#so I thought I'd tweak it and air it out for this challenge instead! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kaepop-trash · 2 years

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Milanese Holiday

I guess the name gives away the partial inspiration for this fic. This is late but I finished it in time for Couture Week(what I really wished to centre this plot around). Yes, I'm aware that Jaehyun didn't go for Milan fashion week, just a ready-to-wear show, but this is fiction and I'm going for the idea that has the most potential. Also tweaked some general details of how fashion week works. If there are any readers here interested in fashion, just look the other way. This is just a fun little fic.

This is very fragmented and it's intentional. I'm trying something new so I'm sorry if it feels clumsy. I know I could have made him an idol instead of an actor, but I took a vow years ago to never write idol aus.

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Summary: Inserting oneself back into society after a year’s absence was tough enough. Doing it when you despised everything about it made the challenge borderline herculean. With a past she wanted so desperately to erase, she perhaps had no intention of catching the eye of one of the many celebrities that littered the streets during fashion week. But things have a way of working out and sometimes the most unexpected bump-ins yield the most magnificent outcome.

Warnings: Smut, OC is rude, Jaehyun has a degradation kink if you squint so he likes it, Hints of loser Jaehyun, Fingering, Dirty talking, Hint of asphyxiation, Mentions of privilege, Name Dropping Luxury Brands.

WC: 7.3k

(Y/N) couldn't help her amusement as she walked up to the full breakfast table. "What?" She asked the girls who looked at each other with absolute bewilderment. "I thought you'd be happy to see me." She announced, taking off her sunglasses once a waiter arrived with an extra chair for her. She kept the air of indifference, the one she’d carefully prepared for this week. Her smile was relaxed and she painstakingly crafted a stance that was not defensive. It seemed to work, the most meddlesome of the girls looked at each other with confused looks.

"We are." Chaeyong, the worst of them, was quick to speak, "We just didn't expect you to be here." She looked to the others but none made the move to speak up for her.

"Yeah, but I missed New York last year, you know? If I didn't come to Milan I'd have nothing to wear for the rest of the season." She answered with ease, having come up with all her responses on the flight.

Yunjin, a new face in the crowd, was the first to lean in towards her once she sat down, "The more the merrier obviously." She spoke with glee, "We're going for Chanel after breakfast. You should come along!" She told her. "Jen will be there and she always gets first pick."

(Y/N) smiled at the table, "No thanks. Chanel hasn't been doing it for me these past few seasons."

"Since you have your own company now, you could use some of their pieces, don’t you think." One of Chaeyong's friends told her, "Jen claims the power suits really make a difference."

"Well, unlike Jen, I don't need to dress like a man to let employees my know who’s in charge." (Y/N) shrugged, failing to hide the quirk of her lips when the table went silent. "I'm here for Valentino tomorrow obviously, maybe Dior too right after if I haven't had too much fun at the parties tomorrow." She informed them of her plans, an afterthought making her turn to the younger girl from before. "You can come, if you like."

Yunjin looked understandably caught off-guard, turning to give the table a nervous look over. It was easy to tell that it was the girl's first time at fashion week. It made (Y/N) almost feel bad for how unprepared she was. If she was considering the feelings of any of the women on the table, she had far too much to learn. But her same naivety also made her the weakest link, (Y/N) needed to survive this week.

It was precisely because it was her first time that the girl predictably nodded, "I'd love that so much, (Y/N). Especially Dior." She said with giddy delight.

(Y/N) smiled at the genuine gratitude on the girl’s face. If it was fake then she was impressed by the convincing act. She looked the girl over once with expert eyes.

"You have the body for Dior." She hummed, coming to a decision. "I'll tell you what." She looked up with her own genuine smile, "If you will volunteer to keep me in check at tonight’s afterparty then we can do Dior too." This time she didn't look to the other girls before nodding.

With a satisfied smile, (Y/N) stood up from the table. "It was nice catching up. Have fun at the show, girls." She waved at them, walking away without eating anything.

After walking around to catch up on some of the places she hadn't seen in a while, (Y/N) finally gave into her stomach. Having skipped breakfast for the sake of making an exit left her famished and she found herself crawling into the first café she spotted.

To say she was in a bad mood was an understatement. When she had learned the ways of the world she inhabited, (Y/N) had learned that Paris was for haute couture while New York had the best ready-to-wear lines. Milan had never fit into her carefully planned equation, so when she decided to come this time she knew that she would not be in friendly company. But after a terrible year, showing her face in public was her own small rebellion. Milan just happened to be the first show of this season.

Her mood had not been helped at all when she saw Chaeyong first thing in the morning. The thought was enough to make her frown as she stood in line to place an order.

She had been busy checking her emails on her phone for a while, looking up only when she realised that the line had abruptly stopped. With earphones in to avoid having to listen to the loud chatter in the cafe, she didn't hear the commotion.

At first her eyes met the barista on the other side of the counter, the boy's entertained smile growing wider when she did. Then when he turned, she saw the source of his amusement.

The girl who was at the top of the line had turned around to speak to the man behind her. Speaking through a hand on her mouth, she looked to be in shock as she asked the man for a picture.

The barista mumbled to the girl, even gesturing her to hurry but she was too enthralled to pick up on the sign. First giving the boy a confused look before turning to the man who (Y/N) still couldn't see.

"He's telling you to order or move out of the line." (Y/N) used her rudimentary understanding of Italian and related languages to make an educated guess. "We all have places to be." She tried not to sound too harsh, pointing behind her at all the people waiting.

The girl didn't move, pursing her lips and taking another infuriating moment before she pointed her phone at herself to take the picture with the guy.

The man turned to (Y/N) and she met his gaze, seeing his apologetic look only seemed to cement her irritation. So she did what she always did when her acquaintances started conversations she did not like— she dipped her head back down to her focus on her phone.

After several moments, she heard shuffling and looked up to see the girl finally gone. Once the man shuffled away, (Y/N) let out a sigh that made the barista laugh. It caught the man's attention as he retreated.

Once she finished placing her order she turned to look for a place to sit only to see the man waiting for his own order at the side.

He smiled at her politely, "I'm sorry about the hold up." He told her, looking away with a sheepish grimace.

"I'm not in a hurry to be anywhere and you weren't the person holding up the line." She responded, rather unwilling to have this conversation.

"Yes but I still feel responsible." He added with a little more insistence in his volume when she didn't turn to him.

On her part she just hummed, using this time to at least scan for a seat. "Why? Are you controlling her mind?" She asked absentmindedly. The man scoffed under his breath but didn’t answer the question.

"There is no place to sit. I already checked." He said instead, voice clipped. "Fashion week can get busy I guess."

This time she turned to look at him, her gaze immediately doing a valiant job at scanning this man. She eyed each item he wore, lips quirking in amusement.

