#local girl un-drops out of college :

[omegaling]

Hellcheer Headcanons: Where Everyone Lives and No One is Sad

Chrissy really, really does not want to go to prom and be put on the pedestal of Hawkins High Prom Queen like she knows she will be, but her mother’s already bought (and altered) her dress, and Jason has the limo lined up, so she’s trapped into going.

Jason is absolutely the kind of ignoramus who would propose to Chrissy at prom in front of their entire graduating class. Chrissy is too stunned to speak for a whole moment, then responds with a quiet “I have to think” before walking off the stage and out of the gym.

The Hellfire Club is having a session during prom, mostly as a way to help Eddie get his mind off Chrissy. They are nearing the end of their latest campaign, where their party has at last saved the princess who was put under an enchanted sleep by a wicked sorcerer-king who wanted to keep her for himself instead of allowing her to marry her true love, a woodsman who lived in the dark forest. Just as the princess wakes up, Chrissy walks through the front door, still in her prom dress and makeup streaking down her face. Eddie’s back is to her when she walks in, but all the others see her and fall into stunned silence. When Eddie finally realizes they’re reacting to something other than the campaign, he turns around to see Chrissy, and after that nothing else matters except for each other.

They keep their relationship quiet until Jason leaves for college and they don’t have to worry about him or his friends harassing Eddie for “stealing his girl.”

Chrissy’s mom kicks her out of the house for her refusal to go to college with Jason and turning down her cheerleading scholarship. It was only meant to be a scare tactic, but Chrissy never returns. She still keeps in contact with her brother regularly and her father on occasions, but all ties with her mother are gradually broken until she cuts her out of her life altogether.

After they graduate Eddie and Chrissy immediately jump in his van and take off for a two-month long road trip. They don’t have a plan, and the only way anyone knows where they’ve been is the postcards they send to Wayne and their friends.

When they return from their road trip Eddie and Chrissy take classes at the local community college. It’s not as glamorous as going to a university, but this is the first time in her life that she’s been allowed to do things at her own pace, so she’s going to take the time to figure herself out before she even thinks about planning the rest of her life.

College is not for Eddie. He only finishes a few semesters (kind of) before dropping out. Before he does, he takes a few courses on creative writing to help strengthen his story telling for his campaigns.

Chrissy discovers for herself that despite the pressure put on her by her mother, she does genuinely enjoy dancing, and puts her focus towards being a dance instructor one day.

It takes Chrissy longer to recover from her eating disorders than she anticipated, which becomes a source of shame and frustration for her. Eddie absolutely understands that recovery can take years, and that regressions can happen at any time, even if it’s been years since the last one. He knows the best he can do is just be there for her during the bad times, talking when she needs it, being a silent support system when she doesn’t. He never gives unsolicited advice or opinions; he just holds her and reassures her that he’s there, that she’s not broken or damaged, and that he loves her no matter what until she comes back out of it.

Eddie loves foreplay with Chrissy more than the actual sex because of all the different sounds he can get her to make.

Chrissy enjoys brushing his hair.

Eddie is the better cook of the two, which comes as a surprise to them both.

In the beginning of their relationship, listening to Eddie talk about his campaigns is like listening to someone speaking a foreign language, but it’s important to him so Chrissy always gives him her full attention. He’s also adorable when he gets this excited over slaying the undead.

One day, she helps him fix a plot hole that’s been plaguing him for weeks, and from that time on she begins showing more of an interest in Dungeons and Dragons and how it works. Eddie can barely contain himself when she asks him to help her roll her first ever character: an elf druid.

Chrissy sits in on a few games before she gets up the courage to ask if she can join. The first time she’s at a Hellfire meeting the others are a little leary about her hanging around, but they don’t dare mention it in Eddie’s presence. Soon, though, they not only don’t mind her being there, but start to enjoy her company as well. When she’s finally ready to join, all the guys and Erica make a big show of accepting her character into her ranks. At one time Chrissy would have been embarrassed at being put at the center of attention like that, but these are her friends who accept her no matter what, and she loves them all for it.

Eddie knows that his music is not Chrissy’s favorite, and lets her know he doesn’t expect her to come to every single gig if she doesn’t want to, or simply doesn’t feel like it. She still comes to as many as she can, if only to see him get giddy when he spots her in the crowd from the stage.

Wayne adores Chrissy but he’s not always great at showing it. Her first impression of him when she comes to live with Eddie after her mom kicks her out isn’t the best, since he blatantly tells them both “this trailer ain't big enough for the three of us and a baby.” Chrissy can’t tell if he’s insinuating that she may already be pregnant, but she can’t really blame him for assuming, given her situation. Eddie, on the other hand, almost dies of embarrassment on the spot.

Eddie and Chrissy have their wedding ceremony and reception in Wheeler’s back yard. It’s small with only their closest friends, but it’s perfect.

Chrissy does invite her brother and father. Her brother comes, her father doesn’t.

Dustin is Eddie’s best man at their wedding, and Max is Chrissy’s maid of honor.

Dustin custom-makes Eddie’s cufflinks out of a pair of D20 dice.

Chrissy and the bride’s maids are all pink, green and yellow at the wedding, while Eddie and the groom’s men are black and red. It clashes horribly, but it’s them, and no one can criticize them for it.

Wayne’s speech at their wedding lasts less than a minute. At the end, he tells them that he got them something that better expresses how much he loves them more than his words can. He hands them the keys to the house he bought them.

Chrissy eventually opens her own dance studio in Hawkins. Everyone is welcome, but she is especially protective over the little girls who are easy targets for their weight and appearance. She has an absolutely zero-bullying policy, and that goes for the kids and their parents, and everyone knows it.

Eddie starts writing his own fantasy novels, but only after Chrissy insists yes, he is absolutely a talented writer who can easily create something that is on par with Lord of the Rings. He teases her that that doesn't give him a lot of hope since she’s never actually read the books, but he is encouraged because of the faith she has in him.

He goes with Chrissy to every prenatal and postnatal doctor’s appointment. Every. Single. One. At first the other mothers are put off by his presence in the waiting room, but that soon turns to envy over Chrissy as they wish their husbands showed half the support as hers.

One of their daughters is a girlie-girl who loves Barbies, tea parties and the color pink. The other is a total tomboy who always has grass stains on her knees and leaves in her hair. Despite their differences, they usually get along very well. Their older daughter doesn’t mind playing with dolls with her baby sister, and their younger daughter will absolutely get into a mud-slinging fight to protect her sister’s honor against the school boys who tease her for being different.

Eddie uses Dungeons and Dragons to help his girls learn math.

Everything’s an adventure for the Munsons: grocery shopping, chores, road trips, snow days. It never matters how mundane a task is. Eddie never fails to make everything he does with his family as fun for everyone as possible.

Movie nights with blanket forts, lots of popcorn and candy.

Family-themed Halloween costumes.

Dustin is their kids’ favorite uncle.

Jonathan and Nancy are their childrens’ godparents.

Their house becomes the “safe” house for their girls’ friends as they get older, where they can go to get away from bullies, toxic family members, and society pressures.

#please no hate this is supposed to be fun #eddie x chrissy #eddissy #hellcheer #I might write a fic based off the first scenario #still undecided

[wickedsrest-rp]

Welcome to our weekly round-up! We do these every week to provide plot drops, highlight starters posted that week, and share other information about the setting. Anyone is welcome to use these bullet points in starters, plots, anons etc. Also let us know if you want us to include one of your setting-related plots in here for next week by sending us a bullet point!

What's new in town?:

Further mining efforts by EER have left Wicked’s Rest in a state of disarray as the anomalous sludge has covered whole blocks of land. People and animals alike have become encased in it as well, unable to escape as it slowly hardens around them. Check out our final plot of the week of Season 1 for ways to interact!

Local spellcaster, Molly Cooper, thought it’d be funny to play a joke on her classmates for Mean Girls Day. Unfortunately, she hasn’t quite gotten the hang of this whole spell casting thing just yet. So instead of just the college kids having everything they touch turn to pink when they asked what day it was on the fateful October 3rd, the spell has been a bit more wide reaching. Some parts of downtown may be giving visitors who ask the day a bit of a ‘Barbie touch’ for several weeks to come. 

It’s the most wonderful time of the year and as is to be expected in Wicked’s Rest, a handful of teens have already gone missing during their October games of Truth or Dare. Maybe don’t dare your friends to lower themselves into a sus looking well, kids. No cap. 

Every year, without fail, someone decides it’d be a great idea to host a music festival in the scenic town of Wicked’s Rest. Sure, all the ghost stories might seem like a good warning that it’s a bad idea, but somehow that only seems to add to the appeal. This year, the unfortunate event was an event featuring artists of the farmhouse grasspop variety. A little bit niche, but the festival goers had some interesting farmer meets raver looks… which has led to a chimera lit up with lots of glow sticks and the faint sound of a tambourine running around Seven Peaks. Members of Club Cryptid have started lovingly referring to it as the Fleetwood Men.

Starters:

Do you need a place to live? Hit up Arden or Wynne to become one of the worm-mate roommates today! (Or when the building is un-gooed, but what is a little goo bonding between roomies?)

Please read the menu before asking Van for toppings they just don't have, you're making frogs sad

Please do Dis a favor and collect your reptile, it is not wanted at Elysium Casino

Leila loves spooky season as much as the next nightmare (daydream?), but this feeling of being watched is not very cool

How is a vampire supposed to brood book and bother in these conditions when Cassius can't even enjoy a night hike without running into walking beehives

After a conversation with a not very nice classmate who might deserve burnt cookies Ariadne has to question if loving root beer is a character flaw

Who's got sculpting equipment lying around that Teddy could possibly borrow for certainly very normal reasons

If you know Archie's address you have full permission to break his door down since Wade (a truly good dog) locked Archie in a closet

Sorry folks in need of investigative services, Emilio has updated that Axis Investigations is closed for... goo? Apparently a fellow tenant named Jeff is hopeful that the update was a typo and really meant "for good".

Goo might be where Winter has really reached her limit, she's not trekking through that. If you're looking to make some cash, get a pizza to Winter ASAP

The PSA that many in Wicked's Rest sadly probably needed. Van is here to tell you, don't eat the goo. Ask Van for safer snack alternatives today!

It's a sticky situation for many in Wicked's Rest with all the sludge and Leila is feeling very generous. If you were displaced by the goo, please stop by the Party Thrifter for any clothing you may need on the house

Save Jerome, Owen's neighbor and send him two truths and a lie to prevent murder today!

Parker wants you to weigh in on the cats vs dogs debate and attach a photo if you must

#wrw #wicked's rest weekly

[hocus-pocus-crocus]

Episode √13: Jukebox Riot We find out that Louis and Victor are regular volunteers at Mossvale FM, the local community radio station. Its manager, the seemingly affable Mr. Slaugh, is actually a mean-spirited old cuss in private, haranguing the station's hosts for the drop in listenership. Riya, a recent Mossvale graduate, is singled out for some especially venomous words about her choices in music. He tells her that he wants the station playing what everyone actually wants to sing. In frustration, she invokes a demon to ensure that happens. In an entirely expected twist, the demon instead makes it so whatever music Riya plays, people are compelled to sing, transforming Mossvale into a rock-adjacent 90s jukebox musical. It's up to the Scoobies to figure out what's up and help Riya break the infernal spell -- because a still very much un-souled Sarah Ellis is feeling some particularly human stirrings from what the music is doing to her, and she'll cut the spell off at the source, even if it means draining Riya dry. Notable numbers include: Under the Bridge by Red Hot Chili Peppers Ruairidh goes through his early morning routine: coffee and gym, walking through the streets of Mossvale before anyone else is up. Each time the song gets to "I don't ever wanna feel / like I did that day," the mirror at the gym shows him at a different low point: In a coma after the first attack, waking up disoriented, difficulty rehab, and finally standing over the demon covered in its gore. Sheep Go to Heaven by Cake Mossvale College wakes up with this song defining a particularly uninspiring and drizzly Thursday morning where no one really feels like going to classes. At the refrain "goats go to hell," the Mossvale student body makes it clear that they know they're already there.

Rock n' Roll Lifestyle by Cake Quentin, Victor, and Ruairidh get real nasty to Laurent when he tries to impress people with his expensive rock memorabilia and a new bad boy persona, capitalizing on the musical world to try and get unearned cred.

Dreams by The Cranberries Reese sings a slightly punchier cover between brawls in the sewers as he and Ruairidh rough up local demonic bottom feeders for info on who's behind the music. He's immeasurably glad that his singing wasn't fully diegetic so Ruairidh didn't hear him call him a dream.

Who Will Save Your Soul by Jewel Quentin gets weirdly in his own head about not being able to find anything about this particular kind of musical demon in the Restricted Section. It's clear to everyone that when he says "Who will save your souls," he's actually talking about his own with one meaningful look towards Darkest Magic.

Come Out and Play by The Offspring Victor and Ruairidh take turns singing this one as tempers flare during a particularly failed planning session. All three other Scoobies take turns singing "You gotta keep 'em separated" as they try and fail to intervene between the two of them.

Flagpole Sitta by Harvey Danger Victor sings this when he finally breaks from the group to meet with Imogene, using his psychometric gifts and musical magic to show how his visions screw with him. "Paranoia, paranoia, everybody's coming to get me" -- and of course, we see Ruairidh still in peak demon hunter form.

Walkin' on the Sun by Smash Mouth Louis sings in a highly stylized montage as we see him smooth ruffled feathers with the Scoobies, check in with other important NPCs, and schmooze at Club Acheron for info that leads them back to the radio station.

Just a Girl by No Doubt Sung contrastingly by Riya and Sarah as the Scoobies help Riya confront Mr. Slaugh about his misogynistic horseshit while Sarah beats the ass of one of her lieutenants to bring her minions back into line as they prepare to storm the radio station. The catharsis finally breaks the demon's spell, just before the vamps can break their way through.

Closing Time by Semisonic The whole cast sing this as they pile into the back of the Jeep after saving Riya from a lifetime of damnation and a very fatal beating from Sarah. It's the last song as the magic finally starts to fade. During refrains of "I know who I want to take me home," meaningful looks to and from various Scoobies affirm who trusts whom and where there's still tension.

#mossvale #shadows over mossvale #hypothetical jukebox musicals #episodes that don't exist #mossvale apocrypha

[aspenmissing]

𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚗 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 (𝙿𝚝 𝟷)

The Impala zooms down a two-lane blacktop. Theo is driving, Dean sitting shotgun and Sam in the back, leaning forwards on the front seats.

"Come on, Sam, Theo, I'm begging you. This is stupid" Dean says, shaking his head.

"Why?" Sam asks.

"Going to visit Mom's grave? She doesn't even have a grave -- there, there was no body left after the fire"

"She has a headstone" Theo points out.

"Yeah, put up by her uncle, a man we've never met. So, you wanna, go pay your respects to a slab of granite put up by a stranger? Come on"

"Dean, that's not the point"

"Well then, enlighten me, Sam"

"It's not about a body, or, or, a casket. It's about her memory, okay?"

"Hmmm"

"And after Dad it just...just feels like the right thing to do"

"It's irrational, is what it is"

"Look, man. No one asked you to come"

"Why don't we swing by the roadhouse instead? I mean, we haven't heard anything on the demon lately. We should be hunting that son of a bitch down"

"That's a good idea, you should. Just drop me off, I'll hitch a ride, and I'll meet you two there tomorrow" Sam says.

"Right. Stuck ... stuck with those people, making awkward small talk until you show up? No thanks"

==

Sam kneels before a headstone, digging in the ground with a folding knife. The headstone reads; Mary Winchester, 1954-1983, In Loving Memory. Sam pulls out a set of dog-tags out of his pocket. He sighs.

"I think, um...I think Dad would have wanted you to have these" He drops the dog-tags in the hole and covers them "I love you, Mom" Sam says, tears in his eyes. Nearby, Dean and Theo are standing by another gravestone, marked as 'Loving Father', both looking pensive. Dean sees a dying tree, and stops, frowning. He nudges Theo and gestures to the three. They walk over to it, Theo knocks on the trunk, consideringly, then notices a perfect circle of dead grass surrounding a gravestone. Dean crouches down, fingering dead flowers. He looks up at Theo and gives her a serious look. Later, Dean takes a card from a man in a suit, then walks over to Sam and Theo.

"Angela Mason. She was a student at the local college; funeral was three days ago" The three walk together.

"And?" Sam asks.

"And? You saw her grave. Everything dead around it, in a perfect circle? You don't think that's a little weird" Theo says.

"Maybe the groundskeeper went a little agro with the pesticide"

"No, I asked him, I asked him. No pesticide, no chemicals. Nobody can explain it"

"Okay, so what are you thinking?" Sam asks.

"I dunno. Unholy ground, maybe?" Theo suggests.

"Un-" Sam stops, speechless. Theo and Dean also stops.

"What? If something evil happened there, it could easily poison the ground. Remember the, the farm outside of Cedar Rapids?"

"Yeah, b-"

"Could be the sign of a demonic presence. Or the, the Angela girl's spirit, if it's powerful enough" Sam nods, turning away.

"Well, don't get too excited, you might pull something" Theo says as they head to the Impala.

"It's just...stumbling onto a hunt? Here, of all places?"

"So?"

"So-are you sure this is about a hunt, and not about something else?"

"What else would it be about?" Dean asks, placing his hands on the hood of the car. Sam sighs heavily, shaking his head, moves to get into the car

"You know, just forget about it"

"You believe what you want, Sam, but -- I let you drag our asses out here, the least we could do is check this out"

"Yeah. Fine"

"Girl's dad works in town. He's a professor at the school" Dean says, getting into the car, followed by Theo. Sam pauses before getting in himself up.

==

Dean, Sam and Theo knock on the door and a man opens it.

"Dr. Mason?" Dean asks.

"Yes?"

