#Why of all the people you could have picked did you choose the annoying snobby guy I have to see everyday at work

[jardin-de-limaginaire]

Could you do a Mischa Bachinski x Gn reader having to do with them picking out Halloween costumes????

Of course! Halloween might be over, but I will still write this since it sounds cute! The fanfic didn't come out really amazing, so sorry about that. I also wrote from the perspective of (Y/N), because why not.

Anyways, hope you're having a wonderful day/night anon!

(TW: none!)

word count: 1088 words

Spooky month! (MISCHA BACHINSKI X READER HALLOWEEN ONESHOT)

(𝓨/𝓝)'𝓢 𝓟𝓞𝓥

It was Halloween, one of my favorite holidays of all time. The time of year when you see people carving jack-o'-lanterns, kids trick-or-treating for candy, and most obviously, making or choosing a costume to wear.

I am no longer a child, so I can't go trick or treating without getting weird glares from those snobby old people, so what better thing to do than dressing up as either a monster or a movie character, and scaring random children walking by!

That sounds like a fun idea! I should invite someone to also dress up as something, and then we can scare little kids! My genius is sometimes terrifying, I have to admit.

I got out of bed and walked around my room, trying to think of who I should call. My phone began ringing its annoying tune, and so I picked it up, to see who was calling me. I smiled as I saw that the person who was calling me was none other than my boyfriend, Mischa.

We first started dating a few months ago, when he revealed his feelings for me on a youtube comment section. Many people probably saw it, but I don't mind.

Surprisingly, he lived in the same town as me, which made it a hundred times better, and I even transferred to the same school as him and joined the choir, so that I can talk to him more.

I answered and I got so overjoyed when I heard his voice. "Wassup babycakes! I know there's this holiday that you Americans and Canadians celebrate called Halloween, and I wanted to spend this Halloween with you if you don't mind!" I can imagine him blushing from the other side of the screen, and I began smiling.

"Of course, my mishka! I would love to spend my Halloween with you!" I responded in excitement. "We should totally dress up as characters from horror movies!"

"OH HELL YEAH!" He yelled loudly, and I heard a door opening and a voice saying lowly "Quiet!" to Mischa. Mischa muttered a small "Sorry", before the other voice slammed the door.

I felt sorry for Mischa. He told me the story about how he had to leave his mother and move here to Uranium, only to be shunned by his new parents. If only I could help him move out of that hellhole, I would.

"Ignore that. Let's go meet at the thrift store so that we can get some costumes for really cheap." Mischa said. I tried smiling, but I was still upset at how his parents treated him.

"Okay then, Mischa. Let's meet later outside the thrift store, K?"

"Okay, babe! See you later!"

I finally arrived at the Thrift store. I was waiting nervously for my boyfriend to arrive. He finally arrived, and we both hugged each other.

"Yoooooo babycakes, how are you!" He asked as we did the secret handshake that we invented.

"I'm good, now that I'm with you. How 'bout you?" I asked. "I'm 'ight." He responded back

"Let's enter the thrift store so that we can find a costume," I said, and we both entered the thrift store.

Here we were met with a lot of clothes, antique objects, old toys, and many more. What caught our attention was the Halloween section of the thrift store. We basically ran to that section and began looking for costumes for us to wear.

"Oooh, Zombie student! What if one of the members of the choir turned into a zombie, they would surely wear something like this!" I said as I showed Mischa the costume, which was basically a ripped-up St. Cassian uniform with fake blood on it. It sure looked cheap and was probably made by someone from our school who tried to rebel against the school rules.

"Nah, it looks fake." He responded before he took out another costume, which was a flannel shirt and a wolf head. "Look, werewolf," Mischa said before he put the costume back and took out a ghost face costume, which he seemed to like.

"You would look great dressed up as Ghostface." He said. I blushed and smiled really goofily before I turned back to look for costumes.

"Oh my god! You should dress as Jigsaw!" I said as I took out a Jigsaw mask and outfit and showed it to Mischa. "I know that you really love Saw V, so I think this outfit would suit you!" I said as I gave him the outfit.

"You're a genius, (Y/N)!" He gave me a wide smile, and I smiled back. "Now we should find a costume for you." He said as he began looking for a costume for me.

"Do you wanna dress as Michael Myers?" He asked as he took out a Michael Myers costume.

"Hmm...I'm not really feeling it." I said as I began looking for a costume.

"Freddie Kruger...Nah...Chucky....Not feeling it...Ghost face...Probably...Samara Morgan...Probably not..." I kept looking for a costume, but couldn't find anything I wanted to dress up as.

"Hey, how about Jason?" Asked Mischa. I turned my head toward him and saw a Jason Voorhees costume, completed with the mask.

"Mischa, you really have good taste in everything" I responded as I took the outfit, and hugged him. "We should go dress up now!"

After buying the costumes, and going to my house so that we can dress up, we spent most of the night scaring children who were going trick-or-treating, buying candy, going to Taco Bell to scare Noel (which actually worked), and eating tacos outside the mall together with Noel who took a break from work to hang out with us, while watching final destination on a portable DVD player.

"You know Mischa, this Halloween was the most amazing day of my life. But you know what else is amazing?" I smirked at Mischa.

"What else is amazing?" He asked.

"You are, silly!" I laughed, almost choking on my taco, but noel smacked my back so that I could stop choking, which surprisingly worked. Mischa was blushing a lot, and I was laughing at how much he was blushing

"I might be the most romantic boy in town, but your relationship is too syrupy for me," Noel declared.

And that's how I spent my Halloween with my boyfriend.

THE END

𝑅𝑒𝒷𝓁𝑜𝑔 >> 𝐿𝒾𝓀𝑒 (𝒩𝑜𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝒸𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓈)

#Randommoonchild #x reader #ride the cyclone #ride the cyclone x reader #ride the cyclone mischa #mischa rtc #mischa bachinski #mischa x reader #mischa bachinski x reader #rtc x reader

[bluehairperson]

I had a thought the other day, while daydreaming, and I ended up imagining Valerius going to Julian for a co consultation and tries to flirt with him but FAILS epically. Julian is so focused on his work/being serious that he doesn't get the clue either and Val was half offended and half turned on by Julian's serious face. And then Jules went "alright then, time for *insert medical jazz*" and put his gloves on, Val changed to "count me as both scared and horny"

Aasds, lmao.

Personally I can't imagine Val flirting with Julian on purpose much. For the events before and during the plague I envision more of a "I have no idea why Lucio keeps you at his court but he seems to trust you, so you're on thin fucking ice" that develops in a "ok, you're actually trying to take care of him, for which I'm glad, but you're not acheiving much so I'll just let out my frustration on you" thing.

What I can envision tho is Julian catching Val and Lucio making out on accident, panicking and bolting away. And while he stresses about having to talk to Nadia about their affair (which of course she already knows everything about, because she's not dumb and because Val and Lucio are both really obvious and kinda not really trying to hide it much) Val makes sure to be left alone with Julian somewhere private to threaten him to keep his mouth shut. But he says it like "If the word goes out I'll make sure to have you whipped in the dungeons even if I'll have to do it myself" or something like that. So Julian is honestly scared af because he knows he means it, but at the same time he's like "😳😳😳W-Whipped? 😩💦". And Val gets grossed out and leaves. But at the same time he's kinda like "touching Devorak would be gross, but would it be worth it just to let him catch these hands? 🤔🤔🤔".

#btw I like the fandom interpretation that Nadia and Lucio had kind of an open marriage because they weren't really working out #I think that Lucio and Valerius being private was more about their positions at work which would have made it kinda awkward #mainly for Val because Lucio doesn't care #like I can see Nadia being fine with Lucio seing other ppl but when she sees that it's one of their high ranking employees shes like Bruh #Why of all the people you could have picked did you choose the annoying snobby guy I have to see everyday at work #so it would be literally just Julian and Val stressing and panicking over nothing #but yeah it would be a hatefucking thing I guess #also being stuck inside makes me forget how to english so I hope this is decipherable #asks #not art

[moregaythanyourealized]

First Impressions

Otto Octavius x reader

Working with others wasn’t your strong suit. People think you’re vulgar and rude. You like to call yourself brutally honest. This job wasn’t an exception. A science company that needed engineers, mechanics, and strong minds like your own. You had only been working here for a few months when gossip about a new super project was being passed around. No one bothered to tell you, of course. You just overheard it on your coffee break. Apparently some great scientist was coming in and taking over the entire lab.

Usually you’d be excited for an advancement in the world of fusion. But this new rich snobby scientist meant that for however long this project took you’d have; No office, Less working hours (meaning less pay), and worst of all....small talk

It was the day the new scientist was supposed to come in, you now knew his name was Otto Octavius. Your desk and your co workers desks were moved out of the lab and into a much smaller space. Cramping you all together like rats. You wore your usual attire and annoyed look as you entered the building. Although today you dawned some stylish eyeliner. Not for him of course, everybody was working extra hard to look presentable and professional. You passed by a co-worker who you didn’t really hate as much,

“Yo, Kathleen, is that guy here yet? Or do you think he’s too busy getting the windows on his lamborghini re-tinted?” You snorted at your own joke waiting for her response,

“Uh, he’s upstairs I think...in the lab.” You thanked her and walked up the steps. You pushed through nerds and geeks trying to reach your desk. A folder of your ideas carefully sealed with colorful clips sat in your drawer.

“L/n!” Turning around your boss was at the end of the hall stomping his feet,

“You were supposed to be in the lab by 7:30!” You glanced at the clock on the wall, 7:46,

“My apologies sir. I didn’t realize everyone would have a stick up their ass this morning. Besides traffic on the way here is always shitty.” You absentmindedly looked through your folder and took one page out pinning it to your cork board, until your boss grabbed your wrist and turned you towards him. His breath was heinous,

“Listen L/n, on a normal day I’d let you get away with being like this. But this is too important for you to fuck up.” glaring at you he released your arm,

“Get your shit together.” He spat. Waiting until he rounded the corner you groaned and tugged at your hair. Today just wasn’t your day. Taking a deep breath you smoothed out your shirt and walked to the lab pushing the door open and continuing inside. The colder air made you relax a bit. Hoping you’d be able to get some work done you sat down on a metal table in the corner. Crossing your legs and looking over blueprints for the next big thing in New York. The above ground bullet train. Sleek design and smooth riding on the rails...you hoped.

Kathleen walked in and shyly rapped your shoulder,

“Did you meet Mr Octavius?”

“He hasn’t come in yet.” You replied glancing her way, admiring how nice she looked even when she wasn’t trying,

“He’s right over there.” She points to a hunched over man in a red sweater. You got off the table and stared,

“That’s him? I thought he was like a janitor or some shit.” The man looked up raising a brow.

Fuck...probably said that too loud.

Waving awkwardly you grabbed Kathleen’s arm and dragged her over to the main table with you,

“Hello, I’m Dr Octavius. I believe we’ll be working together for the next few weeks.” He smiled sweetly and stuck out his hand which Kathleen accepted greatly,

“Actually Dr,” You chimed,

“You’ll be working with people from the east wing. They’re just letting you invade our entire office.” Kathleen stamped down on your foot lightly before turning back to the doctor,

“Y/n was just going to get me some coffee, do you want any Dr?” He nodded and you walked out making sure to slam the door. Stupid jerk, wearing a cute fucking sweater, trying to act all innocent. Trying to play god and mess with whatever sanity I have left. Pouring two cups of coffee you sighed, watching the steam spiral from the cup in a calming manner. Putting milk and sugar into one and nothing into the other.

Re-entering the lab Kathleen was no longer there. A disturbing silence made you want to turn on your radio. Octavius was still leaning over the desk writing things down. You held the drink infront of him,

“Oh, thank you sweetheart.” Your eye twitched. That was the final straw. You yanked the coffee back spilling it a bit,

“My name is Y/n L/n, I may not have your money or title but I expect the same respect you’d give any man on this team. Do you understand me?” He stood up quickly. You didn’t realize he was so tall,

“Now wait a moment Y/n, just a few minutes ago you were cursing and accusing me. Respect is about the last thing on my mind when I think of you.” Ah shit, he was kinda right. You weren’t mad at him. You were just mad at the world. Still you had bad energy in your system,

“But I apologize for calling you sweetheart. It was a crude mistake.” You set both coffees down gently and folded your arms looking at your boots. Saying sorry was the right thing to do, even if it sucked,

“I’m sorry for the way I acted Dr, I guess I’m just a little upset with the pay cuts.” He paused,

“They’re cutting your pay?” You nodded and sat down in one of the metal chairs,

“Everyone here who doesn’t work 24/7 alongside you for the next month gets their pay cut in half until you’re out of here.”

“But you didn’t choose to work less, that doesn’t seem right.” You sighed and rested your head on the table,

“Tell me about it.” While enjoying the feeling of cool table on your cheek you noticed one of his papers. You grabbed it and a pencil before erasing some of his math. You could feel him focused on you,

“Staring is rude.” You said not taking your eyes off the equations,

“You seem to be as well.” Chuckling a bit he sat down and tapped your hand drawing your attention to his soft features,

“I think I know what’s bothering you.”

“I already told you what’s bothering me.” He shook his head and clicked his tongue,

“No, not that. When you left for coffee, Kathleen and I had a small talk about your behavior” Jesus, he sounds like a high school principal,

“She told me that you act like this a lot around other people. And it’s my personal hypothesis that you are intimidated by others who you believe to be smarter or better. You’re afraid of losing your job and not being able to prove yourself. I’m assuming that started in your childhood, either with an absent father figure or bullies at school.” You sat in disbelief. No one had ever really laid out your problems and made them seem so simple. Your face heated up and you clenched your hands. Why did this make you feel so stupid? Why did he think he knew more about your feelings than you did?

Standing up you turned away. Once a demanding and harsh voice was now quiet and small failing to hide your distraught,

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

————————————————

The rest of the day was slow. Your desk felt like a prison where time never moved forward. Rethinking what he said. The repeated movie in your brain of him lecturing you, All of it slowly morphed into him not making noise at all. His mouth moved but no sound, it was wonderful. You just imagined him, dark eyes, large stature looming over you, soft hands....

“Y/n?”

“Fuck!” You hit your head against the wall and turned to see Kathleen. She leaned in to make sure you’re okay, her perfume hit your nose and you tried not to seem like you were enjoying the moment too much,

“What do you need Kathy?”

“Dr Octavius asked me to give this to you.” She handed you an envelope and hastily exited the room. The crisp paper unfolded in your hands. Reading the letter was like fiery kisses to your skin. Words pouring out like water from a faucet.

Y/n,

We obviously got off on the wrong foot. I do not think of you as a subordinate and I certainly hope you do not think of me as a threat. We both overstepped personal and professional boundaries today. I apologize sincerely for making you uncomfortable. What is science if not testing the waters though? To show my attitude towards a better future working together I invite you to lunch tomorrow downtown. I will pick you up outside at 12:30

All the best,

Dr Otto Octavius

Pinning the letter up next to your project on the cork board you admired it smiling. Perhaps second impressions will set you both straight.

#doc ock x reader #doc ock #mcu x reader #spiderman #spiderverse #otto octavius #tw swearing

[bittersweetmelxdy]

Can I request Victor where MC asks something of him that he finds stupid/annoying/bothersome/whatever, and he's really mean when telling her no. Plus when they makeup.

hi hi hi, thanks for your patience, hope you like it x

Title: to break and to mend Pairing: Victor x MC Words: 1,940

The morning seemed to both crawl and speed past you, as you and your team sat in the boardroom rifling through the various proposals littered across the table, the basic outline was done but the actress chosen was causing all sorts of problems. The brand you were working with had told you their vision and you had met the brand ambassador when she had come to sign the contract with the brand a couple weeks ago. Anna had come with you and both of you had thought that the actress was a tad standoffish with you, and her manager was short with you especially when she noted your young age. But overall, you had both naively thought that she seemed to be professional and the shoot should go smoothly, looking back you grimaced at how wrong you were. Ever since the proposal outline had been approved by the brand, the actress and her manager were being extremely uncooperative. No one else but the actress and the manager had problems with the shoot, from the colour of the dress “not optimising the actress’ complexion” to the shoot being “in conditions that could cause harm to the actress’ health”. You, the director and the entirety of the staff felt you were at your wit’s end with the amount of complaints you were receiving.  