"Yes it can." She told him, "Prada, I assume?" She questioned without any need for an answer. Even the little hat he wore on his head had the familiar triangle logo, it was like he had just walked off the ready-to-wear runway.

The thought made her look him over once again, this time looking at the man instead of his clothes. He could have easily walked off the runway, she concluded.

Meeting his gaze again, the man made no show of being discomfitted by her repeated scrutiny. She was almost impressed, then he opened his mouth.

"I'm Jaehyun, by the way." He told her, reaching a hand out.

"That's great." She told him, her foot itching to tap to channel her impatience— a habit even the most prestigious finishing school couldn't completely berate out of her. "If you don't mind, Mr. Jaehyun–" She said with a clumsy pause in between when she couldn’t decide what to call him.

"Just Jaehyun is fine." He interuppted with a leisurely smile.

She wasn't used to people just giving their first names. In her world, it was your family name that carried weight. The thought was enough to sour her already curdled mood a little further. But it almost made her put two and two together. The man must have been some kind of celebrity, those were the people who didn’t need their last name. He had the face for it for sure.

Her saving grace came in the form of her spotting a cup being placed on the counter.

"I think your order is done." She pointed, "And so is mine." She smiled when she saw the brioche she ordered arrive. Her stomach growled as if to remind her of why she needed to end this conversation.

So close to throwing all ounces of etiquette into the wind, she turned away from the man completely to reach for the steaming pastry wrapped in a piece of newspaper.

"It was nice meeting you," She said to be cordial, "Enjoy your first fashion week." She gave him a quick smile, turning with her coffee and bread to go enjoy it somewhere with a view.

"How do you know it's my first time?" He asked and this time she had to scoff audibly.

"Call it a hunch." She shrugged, unconsciously looking up to his hat one last time before making her way towards the exit with her smile still lingering.

(Y/N) had managed to spend all afternoon walking around the city. Milan, to her, was a fascinating place because it still held the quaint charm of a medium European town while also having a cosmopolitan flair. Fashion week meant the streets buzzed with tourists and locals alike. Like any city during fashion week, there was a tantalizing electricity in the air that never failed to enliven her. It was probably the same energy that kept her going all morning till the building heat of the afternoon forced her into Milan's famed shopping arcade.

As she left one of the many stores, she bumped into Yunjin after her Chanel show. When the girl asked (Y/N) if she wanted company shopping she accepted, happy to have some company on this dreadfully lonely trip. After shopping at a few stores, Yunjin suggested they go into the Prada store.

(Y/N) lingered on the ground floor while Yunjin went to look for clothes. While scanning the various sunglasses and other accessories, her gaze fell on a familiar hat. Mostly giving into curiosity, she walked towards the display. Eyeing all the variations of the same style, she concluded that the orange striped one was the least offensive out of them all. But her fingers inched towards the black one she'd already been acquainted with.

With an amused smile, she lifted the object of the wooden peg it hung on, turning to the nearest mirror and putting it on her head. That one particular hat seemed to be too large, falling over her eyes so she had to tilt her head back just to get a look.

"Ridiculous." She grinned at her reflection, finding humour in how out of place the accessory looked on her. Trying to adjust the angle did nothing and she had to laugh.

Being as silent as stores like this tended to be, (Y/N) jerked at the sound of a particularly loud gasp. When she turned to the source, who she saw instead made her fingers slip from the top of the hat so it came back down against her brows.

It was the man from the cafe earlier. She was sure because he was in the same outfit as before, including the ridiculous hat that was on his head— both their heads in this instance. A person walked up to him, once again asking for a picture. He smiled and nodded, saying something cordial. Briefly his gaze wandered only to look at her, eyes drawing up to her head as his lips split into a grin.

That was all she needed to nosedive towards the entrance, walking rapidly as her face seemed to be getting warmer and warmer.

"Miss!" An urgent voice made her stop, looking up to see the doorman give her a nervous look. She gave the man a questioning look and he turned to look at the top of her head.

"The hat, Miss." He pointed a gloved hand, looking deeply uncomfortable.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Her face coloured a deeper shade of embarrassment, reaching up to take the thing off and hand it to the man. She was going to leave but another thought made her pause. "Could you please let the friend I came in with know that I left for the hotel? I'm not feeling too well." She told him and to her great relief he seemed to nod, not thinking of her to be a thief.

As she walked back to the hotel, she vowed that this would be her last fashion week in this city.

(Y/N) had walked into the after party the next evening after two good shows. Of course she saw things she liked for the coming season. But what was more important was that she achieved what she came here to do.

People saw her and they talked. Most, if not all, were probably speculative or unkind things that she was glad to not be in the earshot of. Irrespective, they knew that she wasn't hiding because she had nothing to be ashamed of.

Something she'd hopefully come to believe one of these days.

It was exhausting to have to put herself out there like this. Especially when these were the same people she felt the need to slink away from more than a year ago.

She had never liked this world. For all the perks of being wealthy, most other wealthy people had an innate need to be unpleasant. And after the year she had, she knew that they held no love for her either. Moments like this made her wish she could stay off the grid forever. But that wasn't one of the luxuries she could afford.

A tap on her shoulder distracted her from her thoughts. Before she could even turn around completely, she was embraced in a bone-crushing hug.

"You were the last person I expected to see here." Tiffany said with unprecedented glee in her voice. Pulling back she held (Y/N) at arm's length to look her over.

"Why is everyone acting like me, being in Italy is a crime?" She asked, too happy to see her childhood friend to have any real bite in her words.

Tiffany gave her a perplexed look before pursing her lips, "I don't really care about what your friends think." She stated, as straightforward as she had always been.

"They aren't my friends." (Y/N) added, practically snapping in defense at the word.

"But," She continued without care, "I just didn't think you'd be here after what happened." She winced, tiptoeing around the topic.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, "People get cheated on all the time. I'll be fine."

"Yeah, but it can't be easy. Not when you had to find out through tabloids." She patted her arm. Tiffany was partially right, but not why she thought.

It wasn't easy to find out she was being cheated on so publically, it was the closest she'd ever come to killing a person in cold blood. It wasn't because she had ever really cared for Sehun, nonetheless loved him.

They were a couple of convenience. Sehun needed to prove to his grandfather that he was ready to be a man and take on responsibility for some aspects of their business. And (Y/N) needed to be accepted into the generational wealth circles so her family finally "made it".

When Sehun so publicly cheated on her, what he did was worse than breaking her heart. He tarnished her carefully curated reputation in minutes. And she could do nothing but fall off the face of the earth to recover.

"Anyway. I'm sorry for bringing this up. How have you been?" Tiffany cut through her thoughts.

"Same old. I'm slowly working on taking over the business, keeping busy. How are you? Still working at Max Mara?"