"I'm Sam. This is Dean. This is Theo. We were friends of Angela's. We...wanted to offer out condolences"

"Please, come in" Then enter; he closes the door behind them. Sitting down, he shows them a photo album. In the corner, Dean is looking through an old book.

"She was beautiful" Theo says, looking at the photo album with Dr. Mason. Sam sitting in the other side of him.

"Yes, she was" Dean is standing nearby, looking at a bookshelf.

"This is an unusual book" He shows the cover of the book he's been paging through; it has carvings of Greek letters and a triangular symbol.

"It's ancient Greek; I teach a course" Dean puts the book down and walks over to the three.

"So, a car accident that's, that's horrible"

"Angie was only a mile away from home when, uh..."

"It's gotta be hard. Losing someone like that. Sometimes it's like they're s-still around. Almost like you still sense like presence" Dean says. Sam and Theo look at him, concerned "You ever feel anything like that?"

"I do, as a matter of fact" Theo is still looking at Dean.

"That's perfectly normal, Dr. Mason. Especially with what you're going through" she says, smiling sadly.

"You know, I still phone her. And the phone's ringing before I remember that, uh .... Family's everything, you know? Angie was the most important thing in my life. And now I, I, I'm just lost without her"

"We're very sorry" Dean looks away, Sam looks at him slightly angered. Then to Theo who looks at Mr. Mason with a sad expression.

==

The three are in their motel room. Sam is washing his face; Dean is leaning against a pole looking through John's journal and Theo is sat at the table.

"I'm telling you, there's something going on here. We just haven't found it yet" Dean says.

"Guys, so far you two got a patch of dead grass and nothing"

"Well, something turned that grass into unholy ground" Theo says. Sam turns to her.

"There's no reason for it to be unholy ground. Angela Mason was a nice girl who died in a car crash. That's not exactly vengeful spirit material. You heard her father"

"Yeah, well, maybe Daddy doesn't know everything there is to know about his little angel, huh?"

"You know what? We never should have bothered that poor man. We shouldn't even be here anymore"

"So, what, Sam? What, we just bail? Without even figuring out what's going on?" Dean says.

"I think I know what's going on here. It's the only reason I went along with you this far"

"What are you talking about?"

"This is about Mom's grave" Theo looks at Sam, then to Dean. Dean scoffs.

"That's got nothing to do with it"

"You wouldn't step within a hundred yards of it. Look. Maybe you're imagining a hunt where there isn't one so you don't have to think about Mom. Or Dad" Dean turns to look at him. Sam sighs "You wanna take another swing? Go ahead, if it'll make you feel better"

"And If he does, he'll have to deal with me" Theo says. Dean shakes his head.

"I don't need this crap" Dean grabs his jacket and the keys from the table and starts for the door.

"Dean, where're you going?" Sam asks.

"I'm going to go get a drink. Alone" Dean leaves. Sam turns to Theo who shrugs.

"I'll talk to him" She walks out and jogs over to Dean "Hey man, wait up"

"I said I wanted to be alone" he says, and gets into the Impala, Theo following in and getting into shotgun.

"Stop being Mr grumpy pants. Where's my goofy twin brother who never turns his sister down when she wants to have a shot competition with him" she says, smirking. Dean looks at her before huffing a laugh.

"Your right...I am Mr grumpy pants" He pauses for a second, then starts the engine "But I guess a shot or two couldn't hurt" He says, smiling at Theo.

"Super Twin..." She says, holding out her fist.

"Fist bump..." Dean finished, fist bumping Theo. Dean pulls out the parking lot. 'Eye of the Tiger' playing in the background. The two starts singing along.

==

It's early in the morning, Dean had dropped off Theo back at the motel then drives to an apartment. Dean enters an apartment using his card. He looks around, picks up a framed picture. He glimpses a figure in reflection, a young girl wearing shorts and a top comes out of a room, seeing Dean.

"Who the hell are you?" She asks She turns and shuts herself in her bedroom.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, hold on!"

"I'm calling 9-1-1!"

"I'm Angela's cousin!"

"What?"

"Yeah, her dad sent me over to, uh, pick up her stuff, my name's Alan? Alan Stanwick?"

"Her dad didn't say that you were coming" she says, opening the door.

"Well, I mean" Dean holds up a set of keys "How else would I the key to your place?" He laughs reassuringly and a bit uncomfortably.

==

In the living room, Dean hands the girl a Kleenex. She's crying, and Dean looks slightly uncomfortable, wishing he brought Theo.

"So I'm sure you got a, a view of Angela that none of the family got to see. Tell me, what, what was she like? I mean, what was she really like?"

"She was great"

"Hmm"

"Just great, I mean, she was so...so..."

"Great" Dean finishes for her.

"Yeah. Yeah" She starts crying again.

"Yeah" Dean hands her another tissue "Here you go. You two must have been really close, huh?"

"We were. But it's not just her, it's Matt"

"Who?" Dean asks.

"Angela's boyfriend"

"Right, Matt. What about him"

"He killed himself last night. He cut his own throat. Who does that?"

"That's- terrible"

"He was taking Angela's death pretty hard, and I guess...I mean, he'd been messed up about it for days"

"Messed up how?" Dean asks.

"He kept saying that he saw her everywhere"

"Well, I'm, I'm sure that, that's normal, I mean with everything that he was going through"

"No, he said that he saw her. As in, an acid trip or something"

"Were Angela and Matt a happy couple? I mean, is there any reason that Angela would be angry with him?"

"What? No, of course not, why do you ask?"

"Just asking. Where did Matt live?"

==

Sam is sitting on the edge of the bed watching television.

"Next, on the Skin channel, Casa Erotica Four. A tale of two Latin beauties..." Dean opens the door, and Sam looks around, startled. He shuts off the TV and tosses down the remote.

"Hey" Dean enters slowly, glancing between the television and Sam "What?"

"Awkward" They then hear the door open again and Theo walks in holding a can of pop in her hand and a bagel in her mouth, and a bag in the other. She takes the bagel out of her mouth, using her hand with the can.

"Sam sitting on the edge of the bed, remote looks like it was thrown down quickly. Tv off, when I left it was on; Dean looking slightly uncomfortable as if he walked in on something he regretted...Awkward”. She says and walks over to the table, setting her can down, the bag and her bagel down. "Where in the hell were you?"

"Working my imaginary case"

"Yeah? And?" Sam says.

"Well, you were right, I didn't find much" Sam nods, sympathetic "Yeah. Except Angela's boyfriend died last night. Slit his own throat. But, you know, that's normal. Uh, let's see, what else. Oh, he was seeing Angela everywhere before he died. But you know, I'm sure that's just me transferring my own feelings" Theo shakes her head at Dean, then munches on her bagel.

"Okay, I get it. I'm sorry, maybe there is something going on here"

"Maybe? Sam, I know how to do my job, despite what you might think"

"We should check out the guy's apartment" Dean sits down on a chair next to Theo, snatching a quick bite out of her bagel. She furrows her eyebrows.

"I just came from there. Pile of dead plants, just like the cemetery. Hell, dead goldfish too"

"Poor gold fish" Theo mutters.

"So, unholy ground?"

"Maybe. I'm still not getting that powerful angry spirit vibe from Angela" He gets up, crosses the room to pick up a pink book. "I have been reading this, though"

"You can't just go through a girl's diary, Dean. Haven’t you learned your lesson after she read mine" Dean shivers slightly.

"Anyway, if anything the girl's a little too much"

"So, what do you want to do?" Sam asks.

"Keep digging, talk to more of her friends"

"You get any names?"

"Are you kidding me? I have her best friend in the whole wide world" Holding the diary. Dean passes the diary to Sam. Theo then stands up and Sam passes her the diary.

"Not a single ounce of privacy in him" Theo says as she opens the diary "Oooh~"

"Not a single ounce of privacy you say" Sam says. Theo looks at him and shrugs.

==

The three arrive at a house and talk to a young man.

"I didn't realize the college employed grief counsellors. Especially ones that are pretty" He says, looking at Theo who huffs a laugh.

"Every time" She mutters through her teeth, luckily only Sam and Dean hear her and chuckles at her.

"Oh yeah. Yeah, you know, we listen. Or maybe in a little therapeutic collage, whatever jump-starts the healing"

"Well, I think I'm okay. Thanks" The young man says about to walk away only to be stopped by Sam.

"Well, you heard what happened to Matt Harrison, right?"

"Yeah, I did"

"Well, we just wanted to make sure you were okay. Grief can make people do crazy things"

"Look, I'm sorry about what happened to him. I am. But if Matt killed himself, it wasn't 'cause of grief"

"No? Then why?"

"It was guilt. Angie's death was Matt's fault and he knew it"

"How was Matt responsible?" Theo asks.

"Well, she really loved that guy. But the night of the accident she walked in on him with another girl" Theo, Sam and Dean's face drops.

"Hmm"

"Poor girl" Theo says.

"She was really torn up, that's why she crashed the car. Um, look, I gotta get ready for work, so ... thanks for the concern, but... seriously, I'll be okay" The young man goes back into the house, leaving the three on the porch. Dean turns and looks significantly at Sam and Theo. The three walk away from the house.

"Well, that vengeful spirit theory's starting to make a little more sense. I mean, hell hath no fury..." Theo says[ec1] .

"So, if Angela got her revenge on Matt, you think it's over?"

"Well, there's one way to be sure" Dean says. The three get in the car.

"Yeah? What's that?" Sam asks.

"Burn the bones"

"Burn the bones?" Theo scoffs "Are you high?" Dean thinks about that "Angela died last week!"

"So?"

"So, there's not gonna be bones. They're gonna be a ripe, rotting body in the coffin"

"Since when are you afraid to get dirty? Huh" Dean says. Y/N looks horrified.

==

Now at the graveyard, Dean, Sam and Theo dig at Angela's gravesite. They're panting and sweating with exertion. Standing on the coffin, Dean clears the rest of the dirt off and turns to Sam.

"Ladies first" Sam looks at Theo confused.

"Sorry, Sammy. But outta me and you, you’re the lady" Sam huffs and hands Dean his flashlight.

"Hold that" Sam opens the coffin, wincing in preparation- but the coffin is empty. They three looks at each other.

#supernatural #older sister winchester #oc insert #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fandom

[lavenderbexlatte]

more & more

stray kids 2.6k words female reader insert FemDom!Reader x Sub!3RACHA mature

🖤 warnings: light degradation 🖤

Series Masterlist (Parts 1-7)

connect with me! / masterlist

It’s all three of them. 

When that happened, you’re not quite sure. This is why you hate house parties, hate being messy drunk all on your own. There’s so many people milling around, crashing on couches, watching movies in the low light, disappearing into bedrooms to do God knows what.

You’re leaning on the wall, just watching the room at large. It’s a den, of some sort, a living room. A family room? You don’t know. There are long, worn, slouching sectional couches and a coffee table laden with bottles and cups. A television playing some movie casts a gentle bluish light over everything. It’s the quietest room in the house by far; you can hear loud laughter from the kitchen and bumping music from the backyard. You were content to just people-watch, enjoy being innocently drunk on your own and watching other people be less-innocently smashed.

This isn’t your first solo party, but it’s by far the most boring. Usually by now you’ve made a few friends who’ll carry you through the night, fun to dance and drink with and probably never see again. Not tonight. Up until now, it’s just been you, a series of drinks that you fished out of the fridge yourself, and lots of empty space.

But now, you’re surrounded by all three of them. On your left, Chan, propped casually on the wall himself, like he just happened to be there. On your right, Jisung, looking at you with that stupid grin, the really big one that shows his crooked tooth and pushes up his round cheeks. And right in front of you, Changbin, just regarding you coolly.

You know them. Everyone knows them. It’s far more surprising that they know you.

Because those three, they’re popular. Popular in a way that you didn’t really know could happen on an enormous college campus. Everyone knows them: Chan the music production major, president of the business honors frat; Changbin the creative writing whiz, Model UN president; Jisung, music major, only a sophomore but already leading the music honors society. They formed a project group once for a music production class project, as the legend goes, and the rap song they wrote, performed, and produced went Soundcloud viral. The rest is history. They’re local celebrities now, inseparable and insufferable.

They sit in front of you in your Physics 101 lecture. It’s a science class for nonscience majors, so you do alright for yourself, but you have no idea how these three are acing it the way they are. They talk and joke and write rap lyrics during class; Chan always has his production software open on his laptop, and Jisung is constantly scribbling down verses and bits. You’d think it was Changbin keeping them afloat, but he’s usually half asleep, propped up on one elbow as he nods off.

Not that you pay attention. Not that you care.

You’d care less if they weren’t so attractive. They’re all colored hair and big personality and annoying loud laughs while you’re trying to remember how to calculate redshift, apologies and soft smiles when their chairs bump into your desk.

The four of you even did a class project together once, a small star observation thing that only took a few hours, but it was a few hours of nighttime with them. But you were never close, you never even really talked beyond the basic chit-chat of classmates. You can barely remember their last names. You’re sure they don’t know yours.

So there’s really no reason for the three of them to be looking at you the way they are right now, on either side and directly in front of you, eyes trained on you.

You’re caged in, but you don’t hate it. You kind of like it. Really like it.

Changbin doesn’t say anything. None of them do. You don’t either. You just look at Changbin, your back pressed against the wall. He lifts one arm, all biceps and triceps and shoulders in a tight t-shirt, and rests his palm flat on the wall over your shoulder. He’s barely taller than you, but you feel pinned there, thoroughly caged in. It’s not a feeling you’re used to, and it sends a funny little thrill down your spine.

You break the silence first. “What are you doing?”

Changbin just keeps looking it you. It’s Chan who answers.

“Taking a risk.”

Huh.

You don’t say anything to that, just fixing Changbin with an even stare back. He leans forward, just enough that you think, oh Christ, he’s gonna kiss me.

He keeps coming until he doesn’t.

He veers to the side, right as your eyes flutter shut, and you open them to find his lips on Jisung’s, just a short tender press that leaves Jisung laughing after him. The big arm keeping you against the wall, holding you without even touching you, drops back down, and Changbin leans to the other side. With a little smirk as though he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, he kisses Chan, just the same.

You’re not quite sure what that’s meant to signal to you, or why they’re choosing to mess with you like this, but seeing them be so casual and tender sends an embarrassing wave of arousal through you. You wonder why you haven’t seen this part of their relationship before, if you’ve just been oblivious of it these months sitting behind them.

Chan, Changbin, and Jisung, local celebrities, inseparable bros…more than friends?

Changbin regards you again, grinning smooth and sneaky. He pauses, and you nod your consent ever so slightly, egging him on. With a little huff of a laugh, a little bit of alright, alright, he finally kisses you, all firm pressure and warm confidence. One of your hands goes up to touch him, hold him, but Jisung grabs your wrist as it rises beside him and holds it back down firmly against the wall. You don’t try it with the other hand. Chan will probably do the same.

He pulls away, still grinning. You’re breathless, but clear-headed.

“There’s that pretty blush,” says Chan, cavalier, “You got all pink-cheeked and flustered like that when ‘Bin walked into you in the Starbucks the other week, you remember that?”

You barely do. It was weeks ago, just a brush against you that sent your books tumbling out of your arms when you realized who it was, sneaking behind you with their hand on the small of your back. It had surprised you, more than overwhelmed you, but you do remember your cheeks burning in embarrassment as you collected your books and notes from the floor.

“We decided we wanted to see it again,” says Jisung.

And suddenly it’s clear. They’ve underestimated you. Cornered you at a party, decided it would be easy to get the shy girl from Physics to fuck around with them a little. Three handsome and popular guys, versus little old you. No contest, right?

Oh, this will be fun.

You glance around at the three of them, taking in their expressions and stances, the way they lean into you or away. It’s clear that Jisung is the least sure of himself, whether for his age or his personality, you don’t know.

It’s easy enough to turn toward Jisung, wrenching your arm around his grasp. You lean in close, until you’re practically nose-to-nose with him. He’s always doe-eyed, but right now you swear you can see your own cocky little grin reflected back in his pupils.

“Only Changbin gets to have fun?” you ask, quietly, relishing the way Jisung twitches toward you.

Changbin scoffs, but Jisung surges forward to kiss you, too, much more eagerly. You barely let him touch your lips before you back off, and he chases you as you lean back, giving away his own desperation.

“Aw,” you coo.

He raises the hand that isn’t still holding fast to your wrist, as if you grab you, cup your face, bring you closer, and you pull back all the way.

“No,” you say sweetly.

Immediately, his hand darts back down to his side. Good. Very good. You press your lips to his again, just barely any pressure at all, and repeat your little game, pulling back and making him chase you.

After a moment, Jisung seems to realize what you’re doing, that you’re not going to let him any closer, and he relaxes again, his expression equal parts confused and intrigued. The other two are watching you with wide eyes. Changbin might as well be drooling.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not that easy to push around,” you say, smiling brightly.

“Figures,” says Chan, amused.

He’s still not touching you, hasn’t touched you at all. He’s just leaning there, a warm presence by your side. For some reason, that interests you even more. Maybe he’s going to be a challenge.

“And anyway, we shouldn’t cause a scene in front of all these people,” you turn slightly, meeting Jisung’s eye, “You gonna let go?”

Surprised, Jisung releases your wrist that he’s been squeezing all the while, and you cross your arms over your chest. You turn to face front again, forcing a little more space between yourself and Changbin.

Chan laughs. “You were wrong, ‘Bin.”

“It’s always the quiet ones,” Changbin mutters. “Find someone sweet and quiet, they wanna do you up in shibari and peg you. Every single time.”

He’s giving you ideas, which is dangerous and delightful. You wonder who’s done that stuff to them before. You kind of want to send that person a congratulations card, give them a high-five.

“Must just be our type,” Jisung muses.

Changbin rolls his eyes. “Just once, can’t we actually be into a sub?”

“Cuz that would work so well for us,” Jisung replies. “Another sub. Perfect.”

“So what are we doing here?” you ask, curiosity truly bursting, “What is this?”

“Whatever you want it to be,” Chan says smoothly.

