. Once he got a taste he could never get enough.
Of course, a cheque signed and delivered by your father's hand shut any rumors down very quickly. Your parent's were good at silencing people if it meant protecting Namjoon's reputation.
Even you, their own daughter.
The name tag labelled OFFICIAL PHOTOGRAPHER was nothing but a cover up for the true reason you spent so much time at Big Hit -- writing each and every one of Namjoon's hit songs. A secret you were forced to keep as you watched your brother through a camera lens.
Which is how you find yourself as his strictly-invitation-only after party, an attempt at building momentum for the big final in just a few weeks time, with a camera in hand.
You're sat in the corner of the A-list club Jimin rented out for the event, swirling the deep red liquid in your glass with a bored disinterest as you watch your brother shake hands with company investors and big buck producers, most of which you'd never even heard of.
These things always seem to drag on, the clock ticking slower with each agonising second spent smiling courteously to uphold the supportive sister persona. Your feet are starting to hurt in your heels and all you want to do is hide away in the Big Hit studio and scribble down the lyrics floating aimlessly in your mind. That's the only good thing about these events -- they give you time to think, a rare relief in between your brother's busy schedules.
"Well, well. If it isn't my favorite lyricist."
A cheerful voice jolts you from your thoughts and when you blink up through the flashing lights you're met with a lazy grin belonging to Hoseok, one of the producers at Big Hit. He's an ex Mic Drop contestant himself, coming fourth and just missing out on the semi-finals three years ago. He never had the stomach for it anyway, he always says, but you never miss the rejection in his eyes.
Hoseok is also one of the only people who knows about your secret. He was hired to help you work on tracks for your brother once he made it big after all, and although he would never admit it you knew he probably had to sign a hefty NDA. Still, you were grateful to have him around — you couldn't deny you made something of a dream team together.
"Mind if I sit?" He gestures with his glass towards the empty space beside you, and you move your purse so he can squash in on the leather couch. "At least some of us are having fun, huh?" You follow his gaze to Namjoon on the dance floor, hands all over some vaguely recognizable celebrity's hips.
You grimace and swig back the remaining alcohol in your glass. "Too much fun, apparently."
Hoseok snorts, wringing his hands. "Y'know, we could get out of here if you're as bored as I am..." His words slur just slightly and you figure his confidence is a result of the amber liquor in his glass. The shy Hoseok  you know well returns quickly though as he averts his eyes when you raise a brow. "Not like that! I just thought maybe we could get a drink or something...if you want to?"
You shift awkwardly, having to shout over the booming club music for him to hear you. "I should really stay here. People might ask questions if the sister of the host just...disappears."
"Right!" Hoseok smiles sheepishly then slaps his own forehead. "Right. Forget I ever asked."
You shake your head fondly and turn back towards the dance floor just in time to see Namjoon whisper in the ear of the DJ, music cutting as he takes the mic and hops up onto the small stage to address the party.
Finally! A sign he was going to wrap up the evening for good!
He clears his throat and the huddle of mingling bodies below him fall into an expectant hush.
"Uh, so I'm not usually very good at these speech things --" He pauses and the crowd laughs. You tap your knee impatiently. "But I just wanted to say thank you. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for your support. So, the next round of drinks are on me! I haven't won — yet — but its never too early to start celebrating, right?"
Namjoon raises his flute of champagne and the party-goers cheer just as a flurry of confetti drops from the ceiling. The music starts again and you're too busy picking the brightly colored paper out of your hair disgruntledly to notice the way the room suddenly quietens and the guests part down the middle like prey from a predator.
"Y/N. Look." Hoseok elbows you sharply and flies forward in his seat, whisky sloshing over the edge of his glass. "Shit! Is that--"
Is that really him? What is he doing here? He's back!
You look up just in time to see the commotion as a figure in a black hoodie weaves effortlessly to the front of the room. You don't recognise him but something about his presence gives you chills.
Namjoon is too busy throwing back his drink to notice as the man climbs the stage, his skinny jeans and high tops sticking out like a sore thumb against the sea of dress shoes and cocktail dresses. He clearly wasn't invited.
By the time your brother senses the change in the air, it's too late.
You feel your face pale, choking when the figure finally turns and lets down his hood, revealing a head of blue hair and a venomous smirk.
"Gloss?"
Namjoon turns and his smile dissolves. He just stares stiffly at the person in front of him like he's seen a ghost. In a way you suppose he has -- the ghost of his past. After all, the last time anyone saw this face was five years ago at the Mic Drop final.
It is him! It's Gloss! Why is he back?
The night that changed all of your lives. When Namjoon claimed the Mic Drop trophy and Gloss, his opponent, lost everything.
It's been years since the last time you saw Gloss but you still recognize the distinctive confidence in his gait, the way his eyes flash with something dark as he looks your brother up and down with a breathy laugh.
Namjoon is frozen, breathing heavily.
Gloss' voice is husky when he finally speaks. It makes you shiver.
"Runch Randa. Long time no see, huh?"
A beat of unbearable silence.
"What are you doing here?"
Gloss's chuckle makes Namjoon snarl. You see the way his jaw tenses and his fists clench. He's too wound up; he'll snap if you don't do something and fast.
You get to your feet but Hoseok pulls you back down sternly by the elbow. "Don't." You protest but his grip is too tight so you just fidget helplessly instead.
Something settles in the atmosphere; a nervousness that makes you itch, makes your heart pump into overdrive as you watch them draw closer, eyes narrowed like boxers in a ring, waiting for the other to make a move. Hoseok covers his eyes.
"I wouldn't start celebrating just yet, Runch. The competition has only just begun."
The crowd gasps when your brother's clenched fist swings at his smug opponent. The rapper ducks but not quite in time and you can't remember which comes first — the crunch that crackles through the speakers when Namjoon's ring-clad knuckles collide with Gloss' face or the ear splitting thump of his mic dropping to the ground.
--
The party ends abruptly. Your head spins with confusion as you watch the guests leave in shock. Seeing Namjoon up on that stage opposite his biggest opponent again makes your stomach sick, like you were reliving the events of five years ago all over again.
Deep down you had always expected this moment to come. For Gloss to return looking for revenge or something. After all, Gloss didn't just loose Mic Drop to anyone -- he lost to Namjoon, his former best friend and music partner. Namjoon and Yoongi. They were supposed to win together. But for reasons still unknown, even to you, Yoongi was disqualified moments before the final commenced, plummeting your brother into the world of fame alone.
After that, Gloss all but disappeared, his pitiful downfall nothing but a hip hop legend to those who heard it. No record deals or sponsorships or stadium tours like your brother. A legend in his own right, but for all the wrong reasons. Mic Drop banned duos from competing thereafter.
Eventually you gather the courage to head into one of the back rooms where the rappers had been hauled by security guards in hi-vis jackets after their scuffle. You can hear Jimin babbling before you even reach the door.
"What were you thinking? Punching him? You better hope the press don't get ahold of this or else you're in big trouble—"
"Let me go!" Namjoon grunts to Jimin whose face is almost as red as his own. "I'm gonna end this once and for all."
"You'll do no such thing," Jimin tuts, pushing him firmly by the shoulder so he slumps into his seat with a roll of the eyes, other hand pressing his phone to his ear. "Do you even understand the amount of damage control I'm going to have to do to? — hold on, yes, this is Park Jimin speaking..."
The room smells of disinfectant and medical gauze and you spot Namjoon instantly, surrounded by an abundance of medics. His breathing is still ragged, the vein on his neck standing to prominence, knee bouncing as he impatiently waits for his ruby knuckles to be bandaged, too engaged to notice your arrival.
To your left you're surprised to find Yoongi. He's the epitome of composure despite the heavy tension in the air. He grabs a roll of bandage and begins to patch up his own fist, eyes lighting up with something you can't put your finger on when you slide into the room.
"Well, look who decided to turn up. If it isn't Namjoon's little sister. Long time no see, Y/N."
You freeze. It's been years since you heard him say your name. It makes you feel funny.
"Yoongi." You swallow. "What are you doing here?"
His shit eating grin makes your blood boil. "I take it you haven't heard yet, then."
You roll your eyes. You should be checking on Namjoon not humoring whatever stupid motives his opponent has. "Heard what, Yoongi?"
"I'm re-entering the competition, too."
You stagger backwards. Yoongi? Re-entering the competition? Mic Drop?
"But--you were disqualified--I don't understand?"
"I was disqualified. Disqualifications are only valid for five years, according to the rule book. Who knew?" He smirks when your eyes widen. "And I think you'll find that my sentence is up. I'm gonna win this time, once and for all."
"I don't think you know what you're doing, Yoongi—"
"There's more." He licks his lips. "I know your secret."
Your heart stops, mouth running dry. You throw a glance over your shoulder. Namjoon is still engaged, swatting away a medic's ice pack with a scowl, thankfully too busy to notice when you draw closer, voice a harsh whisper. "W-what secret?"
Yoongi lets out a dark chuckle, wincing just barely when he touches a damp cloth to the cut in his lip, a red splotch forming on the fabric. "You know exactly what secret I'm talking about, Y/N. Wouldn't it be ironic if someone slipped a tip off to the judges panel about Namjoon's ghost writer—"
"Shut the fuck up Min Yoongi or I'll break your nose for real this time!" Namjoon's voice bellows behind you, making you jolt. He charges at Yoongi, lip quivering like he might make his threat a reality. "Leave her out of this!"
Yoongi's nostrils flare. "Everyone knows she's a part of this, Namjoon, whether she likes it or not!"
All eyes look your way, as if expecting you to say something, but Yoongi's words fall cluelessly on you. You hadn't so much as thought about him in years. What did you have to do with this stupid ongoing feud with your brother that he refused to let go?
You glance between them, settling for sending a blank look at Yoongi and shuffling over to Namjoon instead. Your brother seems prideful at your show of allegiance. Yoongi scoffs.
"Namjoon?" Your mouth is dry with the shock of the situation and it comes out sounding funny, like you're wary of him. A gash above his eyebrow starts to dribble crimson. "Shit, you're hurt..."
"Get off me." Namjoon shakes his shoulder violently and you gingerly remove your hand, brows furrowed at his rejection. He directs his attention to Yoongi. "And you. You want a fight? It's on."
"Joon!—" He waves you off. It's pointless anyway. When he gets this rash there's no changing his mind.
"You want to end this thing once and for all? Then let's do this. You and me. At the final."
Yoongi raises a brow. "Deal. I'd shake your hand but you might try and knock me into next week again."
Namjoon doesn't laugh.
A hoard of security guards bust into the room and head straight for Yoongi. "Finally. What the fuck do I even pay these people for?"
"Get off me!"
You place a hand on Namjoon's shoulder and find that he's trembling. Rage? Nerves? Adrenaline? All three, probably, if the vacant blackness behind his eyes is anything to go by.
You're already trailing behind your brother when you hear Yoongi's voice carry down the hall. "I'll see you at the final! When I win. Secrets always find a way to come back and bite you in the ass, Runch. You should know that better than anyone!"
--
Namjoon begs you to come as his plus one to some scummy gig Gloss is rumored to be performing at tonight. To check out the competition, he says, but you recognise the way he nibbles his lip as he does.
Fear. He'll never admit it but Namjoon is scared he’s going to lose.
You agree to join him because you think it may put his mind at rest.
As Namjoon's manager, Jimin has all sorts of connections, mumbling thank you's into the head set sitting around his ears like a permanent accessory and scribbling down the address of some club down town.
The driver your parent's hired to escort Namjoon around as a paparazzi safety precaution drops the three of you a block away; the car's black tinted windows and shiny number plate would be out of place in such a scummy part of town. The plan would only work if you went unnoticed. Namjoon couldn't risk running into a Runch Randa fangirl tonight. It was technically against the Mic Drop rules to have any intel on your opponents, after all.
You don't like to tell Namjoon that his disguise won't do much for blending in. He dons a designer cap pulled down low over his face, long black coat drowning his figure and expensive leather boots crunching against broken glass and cigarette stumps as you near the club. It's too put together to seem natural, a dead give away that he doesn't belong here among the sea of ripped jeans and septum rings and tattoo sleeves around you. Even with a patterned bandana covering half of his face, the sculpted cheekbones and piercing eyes smudged effortlessly with black eyeliner poking over the top scream celebrity.
Luckily for you, the plain dress and knit cardigan hugging your body doesn't alert the suspicions of the bouncers cross armed at the entrance.
Namjoon wrinkles his nose and prods a half empty solo cup discarded outside with his toe, Jimin practically jittering with nerves and barely avoiding a stumbling drunk as you approach the men who stand at nearly double your size. Namjoon said it was best that you acted as spokesperson tonight — the only reason he even brought you along was because nobody would know your face and your position at Big Hit allowed you to pull some strings.
Your fingers shake as you produce a photography license from your bag, heart pounding as one of the menacing bouncers raises his eyebrow beneath the deep red hue emanating from a tacky neon sign posted above the door.
Luckily the breath you're holding is leaving you in a relieved thank you as he nods, moves to the side and gestures for your entourage to dip inside with the rest of the crowd. Namjoon charges ahead into the darkness and you follow him with an awkward smile to make up for his rude demeanour.
No turning back now...
Music hits like a deafening wave, blasting from the speakers at a volume that makes the walls shiver and your head throb. The club is alive with reckless anticipation, a sea of sweaty bodies gyrating on the dance floor in time with the pulsing beat. The energy swallows you whole, knuckles turning white as you cling to Jimin's sleeve, letting him elbow through the throng of indistinguishable faces that glitter beneath the tacky disco ball dangling haphazardly from the ceiling.
The crowd eventually spits you back out in a quieter corner of the club, Namjoon already making a beeline for the seedy bar. "There's a whiskey sour with my name on it and it's the only thing that'll get me through this shit." He murmurs as he crosses the room and occupies a bar stool beside a couple mid heavy make out session, pulling the hat closer around his face.
With a sigh, you turn back to Jimin who is eyeing up the strip pole and the exotic dancers nearby with wide eyes. "I still don't think this is a good idea."
The italian leather couch you slump into is suspiciously sticky beneath your bare thighs. "He needs to get the apprehension out of his system," you counter. "Once he sees that there's no competition he'll be able to take him down."
"I hope you're right." Jimin is wringing his hands, not knowing what to do with them now his headset is sat on the backseat of the car a block away. "I'd hate for this to knock his confidence."
"What?" You snort. "You think Gloss might actually beat him?"
Namjoon is the best rapper around, there's no debate. Nobody could beat him. Not even Gloss.
"No." His pursed lips say otherwise. You raise a brow. Jimin lowers his voice. "Maybe. Namjoon's rash. Gets ahead of himself. If he doesn't pull it together he'll play straight into Yoongi's hands..."
"Shows starting." Your open mouth snaps shut when the cushions dip beside you and Namjoon throws his arms over the back of the couch, swirling his half empty glass with an overconfident smirk.
Jimin averts his gaze. He knows he probably said too much. Sure, you're technically his colleague but you're also Namjoon's sister, the daughter of his boss. If Namjoon had overheard his position at Big Hit could have been called into question.
You would have to grill him more about Yoongi's motives later. Namjoon was right; the show really was starting.
Lights send the club into a dizzying purple haze, a new beat rumbling through the club that makes your skin prickle. It's almost drowned out by the electricity in the air, the frantic stamping of feet, the brazen chants of a single name over and over that fills you with a funny tingly feeling.
Gloss! Gloss! Gloss!
Something about it feels dirty.
The crowd is packed tightly together in the pit now. Even from where you sit, avoiding club goers eyes on the opposite side of the room, you find your attention glued to the stage. The set up is nothing like the one your brother occupies every night; just a wooden structure, painted black at one point but scuffed and scratched by the soles of shoes that boast the history of the place. The speakers are propped on broken crates, no big LED screens or back up dancers like your parents hire out for Namjoon.
Though none of that seems to matter when your gaze falls on the sole microphone stand placed centre stage beneath a blinding spotlight. It's the only familiar parallel between the two performers. It's a symbol of an artist, of the passion that comes with being up on that stage — any stage. It belongs to a performer.
You have to peer through a sea of frantic waving hands on your tiptoes to catch a glimpse of the combat boots taking the stage in time with the music rushing in your ears, mouth dry at the silver rings glinting under the harsh lights as fingers curl around the microphone.
"Yoongi." Namjoon grunts beside you, back stick straight and alert now. The traces of his previous smirk have been erased, a line appearing at the bridge of his nose. "There he is."
Yoongi throws his head back, breathes in the stuffy air that carries the shouts and whistles of the crowd like it's the sweetest oxygen money can buy.
The stench of beer burns your eyes but you're scared you'll miss a glimpse of his messy blue hair, or the eyes drunk on the fierce energy pulsing through the club to stop watching even if you tried.
When his voice permeates the room it's husky, burning through you like a shot of dry whisky. Namjoon stiffens, loosens the bandana around his face so he can see better.
Is that Runch Randa?
"Namjoon..." You hiss. "People are looking."
"Shut up." He grits, jaw tightening as Yoongi's lyrics cut through the tension like a serrated knife.
The way he moves across the stage like he owns it is exhilarating, makes the blood in your veins pump hot, limbs turning to lead as the crowd hangs off his every word.
He's good. Great, even. His lyrics give you goosebumps and you realise you haven't felt like this about a performance in a long time. Passionate. Yoongi is exhilarating to watch and it shakes you to the core.
It's then that it dawns on you. The reason Namjoon feels threatened is because there is a real chance that he might loose everything.
Gloss might take the trophy once and for all.
You only rip your eyes away from the stage when you feel Namjoon stand up beside you, his body disappearing into the crowd.
You get up too. "Leave him." You watch Jimin mouth. "He's just angry, he'll calm down—"
You don't care about Namjoon, not when the air is suddenly too thick, too heavy to breathe. Not when your hands sweat and you heave with a desire to run from reality and the suffocating smell of stale cigarette smoke that made your throat burn, like you can't get your body to breathe.
"Y/N? Where are you going?"
You swear you're floating, feet never seeming to quite touch the ground as you battle against the hazy dizziness that makes the room spin, ignoring Jimin's exasperated shouts of your name as you push through the gaps between bodies and pray your sense of direction is still intact enough to pull your outstretched arms towards the exit.
--
It's dark outside when you spill out of the exit, spluttering and heaving for air.
The brick is cool against your back when you slide down a nearby wall, hugging your knees.
A deep breath. In then out. Your chest loosens, lungs begin to feel full enough again.
Until a gravelly voice rings out into the night, clearer than the thump of unintelligible music from inside the club that makes your head pound.
"So it was you I saw back there. Good to know I'm not seeing things."
Even before you lift your face from between your knees you know who it belongs to. The single person you want to see least in the world at this very moment.
"Go away." You grumble but all that follows is a low chuckle as Yoongi slumps down next to you, ensuring to leave a safe distance between your crouched bodies.
It's funny. You had been preparing yourself to see him all night but now he's actually here in front of you, your mouth is dry.
He looks the same as he always did; dark eyes that burn hot as they scan your face, cocky smirk turning up the corners of his mouth. His brow looks wearier than you remember though, too weary for a man of twenty three. The only indication that time has passed since him and your brother were best friends.
"I assume Namjoon sent you here, then?"
The mention of your brother's name offers you the courage you need to look at him directly. His forehead still gleams with sweat in the dim moonlight, hair slicked back with a red bandana. There's a ring around his eye now, black and bruised. He must have taken off the black hoodie he donned on stage, left now in only a white vest which exposes his arms and to your dismay makes your blood run a little hotter.
"He's inside. I just came along because I had to." You mumble. "I'm not his spy, you know."
"Sure as shit seems like it." Yoongi spits with an amused chuckle, head lolling on his shoulders to face you. "He worried I might tell everyone about his little secret? Or was he trying to find his own leverage?"
A hot anger boils beneath your skin, rising all the way to your cheeks. Namjoon wouldn't do that would he? He didn't play that way. He didn't need to get an upper hand on Yoongi. He just wanted to see what he was up against.
"What's your problem, Yoongi?" The smirk on his mouth never falters, something glinting behind his eyes that tells you he wants to get a rise out of you. Even so, you can't help the way your voice raises, staggering to your feet. He chuckles darkly in response. "You get off on being an asshole or something?"
"You're too naive. What's so bad about telling the truth?" He closed the space between you until he's hovering above you, breath warm against your cheek. Your heart starts to race."What's so bad about taking back what is mine?"
Your breath hitches when his hand presses into the wall beside your head, effectively cornering you beneath his chest. "You could ruin his career."
Yoongi snorts. "What? Like he ruined mine?"
A few beats of silence. His eyes scan your face and it makes your stomach feel funny. You push at his chest, sucking in a shaky breath when he backs off a little and you realise part of you is weirdly disappointed that he did.
"Yoongi I don't know what happened between you and Namjoon—"
"No. You wouldn't know." He scorns, slinging his hands in his pockets, face darker now at the mention of his feud with your brother. "Because Namjoon loves secrets right? Namjoon likes to use people, Y/N. Just like he's using you now, to get to the top. And then he'll throw you away just like he did with me, sweetheart."
"Namjoon wouldn't do that." You bite your lip, the words leaving your tongue sounding a little less sure than you intend.
"Why? What makes you think you're any different?"
"He's my brother."
"I was his brother once too, remember?" He swallows, shaking his head in disbelief at your denial. "The only blood that matters to Namjoon is the blood shed to get him to the top."
You wrap your arms around your torso instinctively. Yoongi's words cut too deep. Maybe something inside of you thought Yoongi was right?
No. You came here to protect Namjoon yet here you were allowing his enemy to get inside your head.
"Fuck you, Min Yoongi." You spit, enjoying the way his eyes widen at the venom lacing your tone. "I made a mistake coming here."
Before you could brush past him and escape the heat  running through your blood stream which feels fuzzier than hatred should, a hand curls around your wrist.
"Shit. Looks like someone's on your trail."
A quick glance over your shoulder reveals none other than Jimin, face hidden by the visor of his black cap but recognisable none the less. He speaks a few words to the bouncer, probably asking if they saw you come out.
"Oh no."
The bouncer gestures in your direction. Jimin's eyes pause for a second as they skim across your form stood rigid with shock and your heart falls out of your ass when he starts in the direction of where you stand way too close to Yoongi unable to move a single muscle as you brace for discovery. To pay for your betrayal of your brother.
"You coming or what?" Yoongi snaps you back to reality with a tug on your arm, feet stumbling over each other as he drags you behind him further down the alley and around a nearly pitch black corner, too far away from the street lights to be basked in their orange glow.
"What the fuck, Yoongi?" You try to shrug out of his grasp, heart beating faster when you see the flat look on his face. "Let go of me!"
Yoongi comes to an abrupt halt. "Listen, I'm trying to save your ass here. You want to get caught? Go on then! Not my problem."
You nibble your lip, glancing one way at the dark alley and the other at Jimin pacing up and down the street with furrowed brows.
"Just trust me, Y/N."
Jimin's footsteps get closer and closer. It's now or never.
Tightening your jaw, you turn back to Yoongi and nod. The words feel foreign as they pass your lips. "I...trust you."
With that, Yoongi grabs your hand and breaks into a sprint
Turning the corner, the alley meets a dead end. The back of the club is just as run down as the front, littered with cracked beer bottles and cigarette stumps. The sign above the door labelled NO ENTRY doesn't offer any light and apparently Yoongi doesn't listen to directions because he fishes in his back pocket for a key, sliding the bolt and pushing on the bar to hold the door open with a small nod for you to go inside first.
With a deep breath, you do.
The door closes behind you with a jingle of chains, cutting off the slither of moonlight it provided and sending you into complete darkness. You hear Yoongi slide the bolt back across and then he fumbles for you in the darkness, your body pulled down next to his with a yelp so that you're out of direct view of the window which looks inside the room.
"I think they followed us." His voice is silk but there's an underlying insinuation. Be quiet.
Yoongi's eye level now, knees squeezed up against yours in the cramped space beneath the window ledge. Your eyes slowly adjust to the darkness, able to see the way he scans your face when he thinks you aren't looking. The way he grumbles and looks away when you catch him.
There's not time to dwell as you hear footsteps turn the corner, tracking all the way to the door where the bolt rattles, a sleeve wiping the window and pressing a cupped face to the glass.
"She's not here, man. You must have seen someone else."
It was Hoseok. You'd recognise his voice anywhere. Countless all nighters in the studio together does that to a person. Had Jimin called him all the way down here to look for you?
Jimin chimes in quickly. "I could have sworn it was her..."
The voices trail off as they retreat back down the alley, around to the front of the club.
A sigh escapes you, head falling against the wall in relief. When you open your eyes Yoongi is looking at you again. There's something pained in his expression, unspoken words visible in the way he bites his cheek to stop them from spilling out into the darkness.
His fingers are still wrapped around your arm, an electricity buzzing through your veins when you feel him lean in closer, pulling you towards him just barely.
His lips. Chapped and so close to yours. God. You think you want to kiss them. Just to know how it feels. You've never seen them up this close before. Not close enough to feel his hot breaths puffing against your forehead. Not close enough that if you just lifted your chin a little bit...
Yoongi lets out an embarrassed cough, jolting you out of your thoughts. "That was a close one, huh?" The spot where his hand resided feels cold when he rips it away.
Yoongi's face is wiped of any emotion again. He's not completely slick though as when he finally speaks again he sounds husky, the betrayal in his voice surprising even him.
"Are you okay?"
What were you supposed to say to that? I almost got caught with my brother's enemy and then thought about kissing said enemy. No, I don't think I am okay.
"Fine. Thanks."
Yoongi offers you a hand, getting to his feet and pulling you up after him before he leans across your body to flick on the lights.
The yellowish stream burns your eyes but allows you to take in the room around you. There's a keyboard in the corner, piles of sheet music strewn across the wooden desk beside it. A pair of speakers hooked up to a worn looking sound machine. A mic and a pair of headphones slung over the back of the mismatch wheely chair tucked beneath a desk.
A studio.
He must notice the way you look around with wide eyes, redness creeping up his neck as he busies himself by kicking some of the clutter on the floor behind the desk. "Wasn't expecting guests."
It definitely wasn't the high tech producing set up you were provided with back at Big Hit, no hifi system or fancy computer programmes. The furniture was mismatch, like someone had collected a bunch of spare puzzle pieces and shook them up in the box until they made a picture.
Somehow of the pieces still manage to seem somehow inherently Yoongi; the basketball tee with GLOSS on the back draped over his chair, even the empty water bottles overflowing in the trash can. The tiny framed picture of a younger looking Yoongi next to a woman you think you recognise but can't quite put your finger on.
"Genius lab?" You snort, nodding towards the sign hanging haphazardly above the monitor.
Yoongi shrugs. "What can I say? It's true."
"Confident." You muse.
You share a smile. It's strange. Familiar. The way his eyes crinkle and even the husk of the chuckle that follows reminding you of when things were good, back when you considered Yoongi to be a sort of friend. Before things got fucked up.
"You'll take it back when I win."
Old habits might not die hard but the rational part of your brain registers the implication of his words, even beneath his playful facade. The studio suddenly feels cold. Nostalgia dissipates. You remember why you're here.
"Why didn't you just let them find me?"
"You know as well as I do that Namjoon risks getting disqualified if Jimin causes a scene and gets himself caught snooping around here."
You huff an exasperated breath. For all Yoongi's talk of  having the upper hand he sure did seem reluctant to use it. "Isn't that what you want? What's stopping you? Want to drag it out or something?"
Yoongi lets out a breathy laugh, crossing the room and ducking into a drawer in the far corner. He returns with two glasses and a murky bottle of something strong, already a quarter empty as he pours some out. He offers the second glass towards you but you wave it away.
"Suit yourself." He takes a swig of the dark liquid, squeezes his eyes shut. "Because I want to win fair and square."
You shake your head. "All of this. Just for a stupid trophy?"
He eyes you over the rim of his glass, swirling the liquid with an overconfidence that makes you grit your teeth in annoyance. "So Namjoon knows how it feels to lose something he loves." He looks you up and down then, coughing and turning his head when you notice it. "Yeah. I guess it's for the trophy."
Yoongi is despicable, you think. Is he really so fame hungry that he will destroy anyone standing in his way to get it? Even Namjoon? Sure, your brother has his faults but if there is one thing you know it's that he loves being on that stage. What happened between them that makes Yoongi think he deserves it more?
"So its a revenge thing, then. And what if you lose, huh?" The way your voice raises makes you wince. Yoongi slams his glass down and flashes you an are you serious face.
"Y/N don't you see? I have nothing to lose. Namjoon already took everything. My life, my family, my fame. Everything. You know how it feels to have it all dangled in front of your face? And then get it ripped away like it was never yours to begin with?"
Yes. You'd never tell him that, of course. But you did know. You had to watch Namjoon perform your songs every night through a camera lens. Snapping shots of him in his element and wishing those picture perfect moments were yours. What did Yoongi know?
"I see him on the big screen, on stages I dreamed of. Crowds screaming his name. It was supposed to be me, Y/N. Meanwhile I'm sat here," Yoongi gestures to the shabby studio you find yourself in, liquid sloshing over the edge of his glass. "In clothes I printed myself, making music in a shitty club for free because nobody will even listen to my shit."