"Prada, for now. They wanted to reimagine their outerwear collection so I was offered the big bucks." She said with the pride of a self-made woman.

"So you're the reason they have so much leather in their collection this time." (Y/N) hummed, recalling the brief glance she caught at the store yesterday. The memory made her shift and adjust her posture, still a little mortified.

"Among other things. I assume you had a busy day today." Tiffany smiled, well acquainted with her adamant preferences. "Leaving tomorrow?"

"No, I'm not going home yet. I'm going to Sestri Levante from here, I could use the vacation."

"You do need the vacation." Tiffany agreed, "You have a resting scowl face now." She snorted when (Y/N) shoved at her lightly for the slight.

"That's how I get shit done at work. Nothing works better than a solid look of disapproval." She grinned when Tiffany laughed.

"I feel like you've been talking to my boss. Speaking of," She raised herself on her tiptoes to scan the room. "I need to go find him, he asked me to get him sparkling water half an hour ago. He says he feels left out when the people around him have glasses in their hands." She grimaced, dropping back to her height.

(Y/N) found the idea novel, "Sparkling water?" She looked around the room and laughed. "Your going to make the bartender do a double turn. Your boss doesn't drink?" She asked mostly because of how ludicrous the idea was to her.

Tiffany raised a brow, tapping her index finger against her nose with a knowing look.

"Oh, right. Of course." (Y/N) scoffed, "Well in that case don't keep the man waiting."

(Y/N) bumped into a few other people as she walked around the room, all of them people she only knew in passing. She tried to look for Tiffany a few times but the dim lights and crowd made it an impossible challenge.

She was almost relieved when she bumped into Yunjin, and to her credit the girl looked happy to see her. She was one of the better ones, (Y/N) had concluded after the past two days. She offered to introduce her to some of her friends who were around.

While grateful, (Y/N) quickly felt her age among the young people. While listening to their excited chatter and party plans after the week was over, (Y/N) thought she saw a familiar face in the crowd.

The second time she had the opening to look away from the circle, she was sure it was the actor from yesterday. He was at the party and talking to the PR director of Zegna. The director who looked pleased to be speaking to him.

(Y/N) knew her gaze was beginning to overstay its welcome, but it was hard to look away from him. It was like she was seeing the man with a renewed clarity when she observed him from the safety of a distance. The way his hair was styled, with a deliberate strand loose from his pushed back locks, and the lopsided grin that showed off his dimples, were all things she was suddenly taking a moment to appreciate. She blamed the champagne bubbling in her stomach.

The nail on her index finger tapped against her glass, eyes still in no hurry to look away. Then he turned to look and suddenly her gaze did find a semblance of shame, snapping back to the conversation to feign interest.

She ignored the burn that flushed down her neck to her chest upon being caught, blaming it on the champagne as well. The flimsy excuse did not ease her very real embarrassment though. She had to excuse herself to get a well-earned drink of water.

While gulping down the water with her elbow still leaned against the bar, the sound of approaching footsteps didn't escape her notice. Once her bottle was empty, she lowered her head, having nowhere to hide.

"I never caught your name." The actor asked with an affable smile.

"I never gave it to you." She spoke, one foot pointed to an escape already.

"I'm Jaehyun." He said with a grin that made her stop to really see his face. It was tragic. He was even more attractive when his attention was on her.

"You mentioned that the other day." She responded.

"I wasn't sure you'd remember."

"I didn't." She smiled, almost indulging in the way his smile faltered momentarily.

Jaehyun took a step closer, the proximity intimate enough for her to get a whiff of his perfume, like linen and ripe lemons. "I think your friend there is looking at you." He pointed his gaze behind her.

She took the opportunity to turn away from him, seeing Yunjin looking towards them. (Y/N) smiled, "I'll wager that she's actually looking at you." She stated, tilting her head to observe him from the corner of his gaze.

Irrespective of who she was looking at, the act reminded (Y/N) that she could not be seen with this man. She could already hear the whispers that would go around. How people would assume that her fraternising with some celebrity was revenge for her ex doing the same a year ago. (Y/N) had cultivated a thick skin over the years, but being called a hypocrite was something she could not bear.

"I should go see in case she wants something." She explained, telling herself that leaving unannounced would have been the better choice.

She stepped away quickly, breath catching in her throat when his hand grabbed her wrist.

"Wait–" He said urgently. She turned around, brows furrowed in a way that made her look irate. "Sorry." He dropped her hand immediately like it burned him. "I just wanted to know your name." He fumbled over his words, looking away from her gaze to the floor.

She had met celebrities of all ranges of importance before. But never one that was hesitant, not in the genuine way that the one in front of her seemed to be.

"(Y/N)." She caved, too distracted by the flush in his cheeks to realise that she probably shouldn't have. To avoid mulling over it, she made a swift escape. Only at a distance did she exhale.

Despite the curiosity in Yunjin's eyes, she didn't ask (Y/N) anything about Jaehyun. A part of her wanted her to, just so she could squash any rumours at their roots. The other part, the one reaching for another glass of champagne, wanted to hold off. Just in case.

She had managed to engage Yunjin in a conversation about the skiing trip with her family that she had lined up right after this week. In between the conversation, one of the boys Yunjin had introduced earlier came up to join in. His first few interruptions of the girl's excited narration of her plans could be brushed off as wanting to be included. The seventh time he interrupted Yunjin, (Y/N) felt her patience frizzle away.

"Do you part-time as a ski instructor?" She asked, her frown in full display. The boy smirked in a way that only furthered her irritation.

"I've just been skiing on those slopes every summer since I was born. It's just some friendly advice." He shrugged.

"What a sight that must have been. An infant on ski blades just cruising down." (Y/N) shrugged back, using the same tone he did when speaking to her. Yunjin snorted, bringing her glass up to drink in an effort to distract from it.

The boy frowned, "No, that wasn't what I meant." He huffed under his breath, his pedigree fighting hard to maintain his facade.

"Yunjin has been skiing since she was a toddler, weren't you?" She looked away from the guy before he could clarify himself further. "You can do it with your eyes closed, if I recall correctly." She pointed her glass at her.

Yunjin didn't say anything, but her smile was a grateful one for the compliment.

"All I meant to say was–" He tried to add. (Y/N) put all of her acquired pedigree into not rolling her eyes, instead compromising by just making an excuse to free both of them from any further of the boy's words.

Her social sabbatical had made her forget how despicable some of these people could be. Coming back to this world felt less like riding a bike and more like being strapped to the hood of a car going at maximum speed.

The whiplash made her take a step aside, weaving through the crowds to find a moment to take a much needed breath. She tried looking for Tiffany to have an excuse to go to the after-afterparties the staff usually had. They were much more fun and with more strangers who didn't know her. But after a quick round she surmised that her friend had probably already left.