“You’re not just out here preying on innocent girls, are you?” you ask.

You don’t think they are. Everything you know paints them as harmless, more than a little dorky, good-natured and boisterous. But it’s easy to imagine someone less strong-willed than you getting swept away by the charm pouring off these three like Axe body spray off a middle schooler. They probably don’t even know how this looks, cornering someone and planting one on them.

Chan shakes his head, letting his hand wander over to tug Changbin into his side. “Nah. We were out for a few drinks, catching up with some people. And we saw you. Figured it was worth a shot.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Soft dom me into fucking you?”

Chan’s grin is rakish and ridiculously confident as he strokes Changbin’s shoulder. “It’s worked before.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you say again.

You spare a glance around the room. Nobody has even noticed the four of you doing this very strange dance of power in the corner. The television is still blaring some old comedy, and people still recline on the assorted chairs and sofas. You’re in the clear to keep this going. You smile to yourself.

“I’m not disappointed,” says Jisung. “Are you two disappointed?”

Changbin shakes his head. Chan just keeps looking at you, still grinning bright and confident.

It occurs to you then, what Jisung has just said. About another sub not working out, with the three of them. They must all lean more submissive, then. Even Chan, under this thick layer of brat. You can work with that. He just needs a bit of an attitude adjustment.

So you move toward him, reaching for his face. He leans into the touch, until you move up to grab him by the hair. You remember when he was blonde, earlier in the school year, and an odd bluish grey before that. Somewhere in the middle was a shocking red that only lasted a day, a washable hairspray color. But now, his hair is inky black waves, and you twist your fingers into the curls that flyaway over his forehead and tug gently, tilting his chin up, until he’s backed himself against the wall, palms scrabbling at the wallpaper for purchase.

You just hold him like that, his hair a dark streak in your fist, not even pulling. Just holding him, letting the anticipation work its magic. Before long, he’s squirming ever so slightly in your hold, still meeting your eye stubbornly, pretending that he doesn’t want you to pull his hair, manhandle him more, do something.

“Is this it?” he scoffs.

“I don’t want to come on too strong,” you shrug.

Chan has the boldness to look bored. “You’re not doing anything. Maybe we were right the first time, and you’re just putting us on.”

You tug on his hair at the root, just once, hard enough that he jumps. Your other hand goes to the beltloop on his jeans, tugging his hips toward you just the slightest bit. It’s satisfying to watch him struggle, torn between rocking forward into you and staying put where the hand in his hair holds him up against the wall.

“Hm,” you hum, “Is this too much?”

You’re teasing him, and he knows it, since you’ve barely done anything at all. You can tell that he hates the way you’re patronizing him, from the way his lip curls into a sneer.

“No,” he rasps, “More.”

Changbin makes a small noise from just behind you, a groan or maybe even a moan, but you ignore it in favor of really driving your point home. You tug at the hair in your grip again, harder, and Chan arches that long pretty neck back with the tiniest gasp.

“More,” he says again.

“More and more,” you tease, fake sympathy dripping from your voice.

He nods eagerly, which tugs again at his own hair, making him gasp. You take that opportunity to kiss him, and he responds in kind, keeping his hands neatly by his sides without needing to be told. Where Changbin was measured, trying to impress you, and Jisung was surprised, Chan is eager to please.

You pull back, smacking your lips appreciatively. “Peach flavor, huh? Flavored lip balm. Aren’t you just a sweet peach.”

The way that Chan’s eyes blow wide when you say that is poetry. Oh, yes.

“You like that,” you say, “Don’t you, peach?”

Jisung lets out a desperate little sigh behind you, “Fuck.”

Oh. You’d forgotten that you’re putting on a show not just with Changbin and Jisung’s friend, but their partner. All the more reason to make it a good show.

“Tell me you like it,” you demand.

“I like it,” he says, almost before you’re finished speaking.

“Kiss him again,” comes Changbin’s voice. “Please.”

You oblige, just for a moment.

All at once, you break the kiss and pull away, letting go of his hair and backing all the way out of the little circle they’ve made around you. You take a second to appraise the three of them. Changbin is ruffled, far cry from the guy who’d made to pin you to the wall just a short while ago. Jisung is already hard in his tight jeans. And Chan is just a mess, still pressed to the wall where you’d left him, pink peach-flavored lips swollen from your handiwork.

You turn to walk away.

“Where are you going?” Chan asks, and you’re delighted to hear just a hint of a whine in his tone.

You fix the three of them with your best innocent look.

“You said you wanted more.”

As you turn again and saunter out of the family room(…den…living room?), you can hear the telltale sound of several desperate pairs of feet following you out.

Perfect.

#stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fanfic #3racha #3racha smut #reader insert #bang chan #han jisung #seo changbin #sub!idol #fem dom

[karahalloway]

(Un)Common Attraction: Chapter 17 - Helluva View

Series: TRR (following the events of Book 1, with some changes)

Pairing: Drake Walker x OC (Harper Gale)

Rights belong to Pixelberry, most characters and some dialogue belong to them.

Book Synopsis: Harper Gale is a small-town girl working as a waitress at a seedy New York dive bar. After a chance encounter with nobility sees her jetting halfway around the world to compete for the hand of the Prince of Cordonia, her dream of seeing the world starts to come true sooner than she expected. But as the completion heats up, Harper quickly learns that life at court is a lot more than just pretty dresses and fancy balls, and that the polished aristocratic smiles often hide deceit. Does she have what it takes to rise above the gossip and intrigue of the social season, and beat the nobles at their own games? And, more importantly, does she actually want to become the queen of a small European country? Or will her heart have other ideas?

Masterlist: (Un)Common Attraction

Chapter Summary: Harper’s escape down into the city is going as planned... until Drake drops a surprise or two.

Word Count: 3,700

Rating/Warnings: M (swearing and some heated innuendo)

Chapter theme song:

Bonus Material: Extract from Harper’s Scrapbook - Comic

Please read: Author’s Note

Also available on Wattpad.

Chapter 17 - Helluva View

After a pit stop at a small corner deli to grab some breakfast, we spend the next several hours wandering around the city's old town area. In addition to taking in the historic sights — some of which were over a thousand years old — Drake regales me with some dubious-sounding historical anecdotes, and I take photos on my phone.

But mostly we just talk. We swap stories about our families, growing up, college, likes and dislikes, anything and everything, pretty much. It's unreal how easy I find it to talk to him, away from court. The words just spill out of me without any concern or inhibitions, as if I had known him my whole life, secure in the knowledge that I could trust him with any part of myself and he would not judge or let it go further than the two of us. And unlike most guys I've met, who'd tune out if a girl prattled on for too long, he seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say. He knew when to listen, when to tease, when to empathise.

I had gotten a glimpse of this side of him — the true, unvarnished version of Drake — when we were on the slopes in Lythikos, but today it was on full show. His shoulders were relaxed, his face more animated than usual as he talked, his smile easier.

And as we walk, I realise that I genuinely enjoyed his company — probably the most out of anyone at court — and, for the first time since I had set foot in this country, I was feeling truly happy and relaxed.

As Drake had promised, our simple disguises work surprisingly well, and we are left to our own devices by the locals. Though walking past the newsstands, it felt very strange to find my face splashed on no less than three different local magazines and newspapers with speculations about whether I was the Prince's favourite.

Having seen all that is to see, we then make our way to the beachfront promenade where I fill myself to the brim with most exquisite seafood risotto that had ever graced a plate, enjoying the warm sea breeze from the outdoor patio as we continue to chat idly about this and that.

"I shouldn't have ordered a second helping," I groan, struggling to keep up with Drake's long strides in my overstuffed state as he leads me towards the shopping street after lunch.

"It was great, wasn't it?" he agrees with a grin.

"I can understand why you turn your nose up at all the fancy grub," I say. "There are probably hundreds of little cafes and restaurants like that all over the city, offering mouth-watering food that gives even the Palace chefs a run for their money. Plus, you're helping support a local business and therefore the wider economy."

"True. But, unless you take the time and effort to go down into the city and spend time with normal folk, your world quickly becomes warped by the aristo bubble."

"Yeah, Christian told me that he would love to spend more time amongst the people, but he hardly ever has a chance, partially because of his busy schedule, and partially because all the hoo-ha his presence would cause."

"When we were younger, we would sneak down into the city quite often, using our pocket money to buy ice cream and pizza," reminisces Drake. "But as Chris got older, and especially after Leo's abdication, he had less and less free time to just hang out and enjoy himself. I honestly do not envy him. Had I been in his shoes, I would've told all his aides and courtiers to go fuck themselves long ago. But Chris' too well mannered for that."

"He'll make a good king, I think," I muse. "He can be stern and authoritative when he needs to be, but he also has a softer side that lets him connect meaningfully with people."

"Maybe. But the weight of the crown can change people... make them colder, more distant."

"Yeah..." I agree, thinking back to The Crown. "Hopefully Christian won't let himself become just another man in a high castle and even when he's king, he can make a conscious effort to mingle with his subjects."

"We'll just have to see, won't we?" he replies non-committedly. "Well, here we are. All the shops a gal could wish for."

Looking around, I can see that we have arrived at the start of a wide, pedestrianised street lined with fashionable-looking independent boutiques, as well as a few global brands that I recognised like Pierre Cardin and Gucci. My inner shopaholic squeals in delight, even though I know that my Visa was going to cry.

"So, this is where we part ways?"

"Yup," nods Drake. "We can meet in front of the Cordonian National Bank at the end of the street. Two hours enough for you to get what you need?"

"I think so."

"Right. See you then."

* * *

An hour and forty-five minutes later, I'm sitting on the steps of the bank, sunglasses pushed up onto my cap, sipping a Frappuccino while enjoying the afternoon sunshine, surrounded by brightly coloured bags.

My shopping spree had gone better than expected. For a steal, I had managed to pick up a couple of sun dresses, a cute aquamarine-coloured romper, a tropical-print string bikini, and and some flip-flops. In addition, I had also put together a killer outfit for the Regatta, so I was feeling very pleased with my haul.

"I see you've been successful," observes Drake, emerging from the crowd to flop down on the steps next to me.

"Yup," I grin, taking a sip of my drink.

"And even had time for a coffee break."

"Don't worry, I got one for you too," I say, reaching down next to me to hand over the large Americano I had bought him.

"Thanks, Gale. Or should I say, Holly?" he asks, pushing his sunglasses up to read the name written on the side of the cup.

"I thought it would be better to go with a pseudonym," I shrug. "Did I pick well?"

"Why? You plannin’ on buying me more drinks in the near future?"

"If the opportunity arises, why not?" I say honestly. "We live in the 21st century after all... A girl can buy a guy a drink if she wants to."

Drake studies me for a long moment over the rim of his cup before giving me the smallest of nods.

"Ha!" I exclaim, feeling extremely pleased that I had guessed his coffee of choice correctly. "Nailed it!"

"Okay, okay... no need to get carried away. It's just coffee, after all."

"Actually, it's a bit more than that," I admit. "It's my humble present to you... to say thanks for today. You not only helped me get out of the Palace, but you also opened my eyes to all the great things that this city has to offer. I really appreciate it."

"Don't mention it," he demures. "I got to take the old bike for a spin, enjoy some good food and even the company's been half decent. Plus, I got a free coffee."

"So, is that what I am to you?" I ask dryly. "Half decent?"

"You know what I mean..."

"Oh, is this your roundabout way of saying that we're friends now?"

"If that's what floats your boat."

I stare at him in disbelief. "Are you seriously telling me right now that you're one of those people who turn to goo when they get licked in the face by a dog, but can't bring themselves to express any kind of heartfelt emotion to another person for fear that they might spontaneously combust?"

"There's nothing wrong with being licked in the face by a dog."

"That's not what I'm saying, and you know it!”

"Why is it so important to you, huh?" he asks in exasperation. "Can't we just enjoy the moment without psychoanalysing the crap out of it?"

"Why do I even try...?" I groan, getting up to toss my empty cup into a nearby trash can.

Turning around, I nearly collide into Drake's chest. I glare up at him accusingly.

"Look, Gale," he says, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't mean to get your back up. It's just... I'm not one of those guys who wears their heart on their sleeve."

"That's the understatement of the century..." I grumble.

"But, if I'm honest with myself, you're the only person in the entire Palace apart from Chris that I actually enjoy spending time with. Instead of having to constantly be on my guard, dodging haughty looks and snide remarks, I can actually relax and have a normal conversation with you. You're like a breath of fresh air, girl."

"Oh," I say, completely bowled over by his words.

He gives me a wry look. "I pour my heart out and that's all I get? A single syllable?"

I blush involuntarily. Well, if we're being honest...

"I kind of feel the same way about you," I admit. "I thought you were exaggerating when you told me that I needed to watch my back because everyone was only looking out for themselves. But the past week has made me realise that apart from maybe Hana, you have been the only person who has been consistently honest with me without expecting anything in return. So...I'm sorry for misjudging you. And I should've listened to you from the start."

Glancing up, I can see that it is now Drake who is staring at me with a thunderstruck expression on his face.

I smile cheekily up at him. "I pour my heart out and that's all I get? Stunned silence?"

"I think that's enough Dr Phil for one day..." he murmurs, sidestepping my remark. "And we should start heading back."

"But we still have the bank and the phone store to do."

"I took the liberty of sorting that for you."

"You wha—?"

"Hope you like red," he continues, pulling the latest iPhone out of his pocket, complete with matching protector case. "It was the only colour they had."

My mouth drops to the floor. "Drake... That's over a thousand dollars worth of phone! I-I can't accept this..."

"Actually, it came free with the monthly plan," he replies. "I added you to my contract, so you have unlimited minutes, texts and over a gig of mobile internet per month. This way, instead of cheaping out on some unreliable pay-as-you-go option, you have a proper phone that you can use while you're here, which will also work abroad when you head off on your travels. It's all ready to go... You just need to set up the face recognition and link all your accounts."

"I-I don't know what to say..." I breathe, my head reeling.

"I believe a 'thank you' is customary?"

"This is way beyond a simple thank you... I'll pay you back, I promise!"

"Don't even think about it," he warns. "It's something you needed, so I got it for you. Now can you just take it? I'm starting to feel like an idiot standing here like this."

I reach hesitantly for the phone, not wanting to believe that this was for real. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he acknowledges with a nod. "And, here's about five-hundred dollars' worth of cash. In case you need to catch a cab, or anything."

"You can't be serious...!" I exclaim. "Drake, you just gave me a brand-new phone! I can't take money from you as well!"

"Gale," says Drake softly, stepping closer to me and pressing the wad of notes into my hand. "It's fine. Honestly. I'd feel much better knowing that you had a decent amount of cash in your pocket, should you ever need it."

"But I have money," I protest, trying — and failing —to shove the notes back into his hand.

"Which you should save for your travels," he replies, closing my fingers gently, but meaningfully around the notes.

"But what about you? Don't you need it?"

He smiles wryly. "I may not be rolling in cash, but trust me, I'm good. I'm not going to miss five-hundred dollars. Especially when it's for your benefit."

"Drake... I..."

"How 'bout this?" he offers. "The next time we find ourselves away from the Palace, you can buy me a drink."

"This is worth more than one drink..."

"Okay, you can buy me two."

"You're impossible..."

"So, you keep telling me," he murmurs, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. After a moment, he adds, "I've saved my number into your phone. If you need to get hold of me for any reason, just call."

I nod, not trusting myself to speak for fear that I'll burst into tears again. No one has ever done anything like this for me before, and I find myself feeling an overwhelming sense of trust and gratitude for Drake.

He had been under no obligations to help me in any way, yet here he was, having just dropped about two grand on me without a second's thought, while expecting nothing in return. Christian had not been kidding when he had told me that underneath his prickly exterior, the guy had a heart of solid gold.

Not knowing how else to express my appreciation, I reach up and kiss him on his slightly scratchy cheek, his spicy aftershave enveloping my senses.

I hear him suck in a surprised breath. But instead of pulling away, his arm snakes around my waist, holding me steady against him. I feel the warmth of his body radiating through his shirt, the steady rise and fall of his chest against mine as we stand entwined on the steps.

In contrast to my intimate moment with Christian, where I had been a bundle of nervous energy, I feel myself relaxing into Drake's embrace, secure in the knowledge that there were no expectations between us, the world around me forgotten.

"Harper..."

Glancing up, my eyes still shiny with emotion, I find him gazing down at me with an unguarded look. My breath catches in my throat as I lose myself momentarily in the depths of his mocha eyes, our faces almost touching.

"We... we should get going," he says in a gruff voice, dropping his gaze.

"There's no rush," I tell him softly, finding that I was enjoying being held by him. "I left a note on my door telling the Beaumonts that I wasn't feeling well and that I'll catch up with them in the morning."

"Even so," he insists, unwrapping his arm from my waist. Despite the warm sunshine, I feel a shiver run over my skin as he withdraws from me. "We've been gone since the early morning. The last thing we need is for the Guard to come hunting for us."

"Alright..." I agree with a sigh, pulling reluctantly away from him.

I had genuinely enjoyed my time out on the town with Drake and I didn't really want to go back to the Palace. But, as nice as it had been to get away from the formality of the court, the fact remained that I was here as a suitor, and getting caught out and about with Drake would raise all sorts of awkward questions. Plus, he seemed impatient to get going, so pocketing the cash and pulling my sunglasses back down, I quickly gather my bags and hurry after Drake as he leads us back to the square where he had parked the bike (which I am actually surprised to see is still standing exactly as we had left it).

Drake pulls our leather jackets out of the saddlebags while I condense my makeshift disguise and purchases into a couple of bags, discarding the others in a nearby trash can, before stuffing the clothes into the now vacant saddlebags.

"Here," he says, holding my jacket up so I could shrug into it.

I turn around, and he pulls the leather up onto my shoulders. I am about to reach for the zip when I feel myself being spun gently around.

"These can be a bit tricky," he says softly, making quick work of the zipper.

"Thanks," I whisper, acutely aware of how close together we are standing again.