He's panting by the end of his spiel, knuckles pressed to his eyes as he tries to regain his composure before he lets too many of his weaknesses show. Something resonates inside you, softening the anger towards him with what you recognize as sympathy.
"Then why do you still do it? Make music?"
"Because it's the only thing that never left me alone."
You sigh. While you're collecting your thoughts something catches your eye — a Polaroid picture, tacked onto the plasterboard behind his computer. It's of a smiling Yoongi and much to your surprise, a smiling Namjoon, arms wrapped around each other like nothing could ever break them apart. You briefly wonder why he kept it, if he hated Namjoon so much.
You turn to him again.
"Don't make me regret saying this but you're good, Yoongi. Like really good. Your performance earlier it was...amazing. I mean that."
Yoongi's stern eyes soften with surprise. He almost seems pained, like the simple compliment means more to him than you expected.
"So, you don't have to do this. Big Hit has connections, I could get in touch with a couple record labels--"
He stiffens again. "What? Are you my manager now? As if any record label would take a chance on the biggest Mic Drop loser in history, Y/N, don't talk shit."
You trail off. It's true and you know it.
He swallows hard. "You know what I think? I think you're here because you know that I might actually win this thing. As much as Namjoon knows how to play dirty he doesn't have the talent. He never did! That's why he's using you to write his material." His laugh makes you shiver. "How can he even call himself an artist? It's pathetic."
That's all it takes for your patience to snap. Is the way your blood boils with a sudden and insatiable rage because of the way he bad mouthed your brother? Surely you didn't actually believe him? No, everything he said was a lie -- it had to be.
Your hand curls into a fist, anger spilling over as you charge at him full force. Yoongi barley flinches, his fingers deftly curling around your wrist before it can meet his jaw and pulling you into him at the waist so he can slot his bottom lip between yours.
"Fuck yo— hmf?"
Your eyes widen as you register his slightly chapped lips moving against your own, remnants of the amber liquid he poured down his throat earlier sour on your tongue, a surprised gasp leaving you when Yoongi flips your bodies and slams your back roughly against the wall, settling himself between your legs.
"Gonna finish what Namjoon started, sweetheart?" When he pulls back you're panting, eyes trained to his parted lips with wonder.
He kissed you. Yoongi kissed you. For real.
His warm breath still mingles with yours as you try to choke a response, anything. Yoongi's eyes have a dark glint to them and god you should hate him for winding you up like this but being this close to him just feels too good.
Then, before you can think better of it, you grab his collar with your free hand and smash your lips together in a tangle of teeth and tongue that makes your entire body burn with relief.
The groan he lets out against your mouth tells you he wants this too. "Fuck, couldn't help myself." He pants. "You're driving me crazy."
You feel a dampness throb between your legs when his hands tangle in your hair, lips never leaving yours as he pulls you across the room and drops into his chair.
A whimper is pulled from your lips when his palms cup the flesh of your ass beneath your dress, though it's not in protest, dizzy with desire when he pulls you into his lap and bucks his hips so that his half hard cock brushes against your clothed heat.
"See what you do to me?" He pulls back to smirk at your swollen lips, a much needed breath entering your lungs, filling you with another bout of restless desire as Yoongi's eyes scan your face hungrily. It feels too good even though it should be so wrong.
"W-we shouldn't." Your mouth is dry, words coming out a little unsure which gives away just how much you want to keep going. "What if--"
A particularly harsh thrust of his hips makes you moan softly, head falling into the crook of Yoongi's neck. He growls when he catches sight of the growing wet patch on the front of his jeans, testament of his effect on you as much as you hated to admit it.
"What if Namjoon finds out?" His hand shoots between your legs, pads of his fingers tracing your clothed core, the coarse lace of your panties adding a delicious layer of friction against your folds. The delicate touch sets your body alight, skin burning to let go and submit to the feeling despite the voice in the back of your mind screaming no!
"What if Namjoon finds out that I make you this wet?" Your panties are sticking to your heat by now so it would have been futile to deny it. He smiles smugly when your legs shake and you throw an arm around his neck to keep your balance.
"S-shut up." It's meek and it only makes him laugh darkly, the husky sound sending shivers down your spine as he leans in closer to nibble on the lobe of your ear.
If you didn't know any better you would think he was unaffected by this. Your chest heaves with desire and your hands itch with a yearning to touch him but Yoongi appears the epitome of composure, maintaining sinful eye contact as he pulls your panties to the side. The only give away is the way his cock twitches against your leg with each jerk of his hips, a funny sense of pride erupting in your chest knowing that he wants you too.
Open mouthed kisses drag down your jaw, lingering at your neck. His teeth nibble at the sensitive skin, tongue laving out to soothe the sting and it feels too good to worry about the bruises his sinful lips leave behind as a reminder of your weakness Namjoon could never know of.
"Look so pretty marked up, sweetheart." The pet name makes your clit throb, head throwing back as his mouth attacks the sensitive spot on your neck like he knew it was there all along. It's almost concerning how quickly he has you falling apart in his lap. How easily he turned you into a shuddering mess, barely able to form coherent sentences in between breathy gasps at the sensation of him making you his for all to see. "Show everyone that you're mine, hm?"
When Yoongi removes his hand from your core you slap a hand over your mouth to stop a whine of protest from escaping. Yoongi's eyes narrow, palming his bulge through his trousers as he watches you writhe in his lap with amusement, every twist of your hips falling short and providing no relief for your pulsing clit, already missing the feeling of his hand cupping your mound and considering how it would feel skin on skin—
Oh god. What am I doing?
You let out a groan, but not the good kind.
"What?" Yoongi seems to read your mind, snapping you back to reality when he pulls your panties to the side. He circles your entrance teasingly and you can't help the way you whimper. "Don't act like you don't want to sink down on my cock, Y/N. You could ride me right here and nobody would ever know."
"H-how can I trust you?" It would ruin Namjoon if he found out. He was already stressed, already growing distant from you. This had to stop before it went too far. Before there was no going back.
"Because I can make you feel like this." A lithe finger slides into your heat, easy because of how you drip over his hand. "Think about how much better my cock would stretch you out, hm?"
Each drag of his finger against your velvety walls has you squeezing your eyes shut. The sensation is overwhelming, and when he adds a second digit  you feel your repose crumble. Lust seems to crash over you like a wave, clouding your thought with a hazy desire to just give in and let Yoongi take you, uncaring about the repercussions now as you push down to meet his thrusts so he hits deeper than before.
"Fine." Your words are slurred, too busy chasing the feeling between your legs to see the way it makes Yoongi's eyes light up. "J-just hurry up and fuck me Yoongi."
"Well well," Yoongi settles back against the wall, looking between your bodies to watch the way his fingers disappear into your soaking cunt with an expression almost primal, his own breathing ragged now as he tries to resist turning you over and fucking you into tomorrow then and there. "Never thought I'd actually get to hear my name on your lips like this. Say it again."
A sharp flick of his wrist has you falling against his chest, pulsing around him. "Yoongi!"
"That's right," He licks his lips, free hand unzipping his jeans to relieve the pressure on his length. "Me. Yoongi." The way he mimicks your breathless tone makes a hot blush rise in your cheeks, aware of just how fucked out you must seem right now but too horny to care. "Been waiting for this. Ah shit!"
You take it upon yourself to hurry along the process by reaching into the waistband of his boxers to wrap a hand around the shaft of his cock. It pulses at your touch, the pace of Yoongi's fingers in your cunt stuttering as he flies forward, knuckles on the hand gripping your thigh turning white as he tries to regain some control while you stroke him firmly.
"Fuck your hands. Sinful. Knew they would be. God you're going to kill me if you keep this up, I swear." The worlds tumble from his mouth in one heaving breath as you twist your palm around his sticky head, enjoying the way his thighs twitch with a want to buck into your fist and his nose flares with the effort it takes to resist.
His cock feels girthy in your palm, hot and heavy as you help him shimmy his jeans around his thighs. When his cock slaps back against his stomach, impossibly hard and leaking with anticipation you feel your mouth water.
"Like what you see?" He almost taunts.
You bite your lip. "I don't think you're gonna fit."
It must have brushed his ego because the tip seemed to flush an even deeper shade of red. "Wanna sit on it and find out?"
A nod is all it takes for Yoongi to slide your panties to the side, slapping your hands away to grip the base of his cock and line it up with your entrance.
You both groan in unison when he pushes into your heat, the stretch burning with every inch, fingers clutching the fabric of his tank top at the sensation of finally being full.
"Fuuuck." You see his tongue snake out to wet his bottom lip when his hips finally join flush to yours, hair sticking to his already damp forehead as he allowed you to adjust. "So fucking tight for me, princess."
His cock throbs impossibly deep inside you when you unconsciously clench around it, feeling your face flush as you whimper for him to get on with it and fuck you already.
"Shh, patience." His thumb pulls at your bottom lip, setting it free with a pop. "Move."
At his command you do, bracing yourself on his shoulders. You raise up, feeling every ridge of his length until just the tip remains inside your heat. Then you are slamming back down and flushing at the groan which tumbles from his chest.
"Such a slut, taking my cock so well." His palms feel hot on your hips, dragging you up and down through the motion that has you panting.
Yoongi looks utterly amazed at the visual of you sinking down onto his length, unable to stop the satisfied grin settling into his features when you cry out after a particularly deep thrust. "Imagine if Namjoon could see you now. Falling apart on my cock?"
"Can we — hnng — not talk about my brother when you're in my fucking guts?"
"Why?" A whine leaves you when he slips out of your cunt, grabs you by the ass, and hoists you to your feet, roughly bending you over the desk until your cheek presses against the cold surface. Yoongi tugs your hands behind your back, cock already sinking back into your heat before you can protest at the emptiness. "Worried he'll think you're a slut for taking my cock when I'm the one whose going to fucking end him?"
"Yes!" You cry, unable to hold back now as you feel his cock hit deeper than before with every ram inside you that fills the room with the slapping sound of his pistoning hips, brushing your sweet spot each time and making the coil in your stomach tighten.
God, this is so wrong and you know it. You know it shouldn't feel so good when Yoongi's hands tangle in your hair, pulling you so that your back arches flush against his sweaty chest. Know how many people would be hurt if they knew how much you love it, how you push back into his thrusts, eager for more.
"Shit, you're squeezing so tight." His voice sounds strained now, thrusts turning sloppy as you feel him shudder. "Close, shit. Where can I—"
"Inside me. Want you to f-fill me."
"Holy sh— always wanted to hear you say that. Okay, fuck."
A few more pumps of his cock and he's spilling inside you, the feeling of his release coating your walls enough to have you falling over the edge unexpectedly too, vision turning black as you cum with a cry.
The only sound that fills the silence is your heavy breaths mingling with his as your arms give out. You're silently grateful, as much as you hated to admit it, for the strong arm around your torso that holds you to him when your legs turn to jelly.
Yoongi slips out of you, admiring the way his cum leaks down your trembling thighs. The emptiness makes you keen, clenching around nothing.
"Made such a mess of you, kitten."
The sound of his zipper makes your heart sink, stiffening as he tucks his spent cock back into his pants. For a second you think he's going to leave you like this, shame caressing your cheeks as you envision how fucked out you must look.
But then, Yoongi's palms are back on your thighs as he kicks the chair from under his desk and pushes you roughly onto the cushion. "Think you can go again for me, princess?"
"Wha--?" His swollen lips make you loose your words, the way his tongue tantalizingly caresses your bottom lip drawing a choked whine from your throat instead.
"Fuck, always thought you'd make such pretty noises." It's mumbled gruffly under his breath, like he's confirming it with himself rather than addressing you. He pulls back to stare at you spread out for him, lidded eyes widening at the visual of your skirt pooled around your waist, legs kept open by the rough grip around your thigh that exposes your swollen slit. The way your arousal drips down your inner thighs along with his own release has him swallowing thickly. "Like being filled with my cum, huh? Such a slut."
Yoongi traces his fingers up your inner thighs, thumb applying a gentle pressure to your clit, legs struggling to fall shut around his hand to escape the over stimulation. "P-please Yoongi, I can't."
"You will." It's growled against your neck, hot breath making you shudder. "I know you can take it."
A knee slips between your thighs, holding them open so his fingers can deftly continue their brutal attack on your sensitive folds. Each drag of his knuckle up your slit makes you whimper, the way the pads of his fingers rub firm circles into your clit making it pulse. The feeling is more intense than before, borderline agonizing as a warmth builds in the pit of your stomach again.
Eventually the pain starts to dissipate, turns into something closer to pleasure when you feel a single digit slip into your heat, the slide made easy by the fact that his cock had already stretched you out and his release lubed you up nicely. Each pump makes a lewd squelching noise that has you biting your lip to stop from groaning unabashedly, Yoongi's gaze fixed to the sight of his knuckles disappearing inside you.
When you buck up into his touch again, desperately circling your hips to try and grind your clit against the heel of his hand, Yoongi lets out a dark chuckle. The muscles in your cunt tighten, skin damp with sweat as you fuck yourself on his hand in search of a second high that burns ever closer.
"Look at you, all needy again from just one finger. All fucked out again even after I stretched you out."
With that Yoongi removes his hand from your heat all together, leaving you gasping and clenching around nothing as your release falls farther away, unable to resist the groan of frustration that passes your lips.
"Don't stop!" Your head lolls back against the chair, thighs trembling with desperation to feel his touch again. "I was so close--"
"Suck." Yoongi raises his fingers to your lips. You notice the way they gleam, sticky and white in the studio lighting. The pads of his fingers smear the wetness across your swollen lips as he pushes for entry which you gave to him eagerly, humming around the digits. "Be a good girl, hm?"
He all but groans when your eyes flutter open and lock with his, tongue swirling around his fingers teasingly, enjoying the taste of your own arousal mixed with the saltiness of his cum, almost in sensory overload at the thought of how much better his cock would feel in your throat.
"That's it." A knuckle drags down your cheek possessively, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "Good girl."
A sticky trail of spit follows Yoongi's fingers when they leave your mouth with a lewd pop, your breaths coming out shaky and desperate as you watch his eyes zone in on your aching core.
The sight of him dropping to his knees is enough to have you squeezing your eyes shut in anticipation, whimpering when his hot breath grazes over your throbbing clit. "Wanna taste you for myself."
And with that his tongue runs a rough stripe up your slit, eyes falling shut as he hums against your folds contentedly.
"Fuck Yoongi!" Your eyes roll back as he laps a few teasing licks across your bud, body turning to putty when his hands roughly pull you down the chair so that he can attach his mouth to your mound fully.
A guttural moan rises from his chest when you grind your core against his face, knuckles turning white as you clutch he chair like it's the only thing keeping you grounded, stopping you from floating away and losing yourself to the feeling of Yoongi's tongue teasing your already wrecked hole. An impatience rises in your stomach every time his nose grazes your clit, pushing your hips more forcefully to chase the relief it brings.
"So eager." You knew he'd have a smirk on his face if his lips weren't already occupied, wrapping around your clit and sucking with just the right amount of pressure to have your fingers tangling in the blue locks that spill loose from his bandanna now, holding him to your core so that you can rock against his tongue easier.
"Close sweetheart?" The way your chest heaves and little gasps spill past your lips as you chase your high must give away the effect he is having on you. You nod breathlessly and to your surprise Yoongi places a chaste kiss to your folds before pulling back all together, leaving you writhing and desperate for him to make cum for the second time. "Did I give you permission?"
Your heart beats furiously as your release slips away once again. Yoongi only stares at you intently. His lips glisten with a mixture of both of your releases and the thought alone makes your core ache. A loose shake of your head makes his eyes darken, licking some of the dampness from around his lips. "Gotta use your words, baby. Did I say you could cum?"
Dizzy with arousal, your words sound slurred and alien to your own ears. "N-no."
"Good. Now ask nicely."
"Please." It comes out whinier than you anticipate but Yoongi's hands twitch against the flesh of your thighs, giving away the fact that he likes it despite the way his mouth presses into a tight and unforgiving line. "Can I cum? Please?"
A deep laugh leaves his bitten lips. "I don't think you deserve it." His head dips back down between your legs, sloppy kisses pressed to each of your thighs as he edges ever closer to your dripping core. "I want you to count, okay?"
"O-oh, okay." He attacks your clit again, tongue swirling where his teeth graze across the pulsing bud. You're so sensitive that you're sure just the light brushes of his lips will send you over the edge if he keeps going.
"G-gonna cum if you--"
"Don't." The authority in his voice makes you gasp. "Didn't I say to count? One."
"Fuck!" Hot tears streak your cheeks when he pulls back so just his hot breath ghosts across your glistening folds. "I..I was so close!"
"Hey, hey." His hand reaches up to stroke your cheek, a strangely gentle action in comparison to the bruising grip on your thigh. "You're doing so good. Trust me, okay? Wanna make you feel good."
For the second time that night you nod, putting all your trust into him for reasons you are too fucked out to dwell on there and then.
When his tongue snakes out to tease your clenching hole again it draws an agonizing cry from you, the coil already tightening in your belly. You shut your eyes.
"Don't" The hand on your chin tightens, forces you to look down at where his face is buried between your legs, authority lacing his words again. "Keep your eyes on me."
As soon as you lock eyes he gets to work again, humming out a "good girl" before you're losing yourself again to his tongue and he has to plant your feet down roughly to stop your hips from bucking too much.
Before you know it your clit's throbbing again and you're about to fall over the edge but before you can even let Yoongi know he's pulling back with a pant, practically gasping for air but still flashing you a shit eating grin. "Didn't think I was going to let you, did you sweetheart?"
"Two." You manage to breathe. "Two!"
By now you're sick of the teasing, a hand coming between your own legs to finish yourself off, ready to come undone whether Yoongi likes it or not. Before you can get your way, Yoongi's swatting your hand away. "Desperate slut. Wanna cum that bad huh?"
"Please!" You practically whimper.
That seems to do it for him, his eyes glazing over with what you recognise as lust. As if the last of his self control just snapped. Anticipation makes your blood run hot.
"Then make it to three and we'll see if I'm feeling nice."
"Shit!" Yoongi's tongue plunges into your heat with a new found eagerness, thrusting in and out like a man deprived. You manage to maintain eye contact this time, falling apart at the way he groans in appreciation when he tastes himself, fucking your hole with his tongue mercilessly like he wants to get every last drop of his cum.
His thumb finds your clit and the coil in your lower belly tightens too rapidly for you to comprehend, tugging on his hair as you cry out. "Yoongi!"
"Cum for me."
His permission is all it takes to have you falling over the edge into a shattering orgasm that makes your vision turn black, mind wiped of any hesitation and guilt and replaced with a single word, over and over again: Yoongi.
When you finally take a gasping breath, he's there, rubbing encouraging circles into your hips and leaving kisses across your stomach that makes something in your chest warm, heart beating a little faster and not just from your orgasm.
"So fuckin' pretty when you cum." You're sure that's what he murmurs against your damp skin. "Can't believe I had to wait this long."
You furrow your brow. Yoongi sits back against his heels, wiping your arousal from his mouth with the back of his hand and flashing you a lazy but satisfied smile, looking awfully pleased with himself. Like this was his biggest dream come true.
It dawned on you that it probably was in someways -- what better way to get back at an old friend than by fucking his sister?
You suddenly feel like an idiot for letting him charm you, guilt washing through you, flying forward when your chest aches with regret.
Yoongi notices how you pale. "Are you okay? If that was too much then I'm really sorry--"
"Too much?" You suddenly feel exposed beneath his gaze, shuffling around to pull your skirt around your thighs, eyes roaming the room hurriedly for your panties so you can get out of here and quick. "This is all too much, Yoongi."
"What?" He puts a hand on your shoulder to stop you as you brush past him but the way you jolt at the touch makes him rip it away like he touched a live wire.
"I...shouldn't have come here. This was a mistake."
Namjoon's face was embedded in your mind. The way his eyes would crumple with betrayal if he found out you came here at all -- let alone let Yoongi take you so intimately. And you hadn't even tried to stop yourself from falling into him, gave in to your emotions too easily and allowed Yoongi to use you as a swipe at your own brother.
"Why? Didn't seem so upset when you were coming on my tongue." The scoff in Yoongi's voice makes you freeze.
"I can't stop you from hurting Namjoon," Your lip quivers and you have to press your nails into your palms to stop the tears spilling over. "But do you really have to hurt me, too?"
"Y/N, wait--"
Your hands shake as you grab your bag and head for the door. "Shit happened between you and my brother, I get it. But we were friends once, Yoongi. Doesn't that mean anything to you? We can't see each other again."
Your tears are warm in contrast to the cold evening air as you take off into a run, needing to get as far away from Yoongi and the evidence of your own betrayal as possible.
By the time you stumble back into the Big Hit company building, the studio is empty. To your surprise, words seem to flow out of you easier than they ever had before, a heart shaped stain appearing on the formerly empty page of your notebook.
--
Sleepless nights were becoming your norm. You had barely slept a wink since that night, not when every thought was plagued with guilt, the same name running circles around your mind, the same dark eyes and swollen lips and messy hair tauntingly appearing in your mind whenever your head hit the pillow.
Yoongi.
That night with Yoongi felt something like a dream, a hazy memory, the only evidence of it being real the fact that every time you closed your eyes you could feel the way Yoongi's hands burned your skin, how his lips moved perfectly in sync with your own.
As much as you knew it was a mistake, something that should have never happened, you couldn't help the way your heart throbbed every time you replayed it over and over in your mind, repeatedly, until you felt like you were going insane with guilt. It was eating you alive. But sometimes you would remember the way you felt when he was pressed up against you and every ounce of regret felt worth it.
You hated yourself for it, and you knew your brother would hate you to, if he ever found out.
He could never find out.
So, you take to avoiding Namjoon altogether. It wasn't that hard really, you knew his schedule well enough to be a step ahead of him at all times, and it wasn't as if he was enthusiastic about your company to begin with.
Of course sometimes your paths have to cross, but you still can't look Namjoon in the eyes when you slip into one of the Big Hit practice rooms where you know you'll inevitably find him.
The music hits before you even open the door. Namjoon is dressed in casual clothes, cap pulled down low over his face as he raps into a mic, the way his voice husks a tell tale sign that this was not the first time he'd gone over the same verse.
He seems stiffer than usual, all elbows and knees as he scrutinises his own form in the wall to floor mirror. You've seen him perform this choreography flawlessly hundreds of times so your brow furrows with confusion each time his feet miss a beat or his knees literally buckle under the pressure.
On the far side of the room sits a row of men and women in formal suits. Investors, brought in to bet on the contestant most likely to win. They watch Namjoon with intent eyes, some shaking their heads in disapproval, others whispering insults below their breaths.
Is that really Runch Randa? Pfft, he'll never win with footwork like that.
Jimin stands close by, hopping from one foot to the other and wincing with every mistake Namjoon makes. He's been making desperate phone calls for the last week, pleading with any investor he could get ahold of to take a chance on Namjoon which was hard to come by after the royal media fuck up the other day at the after party.
This was Namjoon's only chance at a do over — he needed their money if he wanted to win this thing. The judges were expecting a show from him. Smoke machines and good lighting are expensive, after all.
Namjoon, however, only seems interested in the reactions of your parents sat in the back row, expressions grave. He's chastising himself, self loathing evident in his eyes every time he stutters over a lyric. He knows how hard they worked to establish Big Hit and the disappointment in their eyes as it slowly slips through Namjoon's fingers like sand makes even you feel jittery with nerves.
For a brief moment you're grateful that you are practically invisible in this room, no eyes even glancing your way as you join them. You're glad that Namjoon takes the brunt of the pressure. You never were the strong sibling after all.
The music cuts, Namjoon coming to a stand still. He crumples at the knees, forehead pressed against the polished linoleum floor as he tries to catch his breath.
Jimin slumps into a chair, head in hands. That tells you all you need to know.
Investors leave the room, some sending apologetic looks towards Jimin with a shrug. Others deposit their cheque books back into their briefcases, taking pity on the pleading smiles and firm handshakes from your parents when they apologise for Namjoon's lacking performance. One even pats Namjoon on the back, following the small crowd as they leave the room. "Take a break, buddy."
Nearly everyone has filtered out before Namjoon gets to his feet shakily, slumping down into a seat beside you. You don't acknowledge him, afraid of what you might let slip if you do, fiddling with your camera as a distraction.
It's him who breaks the silence.
"How's the song coming along?" He seems disinterested, clicking his knuckles with no real intention of listening to your response.
"Fine." Another lie. It wasn't coming along at all, really, but now is probably not the best time to tell him when his nerves are already heightened by his failure to gain any crucial investments.
His eye is still slightly swollen from the fist fight a few days ago, a permanent line forming at the bridge of his nose that wasn't there before. You almost didn't recognise him. He stares at his own broken reflection in the steamed practice room mirrors vacantly, like he doesn't  even recognise himself.
A few moments of uncomfortable silence pass. Namjoon's heavy breathing slows to a regular pace.
"I know you went to see him."
It echos menacingly through the room and you stiffen, clutching the floor beneath you for support. Namjoon's hard eyes still don't look your way but you see him analysing your reaction in the mirror. The way your mouth gapes speechlessly tells him everything he needs to know.
"Not even gonna try and deny it?" His head shakes in disbelief.
You throb with guilt. "H-how did you find out?"
"I have people everywhere keeping an eye on him, Y/N. You're lucky the paparazzi didn't catch you, because it sure as shit looked shady. My own sister," He scoffs around the word, as if it tastes bad in his mouth. "Siding with him?"
You place a hand on his forearm, surprised to find him shaking beneath your touch. "I'm not siding with him, Namjoon."
"Then what are you doing?" He roars, ripping his arm away.
What was I doing? You don't even know yourself.
It takes everything inside you to keep the expression on your face neutral, to wipe away the regret and the sadness and the fear that makes your voice wobble.
"We just talked." You had to avert your gaze, scared that somehow your disingenuous eyes would give away what really happened with Yoongi — a little more than talking to say the least.
"About what?"
"The secret, okay? I wanted to protect you—"
"Protect me?" Namjoon pinched the bridge of his nose. "How is meddling in business that doesn't even concern you protecting me, Y/N?"
"Have you forgotten that what you're — we're — doing is against Mic Drop rules? That you could be disqualified or...worse! Get your trophy revoked?"
"Pfft. Yoongi won't say anything.."
"What makes you so sure?"
"It's me he wants to hurt. I know him, Y/N. He'd never forgive himself if you—" He eyes you carefully. "If anyone else got dragged into this. It's between me and him, that's it."
Your head is spinning. You remember a time when things weren't this way, back when Yoongi and Namjoon were friends. Partners. What happened between them that made them so hell bent on destroying one another?
"There are things about Yoongi that you will never understand, Y/N. Things he did that can never be forgiven."
It briefly crosses your mind that if Namjoon could cut Yoongi, his best friend, out of his life, just how easy it would be for him to do the same to you if he found out just how unforgivable your betrayal was. A funny feeling pools in your stomach, a distance settling between you and Namjoon as, to your dismay, you realise just how much you have in common with your brother's enemy.
"But what about you, huh? Why should he forgive you? You took everything from him! I'm not surprised he's back to kick your ass. If you ask me it's him who should be holding a grudge—"
Namjoon's hands clamp onto your shoulders and you recoil from the contact. You're breathing hard, the tears welling in your eyes threatening to spill over any second.
"Listen to me. He's trying to get in your head. You need to stay away from him Y/N. He's bad news."
"Tell me why! Help me understand!"
Namjoon's face is grave. "Some secrets are best kept that way. It'll only make it worse if I tell you."
Before you can protest he's striding across the room and hitting the play button on the boom box in the corner, music blasting from the speakers again.
"Joon—"
"Just stick to taking pictures and stop getting involved in business that doesn't concern you."
Then his body is twisting across the room in time to the music with an intensity he didn't possess before. Like a machine on autopilot.
You shove your camera into your bag and let the door slam shut behind you.
--
"We were a mistake."
The cursor flashing on the empty document on your computer screen feels like it's taunting you.
"Please don't tell my brother what we did."
You've been like this for the last week. Holed up in one of the tiny studios at the Big Hit company building, head swimming with beats and melodies and lyrics that just won't seem to fit together. Not when your mind is preoccupied with a more pressing issue.
"Are you thinking about me as much as I'm thinking about you?"
Yoongi.
God, how are you supposed to write this song for Namjoon when all you can think about is his enemy?
You don't know why you're still so hung up on Yoongi. It's not as if what happened between you meant anything. It was just a spur of the moment mistake. You were both tense and needed someone to help blow off some steam. That's it. Nothing more, nothing less.
Right?
You'll never admit that deep down, a part of you wants to see him again. To check that he's real and that you didn't imagine the whole thing. To see if he is going as crazy as you feel.
That's when the answer hits you. The only way to make this right is to end things once and for all. Tie up all your loose ends and tell Yoongi that you and him were a one time thing. Make sure you were on the same page.
Then maybe you'll be able to concentrate on helping Namjoon beat his ass.
A sudden confidence grips you, standing up abruptly from your desk, alerting the attention of Hoseok who up until now has been quietly engrossed in the track he's producing.
"Where are you going?" He asks.