Whenever you or your team tried to mitigate the situation, the manager and the actress took a snobby attitude, after they finally left the director sighed.

“If she wasn’t the brand ambassador, I’d have told you to replace her by now, kid.” the director involved in the shoot was well-recognised and had worked with all kinds of people, and he had told you that this actress, was among the worst kinds he had worked with.

“I don’t know what their problem is...” you sighed, propping your elbows on the desk and burying your head in your hands.

“They’re obviously looking down on you, Boss.” Kiki fumed; Minor nodding just as furious beside her.

“I hate to say it but it’s true...” the director said, “Well good luck kid, I’ll hope for good news at the next meeting. Maybe she’ll even apologise at the next meeting.” you appreciated the director (who was a family friend of yours) trying to cheer you up, and he patted your shoulder before leaving.

Once everyone was gone, you slumped in your chair, biting your lip in frustration, the entirety of your team of employees letting loose as well, sighing and huffing and muttering words of disgust. You looked at each of them, feeling sorry for the amount of effort you were all putting in and you were barely getting anything back.

“Alright, let’s leave it here for today.” you smiled tightly, picking up your things and standing up, “I’m off.”

“You still have to drop the report at LFG?” Willow pouted, sad that although you were sending everyone else home, you still had work to do.

“I can give you a lift there.” Anna offered, and you agreed but told her could get your own lift back, the whole drive there the two of you ran through the presentation, adjusting slight details so you wouldn’t slip up in front of Victor if he asks any questions during your report.

“What are you going to do if he asks why the recent shoot has been delayed, as it’s in our quarter report?” Anna asked, glancing at you from the driver’s seat.

You sighed propping your head against the door and staring out of the window, “I’ll just tell him, maybe he’ll even give me some advice on how to handle it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he’ll help you out.” Anna smirked, stressing the ‘you’ part, and catching her eye in the rearview mirror, the two of you began to laugh, as she came to a stop in front of LFG.  

You dismounted, waving farewell as Anna drove away, and after checking in with the front desk, you made your way up to the office of the CEO. Reaching the door, you stopped and took a deep breath, exhaling with your eyes closed to expel the nervousness from your system, and raised your hand to knock on the solid wood. Shuffling from foot to foot, you waited for the familiar tone of the CEO to call a stern “Come in.” and then you walked in.

Standing 6ft from Victor’s desk, you gave your report keeping your voice level and steady, no matter how many times you came to do this, you always felt nervous whenever you stood in front of Victor. Victor like always never kept his eye upon you for too long, scribbling on various papers, checking documents, but you knew that he was hearing every word you spoke. When you finished the report, you clasped your hands behind your back awaiting Victor’s probing, and you didn’t have to wait long.

“Why did you delay the shoot?” Victor asked drily, “According to your schedule, it should have been shot by now.”

You bit your lip in frustration, ‘Victor really never pulls any punches, does he?’ you thought before deciding to ask him for help, “Umm, I actually wanted to ask for some advice, if an actress is causing problems, and you need to delay the shoot-”

“Are you telling me you can’t control your staff?” Victor interrupted, and a sharp pain gripped at your heart.

“No, but I-”

“If you’re just going to make excuses then just leave. Let me remind you LFG does not waste time on incompetent producers.” Victor stared you down, and you felt your face become hot and tears swam in your eyes.

However, instead of biting back, you just hung your head in shame, balling your hands into fists, and gave Victor a quiet barely audible response of “I’m sorry for taking up your time.” before you turned sharply and basically fled his office, trying to hide your tears as you quickly made your way home.

It had been a week since you had given your report at LFG, and Victor had the sneaking suspicion that you were avoiding him. He couldn’t say it for definite, but you seemed to refuse to step foot into LFG when he was there, and whenever he spotted you in the hallways you heard notice him, turn around and basically flee. Whenever he tried to chase you down, widening his strides to catch up with you, you would quickly turn a corner and by the time he had turned the same corner you had seemingly vanished into thin air.  

Sitting in his office, Victor’s grip tightened around the pen in his grasp when a light knock resounded on his door. He lifted his head in hope calling for the person to enter, and he hoped it was you, hopes that were quickly dashed when Goldman appeared looking a little grieved.

“Sir, there’s umm...” Goldman trailed off.

“Who is it, Goldman?” Victor tried to hurry him up.

“There’s an actress and her manager outside, requesting to speak to you.” at Victor confused look, Goldman sighed and added quietly and slowly, “They were involved in Y/N’s last shoot.” recognition flashed through Victor’s eyes as the manager and the actress walked in a sat down with a flourish.

“May I help you?” Victor asked politely.

“CEO Li, thank you for making time to see us today,” the manager began, “we wanted to talk to you about a company we know you invest in.” the manager then named your company and Victor scrunched his brow in curiosity.

Victor didn’t know what he expected when these two walked in, but what he heard what not it. The manager and actress spent the next 15 minutes berating you, they insulted everything from the location choice to the clothing choice, the incompetency of the staff, and finally when they moved onto you, Victor could hear no more. He stood up quickly, cutting them off completely, and spoke quite tensely to them.

“I would advise you not to think of yourselves so highly that you can pry into LFG’s affairs.” Victor spoke through a clenched jaw.

“CEO Li you must understand-”

“I understand that the companies LFG chooses to invest in are of impeccable quality, and you and your talent were lucky to have even worked with them. Now would you please leave.” Victor turned around staring out of the window, not even watching them leave. He frowned and massaged his brow, now realising that was what you wanted to talk about last week, and guilt flooded him system.

He gathered his coat and pushed his things into his briefcase and left his office in a rush calling to Goldman over his shoulder, “Goldman cancel all my appointments for the rest of the day.”

“Yes sir!” Goldman replied but it fell on deaf ears as Victor was already in the elevator heading to the lobby.

Victor drove quickly towards your company, hands gripping the steering wheel with a white-knuckle grip, and clenching his jaw, berating himself the whole way there. Once he had parked his car, he made his way up into your office, brushing past your employees and asking one of them who he recognised (Anna) where you were.  

Anna had noticed your downcast mood after your last report to LFG, and knowing that Victor was probably hear to cheer you up, she smiled and told him you were in your office and you were free for the rest of the afternoon. Victor thanked her quickly and then entered your office, closing it and turning the lock before you had realised he was there. You quickly stood and Victor held his hand up to stop whatever you were about to yell at him.

“Please, let me explain why I am here first.” Victor pleaded, and you tried to keep up your cold persona by remaining silent and sitting back down gesturing for Victor to continue.

“Listen I know you’re angry-” you scoffed at that and Victor cleared his throat, “I know you’re far more than angry, but I just want to say, I’m sorry, and you have right to be angry with me. I told you to look for me if you ever needed help and I let you down... and I hope you can forgive me.” Victor kept his eyes trained on the floor and only raised them when he heard your soft sniffles.

You wiped your eyes with your fingers when suddenly your face was cradled in Victor’s much larger and warm hands. His hands cradled your face, and his thumbs brushed away your tears, before drawing you into a light embrace, your sobs being muffled in his shirt.

“I- I- I-I felt useless, and that I was bothering you, and you thought I was too much of a bother.” you started to hiccup through your emotional rambling.

Victor simply hushed you gently, caressing your hair soothingly, “No, no, no, you’re not a bother to me. Don’t ever think that.” he continued to offer gentle words as your sobs subsided after a few minutes.

“Victor?” you drew back, your red rimmed eyes causing him pain.

“I’m here.” he smiled gently.

“Do you really think I’m incompetent?” you whispered.

Victor shook his head, “I should never have said that to you, you’re more than competent to me.”

You breathed out, a shaky smile blossoming on your lips, “Promise?” you held your pinky out to him.

Victor huffed a laugh at your childish behaviour but reached up and hooked his pinky with yours, “Promise, Dummy.” the term of endearment more of a balm to your frazzled nerves than anything else could be.

#mlqc scenarios #mlqc #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc zen #mr love queen's choice #mr love victor #mr love li zeyan #mr love zen #mldd #love and producer #evol x love #koi to producer

[mcyt-sh1t]

ᶠʳᵉᵈ ʷᵉᵃˢˡᵉʸ ᶦᵐᵃᵍᶦⁿᵉ

Just some info on you:

-Slytherin

-Chaser (just started)

"You missed, Weasley!" you exclaimed. Fred narrowed his eyes in your direction as he watched you duck the bludger he'd aimed at you.

"Beginner's luck!" he called back.

"There you have it folks! Fred Weasley yet again misses the Slytherin Chaser Y/N," Lee Jordan announced. "This newcomer is sure showing up one of Gryffindor's best Beaters!"

"Oi, aren't you supposed to be rooting for our team?" Fred said while flying past Lee.

"Just calling it like I see it, mate."

"Why don't you just give up already?" you laughed while stealing the quaffle from Angelina Johnson.

"You wish!" Fred barked as he steadied his bat to send another bludger your way. "You're ego's already big enough."

Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor, came into your view. If I can just get a few more points, Gryffindor won't be able to catch us. Focusing on the goal ahead, you didn't realize a bludger was right on your tail. The flying ball hit the quaffle right out of your hands. The initial jolt almost knocked you off your broom, however, your hands managed to keep you on. Alicia Spinnet grabbed the unattended quaffle and proceeded to toss it to Katie Bell, who scored. That idiot keeper! About two minutes later, Potter caught the snitch. Thus, any chance Slytherin had of redemption fell down the drain.

"Good game, Y/L/N," Fred grinned at you. Instead of humoring him with a response, you whizzed past him. He almost fell of his broom. You smirked at the thought of catching the insufferable Weasley off guard.

                                                            ***

A month later, you were briskly walking down the hall. Your hands shook slightly as you went over your plan in your head. When I see him, I just have to get close enough to slip the dungbomb into his robes. Simple. How exactly am I going to get that close, though? Thankfully, that question was answered relatively quickly for you. As you turned the corner, you collided with a tall ginger. you'd been walking so fast that'd you'd practically bounced off of Fred. While he stayed upright, you were knocked to the ground.

"Watch it, Y/L/N!" Fred shouted.

"Me? It was your fault!" You rubbed your head. A cheeky grin lined his lips and his eyes shone brightly. "What's so funny, Weasley?"

"Well, Y/L/N, I think you've fallen for me."

You rolled your eyes as you got to your feet. "As if I'd fall for someone like you."

"Is that a challenge?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and stepping forward.

"Why challenge you to something I already know I'd win? No wonder you didn't end up in Ravenclaw." Before he could reply, you darted off. A wicked smile formed as you counted down the seconds til the dingbomb would go off. You hadn't walked five feet when something burned in your pocket. Out of nowhere a firecracker burst from inside your robe. Sparks flew onto your outfit as well as your hair. Enraged, you attempted to put out the flames. Across from you, you recognized the odor of the dungbomb. Half the students in the corridor were laughing at you while the other half was racing away from Fred and his terrible stench. You must be joking! Somehow that ginger got a firework into my robes? How in Merlin. . .?!

"Oi, Y/L/N!" Fred caught your attention. "No wonder we both didn't get into Ravenclaw, huh?"

                                                       ***

That Friday you were desperately trying to fix your hair with some spells you'd found in the library. After hours of failed attempts, you finally managed to find something that didn't look absolutely horrible. A side effect of the enchantment was that it turned your naturally chocolate colored hair into a slightly auburn tone. It'll have to do. Suddenly, a hand wrapped on your door.  You watched as someone slid a note underneath your door. You silently read it: Fred and George invite you to a top secret party held in a secret corridor. A map is attached to the bottom of this night. The party starts in half an hour. What an honor you sarcastically thought. The corridor took longer to find than you'd expected, even with the map. However, you did eventually discover it. The passage was dimly lit with lanterns on both sides of the walls. Voices echoed, which helped you find your way.

"I'm surprised you came," Fred said as he approached you.

"I'm surprised you invited me."

"Well, Georgie and I do pride ourselves on having eventful get togethers. And what's a party without a snobby Slytherin?"

"You really know how to treat a girl, Weasley. What's next? You gonna tell me I'm the scariest girl in Hogwarts?"

"Don't flatter yourself, love. Even Mrs. Norris has you beat." A commotion further down the corridor piqued your interest. "Come on, the game's probably started already."

"What dumb game did you pick?"

Fred shot you that grin that made your head spin. "Why seven minutes in heaven of course."

Oh, brother. You'd never actually played the Muggle game before, but you'd heard stories when eavesdropping on students like Granger and Thomas. Those in attendance ranged from all the four different houses. Parkinson picked first, choosing a pin that belonged to Terry Boot; Susan Bones ended up with Seamus Finnigan; Lovegood got Malfoy; one of the Patils went in with Potter while the other managed to select Longbottom's trinket.

Finally, the other Weasley twin brought the bag to you. Tentatively, you placed your hand in. There's not that many Slytherin guys left. . . You refused to believe that you would get anyone other than a boy from your house. The people in your house weren't exactly stellar, but they were still better than anyone else. Zabini and Malfoy are still in play. . . They were two years younger, however, beggars couldn't be choosers. Without really trying to decipher what the item you picked was, you brought it up to the light. Of course you inwardly groaned. A bloody firecracker. George locked you and Fred in the closet. Similar to light, any chance of enjoying the evening seemed to fade away.

"I can't believe I got stuck with you! Out of all the people at this ridiculous party, and I get you," you pouted.

"I'm not exactly thrilled either, darling," he retorted.

You took a step forward. "Oh, please. You'd be lucky if I even considered fancying you."

"Give me a break. I can barely stand to be in the same Quidditch Pitch as you."

"I can hardly stand being in the same school as you."

A slight chuckle escaped his mouth. "Oh, just admit it already. You know you love me." Under your breath, you whispered an incantation that knocked Fred to the floor of the closet. "Well, it seems as though you're the one who's fallen for me now, Weasley."

Fred's gaze met yours as you both laughed. He slowly stood up so he was towering over you. Stepping towards you, he closed the gap between the two of you.

"I think you might be right, love," Fred mumbled while crashing his lips onto yours. Your first thought, instead of pulling away, was to kiss him back. Your head tilted up to get a better angle. Passion surged through your kiss. A strong sensation flowed between the you both.  You would've guessed it was anger, but you wondered if it might be something more affectionate. He broke the kiss after a few seconds. His face expressed his great pleasure at your response to his move. You were so close to him. Everything that'd you'd ever despised about Fred Weasley suddenly turned into a reason to adore him. His endless pranks that used to drive you up the wall changed to genius plans with perfect execution. . . most of the time. His annoying laugh became music to your ears. His touch, once revolting, warmed even the frigid depths of your soul. All the arguments you'd had in the past seemed more like witty banter and flirting. And that cheeky grin he always wore around you instantaneously switched from irritating to endearing.

"Blimey! I wasn't expecting that," he beamed. His fingers played with your hair. "You know, love, you'd make a wonderful Weasley. I mean, you've sure got the hair for it now."

Guess he noticed my hair then. If I'm blushing as bad as I think I am right now, I'm glad it's dark in here. "Stop talking and kiss me Weasley."

Fred eagerly wrapped his arms around your waste while you cupped his face. The touch of his lips melted all the coldness that had hardened your heart years ago. Second by second, your walls tumbled to the ground. Fred kissed you as fiercely as he argued with you. I suppose this was one challenge in which I couldn't beat Fred Weasley you happily thought.

#hp #imagine #fred weasley #harry potter #story #slytherin x gryffindor

[jinned]

chromatic | yoongi

chromatic (adj)- relating to or using notes not belonging to the diatonic scale of the key in which a passage is written.

snippet: “Fuck he looks like a sparkly anime boy,”

pairing: Yoongi x female reader ft. best friend Namjoon

genre: RomCom-ish, crack, fluff

rating: pg13

au: college

word count: 4.9k

warnings: some language, some light banter, y/n is queen dumbass

Every time you walk into school you have to resist the urge to shove a pencil into your eye socket.