"You're welcome," he replies, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "Don't forget your helmet."

While I don the rest of my gear, Drake quickly slips on his own jacket and gloves and mounting the bike, revs it to life. I clamber up onto the rear seat, my stomach a knot of nerves at the thought of having to ride this deathtrap again.

"Chillax, Gale," chides Drake, pulling on his own helmet. "I'll take it slow, I promise."

"Really?" I ask hopefully, though at the same time wary of getting my hopes up in case he's trying to lull me into a false sense of security.

Having grown up with three older brothers, I have had to develop a healthy sense of suspicion when it came to statements that sounded too good to be true.

"Scout's honour," he confirms.

"Okay, but if you— ARGH!"

I shriek and throw my arms around him in a desperate attempt to hang on as he revs the bike and shoots off into the late afternoon traffic, leaving a chorus of angry honks in our wake.

"You fucking bastard!" I cry. "I'm never riding this thing with you again!"

"Never say never, Gale," grins Drake as he maneuvers the bike deftly through the narrow streets of the city, dodging traffic as if he were engaged in a high-stakes game of cat and mouse.

I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to continue watching his death-defying antics while silently praying to every deity that I can think of to help us make it back to the Palace alive and in one piece.

After what seems like an age, I feel the sharp movements of the bike die away and I gingerly open my eyes.

"Wow..." I gasp.

Spread out to my right is the Mediterranean, twinkling like a carpet of crushed jewels in the late afternoon sun. The coastline of the kingdom curves off into the distance, providing a perfect view of the colourful stone houses perched on the cliffs overlooking the bay.

"Helluva view, isn't it?" asks Drake as he drops the bike down a few gears so we can take in the picture-perfect vista.

"It's breathtaking..."

"I told you I'd take it slow... I just didn't say when."

"Oh, screw you and your technicalities!" I cry, punching him in the ribs.

"My, my, Gale..." drawls Drake, barely even flinching. "First fucking, and now screwing? Is there something you're try’na tell me?"

"Who's psychoanalysing the crap out of everything now?" I retort, fighting a grin.

Even though Christian kept remarking on my strange sense of humour, it was becoming apparent that it was something that Drake and I had in common. And while I would die before admitting it to him, I actually enjoyed our tit-for-tat sparring matches.

"You sayin' you can dish it, but you can't take it, girl?"

I let out an exasperated groan. "Just shut up and drive..."

"Yes, ma'am," says Drake with a wry chuckle.

As he revs the engine, shifting the engine back into a higher gear, I tighten my hold on him in anticipation of the nail-biting acceleration. But I am surprised to find that instead of the breakneck speed that he had opted for previously, he actually settles for a much more sedate pace, giving me time to enjoy the picturesque scenery for a bit longer before we round a bend, and it disappears from view behind the cliffs.

As we cruise along, winding our way up the same narrow service road that we had come down on in the morning, I find myself relaxing into the experience. I had to admit that there was a real rush that came from having 100 horsepower's worth of barely-tamed torque sat between your legs, and the exposure to the elements provided a truly visceral experience that was probably only matched by a few top-of-the-line supercars. And knowing what I did about Drake, I realise that this bike really captured the essence of who he was – power and reliability cloaked in an understated exterior that promised you a no-holds-barred ride if you were willing to take a chance on it.

I feel the bike slow, and turning my head, I see that we are in the process of pulling up to the back of the Palace, the last few miles of the ride having flashed by in a blur. As I slide off the bike, I feel a twinge of disappointment at the fact that my day out was coming to an end.

While Drake turns off the engine and stows the bike, I shrug out of my gear, handing it to him before extracting my purchases from the saddlebags. We make our way back to the main part of the Palace the same way we had come in companionable silence, lost in our private thoughts.

"Well, this is me," I remark as we arrive at my bedroom door. Luckily, the coast is clear. "Oh, and before I forget, these are yours," I add, extracting the cap and sunglasses that he had loaned me from my bag.

"Keep 'em," he replies. "They look better on you anyway."

I blush involuntarily. "If you insist..."

"I do," he says. Brushing his fingers against the back of my hand, he murmurs, "I had fun today."

"Me too," I reply sincerely. "Thanks for being my partner in crime."

"Anytime, Gale," he smiles. "You have my number now. So, the next time you feel like going on a walkabout, just let me know. I'm always up for an adventure."

"Sounds good," I say, returning his smile. "So... Catch you later, then, I guess?"

"You bet."

Without warning, he leans in close to drop a small kiss on my cheek, his stubble tickling my skin, before turning to walk down to his room as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

I stare at his retreating back mutely, my skin on fire from where his lips had brushed against my cheek.

He turns back once to give me an impenetrable look before disappearing into his room.

Shaking myself out of my reverie, I let myself into my own room, grinning like a teenager.

The story continues in Chapter 18 - Shoot to Thrill

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#uncommon attraction #harper gale #drake walker #drake x mc #trr fanfiction #the royal romance #Spotify

[fratboykate]

ok so basically i need advice. my girlfriend (who i have been dating for 6 years i promise this is relevant) just turned 26, i’m 32. and at the very end of 2020/start 2021 she started to gain a lot of success. like ungodly amounts of success. pre pandemic she worked for the UN (she still does but is transitioning out) but in 2020 she went back to school to get a degree (she’s in 2nd year now) she started 2 companies which are both successful, one only moderately but the other one absolutely took off in august last year and became one of the top companies in our country as well as ranking on several lists for humane working conditions. she taught herself to code, built an app which made the apple editors list all in less than 5 months, she speaks so many languages it’s insane. she signed a book deal. she started 2 charities, one that pairs with universities and colleges in our local area to retrain houseless people and partners with local businesses to give them guaranteed 6-8 month job contracts as well as using the money from her app to buy a building and house as many of them as possible. it works. the second is a basically single handedly solving the food scarcity problem in our area and surrounding counties. last week i found out she started teaching herself bengali so she’d be able to talk to my parents. she went on an insane fitness journey, lost weight and got jacked and just last month got selected for the national team for a sport she had never even played before january but took up during lockdown, they’re pretty sure she’ll make the olympic team next year. and she still is the most amazing girlfriend, she’s never dropped the ball on our relationship even once, even though i have no idea how she finds enough hours in the day for everything. and i find myself being unable to be happy for her because i’m jealous of her success. the girl goes to class, goes to work and literally is changing the world for thousands of people every single day and i’m just there like “today at work i managed to not cry also i took a shower” and she is genuinely happy for me every time. she kisses me, makes me dinner and listens to me eagerly as i tell her about the job i have that i hate and is genuinely happy that i took a shower or that i took a nice walk like she didn’t just spend 13 hours literally changing the world. when people ask me if i’m proud of her i have to just awkwardly laugh because i think i’m too jealous to be proud. she asked me to move in with her last month (we basically live together anyway) but i can’t bring myself to do it bc i don’t want to be reminded of the success i haven’t achieved (she’s not in any way flashy, the opposite actually she gives away most of her wealth and actually downgraded flats after success, i just find myself thinking about it more and more). am i a terrible person?

I'm going to say something that may sound absurdly simple given the length of your message and you incredibly detailed you were (which btw thank you I appreciate you being so open with me) but I promise I'm not being facetious. This is genuinely the single best piece of advice I can give you: I think you need therapy. Potentially couple's therapy but start with solo therapy and go from there. I'm no expert but it seems to me like you're severely depressed and that's only something a professional can help you navigate. There might be some other issues feeding the jealousy but it might also just be that your depression has you stuck and once you solve that problem you can gain momentum in your own life in a way that would leave no room for jealousy of her success. So yeah, that's my honest advice.

Another thing I would say is, she sounds like an amazing girlfriend so maybe a conversation with her explaining things the way you explained them to me wouldn't hurt. Open communication is better than letting things fester. She asked you to move in with her. She clearly sees a future with you so be honest with her about where your head is at. If therapy isn't something you could afford on your own then maybe opening up to her would mean she could help in some way given her success. It would ultimately benefit you both in the long run. Idk. I just think therapy is at the very center of your solution. Everything else will stem from there.

#HOPE THAT HELPSSSSSSS #rants #anonymous #answers

[myluciferiscody]

Summer of ‘84

Xavier Plympton x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,426

Warnings: smut, language, sex in a public place, au!, all characters are 18+, i’m sorry if this is bad lmao

**using my current tag-list so feel free to ignore**

It was June of 1984 when you and your close friends returned to your jobs at the local drive-in theatre the last Summer before you started college.

It was your second year working here, and you were sad that it would be the last. It was an easy job. You'd work nights only five days a week. It was nice being able to make your own money and have fun with your friends while doing it. 

You were working the concession stand tonight with Xavier Plympton. You had been friends with him the longest out of the bunch. He was one of the best co-workers you could ever ask for. Despite his constant complaining about dealing with customers, he was always armed with perfect comebacks when you were stuck dealing with a Karen. Plus, he did work hard, which was a relief. Some of the other teenagers you worked with were only there for the paycheck, clearly. 

You were particularly excited because you were able to see the screen playing Gremlins and Ghostbusters. You rarely got to enjoy the movies. You were either working the ticket booth or continuously walking around, making sure nobody tried to sneak under the rotting wooden gates surrounding the lot. 

It was just after 9:30 when Gremlins started, and you and Xavier had just finished up the line.

"Let's hope the crowd stays away so we can clean up." he sighed, stretching his arms above his head. The ugly yellow shirts you had to wear rode up a little, and you caught yourself staring before a pair of hands covered your eyes.

"Gah!" you said, and you heard the loud laugh of Montana Duke behind you. 

"Sheesh, you're such a scaredy-cat!"

"I was distracted!" you said, your cheeks burning as you started to wipe down the counter, which was covered in popcorn kernels. "Shouldn't you be with Brooke right now?"

Montana slid over the countertops, going to the pop machine where she started filling up two cups. "We're parched, it's just now starting to cool down a bit. Larry is making us patrol for the next forty-five minutes before the others take over."

You nodded, scrubbing a particularly stubborn spot of butter that was probably from the night before. 

Xavier had laughed at what Montana said, and you immediately knew why. They had been caught in quite the compromising position the first night the theatre was opened this season. You were surprised they hadn't been fired, and Brooke had given two shifts away after the fact to avoid being questioned about it. 

"He's a fucking pervert anyway," Montana said, putting lids on both cups. "I gotta go. Be good!" she called sweetly before she bounced out of the rickety building. 

"I wish these fucking fans would work!" Xavier grumbled, fumbling with the switch of the nearest overhead fan. It made a creaking noise, the metal blades moving an inch before it stopped. 

"They're ancient," you laughed, finally getting the spot cleaned. "Candace told me they've been here since this place opened."

"These are like forty years old then, how fucking convenient," he grumbled, before giving up. "You'd think they could afford to replace them."

"Watch your language," you scolded. "We don't need another complaint."

Xavier smirked at you, starting to restock the popcorn buckets. "y/n, you should really stop being so uptight, babe." he teased you.

"I am not uptight!" you gasped, your mouth falling open as you dropped the rag into the sanitizer bucket. 

"Exactly what someone uptight would say!" he retorted, laughing at you, his hands methodically stacking the buckets handful by handful. 

"You won't think it's amusing when you're fired, you ass!" you said, causing Xavier to throw his head back and laugh rambunctiously. 

"That's the least of my worries, babe," he grinned at you, and you felt your heart swell. "What would you do without me?" he said.

"I'd probably actually get some work done..." you mumbled, starting to refill the popcorn machine with fresh kernels. "But I'd have to deal with the bitchy Karens all on my own."

"Watch your language!" Xavier mocked you, balling up the plastic and tossing it in the nearest trash-can. "Hey y/n- oh, someone is coming."

You told Xavier you would take care of the customer as he started restocking the cups, watching as you showed the young boy all of the ice creams you had. He was cute, probably no older than eleven with thick-framed glasses and a toothy smile. 

"Thank you, Miss," he said, before hurrying out.

"I think he liked you," Xavier said as you closed the register. "That's cute."

You rolled your eyes, seeing Larry sitting in the projection room, already asleep. "Shut up, he's young."

The next half-an-hour you only helped two other customers. Many people came to use the bathrooms, but other than that, you were alone with Xavier. You had cleaned up everything there was to clean, and you decided to dig out the book you brought to pass the time. 

Xavier watched the screen through the large window next to the entrance, the portable stereo tuned into the theatre's station. He was very amused by Gizmo, even gushing at the little creature.

"That's cute," you mumbled to yourself, chewing on your lip to keep from giggling.

"I heard that," he said crossly, his eyes on you now.

"I didn't say anything," you shrugged, bookmarking your page. "I'm hungry, I want a pretzel."

"Lucky for you, I popped one in for you," Xavier said, gesturing towards the pretzel heater right next to him. "It should be done now."

"Thank you, Xavier!" you said happily, coming over and taking it out. Xavier watched you, and he reached next to him for a bucket of popcorn he had gotten for himself. He put a handful in his mouth as you started pouring nacho cheese into a plastic container. 

"Hey, y/n?" he asked again, looking at you.

"Yes?" you asked, watching the hot cheese, feeling your stomach growl with hunger.

"Do you remember my friend Chet? He graduated last year?"

You nodded, moving to sit next to him on the counter. "The cute dark-haired kid who is really athletic?" 

"That's him," Xavier said, stuffing more popcorn into his mouth. "I ran into him the other day, and I told him I was working here again. He said he worked here for a season before we met."

You encouraged him to keep going, wondering where this was going. You knew Chet Clancy, mainly because he was a popular jock who dated multiple girls throughout the years. You have only spoken a few words with him in your entire life, but he was sweet enough. 

"Uhm..." he said, looking a little nervous now. You thought it was odd, he rarely became this way around you. "He asked about you."

You perked up, tearing your pretzel in half as you watched him see if he were joking. He wasn't, looking you dead in the eyes, and you could see he was honest.

"He asked about me?" you asked, shocked.

"Yeah, he kind of... Hinted, that he was interested in you."

You found yourself smiling. "Really? I never really talked to him..."

Xavier nodded, "I know. I was a little shocked myself."

You ate some of your food, now thinking about dating Chet Clancy. You never would have imagined it, and not even because you rarely knew him. He just seemed so out of reach. You weren't the "normal" crowd he hung out with.

"Wow... That's insane," you said simply.

"Yeah... But I kind of choked up and said we were dating."

You spit out your tiny bite of food, covering your mouth as Xavier looked at you with wide eyes. "WE'RE NOT DATING!"

"Shh!" Xavier said, almost dropping his popcorn in an attempt to cover your mouth. "I know, y/n, I don't even know what happened," he growled, tossing the bucket aside. "I panicked."

"Why would you panic?" you asked, wrinkling your nose as you picked up your un-chewed food with a napkin and tossed it in the bin. "We're friends."

"I got... Jealous," he replied lamely.

You glanced up at him, and he was looking at his lap, his face wrinkled in embarrassment. You were thrown for a loop. As long as you had known each other, not once did there seem to be any romantic inclination. Of course, you've crushed on him a bit, I mean, who wouldn't? He was funny, charismatic, gorgeous, and saw something in you that he wanted to be your friend.

"Why?" was all you managed, your voice hushed and confused.

"It made me realize that I like you. And we're not little kids anymore. If I didn't tell you how I felt, then I might lose the opportunity to tell you." he said, before laughing dryly, "I guess it took another guy being interested in you for me to wise up and stop being an idiot."

You started to grin at him, and Xavier looked relieved. "Does this mean you're not mad?" 

"I'm not mad," you assured him, putting your food to the side. "I'm just surprised. I never would have thought..."

"Babe, I'm clearly head over heels for you, I tease you relentlessly because I like to make you laugh. And I like when you get snappy with me." he grinned at you, his eyes sparkling as you heard a group of teenagers pile into the bathroom, giggling. 

You scooted closer to Xavier, and you could smell his body wash. "I just thought it meant you liked to pick on me." 

He threw his arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his side. "I do, with love."

After that, you had spent the rest of Gremlins talking, sitting close to each other, and giggling madly. You had to go back to work once intermission started, and you felt your heart-beating wildly every time you heard Xavier's voice. You listened as girls giggled and whispered about him, cashing them out with a broad smile. At one point, you heard him go, "Sorry, ladies, I'm taken."

When the last movie started, you turned off all the machines, cleaning everything down quickly. The one thing you liked about this theatre is that intermission was the final call. You'd have time to clean up and be on your way home before the second movie was even half-way through.

You had set aside some food for the others while you finished up. Brooke Thompson and Montana came in, taking some leftovers and asking if you wanted to watch Ghostbusters. 

"We'll be out in a bit," Xavier said, gesturing to the broom he was holding. "Whoever worked in here last time did a shit job."

"Cool, we'll be in my car!" Montana said, before scurrying out with Brooke, their arms full of popcorn, soda, and nachos.

"I'm so ready to skip this joint!" Xavier said after he finished swimming, and you switched off the first set of lights. 

"Me too. Are there any nachos left?" you asked, locking up the safe.

"Just enough for the both of us," he replied. You stood up, walking over to him, and you ended up tripping over your shoes, colliding with his chest.

"Oh shit, you alright?" he asked, grabbing you tightly.

"I'm fine!" you laughed, looking up at his figure towering over you. "I think I tripped over the crack in the floor..."

Xavier stared down at you, and you felt his hand come up and brush against your cheek. You felt your skin tingle underneath his touch. "We're gonna get caught."

"I don't care," Xavier whispered before he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.

You held your breath as you melted into his touch. You've been in a few relationships before in your time, but nothing ever compared to what you were currently feeling. Xavier held your head in his hands, your kiss becoming more heated until you felt him pulling you towards the back, where the storage was kept.

"We're gonna get-."

Xavier cupped a hand over your mouth, pulling you into the closet before shutting the door. There was a single light hanging above you that he flicked on, and you could barely see the movie screen from the rectangular window sitting high above your heads.