There's an address burning at the forefront of your mind. You have the route committed to memory. How long it'll take to get there. How long it'll take to get back before anyone else at Big Hit notices your absence.
The only place you knew where you might find Yoongi.
"I won't be gone long. Cover for me if anyone sees I'm gone, 'kay?"
Hoseok eyes you curiously and pulls his headphones to sit around his neck. "O-okay but don't you think you should take an umbrella? It's raining and you might catch a cold — oh."
You don't hear him, the door already slamming behind you.
--
In hindsight, Hoseok was probably right. You're soaked before you even get half way to Yoongi's studio.
Not that you care. Not when there are so many things you want to say to Yoongi. So many questions only he knows the answer to.
Not when you're about to see him again and you're giddy and nervous and scared of the way your heart feels like it's about to bust out of your chest.
You don't really know why you're doing this. For Namjoon's sake? To ease your own guilty conscience? Both?
You shake your head before your confidence can deflate and focus on putting two feet in front of the other instead, trying to take your mind of your destination by focusing on your surroundings. You always liked this part of town, with it's bustling roads and street vendors and buskers. Here it's easy to forget, to just close your eyes and let the buzz of cars and the melody from a nearby street guitarist and the torrent of ice cold rain whisk you away, like life is operating at double the speed but you're too caught up in your own thoughts to care.
So caught up in your own thoughts that you don't spot the guy handing out flyers on the side of the street until your face is colliding with his shoulder.
"Shit, I'm so sorry!"
The guy lets out a groan as you helplessly watch his flyers flutter to the ground like autumn leaves, disintegrating on the rain dampened street.
"Does nobody look where they're going any more? My boss is going to kill me..."
The guy gets to his knees and starts grabbing as many flyers as he can by the handful.
"I'm so sorry, at least let me help?"
You hear him sigh deeply but he doesn't stop you when you drop down beside him.
You stamp on a flyer before it can be whisked away by the breeze. It's ruined. The rain makes the ink bleed into a black blotch in the center of the sodden paper, but if you squint you can just make out the barely legible print.
Live Classical Piano - 7:30 - 9:30 Every Wednesday At The Coffee House!
A throat clears, shaking you back to reality, and a nimble hand thrusts towards you, palm up, waiting for you to deposit the pile of flyers you collected.
"Just gonna stand there all day, sweetheart? Some of us have a job to do."
Shame heats your cheeks. "I wasn't looking where I was going, I'll pay for these —"
Its then, as you let your hood fall down, that the boy stiffens. You look up slowly, meeting a widened pair of piercing grey eyes for the first time. The very same eyes you haven't been able to get out of your head all week.
"Wait...Yoongi?"
It's him. He's here? A coincidence surely but it sure as shit doesn't feel like one.
Just seeing him knocks the breath out of your lungs.
Yoongi blinks a few times, eyes wide with disbelief. Then he's ripping the flyers from your slackened grip and grabbing you by the wrist, dragging you behind him to the side of the street where you're just out of view from passerby's.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" He deadpans.
You take in the way his mint hair clings damply to his forehead, shirt darker in places where droplets of rain soak into the fabric. He's wearing one of those traditional pianist outfits with the funny tuxedo jacket and a little black bow tie strung around his neck that looks like it came from a bad Beethoven Halloween costume. It catches you off guard. No wonder you didn't recognise him before. Not exactly hip hop.
"What are you doing here?"
Yoongi glances over his shoulder warily. "Look, you can't tell anyone you saw me here okay? Did Namjoon send you?"
"What? No--?"
"Just leave, Y/N. Before someone sees you here and tells your precious brother that you've been hanging around with scum like me." He spits, drops your arm and starts in the direction he came from.
"Yoongi, wait!" You blurt, throwing your hands up in frustration. He freezes."Can we...can we just talk?"
Yoongi nearly does a double take. He's usually full of jibes but this catches him off guard. "Talk?"
He backtracks, though you notice the way he keeps a safe distance between you. It feels silly considering how much...closer you were just a few days ago. You wonder, as his eyes look you up and down, if he's thinking about it too. If you crossed his mind as much as he crossed yours.
"Listen, I don't have time for this, I need to go get some more of these flyers..."
Your heart drops, embarrassed for even entertaining the idea that he would want to see you again.
"Please?"
He hesitates. You're sure he's going to blow you off again but then his eyes fill with something scarily close to concern. "Shit, you're shivering."
Your hair hangs in heavy tendrils around your face, droplets of cold rain caressing your cheeks. Your knees knock, arms wrapped around the damp hoodie clinging to your torso to retain some warmth.
Yoongi shrugs off his jacket, despite the way his own teeth chatter. "You're going to catch your death dressed like that."
You stand there dumbly as he holds it out to you. He kicks a stone with the toe of his sneaker awkwardly when you finally wrap it around your shoulders.
"I thought you didn't want to see me again." It's almost accusing but you're sure you hear a trace of a pout in his voice.
"I...I didn't want to." Yoongi looks up. "But I think we should talk about you know...us."
Yoongi bites his lip, like he's having an inner debate. Like he's about to do something he knows he shouldn't.
"Fine. Let's talk. I, uh, guess I have some things I need to say to you too." He scratches the back of his neck. "But not here. Could I—would it be weird if we got coffee or something?"
Definitely weird. That's what you should say. But you don't.
"Okay."
You don't miss the way Yoongi's cheeks turn a little red.
--
The coffee shop Yoongi takes you to is a quaint little place, definitely not the sort of establishment you expected rough-around-the-edges Min Yoongi to frequent with its exposed brick walls and mint green espresso mugs with smiley faces on the side that give it a somewhat cosy appeal.
"I work here," He explains when he sees your eyes roaming. "Needed some extra cash."
You nod. Makes sense. The smell of pumpkin bread and coffee beans is still a welcome relief from the bitter chill outside.
The guy at the counter nods in greeting when Yoongi approaches, already grinding up coffee like he knows his regular order. Yoongi flashes him a tight smile. You figure they know each other, not that Yoongi seems the type to mingle within barista social circles but then again he is full of surprises today.
They share a few hushed whispers, staring not so subtly in the direction of where you sit hunched in one of the corner booths, but you just ignore it by watching a rain drop crawl down the window with rapt attention.
Words barely pass between you and Yoongi until you're both seated, him with a coffee you learn he takes black and you with a much too sugary frappe which you take to stirring with your straw nervously, chin in palm.
It's Yoongi who finally breaks the silence.
"What are you thinking?" He looks at you expectantly over the rim of his mug. For some reason it makes you nervous.
Guilt niggles at your repose. The cafe is alive with indistinguishable chatter, a coffee machine whirring loudly nearby. In reality, you merely blend in to the hubbub. But as you watch Yoongi fiddle with the rings on his fingers in anticipation of your response it's like a hush has fallen and all eyes are on you. Judging, like they know how wrong it is for you to be here.
He's been the only thing on your mind all week but now you're here in front of him it's like your mind is blank.
"Did you tell anyone?"
Yoongi blinks. "Namjoon's secret? I said I wasn't going to say anything—"
"No. Our secret. Us..." It feels foreign, referring to Yoongi and yourself as a unit. You hate to admit it makes your heart beat a little faster. "Namjoon knows."
Yoongi's coffee cup clatters to the table and words rise like bile in your throat, everything you've been bottling up inside tumbling out before you can stop it.
"Namjoon knows! He found out about us somehow and now everything has gone to shit and...I shouldn't even be telling you this! God I'm an idiot! I just don't know what to do—"
Your wailing is interrupted suddenly by a warm hand covering your own. Yoongi's hand. The touch is gentle, comforting, something about the squeeze of reassurance it provides calming your hyperventilating. It feels right.
Why does it feel right?
Yoongi must misinterpret the puzzled look you flash him as a warning he's crossing a boundary because he retracts his arm jerkily, a flush creeping up his neck.
He glosses over the weird moment hastily.
"Slow down, go back. He knows?" There's a lilt of surprise to his voice. Either he's a really good actor or he is just as panicked as you by this news. "And you think I told him?"
"Well, not exactly. He knows some of it — not everything! — he thinks that I just spoke to you after the show...I assumed you would have filled in the blanks by now."
Yoongi laughs breathily. Relieved. It flummoxes you. Shouldn't he be satisfied that his plan to get under Namjoon's skin was a success?
"Y/N, there were hundreds of people at the gig, anyone could have seen us. Jimin and Hoseok probably told him. You act like I tried to seduce you just to get revenge, or something." He gulps back the last of his coffee and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before his expression suddenly turns serious. "You don't think that right?"
"Isn't that exactly what you did?"
Say no.
Yoongi opens his mouth and then shuts it again. He doesn't deny it.
Something in your chest twists with disappointment. It scares you shitless and you know you have to end this — whatever this is — before there's no turning back.
"Look, it — we — were a stupid mistake okay? I need to know that you're not going to use this against him. It would kill him."
"Mistake?" Yoongi's face drops. "Didn't I say you could trust me?"
It sounds somewhat pained, like he wasn't expecting you to think so lowly of him. His eyes soften with a certain gentleness now and you almost feel bad for thinking they could ever look at you with sinister intentions.
"Do you regret it? What we did?"
You hesitate. You want to say no so badly. But that's not why you came here.
Pull yourself together!
"Yes."
He raises an eyebrow. "You really believe that?"
"Do you regret it?"
"No." His eyes glint. You can't breathe. "Which is exactly why I'll never say a word. I don't play that way. Fair and square remember?"
You're speechless. All you can get out is a measly oh as you stare at the coffee in your cup and process.
"What did Namjoon say anyway?"
Your fingers find the patterns carved into the surface of the wooden table top, feeling the grooves as a distraction from the embarrassment flushing your cheeks. "He told me not to come back and find you."
A wry smile creeps across his face. "But you did?"
Even Yoongi is accusing you now? God, you played right into his hands. He's probably enjoying this. That you broke Namjoon's trust again, all for him.
The worst part is that you can hardly bring yourself to care. Sitting with Yoongi still feels deliciously indulgent — seeing his face again, feeling the heat of his body where your knees brush under the table finally satisfying a craving that had been growing inside you since that night in his studio.
"He doesn't control me."
He just nods. "I get that." His fingers tap in time with the sickeningly happy radio tune that plays overhead, eager to change the subject, like he's aware that he already said too much. "How is Namjoon anyway? You written him a song yet?"
Not allowed. If any information gets leaked about Namjoon's Mic Drop stage the first person he'd blame was you. You had to keep your lips tightly sealed.
You shrink back into your seat. "You know I can't tell you that."
"Okay, then." Yoongi throws his arms over the back of his chair, a cheekiness in his voice, like he's testing the waters to see how you'll react. "Ask me something instead. I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Shoot."
That's allowed, right? Where's the harm. If it doesn't involve Namjoon then it can't hurt him...
"Okay..." You purse your lips, eyes travelling around the dimly lit coffee shop. "Why do you work...here?"
Yoongi nods to the stack of damp flyers beside him. Live classical piano. "I play piano here sometimes." He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. It's kinda cute. "Needed some spare cash and this was the only place that could take me at such short notice."
"You play piano?"
He nods and you follow his gaze to the grand piano stood unoccupied in the corner. You imagine how Yoongi would look bent over the keys. How his fingers would move across the instrument with concentrated precision. How the tune would mingle with the warmth of the coffee shop on a cold evening.
"I didn't know you like classical music?"
"I don't. Not really." He cocks his head, finding the right words. "Namjoon has investors right? People who just throw money at him?" You nod, somehow ashamed. "Teaching me to play piano was my mom's investment in me. She always said it might come in handy some day."
You nod. "And do you have to wear that stupid costume every time?"
"This?" A snort leaves you when he shoots you a look, a shy smile finding the curve of his lips. "Don't mean to brag but it's a huge hit with the older ladies."
You can't help but laugh when he smugly tugs at the bow tie around his neck, unable to miss how his eyes light up. You share a smile that makes you feel light headed.
"I'd have to see it to believe it."
"Well, you know where to find me if you're ever bored and need a good laugh on a Tuesday, Wednesday or Friday evening." He shifts in his seat. "Or you could just come back to my place, y'know if you wanted to —" You frown, the easiness that had settled between you dissipating as you both sense the inappropriateness of his suggestion. "I know I shouldn't ask, it's just I have a piano and—"
For some reason the rational part of your brain taps out and your heart says fuck it.
"I'd love to."
--
"So, where do you live?" You ask when you finish your drink and nervously copy Yoongi who is already getting to his feet.
"Oh about that...I live in the apartment upstairs actually." He chuckles sheepishly."Cheap rent, you know?"
It takes you by surprise but you don't press.
"Oh. Right."
Yoongi extends a hand towards you. The thud in your chest gets faster when you slide your palm into his and he pulls you behind him to the foot the stairway you had disregarded upon entry, the distressed baby blue door at the top labelled RESIDENTS ONLY seeming strangely inviting.
Yoongi gestures for you to go first and you've barely ascended three steps before a voice rings out behind you, making you freeze like a child caught in a mischievous act.
"Use protection you two! And close the door so that Odengie's innocence isn't compromised this time!"
The barista from before rounds the corner, a tray of empty mugs in his left hand and a cloth for wiping down tables in the other.
You suppress a laugh. "Odengie?"
"His goddamn sugar glider—" He says it more to himself rather than in response to your query, flashing the tousled haired boy an exasperated look. "Really, bro?"
The other man either doesn't notice or doesn't care. "What? He's too young to learn how baby sugar gliders are made." His eyes suddenly flit to you and, as if remembering his manners, he deposits the cloth onto a nearby table and reaches a damp hand through the staircase to shake yours with a friendly smile. "I'm Jin, by the way."
You take it cautiously, wiping your now wet hand on the back of your jeans. "Nice to meet you?"
"Come on," Yoongi is flushed red as he pushes you up the rest of the stairs with a pressure at the small of your back. "We'll be back down in a minute, chill okay?"
Yoongi shoulders his way into the apartment, pulling you across the threshold alongside him, but not before you catch a glimpse of Jin's teasing grin poking around the staircase, words reaching your ears before Yoongi could slam the door shut in time.
"Oh, so it's a quickie? Have fun!"
A laugh escapes your lips, Yoongi pressing his back to the door with a sigh of relief. "Sorry about him. He's my roommate. Kind of came with the apartment, you know?"
You glance around at the small maisonette that unfolds before you curiously. It feels more like a dorm room, a mismatch pile of shoes piled at the entry way, a pair of beanbags substituting a couch surrounding a small gaming set up littered with empty pizza boxes you presume belong to Seokjin.
"Ah. He's part of the furniture then."
The other corner of the room is littered with an assortment of vinyls strewn out beside a pair of speakers and a record player, the needle still hovering over the grooves of an album by an artist you don't recognise. Yoongi's touch to the decor, you suppose.
"Guess you could say that. He's not so bad once you get over the uh...small rodents."
You trail behind Yoongi into what you assume is his bedroom, if the frameless mattress which lay on the floor in the corner beneath the window with sheets unmade and strewn across the floor messily was anything to go by.
He flicks on the set of fairy lights tacked to the wall, a surprisingly homely touch that makes you think Yoongi isn't as cold as you believe him to be.
Yoongi approaches a clothes rack stuffed with a variety of stage outfits. "Here." He pulls an oversized hoodie from one of the hangers, throwing it at you from across the room. "You're clothes are still wet. Wouldn't want to catch a cold. You can wear this until they dry."
"O-Okay." You stand there dumbly. He isn't expecting you to strip right in front of him, is he?
He seems to sense your hesitance, turning around so his back is to you with wide eyes. He plays it off by grabbing a selection of clothing for himself, shuffling past you with eyes trained to the ground. "I'll use the bathroom. Tell me when you're done."
You are soaked through to your underwear but you leave them on since Yoongi probably didn't have a spare pair of panties laying around you could borrow. The fabric of his hoodie is soft and warm when it slips over your otherwise bare skin and you breath in the woody scent that seems to embrace your entire body, ignoring the way it makes your head dizzy, and roll up the large sleeves to free your hands before calling to him that you are done.
When he re-enters the room, pulling a grey beanie over his head haphazardly to match the much more Yoongi appropriate outfit of a simple white tee and sweats, his breath hitches at your bare legs peeking out from the bottom of the garment. His lingering stare makes you hug your torso self consciously, eyes never leaving you even as he grabs the pile of sodden clothing you discarded earlier and lays them neatly over the radiator to dry.
You practically hear the way he swallows awkwardly when his eyes lock with yours, caught in the act. He's quick to lighten the mood.
"Well...here she is."
You turn as he moves across the room to the piano occupying the opposite wall, wood stained dark but bleached slightly in places by the stream of sunlight which washes its surface from the opposite window. The stool beneath it scrapes against the scuffed floor boards when Yoongi makes enough space to seat himself on top of the blue velour cushion.
"I know it's not much — nothing like you're used to I mean, but it makes music just the same."
He must take the way you hang back near the door frame as a sign of your distaste which couldn't have been further from reality; it's simply to allow you to study the way Yoongi sits with his back perfectly straight, fingers lingering over the keys like he knows the piano as well as an old friend. And, though you'll never admit it, the way your heart thumps at the thought of being in Yoongi's most private space.
"Where did you get it?"
"It was my mother's." The breath you suck in is slightly too harsh. "Like I said earlier, she liked to play, before she..."
Died. The word never passes between his lips but it sits heavy in the air like a weight.
Yoongi's eyes avert yours so you don't press any further, instead focusing your attention to the pattern of scratches embedded into the piano's lid, unable to help the way your fingers trace the coffee cup rings littering the surface like rugged halos. "It's beautiful."
The side panel is littered with lines, carved deeply into the wood with a penknife; a makeshift height chart like the one you had on the back of your bedroom door as a kid. Your drop to your knees to squint at the nearly illegible words scrawled next to the markings that ascend almsot to the top of the instrument.
Yoongi aged 3...Yoongi aged 4...Yoongi aged 5...
All the way until Yoongi aged 7 where they stop completely.
You frown but he lets out a soft laugh, somewhat pained. "That's when she got sick. I grew up quickly after that."
Straightening up, you swallow thickly, unsure what to say, so you just settle for changing the subject instead.
"So, what can you play?"
Yoongi fiddles with the open sheet music book on the piano stand. His fingers tremble slightly as he turns the worn pages before finally settling on a sheet that is lightly crumpled and ripped around the edges and coffee stained and ferociously dog eared at the corners. Tell tale signs that he had played this piece before, over and over again.
His favourite, you perceive.
Sure, he had literally fucked you into next week already but your hands get clammy at the knowledge that Yoongi feels comfortable enough to share such an intimate tidbit about himself with you. Music means a lot to him after all. Anyone can see that.
You catch a glimpse of the piece over his shoulder.
Romeo and Juliet - Love Theme.
Yoongi notices how you raise a brow at his choice.
"I know I said I don't like classical music but this arrangement is different. You know the story right?"
High school had given you enough general knowledge about Romeo and Juliet for you to nod in confirmation.
"It's like you can feel the passion they have for each other in every note, you know? Like nothing could ever come between them."
His words are so earnest they make your heart ache. You hadn't put him down as the hopeless romantic type.
"I mean not really. They still die in the end." You counter. He frowns.
"But only because of their fucked up families. It's their feud that comes between them in the end. This piece comes before all the shitty parts. If you play it over and over again it's like they never stop loving one another."
His hands fold in his lap and he sucks in a bashful breath, nose scrunching with embarrassment at his dramatic outburst. "It's stupid. I know. Forget I said it."
"No, no I understand completely. Maybe if they weren't so busy fighting they could have listened to their hearts. Right?"
"Right." He scoots across the piano stool, patting the empty space beside him with an encouraging look. "Sit."
Like a magnet you find yourself drawn to his side, shivering when his shoulder brushes yours. His arms hover over the piano, poised and relaxed, concentration etched into the hard lines of his face.
"Ready?"
You can only nod. And then he starts to play.
Yoongi's fingertips eagerly caress the keys of his piano, eyes lifting from the sheet music to gauge your reaction while his hands carry the melody on autopilot, the pretty silver rings he dons glinting with every movement. His neck is bent slightly, allowing his head to bob and sway along with the rise and fall of the rhythm, eyes screwing shut as the composition reaches its most pivotal sequence.
He's practically raking the keys now, pure passion and violent emotion splashing every inch of the room. You shut your own eyes, hands clutching the bottom of the stool until your knuckles whiten, like you might float away with the beautiful tune if you don't ground yourself.
When he said you could feel passion with every note he wasn't wrong. You could feel his passion clear as day.
Slowly, he comes back down from his high, wrists coming to a standstill. All he can do is take in heaving, ragged breaths, body slumped down, spent with the sheer effort expelled in his performance. Oxygen is lodged in your own lungs as you take in how how his bangs stick to the beads of sweat prevalent on his forehead
You recover before he does, unconsciously fumbling around in your tote bag, hands curling around the Polaroid camera you bring everywhere just in case a photo opportunity arises.
They never usually do. Until now.
"Stay like that." The viewfinder raises to your eye and you snap a shot of him with precision, the soft click that emanates through the room making Yoongi's eyes snap open.
The picture dispenses from the camera, black square fading out to reveal a hazy image as you shake it back and forth. Yoongi, face relaxed, lashes pressed softly to the tops of his cheeks with a lazy smile.
It's the Yoongi you remember. Your Yoongi.
He smirks when you slide it into the back pocket of your jeans, cheeks glowing with a contentedness you hadn't seen for a long time. "You always did like taking pictures of me."
"Shut up."
When your hand tentatively closes over his where it still rests on the piano, it's his turn to shoot you a curious look. With a shaky breath you flip his palm, slotting your fingers together perfectly, and lean across the piano to press your lips against his.
His mouth is softer than you remember, not attacking with the rich taste of lust but rather caressing your lips gently, sweetly. Taking your time to commit each tickle of breath against your nose, each slide of his bottom lip between yours, to memory. Everything other than the dizzying sensation of his tongue tracing your bottom lip disappears. All your worries, reluctances, regrets,  just dissolving like the setting sun.
Everything feels safe here with him. Everything feels right.
It barely lasts a minute, not much more than a delicate brush really, but when he pulls back you are already breathless, immediately starved of the satisfaction that came from finally feeling him against you again, tasting the spearmint mixed with something so inherently Yoongi you didn't quite realise how much you were craving.
Yoongi sighs blissfully. You need more.
Your hands tangle in the front of his T-shirt but before you can pepper his mouth with a series of further eager kisses, his free hand plants on your shoulder and pushes you back carefully.
"About what you said the other night." His eyes are wide with concern, trained to your lips, resisting the urge to capture them again with all his self control. It made your heart flip. "I don't want to hurt you Y/N. We don't have to do this—"
"I want to. So bad." His thumb caresses your knuckles. "I trust you."
In that moment, it's true. You trust him more than you've ever trusted anything in the world.
"But Namjoon..."
His words fade out when you lean in for another reassuring peck. Namjoon's name falling from Yoongi's lips doesn't make your skin crawl like it usually did. In fact you feel nothing at the mention of your brother.
"To hell with Namjoon. I'm a big girl. I know what I want."
Yoongi grins, hand coming to cup your cheek tentatively, eyes crinkling with what you could only describe as liberation. "And what's that?"
Your eyes narrow in on his parted mouth again.
"You."
His eyes darken and then his hands are tangling in your hair and pulling your chest flush to his in a kiss that is far rougher than before. No more beating around the bush. Just passion as you crawl into his lap and kiss him like it's the first time — or perhaps, more accurately, the last time. Like the world will end if you part for a single breath.
Fingers find the hem of his shirt and you're pulling it up his torso greedily, heart beating a little faster when you feel his warm skin beneath your fingertips. His chest is softer than you expect, a perfect contrast to the strong arms wrapping around your waist to pull you back to his lips.
It's not long before you feel his pants fill out underneath you. The feeling is all too familiar, reminding you of how it felt to be above him like this in his studio. That night feels like a life time away as his hands grab your hips and press you roughly down onto his crotch.
You both groan out at the feeling, something intense, something primal, heating up between your legs as you circle his clothed length, want and need blending into one as your core dampens with every twist of your hips.
Yoongi breaks away from your lips with a gasp when your fingers reach between your body and find the sensitive head of his cock, a wet patch forming on his sweats. His eyes are shut, head thrown back against the piano top as he bites into his thumb to stop little moans tumbling from his swollen lips.
He shoots upright when you slide down his torso, hardwood cold against your bare knees, fingers fumbling with the strings of his pants. When you finally get them open and slip your hand beneath the waistband, Yoongi all but groans at the feel of your cool palm grabbing his hot cock skin on skin.
You shimmy his sweats around his thighs, mouth practically watering as you eye up his pulsing length, unable to resist stroking it firmly with your fist. A hand covers yours.
"Wait!" A strangled noise of agony rips from his chest when your grip loosens, desperate to buck up into your touch but managing to stay firmly planted to the stool in favour of gaining your consent. "Are you sure?"
You scoff teasingly. "Would I be on my knees if I wasn't?"
His laugh is breathy, half a moan as you pick up your pace again. "Just nervous — ah!" A soft kitten lick to the reddened tip of his cock has him flying forward, knuckles white as they grip your shoulder.
"Min Yoongi gets nervous?" The precum that coats your tongue is salty, makes you itch to take him into your mouth fully.
"Shut up." His breathing is ragged, hands hovering over your hair. "Didn't think this would happen again. Needs to be perfect — holy fuck Y/N."
You give no warning before you sink down on his length, his hands finally tangling in your hair and tugging lightly when your nose presses to his pubic bone, groaning around him when you feel the head of his cock pulsing in the back of your throat.
"So warm, shit."
You come up for air, lips wrapping around his head and enjoying the way his thighs trembled when your tongue runs teasingly along the underside of his cock. His hand pushes at the back of your head, forcing his length further down your throat than you're expecting until you gag around his girth.
"Shit, sorry."
The groan that follows doesn't sound very apologetic though. The visual of your drool coating his painfully hard length mixed with the sensation of your warm mouth engulfing him whole nearly has him blowing his load then and there, utterly fucked out and oblivious to the string of groans leaving his lips when you finally come up for air. Tears streak your cheeks and Yoongi wipes them away with his knuckle tenderly.
"God, look at you." He's breathless, amazed. "C'mere."
A hand cups your elbow, pulling you to your feet so he can connect your lips again, humming when he tastes himself on your tongue. His hands are all over you now as he wraps you in his arms and stumbles backwards your back is pressed to the mattress in the corner. It dips in the middle when he crawls over you, tucking away strands of hair that fan around your face like a halo before his mouth is on you again like he can't quite help himself.
A series of open mouthed kisses caress your jaw, then your neck, all the way down your chest. Yoongi's eyes flick up to watch your face, lips parted with want as his hands fiddled with the hem of his own much too big hoodie swaddling your body.
"Can I?"
Your hand threads into his hair encouragingly. "Please."
A gasp passes his lips when he finally pulls the fabric over your head, eyes following his curious calloused hands as they explore the expanse of skin exposed to him now you're left in just your bra and panties.
"So beautiful." He traces his fingers down your shoulders, down the valley of your breasts, across your stomach. The light and delicate touches have you shivering, writhing for more. Almost as desperate to feel him everywhere as he is to worship every inch of you.
His touch stops at the hem of your panties. You're already working on the clasp of your bra, a violent nod the only permission he needs to drag the fabric agonisingly slow down your legs, unhooking them from your ankles carefully.
When he looks back up you are completely bare, laid out beneath the stream of half-sun-half-moon bathing the room.
Yoongi pounces, lips wrapping around one of your nipples greedily, tongue swirling around the hardened bud until you're gasping his name over and over.
"Can't believe you're letting me see you like this."
Hands wrap around your thighs, legs falling open, the way he licks his lips as he takes in your glistening heat not going unnoticed.
Yoongi's head shakes in disbelief, mumbling words which sound an awful lot like so pretty and fucking gorgeous as his head dips and he continues his trail of earlier kisses, tongue laving over your inner thighs and edging ever closer to your aching core.
"W-wait." Yoongi freezes and comes up to meet your face. His breath is hot against your cheek, eyes scanning your face for hesitation.
"What is it? Are you okay?" He's frantic, swallowing nervously as his palms cup your face. "Want to take care of you this time. What is it? Tell me."
"I'm fine. More than fine." You brush your noses together. It makes him smile. "Just want to feel you, that's all. Now."
Yoongi lets out a dramatic sigh, voice high and whiny. "But I've been dreaming about how you taste for days, Y/N. Literally. Dreaming about it."
You don't mention how you've been replaying the visual of his lips wrapped around your clit and edging you over and over again since it happened, just stroke his cheek in mutual understanding.
"Too bad. You'll just have to wait until next time." His features light up at the promise of a next time. Another moment like this, just you and him.
His face falls into the crook of your neck, nibbling the sensitive skin teasingly as a hand trails between your legs. When the pads of his fingers circle your entrance you whimper, clit throbbing with want when his hand pulls away nearly as quick as it came.
The want only intensifies when he brings two of his arousal coated digits to his mouth with closed eyes, guttural moan vibrating your flush chests when he savours the taste of your arousal coating his fingers.
"Next time." He hums and you are sure you nearly came untouched.