Considering it to be a sign from the heavens, (Y/N) thought it was a good time for her to go back to the hotel. Her feet ached in her new heels and she decided to stick to the very periphery of the room to make her walk across to the entrance as quickly as possible.

While crossing a line of low sofas, she noticed Jung Jaehyun again.

"No more autographs to sign?" She spoke before she could really think about it. The words were probably sounded ruder than she wanted them to be, and she wondered why she desired his attention at all. Especially because she was ready to finally finish this awful trip.

Jaehyun looked up and even in the dim lights, she could see the flush on his cheeks and the daze in his eyes.

He gave her a tipsy smile, "I've clocked out for the day. Thankfully, everybody here is too famous or affluent to really ask." He didn't sound at all sarcastic, truly grateful in fact.

"You're the first celebrity I've met who doesn't like attention." She scoffed.

"Of course I like attention." He gave her a deeply earnest look, something she had no experience to be prepared for. "I'm an actor. We all love attention, otherwise we wouldn't put ourselves out there for an applause. I just don't need other people to tell me my worth."

When he finally looked away, she felt herself let out her bated breath. His words were just so honest, without motive or pretense. It left her feeling out of depth and made her oncoming words downright stupid.

"So you're still in the 'firsts' category celebrities for me." She scoffed, trying to mask how deeply uncomfortable she felt by making a joke at his expense.

"I'm honoured." The words were clipped, "But I'm not a celebrity. I'm just an actor. At least I hope so." He looked to his shoes— Prada, like the rest of his outfit.

"Do they make you dress like a display mannequin or is that a choice?" She asked, "Don't mind me asking."

Jaehyun grinned and the gesture filled her with culpable relief. Whatever moment she'd caught him in seemed to be passing.

"It's an implied condition mostly. They need to show off their collection." He tugged at the turtleneck collar, the thing in no way comfortable in the middle of a continent wide heatwave.

"So a mannequin." She crossed her arms, turning to face him but still keeping her distance out of decency. And because seeing him from a distance was the easiest way to appreciate his features.

"Yes, I guess that's what it is." He nodded, a small laugh of surrender leaving his lips.

"It's a nice sweater." She added. Her hand raised, stopping when she realised it was to run her fingers over the material, a conditioned habit when she looked at clothes. Jaehyun caught the way she closed her fist, retreating her hands back to her side.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" He asked, looking up with steely resolve.

The way he looked at her made her throat go dry. Or maybe it was the champagne. She wasn't sure, but it wasn't like it mattered. Whether she needed to get away from him or needed a glass of water, she knew she had to walk away.

"Going to Sestri Levante." She gave him a clipped smile, "It's a small town outsi–"

"I know what it is, (Y/N)." He interjected, standing up.

She should have wondered if she'd offended the man. Instead she replayed the way her name sounded on his tongue.

"Right." She nodded, looking away from his intense gaze, her voice losing any bite in the face of confrontation. "I'm well overdue on a vacation."

He didn't speak and though the silence barely stretched, she looked up to him. He flexed his jaw when she did, clearly a little offended. "I hope you have fun."

"I'll try my best."

"What are you doing now?" He asked next, a loaded question with layers of possibilities. Maybe it was the champagne, or the way he looked at her, but she decided to pick the possibility that was perhaps the most risky.

"Why don't you tell me?"

(Y/N) bit down on her bottom lip when he pressed her back against the marble wall, the low back of her dress only making the cold stone feel worse. He pressed himself closer to her next.

The cloakroom, as she had expected, was unmanned and empty in peak summer. It was decidedly the perfect place to take in the way Jaehyun currently looked at her.

Close up, he was somehow more gorgeous than she previously allowed herself to believe. The pursed smile on his lips kept the ghost of his dimples embedded in his cheeks, his eyes dreamy yet still vigilant as they observed her right back.

"I thought the hat from the afternoon was a bad personal decision." She tried to curb her smile, looking up at the smug grin that was forming on his lips, "But now I know that the mistake actually happened whenever you decide this haircut was right for you." She dared to card her fingers into his hair, holding the strands in between with a playful smile on her lips.

He said nothing in response at first, hand coming up to place over hers. His thumb brushed over her knuckles gently before he wrapped his fingers over her entire hand.

"So honest, (Y/N). Tell me, are you the shy kind or are you just waiting for me to do something?" His words snapped her out of her thoughts. When she looked to him, he wasn't looking at her eyes but mirroring her gaze instead. Her gaze that was, she only just realised, focused on her lips.

"Do what?" She couldn't help the way her lips twitched, biting down on the inside of her cheek when he looked up with a raise of his brow that dared her to laugh.

"You haven't shied away from most of the things you say with so much disregard. So I assume you're telling yourself that it'll be easier for you to rationalise this later if you don't say it."

This time (Y/N) wasn't smiling, a little too caught off-guard by the surgical accuracy of his assessment.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I thought you were interested in knowing more about Sestri Levante." She bit back a smile, "It's a quiet and quaint town."

Jaehyun smiled and this time she let herself admit without condition that he was an irresistibly attractive man.

"Sounds like a boring place for a city girl like you." He mused, "But I'm sure you will have company to entertain you."

(Y/N)'s head rested against the wall when Jaehyun began to trace his fingers up her thigh. Each inch higher made her breath hitch higher too, the reaction no doubt being the thing that made him grin with so much pleasure.

"I'm the best company I can have." She answered, "No need to pretend to be anything else when I'm not around her." Her words, despite being honest, were out of focus.

"That's something you and I have in common, then." His lips brushed over her cheeks.

(Y/N) thought she felt the room spinning as Jaehyun lifted her onto the table beside them. She gasped at the sudden action, a giggle leaving her the next moment from her shock.

"Is that why you were trying it on at the store?" He raised a brow. The words were unexpected and he seemed to catch her confusion. "The bucket hat. I saw you try it on. Just wondering if you're looking to make a bad personal decision, too." His fingers slid up her knees.

"I was being adventurous." She huffed, already being too breathless to be proper. "Something you should hurry up with. I'm a very impatient woman." She looked at him through dropping lids.

"I've heard that most rich girls like you are." He scoffed. She wanted to respond immediately but she was distracted by his fingers. Her fingers squeezed his shoulder as he began to pull her dress higher.

"Rich girls like me usually don't have to cajole men, you see. So we can say what we really want to." She lied, not really focused on her own words. Not when she felt his nails brush against the thin lace of her panties.

That was enough to shut her up, no longer interested in keeping up any charade or invisible dance. His fingers teased her with practised proficiency, something that became easy to give into. Slowly her mind sank into a thick feeling like she'd been dipped into honey. With each stroke her jaw only fell lower, lips parting further.