"Trust me, Babe. If you're quiet, we'll be fine."

You nodded, holding onto him as Xavier pushed an empty box onto the floor, lifting you up and setting you on top of a sturdy table. There wasn't a whole lot of room. He reached over to lock the door.

"What are you doing?" You asked, kicking off your shoes. You were wearing denim shorts, and the air around you was much colder than you expected. You got goosebumps as Xavier played with the button of your shorts.

"Could I take these off?" He asked.

You nodded shyly, biting your lip as he slowly unbuttoned them, the only sound being your shared breathing and the zipper being lowered down.

"Have you done this before, y/n?" He asked, his hands gripping the waistband of your shorts.

"I've done a few things..." you said, your cheeks becoming hot.

"I'll be gentle, I promise." He said, before starting to tug your undergarments off. You lifted your hips, and he quickly let them drop to the floor. Outside you could hear the audience collectively laughing at something.

Xavier shed out of his shirt, throwing it on the nearest shelf. He wasn't overly muscular but was nicely toned. You've seen him shirtless many times over the years, but this time was different. He was beautiful.

"Are you enjoying the view?" He asked arrogantly, flashing you a smile as you instinctively crossed your legs. "Ah, spread them for me, babe." He kindly scolded.

"Of course, I am!" You respond, "You're hot, and you know it, babe."

"Cute," he winked at you, before looping his arms underneath your legs. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled you closer, spreading your legs out for him. You could feel how wet you were against the crisp air, and you wanted to die from embarrassment at how easily you became aroused.

"Remember to stay quiet." He said, grinning at you mischievously. "You don't want to get caught."

You squeezed your eyes shut at his arrogance. "Fuck you."

The words had barely left your mouth when you felt his tongue lick a quick swipe along your thigh. You shuddered at the feeling; your stomach trembling as Xavier purposely teased you. You weren't lying when you said you have a little experience. But, you never received oral before. You gave it once, and that was it.

You let out a quiet gasp as he finally licked along your folds, your hands itching to grab onto his hair already. You refrained, lifting them above your head to keep from messing anything up.

Xavier was skilled as he ran his tongue gingerly along your folds, before pushing his tongue inside. The feeling caused hundreds of butterflies to fly over your stomach. Your thighs clenched as he adjusted his hold on you, kneeling down to push his head deeper between your legs.

"Oh, fuck!" You said a little too loudly before you felt his hand covering your mouth. You mewled and sighed against him as Xavier slowly ate you out. You always heard from Montana that it was one of the best feelings in the world, but you never imagined it being quite like this.

Nor did you ever expect to be here with Xavier, but life was crazy.

You grabbed onto Xavier's arm as he started sucking on your clit. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he teased your entrance with a single finger, barely testing the waters.

You were lost in the feeling when suddenly the door handle rattled. You jumped out of your skin, nearly trapping Xavier between your thighs when you heard the security guards' high-pitched voice. "Fuck! Larry must have locked it before he left."

Xavier freed himself, prepared to cover you with his body when the voice of Mason, a co-worker say, "It's fine, we'll just have to look in there tomorrow. I can't find the key anywhere."

You heard their footsteps fade away, and you and Xavier both glanced at each other, before giggling madly.

"I'm sorry, y/n," he whispered in your ear.

"It's not your fault?" You said, running your hand along his face now.

"I'm gonna go back down here now," he said, kissing your hand before slinking down your body again. You let him go, now covering your own mouth as he grabbed your legs, his mouth instantly closing over your clit.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged, his fingers once again teasing your entrance. "I'm gonna make you cum in my mouth."

Xavier continued until you were shaking so severely that he had to hold you down by the hips, almost forcing you to keep your legs open. Xavier pumped a finger inside of you, his thumb meeting your clit while his tongue teased it simultaneously.

You came in minutes, sighing loudly against your hand as Xavier cleaned you up, before placing kisses along your thighs. You breathed heavily as you sat up, quickly taking off your shirt, revealing your bra.

"Fuck, y/n," he said, allowing you to unbutton his pants, your hands fumbling to get them off as soon as possible. "You're hot."

"And horny, so please take off your pants." You begged, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. When you were completely naked, you stared at Xavier's dick, wondering how in the hell it was supposed to fit.

"Don't look so scared, babe," Xavier said, cupping your cheeks in his hands. "Have you?..."

You shook your head, "I never got this far."

Xavier nuzzled your neck, and you wrapped your legs around him as he kissed along your skin, trailing along your collarbone before placing kisses on your jawline.

"Do you have a condom?" You asked, suddenly having an epiphany on the importance of safe sex.

"There's a box behind the pack of lightbulbs," he said, and you pulled back to look at him. "Chet told me about them, I swear."

Xavier wasted no time grabbing a condom from said hiding place, and you watched as he slid it on with ease. You wrapped a leg around his hips again, and he hugged you while he pressed kisses to your face.

"Let me know if I'm hurting you, baby girl," he whispered, and you nodded, holding him tightly.

You focused on the sound of more laughter from the audience, keeping your breathing under control as Xavier slowly pushed inside of you. He felt you tense up, holding you tightly and not moving until you encouraged him to do so.

After a few moments, you told him to move, figuring it would worsen before it got better. Xavier nodded, still holding you tight as he rocked his hips into yours, both of you panting as you grew more comfortable having his dick inside of you.

When you felt a lot better, you laid flat against the table, keeping a leg wrapped around him while he increased his pace. Xavier's face was screwed up as the pleasure coursed throughout your body. His large hand reached forward, grabbing at your breasts while you attempted to keep your moans at bay.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," you said, trying to keep your leg from slipping off his hip.

"You're so fucking hot, babe," he said, leaning over you until you were almost nose to nose. "I want you to come for me, y/n,"

You shook your head, not wanting this to stop.

Xavier hid his laugh, increasing his face slightly. "You're going to fucking come for me, y/n."

"Make. Me." You said through clenched teeth.

Xavier laughed now, adjusting your free leg enough to easily slip his hand over your clit. He rubbed you out with his thumb, focusing on you, wanting you to come before he did.

"That's it," Xavier cooed as you finally clinched around him, crying out behind your hand as he slowed down, watching as you coated his length. "Fuck..."

You dug your heel into his skin as Xavier came, his hips stilling as he kneeled over you, kissing you deeply. You were breathless as he kissed you fiercely, hardly allowing you a break until he climbed off you.

You sat up, feeling light. "That was amazing."

Xavier grinned at you, pulling on his boxers after taking off the condom. "It's all you babe, not me."

taglist: 

@the-walking-daryl @trichy-knitts @shydragonrider @thefandomzoneisdangerous @lemonwhiskers @jetblackpayne @langdonsvcrd @okoktrinity22 @uwonman @stefanmikaleson1864 @sevenwonderwitch @rubbrninja @iamnotjesha @leatherduncan @imshakingandcryingrn @bratzblitz @goblackcat69 @brookethompsonownsme @bookoffracturedescapes @zodiyack​ @bitchchatter @shydragonrider​ @guiltyfiend @psychobitchtess  @aangrana  @thexmancometh @wtfcas @pleasforhelp​ @capshoney @agentnightshade44​ @frenchlangdon @morganelizabeth-99 @fathoe69333​

#xavier plympton x reader #xavier plympton imagine #xavier plympton smut #ahs imagine #ahs 1984 #ahs smut #michael langdon x reader #brooke thompson #montana duke

[everlarkficexchange]

Prompt #61

Written by @endlessnightlock

Based on Prompt #61 submitted by @567inpanem

Peeta knew better but he did stupid things when he got drunk. Now he’s caged at the animal shelter in his wolf form. And, omg, Katniss Everdeen let her little sister drag her in to see the dogs? He knows he shouldn’t, but teen hormones. He just wants to lick her hand. Get a tummy rub. Hump her leg. Sleep on her bed. Omg they take him home!!! He needs to let his dad know where he is. Omg. He needs to figure out his bakery shift. “God don’t let Katniss catch me licking my balls.”

AN: This is the first chapter of a multi-chapter fic that keeps spiraling farther out of control inside my head :), so this is the first part while I figure out how far this story is going.

This chapter is rated T for some swearing, not sure where the rating will go after this chapter.

Thanks to @javistg and @xerxia31 for running the exchange again, you ladies are phenomenal!

“What’s the matter pup?” old Mags, the half-blind dog warden, crooned to Peeta as she offered her hand for him to sniff through the bars of the cage. 

  He whimpered in response, wishing his head would quit throbbing.

  Mags was a gentle soul, who years ago spearheaded the effort to open a no-kill shelter in Panem, long before the idea took off in the mainstream. 

  “You’re such a pretty boy, you know that? Now I wonder,” she studied Peeta intently, her cloudy eyes focusing on him as best they could, “are you a husky or maybe some kind of sled dog?”

  Only our half-blind dog-catcher wouldn’t recognize a wolf, Peeta thought, giving her age-spotted hands a nudge and sniff. I guess I should be thankful she hasn’t had cataract surgery yet. 

  He pulled his head back quickly from her friendly overture, his over-heightened canine senses going bonkers over what he’d found; Mags smelled like bacon grease this morning. Typically he didn’t mind that scent- who didn’t like bacon?- but this morning it made his stomach churn. That was entirely his fault though, and the blame could be laid on last night’s drunken rampage. The one that had landed him in here. He’d behaved like such an idiot…

  Shape-shifting werewolves, or wolves as they were known to their human counterparts, had inhabited the woods surrounding Panem for hundreds of years and lived amongst the people in human form for almost as long. No one thought much of seeing a wolf roam the city’s outlying fields or groups of them congregating on the edges of farmland. 

  Seeing a wolf roam the middle of town on a Friday night, however? That had gotten him busted by the law; more specifically the dog warden. None of this would’ve happened if Peeta hadn’t gotten into old man Abernathy’s moonshine with his brother earlier in the evening.

  Rye had better spring me out of here, and quick, he thought, resting his large head on his paws. The cage he was held in was too small for his human form, and that made transforming out of the question. Members of the pack could never let humans watch them shapeshift. He had to hang tight for now.

  “Are you hungry boy?” Mags asked, unlocking his door a moment later and sliding in a bowl of kibble. 

  Peeta whined, turning his face from the food. Even if he hadn’t felt as though he might get sick in here, dog food was only eaten as a last resort. 

  Yes, he’d tasted kibble and no, he didn’t like it. 

  “Maybe you got into something nasty while you were out on your own, a dead animal or something? Did it give you a tummy ache I wonder…” Peeta coughed a little, covering the gag he actually felt at the idea of rancid roadkill. Run-of-the-mill wolves might eat roadkill, but his kind would not.

  “Here’s some water for you,’ Mags told him conversationally as she slid the second dish inside the crate. 

  Peeta couldn’t help it, he yipped and put his head in the bowl, taking long, undignified slurps of the water. He typically didn’t like eating or drinking in his wolf form, but sometimes it couldn’t be helped. What he wished for was some aspirin or Pepto tablets.

  She continued speaking to him in that gentle, soothing tone she reserved for the animals in her care. “Drink up. I still can’t believe I didn’t find a microchip on you somewhere. I know someone has to be missing you- so don’t worry boy, I’d wager your owner will be here soon enough.”

  The old woman pottered around the holding area, which only had Peeta in residence at the moment. “You finish that up, and we’ll move you to the big room. You don’t want to stay back here all alone, do you?”

“Come on in girls,” Mags said, unlocking the door to the corridor lining the holding rooms for the dogs and shuffling backward out of the way. The steel door Mags wrangled weighed almost as much as she did, and it was like playing hell to keep the force of it from slamming her against the wall.

  Prim bolted through the moment it opened while Katniss followed much more slowly, shaking her head at her sister’s antics.

  “Talk you into coming again?” Mags asked, patting the older teen on the back. It wasn’t really a question.

  Katniss nodded curtly and let her lips curl up in the slightest hint of a smile. “Yep,” she drawled.

  It had become the sister’s habit over the last several months, since the first weekend Katniss had her driver’s license and the keys to her mom’s rusty station wagon, to visit the local shelter on Saturday mornings and help Mags with the strays. The two girls would typically walk the dogs, help her feed the animals and clean up the pens. 

  Any time Mags tried to thank Katniss for her help, the older girl would typically mutter something about how great volunteering would look on her college application. She always shook her head at Katniss’s attitude; that girl didn’t know the first thing about taking a compliment or credit for anything, either.

  “Who do we have this morning?” Prim asked, walking down the corridor and peeking her head in at each of the dogs.

  “Oh, we’re not too full. The usual cast of suspects is here, plus one I picked up this morning. He’s kind of a big fella, un-neutered, caught snarling at some teenage boys hanging around outside of the movie theater,” Mags said. “One of the boys who reported him was that one who’s got a thing for you… what was his name?” she snapped her fingers when the name came to her recollection. “Gale Hawthorne! He’s the one.”

  Katniss shook her head and walked over to the corner where Mags kept the leashes hanging from a hook. “Does anyone need to be walked?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

  “Katniss went out on a date with Gale last night,” Prim volunteered unexpectedly, giggling under her breath. 

  Katniss dropped the leash from her hand. 

  “Did he call while you were with him, Kat?” Prim continued.

  “No, he didn’t. And Prim,” Katniss scowled at her sister, “shut up.”

  “Really? Well, Gale is a good looking boy,” Mags volunteered, surprised but wholly oblivious to the tension hanging between the girls. She wouldn’t have pegged that Hawthorne kid as Katniss’s type. He was too big and broody, his personality too much like hers. She’d seen him running around town with a lot of different girls. “You going out with him again?”

  “I don’t think so,” Katniss volunteered softly, “we didn’t hit it off.”

  Meanwhile, Prim peered into the crate where the new dog was resting. “Hey boy,” she greeted him, her tone gentle.

  The dog was big, with silvery-blond fur and a wide stance. He had a broad frame, but his paws and head were over-large as if he were still a juvenile, and very un-doglike blue eyes stared dully back at her as he whined, giving Prim the distinct impression that he was in pain. But that wasn’t the only thing that seemed off about him. “What kind of dog is this, Mags?” she finally asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Husky or something like that, I think.”

  Katniss walked over then, coming to a stop next to her sister and peering into the pen. The big male seemed to perk up at the sight of her, before ducking his head and using his paws to cover his face. 

  “He seems embarrassed,” Prim giggled, nudging her sister. “He is a boy dog- he must think you’re pretty!”

  Katniss ignored her sister’s ribbing. “You need to get your eyes checked, Mags. That’s a wolf,” she said bluntly after she’d studied him for a moment. “At least part wolf.”

  “Katniss, hush,” Prim hissed, glaring at her sister before glancing over to see if Mags had been paying attention. 

  The older woman continued humming as she sorted through paperwork on her desk, blissfully alone in her own world.

  Prim breathed a sigh of relief. 

  So far so good.

  “Well, it is!” Katniss countered, jarring her sister back to reality.

  “What do you think is going to happen to a wolf at the dog shelter? They don’t have a way to take care of something like that here. Mags will have to call someone from the state to come in and get him if she finds out.”

  Katniss scowled at her younger sister. Leave it to Prim to be so concerned about a wild animal’s welfare. Well, half-wild at least. The dog (or whatever he was) seemed pretty tame. Maybe he had an owner somewhere. 

  Still, Katniss put up an argument. “If I know he’s a wolf, and you know he’s a wolf, don’t you think anyone else who comes in here and takes one look at him is going to figure out what he is? Mags is gonna know sooner rather than later.”

  Prim bit her lip and turned to study the dog again. He still had his face covered with one of his paws but moved the other enough to uncover a single eye. The dog’s solemn gaze moved back and forth between the girls. He seemed to be listening to their conversation very carefully. 

  “Why don’t we take him home? He isn’t safe here- someone from the game warden’s office will come to get him, and then what?”

  Katniss laughed. Her sister had to be the only twelve-year-old who knew about the inner workings of animal management in local government. “No way. We can’t take him home. That thing… whatever he is, he might eat Buttercup, and then you’d feel terrible.”

  “He seems very civilized…” Prim countered, turning to face Katniss head-on.

  “There’s a lot to think about when taking in a dog. He’d… he’d hurt you if he decided to hump your leg. Look how big he is!” Katniss sputtered out.

  Prim rolled her eyes. “Aww, he wouldn’t do that. Look at that sweet face of his!”

  The dog was staring at them with his head cocked and his jaw hanging loose. His expression was almost incredulous. 

  Katniss stared at him. He was very sweet looking. But instead of giving in to her sister’s pleading and her own softening towards him, she shook her head. “Prim, sweet or not- that dog is not coming home with us.” 

“Thanks for taking him off my hands, girls,” Mags said as she opened the back end of the station wagon to let the wolf-dog climb in. “If his owner turns up I’ll send them your way.”

  “Oh don’t worry. No problem at all. Maybe we’ll keep him!” Prim chirped, patting the dog on top of his head.

  Peeta turned his head just enough to lick her palm and gaze at her with nervous eyes.

  Once Katniss shut the hatch behind him, he laid down in the back of the station wagon, fighting the full-throttle panic that was taking over. 

  This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to be going home with a family- shit, he had a shift at the bakery in two hours. He was going to be in so much trouble when his mother found out about this. 

  This was all just abso-fuckin-loutley fantastic. 

  Peeta got up in the back end of the station wagon just long enough to turn in a circle several times before laying back down again. He was too agitated to sit still. 

  How was he supposed to get away from them and find somewhere he could change back to human form?

  And to make things a million times more awkward, you know, because this wasn’t his idea of hell on earth or already, it wasn’t just any random girl taking him home, it was Katniss- the girl of his dreams and the entire reason he’d made an ass of himself and gotten locked up last night.

  Not that any of that was her fault, no- Peeta was a big boy (wolf?) and he would take responsibility for his actions, which had been idiotic. He’d spotted Katniss walking out of Sae’s with Gale Hawthrone last night and seen red. Fucking Gale with his hands on her back, Gale leaning in and trying to kiss her. Peeta couldn’t help but feel like he was being punished somehow- like this display was happening because he was too much of a chicken shit to ask her out himself.