"Need you. Now."
He wastes no time taking his achingly hard cock into his fist, placing a supportive hand on your hip as he lines himself up with your entrance. You whine when he drags the tip up and down your slit, giving some brief but much needed stimulation to your clit.
Before he can push inside though you place a hand on his chest to stop him. He doesn't have time to dote on you again though because without further ado you're whipping off the beanie that still sits snugly around his head, throwing it across the room with a smirk.
His eyes glint fondly. "Whoops."
The room has grown darker by now, only lit by the gentle sparkle of the fairy lights and Yoongi has to feel around in the sheets to find your hand. In the same moment he tangles your fingers together beside your face, he pushes inside with a gasp.
Unlike the first time in his studio, Yoongi is in no rush. He wants to savour it. He fills you slowly, so that you can feel every ridge of his length dragging against your velvety walls. When he finally bottoms out and your hips press flush together, you squeeze his hand. Tight. It's this small action that tells him everything he needs to know. Explains the funny feeling in your chest without ever saying the words.
Your legs wrap around his back automatically when his hips begin to rock, angling your body so that he hits so deep with every thrust it steals the breath straight from your lips. Arousal drips from your heat down onto the bed sheets, making each slide deliciously smooth.
"Yoongi I.." It almost slips from your lips. The deepest, darkest secret that you haven't quite admitted to yourself yet.
Yoongi just ups his pace, exchanging words for actions to show you he feels the same. Fucking you a little harder, a little deeper. More sincerely. It compensates for the words neither of you know how to say.
"I know." You feel so full, so warm when he places his forearms at either side of your head to press you into the mattress. "I know."
All the yearning inside you disappears. All that matters is you and Yoongi now, nails scratching up his back, his forehead pressing to yours so that your moans mingle together until you can't tell whose was whose any more.
With a fucked out moan against your lips he's spilling inside you, sending you over the edge with him, hissing as you clench tightly around his cock.
All thoughts are wiped from your mind. Apart from the sensation of his cheek pressed to your chest, hot breath against your collar bone. How you can't believe you lived in a world without Yoongi in it. How you never want to go without him again. How you don't think you can deny how Yoongi makes you feel anymore even if you tried.
The stars behind your eyes fade, and when you come back down, Yoongi is hovering over your body, lips parted and eyes blown out, mesmerised. He's sweaty and smiling and you can feel the way his heart beats in time with yours.
"You okay?"
"Never better." His smile stretches into a grin when your words slur together. "—'m so happy."
A soft, chaste kiss is pressed to your forehead and before you know it Yoongi is tangling your legs together and wrapping the sheets around your bodies, entwined as one.
Me too. You knew that's what he meant. You'd dwell on it another time. For now your eyes are falling shut, satisfied as you inhale Yoongi's scent on the sheets...
Before a blissful slumber could take you away, you're interrupted by a series of knocks against the bedroom door. Both you and Yoongi shoot upright, exchanging a puzzled glance.
"I thought you said it was gonna be a quickie. Come on man, I need to use the bathroom!"
Yoongi groans into the pillow.
"That's it. I'm getting a new roommate."
--
As the weeks go by you start spending less and less time at the Big Hit office, turning up late to your shifts or clocking out before they were up. The perks of being employed by your parents is that they can't fire you in good conscience, you suppose.
Instead you increasingly find yourself at Yoongi's apartment, writing lyrics at the piano when he was around (sometimes even when he wasn't) or down in the coffee shop, helping yourself to hot chocolate refills on your work breaks. Jin joked that you'd need to start paying rent soon.
Just like how you were able to pick apart each of the boys' influence on the apartment the first time you went there, your own presence was becoming ever apparent.
In the way you spilled sugar on the counter when making tea and always forgot to clean it up, much to Jin's dismay. How some of your own hoodies and pyjama pants had begun to smell like Yoongi's washing powder, ending up folded neatly in his laundry basket and stowed away on his clothing rack like they belonged there. The way his piano top was littered with open notebooks filled with your messy scrawl and pens with the caps lost and half empty mugs stained around the rim with your chapstick.
Yoongi seemed wary at first, cautious to let you get too comfortable around him, dropping you home late at night once the lights in your house switched out and you knew it was safe to go inside.
But eventually he started to crave the little things that reminded him of you, unable to stop the smiles which crept onto his face as he loaded the dishwasher with the mugs and carried you to bed when you fell asleep at the piano stool.
Your bed. That's what you'd taken to calling it now.
Yoongi hated to admit that he was weak. When he got up on stage he was Gloss, hard faced and brazen and ruthless. But here with you, the facade he tried to uphold seemed to crumble into nothing. And the worst part was that he loved it.
Even when he was performing at the club or practicing for the competition, his thoughts always ended up wandering back to you. There were times when your schedules clashed or it was too risky to see each other or times you were simply too exhausted once you got home, falling into bed as soon as you crossed the threshold. But the knowledge that you were always there waiting for each other became the only safe place he knew and that was enough.
Of course you still had to oversee Namjoon's Mic Drop stage, it was your job after all, but that never seemed to come up when you were together. Just watching movies on his laptop or laughing at ungodly hours while you filled each other in on anecdotes that happened in the time you were apart, retreating beneath the sheets when Jin banged on the wall because it was four in the morning so would you please shut the fuck up.
For the first time in a long time you felt happy. Like you belonged somewhere that was all your own. No more answering to Namjoon or your parents. Just your own heart. And it always seemed to lead you back here to Yoongi, straight into his arms.
And as much as you hated yourself for it, you could feel your resentment for Namjoon growing. You'd be damned if you let him take this away from you, like he'd taken everything else.
Eventually, you stopped crawling through your bedroom window like a goddamn teenager and your parents stopped questioning why you never came home anymore. The cracks between you became a chasm. And right now, Yoongi was the band aid holding you together.
--
When Yoongi returns home later than usual, he's not even surprised when he ascends the stairs and find you and Jin laid out on the bean bags, already tipsy on red wine and giggling at his disgruntled expression.
That is until you take in the weary lines that had etched their way into his forehead, how his eyes look sunken and puffy. How his hands tremble against your waist when you pull him into your arms, body swaying back and forth lightly in your grasp like he could topple over any second.
You know what overworked looks like — after all, you had tended to Namjoon plenty of times when he refused to stop at his limits, barraging through them instead, a habit Yoongi also seemed to possess.
Ordered to stay on bed rest, Yoongi slumps face down into his pillow, letting out a long groan of relief when the mattress cushions his aching limbs.
You're already tucking him in, half way to the door to prepare him a hot cup of honey and lemon to soothe the husk in his throat from rapping too aggressively when his arms loop around your waist and pull you down to snuggle into the crook of your neck contentedly.
"Yoongi, let me go." It's futile, his grip is firm and he is already kicking the sheets over your body and pressing his cheek to the left side of your chest where you're sure he can hear how your heart races, a pout evident in your voice. "I want to take care of you."
"Mmf you are.." Words already slurring with the beginnings of sleep, he smiles groggily when you fall slack in his grasp and press your cheek to the top of his head in defeat. "Stroke my hair please?"
As soon as your fingers tangle in his blue locks he lets out a sigh of relief, like he'd been waiting to feel the touch all day.
Watching his face relax as he drifts off, you bask in the warmth of fulfilment singing your very nerve ending and silently wish that you can stay like this forever.
Just you and Yoongi against the world.
At some point your own eyes fall shut.
--
You're awoken by the sounds of muffled sobs.
The dark room momentarily disorientates you, heart quickening as you realise you're not in your own bed. Eventually your eyes adjust to the blackness, taking in the piano stood sturdily in the corner, breathing in the scent lingering on the pillow beneath your cheek and you're washed with a wave of comfort.
"Yoongi?" You croak.
The sheets are ripped from your body as Yoongi's form shoots upright. His bare back is damp with sweat, visible in the moonlight creeping through the slanted blinds, mattress rocking slightly with every sob that wracks his frame.
"Go back to sleep." His voice is gruff , but forcibly so and you hear the tremor lurking below the surface.
You sit up beside him. His face is buried in his palms. The sight makes your heart ache.
"Are you okay?" You're still new to this. Sure you're tangled up in his sheets most nights but you're still learning the ropes, unsure how best to comfort him. You settle for gently patting his shoulder, wincing at how cold and distant the action feels.
"I said go back to sleep." When his face emerges from between his hands you see the tell tale tracks of tears streaking his cheeks. Even when he wipes his face with the back of his palm there's a steady stream of them dripping down his chin.
"Is that what you really want?"
Yoongi presses his mouth together in a tight line, eyes black and empty as he tilts his head back and takes a shaky breath. That's when he crumbles. "Please stay."
"Oh, Yoongi." It's barely a whisper, afraid that if you speak too loud he'll shatter into a million pieces. He's like a scared kid, knees hugged to his chest as he wipes the hot tears from his eyes with a hard rub of his knuckles.
Yoongi stiffens when you fumble under the sheets to find his hand. You think he might pull away as you link your fingers with his but to your surprise he pulls your interlocked palms into his lap and squeezes so hard you feel the circulation in your fingers cutting off. The way he chokes back another sob stops you from complaining though, already cupping his cheek and tilting his face towards yours with your free hand.
"Why are you doing this?" His eyes squeeze shut, fresh tears sliding down his face and doing nothing to hide the slight tinge of red beneath them that tell you he's embarrassed to be seen like this. Vulnerable, so unlike the hard faced Yoongi you had come to know.
"Because I want to." You squeeze his hand and feel him squeeze back weakly. "You can tell me anything, you know."
Pressing his forehead to yours, Yoongi leans down and captures your lips between his own. I know, it says.
This is different to the way he usually kisses you. There's no hunger, no hands on your neck and your thighs that set you alight with desire. Just a sense of yearning, like he wants to be closer to you, the plump flesh of his lips slotting between yours like a perfect puzzle piece, slightly salty from his tears. It makes you ache all over, like you're somehow connected and sharing his pain.
He pulls away, sharp exhales tickling your face as he scans your eyes for any sign of hesitation, any sign that you're going to leave him here alone. This is side of Yoongi that you have never seen before. He always said he isn't good with words and you know better than anyone that he hated admitting that he needed someone. This was is his way saying he needs you.
And in that moment you feel a piece of your heart flutter into his hands.
"Nightmares." He mumbles, swallowing thickly and tipping his head back against the headboard, expression pained "Just nightmares."
"Want to talk about it?" You sit back next to him, and when he rolls his neck to face you. He looks unreadable again. Eyes void. You half think he's going to push you away, turn over and fall back asleep and leave you to stare at the ceiling alone with the silence.
But he doesn't. Instead he lets out a deep sigh, shaking his head at himself as he pulls you into his arms, stroking your cheek fondly when your head comes to rest on his chest, burying his nose in your hair.
"Why can't I say no to you?"
"Guess I have that affect on people."
He snorts lightly, the first proper reaction he'd given you and you're pleased at his amusement. Pleased you were able to comfort him somewhat.
Unspoken words cloak a heavy silence for what feels like hours, just tracing mindless patterns on his arm and listening to the way his heart slows to a normal pace beneath your cheek, grip around your torso never faltering. When his breaths dwindle to soft puffs against your temple you think he's already drifted off.
Until, "Do you remember when I convinced Namjoon to sign up for Mic Drop the first time. The day after my mom died?" His voice is gravelly, both with sleep and a sign of his withheld tears.
"Of course I do." You swivel in his arms to blink up at him curiously. Sure you remembered. After the funeral, your parents had taken Yoongi in — a repayment they called it. For helping Namjoon achieve his dreams. Of course, that was before you realised just how much Yoongi would help.
Yoongi became a part of the family for a short while. An extra seat at family dinners. Another pair of shoes by the front door. Another bed in Namjoon's room.
"Back then, I was too trusting. I thought that they wanted to help me...I thought that they saw me as their son." He spits the word with the bitterness of a man who was stripped of the title of 'son' before he knew what it really meant.
You think back to how Namjoon and Yoongi used to be. Joined at the hip, everyone used to say. Brothers.
"I think they did—"
"No." He stiffens. You bite your lip. "Namjoon never cared about me. He just saw me as a way to get to the top. And it worked."
You feel a pang in your chest.
"I'm sorry, he's your brother. I shouldn't be talking about this with you."
Yoongi almost turns away but you stop him by pressing your lips to his briefly. Telling him its okay. You understand.
"The nightmares." You say with an eagerness to change to subject before you could dwell on it too hard. Before you could admit to yourself that Yoongi was right. "You didn't say what they were about?"
"I'm getting there." He lets out a strained chuckle and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. The action makes you shiver.
"The last time I saw my mother she said that she wasn't scared to die. She was just scared that she'd miss seeing me on the stage. She was the only one who believed in me." The next words come out choked. "She said that if she couldn't be there to see it then I needed to make as many goddamn people watch me lift that trophy as I could."
Mic Drop was never about the fame for Yoongi after all. It always ran deeper than that; a need not a want. A vulnerable promise left unfulfilled.
The realisation makes you blanch. All this time, all these years, you hadn't been able to see the real greed right in front of your eyes; your own brother.
The image of Yoongi, crumpled and broken on that fateful day all those years ago makes its way to the forefront of your mind.
The same anger flashes across his face now. "Namjoon took that from me. I don't care about the fans or the money or the trophy — none of that shit! He took my dream Y/N. Do you understand how that feels?"
You find yourself nodding, slowly at first and then with vigour as the dam inside you breaks and your own tears flood. "I do. I understand."
And you do. You understand why Yoongi is so determined to win Mic Drop. You understand why he hates Namjoon as much as he does. You understand how it feels to always fall second best to Namjoon, to be outcasted.
"I keep forgetting her face. I can't hear her voice in my head anymore." Yoongi's crying again now, heavy sobs no longer able to be contained. "But in the dreams she's so clear. The disappointment in her eyes, its so clear, Y/N." His words are interrupted by hiccups that leave him gasping.
"I'm sorry." You whisper once he calms. It's all you know how to say.
"Not your fault." He flashes you a watery smile, wiping away the tear on your cheek with his knuckle. It makes your heart flutter, even despite the guilt weighing on your shoulders.
You feel useless. It wasn't your fault directly but you couldn't help but feel like you wronged Yoongi. All of this happened right in front of your eyes but you were too blinded by Namjoon's broken promises to see it. All this time you had let Namjoon make you think Yoongi was the enemy.
"I'm here now." Hands plant on either side of his face, eyes meeting his. "I believe in you."
He doesn't need to say anything. The way he kisses you speaks louder than words.
All you can do now is hold him, tangling your legs with his and pulling the covers over your intertwined bodies, stroke his cheek with your thumb and pepper kisses to his strained forehead which relaxes beneath your affections.
"I'll make this right." You whisper into his hair after his eyes flutter closed and the sun starts peeking through the window, watching dust particles floating in a stream of light in the room's golden glow through lidded eyes. "I promise."
--
"I like this." Jimin nods enthusiastically along to the track playing through the headphones Namjoon placed over his ears. "Sounds like a hit to me."
Namjoon's face contorts into a scowl. He disagrees, obviously, if the disgusted shake of his head is any indication.
Mic Drop is just a few days away and Namjoon had decided to scrap his entire stage after Jimin scored a couple big last minute investors who suggested he do something new, something exciting. Something that pushed Runch Randa's limits.
It was a bold move, this close to the big day. But Namjoon was cocky, said that he had enough experience in the industry to win in his sleep. Practice was a waste of time anyway.
"Next one." He waves his hand, barely even glancing in your direction as you press a button that cuts off the track and makes another one start playing.
The bass is louder in this one and it makes Jimin startle backwards, the headphone jack slipping loose so the music plays through the speakers instead.
"Hoseok and I still need to put the finishing touches on this one but it's pretty catchy—"
Namjoon cuts you off with a sharp no, it was too upbeat for his Mic Drop performance. Said he needed something with grit, something that would make the judges feel something.
"Let me see that." He gestures for you to get up, slumping down into the chair you occupied and slotting himself beneath the studio desk to scroll through the open folder on the computer screen.
He skims through countless tracks, demoed and ready to be recorded at Namjoon's disposal — you were something of a writing machine, always scribbling down lyrics on receipts from the store or on the back of your hand and paired with Hoseok you were a dream team; he always seemed to find a beat that fit perfectly. Unfortunately Namjoon's straight face gives away his disinterest in any of them.
"None of these will work." Namjoon throws the keyboard down with a force that makes you wince, jaw tightening as he presses his knuckles to his eyes in frustration. "I'm going to fucking lose."
You are about to tell him to write the fucking track himself like everyone else if none of yours were good enough for him but Jimin flashes you a glance. Don't make things worse.
You settle instead for a hand on his shoulder. He tenses at your touch. It had been a while since you'd been in the same room for longer than ten minutes and when you take in the gauntness of his cheekbones you briefly wonder if he's been eating properly. He always did forget when you weren't around to remind him.
You suck in a breath to give you strength. "There must be one that you like."
His lips purse and he disgruntledly goes back to scrolling again, clicking on a couple titles that draw his interest. You and Jimin let out simultaneous sighs of relief.
"What's this?" Namjoon's eyes narrow as he presses play on a track that sends you flying forward, heart in your mouth and colour leaving your face as a song plays that you swore to never show to anyone.
Yoongi's song. The one you wrote after that night in his studio. Probably the best song you had ever written.
"That's not — I was supposed to delete that one." The heat in your cheeks as you push him aside roughly to wrestle with the pause button has you hiding behind your hair, as if he would somehow know this wasn't just an ordinary song. That it was a song about his enemy, for god's sake.
Namjoon's slaps you away from the computer, head bobbing to the beat and you fall back into your seat in defeat, fingers crossed behind your back that he would hate it as much as the others.
"I love it."
Oh no.
"This is the one!"
Shit shit shit!
"A-are you sure?" You're rambling now, words slipping out way too fast and Jimin seems puzzled at your lack of elation at Namjoon's decisiveness. "I'm sure I could write something much better if you just give me some more time—"
Namjoon's arms pull you into a tight embrace before you can finish, your nose ending up smushed against his chest as he practically vibrates with excitement. Your body goes stiff, hands dangling at your sides awkwardly. Considering Namjoon's coldness towards you as of late his sudden display of affection takes you by surprise. Mostly because despite your physical closeness it only makes you feel even more distant from your brother.
A sigh of relief escapes when he finally sets you free, only to be replaced with pure horror as you watch him stick a USB drive into the computer and load up the song before sliding it in his back pocket with a grin while you have no choice but to stand there helplessly.
"I'm totally gonna win!" His change in attitude is abrupt but seems to soothe Jimin who nods enthusiastically. You feel sick. "I can't wait to see the look on Yoongi's face when he hears this shit."
The smirk on his face washes you with dread. If only he knew.
Yoongi was right. Secrets always find a way to come and bite you in the ass.
--
Every rap of your knuckles against the run down studio door seems to echo ominously through the alley like an omen.
"Y/N?"
As soon as the bolt wrangles across and the wooden panel flies open to reveal a disgruntled Yoongi, a warmth seems to thaw through the icy evening chill that, along with your nerves, is making your knees knock together.
His chest is warm against your cheek when he pulls you into his arms, the smell of cologne and black coffee consuming your senses. It's enough to make your tense limbs fall slack, curling into his firm frame instinctively. Finally. You can breathe again.
"Hey." He mumbles sweetly against your temple, a trace of a smile in his voice like he was happy to see you. You silently wonder if he'll still be so happy once he hears what you have to say.
The studio is basked in darkness, the contours of his face barely visible in the blue glow emanating from his desktop monitor. There's a dent in the cushion of the adjacent chair, Yoongi's hair sticking up at the back where the pair of headphones slung around his neck had sat moments ago.
"I can go if you were working, wouldn't want to interrupt." As the words are leaving your lips you cross your fingers, selfishly hopeful that he would send you away and you could avoid the conversation that was about to follow. Blame it all on circumstance, leave saying that you at least tried.
But that would be keeping a secret. It would make you just as bad as the rest. And the thought of him finding out from someone else was enough to make your palms sweat and enough to keep your feet planted against the carpet determinedly.
Yoongi's hands find you like he can't bare to keep them away, dragging you across the threshold without hesitation. "S'fine. Work better with you here anyway." He smiles and you try to return it but your lips are pressed into a permanent line, like they're scared the daunting words you have to say will come spilling out before you were ready -- if you ever would be ready. As you slump into a chair and watch him wheel another one around to face you with his arms slung lazily over the back, you realise there is no going back.
Considering the countdown to Mic Drop was nearing its end, less than twenty four hours to go before Yoongi would be stood opposite Namjoon on stage in front of thousands, he looked the epitome of relaxation, unlike the nerves in your chest making you jitter.
"Jin's on his way with takeout, I would've asked him to get more if I knew you were coming but I'm sure we can share— babe, are you alright?"
Babe. The endearment had started slipping from his lips frequently recently. At first he tried to cover it up with nervous laughter but now he was brazen, enjoying the way the word tasted on his tongue. It would be so easy to force a smile, to push "the right thing" to the back of your mind and let the selfish part of your heart accept his affections, even knowing you're about to hurt him.
But the clock ticking away on the wall sounds deafening with every beat of silence that follows, twisting the rings on your fingers until you could no longer distinguish the sound from the sinister thrum of your heart.
You can't hold it in any more.
"I need to tell you something." It comes out a hoarse whisper, nearly unintelligible beneath the stream of hip hop from the hifi system in the corner.
"What is it?" Yoongi's concerned eyes never leave you as he reaches over to switch it off, the room now draped in a shroud of quiet. The reality of the situation seeps into every dark corner and right into your bones.
"It's about us. Kind of."
Yoongi rolls closer, stopping your teeth from nibbling your cuticles by slotting his fingers between yours like a perfect puzzle piece. It seems to ground you, like you're filled with helium and he's the weight stopping your feet from floating off the ground. For a second you think everything will be okay. Nothing, not even this betrayal, could come between what you had.
"Did Namjoon find out?" Even in the dim light you see the panic stricken raise of his brows. When your head shakes in a violent negative they smooth back down, relieved, as if nothing you could say next would be worse than that. No matter how hard you try to meet his eyes you can't.
His hand squeezes gently then. You muster up the courage to squeeze back. Perhaps it would soften the blow that was about to follow.
"His song. The one I wrote for Mic Drop...it's about you. I thought you should know. Before you hear it for yourself."
Nothing but an immeasurable silence followed. "Oh."
Yoongi is unreadable, almost as if he didn't hear the words hanging like heavy storm clouds over your heads. You expected him to be angry, to shout -- even cry, maybe. Not knowing how he was feeling was even worse than any scenario you had imagined. Made you feel like you were back to square one and he was shutting you out of the window into his soul you'd worked so hard to wriggle through.
For a second you think the sudden cold against your palm is a result of the numbness coursing through your veins like you were dunked in ice water, but then you see his hand retreat to his lap, eyes wide and staring at it in disbelief like he'd been scalded.
"I...I don't understand." He sounds choked, face contorting with pain. Like it does when he wakes thrashing in the night with a bad dream. Unlike those times though, he doesn't levitate towards you for comfort, just stares at you vacantly like he's far, far away despite being physically close enough for your knees to brush.
"It was written after the first time we...y'know...here--" You glance around, convinced your mind is playing tricks when you see a vision of you in Yoongi's lap across the room, lips attached like nothing else in the world mattered. It feels far away and out of reach when the real Yoongi gets to his feet, creating a distance between you that is foreign, his form staggering across the room so that you could see the way his back tensed beneath his t-shirt when he grips the edge of his desk for support, processing.
"I don't understand."
"I was emotional. It just happened--"
"No. What I don't understand is why you're letting him perform it?" Fists send a stack of sheet music flying to the ground. His lip trembles, face red, with anger or affliction, you can't tell which.
"Yoongi--" You reach for him, fingertips barely grazing his arm before he's smacking you away with a violent shake of his head. He'd never resisted you before. Not even in the beginning.
"You expect me to just sit back and listen to Namjoon of all people rapping the lyrics my girlfr-- that you wrote dissing me? This has to be a fucking joke."
"It's not that kind of track!" You hug your body pitifully. It's the only thing you can do to stop yourself from falling apart as his mouth spits a venom that makes your heart shatter. His eyes fill with one thing. Betrayal. "I'm sorry. I just...I can't keep choosing between you anymore, Yoongi. He's my brother."
"And what am I, huh?"
Every second that passes, every stutter or attempt at explanation that leaves your mouth makes Yoongi crumple. You see it in the way his adam's apple bobs, how his shoulders slacken.
For some reason you can't open up. Tell him he means more to you than anyone ever had. That you thought your heart might really break and bleed out on the carpet if he didn't feel the same way.
Instead you settle for, "Why are you so mad? It's my job! I had no choice."
Without warning he's rushing at you, trembling palms capturing your face and pressing his forehead to yours. His breaths shake, chest heaving as he battles internally with the words flying from his lips like a ghostly breath across yours.
"Because I fucking love you, Y/N! Can't you see it? I fucking love you and your bastard of a brother always finds a way to ruin things between us!"
His admission stuns you, the tears welling in your eyes spilling over in a silent stream down your cheeks.
He loves you. He loves you.
"Yoongi--" Words just won't come. Nothing feels right.
Because you love him too. It had taken you this long to admit it to yourself but it was clear now. Every breath, every beat of your heart, every fucking song you would ever write was for him. It scared you before but now, stood here in front of him, you know it's true.
Something hopeless niggles at the back of your head, stops you from spilling everything to him. If he loves you, how can he expect you to choose?
If words couldn't make him see the truth then you'd just have to show him the only way you knew how. Straight from your heart.
You're crying as you dig around in the bottom of your bag to retrieve a USB, pressing it into his curled fist firmly and begging him with your eyes to understand. "Just listen to the song. Please. It'll explain everything. I promise."
You begin to back up and his hand shoots out to stop you, pulling you roughly into his chest which only makes you cry harder, tears creating a wet patch on his T-shirt.
"Please don't leave me. Not again." It's a fragile whisper.
It's all too much.
"I can't choose any longer, Yoongi. This has to end."
With one last look at his crumpled face you flee from his studio with eyes just as watery as the first time you'd walked down this very alley. Except this time it takes all of your strength to resist running back into his arms.
Yoongi can only stand there and watch you go, the USB hot against his hand.
This has to end. The words make his chest burn and he hates it. Hates feeling weak. You always make him feel so fucking weak.
If he can't have you then he had no choice but to do everything in his power to make sure he got the next best thing.
Suddenly it all seemed clear. Yoongi knew what he had to do.
--
The arena is almost desolate when you creep inside.
Just a sea of empty seats stretching out from both sides of you where you sit in one of the stands, nibbling the skin around your thumb and watching Namjoon pace the stage below.
It's gone midnight by now. Most of the crew went home hours ago. Not Namjoon though. He stayed to practice some more. Said he couldn't get the choreography quite right.
You tried going home but you couldn't get the fight out of your head. Everything reminded you of Yoongi and your thoughts started to wander. Did he hate you? Was he listening to the song right now? Why hasn't he called? Why is your own bed not as comfy as the one you shared with Yoongi?
It all got too much eventually. Something told you that you weren't welcome at the apartment so you ended up heading towards the only other place you knew, surprised to find your brother had the same idea.
A single spotlight illuminates the stage as Namjoon twists his body in time with the one, two, three, four he unconsciously mumbles under his breath, face contorted with a stark concentration that flits to impatience when his foot slips and he misses the beat. Again. It just about sends him over the edge.
"I can't do this anymore!" A microphone squeals and hits the ground with a thump. It reverberates through the arena, your hands flying to your ears as you watch Namjoon let loose all his anger on an innocent amp stand before collapsing into a heap at the edge of the stage. "Fuck this shit!"
You're flying down the stairs to his aid before he can do any serious damage to the stage equipment — or worse, to himself.
Namjoon scoffs when he hears the stage creak under your feet. "Nice of you to show up."
It stings. You snap.
"What happened to you, Namjoon?" You look at his sunken cheekbones, his curled fists, the blackness behind his eyes. "I don't even recognise you anymore."
He just sniffs and says nothing. The distance between you feels bigger than ever.
"Can I tell you a secret?"
A secret? Since when did Namjoon abide by a policy of honesty?
He takes your shocked silence as a yes.
"I'm calling first thing and dropping out of the competition."
Your world stutters to a standstill, breath knocked out of your lungs.
Dropping out?
"Shit Joon...if this is about Yoongi—"
He waves you off.  "No. This is about me."
You can't breathe. This can't be real. "I don't understand..."
"I've made up my mind. I can't do this any more. I used to love being up here you know?"
You follow his gaze, out over the empty arena. The last time you were here every seat was filled. You were down there, part of the crowd, packed into the cramped space with barely enough room to breathe.
Imagining how it must feel to be up here comes easy. If you close your eyes you can hear the screams, feel the body heat. Smell the sweat and the anticipation. See thousand faces looking up in awe. At you. It makes your blood run hot.
You much prefer being up here, you decide.
Namjoon brings you back down. "Now it just feels like a chore. I look out and all I see is disappointed faces. I can't pretend for them anymore."
"People travel miles to see you Joon! No one is disappointed."