She became so enraptured that when he slowed down, an involuntary whine of protest left her. It made her eyes shoot open, meeting Jaehyun's wide-eyed shock that turned into smug victory shortly after.

"Are you usually this quiet when someone is finger banging you or are you that afraid of being seen with me?" He asked, pressing his thumb against her clit like he was on a path of vengeance. "Just imagine the headlines, (Y/N)." A particularly devious curl of his fingers made her groan, head falling back as her teeth clenched down tighter on her lips. "Spoiled little heiress spotted with some actor."

The words made her spine flinch in indignation, eyes forcing open to look at him. With a searing glare, she dragged her thumb down from his shoulder, pressing the pad down on the hollow of his throat till he choked on his own breath.

"I'm a lot of things," She gasped as he slowly pulled his fingers out of her, "But I'm not spoiled." She spoke through gritted teeth, letting out her breath when he was out till his nails, the blunt tips scratching right at her entrance. "My parents had nothing till I was twelve. Something my peers won't ever let me forget. So I'm not going to sit here and listen to some pretty face no-name actor tell me about privilege. Not while he's getting his Prada sleeves soaked with my cunt." She looked down, eyeing the dark patch on the material that had been rubbing against her all this time.

When she looked up, he was watching her with a furrow in her brows. A part of her was suddenly nervous that he'd stop and despite all the efforts she made to remind herself that she needed to walk out with her dignity, that part seemed to be getting louder.

"I want to fuck you so bad." He groaned, his cheeks turning pink from his own admission. Her chest erupted into a fit, not prepared for the dichotomy between his audacious confession and his shy blush.

Before she could look away, he slammed her fingers right back into her. The unexpected jolt made a wretched moan reverberate off her tongue. She leaned over to bite down on his shoulder, resorting to clench harder and harder as she felt her orgasm building with each stroke against her walls.

"I want to fuck you till you're screaming." He groaned into her ear, the tell tale strain of pain in his voice from her bite. "Till you've worn your vocal chords into the shape of my name. So you always remember it." He seemed to be spurring himself on, doing far worse to her. The groan of his words against the shell of her ear was enough to send her reeling into an unexpected orgasm. She tasted the salty tang of what she could only assume was his sweat, keeping her grip as her tongue formed a silent call of exactly what he wanted.

But she held onto the word harder than her teeth did his flesh, and soon enough she was put out of her agony. The high wore off and her jaw went slack, an immensely satisfying wince coming from him.

"That's too bad," She spoke between laboured gasps, "Because it's time for me to leave." Her fingers circled his wrist, pulling him out herself. She let the whimper fall from his lips as a consolation prize. "I have somewhere I need to be." She added, quickly regretting it. But she didn't need to explain herself to him, so he didn’t clarify that her pressing commitment was to her bed.

Jaehyun just looked at her with the same furrowed brows from before, ones that she almost mistook for anger. Then he nodded, taking a step back to retreat from between her thighs, letting her close her legs.

The quick retreat made her jaw clench but she let that ridiculous reaction pass with the excuse of her ego.

"Another party?" He tried to be coy with the veiled inquiry. She didn't answer him, instead jumping off her perch and pulling her dress back down.

"Enjoy your week." She spoke to the floor, not looking at him once she felt put together again. "This was fun." She felt the need to add, catching a glimpse of his shoulders slumping. She walked away before she gave into any other compulsion, making a streamlined exit right before the party got wild.

(Y/N) hadn't slept properly all night. At one point she left a hasty text to Tiffany between tossing and turning and promptly fell asleep at the crack of dawn.

Her deafening ringtone dragged her out of her pleasant dreams. Reaching for her phone, she first noted that it was noon, and then that Tiffany was calling her.

"Of course I can get you a seat at the show!" Her friend's chirpy voice after undoubtedly her third coffee of the morning, made (Y/N) wince.

Her elbows wobbled from holding her weight up and she rolled over. "What are you talking about?" She questioned, eyes still squinted and adjusting to the midday sun coming through the window.

Tiffany laughed like she'd just heard an incredible joke. "Oh come on, there's no need to be shy, I got your text last night. You know I've got your back. You can come for the show today. If I can't squeeze you in, you can be backstage with me."

While Tiffany spoke, (Y/N) switched to speaker so she could dig through her phone. Eventually she found the message in question, a simple and short 'I want to come for Prada show.', sounding almost like a childish tantrum. She groaned, trying to recall what her thought process had been when she sent that text.

"If you're backstage, I can introduce you to some models." Tiffany spoke with a suggestive sing-song, the implication making (Y/N) scoff.

"What time should I be there?" She sighed, putting her arm over her eyes.

She walked into the venue feeling a little uneasy. The moment she spotted Jaehyun, her first instinct was to apologise. But it felt so silly to do so that the words never formed on her tongue. Instead she watched him conduct a gallant performance. He posed for photographs with some of the other front row attendees, answered questions and in general looked very much pleased and amiable.

It made her think of one of the offhanded comments he made last evening. It explained how he never seemed to take anything she said to him to heart, instead taking it in stride.

Not letting other people define your worth seemed to be the best advice she'd gotten in a while, intentional or not.

Once she saw the sliver of an opening, right after the show ended, (Y/N) found her feet leading to him. The hasty decision to come to the event hours before her departure was to see him after all.

"Do I need to stand in line and take a picture?" She questioned. Jaehyun turned to her, truly looking like she was the last person he expected to see. She understood the shock, this was the last place she expected to be. But as his shock dissipated into a warm smile, she reminded herself that it was expected decisions that had yielded the worst outcomes for her. It was time for a change.

"If you want. I also give autographs." He grinned, taking a small step closer to her.

"I don't have paper. Want to sign my tit with lipstick like a rockstar?" Her brows lifted, teasing him with the proposition.

Jaehyun laughed, a deep sound with a lovely melody. "Only if you buy me dinner first."

"I can do that. How about tonight? There's a restaurant right on the beach that makes gnocchi that melts in your mouth."

"Beach?" His brows dipped in mild confusion, smile still unfaltering.

"Sestri Levante is a beach town, I thought you knew."

"I do."

Her heart hammered a little from the sheer embarrassment of forming her next words, "Come with me." Her lips parted to take in a bated breath, light headed from her massive leap of faith. "You can refuse, but you'll be missing the best gnocchi you'll ever have." She tried, the joke failing to ease either of their state— his brows remained furrowed and her heart continued to sprint. "Or if you have prior commitments of course. Not everyone can just up and leave their jobs, I know." She began to ramble, she noted. A nervous habit that still reared its head once in a while despite all her efforts to quell it.

"I couldn't imagine living with that regret." He spoke after several excruciating moments, "You've managed to make a solid case." His entire face turned pink, an almost endearing sight after the past few days.