Damn. That was a little intense...but you can’t mask the truth. You’ve never been good at that....hiding your true feelings that is. It’s just...this school...it’s very clear most of your classmates applied to this school thinking it’ll get them rich and famous quick. They don’t care about the quality of their work. They don’t care about the industry. They just care about the attention and getting their name out there. You see it everyday as you walk through the corridors and in the classrooms. You’ve seen students laugh as they give half assed answers to professors questions. You’ve heard them complain about how boring the classes are and that they should have become doctors or lawyers like their parents wanted. One time you even heard one boy state he thought the purpose of the school was for the students to be in the studio working with “already famous people”. Literally, you groan whenever the thought pops back into your head. 

When you initially applied for Dague’s Radio Arts Program, also known as DRAP,  you couldn’t stop yourself from jumping around the house. Your parents smiled at you fondly, knowing that being a soundboard technician has always been your dream. Ever since you were little you’d critique almost every song that filled your ears, wondering how it would be to take away the cymbals or adding more synthesizer. You know, the kind of stuff every young kid thinks about when listening to music.

That ambition hasn’t gone away now that you’re in your third semester of your freshman year. It’s just been...clouded a bit.

DRAP is a small school with about two hundred students. So everyone knows everyone here. That being said, you’ve only found one decent human being who’s not trying to get into the industry for fame or fortune. This person genuinely cares about the content they create and want to make the music industry a better place.

And that man is none other than Kim Namjoon. Namjoon has stuck by your side ever since you sat by him on your first day in the fall during basic engineering. Neither of you paid any attention to one another until the teacher asked why everyone decided to attend DRAP and some snobby rich boy stood up and said, “I came to DRAP because it’s the easiest way to be discovered as a singer besides going to YouTube and I just haven’t hit rock bottom like that yet.”

The whole class clapped. Except for you and Namjoon who groaned so loudly it startled you both.

Instant friendship.

The rest is history.

The most entertaining thing about this school and having different morals than the rest of the student body is getting to watch how they interact with one another.

Like today for instance…

“Who’s that?” Namjoon juts his chin towards the swamp of girls crowding in a circle in the courtyard. The sun is shining bright on this rather chill spring day and you’d love nothing more than to go inside, but Namjoon loves to eat in the courtyard. People watching, he says, is the most splendid free entertainment one could enjoy. He continues to chew on his sandwich, his lips smacking together as he cranes his neck to try to get a better look without completely investing his body into the movements.

“What do you mean ‘who’s that’?” You ask annoyedly. Today just really hasn’t been your day and your patience is running thin. Finding out you got a ‘C’ on a project you were pretty proud of hasn’t been able to digest properly yet and when you’re in a bad mood you tend to let that energy project onto those around you. You’re working on it! But still. It happens. 

“I mean,” Namjoon continues, unphased by your attitude, “who’s that person that everyone is trying to go up to? Did we get another celebrity guest speaker?”

You put down your juice to look a little more closely. Sure enough, several girls have their phones out, large smiles on their faces, trying to get as close as possible to whoever it is out there.

You grab your phone and log onto Twitter and look up the school’s hashtag to see what the scoop is.

All you see is girls gushing over the cute new  guy.

“No one famous,” you sigh and pick your juice back up. “Just another dream boat that decided to join DRAP during the middle of the semester because popularity is clearly more important than education.”

“Ew,” Namjoon scrunches his nose and continues to eat. “I can’t wait until we get our degrees and can get out of here.” “Me too.”

“Do you think we’ll be able to get a job at the same radio station?” He inquires.

“Probably not,” you sigh. It’s definitely not the answer he was hoping for. His shoulders drop down and his gaze turns towards the ground.

“I know it’s not likely. I just hope we can. You’re the only one here that actually cares about the job. And you’re stupid good at it too!”

You laugh and bump your shoulder against his.

“Oh, Joonie. You flatter me so. No one here has your insane rap skills though. Let’s make a deal,” you sit up straight and pivot your body so that you’re facing him better. “I’ll become the best producer slash radio tech as long as I get to work with you when you become a famous rapper. Deal?” You slice your hand forward in handshake position.

He smiles at you and takes your hand gently.

“Deal. Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You part with Namjoon shortly after your mutual promise sealed with a handshake and head to your next class. You take a seat on the left side of the classroom, middle row, at the end by the wall so you have a place to rest your back against. 

This week the professor has been focusing on microphones; which type is the best for this sound, how to properly set them up, expenses, etc. All in all, it’s a very boring topic, but important nonetheless.

You’re begrudgingly pulling out your notebook and pen when loud, fast chatter starts behind you. In comes what you have to assume is the new student that has everyone losing their shit over. You turn around to get a good look before you lose interest and you immediately lock eyes with him. He’s gorgeous. Not gonna lie. The way his dark black hair just barely falls over his eyelids and tickles the tips of his ears has some sort of instant affect on you. It looks so soft, like it would feel heavenly to run your hands through. His button nose is to die for and his thin lips forming a breathtaking smile, no smile has truly compared to this one, hatches a dozen butterflies inside your stomach. And his eyes, oh, gorgeous! The way he softly blinks, his eyelashes barely kissing the tops of his cheeks...

At first, you are done for, smitten, lovestruck, in awe. You want nothing more than to introduce yourself to this dreamboat of a man, climb aboard and set sail towards the sunset.

And then you see how he interacts with all his new adoring fans.

He bats his eyelashes at the girl hanging onto his left elbow and turns his head to wink at the girl on his right. There’s someone behind him combing the back of his hair with a small portable hairbrush while another person rolls a lint roller over his expensive looking white cashmere sweater.

You roll your eyes and turn away. That little crush disappearing real quick.

There’s still five minutes until class starts so to avoid all the unnecessary gushing over this stupidly cute overrated wannabe famous boy, you pop in your headphones and crank up the volume loud enough to mask the background chatter but still quiet enough so that you can hear when the professor walks in through the door by the front of the classroom.

You uncap one of your pens and start to mindlessly write lyrics that come to your mind, taking bits of what you’re hearing from your music and trying to make it your own, a neat little trick Namjoon showed you that helps a lyricist get out of writer’s block. By taking bits of a sentence and expanding it further, or even rephrasing a sentence in a different way, it becomes easier to put your own spin on a song. Namjoon noticed a long time ago that your songwriting abilities were lacking and there was no way he was going to sit there and allow his best friend to struggle this hard. 

As you’re jotting down ideas, trying to make sense of your thoughts, you see movement on your right.

Someone has sat down next to you.

“Hey.”

At least, you think that’s what they said. Their voice sounds like they’re underwater- huh, that’s not a bad lyric. You stay focused on your paper and tune in more closely to the music in your ears, hoping they’ll get the clue and leave you alone.

Someone taps your shoulder before pulling your right headphone out of your ear.

“I said, ‘Hey’.”

“Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me,” you swing your body around quickly, restraining yourself from socking this person right in the face.

You’re about to say some very colorful choice words to this person when you stop dead in your tracks when you see it’s the new guy.

Your eyebrows lower in a confused and annoyed expression, eyelids squinting to see if what’s really before you is even real. You sigh and put your headphones back in your ear, returning to your writing exercise, immediately deciding this guy isn’t worth your beautiful angry words. Instead you choose to jot them down on the paper.

A few seconds after you put your headphones back in, your professor scurries in.

Which means you have to take the headphones back out.

“Alright class I hope you studied your notes from this week! We will be having a quiz tomorrow so make sure you come prepared! Today we will be doing a quick little overview-”

“Why did you do that?” The new guy leans in and asks you. He continues to look at the front board, his hands clasped together and resting on the table.

“Do what?” You keep your eyes on the whiteboard upfront as well, following your professors every move. You do your best to look uninterested in this new hot shot of a student, but your brain has blocked out every sound except for his voice. His low, slow talking, beautiful husky voice-

“Why did you put your headphones back in? I was trying to introduce myself to you.”

“Ah. I see I hurt your ego a bit did I?” You smirk and jot down a quick note of what the professor has written on the whiteboard.

‘The Shure SM58 is the ideal microphone to use if you plan on doing a lot of traveling and working at the same time-’

“I’m the new kid in school and everyone keeps paying me a bunch of attention except for you. Why don’t you like me and why do I care that you don’t like me?”

“Listen, kid,” you huff, sending some of your hair flying outward. You turn to look him in the eyes to make sure he hears the message loud and clear. “I do not care about you. I don’t care that you care about me caring about you. You’ve been here for two seconds and you’re butthurt that I didn’t say hey to you. Get over yourself. I’m here to learn.” You raise your eyebrow and jut your chin forward as a way of saying ‘got it?’ and turn back to the whiteboard.

“Oh and don’t go yanking people’s headphones out of their ears. Unless you want to get punched or something.”

“My name is Yoongi.”

“I literally don’t care.” You scoff.

He leaves you alone for the remainder of class. But you can’t help but notice how he looks over at you every five minutes or so.

“I’m telling you, Namjoon. Something has to be mentally wrong with this guy for him to just act this way,” you rest your hands on the back of your head as you and Namjoon walk around campus. You’ve just told him about your little encounter with Yoongi in class yesterday. Namjoon is amused to say the least. But, at the same time, Namjoon being the angel to your devil, tries to make sense of the situation.

“Hey now be nice. He’s probably been doted on his entire life and has never had someone genuinely not give a shit about him before.”

“Well he better get used to it. Cause I will never give a shit about some preppy pretty boy who thinks he has every girl wrapped around his rich delicate little finger,” you clench your fists tightly until you feel the pain from your fingernails digging into your palms and sigh with heavy annoyance before relaxing your hands. “I’m not looking forward to class with him later. Maybe I should just skip it. Or better yet, drop out.”

“Stop being so dramatic! Don’t let one guy ruin your dreams of being the best soundboard tech the world has ever seen!” Namjoon laughs at you and you allow yourself to chuckle with him. “And I know you won’t admit it, but you do give a shit. You give a shit about everyone and that’s why you’re so wound up about this guy.”

Your smile fades. You know you’re being ridiculous with your sudden hatred towards this stranger but it’s just easier to complain. And much more fun.

“Can we please sit down somewhere?” You whine and stomp your feet heavily as if you have rocks in your shoes, choosing to ignore Namjoon’s last statement. “I know our next class got canceled but I’m tired of circling campus.”

“Sure thing. Let’s find a spot in the courtyard.” Namjoon walks ahead of you and turns back when you’re taking too long. “Stop moping!” He laughs and runs back to you to grab your books from your hands. “My goodness you’re really letting this guy get to your head.” “He’s annoying and I officially hate him.” 

Namjoon just shakes his head. “It’s physically impossible for you to hate anyone. You can try to be as cynical as you want but you can’t fool me!” 

He finds an empty bench quickly and sets your things down on the ground, patting down a spot next to him.

You lay down on your back and instantly swing your arm to cover your eyes from the sun, your feet dangling over the edge as you let out another exasperated sigh.

“Okay. Now what’s wrong?” Namjoon chuckles lowly under his breath. You hear him unzip his backpack, probably going over his class notes like the perfect student he is.

“I can hear him coming,” you groan. It’s not a lie. You can almost feel the thundering of Forever 21 boots pounding the pavement from across the way, cherry lipgloss is practically wafting through the air. He’s near. You can feel it.

Sure enough, a few seconds later a hoard of girls surrounding Yoongi walk in from the opposite side of the courtyard from where you and Namjoon are sitting. You don’t even bother lifting your arm from your eyes.

“Whoa,” Namjoon stiffles his laughter. “You have, like, a sixth sense or something. Can you predict my future?”

“Shut up, Joon and let me sleep in peace.” The sun beats down on you and the warmness perfectly blankets you. It’s a beautiful day today, a beautiful day to sulk and fall asleep on a bench outside. Totally not like a hobo or anything.

A few moments of peaceful bliss go by and you think you might actually fall asleep when loud laughter and talking gets closer to you.

“Namjoon, please tell me the hoard isn’t coming this way.”

“Sorry, Y/N. But, uh, I think someone wants to talk to you.”

You slowly sit up, your eyes heavy with almost sleep and the bright sun makes you squint your eyes. 

And there he is. Walking right towards you. 

Yoongi.

He’s carrying a few books in front of his chest, his backpack hanging over one shoulder. A group of at least ten girls surround him, asking for his number, a picture with him, anything they can get. His black hair shines raven blue in the sunlight and the cool breeze picks up his tie from his chest, floating a bit before landing back in place. Leaves start to fall from the trees behind him and you swear everything around him is moving in slow motion.

“Fuck he looks like a sparkly anime boy,” you mutter under your breath.

“He what?” Namjoon almost throws out his neck with how quickly he looks at you, bearing the most confused expression you’ve ever seen.

Before you can think of an excuse, said anime boy stops three feet in front of you.

“Hey,” Yoongi looks right at you and raises his eyebrows up suggestively, a small smirk pulled on his face. 

You bite your tongue to refrain from saying anything to him. Your heart is pounding fast and, knowing yourself, you’ll just say something unnecessarily mean to him. Or...unnecessarily nice. And you’d rather not get beaten up by all these girls surrounding him who will, without a doubt, protect him at all costs and stake their claim on him. So you’re stuck in this loop of do you be nice or mean because either option will get you pounded by girls-which, now that you think about it, out of context doesn’t seem like such a bad thing. 

Yoongi stares at you. You stare at him. Namjoon looks back and forth between the two of you.

The silence is so awkward you almost dare break it yourself.

Suddenly, well...not so suddenly...Yoongi slowly releases his books from his hands, letting them topple onto the ground with a loud thud. You stare at him harder, confused as ever. He doesn’t break eye contact with you and makes no move to pick them up.

“Oops,” he says slowly and shrugs his arms.

“Okay literally what the fuck is happening right now?” Namjoon asks.

You hold Yoongi’s gaze, completely unable to look away except to look at his books splattered on the ground for a brief moment. But then you look back at him, unsure of what he wants you to do or what kind of gimmick this is.

“This is the part where you pick up my books,” Yoongi finally breaks the silence with a matter of fact tone.

Bewilderedly, you scoff and cross your arms in front of your chest. “Excuse me?” 

“I’ll pick up your books, Yoongi!” One of the girls around him squeals and immediately dives down to her knees, gathering up all his books and loose papers into her arms. She’s not the only one though. Every girl around Yoongi drops to the ground and starts reaching in desperation for his stuff as if it’s diamonds instead of paper. The girl who dropped first, and has the most items in her arms, stands up quickly and tries to fix her hair by blowing it back into place.

“Thanks, Chelsea. Can you go to my next class and set them in my spot for me?” Yoongi winks and holds out his backpack for her to take as well, which she eagerly takes with a high pitched squeal. 

“My name is Jiae but you can call me Chelsea if you want!” She runs off, the rest of Yoongi’s fanclub running after her, trying to pull books out of her arms so that they too can have the pleasure of carrying something of his.

Yoongi looks back at you and puts his hands on his hips. When he realizes you’re not going to say anything, he throws his hands up in defeat.

“I just did that stupid ‘drop all your books in front of your crush and see if they help you pick them up’ thing and you just stared at me like I was an idiot but joke’s on you because the person who did pick them up is way cuter than you and I. think. I’ll. be. dropping. my. things. around. them. more. often.” Yoongi’s animated staccato tone throws you off and quickly sends you in a fit of giggles as he stands there with his arms crossed and his chin turned up towards the sky.

“You wanted me...to pick up...your books...cause I’m...your WHAT?” You laugh harder, clutching your sides as you double forward.

Yoongi blinks as he watches you, clearly not expecting this reaction and trying desperately to think of something to say.

“Namjoon, let’s get out of here. I don’t feel like going to class today.”

Yoongi’s eyes widen as he watches you stand up and grab your things by Namjoon’s feet.