"Not the fans. They love me. Well, Runch Randa, at least." He cracks a half smile. "It's me whose disappointed. In Kim Namjoon."
You always thought your brother was sure of himself. He's cocky, confident and above all fearless. It's his biggest strength (and his most irritating quality sometimes) but it's what you always admired most about him.
Clearly you didn't know your brother as well as you thought you did.
You bite your lip. "Why?"
He turns to face you, leaning back into his arms while he searches for the right words and, little to your knowledge, gathers the courage to confide in you.
"Because I re-entered Mic Drop for all the wrong reasons. I just wanted to prove myself, you know? Win for real this time, not just by default." He swallows. "But then I saw Yoongi perform. And to be honest? I saw you. I saw how much you care about the music. How you come alive when you're writing lyrics or when you're in the studio." His smile is woeful. "Im supposed to feel like that. But I don't. I never did. It's like I'm always asleep, y'know?"
You did know. Every time you lifted a camera. Every time you pressed the shutter and snapped another shot of Namjoon on stage you felt your soul grow exhausted.
It makes the distance between you and Namjoon close a little. For once you understand each other and you don't have to hide how you feel any more.
"I can't stop thinking that it's your name the fans should be screaming. Not mine. They deserve better than me."
"But you're the best performer I know!" You rush. It always seemed like he wanted to keep you out of the spotlight at all costs. "Why now?"
He lets out a deep sigh. "I'm a selfish person, Y/N. I thought I was protecting you from... all this." He gestures around him. "The late nights and the paparazzi and the criticism and a fucking manager on your back all the time." His eye roll makes you snort, sharing a brief smile at the image of hardworking Jimin mumbling into his headset like a man posessed.
He's quickly serious again though. "Fame comes with a price. But I realize now that the price is worth it if your hearts in the right place and...what I'm trying to say, Y/N, is that mine never was."
You let your chin fall into your palm. Huh. "So that's the big secret?"
"Actually...there's something else." He shifts nervously. "I know about you and Yoongi."
You freeze, scrambling to your knees with wide eyes. "Wait, Joon, let me explain—"
"Let me finish!" Namjoon brushes you off with a breathless laugh, nodding to himself, as if finally coming to a solid conclusion about coming clean when his eyes meet yours. "He's in love with you."
This time it feels like the whole world goes into overdrive. You forget how to breathe.
"What...how...huh?"
It's Namjoon's palm squeezing your knee reassuringly that brings you back down.
"He always was. Even back before things got messed up." A deep breath. Something was coming, you could tell by the way his eye twitched nervously. "That's why me and Yoongi fought. That's why I...I lied and said that I wrote the song the night of the Mic Drop final...accused him of plagiarism—" Your mouth gapes. "I know! I know. Don't look at me like that. I can see the irony."
It all makes sense now. She's a part of this, Namjoon, whether you like it or not.
The reason Namjoon sacrificed his best friend wasn't for fame but for your sake?
You want to fly at your brother, scream at him for keeping this from you for so long. For turning you against Yoongi. For keeping you from the only person to make you feel safe. Feel Happy.
But his eyes are void of anything other than regret and you can tell his betrayal had been playing on his mind all these years.
"Point is, I didn't want you to get hurt." He shuffles awkwardly, not knowing what to do with your silence. "That's not an excuse, I know. Do you hate me?"
"No." Your voice sounds small. His chest heaves with relief. "I just wish you had been honest with me before. Saved us a ton of trouble."
"I thought I was doing the right thing. But I was a shitty brother in the end anyway."
It's strange. Even after all the fights and the resentment and the goddamn secrets, you don't think Namjoon is a shitty brother. Sure, his actions and intentions were shitty there was no denying it. But now it's like the puzzle pieces finally click into place and the full photograph comes into view, crystal clear.
All this time, he just wanted to protect you, when you should have been protecting him. He was hurting too, you just never knew it.
"It's not too late, Joon. Just be happy for me okay? I think..." If Namjoon plucked up the courage to tell you his secrets then it was only fair that you did too. "I love him too."
A pinkish tinge caresses your face when you finally admit it, both out loud and to yourself.
You love Yoongi. And now all the cards are on the table there's nothing holding you back from it.
Now you just need to tell Yoongi.
"I know. You think I don't know who that song is about?" The grin that spreads across Namjoon's features is sincere."And I am. Happy for you, I mean."
Now the truth is out in the open it feels like your wounds are already beginning to heal. You place your hand over his and squeeze it tight. It was time to forgive.
A thought suddenly strikes you. "So what are you gonna do now?
Namjoon fumbles in the back pocket of his jeans, thrusting something towards you. A polaroid picture. The same photo you'd seen at Yoongi's studio.
He kept it, too?
"This kid." His finger jabs at the innocent face of a younger Namjoon, arm wrapped around the shoulders of his best friend. "I didn't get enough time to live as him before I became Runch Randa. I think it's time to just live as Namjoon for a while."
"But what about Big Hit? It'll fall apart and mom and dad will kill you—"
"No it won't. They have you. I already talked to them, in fact. There's a stage with your name on it right here." He pats the ground. "If you want it, that is."
You blink, stunned. You? "I...I don't know if I can."
"I believe in you." Namjoon says. "And I'll be cheering you on from the front row."
You'd have to think about it long and hard but you can't help the grin that appears on your face. Things were going to be okay.
An urge rises in your chest to tell Yoongi this news. To see the way his face would light up as you started the journey to following your own dreams, like he always said you should.
You and Yoongi were going to be okay.
"Hey! Maybe I should try photography now I have some free time." Namjoon tugs at the camera strap around your neck, lifting his eye to the viewfinder and laughing when you cover the lens with your hands. "Damn I'm kinda good!"
You bump his shoulder teasingly, the belly laughter that spills into the arena feeling like the most natural thing in the world.
You're only interrupted by approaching footsteps. Jimin bursts into the arena.
"Namjoon," he pants. "I have some bad news."
--
It's compulsory for all competitors to attend the crowning ceremony. Even those who get disqualified.
RUNCH RANDA BLACKLISTED FROM COMPETING IN FUTURE HIP HOP COMPETITIONS AFTER PLAGIARISM SCANDAL SURFACES.
Just one of the devastating headlines that hit the media after the judges panel received an anonymous tip in the form of a USB stick that exposed Namjoon once and for all. The same USB that you pressed into Yoongi's hands just hours before Namjoon's disqualification.
RAPPER GLOSS TO SNATCH MIC DROP TROPHY IN SHOCKING REVENGE FOR HIS BRUTAL DEFEAT.
Namjoon reads it aloud in the back of the car. He laughs at the end but it does nothing to lighten the mood.
The windows are tinted but you can still see the hoards of fans lining the streets, eyes steeped in betrayal.
You should hear the way they boo as your brother drives past. You should hear the way they chant his name instead.
Yoongi! Yoongi! Yoongi!
But you don't. You don't hear anything. You don't feel anything. All you can think of is the same three words, throbbing in your chest over and over again.
I love you.
Did he mean them at all?
"Y/N? Did you hear me?"
"Hm?" You look up. Namjoon's staring at you with concern.
"Your phone's ringing again."
It's no surprise when you pull out your phone and see a contact picture of yourself and Yoongi gracing the screen. He's been calling all morning. It takes every strength inside you to tap the red decline button.
"Aren't you gonna talk to him?"
Another call lights up the screen.
"Not like this."
With trembling fingers you shut your phone off all together.
--
Paparazzi cameras flash brazenly as you step out of the black company car, following Namjoon with your hood pulled tightly round your face. A hoard of body guards usher you through a back door to the arena. The main entrance is reserved for notable guests only, you learn.
While Namjoon's presence usually makes the room buzz with an electric energy, there's no excitement when he enters now. An awkward hush falls like a shroud as he elbows his way past pitiful stares. It's like someone died. In a way it's true; there's no trace of Runch Randa in Namjoon's hunched stance. Here, the dead still walks for everyone to see.
Jimin's waiting by the stage door. No words are exchanged as he slips passes into your hands. Namjoon's has a big red strike through the word TALENT, "guest" scribbled all too generously below it to match your own.
It's nearing show time. They're just waiting for you to take your seats, Jimin says, though you barely hear him. You're too busy imagining what you would do if you bumped into him right now, heart pounding whenever you catch a glimpse of blue or hear a laugh you're convinced you recognise.
Deep down you know exactly where you have to go to find him. To find Yoongi.
"I'll join you in a second, okay?"
Namjoon looks nervous, the first time you've ever seen him with such a severe case of the jitters. His smile is empty when you rub his forearm reassuringly. "Don't be too long. If I'm gonna do this I want you by my side."
You manage a smile. "Always."
With that, Namjoon takes a deep breath and pushes out into the life of the arena and you find your feet numbly carrying you down back corridors you know by heart until you reach his dressing room.
Your heart is blind, you think. Even now the shattered fragments ache for him, beat a little faster knowing he's just behind this door.
Why can't you go back to hating him, just like you did before? Deep down you know it's because you never really hated Yoongi. You don't think you ever could.
Forgiving him, though? Some wounds never heal, no matter how badly you want them to.
You pause outside the door. The stupid gold star that used to be there has been scraped off, replaced with a new name tag. Gloss. You put your ear to the wood. Nothing.
A deep breath and you find the handle. Should you burst in and give him a piece of your mind? Knock and enter politely? You can't help but scoff. Shouldn't he be the one coming to find you?
He calls your name before you can do either.
"Y/N?"
Fuck. Is hearing his voice supposed to hurt this bad?
You don't know what you're expecting when you turn around. Something different about him perhaps. A sign that he isn't the person you had grown to know. Grown to love.
But there he is. All messy blue hair and bitten lips and eyes a little red around the edges. Your Yoongi.
Your arms curl around your body like a band aid, holding you together. You can't crumble. Not now.
He looks stony but his eyes flicker with tender remorse when he sees the tears staining your cheeks.
His hands reach for you instinctively. The same hands that make love to his piano in the shitty apartment above the coffee shop. The same hands that could make you fall apart with even a delicate touch. You want to run into them so bad it hurts. But now they're stained red with betrayal and he chokes when you recoil.
Seconds feel like hours as you just stand there taking each other in like it's been years. It's only been a day or two. Maybe three? You can't remember. They all rolled into one meaningless blur of angry tears and insomnia.
You had a whole speech prepared for the moment you finally faced him again. But there are no words that feel right. You just need to know. If he meant every touch and every inside joke and those three words that make your heart soar despite how badly you want to hate him. And there's only one way to find out.
"Why did you do it?"
Your voice sounds timid and scared, like you feel. He winces.
"Y/N, let me explain—"
"Explain what?" Your voice raises shakily."How you lied to me? How you used me?"
He rushes towards you and it takes all of your strength to draw back, especially when his eyes look so frantic, so desperate. Like he's having one of his nightmares. It tugs at your heart because this time the nightmare is real and you're living in it.
"It's not like that—"
"Did you ever even want me? What about all that fair and square bullshit you told me huh?"
"Of course I wanted you Y/N...want you." His eyes fill with pain. "This wasn't meant to happen. I know how this looks but I just panicked!"
You rush at him, fists curled like that day in his studio except this time he doesn't stop you when you start hitting his chest, vision blurry.
"He was going to pull out! Namjoon was going to let you win! So that I could -- we could be happy!"
"What I...I don't understand?" His mouth gapes, processing. "But you didn't..." He swallows, like remembering is painful. "When I confessed, you didn't say it back. I thought we were over! I thought I had nothing to lose, Y/N. He had already won..."
You remember your words. I can't do this anymore. A misunderstanding that would never have happened if he just—
"Did you even listen to the song?"
His face drops at the mention of the song. "No." He looks like he might cry. "I was angry! I...I acted impulsively. I never got the chance..."
You bared your soul in that song in ways you never thought you could. He wasn't supposed to find out how you felt about him this way. Not here, when you're falling apart and there's nothing you can do to stop it. But it all comes tumbling out before you can change your mind.
"I wrote that song because I love you, Yoongi!"
Silence. He has to grip the wall to steady himself.
"Y-you love me?"
"I love you." The words feel indulgent on your tongue and even now as they hang heavy in the air and you're overcome with an indescribable combination of grief and longing, you mean them with every bone in your body.
You rush at him. You can't help it. Can't resist how your head falls into his chest and how you cry harder when you breathe in his scent one last time, sobs muffled by his hoodie. But he hears them, you know he does, because his hands are trembling when they pull you closer like you're fragile enough to break.
"I love you. So fucking much it hurts, Yoongi."
You're weak. You're so so weak.
You don't know why you do it but you grab his face with both hands and then you're kissing him. Showing him how much you need him, how much you mean your words. His hand cups your jaw like always and his lips press back with a tender desperation and you believe him. You believe that he loves you. Whole and true. Because in that moment, with his lips on yours, everything is okay. He's your Yoongi and you're his Y/N and he loves you.
But then you pull back and he's crying too and everything's broken and your heart goes numb.
"I'm sorry. God, Y/N I'm so sorry. If I could take it back I promise I would."
You muster up all the strength you can. You know what you have to do.
"I'm giving you a choice, Yoongi. You go out on that stage and pick up that trophy and we're over. For real."
He tries to kiss you again, grabbing at you frantically when you turn your cheek.
"Y/N, don't do this. We love each other. That's all that matters right?" He musters up the closest thing to a smile he can manage, like he's convincing himself more than he is you. "You don't have to—"
"No." You pull away from grip. It feels cold and wrong. "I have to do this. If you love me like you say you'll...you'll understand."
You turn but he grabs your wrist, pins you in place.
"I can't lose you to him again, Y/N. I...I already lost you once and I don't think I..."
The hard faced Min Yoongi you once knew is gone. All that's left is the vulnerable man in front of you who holds your heart in your hands with a grip so tight it scares you.
"He can't win...please."
You suck in a final breath.
"Please what? Don't make you choose between me and that stupid fucking trophy? You did this to yourself, Yoongi." You turn and this time he lets you. "The only person pushing me away is you."
"Y/N please, wait!"
You don't dare turn to look at him as you walk away. Not even when he pleads or you hear him fall to his knees, a strangled sob echoing down the hall. You're scared you might run back to him if you do.
You don't let yourself break down until you turn the corner. Yoongi doesn't follow.
--
"I'm okay." You assure Namjoon as you take a seat beside him inside the arena. It's a lie, of course. No amount of cold water splashed on your face in the bathroom could prepare you for this moment.
You're just in time. The ceremony is already starting. The host is taking the stage and the lights are dimming but you're too numb to care.
You go out on that stage and pick up that trophy and we're over.
Your decision is final. There's no going back. You've cried all your tears. You've said all that needed to be said. All you're left with now is a sickly feeling in your stomach as you look down at the trophy sat in a display case center stage.
We love each other. A slither of hope tugs at your heart strings. You barely manage to suppress it.
"Sorry! Excuse me!" The empty seat to your left sinks under the weight of Hoseok as he clumsily stumbles into the arena, late as always.
He offers you a smile which turns to a frown when you only stare past him vacantly, straining your neck to keep an eye on the stage.
A hand covers yours. You freeze at the contact, only relaxing when you peer through the darkness to find Hoseok staring at you gently. His voice is a whisper. "Whatever happens I'm here for you, okay?"
A wave of emotion crashes through you and you think you might cry again. You can't make your lips sound out a response but Hoseok understands and you feel a little stronger when you turn your attention back to the ceremony knowing you have someone by your side.
"As you all know there have been some...complications with this year's finalists." The host coughs and fiddles with his tie awkwardly. "But we are glad to announce that we do in fact have a winner here with us today!"
The crowd chants Yoongi's name again. Namjoon stiffens. Your free hand grabs his and he squeezes it tight.
"So without further ado, I would like to welcome this year's winner, Gloss!"
The crowd goes wild but the sound is drowned out by a ringing in your ears. It's like you're underwater, holding your breath as you wait and wait for him to take the stage and all the oxygen to slip away.
One...two...three...
You get to ten seconds, then twenty seconds and then thirty and by the time you get to forty you feel yourself break the surface, take a heaving breath.
You're floating. He chose you.
He loves you! Yoongi loves you! He—
No.
You're seeing things. You must be. That can't be Yoongi's face lighting up every screen in the room. That can't be him crossing the stage and taking the trophy from the hands of the host with a smug grin. That can't be Yoongi holding it up in the air like a martyr.
That can't be your Yoongi. This is a stranger.
You crash back to reality when Namjoon wraps his arms around your waist and you realise your sobbing. Sobbing so hard it hurts your chest and your lungs burn with misuse and you're sure the tears will never stop.
"It's okay! Shh."
Nothing is okay. Nothing.
Yoongi's face is still blown up on the big screens in painful detail. The smile on his face falters when he looks out into the crowd and spots you instantly. Sees you crumple.
There are two things Min Yoongi ever loved in this world.
His music and you.
The trophy feels cold in his hands. The crowd gasps as he rushes to the edge of the stage and calls out to you.
"Y/N wait! I'm sorry—"
You hear his voice through the speakers but it's too late. You're already running.
Yoongi's mic drops to the ground.
--
Yoongi's nightmares are back. Except this time they're different.
When he closes his eyes you're there. Smiling and laughing like you used to. His heart warms and he reaches for you...
And then he realises it's not you. Just a picture, blown up on the big screen as you cross the stage at the front of the room he's suddenly aware he's in.
He glances around at the indistinguishable people around him, all smiling and clapping ferociously. Why isn't he happy?
The bottle in his hand is half empty. He's realises he's screaming. So hard his throat burns and his lungs beg for air but you don't even look his way. He screams your name, over and over again. Nobody seems to hear him.
Namjoon's there too. Bouncing a baby on his knee, maybe one or two years old if he has to guess.
"That'll be you one day," He whispers, but its deafening to Yoongi. "Only the very best for my niece." The baby giggles up at him, stubby fingers wrapped around his thumb.
She has your eyes. The very same eyes Yoongi would look into like they held everything in the world. The very same eyes Yoongi saw fill with pain on the last day he saw you before things got messed up.
She has Hoseok's nose. And his mouth, too, small and heart shaped. The resemblance is uncanny as Hoseok appears beside Namjoon, takes the baby girl into his arms and places a sweet kiss on her forehead.
Then there you are. The same old Y/N. The same smile that makes your eyes crinkle and the same laughter than makes his heart melt. The same girl who used to love him.
Though it's clear that that much is no longer true. Not when you lean up to kiss Hoseok on the cheek, Namjoon drawing you into a hug when you present the trophy in your hands to them with an elated laugh.
A family.
It feels like he's been punched in the stomach.
Yoongi always thought winning Mic Drop would mean he had everything. Fame. Money. Glory.
He didn't need family. He always got by on his own.
It took holding the whole world in the palm of his hand to realise none of it meant anything if he didn't have you by his side.
You were his everything. But he was too stupid to see it and he let you slip away.
It's too late now.
A hand appears on his shoulder. It's cold, grip bruising. The voice that comes next gives him chills every single time.
"So was it worth it?" Namjoon asks.
Yoongi tries to answer but his vision is blurred with hot tears now and he's on his hands and knees and he's screaming.
And when he wakes up at ass o clock, sweaty and gasping for air, he still finds himself reaching for your warmth beside him.
But all his fingers find are cold sheets and bitterness.
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extended a/n: okay so if you have reached this far then you are a TROOPER. a trooper who i love and appreciate endlessly for reading 30k of my waffle lmao im so sorry <3 ksksksk so this fic has been in my head for the longest time and in my drafts for almost five months so im super attached to it and putting this out is like the scariest ever?? i really put my heart into this piece, like y’all don’t understand how many times it’s cropped up in my dreams and I’ve woken up like MUST WRITE. it’s far from perfect but i tried my best!! i can’t tell you how many scenes had to be rewritten until i was happy enough with them bc this fic is literally my baby in every sense of the word and i wanted to get it right :( although that just made the ending even more SOUL DESTROYING to write for me ugh i had the ending set in my mind before i even started writing but there were moments where i jus wanted yoongi and oc to be happy ever after :( but alas, I feel like this ending was far more realistic for them and i couldn’t go against my gut sigh. there may be a few drabbles planned in the future tho to make up for the angst :) Anyway!!! I’ll stop rambling. Thank you for reading this far, if anyone has. TROOPER. love you <3
updated 12/01/19: drabble #1 | drabble #2 | drabble #3 
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miaxeu · 3 years
Text
      though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, MIA STOEGER is actually a descendent of DIONYSUS. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-ONE year old MYTHOLOGICAL STUDIES MAJOR from LOS ANGELES, USA has taken after HER godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite CHARISMATIC & DUPLICITOUS. 
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( y’all dont deserve this real messy intro but im workin w half a bwain cell at 4am so i beg thee 4 mercy. nywyy im the excited new girl who’s hella pumped to meet all ur charas : katya ! feel free to hop in my ims to plot or drop a like and i’ll hop in urs ! x  )
POWERS
natural acting abilities — her ma’s a hollywoo agent so she started actin real early & now shes a big shot actress. there r more deetz on her career below !
chlorokinesis — it wasnt as natural as acting n she only started working on it when she turned 13 n started going to camps. b4 she just noticed shes good w plants but it wasnt super crazy or nything. its p good now tho ! shes prioritizing vine binding and manipulation 4 the self defense bc awards r cool n all but they dont rlly protecc from monsters ykwim 
levitation — shes trying her best ur honor
alcokinesis  — she cant conjure it or anything, she’s just immune to it ffff
BIO POINTS — cw: drug use ( full biography here )
her mom raised her by herself bc dionysus the party god was out of the picture immediately. she never told mia she’s a demigod & it was always just “ wow ur so talented ” or “ aww u got a green thumb ! ” but when she saw him claim 13 y/o mia by placing a weird hologram over her head while she slept, she knew she had to spill da beanz & tell her kid
ofc mia thought her mom was jus playing sum weird acting exercise w her bc her powers r so lowkey she could highkey just be a Mortal but insert sad whistle, the realizashun & the claiming meant heightened monster threat !! so yea ,,, one ended up chasing her a couple days later rip 
aside from the trauma, mia was ok. mostly bc she ended up cryin for dionysus like any child would n lo & behold he came & helped !!! as he should. nywy she made sure to go to summer camps every year after that but mostly just for protection purposes
she lowkey rlly hates this whole god business esp now that shes grown lmfao deadass thinks she got a bad deal bc life threats arent sexy !!! went to eonia eventually bc its Too Much Man. she just wants to go back to work and her life w the mortals w/o worryin for her life. would deadass fade her father if she could. may or may not be majoring in greek mythology to figure out the logistics of it all out of spite, who knows !
PERSONALITY
not ! a Drama Queen  —  dont get me wrong, shes hella Extra in the way she moves n acts sorta like shes always bein captured on film. is quick-witted & playful & can be a huge tease/flirt if she feels like it, but miss her w Real Feelings ! totally not sentimental. srsly she will try to rationalize away everything and is just,.,., not good w it. so soz folks, we just keepin it breezy here
ugh, she’s an Actress — aka she can act like she cares tho ! shes very much into keeping ppl on her good side. shes friendly n palatable to everyone bc its how shes been trained & while it doesnt seem fake, its def diff when its genuine
The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known —  lemme circle back to the first one, ok so shes good w emotions but only in theory. does intense character work with her roles so she thinks that counts as her having eq when rlly shes just emotionally stunted, projecting n repressing like an idiot
blonde, skinny, rich, & a lil bit of a Bitch — shes only a bitch inwardly or to ppl she trusts enuff to let in on the gossip. if anyone full on opposes her or becomes real emotional, then this lil diva will rear its superiority complex head n snap a lil. will most probably do it v underhandedly n w a smile but it will be Brutal
girls just wanna have FUN ! — shes the child of da party god, so ofc she a true party girl. officially off the rails when she parties. inhibitions ? we dk her. can be insensitive in that case bc smtms its truly no strings attached, tis all abt the fun. likes company a lot & it doesnt even have 2 be loud or particularly abt her, she just likes having people around n the escapism of it all. will make friends with everyone n make sure they have a jolly fun time guaranteed at dionysus parties 
Work Hard, Play Hard — real responsible when it comes to work and commitments and if she trusts/likes u enough, she’ll give it 2 u straight, no bs. def thinks Calling Out is an act of love but maybe does it a lil too harshly smtms. v much into efficiency, sentiments be damned. not the feely words type. will sit next to u or party w u or even pay 4 ur therapist if u need sum1 to talk to. she will Be There while u work thru it, so long as u dont expect her to change n be all emotional n stuff
if she seems a lil contradictory thats bc she kinda is. tis the good ol nurture vs nature. her ma’s a real no nonsense chick n her pops is a frat guy drama geek greek god whos rlly into cottagecore so u get this lil blonde bitch whos sorta teetering on the edges
OTHER INFO  — cw: drug use ( full headcanons here )
re her career, she achieved pegot status when she was 18 aka she truly b dat bitch. shes not super mainstream famous tho, more like indie sweetheart, film snobs/critics fave typa gal. if ya want a trajectory she started w baby commercials then a sitcom from 4-10 ( think modern fam’s lily ) then it was off to the big screen & the stage ! 
mia has a lil bit of a drug habit. its not abusive or dependent, but it is a staple whenever shes parties bc alcohol is useless 2 her. started a lil young too bc hollywoo. primarily uppers/hallucinogens. she smokes weed a lil more liberally but the rest is mostly just an on occasion thing ( which, ngl, is a still a lil problematic when u party a lot rip )
after she got claimed, mia ended up going to demigod camps in a lot of diff places n countries, depending on where production would take her. there was never an established place, more like wherever was nearest when they wrapped up shooting bc monsters afoot n wutnot  
she was always homeschooled but she still managed to go to a prom and homecoming bc party is life. that makes eonia uni p much her first chance at having a normal educational environment & experience and even then its anything but. still tho this is her moment !!! im lit rally begging her to get a personality that isnt her internally rolling her eyes going “ its not that deep ”
might put up a bio/stats page if im feelin sxc but i wud jus like the records to show that mia stoeger is a bi sxc babe bc me ? write a het ? no grassy ass.
POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS — cw: drug use ( full connections here )
omg danny devito i love ur work ! 
,,, p self explanatory sdkjfs sum1 who loves her work ! it can be lowkey/highkey fangirl to a civil admiration
OR alternatively, y/m can Not Be a fan of her work. they might think the storyline of the projects she takes on r too out of touch n highbrow yada yada yada, but yes, we love to see either of it ! 
summer camp sweetheart !  
someone she met when at camp when they were teens ? doesnt matter in what country/city, but mia was only visiting so it was truly a one summer romance typa thing. bc she was younger, im thinkin 13-17 or w/e she was probably sweeter n a lot more emotional then. was it either’s first puppy love ? first kiss ? first “ relationship ? ” idk, do yk ? truly, so many possibilities. nothin set in stone just hmu bub 
summer camp pals ! 
p much the same as above but make it Platonic
party buddies !
or druggie pals. either way works but she wud luv it if theyre both xoxo
friends w benefits !
most probably ( but not limited to ) sum1 she met at a party skdjhsjk is it exclusive ? is any1 starting to develop feelings ? im down 4 nthing n evrything
alexa play true friend by hannah montana !
give mia her college bestie ! her confidant who knows her feels and can call each other out viciously with no ounce of resentment. we stan the friendships !
omg i love ur skirt !
that is the ugliest effing skirt i've ever seen. lmao basically sum1 mia pretends to like or acts civil w but rlly ,,,, Cannot Stand for w/e rzn   
im p much braindead rn but those are just sum ideas !!! ofc the usual staples like the pals, enemies, wutnots are also v welcome we love to see it. if u also have a wc that u think mia would fit in, id luv to know more ! there are also a couple more detailed ones here, but pls feel free to shoot me a msg n we can get 2 plotting x 
( * wipes brow * how did i type so much n say so little rip. mia is also a completely new muse so pls b patient n if i fuq up from time to time, pretend u do not see >.< nywy thnx 4 readin, sweets ! feel free to hmu here or at discord if ya wanna <3333 )
FULL INFO  ||  EONIA TASKS 
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girlbattled · 4 years
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hola m’angels , i’m min ! twenty-two ( aka gettin old ) , from the gmt timezone ( aka will be awake when everyone’s sleeping ) , and i use she/her mainly but i don’t mind anythin else . if anyone happens to wanna go wild with me over anime, robert pattinson / zoe kravitz as batcat, or riot games dropping way too much shit on us on the 10th anniversary pls hop into my ims or give me a little ping over on discord at 𝖓𝖔𝖊𝖑 𝖒𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓#0252 .