"It's something I'm known to do." She shrugged.

"Tonight?" He asked, she nodded with a tug to her bottom lip. He grinned, "(Y/N)?" He questioned, lips lifting higher when she swallowed nervously and hummed. "What are you doing till then?"

"Starting our vacation, I hope." Her eyes glint with mischief, mirroring his grin. "My room has a tub with a view."

Jaehyun's brows lifted for a moment, cheeks turning deep red this time from her bold proposition.

Cute cute cute cute cute. So cute.

The passing concern in his gaze brought her attention back to the present. He put on a smile but this time it didn't reach his eyes.

"Why don't you go on now, I'll catch up with you later. There are cameras everywhere." He spoke with a faltering smile and a sense of duty.

"I don't care, Jaehyun. Come with me now." She sounded sure of her words.

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cherrydreamer · 3 years

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My entry for Day 19 of the HarringroveApril challenge Vines Steve doesn’t sleep well anymore.

He hasn’t done a full eight hours since that first night at the Byers’, since he got dragged into this whole mess. He hasn’t done a full five hours since the tunnels, since Dustin dragged him in even further. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t done a full two hours since Starcourt. He can’t. There’s no room for restful sleep in between the ringing in his ears when he lies on his side and the nightmares that come when he finally slips under. So he’s already lying awake when the phone rings, eyes shooting open as soon as he hears it.

He’s out of bed by the second ring. He’s in the kitchen, hand on the phone, by the third. He takes a few deep breaths, gets himself calm.

Tells himself that It’s probably not monster-y. There’s protocol for those, for the ‘Red Alerts’ which come through the walkie, the one stashed by his bed, nestled next to the bat, both within arm’s reach.

Hand’s reach, really.

Ready.

So it has to be his parents. Something’s happened. Something bad. He knows it. Knows they’d never ring otherwise, not when it’s not his birthday or a holiday.

Steve’s mind whirls with the possibilities: his parents’ lawyers, ringing to inform him that the Harrington’s luxury cruise ship took a shortcut through the Bermuda triangle and that, sadly, Mr and Mrs Harrington have been poofed out of existence and, hey congratulations kid, you’re the sole heir to the Harrington empire.

His dad calling to tell him that he's gambled everything away, ‘bet it all on black and lost. Let that be a lesson, son’ and in twenty minutes there's going to be some beefy guys hammering at the door to pile everything in a van, Steve included- just another shiny trinket in amongst the vases and dusty bottles of expensive wine- and drive it all to Vegas.

His mom saying that she's done it. She's finally done it. She's caught his dad, legs wrapped around another young, blonde secretary, and she's finally followed through on those threats she made last time, she’s grabbed a kitchen knife and chopped off his- Steve stops his train of thought there, crossing his legs together and wincing at the image he’s conjured.

The phone rings again, seemingly shriller than before, and Steve steels himself for whatever’s about to come. He takes a deep breath and picks up the receiver, “Hello?”

The lights flicker once, so quickly that Steve convinces himself that he imagined it, and then there’s a crackling, a kind of static-y hiss against his ear, and then a voice, “Hey, I need, uh, police?”

There’s something familiar about it, something twitching at the back of his mind, the tip of his tongue, but Steve can’t quite place it.

“Hello? Anyone there? Please?” it comes again, a hint of desperation that has Steve’s neck prickling, “I need- shit, I need help.”

And Steve feels a little bad for the guy but, for once, this isn’t his responsibility. He doesn’t need to help here, doesn’t need to throw himself headfirst into danger. He can let the professionals handle this one.

“Yeah. You’ve got the wrong number, this isn’t 911.” Steve hangs up without even saying goodbye, but his hand is barely off the receiver when it rings again and Steve can hear the same voice, a little more panicked this time, before he’s even got the phone to his ear.

“Hello? Hello? I need...I need help, please.”

“This isn’t 911” Steve says it more forcefully this time, slamming the receiver down only to have it practically vibrate back into his hand with another ring. He doesn’t even wait for the voice before he’s snapping, “I dunno how, man, but you managed to mess up pressing three numbers again. ”

“Hey!” the voice gets angrier and the shift in tone makes something flutter right at the back of Steve’s mind. A fleeting memory, a flare of pain across his face. He strains to catch it, to fix it in place, but it flickers away again as the voice becomes more desperate, “I keep pressing 911 and you're the fucker who keeps answering,”

Steve puzzles over that, over what he can mean, and the guy takes advantage of his silence to beg again, “ You gotta- you gotta help me.”

He sounds so distressed, so wrecked, that Steve can’t put the phone down on him again, can’t leave him like that, whoever he is. Some kid on a really bad trip, probably trying to order a pizza and hitting his number by mistake.

It’s nowhere near the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to him, and it’s not like he had anything else planned, so Steve resigns himself to a few minutes of listening to some drug-induced rambling until the guy tires himself out or one of his friends comes to get him. Hell, stick a warm beer in his hand and it's not that different from some of the nights he spent with Tommy. Good nights too.

Fun.

Steve slides down the wall and makes himself as comfortable as he can against the cold tiles.

“Ok, ok,” he soothes, “What, uh, what do you need?”

The guy sighs, a long, stuttery exhale that Steve swears he can feel down the phone line, and he sounds a little calmer when he asks, “What the hell happened to the town?”

“Huh?”

“The... the damn town. Hawkins. Was it a bomb? Was it, I dunno, fucking Russia or some shit?”

Steve freezes at that, a shudder running through him, his face flaring with more phantom pain and the flutter of memory becoming more insistent. There's something about that voice. But it can't be what Steve's thinking.

“Hey!” the guy on the phone shouts, “Talk to me!”

So Steve does, keeps his voice calm, “What bomb?”

“Jesus...fuck!” The guy snaps, “Fine then. Whatever it was. Whatever the hell happened. Why there’s no other fucker here. And why it’s all-” he stops, and Steve can hear him taking shaky breaths- “It’s all, it’s all dark and there’s ash just...floating. And the damn-” he cuts off again, voice cracking, “and the vines. The fucking...the vine things everywhere. Had to-” he breaks off and Steve can hear the shudders in his breath through the phoneline, “-had to burn one of the fuckers to get it off my leg and I...shit. It’s all radiation, right? The...the bomb fucked it all up. Like the dogs. With the...with the messed up faces? Please, you gotta get me out before it...before I-” “Where are you? What can you see?” Steve interrupts, but the guy’s still rambling, still panicked, "Is there some bunker? Somewhere safe? An air raid thing, is that where you are? Fuck, is there somewhere safe?"

Steve can hear the desperation in his voice, can hear that particular hoarseness that comes when you’re trying to keep yourself from crying.

"Where are you?" Steve asks again, louder.