“But we have a quiz-”

“Yoongi, if you haven’t noticed already, which by the looks of it you haven’t, I’m one of the top students at this school. And if you know anything about Professor Cheong, which...again...seems like you don’t, you can take any missed quiz by the end of the week with a ten percent deduction. I think I’ll be fine missing this one. Have fun with your Sennheisers and AT2020’s,” you laugh and turn away from him, walking back towards the parking lot with Namjoon following closely behind you.

The rest of the evening is spent with you and Namjoon running around town grabbing ice cream from literally every ice cream shop that comes into view and running into random stores to see what’s inside. In total, you’ve hit about five different ice cream shops. Stupid jokes are made, lots of laughter, and endless topics are talked about. 

Well, all but one.

Namjoon tried to bring up Yoongi within the first ten minutes of your skipping school adventure, but you immediately hushed him up and resumed to pretend like the whole thing never happened.

Like Yoongi saying you were his crush never happened.

When it starts to get dark, you say goodnight to Namjoon and head home.

And that’s when you allow yourself to remember that what Yoongi said had indeed happened.

The next day at school has you feeling more off than that time you ran headfirst into a light post and gave yourself the worst concussion of your life. You feel it as you walk down the halls trying desperately to focus on Namjoon’s voice and what he’s saying. But nothing seems to stick. You know that he can see you’re not feeling like yourself and you are grateful that he has not brought it up. Instead, he tries to distract you. He makes jokes about the weather and how it’s cold one day and warm the next. He tells you about weird things his parents said at the dinner table last night. Little things that you can hold onto. Or at least try to.

The fact that a boy has you feeling this way makes you unbelievably angry. You’ve known him for two days and you want nothing more than to not give a shit about him. But those twinkling eyes...and that stupid button nose...they have you hooked.

But you’d rather drop out of school and become a nun than admit that you have a crush on the new guy just like every other damn girl on campus.

Crap.

Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. CRAP.

You walk into Professor Cheong’s class ten minutes early and sit in your usual spot. You pull out your notebook and pencils and attempt to do your usual writing exercises. But this time, not even Namjoon’s wisdom can save you from the wrath that is Min Yoongi.

Yes you learned his last name.

And yes you almost allowed yourself to stalk him on social media but on some sheer whim of sanity you were able to control yourself from looking at any of his profiles. Cause everyone knows once you go internet stalking...it’s real.

He’s here. You can hear the adoring girls getting closer and closer. Is he going to sit by you again? What do you do if he does sit by you again? Are you going to be upset if he doesn’t?

Stop thinking about him. Stop thinking about him. Stop thinking about-

“Hey.”

“Hi!-” You try to cut yourself off. But it’s too late. You reply to him immediately.

Dammit.

“She speaks! And doesn’t say anything mean to me! Amazing really,” Yoongi laughs and sets his backpack down on the ground and pulls back the chair that’s two seats away from you, leaving a nice and comfortable spot between the two of you unlike last time.

If only Namjoon was here to block the view. 

“You’re here early. Couldn’t get Chelsea to bring your books in for you this time?” You sneer, but it’s a playful sneer. You try to make it seem playful. Hopefully he gets that it’s playful. Please let it seem playful.

Yoongi winces and clenches his fists together for a moment. 

Playful sneer did not land.

“I feel really bad about that. I apologized to her. I really did. I don’t know why I acted like that. I guess all the attention got to my head and-” he takes a deep breath and pivots himself so his whole body is facing you. “I’m really sorry, Y/N,” your body freezes and your head shoots up at the mention of your name. “I acted like a complete ass yesterday. I don’t know why but ever since I first saw you...I just got really nervous and just wanted to act really cool.”

“You thought me picking up your books you purposefully dropped on the floor would make you look cool? Or yanking my headphones out of my ear while I try to work on something is you being cool?”

“I know I know it’s dumb. I just wanted it to be like in the TV shows, you know? I wanted to drop my books and you rush to pick them up then I’d kneel down and apologize for being so clumsy then our hands would touch as we reach for the same book and then we’d have this moment where we’d look each other in the eyes and I don’t know. I honestly thought from that first moment I saw you that maybe you felt the same thing I did. I mean, the look on your face was the look I felt on mine so I was just thinking that-”

“Jesus christ, kid slow down! Take a breath!!” Your tone comes out harsher than you intend once again. Yoongi’s head drops low, avoiding your eyes, shoulders sagging in defeat. He nods his head silently and turns his body back towards the front of the classroom.

What the fuck is happening right now? The current most popular kid in school has a crush on you. After barely speaking to you and only attending the school for a few days. What. The. Fuck. And yet...in some odd way...you can’t blame him? You immediately felt this magnetic pull to him the second he walked in the room on his first day. And that feeling hasn’t gone away. You wonder if he stalked your social media or if he had the self control like you did. Or if he thinks about the stuff he said to you and if he would go about it differently. Like you do.

You take a moment to collect your thoughts and take a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. “Yoongi...first off...we’re not in a TV show. You can’t just go up to a girl you’ve never met and expect to seduce her with just a snap of your fingers. It doesn’t work like that. You know nothing about me and yet you have a crush on me?”

He looks over at you with pouty lips and big, irresistible, anime eyes.

Dammit.

“I know all the other girls have been obsessing over you since you stepped foot on campus but...I’m just not like that. I’m here to learn. I don’t care that much about pretty boys to let it overtake my mind,” partially true. “so drop the act. You’ll get along with me better if you just be yourself.”

“Can we start over?” Yoongi smiles and waits for your response.

You can’t help but to smile back at him. You reach out your hand and he firmly grasps it in one of his own in a nice introductory handshake.

“Hey,” you say in a deep mocking voice. “My name is Y/N.”

Yoongi throws his head back in laughter, clutching your hand even tighter. It takes him a second to recompose himself. He bites his bottom lip to stifle his laughter. 

He looks you in the eyes and a wave of warmth overcomes you. And, you hate to admit it, his hand in yours...it feels right.

“Hey, Y/N. My name is Yoongi. It’s nice to meet you.”

#bts #hyunglinenetwork #bangtanhq #ficswithluv #yoongi #yoongi fluff #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi college au #bts college au #bts x you #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts crack #yoongi crack

[heimonas]

rayons du soleil

Gift for @wesawbears for the winter @aftgexchange featuring the hanahaki disease and some Christmas gifts! I know this wasn’t one of your prompts, but I really liked this idea and I hope you do too:) This is the last day of posting so I hope this was worth the wait!! 

Chapter 1 | 2

read on ao3 | 1.9k words

The idea of alternative worlds and timelines always haunted Jean. He wondered if somewhere, in another world, there was a Jean who never became a raven. Maybe he grew up in France and went to university. A Jean that went on vacation with his family in Nice or Marseille. Maybe he spent his summers in the sun, swimming, and eating those delicious almond cookies. A Jean who never lived in the Nest, a Jean who doesn’t hate Christmas.

He could only remember celebrating Christmas once before getting send off to the Ravens. He lived in Paris back then. Everywhere you looked there were Christmas lights and trees, people carrying gifts and being drunk. Their tree touched the ceiling of their house and it was full of mirror-like Christmas ornaments. His mother used to make this delicious cake, but he has long forgotten the name and taste of it. 

He was wearing a jacket and a scarf. Winters weren’t as cold as they used to be. His hands were freezing though. He wished he had some gloves. 

Jean had only just started drinking. It was forbidden to do so in the Nest and besides he didn’t really want to drink around Riko. The thought of him send chills down his spine. 

Him and Jeremy entered the pub. The atmosphere was warm, people were drinking, dancing, laughing. They sat at the bar and ordered two beers. Jeremy started talking about the upcoming games and their tactics and about how they should train more, but he didn’t want to exhaust anyone and blah blah blah. Jean really couldn’t stand how kind and thoughtful he was sometimes. He wasn’t used to people like him and it made him feel uneasy sometimes. 

Jeremy ordered a second beer and then a third one. He was already getting a bit tipsy. Jean couldn’t help but notice him a bit more. It was as if his golden curls and bright smile were illuminating the whole room. His skin was tanned and smooth and he really wanted to touch it to see exactly how soft it was. He once knew a boy like him. He was a new Raven his third year in the Nest. Riko broke him too soon. He had no idea what happened to him. 

“So what do you want for Christmas?” Jeremy suddenly asked, bringing Jean’s thoughts to a halt.

The question took Jean by surprise. He wasn’t used to receiving gifts. 

“I noticed you don’t have enough warm clothes,” he said. “Maybe I should get you a jumper or a hoodie or a pair of gloves-”

Jeremy suddenly stopped. He made a weird sound and his hand came up to his mouth - and he started running towards the toilet. Jean was surprised. He had seen the other boy drink whole bottles of vodka or rum before, but never throwing up.

He went to the toilet and knocked at the only closed door. “Hey,” he said. “It’s Jean. Are you okay?”

No reply.

“Jeremy, can you hear me?” he tried again.

Then, the door opened. Jeremy was pale and sweat was running down his forehead. He walked passed Jean, not looking at him even once. 

“I’m alright,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

And then he left the place, leaving Jean alone and confused, wondering what the hell just happened.

Sometimes Jean could tell when he was dreaming. It was like trying to watch a movie through a dense fog and commenting on the weird and silly things that were happening, but not being able to change it, not even one bit. That’s what it felt like.

Sometimes Jean couldn’t tell when he was dreaming. He would only realize it after he had woken up screaming. He mostly forgot these dreams, but not the feelings they would make him experience. Jean always had a feeling that all of his nightmares were about Riko.

This was one of those nights. Jeremy woke him up, calling his name. He was standing next to his bed, but not touching him. He had only made that mistake once, the first night Jean was screaming in his sleep. He got punched for that. 

Jean opened his eyes and for a moment he didn’t recognise him. But, as soon as his head cleared up, he hugged Jeremy. He generally didn’t like getting physical like that - with anyone. But at nights like this he really needed this. It reminded him of the way his mother used to hold him when he was a kid or of the way Kevin sometimes comforted him in secret. No one was allowed to see them. Kindness was punished in the Nest.

Jeremy wrapped his hands around Jean and let him breath. He felt his eyes watering and aching, but he never let the tears fall. After Jean calmed down a bit he went to the kitchen and brought him a piece of chocolate. 

He knew this dance far too well. 

Everyone knew that both Laila and Alvarez picked the best christmas gifts for everyone. They always knew what was best for each of their teammates. Except Jean. He really was a difficult person to solve. Not that anyone could blame him. 

So, they decided to take him with them and choose his gift together. Obviously they couldn’t take no for an answer. 

Jean didn’t really want anything in particular. They first went to an electronics store. Laila asked him if he wanted headphones maybe. Jean said he doesn’t listen to music. She almost had a stroke and they left.

Then, they went to an exy store. Jean didn’t like the quality of any of the equipment there. Alvarez sighed and said something about him being snobby.

After half an hour of walking around they ended up in a clothes shop. He was mindlessly walking around, pretending to look at clothes, but he didn’t really like any of them. 

That’s when he saw it. It was an oversized hoodie, in a very nice and warm shade of yellow. In the center, three words were printed in a vintage white fond; rayons du soleil. 

It immediately reminded him of Jeremy. Kevin had once told him about an old writer named Heliodorus. It meant gift of the sun. Jean wasn’t exactly sure why he just remembered that. 

When Laila and Alvarez saw him looking at it, they were very confused. It didn’t look like something he would like. Maybe it was the french that caught his eye. They decided to buy it for him. But Jean was never meant to wear it, it was made for someone else.

Jeremy was getting worse. He tried to hide it. He even tried to avoid Jean, but that didn’t work out. He was pale and exhausted all the time. His head was spinning and his stomach felt like he had swallowed a rock. The doctor told him it was a rare disease. They couldn’t do anything for him. The only cure was the person he loved, to love him back. Until then he would continue throwing up flowers until they choked him.

That day, when he went back home after practice, Jean was cooking. It was maybe the first time he had seen him do that. He was making chicken soup with lots of ginger. He thought Jeremy had caught a cold. 

Jean was one of those people who firmly believed in the power of chicken soup and ginger, even though he had never cooked it himself before. 

It really made Jeremy sad seeing him like this. He didn’t know the truth and he would never find out. He entered the kitchen and Jean smiled at him. This was killing him. 

He sat down on the table. 

“I think you should go see a doctor,” Jean said, as he was moving around the kitchen. His movements were fast and not very delicate. It was obvious he didn’t really know how to move around a kitchen. Jeremy loved that weird dance. He loved the sight of him. He loved him.

“You should cook more often,” Jeremy said, changing the subject.

“You should fuck off”, Jean replied, but he was smiling.

They kept talking about exy and their upcoming games. Jeremy was analysing the weaknesses of their next opponent, when Jean let out a sudden scream, scaring him to death. That dumbass had touched a hot spatula. He quickly got up and took Jean’s hand in his own to inspect it. It was slightly burnt. He quickly pulled him towards the kitchen sink, opened the tap and put his hand underneath the cold running water.

“Or maybe you shouldn’t try to cook ever again,” Jeremy said.

Jean gave him a pained look. As they were standing there, too close, so very close, their hands touching, Jeremy’s heart was pumping. He let go of Jean’s hand and distanced himself a little. He was feeling dizzy and tired. He wanted to throw up again.

His hand quickly came up to his mouth and he ran to the toilet. 

Jean didn’t know what was happening. He didn’t know what was wrong. Jeremy was acting very strange lately and, frankly, he was annoyed by it. He had started regretting caring, regretting trusting Jeremy, regretting thinking he was a good person. He was avoiding him and shutting him out, but Jean hadn’t done anything to deserve this. And on top of all that Jeremy was getting sicker and sicker, but he didn’t want to discuss it and Jean had no idea why he kept vomiting.

He was getting more and more aggressive on the court, more and more hostile towards his 

teammates. He kept starting fights with Alvarez in every practise. He pushed himself harder and harder everyday on the court. It was his way of forgetting. The only way he knew off.

He was sitting at the kitchen table. There was a cup of coffee in front of him. He kept touching it, lifting it, but never drinking from it, spinning it around. It was still very hot and his burnt hand was suffering. But, he kept forgetting about it and touching it again and again.

He heard the door open. He slowly got up and exited the kitchen. Jeremy was sprawled on the couch, eyes closed, one hand touching his forehead. Jean stayed still. He suddenly didn’t know what to do with himself. Sit down? Talk? Leave?

Jeremy opened his eyes. He looked very very tired. He didn’t say anything, just stared at Jean. 

“How are you feeling?” Jean asked.

“Absolutely fantastic,” Jeremy murmured.

“Did you go to the doctor?” he continued.

“No,” Jeremy said and Jean’s patience was running low.

“Don’t you think it’s time to?” 

“Not really.”

“Jeremy!” Jean shouted. It was like a glass falling and breaking, shattering the silence. “You are sick and you are not taking this seriously! What are you even doing? Maybe you need medicine or-”

“And why do you care?” Jeremy shouted back, standing up. 

Jean was taken aback. He hadn’t seen that coming. Jeremy never raised his voice. To anyone.

Jeremy let out a frustrated groan and stormed towards the bathroom. He slammed the door behind him. The other boy knocked and knocked, but Jeremy wouldn’t answer or open the damn door. Jean lowered himself and sat down. His back against the door, he was facing the kitchen. His coffee should have gone cold by now. He didn’t get up.

“Jeremy,” he said again, “Can you at least talk to me?”

The voice from the other side of the door sounded coarse and very close. Maybe Jeremy was also sitting down. Jean could imagine their backs touching, without the door in between. 

“I don’t know what to say to you” he said.

“Why don’t you start with the truth?” Jean whispered.

After a while, he started dozing off, welcoming the darkness of sleep, while millions of thoughts were crossing through his mind.

#aftg winter exchange #aftg #jerejean #fanfic #hanahaki disease #my writitng #angel writes #wesawbears #gift

[carameloveskook]

Hello! Can i request Yoongi is a prince? And the reader is painting his portrait... while he admires her.