* drum roll pls * i present to you sloane janeway !
underneath the cut is a little bit about my baby gorl. her bio, fun facts, some wanted stuff, etc etc. if you fancy plotting w her it’d be super cool if you liked this or if u came to me, either in my ims or discord ! i’m super down for anything & loan is a total mess so pls throw stuff at me . ♡ ♡ ♡
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trigger warnings     :     abuse,  physical  abuse,  neglect,  destructive  behaviours,  alcohol,  drugs,  sex,  overdose.  if  i’ve  missed  any,  please  forgive  me  and  let  me  know.
the new york janeway’s, you’re sure you’ve heard of them before. cyrus janeway, a stockbroker with far too little time on his hands, flanked by estrella janeway, his personal assistant turned life partner. they gave birth not longer after the wedding of the century to their eldest son, their pride and joy, cole janeway. he was to be the golden child, the heir to the estate... that was, until sloane came along.
from birth, sloane was a vicious departure from her family. she was unplanned, unexpected, perhaps unwanted was a stretch but it certainly wouldn’t have been far off the mark. her birth nearly destroyed the reputation the janeway’s had so carefully cultivated for themselves, nobody could quite believe cyrus and estrella would be so stupid, but along she came regardless. a spanner in the cogs.
for the first few years, sloane didn’t feel the difference between herself and cole. whilst he kept his distance, which she had always assumed was because she was five years younger and a girl, she never believed there to be bad blood. she was dressed up in countless fancy dresses, her golden locks repeatedly brushed and subjected to numerous chemical treatments, and even her skin somewhat speckled with makeup even as a toddler. estrella always seemed like she was trying to make up for something. it didn’t take long for sloane to notice.
she began acting out at the age of six, when she realised acting the pretty and perfect princess did not get her what she wanted. when she was quiet, she was ignored, but when she was loud? at least the help scurried to her, at least her nanny cradled her in her arms, at least cole’s personal butler gave her a look full of love rather than scorn. it wasn’t long before she was hanging out in the kitchen rather than the dining hall, the quarters rather than her own room.
as she grew older, however, her acts grew. countless times her mother woke to find her dressing room trashed, her father’s hunting trophies ripped to shreds, her brother’s endless awards from school all in the garbage. they tried to discipline her, cyrus even hit sloane a few times, but all it did was make her angry. instilled a fire within her. when they locked her doors, she climbed out of the window. when they barred her windows, she broke the door into splinters. when they replaced the door, she ripped up the floorboards. sloane was a loose cannon. and things were only about to get worse.
for the most part, she’d kept her nuisances to the confines of her “home”, only wishing to get back at her parents for neglecting her for so long. only one night, when she was fourteen years old and had finished her latest act of malcontent, it was cole who chose to deal with her. he, as a nineteen year old male who’d grown a considerable amount of bulk as star of his college football team, proceeded to beat the shit out of her. 
turns out, the brother she thought had simply never been on her wavelength had never been on the same planet as her at all. he despised sloane. despised everything she was and stood for, and made sure she knew as she was spitting up blood on their pristine carpets. 
the next day, sloane strolled into school. no makeup. joint hanging from her lips. typical upper class attire replaced with torn jeans and a shirt far too inappropriate. when people asked her what had happened, she had simply replied, ‘ you should see the other guy. ’ and birthed a new persona.
sloane’s way of coping with what her brother had done to her, and what her family had allowed him to do, was to fall deep into the cesspits of teenagedom. drugs, sex, alcohol – she’d done it all by the age of eighteen. yet somehow, the part of sloane before, the part that was simply a bratty child with a short fuse, was gone. now she was a danger. she held a wicked grin and too many scrapes to count. she knew no bounds, understood no loyalties, screamed at the top of her lungs as if she were attending the world’s wildest rager. on top of it all, sloane was the maximum party girl. nobody cared what she was going home to, because all they cared about was where she’d be at 1am on a friday night. she became the family wild child. photos of her strewn over the papers. consistent beatings and beratings from the men in her family did nothing to drown out the buzz she received from the attention she’d craved her entire life. sloane was finally getting everything she ever wanted, why did it matter where it was coming from?
as a final resort, her family shipped her off to hollingsworth. here, away from the prying eyes and judgemental glares of the horrid new yorkers, sloane somewhat thrived. forced into economics by her shithead father, but enjoying every test she aced and spat in his face, she fell quickly into gamma rho alpha and, by the time she had finished her freshman year, she was well in line to be vice president. she was still a wreck, still doing anything she could for the attention and limelight she craved, still bouncing off the walls in an attempt to get her desired adrenaline rush, but what little responsibility she’d been given allowed her to finally form connections. friends, best friends, but anything more than that? things like love, compassion, altruism? she wasn’t even sure what those were.
♡     personality.
uncritical. if there’s anything sloane is, it’s uncritical. she’s never held judgement against anyone in her life, and would never hold judgement against anyone who came to her to admit a heinous or strange deed. she’s heard all sorts, from strange sexscapades to near deaths, and to each of them she often has the same reaction – a loud chortle, followed by disbelief and a desire to know way too many details.
venturesome. to try and stop the blonde from heading out on an adventure is a task mortals would find impossible. a true ‘yes girl’, sloane has never been one to say no to anything, and to never back out of something she said yes to, no matter how bizarre or dangerous the situation might become. she’s always first into the fray, first in line of all the girls to beat the burglar up with a hair straightener, first in line into the abandoned building, first to jump off the roof into the pool.
allegiant. whilst sloane’s loyalty is almost as rare as unicorn blood, it’s possible to receive it, and when you do it’s something you’ll never lose. she sticks by those who have managed to put up with her, unable to let them go even when they do her dirty. 
graceless. a. clumsy. bitch. if you’re expecting sloane’s etiquette lessons to have stuck with her, you’re very wrong. the girl trips over her own feet more times than she can count in a day, always has at least something broken, fractured, or sprained, and has certainly won the award in gamma rho alpha for ‘most freak accidents in a single day’.
chaotic. everything about sloane is a nightmare come to life. she drags people down, deep into the depths of places they never thought they’d be, wishes for them to destroy their lives like she’s destroyed hers. to say she loves to see the world burn would be an understatement. she loves starting and watching drama, getting into fights, smashing up homes and belongings, getting into relationships she shouldn’t be in. trying to stop is nigh impossible, the chaos is almost an addiction, and she’s not ready to give it up.
needy. despite it all, she’s still the same girl who was never loved. not truly, not by anyone, and perhaps somewhere deep down she still craves that. she’ll leave you on read for days but god forbid you do the same to her. she’ll have a one night stand and dip right after but never lets her flings leave her life without something to remember her by. she drunk calls the exes she let get away, tells them she loves them and calls them a pussy in the same sentence. no matter how much she tries, she can’t hide the part of her she thinks is ugliest at all, her desire for others.
♡     fun facts.
an avid skateboarder, she picked it up in an attempt to ruin the family image even further when she was fifteen but it stuck in a surprising way. she now tends to ride it over campus, and has broken at least three in her time here.
massive stoner. whilst sloane openly dabbles in most drugs, weed’s the one that’s stuck with her, and it’s the only thing that slows her down. she’s a much nicer person when she smokes and she tends to have a preference for indica over sativa.
fucking bosses her major. economics, despite all its complexities, is something sloane is just naturally adept at. she takes a picture of every grade she gets with her middle finger in front of it, posts it on facebook and tags her father. he blocked her over a year ago.
besides that tho she’s stupid af. a lot of people think she puts it on bc of her grades and bc . . . she does everything for kicks, but no, she’s just kinda ditzy. a lot of people also think she’s just a straight up cheater and hasn’t gotten her grades herself.
nicknames are loan or jane, jane’s reserved for those she’s closest to tho!
♡     wanteds.
fellow  sorority  sisters     0/?     ⟶     self-explanatory! positive, negative, etc etc etc. i wanna plot w all her gals so bad lmao. besties, literal sisters, clothes sharers, secret smokers, party gals, enemies, girls who’ve slept w each other’s exes, all of it bABY.
economics  pal     0/1     ⟶     i’m thinking this person goes to sloane for help with everything and sloane pretty much does all their work for them. she doesn’t care bc it’s easy, and the other person blesses her and thanks her all the time. it’s a quiet agreement, so whilst it’s no secret bc sloane hates keeping them, it’s def hush hush. this person is one of the few who actually believes sloane’s as smart as they say. can also be a business student or smthn with similar classes!
super  soft  bestie     0/1     ⟶     ok so this is male only for a dumb reason i’m rly sorry. i had this plot before where my old muse sloane’s based off had a really sweet, selfless soft pal who was a dude, but they’d never slept together, she’d never even flirted somehow, and he was the one person in sloane’s life who always had her best interests at heart, and she defended him tooth and nail against anybody. the most unlikely duo ever and i want it back. she knew he never wanted anything else from her and that’s why it was so easy for her to attach, but bc this other person deals well with affection and is very reassuring, she never feels needy around them.
people  she  skates  with     0/2     ⟶     people she met down the skatepark or at a typical hangout before meeting them at hollingsworth. when she’s with them she’s pretty chill, though they’ve def been responsible for saving her ass and driving her to the ER a few times.
people  she  smokes  with     1/3     ⟶     oh shit whaddup stoner gang? lmao sorry anyway, yeah, again self-explanatory but! a lil more interesting because sloane’s very different when she’s stoned. she’s calmer, talks slower, and lets people get a word in and doesn’t try and get everyone involved w her hare brained schemes. these people probably actually enjoy her company! how wild?
new  yorkers     0/?     ⟶     sloane’s underwear has been plastered on the front page of most nyc tabloids and she’s the daughter of two massives in the industry, new york natives will know her somewhat. they can use that against her, they can empathize, or we can concoct some real dramatic shit. people who helped her fuck someone up, and now theyre keeping it quiet? someone she slept with who’s come to hollingsworth with their girlfriend/boyfriend? an addict she started on pills? yikes, lots of opportunity tho.
exes     0/2     ⟶     whew boy. we all know by now sloane’s a hot mess, right gang? so let’s see some people she’s messed up in the past. tOTALLY open to more exes and the more crazy the plot u bring me, the better. i lov angst just like anyone else does.
the  one  she  didn’t  ruin     1/1     ⟶     the one person in her life sloane walked away from without destroying, aka, the one she let get away because she realised she was going to harm someone she severely card about. she would’ve ended things with this person rather than pushing their buttons, would’ve been faithful and honest in their relationship, but dipped bc she’d let herself get involved too fast, too soon. definitely a name she’s forbidden her friends from bringing up.
lifeline     1/1     ⟶     let’s be real for a second about drug use, you can do it responsibly, but when you don’t, you can get in some serious fucking trouble. this person has always been there to stop sloane from od’ing. she only does hard drugs at ragers, so her risk is a bit lower than expected, but when she does them she does them. she’s a serious risk, and for some reason this gentle soul has taken it upon themselves to get her stomach pumped, take her home, clean her up, and give her a warm bed to stay in. they don’t speak much away from these nights where she has this vulnerability (she’s definitely mumbled things about her past to them), but that could very well change.
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miimzys-blog · 5 years
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hello, hello everybody!!! my name is morgan, i’m 19 and im from the est timezone !!! uhh i dont have a lot to say about myself . i havent been in an rp in a hot second and im so excited to hop back in . anyway, here’s mimzy. if you’re interested in plotting, please like this or hmu!
( ARIANA GRANDE, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER ) – wait a minute, wasn’t that TWENTY-THREE year old MIMZY MARCONI walking through the town square? i heard that they’ve been living in augusta for THEIR WHOLE LIFE and they live at SUNSHINE SQUARE. i often see them at LAS DEUX where they spend their time as A BARTENDER. the people closest to them say that they are HUMOROUS & IMAGINATIVE but can also be STUBBORN & UNREALISTIC ( morgan, est ) « [ muse a in plot 19 ] »
oh dear mimzy
mess of a child . so wild. fears nothing. will do anything and everything. favorite game is truth or dare, and she always picks dare. she craves fame and adventure and is always the one whos like “y’know what, we should go drive to new york fuckin’ city today . do we all have enough to chip in for a hotel room? yeah, we can all pile into a bed, lets go” just... spontaneous shit like that. give her a full tank of gas and shes off to go
mimzy grew up kinda emo. it was always just her and her mom who was always grinding to get enough money to raise them both . her dad skedaddled on out before she was born bc he was a piece of shit cokehead who slept around and used her mom for sex. her mom was this .. innocent lil bean . we stan mimzys mom . 
now being as broke as they were, mimzy always felt bad asking for anything from her mom. she knew her mom couldnt do it which would just make her feel bad so she turned to, u guessed it, theft ! and she got good at it. shes been caught a few times tho, her biggest problem being when she stole from a sephora despite the fact that everyone knows u shouldnt even try to steal from a sephora. mimzy, ur an idiot. she was on probation a few times as a minor and was lucky enough to slip out of juvy. it was always a thing tho . she wanted the best of the best, and she couldnt have it. 
this is why she turned to stealing. shes muse a in plot 19, aka the ringleader of a group of young adults who steal from the richer peoples houses. 
shes never been too intelligent or good in school which is why shes always kept a lower end job and relied on stealing and selling things to get by. shes never felt that she had too much of a purpose in life
miscarriage tw: mimzy was always someone who slept around a lot, just loved havin a good time and didnt want to settle down until late in life . besides, she didnt think she was really worthy of anyone dating. when she was 18 she found herself pregnant after a hookup with one of her friends. she’ll never say this too publicly to anybody, but when she found out she was actually excited, thinking that maybe being a mom could be a purpose for her in her life, but ... she had a miscarriage and lost her child, and it was a pretty brutal one. i’ll spare u the details. ever since then tho shes kinda just .. lost her purpose even more . just kinda livin life . 
anyway sorry to end this on an emo note thats mimzy tho
wanted plots; 
roommate
confidant
fwb
ex fwb
someone who used to rly like her but she turned them down :/ sry mimzy sucks w that
uhhh ? the dad of the baby she lost? sick
a cousin perhaps?
some close pals
siblings of her close pals
enemies
unlikely pals
someone who often buys the things she steals off of her
ok this all i got rn pls give me better ideas
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legitlaur · 5 years
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Golden Hour part 3 // p.p
Peter Parker x Reader
Word Count: 2.2k whoops
Warnings: Cheesy, awkward social encounters, the occasional swears, not edited (very well)
Summary: You didn’t think having photography with Peter Parker would be of any significance to your life, that is until you were with him at Golden Hour.
Note: sorry its legit the slowest story ever, im working on cutting down the fluff so it finally gets good. anywho thanks for reading, much love.
PART 2
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not my gif
Monday after school you had a job interview at a bookstore near the school. Before that you were supposed to meet up with Jonah to exchange phones.
“I wish you had a picture of this kid. Or a last name. We can’t even find his instagram.” Mimi complained during lunch.
“Speaking of instagram. Has there been any activity on my account? I didn’t change my password so he has access to it.” You explained.
Mimi turned on her phone, “I’ll check. This is perfect, we can use this as a trust exercise.”
You moved closer to Mimi, both of you looking at her screen. As you searched through your instagram there weren’t any recent likes. The memes Mimi had sent you remained unopened.
“Wow. This kid is golden. You better go out on a date with him,” Mimi popped a piece of cantaloupe in her mouth, “When are you seeing him again?”
You checked the time in her phone, “He said he’d be here right after school. I told him I have a job interview at 3:45 that I can’t miss.”
“Let’s meet up after school in the bathroom by physics and fix you.” Mimi suggested.
“Fix me?” you asked.
“Oh y/n. If you want a boy to like you, you’ve gotta do something about that hair.” She sighed.
You fought back, but Mimi was resilient. You agreed only to shut her up.
When the bell rang to get out of your last class, you slowly made your way to the science hall. Mimi would come find you if you didn’t meet her there. As you walked through the hall you noticed Peter and his friends. Ned Leeds and Michelle Jones. The perfect way to get out of meeting up with Mimi.
“Hey Peter.” You shouted as you walked into their small circle.
He smiled, “Hey y/n. This is Ned and MJ.”
“It’s Michelle, only my friends can call me MJ.” Michelle glared at Peter.
You frowned, “So what's up with you guys?”
“We are planning our next movie marathon. Lord of the Rings or Star Wars. We did Star Trek last month so I was thinking Lord of the Rings because its not space.” Ned excitedly explained.
You laughed, “I personally like The Hobbit more than Lord of the Rings,. So that's what I would watch.”
“No way. I love The Hobbit movies. We are definitely doing The Hobbit.” Peter exclaimed.
Ned looked at you, “Y/n you should totally come. Its great. We all wear pajamas and Peters aunt orders tons of food. We watch all day.”
Peter gave Ned a weird look, “Or, um I bet you have something better to do on your weekend.”
You wrapped your arm around Peter, “Actually no, I don’t. I’ll be there. Someone just text me the details,” You dropped your arm and started to the bathroom, “I’ll see you guys later.”
Mimi was leaning on the wall outside the bathroom, “Hurry up. My mom needs me home and I’m trying to help you. But you’re off socializing with,” She gestures towards Peter and his friends, “them.”
“Sorry. Let’s get this over with. I need to go meet Jonah.” You look at the phone in your hand.
You follow her into the bathroom where she wets your y/c/h. She brushed, and brushed.
“My goodness Mimi. I’m not gonna have any hair left.” You yelped.
“Sorry,” She patted it down one last time, “You’re good to go. Call me after. I wanna hear everything,” she ran out of the bathroom.
You fix your shirt, and look in the mirror. If Jonah didn’t like you when you liked like this, then he wasn’t the right guy for you. You sigh and head to the front of the school. Jonah wasn’t there yet. You sit down on the stairs and check the time..
3:10pm
You text him.
Where are you? Remember I have my job interview?
He didn’t respond, you sat with nervous knees.
3:20pm
You couldn’t be late for your interview, you texted him again. You sat patiently hoping he’d show.
“Y/n? What are you still doing here? Don’t you have a job interview?” Peter came and sat next to you.
You moved closer to him, hoping to use his body heat to get warm, “Yeah,” You shivered, “You know this phone,” you held out the Iphone X, “Well it’s not mine. It’s a kid named Jonah’s.”
You then went on to explain the whole story to Peter. Even Jonah’s good looks, and the butterflies in your stomach.
“So you’ve got a crush on this Jonah?” Peter smirked.
You pushed Peter with your body, “Shut it. I doubt it’s gonna go anywhere.”
Peter laughed, “I, I’m pretty sure it will. Just let things play out.”
You smiled, “Parker you know you give really good relationship advice.”
He shrugged, “It's what I do.”
You checked the time.
3:30
“I guess I’m walking. We love that.” You got up.
Peter stood up, adjusting the grip on his bag, “Want me to walk you?”
“No. You’ve gotta get to your internship. I’ll text you later and let you know how it goes,” you reached up and wrapped your arms around Peter, embracing him in a hug, “Thanks. I’ll see ya later.” Peters body was stiff, he raised his arm and patted your back awkwardly. You let go, Peter ran the other direction, you texted Jonah.
I’m leaving for my interview. I’ll call you after. You better answer.
Disappointed you ran from the school to the bookstore. The welcome bell rang.
“My name is y/n y/l/n. I’m here for a job interview.” You panted.
The cashier spoke into his earpiece, “Andrews your interview is here.”
Moments later a man came out of the back door, “Y/n?”
You nod, he comes to shake your hand, “I’m Alec Andrews, lets go into my office.”
He led you into a room behind the register. There was a small desk, and a few chairs.
You sat down and smiled.
“I hope you know you were late.” He sits down across from you.
You look at the time on his computer.
4:00pm
“I’m so sorry. I have a really good explanation. So I accide-”
“I’d rather not hear it if that's okay. I understand life happens.”
You went through the interview process, he asked you lots of questions. You happily answered them.
“Everything looks good, we will get back to you shortly.” Alec put your resume on top of a pile, you assumed were other resumes.
You thanked him and left. Once you got outside you checked Jonah's phone, there were six missed calls. You clicked one, waiting for him to answer.
“Y/n? I am so sorry. Can you please forgive me? I had to help move my grandma into an old folks home, and I wasn’t paying attention to the ti-”
“Its okay, are you free now? I’d really like to get my phone back.” You barked.
“Yeah, where are you? I’ll come to you.”
You told him the address of the bookstore, he said he would be there shortly. You were instructed not to leave for any reason.
Leaning against the wall of the bookstore you waiting patiently. Constantly looking at the people in the streets, hoping to see the blonde haired mystery boy again. A bright red Lamborghini zoomed past, only to make a sharp illegal u-turn. Pulling over, the window went down, “Hop in.”
You looked closer and saw Jonah. You threw your bag over your shoulder and ran into the street, he opened the doors. You carefully crammed in.
“Sorry about that. I thought this place was further down.” He turned on his blinker.
Still flustered you nodded, “So is this your car?”
“Cherry? I wish. Nope she’s my dads. It was the only car out and I needed to get here fast.” He chuckled.
“Where the hell were you? I was late to my interview. Wanna know why? Because of you. I just want to you know that when I don’t get that job it’s gonna be on you.” You screamed.
Jonah's face went pale, “y/n calm down. I have reasons.” “Helping your grandma? Please, that's the best you can do?” You interrupted.
“I also got you a coffee,” He help up a starbucks coffee.
You took it gingerly, carefully sipping, “You’re lucky I like all coffee.”
You saw your phone in the cup holder, you pulled Jonah's out of your pocket and switched them back.
Looking at through your notifications you smiled, your instagram hadn’t been touched. As for your messages there was a recent text. The contact read Jonah with a pink heart.
“Woah you assume because you caught me on the subway that I actually fell for you? If I recall there’s nothing going on between us.” You asked.
Jonah looked into your eyes, forgetting that he was driving a $200,000 car, “Yet,” he turned the radio down, “I kinda was planning a really cheesy way to ask you out.”
“Let's hear. How cheesy can it be?” You laughed.
His cheeks went bright pink, “It’s pretty bad. Let's just say it included me dramatically running to you at your school. Something about getting on my knees, offering your phone to you as a token of my loyalty to you if you would go on a date with me.”
You were wheezing, “Oh man. I definitely would’ve said yes. Now, I’m not so sure.”
He pulled over, and put the car in park, “y/n, I don’t know your last name.”
“y/l/n.” You informed him.
“Okay. y/n y/l/n, will you do me the honor of going out on a date with me?” He gave his best puppy dog face.
You took his hand and grasped it tightly, “Jonah?”
“Jonah Richardson.”
“Jonah Richardson it would be my pleasure to go out on a date with you.” You giggled.
Jonah was laughing too. His blonde hair moving everywhere. He looked so precious when he was laughing, not trying to impress anyone. He looked truly content.
“You’re cute when you laugh.”
Jonah looked startled, then he turned into his weird flirty self, “So you do find me attractive?”
“Cute and attractive are very different,” You covered your face hoping to hide your blushing cheeks.
Getting a little too close to your face he smirked, “You’ll find me attractive soon enough.”
You pull back, “I’m harder to impress than you think.”
He took your hand, and intertwined it with his, “Are you free now?”
You blushed, relaxed your hand, and answered, “Yeah.”
Jonah’s smile widened, “Let’s go now then.”
“Go where?” You asked.
He turned onto a street you’d never been on, “On our date, silly.”
You ran your hand through your hair, “Oh.”
Jonah parked and led you to a Mcdonald’s, “I know it’s not very classy, but Mcdonald’s hash browns are the only ones I’ll eat.”
You took his hand, and swung it as you walking into the fast food chain, “Mcdonald’s is perfect.”
You ordered and sat across from from each other.
“So you live in Queens?” You asked.
He took a bite of his hash brown, “Born and raised.”
“Where do you go to school?” You continued.
“I go to a private school part time, my dad wants me to learn the family business. Says it’s more important than a high school diploma.” He shrugged.
You dipped your fry in ketchup, “Family business?”
“Richardson Science and Technology. Ever heard of it?” He asked.
Your mouth dropped, “Your dad owns RST?”
He sipped his milkshake while nodding.
You only knew about the company because you saw Peter reading articles about it in photography, you’d asked him about it. They were some huge corporation that started up not to long ago, it was getting as big as Stark Industries.
“So what do you for fun?” You changed the subject.
“Drive, box, and watch a good movie.” His eyes were wandering.
You looked around to see what he was looking at, everywhere seemed normal.
He brought his attention back to you, “So, y/n what about you?”
You shrugged, “Not much to say. I’m a 16 year old, a Junior at MSST, my mom expects perfection so that’s what I give. I guess?”
Jonah grabbed your hand, and gently kissed your knuckles, “You are perfection.”
The night went on and you learned more about each other, finally Jonah looked at the time.
9:40
“Crap,” He threw his trash in his bag and stood up, “I gotta get you home.”
You followed him and ran out to the car. He took your hand again in the car. You smiled and explained how to get to your apartment.
He parked, opened the door for you, and even walked you up to your apartment.
“So,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “I’ll text you later, if that’s okay.”
You turn the key in the lock., “More than okay,” you turn to face him, “Thanks for the ride home.”
Leaning up you kissed his cheek, “Night.”
He leaned against the doorway, “Good night y/n.”
You closed the door smiling.
TO BE CONTINUED
Tag list: @victorianfatmycroft @laurrenhawker
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bananadineapple · 6 years
Text
Distraction >> phase 2
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PROMPT: It's Y/N's birthday. In the Avengers tower where Bucky was set to distract Y/N from a party, she was already distracted herself while walking back. It didn't help as well when she sees Bucky with his bare arms and toned body sitting in the middle of the couch.
PAIRING: Bucky x slightlyOCD!Reader
WORD COUNT: 5,564
WARNINGS: Language, a bit of NSFW (just a teensy bit)
A/N: IM BACK GUYS and Im so sorry this took reaaal long, I had to make sure every detail was perfect. And it actually too reeeeal long to write, surprisingly. But at last, I have delivered! And so will Bucky soon if you continue to read on nyeheheheh ;))
 I hope you guys like it!
  MASTERLIST
  Phase one >> Phase two
Y/N has just come home from a long and exhausting briefing, one that to her distaste fell on her birthday. After that alarming surprise mission that knocked all the energy out of the Avengers, Y/N was more than worried for her own state of wellbeing. So all the while she stood their explaining every detail of the mission to Fury, she was absent-mindedly thinking if the rest of the team was still up for a night out in a resto bar, laughing and celebrating the night away while trying to endure everyone else's corny half-drunk birthday messages.
It was a huge breath of air when Fury does the weirdest thing he’s ever done; hug her and wish her a happy birthday along with a short but well-meant ‘thank-you’  for her undying loyalty and service to SHIELD and the Avengers. With a short nod from his head he dismisses her, and she went bolting right out of the building, a bit ignorant of the passing greetings coming from her co-workers and friends, and hopped right in her car while mentally laying out the plan for tonight such as which resto bar would be nice enough, the budget Tony would be willing to allot, how much alcohol would Steve be willing to allow, and what to wear and all the basic fiddle-faddles of a night out.
Oddly, she found her train of thoughts faltering when she had imagined a certain someone's smile she'd want to see all night long. Maybe his piercing blue eyes crinkling with his heartfelt laughter and his warm aura that made her feel safe was on the list of things Y/N so desperately wanted to see to complete her birthday night out. Even if he just sat there quietly, not bothering to talk more than a few words with her other than ‘Happy Birthday’ or ‘You look nice tonight’, it’d be enough.
----
“Does he hate me or something?”
Clint makes one of the most shocked faces Y/N has ever seen her best friend make.
“Y/N” He quickly makes his way beside her, “You and I both know you’re way to kindhearted for anyone in the Avengers team to hate.”
“But…I have no idea why he won’t talk to me.”  Clint noticed the way Y/N’s voice trails off into a whisper, as if he didn’t notice the fact that Y/N was completely interested in Bucky.
“And I have no idea why you won’t talk to him.”
Her eyes widened with realization when she looked at Clint’s knowing face. And she feared that beneath that look was a reason why the silent air between her and Bucky remained untouched throughout the months.
“It’s 2018, for God’s sake Y/N.” Despite the annoying chuckle from her close friend, she nods slowly, “It doesn’t matter who goes first. What matters is how long will you let the silence last. Don't complain about something you can fix yourself."
Y/N remained silent. And that’s when Clint knew she knew he was right.
“You think he’ll like me back?”
“Everyone does, and so does he. Just give it a go, maybe tomorrow’s you’re lucky day.”
----
Despite the image from the surface of Bucky Barnes as the soldier he is with his undeniably attractive frame, she wanted to see that man she fell in love with over the few words and interactions they’ve had for months.
She was clueless to whatever was the reason behind Bucky's shy nature. From all that action she sees of him on the field; strapping, ruthless and fierce with every move he makes, he just suddenly turns into a big ball of awkwardness around her. Y/N tried many times to figure out if it was her morning breath or something on her face that was bothering Bucky to not even have a normal conversation with her. To this, she just painful got accustomed to, thinking that in no ways would it ever change. Even during the past couple birthdays all he would do is mutter a greeting with a compressed smile she awkwardly reciprocates.
And it became a silent agreement all of a sudden. Nods, silent glances, very small talks that would last for only seconds even if she wanted it to last for hours. A 'safe' distance, as she put it, Y/N thought it was best that they kept it that way, because she was slowly giving into the thought that he just doesn't feel the same way and that's really just how the real world works.
So yes, it was pretty surprising that he was suddenly right there in the middle of the living room, just suddenly taking interest in actually looking back at her eyes.
"Hey Y/N." He spoke in a tone softer than from the raspier one she often hears.
"Uh...” She had no idea what to say so Y/N gives off an awkward wave of her hand, “…h-hey Bucky.”
“You’re here early?”
The words and the way he said it was different.