The guy’s voice is shaky when he answers, “Loch Nora, the rich bit. But it’s just as fucked up here. Everything’s...wrong.”

Steve’s heart leaps into his mouth, he’s pressing the phone so hard against his ear that it’s hurting, and his hands tremble so much that he almost drops the handset. “Where? Where exactly are you?”

“Why does that…? I don't fucking know the number. It's the...it's the Harrington place, big house, near the forest, got a-"

Steve does drop the phone at that. It falls with a clack on the floor beside him as his eyes flick around the house, looking for any movement, anything unusual. There’s nothing, not that he can see, nothing creeping around in the shadows, nothing growling or prowling.

Nothing. Not. Yet.

He’s not breathing and then he's breathing too much. Gasping. Head swimming.

He wants to run upstairs and hide under his bed, wants to grab the bat, wants to stay here and not move until the sun comes up, wants to call Robin, wants to call Dustin, wants to call his mom, wants to hang up the phone and pretend it never happened, wants to know what to do.

He doesn't know what to do.

Instead, he presses his head into his knees and grabs at his hair.

Because it can’t be what he’s thinking. Can’t be what it sounds like. Who it sounds like. It’s a mistake, it’s got to be a mistake. The guy’s high, he’s confused, he’s just some kid with memories of Steve’s parties, he’s got Steve’s house running round his brain, it’s a bad trip, just a bad trip that happens to sound like every nightmare Steve’s been having for the last year, hell, maybe Steve’s hallucinating this whole thing, lack of sleep finally kicking in, maybe Steve’s asleep and this is a dream, maybe-

“Hey! Hey!” the guy is shouting again, Steve can hear the tinny voice echoing out beside his feet. He picks up the phone again to hear the guy almost pleading, “Don’t go, don’t… you gotta tell me what’s going on. You gotta help me before-”

"Are you... are you sure that's where you are?" Steve interrupts,

“Pretty fucking sure,”

“But that’s...my house...” Steve manages, weakly, "You're in my house?"

There’s a long pause down the line. Long enough that Steve starts to worry. And then the voice comes back. A whisper this time.

“Harrington?”

It clicks then. The memory. The flutter. It settles and fills his mind with technicolour images. The voice rings through his ears, Harrington, right? Don't sweat it, Harrington. Am I dreaming, or is that you, Harrington? And it can't be. “Billy?”

Steve's certain it is. But. It can’t be.

Because. Billy. Billy’s dead.

Steve doesn’t know a lot, but he knows that. He saw it happen. Saw him die. Saw it and then re-lived it every night straight for a month afterwards- the Flayer, the blood, Billy's body, Max’s scream. He went to the funeral and stood awkwardly next to Tommy as the coffin was lowered into the ground. Max had cried, muffled sobs against Susan’s chest.

Because. Billy died. Billy is dead. But he’s also on the other end of the phone line, talking to Steve. Pleading with him.

“Harrington, Steve, shit, please don’t...please don’t hang up."

"Billy? Is that? Hargrove? But you-"

Steve doesn't know how to say it. Doesn't know the etiquette involved when telling someone that they should be dead. It definitely feels like the kind of thing you probably shouldn't draw attention to. Like a stammer or some kind of disfigurement. But maybe it's something Billy needs to know. Like pointing out when someone has spinach in their teeth.

Because Steve's talking to a dead guy who doesn't seem to realise he's dead.

He's in his kitchen talking to a dead guy. His kitchen. Where he used to stand on tiptoe and lean against his mom's legs and she'd slip him tiny pieces of sliced apple whenever she made pie.

Where he can reach out and run his finger around the black smudge in the counter, the burn he made when he'd been learning to cook for himself. He'd almost scorched his hand, but instead he just seared a crescent into the wood.

His kitchen with the overflowing trash and the half finished glass of orange juice and the dead guy on the phone. The dead guy who’s in his house.

“You’re in my house?”

Repetition. It’s all he can manage. All his brain is capable of right now. Four words to cling to.

He tries for another four. Billy is not dead. He's in Steve's house.

He needs Steve's help. Now with a (mini) Part 2 (and plans for more!)

#harringrove #well. very PRE harringrove #harringrove april #and yes this is the one that MIGHT become a longer one later if I ever get past my mental blocks over it #so I thought I'd tweak it and air it out for this challenge instead!#cherrywrites

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pauperpedia · 4 years

Text

Tuesday Brewsday 26: Eyeing Bully with Deluxeicoff

For over a month now I’ve been playing Boros Bully a lot, and have been fairly successful. I’ve topped 16 a challenge, came in third place in the Facebook league, Won a PCT event while coming in 2nd and top 8 in two others. The whole time I was thinking if there was any room for improvements and implemented some ideas. Whenever you want to make changes to a deck however, you need to go back and see what works and the reasoning behind why certain cards are in the deck. Since I wanted to write about the deck regarding this, I thought there was no better person to consult than the original deck designer himself, Deluxeicoff. I asked him four questions about the deck, but first, here is the mainboard decklist I’ve fallen in love with.

1 Sentinel's Eyes

4 Faithless Looting

4 Thraben Inspector

4 Seeker of the Way

4 Squadron Hawk

1 Guardian of the Guildpact

2 Palace Sentinels

4 Battle Screech

2 Rally the Peasants

4 Prismatic Strands

1 Firebolt

1 Electrickery

4 Lightning Bolt

2 Journey to Nowhere

1 Oblivion Ring

1 Secluded Steppe

4 Boros Garrison

6 Mountain

6 Plains

4 Wind-Scarred Crag

So what did the original creator of Bully have to say about his beloved Delver killer?

Q1: Originally you didn’t run Palace Sentinels. What was your reasoning and do you still stand by this?

A1: Bully was an aggro deck at its start and the metagame at the time didn't have too much Tron, so using Raise the Alarm EOT had A LOT of play options/surprises and game wins...from the obvious fueling battle screech out of the blue, to blocking, to having a double answer to fling with opponents countermagic - its combination with prismatic strands was paramount and I still feel this build is the right call given the metagame and/or shifts in it. Remember, I placed 3rd in a challenge on its debut, and was a shoe-in for the win if I had one more second. My last round in the top 8 was vs. familiars and I timed out with lethal on the stack - MEGA frustrating... Palace Sentinels slows the deck down, but is necessary vs. Tron... but I'm still not sure since the addition of it didn't make the match THAT much better, just a bit - moreover the ability to protect monarch via strands is usually the angle. More importantly was my lack of using Thraben Inspectors - that was a design miss on my end, I leaned heavily on sacred cats for their brutal efficiency and re-use-ability. I've liked Guaridan of the Guildpact mix with Monarch, but I'd never play more than two Palace Sentinels personally. Just a few weeks later, I placed 2nd in the Rags to Riches tournament in Seattle using 2 Palace main. It has been awesome to see the variations of the list over the last year or so - no right answers, just cool tweaks for the given state of the game.