Paint Strokes

pairing: min yoongi x reader

warnings: -

requested by: @mary-the-wise 💜

caramel: I love this request because it’s cute! I was about to go to bed until I saw this and I just had to write about it right away \(^0^)/ also like in my namjoon fic, yoongi will also be bolded

———————————————————————

Seeing the skyline above the mountains always fascinated the quiet boy every morning. The sun rising from the northeast, peeking from the mountains before unveiling itself to show the world its power. A knock can be heard behind him, looking away, Yoongi turns to look at his wooden door. ‘Another day, another heartbreak’ he thought, his father has been looking for a suitor for him throughout the nation but none of them were able to warm his cold heart. Taking in the view of the landscape one more time, he sighs before opening the door revealing the maid behind the wooden door. 

“Good morning your highness!”

She gave him a flirty smile before looking around the room for an excuse to spend time with him. Before Yoongi could say anything, she enters uninvited and heads towards his bed. Removing the covers, the maid bends over a little too much and stares at him with a smirk on her face. He heads over to her, catching her off guard, however, her fantasies were cut short after the blonde prince passes her without a glance. He heads over to his wardrobe and knocks over a few clothes before facing her. 

“This needs to be organized by the end of the day. If not, I’ll have you sent to the dungeon for that pathetic attempt of flirting with me.” 

The maid immediately regains her posture before mumbling a “yes sir” as she quickly heads over to the closet. Satisfied, Yoongi heads towards the entrance of his bedroom and grabs the doorknob. Twisting it open, he hears the maid call out to him however, he leaves before she has time to finish her sentence. With an annoyed expression placed on his features, he heads towards the banquet hall to get a better view of the sky. Seeing the pretty colors created by nature always fascinated him, he had undying respect for people who had the ability to replicate an image from their mind or what’s placed before them. Yoongi always wanted to learn how to paint but he never had the time seeing that his father forced him on multiple dates with multiple princesses that only liked him for his looks. “They’re too shallow. They’re too easy. They just like me for my looks.” Yoongi would tell his father right after each date making him frustrated and feel hopeless for the future of the kingdom. He just said the truth and it didn’t hurt anybody, well except the girls that would hear his insights on them from his father. Looking out at the landscape of the kingdom, he contemplates whether if he is truly ready to run a kingdom much less with a woman he might not even be able to choose at this rate. Seeing all the lives that work hard in order to survive below him, people carrying heavy crates, maintaining horses or even delivering packages from door to door, he felt insecure about his future rule. ‘How could they have so much faith in him when they don’t even know him that well?’ For Yoongi, he would have questions for the future king before he rules the kingdom for the rest of his life.

He looks down to the castle gates and leans over to see the guards greeting a petite woman with a smile. From his view, he is only able to see the top of her head and her large bag on her side. She didn’t look like a princess, no gown or anything, the guards seemed flustered as the girl cocks her head to the side and points to the large bag. The guards immediately grab the bag and look at each other with rivalry. Yoongi facepalms when he notices that they played rock-paper-scissors to determine who picks this woman’s bag. He frowns at them, wondering why they wanted her attention. They just met her. Moving away from the view, he heads towards the throne room to meet the daily line of hopeful princesses. Once he was there, he was met with only one girl, who he assumes was the one at the entrance. She glanced at him with acknowledgment before moving past him to enter the throne room. Even though it sounds really cocky for him to say, he was surprised that she didn’t try to make a move on him. He watches her go inside the throne room, posture straight and her features were calm as she faces his father. In his opinion, she looked more intimidating than his father. 

“Hello, sir.”

“Ah, y/n! It’s about time you got here! Yoongi, come here at once!”

The two turn to face the prince and Yoongi’s gaze heads towards the girl. Hues of whites, purples, and blues stain her skin and clothes as she stares at him with a smile on her face. Keeping his composure, he goes towards his father and bows before glancing at the girl once more. Her attention is no longer on him, and on his father. Her face was slender, but it was dirty with all the paint strokes all over her face. Her clothes were raggy and tattered but he didn’t think of her any less, all he knew was that he wanted to get to know her better. Shifting his attention to the king, Yoongi lets out a sigh of relief. There was no sight of any snobby princesses around the room waiting to jump on him for a way to the throne. It was just this girl, his father and him in the room. The girl suddenly turns to face Yoongi and brings out her hand. Confused, he looks towards his father who displays a disappointing look in his eyes.

“Yoongi. Were you listening?”

“Well, I-”

“Excuse me, your highness? We should really start painting your son if you want the portrait done by this week.”

His father looks at the girl and sighs. Before Yoongi realizes, he’s in the courtyard with her as she pulls out a large canvas from her bag. She points towards a stone bench and gestures him to sit down. Yoongi stares at her and notices that her arms were struggling to pull up her easel. Contemplating on whether he should help her or not, by the time he decided to, the girl finally adjusted it to her liking. 

“Can you pick a pose please for the portrait, something good because we can’t change it once I start painting.”

“Um…is this ok?”

“You want to be known as a grumpy king throughout history?”

“I’m not a king.”

“You will be someday, so I suggest you should at lead give a tiny smile.”

Staring at her, he attempts to put on a casual smile and maintain his posture. Looking satisfied, she begins to start sketching onto her canvas. Her eyebrows furrowed as she concentrates on various details such as his eyes and lips. Yoongi observed that when she was frustrated with a minor detail, she would bite the bottom of her mouth. Although he would never admit it, it was very sexy whenever she would do so. Finally, the structure of his portrait was finished, by the end, Yoongi let out a sigh of relief once the girl announced that they should take a break. Getting up to leave, the girl spoke.

“So what’s it like, being a prince?”

“What?”

“Being royalty, what is that like?”

“Aren’t we on break?”

“Oh, you are a grump aren’t ya? Well, if you want to make this process boring and long, be grumpy.”

The prince was caught off guard, no one, much less a woman would talk to him in such matter. It was brand new, and it intrigued him. Moving away, the girl looked towards her oil paints seemingly choosing what colors to use for painting.

“What’s your name?”

“You didn’t answer my question, why should I answer yours?”

“I hate being a prince, what’s your name?���

“Woah, Woah, Woah. You don’t like being a prince? Why not?”

“You didn’t answer my question. I have the right to not answer yours.”

“Touché, my name is y/n. Now, why don’t you want to be a prince?”

She begins to apply colors on the canvas and gestures him to pose once more. Yoongi looks down, before facing her. Seeing the various colors she had placed before her, she had used his arm to match up his skin tone using paint strokes on his wrist. An hour has gone by, and it was nothing but silence between the two. Yoongi was still contemplating on whether or not he would answer y/n’s question. However, he got distracted once the said girl pulled her hair up into a ponytail revealing her dangling silver earrings. They were miniature 3-D dragons with scaly skin, he was able to see them closely every time she would face him to ensure that she was using the right color before placing it on the canvas. Despite having only a few shared conversations, Yoongi was drawn towards the girl. Not once did she try to flirt with him nor subtly hint of a future romance. He was intrigued by her focus and how she was able to get the job done. He respected that and admired her for it. 

“I don’t think I would be a good ruler.”

The poor girl was caught off guard and nearly messed up on her portrait. Removing her focus from the canvas, she turns to face the prince. He breaks his pose and places a hand on his neck to massage the strains from being still for so long. She stretches as she lets down her hair and sits next to Yoongi. 

“What do you mean? I’m pretty sure you’ll do great.”

“This morning, I looked out towards the kingdom and saw how many lives that are depended on me without a say.”

“It’s because they trust you.”

“Why should they, they don’t know me on a personal level. They don’t know if I have bad intentions, not that I do anyway.”

“Prince Yoongi right? The fact that you are wondering these things shows how determined you are to please your future subjects. Plus, I highly doubt your father would allow you to lead the kingdom without being prepared.”

“If being prepared means finding an absent-minded queen then I’m nowhere close to ruling a kingdom.” 

“Why do you need an absent-minded queen? Wouldn’t you rather have someone who knows what she wants?”

“I would love one, but all the ones my father chooses are just power-hungry or just lustful.”

“You sound so cocky right now.”

Yoongi laughs at her remark, ‘she would be a perfect queen’ he thought. 

#min yoongi x reader #prince au #BTS suga #Kpop fluff #painter #min yoongi #bangtan

[elizabethrobertajones]

It’s interesting how we interpret things diff in fandom. For ex, I’ve always felt negatively towards dean’s use of sex as comfort Bc of my own experiences w csa but to some other people this reads as more positive on the whole. Do you think that maybe this is what makes people have such astronomically different takes on a character/plot event ?? Maybe this would also apply to 8x17 being read as conversion therapy while others wouldn’t see it. Not original thoughts but interesting nonetheless

Yeah, this is a whole thing in literature/media interpretation classes… You know what’s wild, it’s a pretty postmodern concept that everyone has their own interpretations and there’s rational reasons why we would see things very differently based on our own experiences. Incredibly this wasn’t always the case, and it used to be that there were definitive interpretations and analysis created by a sage literary critic which were then the be all and end all of the interpretation, even if with modern eyes those might seem inherently flawed. It’s why when we learn about historical texts they teach us both the context that the original audience would have interpreted it in, the stuffy academic opinion, a range of other thinkers, and importantly the modes of interpretation to attack it for ourselves, and a chance to write our own opinions. 

When it comes to fandom, people as a whole seem very set in the original stuffy one true interpretation thing, which is completely wild to me. I don’t see it as contradictory to read and reblog a dozen different metas on a scene and even if there’s one I personally lean towards, I find it fascinating to consider multiple interpretations and how they come across to people. And, often circumstantially, certain things seem to fit better than others. For example there are a few Dean hook ups I’m quite positive towards that he seemed to be in a healthy place and it wasn’t too weird, while others are quite tellingly wrongbad to me where he’s in a very poor place and it makes me very sad to see him trying to apply that comfort to very little effect. If someone writes meta that ALL of them are good or ALL of them are bad then I’m probably going to end up reblogging meta that says both to get both viewpoints to have the meta background to pick and choose to where it seems more suited to me to say either.

But I guess a lot cases people get really invested in their particular theory or analysis and can’t see past it either to how other people could think different things, or to find it interesting that they do, and to see how those ideas can be equally merited either talking about the same instance or how it can’t be applied uniformly. Some people just aren’t very flexible and get very angry about their one idea being challenged, even though something like a very specific read of a scene, like that 8x17 reads as Naomi putting Cas through conversion therapy, could be given a few different readings but it never hurts to say “this scene also can be interpreted as…” even if when you have your overall opinion of what’s going on there it might not mean as much overall. 

I personally read a huge overall narrative of Cas vs Heaven as a queer kid in a conservative family so it makes a lot of sense for me to read it that way. Someone who generally leans towards interpreting him as various other things such as portrayed as a soldier first or a metaphor for him being an immigrant among humanity, or other ways in which this metaphor don’t apply so neatly might have much less use for that interpretation but I find it super weird to think of the ones that apply less to a personal read as therefore wrong. There shouldn’t be a right and wrong in this case, but a collection of interpretations you can understand, respect, see the reasoning for, but at the end of the day are not the ones you fall back on for your overall personal meaning and understanding of the show. 

But then at the end of the day, I think the way we all approach the story differently and that leading to different interpretations also comes down to our need for validation etc. I approach it with a somewhat detached academic curiosity when it comes to the fandom’s meta project, as much as the story and characters mean to me, the analysis can be super fascinating but also not particularly relevant or “useful” in the sense of getting a clear grounding in tools to keep on understanding the ongoing show like abstract literary parallels to old episodes or whatever. Like, I just like reading essays branching off and exploring themes and parallels and such, while a lot of people are more interested just in hashing out a clear picture of what happened in each episode, what influenced it, and how to use those tools to guess what happens next or something, which is a fascinating practical application of analysis which is really a hallmark of fandom for ongoing projects and something I’d never even thought you could use analysis for before I got to fandom… 

But for people who are much more interested in a clear interpretation of validation of their readings of characters an plot, they just want the things which will prove to be the most accurate to canon and give them the clearest answer and vindication with new episodes, and that means a lot less room for theoretical asides, and for clear answers for what things mean so that when that thread of the story continues there’s certain ground on what it’s telling them… It means a lot less room for having multiple points of views on events and knowing clear right and wrong interpretations means that it’s easy to determine how things are going. 

Which I think in some ways can lead to quite aggressive fandom behaviour, not just in the obvious gatekeeping of ideas and fighting over interpretations, or refusing to engage with theories that contradict the one you’re most invested in instead of dabbling in them all, but also that when new content appears, people get upset or argumentative about events in very odd ways about what things meant. Obviously you can see it most with anti-factions which are aggressive about people applying interpretations about ships and stuff, but also with getting so rigid about a reading that if the story changes meaning, people are left in the lurch. 

To not be contentious about any current specific stuff so I’ll just use a large vague example, Carver era had very clearly defined symbolism and themes and tropes, but Dabb era didn’t use these and Dabb’s approach to storytelling is very subtle in some ways and really brash in others, none of which can be read like the carefully weighted symbolism of Carver era. I find a LOT more use in analysing the emotional arcs than the symbolism between showrunner eras, even when there is symbolism, it’s often… topically applied? Presifer sat with flames burning behind him in his staff meeting, but Cas sat in front of a similar open flame pit in 14x01 and I don’t think there was any parallel in their intent or behaviour, and I wouldn’t draw the two together, but to take the symbolism of each. But for some people who had been really hugely into the language of Carver era, Dabb era completely threw them, and was physically enraging by how much Dabb wasn’t writing like Carver used to, and there was a lot of upset about how basic his writing was and how wonderful Carver’s symbolism was, and how the show didn’t MEAN anything any more. Of course it still meant TONS, but it wasn’t being expressed in the same way any more, and by running headlong into Dabb era still trying to read it like Carver era, these people bounced off completely and could never get into it in the same way as when there were very prescriptive symbolic and metaphoric rules to follow which made understanding events so easy you could just take a glance at a single screenshot towards the end and explain everything about the scene and its wider meaning in the mytharc. 

(What’s interesting is that the show wasn’t previously written like this - Kripke era runs on mirrors and flips in a way which is actually more similar to Dabb era but minus, of course, 10 years of show history which makes Dabb have such a meta, kaleidoscope version of this, and it was in a very heightened, dramatic form which is very elegant and sublime and worked well as the tragedy it was set up to be… Gamble era was more like Dabb era in running more off emotions but lacked a clear symbolic language AND didn’t have the back to front structure Kripke did, being caught in the middle of completely overhauling the story, and I honestly don’t blame her showrunning in a sense that it was an almost impossible job to salvage the subtextual telling of the show from itself in the wake of Kripke essentially ending the show in 5x22 with raised middle fingers at anyone who dare continue past the original vision. Leaning into their trauma and the story’s trauma was a sensible bridge, all things considered, but it makes hers the least elegant storytelling >.> Anyway this is a total aside… it’s early in the morning and I’m just sitting here :P)

Anyway. Yeah, you can tell I do find it interesting to think about how everyone has all their own interpretations :P I mean I know it’s my own experiences which make me so annoying about having this uwu all interpretations are valid sort of approach to it as well, which is just another interpretation at the end of the day. Though I will be snobby and say I do think it’s better that people could read each other’s analysis and even if it doesn’t go hand in hand perfectly with their pet interpretations at least acknowledge it’s interesting and has its own merits, rather than dumping on it in a knee jerk reaction. But then, some people come to the show and end up with their interpretations because the emotional meaning they give is so intrinsically personal, another interpretation DOES feel like an attack, and trying to deal with people who CAN’T accept that some of us are just shooting the breeze and aren’t in a death grip to any one meaning can get very sticky. Especially when someone seems rational for a while but then on disagreeing they get very emotionally violent and it takes you completely by surprise when you thought you were just chatting and then it turns out you’ve hurt them in their most deep emotional place by being like, anyway lol whatever I still mostly ascribe to this other idea - OH NO SORRY D: WE WEREN’T ON LOL WHATEVER TERMS OH GOD OH - 

#Asks #this blogs stance is 'lol whatever' on most subjects :P #fandom problems

[blameblamebts]

rule number three Pt.1

Genre: Contract Marriage Au!/Romance/Angst

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

A/N: Not like I have 2 other series to finish :) sdhsgdgshgd i’m really excited for this fic ngl... enjoy!