Too different that she tried gathering her thoughts to figure out if this was real, of just another one of her birthday fantasies. But when Bucky puts on that signature, million-dollar smile on his face, just once, and the entire view of his gorgeous, sculpted body pressing against the tight fabrics of his clothes began to seethe through Y/N sense of focus. The moment she felt the rising heat in her cheeks threatening to ruin her composure she clears her throat and tore her gaze from Bucky before her eyes began to travel down further.
“Uh  yeah yeah I-uh…” The habit of denying the words Y/N was dying to say to him stuck to her like a leech, and she didn’t bother to take it off especially with him around looking like such a fucking god, “Fury gave me an ‘early dismissal’ as his birthday present to me.”
When Y/N’s eyes weren’t looking where he wanted them to be, Bucky was knocked ever so slightly out of focus out of a distant feeling of uncertainty of the plan working.
“You okay Y/N? Did whatever that incident I heard a while ago still bother you?”
At Bucky’s decision to stand up from where he was seated, Y/N found herself awkwardly shifting her stance while rubbing the back of her neck nervously. Because she still couldn’t imagine managing to stay alive under his towering stature dangerously close to her.
Shit Y/N stop it.
“No no it’s just that…” You’re too hot to look at damn it. “…FRIDAY was acting real weird with the keypad and everything and Tony-“
When Y/N too suddenly pauses, so did Bucky. Because it looked like she had realized something real big, and Bucky was mentally hoping that she had it all figured out. But it wasn’t the surprise she figured out, but a ticket out of this thickly awkward air between them, that could still eventually lead to the sabotage of the Avengers’ plan.
“TONY!” Bucky was startled at the way her body jolted and her finger pointed at him. “Yes, uh Tony! I-I need to look for Tony.”
“W-what?”
Safe distance. Safe distance, Y/N, she tells to herself like a mantra.
Y/N’s feet began to shift as she tried to figure out where to walk around and way way far from Bucky. But at every shift to her left or to her right Bucky quickly blocks her to it. She stops for a moment to make sure she wasn’t being fooled by her playful imagination. And she was certain with the way he had oddly locked his gaze into hers as if he was observing every movement she made. Again, odd. And extremely hot enough to form a lump in her throat she could not manage to swallow.
“Why?”
Bucky had stepped closer to his right to block Y/N off just a subtle bit so as not to give it all away.
“I-It’s my birthday and-“
Another step to her left, was mirrored suit by Bucky.
“H-Happy Birthday by the way.”
By then he was already a few inches away from her, and Y/N was too engrossed with trying to pry her way out of the sheer bashfulness she was feeling so near around Bucky. Despite the fact that he was still a bit rusty, Bucky had liked the way he was already making her feel; he could practically feel the radiating heat from her flushed cheeks without even nearing the touch of her skin. It was pretty much enough to give him the right leverage to do more than just distract Y/N.
“Thaaanks…” Her lips were barely carrying the smooth, nonchalant laughter she intended that it came out rather nervous and squeaky, and Bucky found it so amusing to hear, “…u-uh Buck…c-can you excuse me for a moment?”
“Why?”
Y/N got herself cornered looking back into those alluring eyes of his.
“W-well I uh-you see it’s like-yeah uhm…” Now Y/N was even confused herself if the system lock was malfunctioning, or every single part of her common sense, “…t-the party-n-no I mean tonight-I-I need to talk to-A-Avengerss….”
Bucky didn’t realize how adorable Y/N looked so flustered up like that. It sent his lips curling into a smile went he let his imagination dance around his head with the thought of having Y/N melt in his touch, and it led him everywhere he wanted his hands to be on hers, and it soon had him bursting with a newfound confidence to shake off every ounce of awkwardness left in his bones.
“They’re not here.” He takes a pretending look around, with a slow shrug of his shoulders, making sure that his eyes land back on hers, “It’s just you and me.”
Both her eyes and mouth widened when realizing that he was right. But it was worth one more push to pry him off of her.
“W-where did they go?” She tried to pull the conversation back to a casual one, but the way he just looked at her differently, she knew she was losing to whatever Bucky was playing on her.
“Off to buy you some presents.” Bucky grins, while leaning his arm beside the wall to rest his body just close enough to lock her in her place.
“W-why?”
Because it was a bit odd that all of them except Bucky would be running off to buy her presents. But the more she tried to wire her brain to fire back up her skills in exemplary focus, she just couldn’t with having Bucky Barnes too close for her to even function properly with standing up straight.
“Why not?” Now Y/N was beginning to feel her heart thump too loudly when he began to take closer steps towards her, that she panicked and automatically strode backwards and found herself not being able to take her gaze off of his trance, “Why wouldn’t they lavish the special birthday girl with gifts that she deserves?”
This man was acting suspiciously out of character around her. And Y/N tried to find every reason she could think of to answer why but how her brain was juggling two thoughts all at once was knocking out every ounce of her well-trained skill.
“Y-you?” She was almost too speechless, but Bucky had picked it up.
“I already have mine.”
At the last word that rolled off his lips she felt the cool surface of the wall suppress her from walking back any further, and to her fear, had her right where Bucky wanted her.
Bingo.
Bucky watched Y/N heave out a breath in surrender. There was nowhere else to go, and Bucky made sure that she had a good and close view of him when she slowly lifted her eyes to look back at him.
Heaven be damned at such a gorgeous view Y/N had of Bucky Barnes, the closest she has even gotten to in months. And she marveled at how better his entire frame looked so damn close. The way his ocean blue eyes traced down every part of her frame, strands of his hair delicately sweeping at the side of his flushed cheeks that couldn’t beat the shade his smirked lips were showered with. This time Y/N let her eyes feast on a view lower, but ever so slowly enough to take in his breathtaking, massive form. She felt her breath hitch at the sight of part of his bare chest peeking from the fitted shirt that was barely able to hold back the shape of every curves of his muscular torso, and she could barely keep her sudden crave at bay. In every single detail she had grown to love so damn much, Bucky had never made her feel so captivated without even saying anything.
Despite the blush in her cheeks creeping slowly everywhere on her face, Y/N was admittedly loving Bucky’s alluring display at a distance just in hand’s reach.  
“You look beautiful, Y/N.” He was so close, she could feel his breathe tickling on her skin that began to heat in longing for his against it.
Even Bucky himself was so perplexed at how he underestimated the beauty of this gorgeous woman. How delicate her bashfulness made her look, how prettily she blushed like that. But one look at her skin that showed only a portion from her neck down, he bit his lip at the thought of having every inch of her all on him, and it could be in a matter of seconds if Y/N didn’t stop looking so fucking irresistible to his taste, so he bit his lip to try and keep his desire controlled.
Bucky felt a deep craving for her, something that he was trying so hard to avoid over the past few months he only had her at his sight. And to think, all it took was one small mishap of a scheduled package to have her right where he wanted her that he was longing for months. Thank you, T’Challa.
“Bucky…” She breathes out a whimper, dangerously aware of him closing in, but could do nothing but helplessly look at his nearing lips, “… Y-you’re acting so weird today…”
"Y-you.." Y/N couldn't find where to place her hands so it began having a mind of its own and just went pointing at every inch of Bucky, "..y-you're talking to me."
For a moment Bucky blinked, "Yeah uh…I am?"
"Right I just um.." Y/N could only squint to Bucky's eyes staring her down, so to be careful not to get lost in them. "…you-me…we never talk like this."
He lets a deep chuckle rumble from his chest, and Y/N swore it sounded more like a growl enough for her to automatically bite her lip in suspense. Bucky was aware of the surprising amount of confidence he had all of a sudden, and it was only because he knew the truth that still had Y/N denying it through her pursed lips.
“Well I…” There it was. It was about to happen. "It's your birthday, Y/N."
"Aand? W-What's the difference today from the others?"
Another grin emerges from the corners of his lips. He did find the newfound confidence in him to be completely out of the silent character he had Y/N be used to. Bucky was beginning to like this new attitude he realized only Y/N was able to bring out of him.
"Well, I uh…" His gaze simmers down to a softer tone, "…I found out something today…"
It took Y/N less than seconds to know what he meant. His oddly sexy demeanor today, right on her birthday, made sense of it all. But what had Y/N hold her breath was he found it out, and she knew he was a bit dense to figure it out himself. Someone told him. Another feeling she tried to keep controlled was the sudden urge to open her mouth at a probable suspect such as Clint.
"Mmm?" Y/N hummed, trying to look cool when her whole body was already heating up.
"A little bird told me something that you've been hiding from me all these months we never talked."
Right. Shit. Clint was soo getting a clean knock on his head later.
"H-hiding? Me?" She tried to look innocent, but had the rest of her words tumbling down, "N-nooo I- what would I hide from-"
"Try hiding all you want; bat those pretty lashes of yours, keep telling me lies,"
Bucky paused, and it was to find the right words to say to her. Because that moment was it, it was happening. The one thing he could only dream of but never get a chance to actually do. This was the chance.
“Your trick may be working on me, but I already know the truth.”
His body was practically magnetizing hers, and she was almost too close to giving in. The suspense was slowly driving Bucky mad, but he knew it was what had Y/N holding onto every quick breath she took.
"Y/N…" The way her name slips off his mouth sounded gentler this time, letting a few quiet seconds pass while slowly pulling her hips closer, and the soft gasp she exhales drove him wild.
"Bucky…" He took the first move to slowly close the inches of a gap between his lips and hers. "…I-I…am completely confused right now…"
"Don't worry, doll." The way Bucky purred had Y/N completely entranced, "I have the answer to your problem."
It's really happening. Y/N couldn't find the urge to retaliate anymore, because Bucky himself was pulling her closer. It was beginning to be clear that Clint was right all along. So Y/N slowly begins to lean in as well, giving into her fast beating heart that screamed and craved to having him pressed against her in what was just about to be in seconds apart. She closes her eyes ever so slowly, raising her chin against his hot, fanning breath tickling her aching lips.
Right, until..
CCLLLAAANNNGG
“FUCK!”
A loud noise, followed by a voice broke throughout the entire room, bouncing right off the walls and breaking in between the two's momentary trance. Y/N’s eyes shot right open at Bucky’s bewildered ones. It was until the few remaining echoes of whatever made the noise began to process in both their heads. Not a good thing, though, for Y/N to instantly recognize what, who, and where it came from.
“Was…” At first she was uncertain, but still asked him nonetheless, “…w-was that Sam?”
Sam? Even Bucky had the same look of confusion knocking every last bit of that distractingly attractive look on his face. Until Sam’s voice replayed in his memory, and all too quickly, came in remembering the string of thoughts of the surprise birthday party bursting in with the sense of panic surging through his body. He was trying his best not to show it through his eyes so he blinked rather a bit too fast to still make it obvious enough for someone with Y/N skills in deducting.
“U-uh…no?” And Bucky had made the mistake of asking rather than answering.
Something didn’t click in Y/N’s head.  The bat of her lashes along with the nagging thought of not figuring out the hell of what happened began to loosen the grip Bucky had once had around her.
“No Buck, don’t play me for a fool.” She pauses, “I know how Sam shouts when he drops something.”
Now Y/N had Bucky into a muttering mess, as he struggled to find the words to try and say to cover up the obvious sabotage to the entire plan, and his own plan of finally being able to pursue Y/N. He didn’t even know how to stop Y/N’s head for trying to make sense of the oddly misplaced mishap of hearing something she wasn’t supposed to hear.
Empty. With the circular sound of a bowl, probably plastic from the emanating sound not likewise to the sound of glass. And a voice from a man which seems out of place for an empty room?
“A-and I know what he dropped, and where he is.” Bucky, for once, hated how smart Y/N was and for not listening to Thor enough to not underestimate this woman’s intelligence.
He also hated how Sam, though not surprisingly, has ruined practically everything.
“I better check that out.”
Bucky had not realized that Y/N already had slipped from under his arms and making her way slowly towards the hallway, but he instinctively glid in front of her, which took her aback.
“I-I don’t think you should.” Y/N at first could vaguely make out of his nervous grin
“Bucky…” She raised her brows questioningly, “…why are you blocking me?”
Fuck. Bucky knew that he was the one on the hot seat right at that moment. He could do nothing but shrug sheepishly, something that one doesn’t usually see out of a mysterious assassin like him.
“I-I uh it well…” He was beginning to feel sweaty when Y/N crossed her arms in suspicion, “…I-It could be an…intruder! Yeah uhm, an intruder that sounds like Sam!”
Now Bucky was beginning to sound so silly. This had Y/N remembering that one time he broke one of Tony’s extremely fragile coffee machines that was just freshly manufactured out of his own hands. She could see every lie grow sillier and sillier each time it passes through his quivering lips. The same manner she was seeing right in front of her.
It finally clicked in her head.
“Ohhhh…you’re not hiding something, are you?” A grin began creeping up her lips, “On my birthday?”
“Noooo…” Bucky’s voice trailed off into a whisper with a tilt of his head to the right. Lie.
“You are. I’m checking whatever you hid down there right now.”
The surprise was officially 90% ruined.
“Y/N-NO!”
By then Bucky’s adrenaline response dialed up to 11. As Y/N abruptly turned her body away from him, in a split second his metal arm jerked to grab Y/N by her wrist, earning a loud pained gasp from her, and the rest began to happen in a quick blur.
She wasn’t even able to let a curse slip through her lips when Bucky had tugged her arm towards him and had her body colliding on his and his lips landing right on hers. Y/N was extremely startled at what just happened, but when it began to sink into her that she was being kissed by Bucky Barnes, having to feel his lips that was surprisingly so soft and warm, she soon felt her tensed body instantly ease into his arms tracing its way to take all over her frame.  
Bucky had made it sure to move his lips in a pace enough for her to slowly fall into a trance. He too, soon began to realize he was kissing Y/N. At first his movements were hastened, still wanting to make sure that she wasn’t too startled or uncomfortable. Until he felt her returning the kiss with a long moan vibrating against his lips, and Bucky loved it.
In moments, he soon had his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, feeling his cheeks flush at the feeling of her body pulled closer and moving against his. And the way she was responding with hitched breaths and moans drove him to deliver as much as he can to keep his growing crave for more of her intoxicating touch.
“Buck…” her shaky breath could barely mutter at the uncontrollable feeling of falling back into his lip-lock.
“Sshhh…” He whispered against her mouth, as his still ached for more to kiss her back again.
At each second that passed they both felt the immense heat rising between them and they could both hardly keep it at bay. Just as Y/N was about to push him over the edge and tackle him down, he clung onto her body and let the spur of the moment drive her back against the wall with a loud thud. He felt her shudder when he deepens the kiss while grazing his tongue on her lips,  and had her chasing him back in a silent beg to never leave them. And damn how he tasted so good.
It wasn’t until he could sense her arms wrapping around his neck with a few grips of his locks here and there when he kissed her just right to make a deep growl of content rumble right through his chest and onto hers. He chuckles softly and responds with his hands gliding down to reach for her legs and had her lifted with ease, earning another low moan of his name at his has tracing every curve of her thigh. Bucky was practically melting into this tight embrace of deep endearment between them, and he wished Y/N was just as pleased as she should be on her special day.
This was different. Not because he completely forgot that this was all a distraction plan, but because by then he could only feel the pure, raw feeling both of them had for each other in this sweet chase of ecstasy between them that had his heart thumping fast against hers, and he could hear their heartbeats as one. It wasn’t a distraction plan, it was real.
Midway into the moment escalating, he felt his lungs gasp for air and only then was able to pry himself away from her, but just ever so slightly still near enough to see the way her flushed lips puffed from all that irresistible kissing.
“Y/N…” He wasn’t sure if what had him breathless was either the kiss or her lovely features glowing in a way he hasn’t seen before.
“Damn…” She whispered as she tried to catch her breath, looking at Bucky in that way that had his mouth tickling with a growing smile, “…you hid that from me all this time? Where was I a few months ago?”
“I-I thought you didn’t like me.” He grinned sheepishly having only that excuse to say.
A loud, almost too scandalized gasp escapes her agape mouth to which Bucky found too amusing to suppress his heartfelt laughter, “Not like you?! Especially now that I know you kiss like that? Lies!”
Bucky’s laughter, once it filled her ears sounding like sweet music, it had her contagiously doing the same. And man, could he listen to her delight all day. As the laughter died down, his eyes simmered back lovingly in a gaze that admired that smile of hers, and knowing it was because of him had the same smile that felt like warm sunshine on her.  
“Oh Bucky…” She coos softly, cupping his cheeks in her hands while letting her thumbs softly brush against his skin, “…I…I do like you. Hell, I think I’m falling in love with you.”
Bucky let out a breathy gasp at feeling his heart dance around the words it wished to hear. “You do?”
“So much.”  She whispers back with every word coated with endearment, “I had no idea you felt the same way. I was beginning to think you didn’t.”
“God I do love you.” His voice grows deeper in a way Y/N knew he meant what he said.
“I was just having a hard time to accept the fact that I was flustering head over heels for you. I just didn’t know what to say. I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. So I tried to keep my distance, and you just seemed to agree to it, so I went along with it. But fuck, you were just too beautiful with your pretty little eyes, your enchanting laughter, your bright smile, your gorgeous figure; I-I  tried so many damn times to break the barrier, because I could barely stand the thought that you were slipping away from my hands. But this…”
He gently tucks away a strand of her hair behind her ear, to get a better view of those dazzling eyes that was the first thing that drew him to believe he had a crush on her, “…you. Right here in my arms. I wish I could’ve done something earlier to get this lovely view of you near me sooner. Seeing every single bit of who you are this close, it just, it takes my breath away.”
Y/N felt so touched with his genuine endearment, it had her barely struggling to find the words that could amount to his poetic lines.
“I still can’t believe that someone so amazing like you would love someone like me back.” Bucky shakes his head affectionately with a warm smile, but Y/N felt the trail of doubt leaving from his mouth.
“Do I have to kiss you again to convince you that I do?” She wiggled her brows at him suggestively, and he liked the way she did that.
“Oddly, I’m tempted doll.” Y/N giggles at the touch of his nose on hers.
She takes a moment to pause and just savor at that man’s gorgeous features. It was radiating with a calmer aura, something she found herself feeling at home at. And she grew fond of the way his smile was adoring her, getting one for the take and press a quick gentle kiss on to steal it from his. It was still her birthday anyway, might as well take more than just a taste.
“So all this.” She says as she pulls away, “All this was some sort of a distraction plan?”
There was actually no more point to argue for Bucky, since it wasn’t his fault she had it figured out. “Yeah yeah…I uh, actually didn’t expect it to work too well.”
“For a moment, you did get me with that hot bod of yours.” Y/N admitted with a playful bite of her lip. “And that was Sam I heard?”
“I think the entire team’s pissed off at him right now, let’s just leave him be.”
“So it was a surprise party!”
He blinked at her smart guess. “Y-Yeah, you got us.”
“And the entire team is in here!”
And oddly, he loved the way she was so proud and giddy of her achievement in finding out herself. Damn, a confident Y/N close to him was better than a bashful one from afar.  “I didn’t know you were this enigmatic.”
“And I didn’t know you didn’t know that I knew and blah blah blah blah…” To this Bucky chuckled at. There were too many words apart from Y/N and Bucky’s lips that she decided to dismiss all the talk and press her lips once more onto his, missing the way it felt so good a while ago.
This one was a sweeter version of what they shared from before. It was a sort of deep acknowledgement between them, now that all confusion was gone and nothing but deep affection for each other was blossoming in their chest and through their lips. To which Y/N hummed in delight to, since she finally got that only present she’s been wanting all day long, that whatever party she or the team had planned wasn’t at the top of her priority list for the day.
Because all she had her head wrapped around was all on him. All on him.
“Oh wait, that reminds me.” A thought pops up in his head when she pulls away momentarily, “You should still go in that room and see what the team has prepared for you. Pretend to act surprised for Sam’s sake.”
“Awww do I have to?” She whines with a pout of her lips like a child would on her birthday, “Can’t that wait until later? It’s my birthday anyway and I get to choose what I want to doooo…”
“Why? Do you have something important to do?”
Y/N was amused at Bucky’s cluelessness to her small hints. She lets out a small giggle before biting her lip to give him a head start. “You, you silly idiot.”
“Ooohhh…”
The moment Bucky gets it he bites his lips playfully as well, scrunching his nose at Y/N’s smooth line. He was glad to grant the birthday girl’s wish at the sight of another door leading to a spare bedroom. And how he was turned on by the way Y/N looked right at him that sent his mind wandering to intimate thoughts shared with her body all over his. He couldn’t careless of the initial plan and had his impatience drove his arms to swiftly carry her towards the said room.
“Well then, wait until you unwrap my present to you.” He purrs against her ear, giving it a little nudge before pressing her back against the door. “Fuck, I love you Y/N.”
“I love you to Bucky…” Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine at the sound of his raspy voice, grinning to herself at the thought of such a surprising gift, “…Happy fucking birthday to me.”
And just like that, Bucky did not waste his time with her any longer and had his hand grasping for the doorknob as the other quickly pulls her in for a hungrier kiss she finds herself sinking back into. And they let themselves fall into each other’s embrace, their thoughts playing into reality with intimate touches at the close of the door.
--- BONUS: ---
“Took him damn long enough.” Sam chuckles at finding out that their friend finally made his move.
"If it wasn't for you fucking it all up with that popcorn bowl you ‘accidentally’ dropped." Tony rolls his eyes, something that Sam dismisses annoyingly at. “Wanda clearly warned you to duck.”
"What's the word on the lovebirds Wanda?" Clint leans in closer to Wanda, who had her thoughts linked to hear both Y/N's and Bucky's.
She only gasps with a cheeky grin on her face as a response. To this the whole team had known what was spiraling down from the sound of the door across theirs slamming shut.
"Lucky punk." Steve shakes his head, to which Bruce gives an acknowledging pat on his back with a chuckle.
"So much for the package." Tony sighs. "And the party."
"I taught him well." Natasha helped herself to a smug grin.
"Lady Y/L/N's fantasies finally came true." Thor wriggles his eyebrows in agreement to Natasha.
"Are we still pushing through with this party?" Wanda could barely suppress her amused giggles, shutting off her powers to give the two enraptured lovers their privacy. "They seem very engrossed in whatever they're doing."
"Welp, seems like this party's postponed." He knew that look on Wanda's face, Clint knew. "The distraction plan did work but their having a little party of their own now."
  ++++
Heeyyy guys!! So wow, this one had a whopping 5k+ words. It really took a long LONG process to finally have my head click with the right words and plot. But again, I’m so happy with the overwhelming response to the first part. THANK YOU as well for reading this imagine and for the support. Here’s to more imagines! <333
BUCKY BARNES DESERVES BETTER I AM NOT CEASING TO SCREAM THIS EVERYWHERE
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TAGLIST (for this fic) (permanent ones are still OPEN)
@hottrashformarvel @captainam-erika-trash @marvelandothers @karmezii @5-seconds-of-sarcasmm @hippieballs @totorosbooty @wisestydia-15 @faakelanadelrey
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moriiyun · 3 years
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(sort of) first listen: day6's the book of us: negentropy - chaos swallowed up in love
i say sort of first listen because i've heard the first 3 songs on this album before, i just haven't heard the rest. and honestly, day6's music is so complex so this reaction definitely does not do it justice, so yea!!
also reminder these are just my opinions and takeaways pls don’t kill me thanks :D
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everyday we fight
i heard this before but why am i noticing so many things now???? like the funky synth bit after the first chorus and the way the 2nd chorus transitions into the 1st part of the bridge wha,,,,,, and there are 2 sections of the bridge which are completely different and i was so baffled that i went backwards to hear it again because i couldn't believe it LMAO. only day6 things i guess. also dowoon is really doing the most on the drums because there is a lot of marching band snare stuff going on especially in the pre-chorus. that's interesting tho cos it's like a battle cry, the snare drum. plus at the end of the song there is a 'ding' which is like that sound when you win a boxing match and it's like 'everyday we fight' so day6 really said fight references this is genius i love this i think it's called wordsplaining?? idk
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you make me
i've heard this so many times so now whatever is here is just me nitpicking LOL but seriously, there is so much detail in this there is so much to unpack geez. like first off structure wise there are so many music breaks it actually doesn't make sense but it does. idk. also the bridge literally goes straight from the 2nd chorus non stop and then we transition into a final chorus type thing (or is it a 2nd bridge?) and i have no idea what went on there but it is good. and the pre-chorus is like 2 lines long?? strange but it works so oh well who am i to complain. also on the instrumentation,,, there seems to be like 3 layers of drums, 1 is definitely an edm beat cos it's too fast to play so that's a synth thing, 1 is dowoon playing the legit actual drums during the chorus parts but the last one is strange. it's mostly used during the verses and pre-chorus, and in the background during the chorus. it sounds like a drum pad so not the actual drum kit but the black thing that works like a drum when u hit it, but during the chorus how do u play 2 drums??? like nani?? i suspect he plays drum pad during the verses and the chorus is just an edm synth track that they recorded before hand. either that or they used a loop machine thing for the drum pad sound. i really dunno cos there's no live stages so rip. if anyone asks why i pick up drums soundwise first when i learn guitar, i have no idea okay,, i just do lol. also can we give a shoutout for vocals for 5 seconds,, especially wonpil's falsetto-belt-falsetto in the bridge like damn. talent.
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healer
okay i've heard this one before too and this song is. interesting. cos it made me realise that this album so far has basically been even of day's sound with fuller instrumentation. it's more synth than piano based and that's not bad, it's just new for day6 imo. this song is mostly interesting structure?? like the synth bit at the intro was funky and the verse dropping down into the pre-chorus before going up into the chorus just works?? idk. also i'm gonna take a moment to talk about the post-chorus because this is one of the most effective post-choruses i know. i'm not the biggest fan of post-chorus stuff cos it's kinda weird sometimes but this works idk. the synth melody that they play during that part is addicting and also for some reason very destabilising? like idk feels like i'm flying in the sky with peter pan or something. it works for me it sounds really nice. also once again the bridge is a strange one because it's basically a whole section of loud crowd-cheering type sounds and then 1 actual proper line and them BOOM chorus again. a bit like the bridge of shoot me except that bridge has 2 sections 1 cheering one actual singing. this doesn't really have that but somehow it works for the song. day6 are magic i don't make the rules. also can you imagine this in concert with an actual crowd T_T
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only
what. WHAT. i haven't heard this one before and i kid you not my mouth was open for the whole song in SHOCK. remember when i said so far the album was very even of day style? well the intro of this song said SIKE and now i can't process SHIT. like what even happened???????? it all sounds good tho. this song is really calming and i will probably start registering it when i start listening to it more. but i'm just gonna talk about verse 2 for a second because ???????????????????????? im so shook someone sang in a low timbre and i was like ??? who this ?? and i was like oh maybe it's jae and i couldn't figure it out until the end of the verse TURNS OUT IT'S FREAKING BRIAN/YOUNG K WHAT EVEN THAT DOESN'T EVEN SOUND LIKE HIM ????????????? im so confused day6 vocal kings i guess. also the bridge...sungjin just kept climbing up and i was like wait his range isn't gonna make it to the end of the bridge but nO IT TRANSITIONS TO BRIAN SO SMOOTHLY AND ONCE AGAIN I AM BAFFLED HOW DO THEY DO THIS. many questions no answers. also outro bit was really nice and it led into a fadeout that i don't usually like but was expected for this song cos this song definitely needs a fadeout so yknow, it works. anywho good song still very baffled but good song. also last note i forgot about this but they were doing a lot of voice echoing like choir-esque bits and that was super cool.
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above the clouds
first things first: the return of shaker, acoustic guitar and piano my beloved <3 like the sounds were so pretty and acoustic in the first verse i knew there was gonna be a drop somewhere but the drop came in a place i didn't expect and in a way i didn't anticipate - turns out it's the one melody i remember from the teasers and now it's gonna be stuck in my head forever because it's that good of a melody. i also didn't expect the drums to go that hard but they did and it works out so yknow what i can't complain. once again day6 are wordsmiths and musical geniuses because they started the song very softly with the sound of wind, as if you're flying in the sky cos 'above the clouds' but not only that they end with a similar windy sound and they also end similar to landed (by even of day) which is so poetic and ironic because landed = on the ground and this song is 'above the clouds' like seriously this is the biggest brain shit ever. the bridge has an ascending bit which is super cliche but idk this is one of those songs where you want them to follow the cliche melody??? idk but it worked for me and this might be one of my faves in the album so far.