  Peeta had been so drunk he hadn’t realized that he’d shape-shifted before going after Gale, barking and snarling aggressively as if he were rabid. Which hadn’t been ideal- although looking back on it, if he ever did want to try talking to Katniss it was probably better that she didn’t know it had been him acting like a jackass that night. 

  And now he was in a huge mess because of that behavior. He just needed to figure out how to get out of the Everdeen’s home and back to his place before things got any worse.

Well, maybe Peeta would wait just a tad longer before sneaking home…

  He found it hard to get up and go once he’d sprawled out on the couch with his head resting on Katniss’s lap. She was using her nails to scratch the top of his head and behind his ears, something he’d just discovered was his idea of heaven in wolf form. 

  Peeta knew he’d have to be careful or he might end up humping her leg before the day was out- and there was no coming back from that brand of shame.

  “Scruffy seems happy,” Prim said, petting the smooth fur of his back. 

  “Scruffy” sighed again and closed his eyes. That’s not a very original name, Peeta thought. But then again, it’s not like I can stay with them for long, so what does it matter? She could call me Shithead if she wanted to.

  “He sure does like you, doesn’t he? I thought he was going to be my dog. Huh.” Prim continued, her tone of voice a little salty. 

  Katniss laughed, bending over Scruffy’s head and kissing the space between his ears, letting her lips linger there before laying her head on his and curling her entire body in towards him. 

  “He’s not a pillow,” Prim said.

  “I disagree,” Katniss said. The dog’s fur was soft, warm and silky, and he smelled nice, not any type of a scent one would associate with a dog. It was more like… cookies, which was unexpected but good. 

  Katniss had never really been a dog person, so it was surprising how safe and comfortable she felt with this one. Her anxiety melted away as she cuddled with him.

  “I’ve never seen you that affectionate with a person, let alone a dog,” Prim continued.

  “Maybe he can be my therapy dog,” Katniss said. “I need something after seeing Gale last night- which was terrible, by the way. And Scruffy is a very good boy, much nicer than human ones.“

  “Your date with Gale couldn’t have been that bad,” Prim chided. 

  “It was,” Katniss said. “He wouldn’t keep his hands off of me! He kept trying to touch my butt.”

  Peeta nuzzled against her gently, but he couldn’t help but rub his head against her in a territorial manner. 

  If only leaving his scent on her actually would work to keep human guys away. I knew something was wrong. That bastard. That’s okay, Katniss- I’ll be your therapy dog as long as you want me to, he thought.

  “I wouldn’t complain if his brother’s hands were all over me.” Prim giggled. “Rory is cute.”

  Katniss sat up and glared at her sister. “You are not allowed to say things like that. You’re twelve. You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  “Yeah, and you’re sixteen. You should be wanting guys to hold you and kiss you,” Prim countered. “Don’t act like there’s something wrong with me when you’re the one who’s a weirdo.”

  “I’m not- Prim, I’m not a weirdo! Why would you want some guy you aren’t even interested in putting his hands all over you?” Katniss asked as she rested her head on Scruffy again. She was instantly calmer. The big furry dog made her feel like the world was shut out. Maybe they really should keep him…

  “Why wouldn’t you?” Prim teased.

  Katniss sighed. “With that attitude, you are never, ever going to be allowed to date, just so you know.”

  Can’t say I blame you for that Katniss. She’s too cute and there are too many assholes looking for nice girls to take advantage of, Peeta thought as his eyes slipped closed. He was fully aware that he needed to figure out a way to get home, but the drunken night and short amount of sleep he’d gotten had caught up with him, finally. He couldn’t fight the sleep off any longer if he tried.

  Peeta was so damn comfortable laying draped across the girl of his dreams, and Katniss was petting his head and telling him he was a good boy… not to mention she’d just validated his distrust of his arch-nemesis Gale… 

  And well- maybe he was a good boy after all…

  It was only moments later when he was snoring lightly.

#Springtime Edition 2020 #submission #endlessnightlock #567inpanem #prompt 61

[drunk-for-aruani]

D-do you have fanfic recomendations?? I need it for........ reasons

ARMIN/ANNIE FANFICS

(As we’d like to think) by magicites

Summary: Four times Armin attempts to get closer to Annie, and the one time that it works perfectly.

In Another Life, We’d be Good for Each Other by RosaTonta

Summary: For so long, he lived under the notion that she had been a good person. He had been wrong. She was a good person for someone else. So good that she would imprison herself to avoid compromising them.Was this envy that made his fingers grip the pen a little harder?

XX by theowlinsomniac

Summary: [1920’s AU] Armin Arlert, a student at a local NYC college studying to be an author, encounters a big city girl by the name of Annie Leonhardt that will change his life forever. Although her wealth may be a mystery to him, her affiliations with an infamous gang become increasingly apparent, and the pair must choose between the love they’ve built and the lives they once had.

The Fourth, The Fifth by macrauchenia

Summary: He snaps open the cylinder again and fishes a small, lead bullet from his pocket. “One bullet?” Annie ventures.“One bullet,” Armin confirms, dropping the tiny oblong ball of metal into the first chamber.“In a perfect game,” he begins slowly, “there would be eight shots. Four for me and four for you.” The young man hesitates for a moment before continuing. “Although, I have a feeling we may not get to all eight. We’ll go in turns,” he says, pressing the gun into Annie’s hands.

[One of the Hallelujah Trilogy] [Dark!AruAni]

Ice Queen by Aespren

Summary: Usually, on Halloween, Annie Leonhart locks herself in the basement with a good book and a pair of headphones so that she can avoid the noise of any trick-or-treaters that come to the door. But after Armin offers to come over and help with the shelling out, she may just have to change her tradition.

I Won’t Let You Fall by angeltrumpets

Summary: Annie is quite skilled at iceskating, but Armin hasn’t skated before.

Save the Last Dance by tentsubasa

Summary: When Armin Arlert gets paired with the harsh and technically perfect Annie Leonhart to put on the dance show of a lifetime, he knows he’s in way over his head. But with his career on the line, he’s determined to make things work one way or another. Who knows? Maybe it won’t be so bad…provided she doesn’t kill him. Mentions of BeruYumi and EreMika.

Folie a Deux by AryanCoconut

Summary: Armin Arlert is a regular freshman at a college in New York. Annie Leonhart is the terrifying woman he falls madly in love with. They’re both fucked up in their own way, but they each might be just the thing the other needs.

Ada Lovelace by orphan_account

Summary: He finds her behind a dumpster. [Established Aruani college AU where Armin finds a cat]

The Marriage of True Minds by Jelly

Summary: Today is the beginning of the rest of her life. A life planned for her by her father and mother, with no room for error or speculation. She will go to Diagon Alley in the morning to buy her wand, her books, and her robes; she will go to Hogwarts and be sorted into Slytherin like the rest of her family; she will do magnificently in all her classes; and she will gain a seat in Ministry of Magic. She will marry a Braun or a Hoover to keep her bloodline pure, and her children will rinse and repeat.“You’re lucky to be a Leonhardt,” they tell her. “You are lucky you were born to a family with such prestige.”Lucky, they say. Annie doesn’t quite think it’s the same word she would use.

[Hogwarts AU for Aruani Week 2016.]

Crossdresser by macrauchenia

Summary: “You’re wearing…a skirt?” Annie ventured again. She had always thought herself a fairly shock-proof soldier, only shaken by the strangest or most grotesque of things. However, the periodical oddity still managed to catch her off guard. Such as the sight of Armin Arlert in a skirt. Mikasa’s skirt, no less. [AruAni fluff]

Paranoid by Flailingkittylover

Summary: She’s been told hell lives across the sea, been told how something so simple as the inhabitant’s breathing is a sinful crime. Annie wonders if the island dwellers will soon think the same of them.

Wir Werden Uns Wiedersehen by lionhart

Summary: Childhood sweethearts Armin Arlert & Annie Leonhart are separated after Armin’s family are forced to flee from Nazi Germany to England. Before Armin departs, both swear that they will one day be reunited. By 1944, Armin is left with nothing but his best friend, Eren, and the two make a trip across war-torn Europe to find Annie. WWII AU setting. AruAni, EreMika, YumiKuri.

Memories of Her by SerphenySlayer

Summary: After Armin acquires Bertolt’s memories, thoughts of Annie are constantly felt to the point where he begins to feel her differently than before.

All you need is… dance? by shinyarmin

Summary: Annie dreams of becoming a professional ballerina as far back as she can remember. A change of events forces her to drop off her Professional Dancing School, and attending a local dancing academy instead. Not everything happened as she had thought.

College/Ballet AU.

Paint Me an Ocean by 3DMG Shenanigans (Lightningpelt)

Summary: Armin Arlert’s world is turned upside-down when he meets a deterministic young beauty: Annie Leonheart, a girl engaged- and resolved -to be married to a dear childhood friend that she claims to have no romantic feelings for. Armin, a firm believer in the existence of free-will, is all too ready to argue that she should follow her heart instead. He may, however, be a bit biased, considering her heart would most certainly lead her straight into his waiting arms.

AruAni with a side of ReiBert; Modern AU inspired by “The Painter” (Pierce the Veil)

Trust by mimi-writes2000

Summary: A one shot about Armin and Annie finally having a moment after they met in chapter 126

Play with me by Takiiraa

Summary: As an FBI agent, Armin Arlert's mission is to arrest a serial killer named Annie Leonhart. But this talented policeman and talented psychopath will start to get obsessed with each other.

feel free to add your fav fics to this list ^^

#aruani #Annie Leonhardt #armin arlert #i hope you enjoy it

[fallen-in-dreams]

Chasing A Dream

Links: FF.net & AO3. Pairing: Sakura/Kakashi. Summary:  Her mother always told her to follow her dreams. In this case, her dream happened to have silver hair, mismatched eyes, and a smile that took her breath away. And she was determined to follow him all the way, even if he decided to break her heart. KakaSaku AU. Status: Complete.

Enjoy. ^_^

.:.

Sorry I have to leave so abruptly, Daddy. I’ll come back as soon as I can, okay? I know you’re disappointed in me. I wasn’t trying to shame you. I love you. I love you both. I’ll see you soon. Tell mama I’m fine. I always know my way home. - Love, Sakura.

.

Sakura Haruno walked for half a mile to get to the service area where she knew that drivers congregated before leaving Wajima. She did her best to dress like a foreigner and not show her Roma origins—nomads (Sanka) were considered as un-Japanese as any foreigner (Gaijin). She wouldn’t win the sympathetic ride with a stranger wearing her usual bodice and scarf.

She decided on a simple shirt and her nice jeans; they fit comfortably and hugged her well. It was cold out, even in the middle of the day, so she brought a heavy coat; one that was still easy to wear with her travelling backpack.

Her goal was to hitchhike her way to Tokyo. Depending on traffic and how long it would take to get a ride, the trip would take about seven hours. It would be expensive if done with public transportation; she had to save what little money she had for those things once she actually got to her destination.

To him.

And she was unfamiliar with the more typical ways of travelling through Japan. This was her last option; she had put this off long enough. For the first time since the last time she’d seen him, she wasn’t running from her problems; rather, meeting them head on. Before her father got it into his head to ruin things with that famous temper of his. Images of silver hair and mesmerising, mismatched eyes, invaded her thoughts unbidden and she sighed deeply before looking around contemplatively.

Service areas like this all over Japan made hitchhiking that much easier. Cars, trucks, motorcycles—there was a plethora of drivers to choose from. Sakura had hitched before—her first time had been when a second cousin went into labour. The pinkette was twelve years old at the time, and her parents were nowhere to be seen, so she’d had to make her way to the hospital on her own. It was easy, safe, and fun, really.

If you were careful.

A girl on her own was an easy target for perverts and predators, but Sakura always made sure to go with families or women; she was a good judge of character, so that elderly man had been a smart choice, regardless. But she wasn’t a weakling; she knew how to handle herself. Anyone who tried something with her would get a twisted arm and a swift kick to the shins or balls. Whichever one tickled her fancy.

This place was perfect; away from the expressway and most people here were headed in the same direction.

A few minutes into her perusal, a teenage girl waved at her and Sakura waved back. She looked to be with her parents. They had a Suzuki and ample room. She approached them with her sign; it read ‘Osaka’.

Sakura put on her best friendly smile and fake accent. “Konnichiwa.”

“You going to Osaka?”

The pinkette nodded silently, remembering that while it was uncommon for Japanese people to hitchhike there were no laws against it; it was just best to appear to need help, like a foreigner rather than a local.

“You speak Japanese?”

Maybe it was her hair, but she was often treated like a foreigner no matter what she said or did; she didn’t understand it. But she always just went with it. The key was to look as harmless and friendly as possible.

“Hai.”

The girl conferred with her parents and then came running back over to Sakura and threw her arms around her. “You look like you are a good person. We can take you as far as Toyama, okay?”

“Hai.”

“Okay!”

The girl talked Sakura’s ear off the whole time, going on about her family vacation and how she loved Winter so much.

So bloody much.

But Sakura kept her smile on and upon disembarking at a service area near the Toyama train station, felt compelled to show her appreciation. She bowed deeply. “Doumo. Arigato.”

Alone again, she sighed nervously.

One ride down.

Shifting the weight of her backpack out of nervous habit, she ambled her way through the crowd of vehicles, glancing at the faces of the drivers and any passengers they might have. She was looking for the concerned face, the curious face; the honest face.

Found three.

It was a couple and their six-year-old boy, wearing matching outfits, looking like they were heading for the Alps. They accepted her quickly, saying how they didn’t want to leave her here on her own, and looking so vulnerable.

“There are some sickos these days,” the mother muttered, while the father nodded in agreement.

They seemed sane to Sakura.

“We’re going to Myoko,” the little boy said excitedly, the moment the pinkette climbed into their Subaru.

Sakura humoured him, listening to him talk about all the skiing he was going to do, and that he had to go to some boring wedding instead of the night-time Onsen. He was really cute, and she found herself feeling wistful and nervous, thinking about what awaited her at her destination. So much so that she gave in when he pestered her about where she was going. She told him almost everything...

“Sayōnara, Sakura-chan! And good luck!”

Left again at a service area, Sakura quickly got to work scoping out the people and their vehicles again. The next car she got belonged to another group of friends, middle-aged women on their way to some kind of religious retreat. She listened to their excited chatter in polite silence but was glad to be on the move again.

Next ride.

It was like riding a bike now; her instinct didn’t fail her as her eyes zeroed in on five people who looked around her age, almost twenty. They turned out to be college students on holiday and could take her all the way to Tokyo—their ultimate destination was Yokohama, where apparently, they all had family.

They were so boisterous and so energetic that it was contagious. Sakura found herself laughing for the first time in months. It made her temporarily forget her imminent problems. They were so warm, she found herself drawn to them. A loud blond guy in particular, seemed to just radiate kindness, and the banter between him and the raven-haired guy she assumed was his best friend, was the highlight of the trip.

When they made it to her drop off point, she was disappointed.

The blonde girl took her elbow and stopped her from leaving dejectedly. “You need money for the bullet train? They’re faster and will be safer this time of night.”

Sakura shook her head as they suggested giving her the money. “I couldn’t–”

“You can.”

“We insist. Go get your man!”

A wad of cash was shoved in her hands and bouts of cheers from the group followed her as she walked away, and Sakura blushed heavily. That little boy with the concerned parents had opened a floodgate and she couldn’t keep her damn mouth shut! This was highly unusual behaviour. Did everyone around here give money to strangers?

That had been a particularly rowdy group of college students, she decided naively. Definitely out of the norm.

Best to just accept the money and get on the train.

Sakura waved back at them and made her way in the direction they’d indicated. Tokyo was a very odd place. There was a bus station nearby, and the train station was lit up and dazzled her. She strained her neck looking around; its services also included commercial centres for shopping, dining, and entertainment. Everything was so big and lively! She spent a few minutes just gaping like a tourist before remembering why she was here.

Sakura steeled herself and took the directions the students had given her to the correct station and line.

She bought her ticket from the vending machine and passed through the Fare Gate, rushing to get onto the locomotive. She just wanted to get this part over with. The Tokaido line would take her directly to her destination.

Sakura pulled out a piece of paper as she took her backpack off and sat down next to it in her seat. All she had was an address, and vague directions; she’d gotten it from her father’s own journals. She read it silently, committing it to memory. This was it. This was what she’d been dreading and anticipating. When she would finally see him again.

Sighing, she settled into the seat and stared out the window, her eyes taking in the beautiful landscape as the Shinkansen Bullet Train started moving. It was this kind of view that she loved most about travel. Having been a part of her family performance group her whole life, she was no stranger to moving around. Japan was truly the most hospitable and exciting country; even when they did stick to the Ura-Nihon (the backside of Japan).

And it was that lifestyle that had gotten her into her current predicament.

She remembered it like it was yesterday.

.:.

Gypsies, tramps, and thieves: dealings with those unwanted was not something most businessmen would risk. That was why just talking to Kizashi Haruno was considered on par with black market dealings. Moving things across prefecture borders via Roma who performed shows for a living supposedly came with all the mystique of illegal dealings but with none of the danger of dealing with the Yakuza.

It was the preferred choice for shady men who were too cowardly to deal with the real crime syndicate.

And Sakura was both repulsed and intrigued by her father’s dealings. Every client had their own story to tell, though, and she was a sponge for information. Every negotiation and patented deal were slightly different to the last, but they were all conducted the same; in brisk, formal manners with no-nonsense chit-chat and a back-and-forth debate that seemed redundant.

Eager to listen in, she always took the initiative to pour the tea for her father and his clients when they met in his tent. They paid her no mind as they continued to talk business—after all, what would a little girl know about the price of illegal dried meat or black-market liqueurs? She learned a lot from listening in but could only linger for so long.