Snippet + Summary /

gif cr.

   “I really don’t know why I married you.”

I frown at my newly-wed husband, who reclines back on the love-seat in our honeymoon-suite, shoes kicked off into different directions, picking through the different varieties of chocolate set on the table besides candles and flower petals. How romantic. I rolled my eyes.

Shoving only the ones he liked into his mouth, he chuckles.

    “I don’t know either—can you pass me the remote?” He points.

I glare at him, but he simply scrunches up his nose, trying to be cute. What happened to the well-refined Jeon Jungkook I had agreed to marry.  

    “Get it yourself.” I groan, turning on my heels, feet aching from the long flight.

    “Oh wait!” Jungkook yells behind.

Already annoyed, I still turn to hear him out.

    “I have a girlfriend by the way.” And right when his words leave his lips, the door-bell buzzes. “She’s here.” He says, immediately taking a stand, flashing me another quick smile.

    “Maybe you should have, I don’t know, told me earlier!?” I yelled the latter part of my sentence.

Jungkook waves me off with his hand, already at the door. I groan once again in frustration, this time louder, before entering the bathroom, making sure to slam the door behind me.

When I come out of the bathroom, I feel much more relaxed. The bath was something I had definitely needed. Manicured fingers pressed down the muscles of my sore neck, eyes taking in the sight of the empty Honeymoon suite. The suite is awfully quiet an hour after my bath, and it must have been for a while since there is no sign of Jungkook. He must have left with his...girlfriend, who had come earlier. I have yet to meet the woman, but I can already tell she won’t be a great fan of me, which turns out to be true, but we’ll get to that later.

Sitting at the foot of the welcoming bed, I stare at nothing, mind racking through the past few weeks and the decision I made a month ago. A contract marriage with Jeon Jungkook, a gentlemen on the outside, and a playboy...on the outside. He was probably just a slob on the inside, my eyes rolling at the sight of his coat thrown not-so-neatly on the floor at the side of the bed. God, and I thought he was some sort of angel.

Jungkook doesn’t return for the next handful of hours, probably fooling around with his girlfriend.

It hasn’t even been more than a month that I had met Jungkook, how would I survive living with him for a year if I hate it already so much. He was such a sweet talker though, that I didn’t regret my decision even days after I scribbled my signature on that goddamn contract.

...

Four weeks Earlier

Entering the designated restaurant Jungkook had texted me the address to the previous night, my eyes gaze around in awe. The place is elegant almost to the max, everyone seated wearing tuxedos and dresses just for the sake of a meal, there is a pianist sitting behind a grand white piano, playing soft music on the small stepping stage, and I gulp because I’ve only seen such in movies. Before I could even step up to the man behind the podium at the entrance, who was most likely the manager or something, a hand slides across my waist, my eyes shooting instantly to a smiling Jungkook.

   “Hello future Mrs.Jeon.” He chuckles, leading me forward, form stiff as I follow along, and I’m speechless.

   “—Hello, we have a reservation under Jeon.” The man behind the podium nods, a welcoming smile etched on his lips.

   “My father is probably here already—” He squeezes his grip around my waist lightly, voice just a whisper. “Don’t be nervous, this is just a formal greeting, it won’t matter if he likes you or not, you’ve already signed the contract.” Jungkook’s breath fans across the shell of my ear, making me shiver in his arms.

For a second I had forgotten that all this was a facade, this fake love that we—he, created for the sake of what he said was “family pressure”, which I highly doubt, was all for show, a sham. I sigh as he brings me along. And expecting to see only his father sitting there at the table, I see another younger woman besides the man, smiling as she speaks. She didn’t look too old, maybe my age or maybe a few years older, dressed even more elegantly than me, as she chit-chats with an older man, who I guessed was Jungkook’s father.

   “Oh. She’s here too.” Jungkook not so discreetly rolls his eyes.

I didn’t see what was wrong with her being here. Was she his father’s assistant? His older sister? There’s plenty of questions roaming in my head, but I didn’t want to be rude and ask. Instead I allow Jungkook to drag me towards the table, where my future father-in-law for the next year sits with a woman who is a hundred times prettier than me.

The woman leans in before brushing her lips against Mr. Jeon’s, a low groan emits from Jungkook’s lips next to me.

Oh!

He clears his throat and the duo turn, the woman’s gaze fixing immediately on me.

   “Jungkook, nice of you to finally show up.” Mr. Jeon laughs, his eyes turning to the small girl latched at his son’s arms, me.

   “You must be Y/N, I’ve heard so much about you.” His smile doesn’t falter.

I highly doubt he had heard of me besides that I’m going to marry his son, because let’s be honest, Jungkook doesn’t care enough about me to boast to his father.

    “This is my wife, Rose.” He gestures to the woman clad in a beautiful peach dress.

So Jungkook had a step-mother, that too so pretty. The woman smiles wider, taking my hand in hers, soft in my calloused hands, making me feel even more self-conscious.

   “Nice to meet you.” I manage to squeak out, but immediately stiffen feeling Jungkook’s lips against the side of my head, a soft kiss pressed on my hairs.

   “She’s a real beauty isn’t she?” Jungkook smiles at Rose.

Rose looks dazed for a second before looking at me once again, but grins yet again.

   “She definitely is. You have great taste in women, son—”

   “I’m not your son.” Jungkook immediately narrows his brows, his tone cold.

The atmosphere takes a sudden turn, silence surrounding us for a brief second before Mr. Jeon clears his throat.

   “Why don’t we all take a seat, Jungkook be a gentleman and let your fiance sit.” He smiles sweetly at me.  

Jungkook pulls out my chair, as does Mr.Jeon for Rose. Maybe he should’ve told me a little background information about his family so I would be prepared with statements like “So I’ve heard you play golf”, or “Is it hard to run such a large business.” Assuming that’s all rich people play golf. But of course, I sat there in the suddenly tense atmosphere, twiddling my thumbs. Our waiter for the night finally comes to our table handing out menus, sweet talking us into ordering the special dish of the evening, with some sort of expensive wine to go along.

   “Y/N, tell us a little more about yourself.” Rose chimes up after we order, well Jungkook chooses for me since I’ve never been to such a high end restaurant.

And I thought Jungkook talks about me to his family.

    “What do you do?” She takes a sip of her just poured wine, her glassy gaze sends a shiver down my spine for some odd reason.

   “Uh…—”

   “She’s a waitress.” Jungkook answers for me, eyes almost shooting daggers at Rose, the tension between the two obvious to everyone sitting at the table.

As soon as they hear his words, the look she gives me isn’t a pleasant one, or maybe it was me being paranoid, but I could swear it was there.

   “—And I love it because she isn’t like those snobby girl's father tried to set me up with.” Jungkook smiles at me, a genuine smile that makes him look so much more attractive.  

   “Well that isn’t a bad thing, but you know you’re going to have to leave that...profession, once you become a Jeon right?” Mr. Jeon says.

Wait...what?

    “Of course she knows. She’ll be helping me at the office.”

Maybe if Jungkook spoke to me about these things beforehand, I would’ve actually known. But still I smile and pretend as if I did.

    “Well it’s great to see you settled, or else with the amount of girls you’ve been with in the span of just a month had us so worried.” Rose sighs.

Mr. Jeon clears his throat once again and Rose looks up to a frowning Jungkook, and a dazed me. All I could do was awkwardly stare back at her, she covers her lips.

    “Oh I’m so sorry I should’ve thought before I spoke.” She apologizes.

    “Maybe you should think before doing anything at all.” Jungkook mutters, but before Rose could react, our food arrives

Thank god for that.

Maybe this whole thing would be a disaster after all. Torturously slow, but somehow, the dinner goes on and finally comes to an end. We find ourselves bidding goodbye to Mr. Jeon and Rose. Jungkook is so dedicated to putting on an act, I somehow find myself draped under the warmth of his coat by the end of the night. His hand links my own hand as he whispers something into my ear, which was “Thank fucking god right?” Except with a smile, to make it seem like he was whispering his love to me or something cringe like that. I refrain from rolling my eyes as I smile at his father and step-mother enter their car and watch it drive off.

Jungkook lets out a deep breath, hand retreating back to his side as he tugs on his tie.

    “Let’s go, I’ll drop you off.” He gestures with his head, because obviously he knew I took a cab here.

    “Uh..can you take me to the hospital?” I ask, and Jungkook narrows his brows.

    “What happened?”

    “Oh. Nothing wrong with me—My brother was finally admitted.” I shake my head.

   “Thank you.” I whisper, and Jungkook awkwardly nods.

It was thanks to Jungkook that I was able to pay for brother’s treatment. At least there’s one thing that came out of this marriage.

…

Present Day

The door closed rather loudly, making me jerk awake from the comfort of the couch I had fallen asleep on. Glancing around I see myself, sitting in the almost dark living room of the hotel suite, and I groan because I was starving.

I can see Jungkook’s form move about into the room thanks to the light the drawn curtains let in. Shifting around, I sit up, and Jungkook freezes, almost screaming. I muffle a laugh as he hurriedly turns the lights on.

    “You scared the shit out of me.” He groans, closing his eyes for a brief second before he’s glaring at me.

    “What?” I question. “—it’s not my fault you’ve returned so late.” I roll my eyes, feeling my stomach churn in hunger.

Standing up, my eyes trail to the male across me, Jungkook shamelessly checks me out, to which I scoff.   

   “You have a girlfriend, stop eyeing me.” The words come out a little more bitter than intended.

He chuckles, hands disappearing into the pockets of his trousers.

   “I’m allowed to check you out, Mrs. Jeon.” He emphasizes the last part.

And he told me he isn’t interested in me at all. Before I can say anything smart in return, my stomach lets out it’s own loud growl, making the atmosphere quiet suddenly. Jeon Jungkook blinks at me, and I flush in embarrassment.

    “Um...you haven’t eaten?” He itches the tip of his nose.

I shake my head, my arms wrapping around my stomach because I was starving. I sigh, moving along in the room because I’d rather not stand under Jungkook’s awkward gaze.

    “Where you going?” Jungkook chirps up, seeing that I grab my hotel-room pass from the table by the door.

    “To get food, where else would I go?—I didn’t bring my lover along to this trip, unlike someone” I mutter the second part under my breath.

The halls are much quieter than inside the room, seeing that there wasn’t a single soul in sight. The elevator dings in the distance and I sigh because it was probably really late. Glancing back, Jungkook had already found a comfortable seat on the sofa, his eyes glued to the screen of his cellphone. My heart clenches for a moment because for some reason I hoped he would actually care. Ultimately pulling the door close, which locks automatically, all I can do is sigh because I have to deal with this for another twelve months, and even the thought of it is disheartening.

…

One Month Earlier

    “Sir please, I need this job—it wasn’t my fault!” I exclaim into the cell phone, trying to keep my voice as low as possible.

   “You can’t just fire me! I’ve worked there for almost a year now—I understand she is mad, but believe me, it wasn’t my fault.” My boss wasn’t having any of it, continuing to accuse me of angering a customer.

   “Please. Sir. I really can’t afford to lose this job.” My voice softens, all my responsibilities flashing in front of me.

   “I—” The line on the other end cuts and I exhale loudly, because I had suddenly lost one of my jobs.

My fingers re-dial my boss, or ex-boss, in a frenzy, only to be led to voicemail, the automotive voice bringing my eyes to well up suddenly.

   “Fuck.” I whisper, fingers running through my hair as I stare at the blackened screen of my phone.    

I sigh, because I couldn’t stay out here long enough, both the cold night air, and the illuminating sign of the diner I worked at, lead me rushing back inside.

    “Y/N! Where have you been? Your break ended ten minutes ago.” My manager almost yells at me.

    “I’m so sorry sir, I got caught up with my brother’s doctor.  It won’t happen again.” I lie as I bow deeply, I really couldn’t lose this job as well.     “How many times have I told you not to use your brother as an excuse, it makes me feel terrible.” He groans, but waves me off as he disappears into the back, telling me to “just get back to work.”

Watching him walk away, a breath of relief releases from my lips, eyes closing as I inhale deeply once again. My eyes only shoot open when I felt myself shuddering from a weird feeling of being watched. However, when I did look ahead, eyes scanning the expanse of the diner, nothing seems fishy, nor was anyone looking. Fingers pressing down on the muscles of my neck, I sigh again thinking I must have imagined it, quickly composing myself, I attempt to look for anything to do, since not many people had walked through the doors this evening, before my manager catches me.

   “You’re very oblivious”

The low tone of a man speaking brings me out of my thoughts, sitting at the counter at the front alone, rather than at one of the tables, his eyes are on his phone, and I wasn’t very sure if he was addressing me or not.

Glancing around at the emptiness around me, around him even, I concluded that he was indeed talking to me. Looking up his dark gaze meets my confused ones. He sighs before taking a small sip of his coffee, making a bitter expression at the taste before clearing his throat.

    “That man at the very end table has been eyeing you all evening, even made some circles around the counter—you know him?” He questions, glancing back once, only to roll his eyes at the man who was on the phone coincidentally.

Quickly shaking my head, I return back to my work, although my eyes glance towards the end table every now and then. It’s only when my shift finally ends, and the creeper disappears that I quickly slip out the glass doors.

The young man that had told me about the end-table creep eyed me as I rushed out, and he raises a brow when he sees that same creeper start following behind.

   “Stupid girl” he mumbled, watching the man who had been on her case follow behind.

He shakes his head, downing the cup of coffee he had before, before he left behind. Normally he’d look the other way, mind his own business, but after the shitty meeting he had with his father earlier that morning, anything to distract him, he’ll take it. When he gets outside he sees a few other bodies besides the one man, all scary-looking, three others to be exact. The young man follows behind, closely, but not too closely. It was getting darker by the minute, the four men a few meters away were dressed in dark slacks and blazer, he had also happened to wearing similar clothing, and he rolled his eyes because clearly these men were part of some sort of gang, and he, was not. He narrowed his gaze at the girl who didn’t even turn once, to look back at who was behind her. God how oblivious does she get, he had thought.

The silence of the night had finally broken with the blaring ringtone of her cellphone, she halted in place, and so did the four men behind her, so did this young man. He could see the light shine back on one of the man’s face from the man’s own phone as he stared down at it. The young man narrowed his eyes again, this time a little confused. She knew them?

Do Not Answer

The caller flashed on the screen, making me nervous all of a sudden. I had managed to avoid them the past week, lucky enough to not encounter them at all today, thanks to the guy back at the cafe. Sighing I cut the call, and stuff the phone back into my pockets, but this time as I start to walk a voice makes me freeze, very familiar tone laughing as he calls my name.

    “Yoohoo Y/N!” His raspy voice is loud, and I slowly turn, frightened.

Facing the familiar face that I had refused to say I knew back at the cafe, I grip tightly at the strap of my handbag.

    “Avoiding our calls now too? That doesn’t make me too happy.” He says as he begins to walk forward.

The erratic beating of my heart is loud in my own ears, throat dry, and mind blank, because I really didn’t know how I would escape this time. There was nothing to distract them, no good-looking man in a suit to warn me, just them four, and me.

    “What’s wrong, suddenly so quiet?” The leader of the group chuckles, a heavy-set man has his head cocked to the side as he glares at me from behind him. Glancing behind him on the opposite side he meets eyes with two other skinny men, before itching the tip of his nose and taking in a deep breath.

    “Listen we just want our money, there’s no reason to run. Besides I don’t like hurting women.”

In a way, their reason made sense, they lent money, now they want it back. But what didn’t make sense was that I wasn’t even the one who had taken from these frightening sharks, and besides it’s only been a week.

    “I’ve told you before, I don’t have your money. Take it from Jinyoung, he’s the one who took the money.”  I managed to speak, masking my shaking voice somehow.