Q2: Are there any new cards that would improve the deck?

A2: From my original design, there is now an instant that does the same thing - but I feel your recent addition of one Sentinel's Eyes is very 'on-brand.' The DNA of the deck is Faithless Looting - pitching stuff in your yard that can come back makes faithless looting feel like a cheap Treasure Cruise. Future expansions continue to come, pay attention to abilities like retrace and embalm, escape etc.., I feel the lack of "Seal of Fire" is a bad call in most lists - this card isn't "NEW" but it is often overlooked...once out, it is an un-counterable option to about 90% of the critters in Pauper.

Q3: What decks typically give this one a hard time? What is the strategy you find best to beat those decks?

A3: Tron was and is always an issue...decks with recursion locks. A combination of Monarch, Flaring Pain, graveyard hate, sheer aggro pumps and/or land destruction are all decent ways to attack, but it is usually a hard matchup...which is why I like the surprise value in Raise the Alarm/more aggro approach. As much as I like to have a 'GOTCHA!" card - Tron is too resilient, and in the end, it is often best to be the problem. Also, at Pauper's first ProTour LA - I went undefeated -(after a first round scoop due to my lands mysteriously vanishing and taking a loss to start.) In that list, I ran COP Black - because Nasty's build of Gurmag/Dimir build was very popular, but I had success vs. it with that simple addition...Guardian's of the Guild don't hurt much either there :)

Q4: If WOTC let you design a card for Bully, what would it be and what would it replace?

A4: Hmm...it would need to be a sideboard card vs. Tron...flexible and have some interaction with the graveyard.

I really enjoyed getting Deluxeicoff’s take on Boros Bully. I still remember the Rags to Riches event held by Card Kingdom in Seattle where I got to share a drink and hang out with him to play some pauper before the event started. If you ever find yourself with some free time on Saturday, Deluxeicoff broadcasts his Pauperganda show via Twitch at 9 am pst. He also has a YouTube channel, a Facebook page, and if you want to support him go donate through buymeacoffee.

So what are my hot takes on the deck and what have I tried to implement? I’ve been loving the fact that Bully can beat practically any aggro strategy out there. With the uncommonly strong (pun intended) Seeker of the Way combined with Prismatic Strands, it’s easy to recover and then take the game away through the air with Battle Screech and Rally the Peasants. Whenever I see a turn 1 island, I breathe a sigh of relief knowing that I have the upper hand in the match. Considering Delver decks are on the uptick and Tron is seldom seen in leagues or community run events, I’d say Bully is in a good spot right now.

Recently I’ve tried out some new cards in the deck to see if they improved upon the ole Bully on the block. I started out by moving towards a more artifact centered deck so I could run Galvanic Blast alongside Lightning Bolt. I did this by removing Journey to Nowhere, Oblivion Ring, and one Guardian of the Guildpact. My reasoning behind this was that it could give the deck more reach and have a shot a taking out Tron once they have a fog lock. In the end I didn’t really like the mashup between Monarch and Bully the deck resembled. Stumbling on mana or constantly having an underpowered blast in the face of artifact removal was harsh. I also felt like the change made some matchups worse like Affinity or UB Delver where I wish I still had Journey to Nowhere. Maybe I just cut the wrong cards to make room for Galvanic Blast, but in my opinion it just made the deck awkward.

Next I tried playing with two copies of Underworld Rage-Hound. I remembered way back when the deck played with Sanctuary Cat, it was such a great feeling to have access to a creature that not only spat in the face of removal, but pitching it to Faithless Looting never felt like a feel bad moment. The problem I ran into though was the same one that plagued the cat, there was no evasion to push through damage. Worse, having to attack every turn really took away its potential as a road block. The only positive I saw when playing Underworld Rage-Hound was when I faced a Tron deck, and even then it eventually got stonehorned. Too many creatures can block it and kill it, and Gurmag Angler just plain eats it.

After that I wanted to explore the escape mechanic further. I had see the success Sentinel’s eyes was having in decks like Hexproof and Heroic and wondered if a deck like this could embrace it al well. So far I’ve really like the inclusion of one copy of Sentinel’s Eyes. Being able to cast it from the graveyard by exiling a mere two cards and paying one white mana has been amazing. It instantly turns any of your birds into a threat, or gives your Seeker of the Way some added oomph. Another feature of Sentinel’s Eyes is that it gives the creature vigilance which Prismatic Strands loves. I really think Sentinel’s Eyes has a home here, but you might want to play around with the card you take out. The deck usually runs 2 Guardian of the Guildpact, but I’ve cut one to make room for it. I could see the deck maybe cutting a Firebolt or Lightning Bolt, possibly even Oblivion Ring instead. Only time and more “eyes” on the deck will tell.

1 Electrickery

1 Flaring Pain

1 Leave No Trace

3 Pyroblast

1 Ramosian Rally

2 Red Elemental Blast

2 Shenanigans

1 Standard Bearer

1 Oblivion Ring

1 Aura Fracture

1 Tormod's Crypt

My sideboard is a bit different than you might see. When it comes to my artifact removal, as much as I love Gorilla Shaman, I think Shenanigans plays really well with the deck’s plan. That’s why I run two, so I can increase the odds of a backbreaking turn two play against affinity.

I’ve always loved Aura Fracture in my white decks. A lot of the time this deck will have excess mana to pitch to Aura Fracture. Being able to continually destroys an enchantment can keep opposing Journey to Nowheres at bay and Hexproof from turning their Bogle into something even Ulamog would be scared of.

On that note I also love Standard Bearer. One of the decks that I hate losing to constantly is Elves. Standard Bearer can shut down their game plan of making huge elves with Timberwatch Elf. It also helps in the burn matchup by eating a bolt. Tireless Tribe has a hard time getting through it without Gut Shot as well. There are a plethora of reasons to run Standard Bearer, which is why I can’t not include.

The last oddball I run is a lone copy of Tormod’s Crypt. I like this over Relic of Progenitus for the reason that it doesn’t hit my graveyard when sacrificed. Being able to cast it for free is another boon when I absolutely need to find it and burn through two faithless lootings leaving me tapped out. It’s happened before and I was sure glad I was running that over Nihil Spellbomb.

That about sums it up. Get out there and bully your opponent in the best way, by swinging for lethal with a rally of birds. I hope you have enjoyed these blogs/articles. I’m always open to feedback and simply want to provide the best content I can. I’m always open to collaborate on a deck as well. Please visit and like/follow my Facebook page pauperpedia, a fan page dedicated to bringing you links to daily articles, videos, and podcast covering Pauper. You can also email me at [email protected] if any of you have submissions as well. Till next time folks, have a happy Brewsday!

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