Several months after her eighteenth birthday, a new business associate of her father’s caught her eye; and this man did seem to be bothered by her presence during their talks. He was so no-nonsense that Sakura imagined he’d have her standing to attention and saluting if he’d wanted to, but he also greeted her father with a smile that seemed genuine (a twinkle in his eyes) and a handshake that didn’t look designed as some macho display of dominance.

It took her breath away.

He was… different from the others. And his visits lasted longer; her father seemed to like him more and more every time they sat to talk business. And when Sakura poured the man’s tea he said, “thank-you” when none of the others would even look at her, probably thinking her some simple serving girl. When she froze in shock for a few seconds, he raised an eyebrow at her and waited for her to move away before taking a sip from his drink. When she didn’t leave the room immediately, his gaze would flicker to her curiously.

She often felt his mismatched eyes on her as she left the room. He didn’t dare to stare at her in any disrespectful way with her father in the room—he definitely wasn’t as ignorant or creepy as her father’s other clients. She had no idea why he was there because, instead of paying attention to what he was saying, she would be focused on his voice. And he would stop talking once he realised, she was listening in.

His curious looks turned into intense stares and she would give him a shy smile before exiting the tent. It was an interesting back and forth—kind of like flirting. Sakura had never flirted before, so she wasn’t sure if she was doing it right. Her father had been in talks for a few weeks in order to marry her to the son of a friend (a well-placed man in their Roma clan), so she was expected to avoid boys, sex, and the like. But Kakashi Hatake was responding to her awkward flirting, catching her eye when her father was distracted, giving her a dark, penetrating look when she was doing chores and he was passing by with Kizashi leading the way out (or in) to their encampment.

He wanted her.

And she had to admit, it felt good to be on the receiving end of his obvious need, though she considered him a gentleman, since to the casual observer, he seemed to treat her well enough; his smiles were innocent and his choice of honorifics when addressing her were appropriate for their non-relationship status. He was just a business acquaintance of her father’s and nothing more.

At least, that was what she thought. She was soon to be betrothed, after all.

But she couldn’t help imagining her life however, if Kakashi made a claim for her and took her away to live with him. She fantasised that he would save her from her boring life; she loved her family, but Sakura craved more. She had no idea what his life was like, but she wanted it. The sexual tension between them would not go away; a sense of both trepidation and anticipation filled her being. Sakura knew it would be frowned upon, that her father would rage, but she wanted him too.

Didn’t men usually make the first move in these situations? She’d heard they did.

Maybe he was just biding his time?

On what was apparently his last dealing with her father, Kakashi found himself in a pickle; his ride home had abandoned him, and her father insisted on letting him hitch with them, as they were headed in the same direction, come morning. His mind was made up and that was the end of things. Kakashi Hatake gave a grateful smile, his eyes twinkling when they met green and Sakura blushed under his gaze, her own smile eliciting another one of his dark, penetrating stares. She could feel a heat building up inside her as he licked his lips and exhaled deeply.

“Sakura?”

Her mother’s voice snapped her out of her reverie and Sakura dutifully left to help her, with whatever she needed. It was almost dinner time.

Supper was a nightmare. Sakura rubbed her thighs together, trying to hide her obvious interest the entire time. Luckily, only Kakashi noticed.

That night, long after her parents had gone to bed, Sakura Haruno lost her virginity.

He’d come to her tent, knelt down in front of her, parted her legs, and taken his time introducing her to sex. It had lasted for hours. And he spent most of the night inside her before slinking back to his own tent after she’d fallen asleep. When she woke, the only proof he’d been there were the indent from his head on one of her pillows, the foreign soreness between her legs, and the smell of sex that still lingered in the air.

She was profoundly disappointed.

And he’d seemed to have gotten what he wanted, acting normally on the rest of their trip, giving only a minute longing glance in her direction to show her she hadn’t imagined it before leaving their caravan behind.

“He’s such a nice man,” her mother said, watching him go. “And so handsome,” she added, fanning herself. “We should have him over more often.”

Sakura swallowed back a sob and forced herself to pretend everything was all right, so she could go back to her normal, boring life. But three months later, a discovery upended her life, and everything changed.

 .:.

“Forty-Six, forty-seven...” Sakura counted off the numbers as she made her way through the hallway. Kakashi Hatake lived in a luxury high-rise building with a view of the waterfront as well as a park. She wondered idly how many of his illicit dealings paid for this place. He had to be no normal smuggler to afford a place like this; it was far out of her reach, even if she were to drain her father of the combined intake from his clients.

She stopped at the correct number and let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

This is it.

Yep. All she had to do was ring that bell and wait.

And wait impatiently.

Is he even home?

She’d heard the bell ring through the apartment from her position but there was no other noise inside.

The passing maid gave her a strange look, adding more to Sakura’s embarrassment; reminding her she wasn’t dressed to match the décor. She sighed, undid the buckles on her backpack and slid down the door to sit to wait for him to turn up. It wasn’t the middle of the night—just barely ten o’clock—so surely, he wasn’t fast asleep yet?

Speaking of sleeping; Sakura drifted off so quickly she didn’t remember falling asleep when a hand was gently shaking her awake. It seemed all her worry had exhausted her more than she’d realised.

“Sakura?”

That familiar voice had her freezing instantaneously, then slowly looking up into the mismatched eyes of her lover. That thought made her blush, but she fought it down. He knew better than to ask if her father was aware, she’d camped out in front of Kakashi’s door; what they had, what they’d shared, no-one else could know.

The energy between them shifted; it had always been electric.

As he stared at Sakura, Kakashi couldn’t help but think that everything was about to change.

He sighed, rubbed his left eye tiredly, and helped the girl up, off the floor. She was exactly as he remembered, except that she wore normal clothes instead of the bodice that had flared at her breasts, giving him an ample view of her goods. He smirked inwardly, remembering rubbing his hands over those very supple goods not three months ago.

Was that why she was here? He was confused. He cleared his throat.

“Do come in.” He unlocked the door and swung it open to let Sakura into his apartment, taking note of her sudden and obvious nerves, not to mention that she had a death grip on her backpack. “Please take your shoes off. The maids here are vicious if they catch even a whiff of the outside on these hardwood floors.”

Sakura nodded and looked around for a shoe rack.

“Here.”

Kakashi led her off to the side to place her things.

“Do you want some tea?” He might as well play the good host, considering her father had always been gracious to him.

“N-no.” Uh... “Yes,” she amended after shivering.

“What kind?”

“Hot.”

He didn’t bother pointing out to her that tea came in hundreds of flavours and was always “hot”. Well, all the tea he’d bother drinking, anyway. He busied himself in the kitchen, instead. “Make yourself at home!”

Sakura carefully placed her shoes on the rack and shrugged off her coat. Her hand went to her stomach and she felt mild panic; this was why she was here, but it was terrifying. She closed her eyes, focusing on the sounds of Kakashi moving about in his kitchen, preparing their tea.

I can do this.

Gingerly, she made her way into the kitchen, too nervous to take in the large and gorgeous apartment he owned. It had never occurred to her that he wasn’t single… but now the question tormented her brain. The idea that she’d slept with someone’s spouse, that she had trekked across the country to see him and was laying her pregnancy problems on someone who was spoken for… she suddenly felt cheap.

Sakura stopped a foot from the kitchen and glanced back at the living room, eyes darting about and looking for clues of a girlfriend or wife. There were none. But she wasn’t going to stop panicking until she knew for sure. Taking a deep breath, she entered the kitchen, laid her coat on one of the kitchen stools, her eyes on the back of Kakashi’s head as he whistled along with the kettle.

When he turned to face her, she felt her insides squirm in nervous anticipation; but the kitchen island bench was high enough to hide her small protruding belly. He smiled that award-winning smile.

“I’ll just be a minute, you can wait in the serving room if you want, then we can talk about what brought you to my humble abode, yeah?”

She wasn’t sure how to interpret that hopeful look on his face, but she nodded, waiting for him to turn back to the tea before slipping out into the other room like he suggested.

Oh gods.

Her nerves had just skyrocketed.

Sakura studied the pictures on the opposite wall to the tatami mat, entwining her fingers as she attempted to simmer her nerves. None of the people in the photos looked like his “other half” so to speak; there were people in business suits and an elderly couple in several that looked like Kakashi’s parents. The one that stood out was a photo of Kakashi and two others—a guy and girl, but the way those two were holding each other, she figured she didn’t have anything to worry about.

I hope.

She spun around quickly as Kakashi entered the serving room, like she’d been caught reading his dirty magazines or something. He wasn’t looking directly at her as he moved to place the tea try on the low table in the centre of the room. He looked up and her breath hitched.

“Oh, you took the coat off? I turned the thermostat up, so you don’t have to keep that heavy jacket on–” He paused. “Uh, Sakura?”

His eyes fell to her stomach and widened. “W-what?”

His eyes roamed over her shirt; with the coat out of the way, he could suddenly and terrifyingly understand why she’d come all this way on her own.

“Hai, Kakashi, it’s yours,” she said, to break the silence.

That made it easier. She was showing already, but it was mostly still just bloating; she’d deliberately worn a tighter shirt and cosy jeans to show it off. After taking off her coat, her baby bump was difficult to miss. To the casual observer, she didn’t look pregnant until she’d removed the coat.

Kakashi continued to gape at her.

“Kakashi?”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, quickly recovering his speaking ability. “It’s just... a shock.”

She nodded. “I know. I’m sorry too. But I didn’t know how else to tell you. Daddy...”

She trailed off and he understood. Kizashi was going to kill him. It didn’t matter that he needed the Hatake business right now, his daughter had been defiled and impregnated. No decent father would just let that go. And Kizashi was as decent a father as Kakashi had ever seen. He couldn’t imagine a scenario where the older man wouldn’t yell at him and call him every name under the sun for this.

He swallowed heavily.

“Where does he think you are right now?”

“Not at home.”

He chuckled humourlessly. “I suppose so. Uh,” he motioned to the tea. “Don’t want to waste my hospitality, right?”

She nodded and sat down; he ran a distracted hand through his odd hair and sighed, moving to pour her tea for her, before allowing her to pour his. They sat in silence, across from each other, avoiding eye contact and just enjoying the rich flavour of the tea he’d chosen. She wanted to ask what flavour it was but was feeling too nervous to start idle chatter. She was as nervous as he was, looking everywhere but at Kakashi as she delicately sipped at her tea. When they were both done and the silence dragged on, Sakura was beginning to worry he was going to send her on her way with little but a “I’m too old to have a kid” or some such nonsense.

She cleared her throat, her eyes lowering to her hands, sitting in her lap and twiddling like a schoolgirl. The fear and dread came rushing back when Kakashi seemingly had nothing to say and she didn’t know how to start the topic of what to do now. Her fidgety hands moved from her lap to her knees, back to her lap, and then finally to the serving table. She splayed her hands out, faced down, frowning at them.

Sakura only had to wait a few more minutes after her fidgeting stopped before the father of her unborn child finally broke the silence, causing her to look up at him, now fixated on his mismatched eyes.

“I don’t regret it,” he said slowly. “I…” He held a hand over his face in an attempt to cover his blush, but the look on her face told him he was busted. Kakashi chuckled, resting the hand on hers, instead. He rubbed his thumb over her hand. “It was amazing. You were amazing.”

It was her turn to blush.

“What I’m trying to say is...” He sighed. “I... don’t regret it.” He chuckled at his own expense again. “I’m not really helping, am I?”

She smiled. Sakura appreciated what he was clearly trying to say. She had him tongue tied, apparently. It was a good feeling, surprisingly. It meant she wasn’t just a notch on his belt—she wasn’t forgettable and unwanted. She cleared her throat again.

“Where do we go from here?” She asked, her voice trembling. She was scared of the answer, but also… not. It was strange.

Kakashi ran a hand through his hair—he did that when he was both nervous and unsettled, she’d noticed. Or at least, she gathered so. He wasn’t the most open person, that much was obvious.

“I–”

Whatever Kakashi was going to suggest was drowned out by a loud, abrupt serious of knocks on his front door. Whoever it was wasn’t bothering with the doorbell and sound irate and impatient.

Sakura paled immediately. Her father might’ve put two and two together, somehow… she’d told her friends where she was going. But the caravan answered to her father, so if he really wanted to squeeze information out of them...

Oh my god.

“Hatake!”

Yep, that was Kizashi Haruno’s angry voice.

Kakashi and Sakura stared mutely at each other. They both knew that the longer they took to answer it, the more hell there’d be to pay.

“Kakashi I swear, if you don’t open this damn door–”

Kakashi quickly strode over and swung the door open before Kizashi could finish that sentence.

“Daddy?” Sakura squeaked, standing up.

Her father’s eyes dropped to her protruding stomach as her hand fell to it instinctively. For a moment, it looked like the wind had been knocked out of him; then his face screwed up and he shoved his way inside, leaving Kakashi to close the door in an attempt at some kind of privacy.

Kizashi spun around and growled audibly, his eyes narrowed in on his business partner.

This was it. Sakura knew what was coming.

Kizashi Haruno was infamous for his temper, and when he was at his most angry, her father was a rambler.

His hands flailed and gesticulated as he ranted. “Kakashi, you bastard! What the hell did you think you were doing with my daughter!? She’s soon to be betrothed, not the concubine of a low life porn smuggler!”

Sakura’s eyes widened at this piece of information.

“She’s supposed to lay with her husband, not some one-off, out-dated lady’s man! She deserves better! She deserves more respect than this! To think that Mebuki thought you were a good guy. What the hell is wrong with you, Hatake? I don’t care that you’re a staunch bachelor, you will do right by my baby girl and marry her before it’s too late! And don’t you dare try to blame my little girl for your midlife boner. Take some goddamn, fucking responsibility!”

Silence met this proclamation, but the air was still rife with the tension created by Kizashi’s anger. He huffed and attempted to calm himself; he wasn’t normally a violent man, but he really wanted to punch Kakashi’s lights out. But there was no way he would stoop to that level in front of his little girl. He would deal with that urge later.

Kakashi, for his part, looked thoroughly shamed. He sighed, ran a hand through his hair (again), and nodded toward his future father in law.

Meanwhile, Sakura’s heart was racing. When the hell had this escalated to marriage? The logical part of her brain knew she could no longer marry that son of a friend within their Roma clan, but to marry Kakashi… Well, it wasn’t a horrible idea. But her brain had yet to plan ahead that far, so she was gobsmacked by her father’s insistence; not to mention Kakashi’s strangely immediate acquiescence to this demand.

“Sakura!”

“Daddy?”

Kakashi took the hint and stepped into the kitchen to give them privacy, a little too fast for Sakura’s liking.

Kizashi sighed, one hand falling to her stomach as he kissed her forehead. “What am I going to do with both of you?”

“Daddy, I—”

“It’s my fault. You felt you couldn’t talk to me. Did he… uh, take you against your—”

“No, daddy,” Sakura said, clasping his hand that was still on her stomach. “I wanted it.” She blushed as he glared up at the ceiling. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know. I got your letter.” He sighed as her face dropped. “I just want what’s best for you and I’ve failed you. Now you’re trapped with Mr. King of Black Market Erotica. Nothing immoral,” he assured her when she scrunched up her face in disgust. He sighed again. “Hatake! Get your arse out here!”

Kakashi did as he was told and waited until Kizashi had finished ranting at him again before seeing her father out. “I’ll be in touch for preparations,” her father said, before the door closed.

“Well, that went well,” she chuckled nervously.

They stood in silence again. It felt like she’d aged ten years in the last ten minutes. But as Sakura rubbed her stomach, and Kakashi couldn’t help but watch the motion carefully, she thought maybe that was okay. The father of her baby was no spring chicken. She smiled and he stepped over to her cautiously, placing a hand on her stomach.

Those mismatched eyes of his stared down at her and her breath caught in her throat as they twinkled, and he smiled. He was so beautiful. She suddenly couldn’t wait to see what their child would inherit from him. Sakura stood on her toes, held his face in both hands, and kissed him. He responded immediately; every inch of her body hummed, reminding her of their night together. Of their connection.

“I’ll do good by you, Sakura. I promise,” he said, once they were forced to stop in order to breathe.

And she believed him.

.:.

#KakaSaku #fanfiction #my fanfiction

[maryjancwatson]

IC PORTION; BASICS —

CHARACTER NAME/ALIAS: Mary Jane Watson

FACECLAIM: Madelaine Petsch

AFFILIATIONS: At the moment, unaffiliated. 

AGE (physical age as well, if different): 24

SPECIES (human, metahuman, alien, etc): Human

IS YOUR CHARACTER’S IDENTITY SECRET OR PUBLIC? N/A

IF SECRET, OR YOUR CHARACTER IS A CIVILIAN, DO THEY HAVE A CIVILIAN OCCUPATION?: Mary Jane very recently snagged a job at the UN in Sokovia as their Goodwill Ambassador. Mary Jane is also working with a local charity, both in relief work and working to raise funds independently due to her following on social media platforms.

IF YOUR CHARACTER LIVES IN THE FORTRESS, WHAT ARE THEIR DUTIES? : Maybe one day she will return to being Tony Stark’s coffee bitch.