He turned to meet eyes with the others before they all broke out in laughs.

    “Oh Y/N, how can you call your father by his name—tsk tsk. I thought you had at least some manners.”

I roll my eyes because that man was a shitty excuse of a father, god knows where he was right now. Probably passed out drunk somewhere.

   “Such a small girl, but so much confidence huh?” He finally raises a hand, his knuckles coming closer to caress my face.

I stood still, frozen almost. Wide eyes and honestly, terrified.

    “Y/N!”

This new voice brings everyone to the silent path we had walked, everyone turning with narrowed and wondering gazes. Eyes glued ahead, the big man moves out the way, and I watch the figure of a familiar face draw near, almost sighing seeing the small smile on his lips. Hoping I wouldn’t die today. They all grow defensive, all turning straight to face this new man, wondering who the hell he was.

    “What do you want kid?” A third, scrawny looking guy says out in annoyance, and we can clearly see this young angel make a sour face at his words.

Finally he clears his throat, and we wait with almost bated breaths for him to speak, to explain.

    “I’m here to walk Y/N home—who the hell are you all?” This time his tone is dripping of annoyance, and suddenly I wasn’t so sure about calling him an angel.

The group of sharks are almost speechless because he had stolen their question, all four exchanging glances before turning to me. And all I could do was stand frozen.

   “If it’s money you want I’ll give it to you. Just leave her alone.”

Wait, what?

    “Who the hell are you to pay us back in her behalf?!” The fourth guy who had been silent throughout had finally spoken up.

He sighs, relaxing his shoulders before he speaks, a slight smile spread on his lips.

    “Her fiance.”

______

To be continued.

Check out the Masterlist!

#bts fanfic #networkbangtan #thebtsnetwork #sfwbangtan #btswriters #bangtan boys #bts #bts fanfiction #bangtan boys fanfic #bangtan sonyeondan #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook #bts jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook angst #jeon jungkook fluff #bts angst #bts jeon jungkook #bangtan boys jungkook #jungkook fanfic #park jimin #kim taehyung #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #min yoon

[dope-mysme-headcanons]

Can I ask for an RFA+V+Saeran comforting a sad MC? Maybe someone made a comment and they're feeling down about it but trying to act like they're okay.

Yoosung

You were both playing LOLOL and things were getting intense. You two were fighting a boss with a few members of your guild when you accidentally fumbled on the keyboard, messing up your shot that would’ve killed the monster.

The guild ended up losing and blamed it on you, hurling insults at you through their microphones. Usually you would just try and brush stuff like that off, but it was really getting to you. Without saying a word you shut your game off and stormed out of the room.

Yoosung followed quickly behind, seeing as you sat at the kitchen table, your face buried in your hands. It looked almost as if you were crying.

Sitting beside you, he rubbed your back gently, asking of you were alright. Lifting up your head you flashed him a fake smile, insisting that you were fine, you just needed to take a break from gaming for a while.

Of course though, the tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks gave the lie away. He pulled you close, rubbing your back as he tried to calm you down.

After a while you did, explaining how you hated hearing people you considered friends of yours saying such harsh things to you. Even though it was just a game you couldn’t help but take it to heart.

You both ended up putting a pause on gaming for the night, instead going out for a walk around the city to clear your mind.

Zen

His fans were going crazy over the reveal of your relationship. Some loved it, thinking you were adorable together, while others were less than happy about it. Your social media began to get blown up by crazy “fans”, every picture you posted getting met with tons of insults.

They ranged from blows at your looks to your intelligence, and you could barely stand it. You ended up disabling the comments under all your photos, but they still blew up your DMs and even Zen’s account.

He didn’t know how badly it affected you until he caught you looking into the mirror, poking and tugging at your face.

He watched in shock as you seemed to get frustrated, roughly raking your nails down the sides of your cheeks, leaving angry red marks in their place. Rushing into the bathroom, he pulled your hands away from your face and brought you into a tight hug.

That was when you broke down, returning the embrace with tears running down your cheeks. You told him how much they made you feel like you didn’t deserve him. How if you were prettier they would leave you alone.

Hearing that, he pulled away with a look of hurt. You were the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and anyone who couldn’t see it too was an idiot.

He made it a point to talk about you constantly on social media from then on, about how happy you made him and how wonderful you were. Slowly, the comments became less and less as the true fans defended you.

Jaehee

The coffee shop was pretty busy that morning, causing you to rush to get out all the orders quickly. Because of that, you accidentally messed up some guys order. It was an honest mistake, but he was a dick and decided to yell at you in front of the whole store.

Usually you could deal with an unpleasant customer or two without batting an eye, but this guy went above and beyond. Insulting not only your coffee making skills, but your looks as well.

Hearing how the man was yelling at you, Jaehee quickly excused herself from the register to see what was going on.

When she reached your end of the counter she saw as you stood there in shock, taking in all his insults with tears in your eyes. She swiftly ran up to you, putting herself between you and the man as if to shield you from him. From there she handled the situation, kicking the man out almost immediately.

After taking care of the rest of the customers she took you into the back, asking if you were alright. You tried to brush it off, insisting you were fine, but you couldn’t get what he said out of your head.

She reluctantly let you go back to work, but when she caught you crying in the storage room later she made sure you went home for the rest of the day.

Later that night she joined you, sitting with you on the couch and handing you a warm cup of hot chocolate. You took a sip, leaning your head on her shoulder. Yeah, people were assholes, but at least you had an amazing girlfriend to help you forget about them.

Jumin

After you two got engaged your faces were plastered over every tabloid and celebrity news site, and those rarely had anything nice to say. Some called you a gold digger, while others outright insulted your looks, comparing you to the past girlfriends of Mr. Han.

In the beginning you paid them no attention. You knew you weren’t a gold digger, and you didn’t care how you looked compared to the women his father chose to surround himself with.

You assumed it would all die down after a while, but to your surprise they kept coming. It seemed like there would be more and more everyday. Slowly they picked away at your self confidence, to the point where you hated going out in public.

Jumin noticed right away when you refused to go to a charity ball he was invited to. You absolutely loved dancing, why on Earth would you refuse?

He asked you later on that day while you were waiting for dinner. You didn’t answer right away, but after a few minutes of silence you gave in. You hated being followed around by cameras only to be ridiculed the next day for how you looked.

Being numb to negative attention by now, he helped you see the articles in a different way. Instead of getting hurt, you soon began to find them humorous. Like really, they were scorning you for wearing sweatpants at CVS? Who in the world would dress up to go to a god damned drug store?

After about a week you decided to go to the ball, and he made sure you were wearing the most elegant gown there. That night the tabloids had nothing negative to say, but you didn’t care. You were just happy to spend the night dancing with your fiance.

Seven

There was this one person who had been stalking your social media accounts for a while, leaving stupid comments under all your pictures. At first you paid no mind to them, but after a while they began to get harsher and harsher.

It even came to the point where the person started texting you. It was terrifying, you had no clue how they even got your number.

Instead of telling Seven though you decided to keep it to yourself, not wanting to seem weak or helpless. But it got so bad that you couldn’t even bear to look at your phone anymore.

After a while Seven caught on, watching as you flinch every time a notification on your phone went off. He finally intervened when the two of you were on a date and you checked your phone, seeming to tear up while reading one of your messages.

He stopped you right then and there, asking who was texting you. For a few minutes you refused to answer, but finally told him how some creepy stalker had been messaging you nonstop.

Making sure you turned your phone off, he made sure the rest of the date was as fun as he could make it to help you take your mind off of it. When you returned later that night he tracked down the guy, finding out it was a jealous ex of yours from years ago.

He made sure the guy would never contact you again, sending him multiple viruses and blackmail so he would back off for good.

Saeran

You were out on a date, taking a nice walk in the park after you had dinner. It was really fun as the two of you (though, mostly you) laughed and joked, that is, until you heard someone behind you tell their friend that your laugh was annoying.

After that, you stopped talking. It was something you were self conscious about since you were a kid, though you had just started to get over it. Now, all the progress you’ve made had been knocked down completely.

At first he thought you were mad at him, asking over and over if he did something wrong. You smiled, assuring him that you were alright and he was perfectly fine.

But still, other than that you barely spoke for the rest of the night. He couldn’t help but get concerned, watching you closely. He’d make a dark joke and see the corners of your lips twitch up in a grin, but he could tell you were trying to suppress your laughter.

When you got home he tried again, even getting his brother to help him out. Thankfully it worked and you let out a soft giggle, but as soon as it happened you slapped your hand over your mouth to silence it.

He definitely knew something was wrong then. He sat you down on the couch and pulled you into a hug. It was awkward, but comforting at the same time. At that moment you broke down, telling him what had happened in the park and how much you hated your voice. Seven had to practically restrain him from trying to find and kick the ass of whoever made the comment.

The scene was enough to make you laugh for real, causing him to stop struggling against his brother. No matter what anyone said, your laugh was the most beautiful thing he has ever heard.

V

He had asked you to go to one of his gallery openings, to which you happily obliged. You were having a great time, drinking champagne and admiring your boyfriend’s work as he spoke to various attendants. But everything turned to shit when you heard two snobby rich women gossiping about you behind your back.

They completely tore you apart, commenting on how “cheap” your designer dress seemed to them to how trampy they thought you were.

You knew the scene all too well. Ever since you started dating V you took a disliking to the rich women who often attended his galleries. All they cared about was their looks and how much money they had, and it drove you insane.

That being said, that didn’t mean you didn’t take their comments to heart. You found yourself self consciously tugging at the end of your dress in an attempt to make it longer. Cursing, you hated yourself for choosing something so short. Maybe they were right, you were just a tramp.

It was the middle of the gallery when V was finally finished speaking with associates and decided to find you. To his surprise, instead of socializing like you usually did, you stood in a corner observing the whole event with a frown.

That’s when he knew something was up. He joined you, leaning against the wall in the spot next to you and grabbing your hand. After a moment of silence you filled him in, pointing out the two women who were more than a little tipsy from the champagne.

He let out a laugh, explaining how you shouldn’t take to heart what two snobby women said. Besides, their husbands both bought photographs from him that had you in them.

#mysme #mystic messenger #mysme headcanon #mystic messenger headcanon #yoosung #yoosung kim #yoosung headcanon #zen #hyun ryu #zen headcanon #jaehee #jaehee kang #jaehee headcanon #jumin #jumin han #jumin headcanon #seven #saeyoung choi #seven headcanon #saeran #saeran choi #saeran headcanon #v #jihyun kim #v headcanons #jihyun kim headcanon

[superwholock-marvel-images]

Winchesters in Gotham (two)

You know Crowley has something up his sleeve to unmask Thrush. You weren’t anticipating the way how he would remove your mask though.

Crowley takes you hostage in a new way. He sends Batman on a wild goose chase in a bar, then renders you and Robin unconscious. The king of hell has one of his minions pick up your limp form (setting off the car alarm as they do so), leaving Robin alone in the batmobile. Batman walks out of the bar a bit drunk… the bartender spiked his non-alcoholic beverage. Batman notices that you’re missing and basically breaks down. “They got Thrush…” He slurs hitting the steering wheel multiple times. When the police come they notice Batman’s drunken state. “They took Thrush… I need to find her.”

“Give me the keys Batman.” One of the officers states. “You’re not fit to drive.” Batman just nods and removes the keys from the ignition switch and hands them over to the police officer.

When you come around you notice that you’re in the outfit you were in the day you last saw Sam and Dean. Your super suit, utility belt and mask is over to the side. You also realise you’re not tied to a chair, which is a first.

“Hello Thrush” Crowley says walking into the room. “Or should I say Y/N Winchester?”

“Congratulations Crowley, you discovered who is under the mask of Thrush.” You sarcastically retort standing up and walking around the room. “Are you going to tell all of Gotham that the girl under Thrush’s mask is a nobody with the name (First name) (Middle name) Winchester?”

“You’re not a nobody.” You spin on your heel and look at the king of hell in surprise. Before you can ask, Crowley continues his thought. “You’re a pain in my ass.” You sigh and sit back down and put your head in your hands.

“How long did it take you to figure my identity out?”

“Not long. I had a hunch it was you when you introduced yourself. You confirmed it when you started fighting… you have a unique fighting style darling.”

“Oh do you mean, being able to get someone on their knees in seconds?”

“I still don’t understand how a girl like you, Y/N, can be related to dumb and dumber.”

“Don’t talk about my family like that…” You run a hand through your hair. “If you just wanted to talk to me… why’d you kidnap me?” 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 -Batcave, no one’s POV- “It’s been two days Batman… and we still don’t have a lead on Thrush.” Robin says sitting down in one of the few chairs in the batcave.

“It doesn’t make any sense…” Batman says scratching his chin. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to kidnap the both of you to get at me?”

“Wait a minute, that person Crowley… he knows Thrush, and she did mention the fact that she has two older brothers.” Robin then snaps his fingers. “What if this Crowley somehow figured out Thrush’s actual identity then decided to use her as bait for her brothers.”

“Robin you might be onto something.” 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 -Warehouse, outside of Gotham. Your POV- You had five minutes of freedom before Crowley got tired of you and rendered you unconscious.

Small cuts and brises now line your arms, just because the king of hell got bored- he also said something along the lines of ‘I promised your brothers that I would help find you… however they didn’t say you had to be in one piece.’ When Crowley turns his back on you, you cut the ropes holding you down with your pocket knife. It’s a bit hard since your hands are tied behind your back, but you manage. You shakily stand up, right as Crowley turns around. “What are you doing?” He asks roughly grabbing your arm, causing you to wince.

“Let me go Crowley please!” You plead.

“Now why would I do that, darling?” He asks tightening his grip on your arm. You try to pry your arm free but you end up injuring yourself more.

“Let go of her arm or I’ll blast yours off!” A quirky, almost cartoonish voice says behind you. Crowley lets go of your arm in surprise, you create a bit of a gap between you and Crowley. You then see three women glaring at the king of hell. The woman who spoke has red and black hair in pigtails. Her outfit is one that Dean would have your hide if he caught you wearing anything like that- crop top and short shorts (like her hair, her outfit is also black and red).

“Who are you?” Crowley coldly asks.

“People you don’t want to mess with.” One of the other women walk over to you and removes her hood.

“Salina?” You ask in shock. Salina is one of the few people that knows Batman’s, Robin’s and Thrush’s real identities.

“You okay Y/N?” She replies, when she notices you cradling your arm.

“I don’t know… my arm is either sprained or broken.”

“It’s okay, we’ll patch you up.” Salina’s eyes dart over your injuries. “Where’s your suit?”

“Over there.” You say pointing just behind Crowley. “I’m not that desperate to get it, I do have a spare.”

“Here I’ll get it.” The red head in a green leotard replies. She then manipulates a nearby plant to grab your suit. When the plant holds it out to you, you take it in surprise.

“Thanks…?” You say in a questioning tone. Salina then glares at Crowley.

“If you lay a finger on Y/N ever again, Harley over there is allowed to shoot you.” The woman in the red and black outfit waves, tipping you off that she’s Harley.

“Now, baby face.” Harley says looking at Crowley. “You let us take the girlie, and we promise not to hurt ya.”

“Why should I listen to some filthy, pathetic girls who like to play dress up?” Crowley retorts. Salina smirks, eyes watching the king of hell. She’s watching him like a cat watches a mouse.

“You’re just itching to be shot… or soaked with holy water, your pick.” You offhandedly comment.

“I could say the same to you, Winchester.” 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 Salina introduces you to her two teammates. Harley Quinn, originally a psychologist that worked at the Arkham Asylum; and Poison Ivy, originally a botanist but she turned into a science experiment and now can manipulate plants.

“Nice to meet you both… I’m Y/N Winchester.” You say.

“You also happen to be Thrush aren’t you.” Poison Ivy points out. “I recognised the costume.”

“Yes… I’m Thrush, please don’t tell anyone.” You beg with puppy dog eyes.