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one
this song ................... wack. it starts with an almost hip hop beat and i was like ??? but then it slowly layers more vocals and instrumentals and suddenly it sound like well, a day6 song. and i cannot explain how in love i am with the chorus, it feels like the rallying cry of the broken people, and it just reaches you in a very different way from the rest of the song and is completely different. also there is someone singing a lower harmony at certain parts of the verse and it is so LOW and i cannot figure out who sings it but it almost sounds like dowoon so like DOWOON MAYBE VOCALS???? idk but yea it is one interesting harmony because usually day6 layer upwards and not downwards, but this really adds depth, like so much of it and it works for that portion. also the bridge is super cool cos it starts right after the chorus but the drums cut out but then they come back in so you focus on that and then as it's building up it abruptly just stops. and the music cuts out for a good 3 counts and you're so confused and then suddenly mini drum solo !!!!!! and it makes you anticipate and look forward to the chorus that much more because it just stops and you're left wanting so much more, especially because it echoes off at the end and DOESN'T RESOLVE NICELY. it makes you feel like the song isn't done or is too short. overall it's an incredible song and it really is just that good aaaaaa
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so let's love
woah. literally this song is so......idk anymore. it starts off super acoustic and just very mellow but it just suddenly cuts to what you think is the chorus but nO it's actually the pre-chorus so it feels like you false started and it's so mind boggling and suddenly instrument breaks everywhere and no proper second verse, we immediately get a pre-chorus and second chorus and then drum and electric guitar break ????? and then bridge which is CRAZY because we go from falsetto airy stuff to BELTING and suddenly it goes quiet and then INTENSIFIES WITH 2 LAYERS OF SINGING before quieting down and ending. and it really is such a fitting ending to the album because it encompasses the absolute chaos because there isn't a regular proper structure and yet it's beautiful and melodic and sings about soft things and it feels like a warm hug. basically 'chaos swallowed up in love' put into music. and it's so fitting and just works because this is just a day6 sound that is so. them. and it's what this album is all about, the strangeness of it all with something familiar, which is probably what makes it such a welcome listen.
edit
figured out why this song hits different: it’s desperate and sad as fk. hits you straight in the feels because it’s as if they’re yearning for something but it’s so out of reach that they just. stop. idk it really is just heart wrenching in every single way. someone compared it to ‘i need somebody’ but idk i feel like it’s same but different.
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overall, day6 never disappoints and it's once again an epic album from them. this is my first ot5 comeback as a myday so this album is super special to me and to have such a beautiful tracklist is amazing. it's incredible what day6 do every single time, they are insanely good at what they do and i'm so glad that i have their music.
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womenofcolor15 · 4 years
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Tekashi 6ix9ine Is BACK & Making Everyone BIG MAD, Including Billboard & Snoop Dogg! + Gets Help From Known Clout Chaser Celina Powell
  Rapper Tekashi 6ix9ine is ruffling feathers after being home from prison for a little over a month. Watch the "GOOBA" rapper come after Billboard and Snoop Dogg (with help from famed clout chaser Celina Powell) inside...
Rapper Tekashi 6ix9ine is causing controversy on social media just like he used to do before he was released from prison on racketeering charges last month. He was released on April 2nd and kept a pretty low profile on social media…until now.
On Monday, Billboard released the Hot 100 chart and Tekashi’s new single “GOOBA” debuted at the No. 3 spot, falling behind Ariana Grande and Justin Bieber’s new “Stuck With U,” which nabbed the No. 1 spot. Doja Cat’s “Say So Remix” featuring Nicki Minaj fell to No. 2.
Now, the “FEFE” rapper is taking aim at Billboard, calling them a fraud.
”You can buy No. 1’s on Billboard,” Tekashi said in an IG Video posted to his official account.
The 23-year-old rapper claims he and his crew have an “ongoing investigation” and they found out that Ariana supposedly purchased thousands of units with “six credit cards.” Well, it certainly wouldn't be the first time an artist did that.
”Explain how you buy 30,000 [units] with six credit cards,” he said in the video.
"@billboard CAUGHT CHEATING. @billboard YOU’RE A LIE AND CORRUPT. YOU GOT CAUGHT CHEATING AND THE WORLD WILL KNOW," he wrote in the caption of the video.
He also named dropped Jay-Z and Nicki Minaj in the video. Peep the clip below:
        View this post on Instagram
                  @billboard YOU’RE A LIE AND CORRUPT. YOU GOT CAUGHT CHEATING AND THE WORLD WILL KNOW.
A post shared by IM BACK AND THEY MAD (@6ix9ine) on May 18, 2020 at 10:46am PDT
  Tekashi then posted a picture of himself holding six credit cards, claiming he'll be taking the No. 1 spot next time.
          View this post on Instagram
                  Don’t worry we going #1 next time @billboard
A post shared by IM BACK AND THEY MAD (@6ix9ine) on May 18, 2020 at 4:53pm PDT
  And he hopped on IG Stories trashing Billboard:
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So, here's the thing.  If you've publicly trashed and discredited Billboard and labeled it as a fraud, why on earth would you still care about being on it, let alone spend your own money to be on it?
After accusing Ariana of purchasing units, she went on Instagram to respond to Tekashi's claims.
She wrote:
"thank u to everybody who supported this song, this cause and made this happen. we love uuuuu so much.  there’s so much to celebrate today. however, i would like to say a few things. anyone who knows me or has followed me for a while knows that numbers aren’t the driving force in anything i do. i’m grateful to sing. grateful to have people who want to listen. grateful to even be here at all. i didn’t have a number one for the first five years of my career and it didn’t upset me at all because from the bottom of my heart, music is everything to me. my fans are everything to me. i promise i couldn’t ask for another fucking thing. so with this celebration today, i would like to address a few things which i don’t usually do (i don’t give my energy to drama or strange accusations normally but this has gone a little too far)...my fans bought the song. JUSTIN’S fans bought the song. OUR fans bought this song (never more than four copies each, AS THE RULES STATE). they are ride or die motherfuckers and i thank god every day that i have them in my life. not just when they fight for us to win (even when i ask them not to as i did this week) but because they’re some of the greatest people i know. sales count for more than streams. u can not discredit this as hard as u try. to anybody that is displeased with their placement on the chart this week or who is spending their time racking their brain thinking of as many ways as they can to discredit hardworking women (and only the women for some reason.....), i ask u to take a moment to humble yourself. be grateful you’re even here. that people want to listen to u at all. it’s a blessed position to be in. i’ve had a lot of “almost number ones” in my career and i never said a goddamn thing because I FEEL GRATEFUL TO EVEN BE HERE. TO WANT TO BE HEARD AT ALL .... and you should feel that way too. congratulations to all my talented ass peers in the top ten this week. even number 3. and thank u to @billboard for this honor. and thank u to everybody who helped us raise a lot of money for a very important cause this week. love u all a lot."
Tekashi then responded to her, saying he wasn't coming for her. His beef is with Billboard.
"@arianagrande All I’m saying is I worked super hard to make it out of Brooklyn NY. I speak for the millions of kids who aren’t as fortunate as you. The millions who weren’t fortunate to be on T.V.. LIFE is REAL when you’re on welfare LIFE is REAL when you grow up with out a father. You don’t know what that is like. You say for me to be humble .... I don’t think you know what humble is.......... YOU ARE VERY TALENTED AND BEAUTIFUL GOD BLESS YOU. But you will NEVER UNDERSTAND MY PAIN"
  Justin also chimed in:
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Now, Billboard is addressing Tekashi's allegations. In a new article, they explained how this week's numbers were calculated, breaking down how they calculate streams and airplay. Billboard also responded to Tekashi's claims that Ariana's team purchased unites with "six credit cards."
"Billboard and Nielsen Music/MRC Data conducts audits on all sales reported with access to purchase-level detail, and works with data partners to recognize excessive bulk purchases and remove those units from the final sales total. All titles this week, as in every week, were put under the same scrutiny. (Billboard has reached out to Fame House/Bravado, retailer and reporter of director-to-consumer sales, for further comment about the sales data provided for 'Stuck With U.')"
You can read their full explaination here.
Now, for the Tekashi & Celina Powell vs. Snoop Dogg drama.
It started when Snoop continued to call Tekashi a rat and encouraged others to NOT support a "snitch" like him. That's when Tekashi got petty and decided to post a video of Snoop cheating on his wife, Shante Broadus, with famed clout chaser, Celina Powell.
  Tekashi 6ix9ine posts video of Snoop Dogg cheating on his wife #6ix9ine #SnoopDogg pic.twitter.com/Z6F16GL2jM
— Lil Mixtapez (@LilMixtapez) May 17, 2020
  The video seems to be old and one we posted a while back as well.
Tekashi also posted a video of himself watching a video of Suge Knight insinuating Snoop is an informant. Check it:
  Tekashi 69 tries to insinuate snoop dogg is a snitch pic.twitter.com/2MfTyFy5Qm
— The Internet Is Undefeated (@livekomik) May 16, 2020
  Snoop denied ever telling on Suge and said he and Suge are on "great terms."
        View this post on Instagram
                  #snoopdogg denies ever telling on Suge or anybody else. He also states he’s on good terms with #sugeknight now
A post shared by DJ Akademiks (@akademiks) on May 16, 2020 at 4:45am PDT
The Doggfather then posted (and deleted) a video warning Tekashi to stay in his lane:
  Snoop Dogg after 6ix9ine calls him a snitch
pic.twitter.com/GjSj6FRaCw
— RapCentury (@RapCentury_) May 16, 2020
  Before Snoop deleted the post, Tekashi hopped in his comments, pointing out that Snoop never denied there's paperwork that would confirm he cooperated with law enforcement. "Still hasn't even denied the paperwork. lEaVe Me AlOnE 'you're blowing my cover,'" he wrote.
Tekashi of all people calling somebody a snitch.  That's rich.
The rainbow haired rapper also posted a screenshot of Snoop allegedly threatening him in DMs.
          View this post on Instagram
                  #tekashi69 says #snoopdogg is threatening him in the DM. Does this count as snitching ?
A post shared by DJ Akademiks (@akademiks) on May 17, 2020 at 5:04pm PDT
  “Can someone tell the police snoop dog is threatening me [laughing emojis he mad,” he wrote in the caption of the screenshot. He has since deleted it.
Celina Powell then enters the group chat with a video of Snoop calling her. It's said she might have called him first and he was returning her call and that's how she got him on video:
"@snoopdogg I’m not interested in teaming up with you against @6ix9ine, stop calling me askin why I’m egging him on ... And showing me your dog @juelzbroadus so I don’t screenshot you, was a rookie mistake.. you know I stay with two phones #TEAM6IX9INE," she wrote in the caption.
Check it:
          View this post on Instagram
                  @snoopdogg I’m not interested in teaming up with you against @6ix9ine, stop calling me askin why I’m egging him on ... And showing me your dog @juelzbroadus so I don’t screenshot you, was a rookie mistake.. you know I stay with two phones #TEAM6IX9INE
A post shared by CELINA POWELL (@celinaapowellxo) on May 17, 2020 at 4:11pm PDT
  Snoop is likely kicking himself for even responding to Tekashi in the first place. Now, it seems he's turning the other cheek to the social media drama. He posted these memes after Celina's video was released:
          View this post on Instagram
                      A post shared by snoopdogg (@snoopdogg) on May 17, 2020 at 6:31pm PDT
            View this post on Instagram
                  Last dance
A post shared by snoopdogg (@snoopdogg) on May 17, 2020 at 9:10pm PDT
  As far as cheating goes, Snoop's wife, Shante, told her fans on Mother's Day not to come to her for relationship advice because she has taken her man back 81 times. Peep that post HERE.
This entire thing is ghetto...
Photo: Tekashi's IG
[Read More ...] source http://theybf.com/2020/05/19/tekashi-6ix9ine-is-back-making-everyone-big-mad-including-billboard-snoop-dogg-rapper-get
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ecotone99 · 4 years
Text
[HR] [SF] Spence - Chapter 3
Got Smiley’s stump sta’nched up some. Propped him up against the wall on the porch. Kinda hard to cuff up a stump, soz I latched his good hand to the cross foot, and ran the cuffs ‘round one of the porch posts. Had some old pain pills from a busted leg couple years back, and got him to wash those down with a little water. Thought I might have an argument, but ever’ time he started up, Spence would chirr and grin, and Smiley’d forget what he was gonna say.
Grabbed his keys, and then said ‘Ok, slick. You need to start tellin’ me about your merry bunch of assholes. Pretty sure we all know what yer after, so let’s us work on who and why. You really need a doc, and while Ima leanin’ towards lettin’ you live to count to 15 on what’s left for fingers and toes, Spence here is less forgivin’. I suggest you don’t fuck around for long.’
Here’s the tee ell dee arr, as they say on the Internets:
‘They’ still didn’t really have a name. Smiley called them ‘The Org.’ He (as well as the Stooges) was hired guns. From some company of private mercs, like them fellas over in the big sandbox. They had been assigned to ol’ Doc MFK for whatever it was he needed done, as well as security. The Org pays the bill. Smiley and company, he insisted, was just ‘doing a job.’ When the Stooges and ol’ doc MFK disappeared, word from on high came back, and Smiley and Sneaky been sent to follow-up, recon-like. The buzzard-what-wasn’t was their surveillance drone. Couldn’t directly track ol’ Spence since my tinkerin’, but they did get a general idea. Seems ol’ doc was real big on job security, and other than some general notes and reports for The Org, the details was all in his head. Ima thinkin’ his laptop has a few things they want, too. The Org wanted Spence so they could take him apart, and reverse engineer what Dr. McFuckknuckle hath wrought.
‘Just trying to make a buck, old man. Just following orders. The doctor says ‘bring me cats’, we go get cats. The doctor says ‘go get my run-away toy’, we go get it. The Org says jump, we ask how high.’
My rib-kickin’ foot was itchin’ for a workout. Spence chuffed. Smiley kinda jumped. ‘Leave him be fer now, Spence. He ain’t done talkin’ yet.’
Got Smiley to point out on a map just where his home-base was at. Was about 30 miles other side of town, up in the ridges and mountains. There was another 4 of his buddies there, and once they had Spence, they’d be told where to take ‘im, and take off, get paid, and be done.
The drone had been recalled for refuelin’, and some maintenance. Seems it had been flyin’ way over normal work-cycle, and had pancaked into the ground on the way home. Would be some time ‘fore it came back, if at all.
‘Spence, you keep an eye on our guest. Ima take care of some things.’ <chuff> and a smile. Smiley sat real still. ‘That’s a good fella, Spence.’
Dragged Sneaky and his parts over to the prowler. Popped open the trunk, and dumped him in. Jiggered the latch soz the emergency opener wouldn’t open from the inside. Up close you could tell it wasn’t really a statie prowler. The paint job was off some, and the stars on the doors was decals that was bubbled up in places. Good enough from a distance tho, I spoze.
Ima thinkin’ me and Spence might need to do our own little recon at ol’ doc’s lair. Mebbe get a handle on things, mebbe figger out a way to get The Org to leave us be. We can’t stay here, fer damn sure.
Walked back to the porch. Smiley was lookin’ pretty pale. ‘Ok son, here’s what’s gonna happen. Ima park you in the trunk over there with yer buddy. Gonna let folks know where you at, and they can come get ya. I’ll leave ya some water.’
Hauled him up, and walked (well, he was kinda hobblin’, seein’ as I had re-cuffed him, minus the porch post) over to the prowler, Spence playin’ sentry. As I was loadin’ him in there, I realized I done fucked up, ‘bout the same time he did. Sneaky’s hands mighta been Spencified, but his sidearm was still on his belt. Smiley grabbed at that, awkward like, and it brappppp-ed off a few thru the upraised lid. I stepped back and was gonna try slammin’ the lid on his head ... just as Spence jumped in the trunk. It was over real fast. Smiley ain’t in any hurry for a hospital now.
‘Thanks bud. I almost fucked that all up.’ Spence chuffed what ima thinkin’ was his version of ‘de nada, you old fart.’
Took Sneaky’s walkie, which needed a good wipe-down, off his harness. Made sure it was off. Smiley’s was kinda tore up. Tucked all Smiley’s dangly bits in, and slammed the trunk closed.
‘Brother Spence, time we got the hell outta Dodge.’
When Spence come outta the camper-shell, that whole plastic and aluminum frame had popped out whole. Got it wedged back in place. Wouldn’t be sliding open again anytime soon, but it did fit back in with a little persuasion.
I unrolled the arsenal, and grabbed a few choice bits. I had a half-assed idea, and needed those to make it work. Grabbed my pack. Stowed them choice bits, rolled the rest back up in the tarp, and stowed it again, and latched up the shell.
Opened up the cab door, and Spence hopped into the backseat. Went around to the drivers side, got in, and we headed down the dirt road to the highway.
Gonna kinda miss the old shack.
At the highway, I stopped, engine idling. I told ol’ Spence what I had in mind, while he set there with his chin on the seat-back. When I was done, he cocked his head at me, like he was ponderin’ on it. Then he give me a head bunt against my shoulder. He thought it was a good idea.
We turned towards town, as the sun settled down for the night, blazing reds and purples as it went.
Was dark when we hit town. We rolled on through. When we passed the store, Spence was tracking it as we went by. ‘Sorry brother, no chicken sammiches this time.’ He chuffed quietly. He don’t need to eat no more, but I think he still misses those.
Took us near an hour to get to the general area on that map, and leave the highway some before. Drove off-road towards the highlands. Finally ended up in a dry-wash that had decent enough ground to keep the truck from buryin’ to the axle. By my reckonin’, we was within a couple-three miles of the map markin’.
Took me about 45 minutes to take care of the prep for my plan. Spence was prowlin’ the perimeter, occasionally lookin’ back at me, and then goin’ back to sentry.
‘Ok bud. This part is done. I know you don’t need any grub, but Ima starvin’.’ Dug out the camp-stove, made up some stew, and took care of that problem. Spence watched me chew every bite. Yep, he misses food.
‘Sorry brother. I really am sorry.’ He come over where I was sittin’, stretched out, and put his head on my leg. I rubbed that ear, and he buzzed his purr, thumpin’ that lazy tail.
He’s still good company, my buddy Spence.
We just relaxed under that big night sky for a bit. Then it was time for the next part of the plan. We moved away from the truck, and settled in on a ridge above. Had my pack, my sawed-off, and one of the Stooges’ weapons handy, too.
I turned on Sneaky’s walkie. I figgered they must have repeaters of some kind, to make these useful at all up in the hills.
I keyed up the mike. ‘Breaker breaker. Can you chuckleheads hear me? This is the fella who you been fuckin’ with. Let’s us have a little heart-to-heart. I got somethin’ you want, and I wanna make a deal. You try to fuck with me anymore, and Ima ruin your day, so you come back to me, it best be the honcho what makes decisions, and not some flunky. Needs to be the man who don’t need to ask anyone for permission. You got 15 minutes.’
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lendoco · 6 years
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Arweave- How did I come to the decision to invest in this budding ICO project?
Meet Arweave, a new data storage blockchain protocol on a novel proof of access consensus mechanism, creating truly permanent data storage for the first time.
Wait, stop, am i going to write just another of those articles spoon feeding you all the info that is available elsewhere (which is normal for a well hyped project?) Of course not, that`s not how we roll. Go read it somewhere else, for example check this talented Airweave Medium article https://medium.com/@arweave/what-is-arweave-explain-like-im-five-425362144eb5. But come back to me for finishing this yummy piece!
As per usual, I am not loading you with technical details, that is readily available in Airweave lightpaper (sic!) , https://www.arweave.org/files/arweave-lightpaper.pdf which you can read (and you should) as a part of your due diligence. The lightpaper was a robust and fresh feature whereas you do not spend an hour reading a 40 pages manuscript - the creators nailed it here. We have all stuff to do and aint got all day. We should all thank the team for that, in my opinion.
By the way, check out the team - and the advisors, you will be pleased by the experience and enthusiam of the bunch- they are going for it and have an actual mission. How many projects have a mission and want you to be part of it? We are on a mission together with you guys, they say in their Telegram group that has exceeded the inspiring number of 23000 members at the time of writing which is a good sign of a hyped project. Who knows it can grow easily even more as they still have the time, yes i did hop on the bandwagon and joined their group, and guess whatm, I checked the Linkedin accounts-all legit and connected to some of Airweave advisors, thanks guys. So far so good.
The Airweave webpage https://www.arweave.org meets you with relaxing waves and the sun light falling through the water lighting up the countdown to the mainnet launch which is relaxing the investor as well. Fresh idea again, and how many fresh, not run of the mill ideas does the team have for us up their sleeve? Let us go on and make us busy ticking the boxes while we sniff or look out for the red flags (non seen by me).
Normally, it is a good rule of thumb in this sphere to invest in blockchain and protocols so definitely it ticks a box here. Why? Basically, blockchain and protocols soak up value from the dApps built on them, that is an axiom.
Hype? Rather. Airweave`s Telegram group is pleasantly crowded and that is without mention on Icodrops. If they do get mentioned which is likely, this would boost their hype even further. But again, the hype is substantial enough.
Something in their tech sounds profoundly right, it looks like a project worth of emerging, like dont we want to save the data without being ultra dependent on data storage owners and censoring governments, so kudos here for the team again!
I was impressed by their "Who controls the past controls the future: who controls the present controls the past." They say it is an explanation for a five year old. Oh. Not sure one will understand and I have never seen a five year old kid invest in blockchain and read ICOs but you never know, they say Vitalik Buterin was already playing with Excel and what not at a tender age of 4 so, let`s take it at the face value here as for sure Vitalik would understand that statement and probably even invest his ETH which he never gives away.
The guys are mentioned in at least 3 popular resources, though I would be careful with that metric, as anyone and their dog is nowadays published on Forbes, etc- remember Rentberry? Hug for everyone who fell for the article and invested. Never again wink, so this is something I notice though not count on much.
What is more interesting is that Airweave has already partners and EVEN dApps built, not bad at all and such early activity gives me hope.
What is the market? Data storage. Data data data tons of data, zillions of USD, obviously data only will keep growing as the mankind loves to produce data, hence the market is colossal, thats a no brainer. Good good.
Airweave comes from Techstars Berlin accelerator. Berlin, the place where creativity and sound pragmatic German engineering are combined. In very old times, engineers from Germany came to Unite Kingdom to help build infrastructure, now we can see that the company that was nurtured in Berlin is registered in London, so again we welcome German talent. We welcome it on UK soil, and hope you will benefit UK economy as we definitely need your taxes after Brexit. By the way, lyrics aside, always do check if a project has a legit company registration.
That`s about it for today folks, I hope i drew your attention for that project, as always DYOR, as you noticed i am inclined to think this one is going to be a hit but never stop reseфrchiтg yourself, go and read more about Airweave if you got seriously interested.
As always, this is not a financial advice, I am not your financial advisor. Traditionally, I write reviews only on the projects that I am about to invest in. So no astroturfing, no shilling, nothing toxic. Have a look at Airweave guys, this one took my attention by storm, and it feels invigorating, there must be still time to whitelist, do your thing, as always stay cool and show me you are alive and kicking in your comments, thank you.
submitted by /u/myshaka [link] [comments] Arweave- How did I come to the decision to invest in this budding ICO project? published first on https://icoholder.tumblr.com/
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tumblunni · 6 years
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AAAAAAUGH I am so unreasonably upset at how many continuity options just weren’t taken in oreshika 2, and thus how much of the story the english audience totally missed cos we never got the first game dubbed I’m reading thru this awesome LP/translation/summary here and its such a mind blown??
Seriously in oreshika 2/the one they pretend is 1 in english, this particular lady is just one of a million silent personalityless god options in a menu that barely gets more than a single sentence when you select her. All you can guess about her is that she’s vaguely some sort of comic relief lady who’s like.. vain or likes money or something? And says fox sound effects and stupid puns? But in the first game she was a main storyline boss and had A WHOLE ASS TRAGIC BACKSTORY and IS KISUTO’S STEPMOM Like seriously fuckin.. kisuto never even mentions her or talks to her in the second game??? And she never mentions her sad ass backstory?? And im just so mad I didnt appreciate her enough??
Her sad ass backstory i mentioned before when i first linked that LP but I didnt know all the full details then so i may as well start from scratch.
Okay so like.. Kisuto’s role in the first game is still an assistant character, but kind of a mysterious one. He appears as a ghost and says that he’s been magically trapped by the big bad villain dood, and needs your help to get free. And then he’s still as sassy as he was in oreshika 2 but he’s like.. weirdly more mean? he tries to act all assistant but he’s oddly flippant about other people’s suffering and also seems to know more than he should. And then the big twist is that KISUTO IS THE VILLAIN OF THIS GAME! Like wtf thats one way the undubbedness actually paid off, it was double unexpected when I knew him as the sassy helpful onii-chan from the sequel. And I know Seimei in the sequel is still quite a snarkman and quite sympathetic, but like he’s not.. comical? Kisuto as a villain is WAY more cool cos he is! There’s no seriousness in this man’s soul! Even as he’s talking about his tragic sadness he’s doing it in the middle of like.. a fuckin booty dance striptease. With cha cha music. I wish I was joking! Cos you see the fakeout villain guy who looked like some generic fugly cyclops ogre was actually kisuto in disguise, and then he friggin pops out of the guy’s mouth and it should be scary but LITERALLY A BOOTY DANCE STRIPTEASE. WHERE THE UNDIES ARE A WHOLE CYCLOPS. Its like ‘oh no maybe we didnt really kill the boss, he’s getting up’ and then... booty dance. And kisuto pops out. And it was a costume. And what is happening. And like its really confusing cos maybe it was a costume or maybe he was literally eaten by the cyclops and controlling it from the inside?? Cos somehow by defeating the cyclops we unsealed his true power and played right into his hands. And he monologues this whole thing in sassy gyaru style while doing naked supermodel poses, and then hops into a portal while waving sassy bye byes to the audience he just trolled to death Also he is VERY JUSTIFIED AS A VILLAIN, HOLY FUCK! Cos it turns out his motive is because YOUR FAMILY KILLED HIS FAMILY! Seriously, i can see why the japanese fandom is all ‘oreshika 1 forever!’, cos in a lot of ways it seems more like its the sequel?? oreshika 2 goes comparatively standard and formulaic with its premise, like as much as you can do when your premise is so weird. Your clan is JUST a clan that’s been cursed, whereas the first game mixed up your expectations and had this reveal that your ancesters were apparantly actually evil. Also it let you actually play as the ancestors for a brief prologue before the curse happened, which is super neat! Shame though that your first character is randomized based on birthday instead of being customizeable. But I mean oreshika 2 didnt even have birthdays! And also similar for a lot of other things! Like your assistant is just an assistant, whereas i’ve gone into oreshika 1 already knowing that your assistant is either gonna be revealed as a goddess or become a goddess somehow. Tho honestly the reveal of first meeting her in oreshika 2 was kinda great from the perspective of a newbie to the franchise! you spend the whole game only hearing of her second hand and its just ‘she’s the boss of the gods’ and you expect her to be all elegant and serious. But then when you finally meet her she’s this bombastic goofy nerd with cute lil glasses and an ahoge hairstyle and she’s like ‘lets get this party started!’ and poofs up her magic to save the day and also LETS YOU MEET WITH YOUR FIRST CHARACTER FOR A BRIEF MOMENT FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE THE START OF THE GAME. I cried so much!! i wasnt expecting the game to have even saved his data! Its just a quick cutscene where his ghost helps super goddess lady break seimei’s barrier spell, but it was still so damn climactic and great. man I need to talk more about my playthru soon but i have so many screenshots to transfer, lol!
ANYWAY IM GOING WILDLY OFFTOPIC COS IM KINDA DELIRIOUS WITH ILLNESS AND ALSO ORESHIKA HYPE
so where this boss fox lady comes in is that her story is like a ‘be careful what you wish for’ thing. Her prayer for good luck was answered by an asshole god who decided to troll her with everything she wanted, but in a jerkass genie way. She became rich and found a husband, but he was an asshole who robbed her and left her even poorer than before. And then she committed suicide. But where kisuto comes in is that she’d adopted this mysterious baby she found at a forest shrine. And then when she’d got backstabbed by this horrible husband and was left without enough money to take care of her baby, she committed a murder suicide and took him with her so he wouldnt suffer. or, at least, that’s what she thought. Cos it turns out the kid was a baby demigod of some sort, and he cursed her into an oni as revenge, and now she’s stuck here weeping for what she did for the rest of eternity and wanting her baby back :( And like we still have the mystery of who kisuto’s biological parents were, and what happened to lead to him being abandoned in the first place. like, was the protagonist clan’s ancestor really evil or is it a misunderstanding? And is there any way we can resolve this peacefully? Well, I’m assuming so, since Kisuto is your totally non evil assistant guy in the sequel. Though I mean the sequel clan could be a totally different clan, its not very likely this poor lineage would get hit by the same curse twice in a hundred years! He doesnt really have any reason to be evil with anyone else but those assholes who orphaned him. Seriously if it really is true that prologue man and prologue woman did it, I am so on Kisuto’s side here! even if its dumb to take revenge on innocent children who had no part in the crime. Also I feel really sad for foxmom. Like I mean kisuto doesn’t have to be comfortable around her or forgive her when she friggin tried to drown him as a 1 year old. But like its not really her fault either, she was suffering and suicidal and thought she was keeping her kid from suffering too. She was just really mentally ill and needed some help, not a hundred years of being trapped as a weeping ghost werewolf thing. And really all she wants is to see that kisuto actually did escape, and grew up, and he’s okay and even if she knows it would be impossible to accept the apology she wants to say it anyway. Even if this poor kid is off being a villain, at least he;s a happy and healthy villain! seriously why dont you give me a damn dialogue option to tell her kisuto is her sonnnn
this game is so good and im so sad its not get dubbed and im so damn tired and ill and im rambling and ok bye thenk u oreshika for ease my pain by giving me mroe pain for fictional characters SERIOUSLY POOR VILLAIN KID AND FOX MOMMMM
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