“Don’t worry Girlie.” Harley replies with a singsong tone of voice. “Your secret is safe with us.”

“Thanks Harley.”

After you’re patched up, Salina takes you back to Wayne manor. “Welcome home Miss Y/N.” Alfred says when he sees you.

“Thank you Alfred.” You reply. “Where’s Bruce and Dick?”

“The Bat cave I believe.”

“I better go pay them a visit.” You get to Bruce’s study before Aunt Harriet catches you. Aunt Harriet isn’t a bad person, just a tad annoying. You take the elevator instead of the poles.

“Where is Thrush, when you need her?” Robin complains. Batman only shrugs in response.

“Have you tried looking over your shoulder Robin?” You ask in response. Both Batman and Robin jump in surprise.

“You’re okay.” Batman says looking relieved. “How’d you get away?”

“Our feline friend, Catwoman, helped me escape.” You answer. “Also the person who took me was Crowley, and he has taken me hostage before.”

“This has happened before?” Robin questions, eyes watching you full of confusion.

“Yeah, long story.” You reply rubbing the nape of your neck. “Anyways, what happened while I was gone?”

“Equally long story, you tell us about your history with Crowley and we’ll explain what happened.” 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 -Sam POV, Impala- Dean drums his fingers against the steering wheel with the beat to the music. The two of us are headed to this city in New Jersey called Gotham.

“Think we’ll run into Y/N in Gotham?” I ask.

“I don’t know if we will or not… but we can hope.” Dean replies.

Once we get to Gotham, I notice a girl that looks almost exactly like Y/N. I doubt it’s her though. It could just be a snobby rich kid that looks like my kid sister.

I look again, and she turns to me. A look of surprise crosses the girl’s face. I sigh and return my gaze to the road. Whoever that girl is, she’s not Y/N… at least that is what it seems.

“You okay Sammy?” Dean asks pulling me from my thoughts.

“Yeah, just thinking of Y/N.” I reply. My brother nods in response.

“You were staring out the window for awhile. What were you looking at?”

“Nothing I was just staring out into space.” Dean doesn’t look convinced but he drops the subject for the moment. The two of us sit in silence for the rest of the drive, until we get to the hotel.

While we’re getting checked in, I notice that the news is on the TV in the lobby. “Once again the citizens of Gotham can sleep soundly knowing that Batman is around.” The news anchor says.

Dean places a hand on my shoulder. Pulling my eyes away from the screen. “You’ve been a bit spacey since we got here. You alright?” He asks. I tell him off saying I’m fine. 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 I need some air, as well as answers. I tell Dean that I’m going to go grab something to eat. My brother then throws the car keys at me, which I catch with ease. I then head outside. I choose to walk instead of drive, mainly because the hotel is about a five minute walk from a nearby grocery store.

I get this feeling that I’m being followed, I slowly turn around reaching behind my back for my gun. I then hear a soft thud on the ground then footsteps. A girl, about Y/N’s age, in a black superhero costume, a utility belt around her waist and a (favorite color) cape moving in the breeze behind her, walks over to me. “The streets of Gotham aren’t safe at night.” The girl says. “What brings you out here at this hour?”

“I could ask you the same thing. Who are you anyways and why were you following me?” I retort.

“I go by Thrush. As for why I’m out here at this hour of the night, I’m currently on patrol… I wasn’t following you like a stalker. I was following you to make sure you get to your destination.” Thrush looks at me for a moment. Disbelief in her (eye color) eyes. “Now who are you?”

“Sam.” A soft smile creeps onto Thrush’s face. “When you said that you’re on patrol, what’d you mean?”

“See that symbol in the sky?” She asks gesturing to a bat symbol. I nod in response, a little confused. “That is the bat signal, it pretty much means Gotham City needs Batman, Robin and me.”

“What if Gotham needs Batman during the day?”

“The police typically call us if we’re needed during the day.” Thrush says with a shrug.

When I get back to the hotel, Dean asks me what took me so long. “I ran into Thrush… I have no idea why Crowley told us that Y/N is Thrush.” I reply.

“What do you mean Sammy?” Dean asks.

“The girl that goes by Thrush is not our kid sister. She is a completely different person.”

“Well that is underwhelming.” 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 -The streets of Gotham, Your POV- You’ve never liked lying to your brothers, but Crowley already figured out your identity and you didn’t want Sam to know who is under the mask of Thrush.

You head to the randevu point where Robin is already waiting. “Hey Robin.” You say.

“Hey Thrush, have you seen Batman yet?” You shake your head.

“I did run into my brother Sam… I didn’t say anything about me being well my secret identity.” Robin laughs lightheartedly. He also lightly punches you on the arm. “Did you find anything Batman?” You ask when Batman gets to the randevu point.

“No… did you two?” Batman replies.

“Nothing.” Robin replies.

“Besides finding out that my older brothers are on town, I didn’t find anything either.” You add in. Batman nods slightly.

“Let’s get back to the bat cave.”

“No argument there.” With that you, Batman and Robin head back to the bat cave calling it a night.

To be continued.

@the-third-winchester-warrior

@flannels-and-rocksalt

@always-keep-writing-spn

@winchesters-favorite-girl

@caroldanversinatardis

@the-writer-in-blue

@spnkisum

#nananana batman #sam+ sister reader #dean + sister reader #supernatural #supernatural brother sister moment #sam and dean winchester #lil winchester #winchester sister #sister winchester #winchester sibling #winsister #littlesister!reader #sister! reader #supernatural reader insert #batman #batman and robin #dick grayson #batmobile #bruce wayne #crossover story

[smile-smile-ichthys]

Out of Office Drama: Saving A Prince

(this is set a day before @whatdoyouexpectthistime last chapter leaves off, found here)

“Picked a nice bar I have to say” Takao said smiling kindly at me as we both sat in a very closed off, private booth.

“It was recommended to me so, thought I’d check it out, especially since we can’t use Kuni’s bar” I said, sliding all the way into the booth and taking a sip from my drink. No alcohol this time.

Since the security scare at MJS, me and Takao had agreed to work together in order to create stricter rules for the dating simulations in order to keep us safe. Not just us as staff, but them as clients too. I never would have guessed that something like this would have happened when I agreed to join MJS, but, I knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault. In no way was I blaming Miho for what was going on, it just annoyed me that someone was so willing to do this to someone. Actually, didn’t annoy me, angered me. We were helping people, sure in an unconventional way, but I’d heard from my first ever client, Jan, that he was already falling for the woman we had chosen for him. It felt good. Really good. And yet someone was selfish enough to sabotage that? It boiled my blood.

Problem was, the only thing I could do was to help with the rules and regulations. But, if it helped, then I’d done something good…I hoped.

“Well, good choice H” Takao smiled again, taking a sip of his own drink. No alcohol too.

I didn’t really know this guy very well, but he seemed like such a sweetheart, innocent but fierce when it came to his work. A proud man. Maybe we could be good friends, but just friends, not like I was with Saeki. Innuendos flying around, hints of one night stands every now and then, no, just friendship. And I loved that idea.

“So, these are the official documents that clients have to agree and sign to before the dating simulation” he said, placing the documents on the table “I’ve highlighted the main points that could need updating, the others I’ve left like the condom rule because that can’t be changed or updated”

“Wow, you’ve done so much already” I laughed, quickly glancing over which rules he had selected to be updated.

“Well, thought I’d make a head start is all” he grinned, a little proud of himself.

“Good job” I smiled back, getting a pen out myself and marking a couple of them “Ok, well, I think this one could be seriously updated, ‘no photographs to be taken during the simulation’, we could change that to ‘no recording whatsoever’, maybe even ban the use of mobile phones, like they do in cinemas and stuff” I suggested “like, they can have it on them, but…”

“But can’t use them unless it’s an emergency, yeah that works” he scribbled down my idea.

“Oh, also, this one about choosing a place to go for it, maybe we could put the ball in our court a bit more, we could have a few places we’ve used before and know are safe to use, rather than trust the client with a place, including his place” I explained and Takao nodded, agreeing with me.

“Yeah, that can take out a bit of risk, I can certainly check out surrounding buildings to the places you girls choose, that’s fine with me” he scribbled that down too.

It didn’t take us as long as I thought it would to work out some new guidelines, but Takao knew what he was doing and we managed to get a new document drafted within an hour or so. The time had quickly spun round to happy hour and karaoke and I was tempted to ask Takao if he wanted to call it a night, but…he was fun to be around so I didn’t want to ask him. He ordered us another couple of drinks from the bar and we settled down to watch people volunteer for the karaoke. The bartender, Agase I think his name was, brought over our drinks and suggested we have a go.

“OH, no, no no no, I don’t sing” I blushed, focusing on my drink.

“Thanks but I’m the same” Takao laughed at my reaction.

“No problem, if you want a go, just come up and say” the bartender grinned and went back to work.

“You said that with a lot of passion” Takao laughed at me.

“Sorry, I just don’t sing in public, in the car? Sure, just not like this” I explained.

“Can I ask why?”

“I don’t have a good voice, was told that when I was younger repeatedly so I avoid it” I shrugged.

“But you enjoy it? Isn’t that all that matters?” He asked. My God this man was way too adorable.

“Used to love it, but not when my music teacher always tried to convince me to not do a song” I chuckled, sipping at my drink again “so mister big time lawyer, what made you want to work for MJS?” I asked.

“You’re better off asking Miho and Jazz about that, I’m sure they will be able to tell the story in a much more interesting way than I can” he said.

Did he have little confidence in himself? Oh I was certainly going to be changing that. I couldn’t have someone as dedicated and hardworking as this guy and have them not have confidence in themselves. It was a crime. A crime to be brought to justice. I smirked to myself at the metaphor I had come up with myself when all of a sudden the microphone screeched hard in our ears.

“What the hell?” I asked, Takao turning round to see who was taking up the mic.

I froze in my spot. Was that? No. He was in ordinary clothes, sunglasses, even an ugly hat, but I was sure that was his highness Prince Keith. Why the hell was he here? Oh fuck-a-dee-doo-dah…if he was here…did that mean his snobby butler was here too? I glanced around several times, but didn’t see the ginger freak anywhere.

“Watch out Tokyo, I’m goin’ to blow your minds!” he slurred slightly. Was he drunk? Oh but his voice when he started singing. Oh my ears. Oh fuck no no someone make him stop.

“Ok, you surely can’t be as bad as that guy” Takao laughed, cringing along with me.

“Yeah, even I don’t think I’m that bad, I promise” I smirked, but kept an eye on the prince.

He wasn’t exactly accompanied by someone, and surely someone with that stature and reputation, they had eyes watching them everywhere.

When he finally finished his song, and giving my ears a good blessing of silence, he staggered off stage and spotted me watching him. Shit. H, don’t look, don’t look. He was walking over to me. Act normal, act natural! He’ll walk past.

“Why hellooooo” he said, leaning on the booth towards me. Shit again.

“Can we help you?” Takao asked defensively. Ok, I was keeping Takao as a good friend, such a gentleman.

“I believe I was saying hello to this fine lady, not you sir” the prince laughed.

“But I don’t think the lady wishes to have your attention” Takao retorted.

“It’s ok Takao, I can take care of myself” I smiled genuinely at him, then turned to his highness “I don’t think you really should be here sir, couldn’t be good for your reputation”

“It’s my night off, I wanted to come out and drink, so that’s what I’m going to, I get one lousy night off during my trip here and a woman I’m hitting on is telling me what I should and shouldn’t be doing” the prince growled.

I stood and moved over to him, putting on my flirty demeanour.

“Thank you for the flattery of your fine self ‘hitting on me’, however, you are hardly my type” I admitted “I much prefer a man with class, a man who knows when to stop, when a night in is a much preferred way of spending a night off rather than going out and possibly making a right tosser of themselves”

“Tosser? What does that mean?” he asked, Takao chuckling still sat in the booth.

“Oh sorry, colloquial language must go right over your head, tosser, noun, it’s slang, look it up one day, or if you won’t, get that snobby butler of yours to do it for you” I said, writing the word down on the palm of his hand, before turning back about to sit down again.

“Hey, only I get to say those things about Luke!” he argued back.

I stopped, staring at Takao who could see how angry I was getting.

“H…” he started, but I stopped him, turning back to the Prince. Sure, I was pissed, but I knew if I let slip his identity things could really kick off, so I whispered.

“Only you? A prince? Someone who should be treating his staff with dignity and respect, especially to those who are still learning, oh yeah, only you can call him derogatory names, put him down all the time, pfft, what a load of bollocks, you’re the reason why he spoke to me the way he did you utter bastard” I felt Takao’s hand on my arm, he had managed to get out of the booth and stand next to me while I was ranting.

“Come on, H, let’s go home yeah? If he is a prince as you say, it’s best we stay out of it, Miho and Jazz would be extremely angry if you were part of a scandal” Takao was right, I had to walk away, but could I? The way the prince was staggering and swaying in front of me, he could hurt his reputation very easily without his staff around. It would not only hurt him, but his country he was representing. I remembered my own monarchy at home and how one of my princes acted like this. As a young person I understood, but the elders didn’t. It was in the papers for months, even if this guy was a prick, he didn’t deserve that.

Argh! Why was I too nice? I hated myself for that!

“I can’t leave him like this Takao” I whispered to him, almost begging him.

He sighed heavily, ruffling my hair gently before nodding “I have a plan, but, it’s a distraction, people are already starting to stare, if you took him out it’ll look worse than if I did, so…”

It clicked.

“You want me to use my bad voice!” I sighed as well “Fine, one song, and that’s it!”

I stormed up to the bartender and requested a song. Agase looked a little shocked I was requesting something but he nodded and gestured for me to go up on the little stage. I hesitated when I saw just how many people were in the bar, but I took a deep breath, channelled my inner Jazz and took a stand behind the microphone. I had to play it up to turn the attention to me, so, I tapped the mic, some heads already swivelling to me.

“Erm, hi, I’m H and I’m gonna sing something, not very good or well I might add but, hey ho! Laugh all you want!” I grinned.

The music for the song I had chosen, How Does a Moment Last Forever, came on and I locked eyes with Takao, he would help my nerves, but also so I could see once he had managed to get the prince out. When the lyrics popped up I just, sort of, went for it. I was quiet at first, nerves sucked, but seeing Takao smile I grew in confidence. I wasn’t sure how bad I was, but it must have been bad because more and more eyes turned to me, enough for Takao to grin and nod at me, I was doing a good job. Ok. Good. Just keep going H.

When Takao reached the door, I saw Prince Keith’s butler meet him, completely frantic and angry at his prince for his behaviour. I saw him bow at Takao who shook his head and pointed to me. At that point I was past caring, I was never coming back to this bar, never see these people again, and I’d done a good deed for someone I despised. It would be a story and a half for Jazz to laugh at later. Maybe even Rose would appreciate it.

As soon as the song was finished, I almost ran off the little stage and to Takao who was waiting for me at the bar entrance, alone.

“All done?” I asked.

“All done, his butler got him” Takao smirked, folding his arms “that was good”

“Good? Yeah, good deed of the year done, I want to go home now please”

“That’s not what I…sure, let’s get you home” Takao chuckled.

Once at my apartment front door, I fobbed for the door to open and Takao stopped me.

“I meant good singing before, you should stop letting your past stop you from doing what you want to do” he said honestly “Saeki let slip the reason you came to Japan when he was dunk at Kuni’s when he was with me and Jazz one night”

“He did what?!”

“Don’t worry! Jazz stopped him by changing the subject to sex” Takao blushed but smiled “if you ever want to talk to someone and Jazz isn’t available, I’m here, but, please, don’t let those memories get to you anymore”

We stared at each other for a second before Takao bowed slightly.

“Sleep well, H, I’m glad we got some new rules sorted tonight, and saved a prince” he chuckled, waving as he left. Both of us having no idea what Miho was going to do the next day.

Tagging the ladies @hifftn @whatdoyouexpectthistime @smutmylifeup @nitelotus

#mjs marriage series #takao #prince keith #keith alford #Butler Luke #mfw #bmp