DESCRIBE SIX TRAITS (3 positive, 3 negative) YOUR CHARACTER HAS AND HOW THESE AFFECT THEM: + Passionate: Anyone that meets Mary Jane knows that she has passion, as it’s clear within the first five minutes of talking to her. She’s passionate about everything: coffee preferences, movies vs. books debates, and in particular, Broadway shows. It goes deeper than that, though, and that becomes clear in knowing her better. Mary Jane practically bleeds for things that she believes in. She gives 110% into everything she does, and it shows. + Adaptable: Mary Jane grew up in an ever-changing environment, and it turned her into a person that can roll with the punches. She’s able to adapt to situations quickly, and is able to think on her feet. She can stay relatively unphased with change and adapt accordingly. + Charismatic: Mary Jane is a people person. She spent so much of her childhood and adolescence moving around that she had to learn how to socialize quickly, and it made Mary Jane into a social butterfly. She knows how to talk to people, knows how to make small talk and easily does the back-and-forth with just about anyone. - Hot-headed: There is no way around it: Mary Jane Watson has a temper. She goes from 0 to 100 in the blink of an eye, and sometimes struggles coming back down to 0. It’s not easy to light the flame under her and set her alight, and it’s something she’s been working on since childhood. Even on the rare occasions where she does manage to keep a lid of the explosions, her facial expressions give it all away. - Commitment-phobic / flighty: Mary Jane doesn’t like to stick to one thing or one place for long, and sometimes has trouble sticking to things. While she gives 100% in passion, sometimes it’s a solid 60% in commitment. She dropped out of college, almost dropped out of high school a few times before that, and never signs more than a six months lease. Most of her romantic relationships have ended poorly because Mary Jane never knows what Mary Jane wants, and she starts to feel claustrophobic when things get tough. This is more on a personal level. Professionally, she sticks to her guns a little more. - Selfish: Mary Jane is always looking out for Mary Jane. She’s trying to do better, but her bottom instinct is always to do what’s best for herself. She’s scrappy, as one needs to be in the showbiz world, but it impacts her personal relationships as well.

POWERS AND/OR ABILITIES: Mary Jane is very human, and possesses no super-human abilities. However, she’s semi-famous with a solid social media following! (if only that were a super power) MJ is charismatic and highly organized, and has a leadership quality to her. She enjoys organization and administrative-type tasks, and is a go-getter to get shit done.

WEAKNESSES: Again, MJ is definitely human. I would say her strongest weaknesses are her fear of commitment and her tendencies to be selfish, as this only gets in her own way of what she wants. Mary Jane is also a chronic over-thinker, and can think herself into a box at times.

WHAT DREW YOU TO THIS CHARACTER? MJ is a spitfire and my spirit animal. She’s feisty and fiery and I love how she’s always unapologetically herself, even when it shoots her in the foot. She’s not the traditional-type character to bring to Sokovia considering she is very much a civilian, but I think her personality can definitely bring some fun.

IC PORTION; DETAILS —

WHAT BROUGHT YOUR CHARACTER TO SOKOVIA? It’s a little complicated. She applied for a job at the UN in Sokovia to be their Goodwill Ambassador, and somehow someway she’d gotten through the first several rounds of interviews. She had gotten a job with a charity working out of Sokovia for the moment as well, as a back-up just in case they went with someone else. But, surprisingly enough (or so it felt to her), she’d gotten the job. The charity work and the Goodwill Ambassador job went hand in hand, and MJ found that it was more joy-bringing than she’d thought it would be.

DID THEY SIGN THE ACCORDS? WHY OR WHY NOT? This isn’t exactly applicable, considering Mary Jane is most definitely a citizen, however she would certainly not have if she was on the other side. 

PROVIDE 3-5 HEADCANONS RELATED TO YOUR CHARACTER: MJ is a chain smoker. She’s tried to quit, though those have only ever been passive attempts at best. She does not do well when she’s off her nicotine. She’s also a fan of the other kind of mary jane, if you catch my vibe. MJ blogs, has a YouTube channel, and practically lives on TikTok. She’s verified on her social media platforms, and has a pretty big following. She still has fans from her Broadway runs and from her short-lived fame on Netflix, and so she does her best to stay relevant and keep them despite her current break from acting. The term ‘social media empire’ comes to mind, even if she feels weird about her claim to fame. MJ lives in high heels and generally dresses nicely. She has a very firm belief that first impressions matter most but all impressions matter. She always wants to look like hell on wheels, even if it’s impractical at times. She usually saves jeans and t-shirts for time at home only, and even then finds herself more comfortable in a dress. Despite having a party girl persona and having dropped out of college, Mary Jane is intelligent. She excelled in history and English courses in high school and in college alike, though her passion was in performing. She’s obsessed with trivia games and trivia-type TV shows. Wheel of Fortune is absolutely her favorite. She’s also super fond of reality TV, the more mind-numbing the better.

POTENTIAL CHARACTER ARCS: Maybe a potential Iron Spider or Spinneret arc? I love civilian!MJ, but I think this would be interesting. This would be a little complicated and would require a lot of thought and plotting, but maybe down the line! IS THERE A THEATRE/DANCE PROGRAM IN SOKOVIA? BECAUSE MJ WOULD BE SO DOWN TO RUN ONE. TEACH LITTLE KIDS BALLET AND SHIT. GIVE HER THAT. Nomad-y things. MJ obviously wouldn’t be affiliated with the rebels from the jump, considering her position in the UN. However, she may gravitate towards at least a sympathizer down the road, considering her connections with Tony.

CHARACTER BIO —

Mary Jane was the second born child to Madeline and Phillip Watson, the first being her older sister Gayle. Her father was a professor, though changed jobs often, resulting in multiple moves throughout Mary Jane’s childhood. Her father wanted to be a writer, not a professor, though his books never succeeded. This led to anger that was often taken out on his family, usually while drunk. Mary Jane was in middle school when her mother decided that enough was enough - her father had been turning on her mother for years, but he’d finally turned on one of the girls. The three left Phillip for good.

Unfortunately, the constant moving didn’t seem to stop. Mary Jane’s mother still moved them around often, usually to be near relatives. Her mother usually worked as a waitress or a bartender, relying on tips for income, which wasn’t always stable. Thankfully, her mother’s family was kind, and would help with the girls as much as they could. Her mother went back to school, deciding that she and her children deserved more. Mary Jane’s favorite relative to stay with was Aunt Anna, who lived in Queens.

The frequent moves caused Mary Jane to have a rather extroverted and fun-loving personality, a way to try to get noticed and make friends quickly. She knew she would never be in one place for long, so she tried to remain care-free. She never allowed herself to get too close, because she knew it would only be so long before she would be moving again. It was easier to have a lot of people she barely knew that were fun to be around than to have a few close friends she would have to say goodbye to.

She was fifteen when her mother got sick, and things went downhill quickly. Mary Jane watched her mother wither away before her eyes, and vowed in that moment to never take life for granted and grab it by the horns. After her mother passed, Mary Jane refused to move back in with her alcoholic father. Part of her blamed him for robbing Mary Jane and her sister of quality years with their mother, and memories of the abuse were still fresh. Instead, she went back to the home where she’d always been the happiest - Mary Jane moved in with her Aunt Anna in Queens.

Her life of the party attitude and fun/over-the-top personality quickly gained her friends in school, though Mary Jane still had trouble letting people in. she knew she wouldn’t be moving again this time, but it was somehow easier for her to have her walls up. People liked her, she liked them, and she told herself that was enough. It wasn’t, really, though it was all she knew how to do. She participated in the drama club and the choirs at school, as well as in community theatre.  This was where she made her true friends, where she made real connections that actually meant something. She had Broadway aspirations and spotlights in her eyes, and worked hard to perfect her craft. However, later in high school she found she had to put some productions on the back burner to get a job to help support the household she was living in. She mostly did waitressing jobs, though found a few assistant/secretary type positions to hold down as well after school.

Mary Jane was accepted into NYU’s musical theatre program at Tisch, and starred in many of their productions. However, she learned that in the real world, auditions were hard to secure and she found obtaining roles was even more difficult. She’d been praised so heavily in high school and during her time at Tisch that this was a harsh slap to the face, though she didn’t give up. She worked at Ellen’s Starlight Diner while in school, and was cast in the off-Broadway production of Heathers as an ensemble role and an understudy to Heather Chandler. Shortly after, she was finally cast in a Broadway production. She was cast as an ensemble part in American Idiot, and she’d never been happier.

After securing her first role, Mary Jane’s name slowly made its way around. She dropped out of school after a lot of consideration, deciding to devote her full attention to work. Her second show was Wicked, another ensemble role though she became Elphaba’s understudy after a few months. She left for the Spring Awakening tour, where she was cast as Wendla.

When the tour ended, Mary Jane experienced a huge wave of auditions due to praise she’d gotten from critics. She landed her first TV role, the main character for a show on a Netflix YA murder-mystery series. Unfortunately, as things went in that genre, she found her character killed off at the finale in the first season. She was brought back to film some flashback type scenes for season two, and then her contract was completed. The rise to fame was quick and unforgiving - MJ went from near constant press and finally feeling like she was making it to nothing. She returned to New York and experienced a drought in auditions, which many actors face. While she knew that, it was a hard pill to swallow after success, and she didn’t want to go back to the diner. An opportunity arose (mostly thanks to her sister’s husband, who worked for Stark Industries and brought up her name and vouched for her) and Mary Jane found herself working for Stark Industries. She was the personal assistant to Tony Stark, and MJ found that she and F.R.I.D.A.Y. worked well together and that she didn’t hate administrative work. It wasn’t acting, but it was a job, and Mary Jane was more than competent in the role. She proved to be organized and efficient, and MJ liked it more than a little. However, before long, the events of Sokovia transpired and MJ found herself without a job. To be fair, she’d quit, finding herself unable to work for Simon Trask and deciding that she’d rather find other opportunities elsewhere.  She’d snagged a role in an off-Broadway production she wasn’t really feeling, and found herself applying for other positions, surprisingly in charity work and using her time at Stark Industries as a reference. She loved performing, would always be an actress at her core, but she found herself searching for something more meaningful. Her time away from film or stage had made her think more clearly on what she wanted in life, and she couldn’t help but feel like she needed more. She snagged a job for a charity in Sokovia, which Mary Jane only really knew about due to the press that had been drawn in after the events that transpired with the Avengers and with the Sokovia Accords. She found herself in the last round of interviews for a job at the UN in Sokovia as the Goodwill Ambassador (she was the right kind of famous, is what they said), and with the charity job already secured, Mary Jane was booking her ticket. 

EXTRAS —

MYERS-BRIGGS: ENFP Sin: Greed & Pride HOGWARTS HOUSE: Slytherin ZODIAC: Scorpio

#srisingintro

[labellerose-acheron]

I never knew a guy who carried a mirror in his pocket / and a comb up his sleeve--just in case / and all that extra hold gel in your hair oughtta lock it / 'cause Heaven forbid it should fall out of place

oh-oo-oh you think you're special / oh-oo-oh you think you're something else / okay, so you're Brad Pitt

that don't impress me much / so you got the brains, but have you got the touch / now don't get me wrong, I think you're alright / but that won't keep me warm in the middle of the night / that don't impress me much - That Don’t Impress Me Much, Shania Twain

Name: Annabelle Rose Beauton (formerly Bonfamille) Occupation: Librarian at the local library... Accolades: Regional Spelling Bee Champion (2010-2013), Debate Team Captain (2011-2013), Decathlon Captain (2011-2013), Model UN, Mock Trial, Girls State, used to work at the local diner through high school probably... How Long Have They Lived in Swynlake: her whole life, so 25 years! (i aged her down to be toulouse’s age lol) State Fair Competition of Choice: Hunter equitation, other horseback riding competitions... They’re the talk of the town because…: She is a divorced single mom with a rumor going around that she wasn’t a good mother and that’s why Lou has majority custody. Her father abandoned her and she was in the system for six years. She’s a Bleeding Heart Liberal. Only married Lou for his money. 

Biography (200 words) (tw death, abandonment, divorce?):

Annabelle Beauton is a girl who has always been down on her luck. Even her sweet, girl-next-door good looks couldn’t do much for her. 

The first tragedy struck when she was five years old, her mother, sweet Caroline, died of breast cancer. Annabelle’s father tried to keep it together for a while, but they eventually had to sell the farm to keep themselves a float. 

A few years later, after drifting from apartment to apartment, Belle came home one day at ten years old to an empty house. Her father was nowhere to be found. Not knowing what else to do, she rode her bike down to the sheriff’s office. The sheriff at the time did the best to find her father, but after a few weeks, well—Annabelle was now all alone, without a guardian. She was put into the foster system. The sheriff found her a nice older couple who took her in for a few years, but when she was sixteen, they both suffered heart attacks within months of each other. 

Alone once more, Annabelle refused to be put back into the foster system. Instead, she petitioned the courts of the town at the time for emancipation. With the support of a local politician, Annabelle was able to declare herself legally emancipated. She was grateful and indebted to the Bonfamille family and grew close with the eldest son: Louis. 

Now, in a small town like Swynlake with no parents and no money, not even a scholarship is gonna cover all your tuition costs. Thankfully, right out of high school, Louis proposed. Annabelle married him a year later in a grand affair that she didn’t really remember much of afterward if she was honest. She was already looking ahead, to the next year, where she would enroll at Pride College. 

Her dream was to be a journalist, but once at school, she started taking classes on the law. It was fascinating to her and she found herself feeling as if she had grown too big for Swynlake. 

Three years into school, she accidentally got pregnant and dropped out in order to take care of Opal full time. Louis graduated the next year, Annabelle was hoping to start school again when Louis was more free to help share child rearing duties, but he was immediately pulled in to work on his father’s campaign for House Representative. Their marriage began to fray, and when Opal was two years old, they got a divorce, much to the shock of everyone in town. 

That was three years ago. Annabelle got a job working at the local library and tried to fight for custody of her daughter, but Louis managed to get majority custody with Annabelle being deemed an unfit mother, citing Annabelle’s lawyerly aspirations and the fact she was the one who filed for divorce. 

Now, Annabelle sees her daughter every other weekend—and around town when they manage to cross paths. She loves the fair for this reason: it is impossible for Louis to miss the events and, of course, he has to bring his daughter with him...

#btau #btaubio #belle always has the longest bios #bc her backstories are so complicated lmao #also this music video is ICONIQUE #everyone watch it for the outfit alone

[incorrect-oldstar-quotes]

never a dull moment

Stars: Thelma Todd, Mabel Normand, Minta Durfee, Edna Purviance

Summary: The girls go for a fast food run and make the ride half the fun.

Words: 1,374

Notes: Requested by @spinningtop397 (thank you again)! Based on one of my all-time favorite vines [x].

🐸☕🐸☕🐸☕🐸☕🐸☕

It was a Friday night and they had everything they needed: Netflix, soft blankets, snacks, and hot beverages. But there was one thing they were missing, and that was the food. It was 11 PM and most sit-down places were closed, but that was just fine because they were comfortable in Mabel and Minta’s room. Then again, it was also too late to order delivery, and none of them wanted to eat ramen again.

They sat and brainstormed ideas and then Thelma spoke up. Rather, she sat up way too fast and scared the others a little bit. “Hey, how about In-n-Out?”

Edna broke the silence with a laugh. “For a second, I thought you just found a killer seafood deal.”

“Actually, I don’t think I’ve had In-n-Out yet,” she commented. That was when everyone remembered that Thelma got to California like 2 months ago and hadn’t really eaten much local yet. “But if I had found a good seafood deal, you would’ve seen a way different reaction.”

Mabel stood up and stretched. “My vote’s on In-n-Out too. Anyone else got an idea?”

Minta and Edna shook their heads no in tandem and began to stand up as well. Edna had no problems getting up from her chair on the floor, but Minta needed some help getting off her bed. She’d been laying down for almost an hour and had gotten a bit too comfortable. “Hey? Uhhhh,” she muttered with a laugh.

“We gotcha,” Thelma said cheerfully as she and Mabel helped her onto the floor. “So who’s driving?”

Edna and Mabel pulled a nose-goes on them, and Thelma caught on before Minta could follow. “I wasn’t looking!” she whined, but there was no energy behind it. They slipped on their shoes, pajamas be damned, and headed to Minta’s car.

Minta’s family was never super rich but they had just enough to pass down her mom’s fifteen-year-old Corolla when she went to college. It was well-kept and just enough to help her get around when it was time to leave campus. Mabel called shotgun, while Edna and Thelma took the back seats.

Thelma opened the passenger seat door and almost sat down until she felt a lump on her seat. “Oh hey- Kermit?”

“Just pass him up here,” Minta said, a little quickly like she was shy about it.

“What are you doing with a Kermit doll in your car?” Thelma asked, suppressing a laugh. 

“It’s a project for my teaching methods class. The professor assigned us all Muppets characters. We have to give some kind of a teaching lecture in character.”

“I’ve been helping a little, but her Kermit is better than mine.”

“Cute,” Edna commented quietly.

“Anyway, I’m the DJ this time. Any music requests? If not, I’m breaking out the 90s.”

Edna and Thelma shared a couple glances. “I’m fine with whatever,” Edna answered. “Hit us with your best.”

“Okay, you got it.” She shuffled the playlist and the first thing she got was “Burn” by Usher, which made the whole car start laughing. Everyone except Thelma, of course.

“What’s so funny?”

Mabel turned around to get a good look at her. “You know who Chico is, right?”

“Is he the stout dude that wears that green hat everywhere? Isn’t he like a super senior or something?”

Mabel nodded. “Yep, that’s the one. He plays this song at every single one of his parties. It’s like 10 years old at this point and he plays it like it’s still the number 1 radio hit.”

Thelma hummed. “He’s an odd little fella but he seems pretty cool. Why’s he been here so long again?”

“He went to study in France one year. Nobody ever sees him in class but he’s actually pretty smart. He’s almost always in the top of his class.”

Edna leaned forward, actually intrigued by the conversation. “Wait, I thought that was Groucho who was the smart one.”

“Well, they’re all different degrees of smart but they just present it differently. Everything just comes easy to Chico, which is why he’s always at the top but you never see him in class. Harpo doesn’t really like to brag about it. Groucho is the bookworm and numbers guy, and Zeppo is good at speaking and writing.”

Thelma laughed. “How do you know so much about the Marx brothers?”

“I’m cool with them all. I’m in Model UN with Zeppo but I knew the others before I knew him. Everybody knows them. If you know one, you know them all. When you’re here long enough, Thelma, you’ll figure them out too.”

By the time they’d finished talking about the brothers, the first song was over and they’d changed to “What’s Up” by the 4 Non-Blondes. Mabel began to sing along and copy the singer’s style, which gave Thelma a great idea.

“Hey, Mabel!” she almost shouted, but not loud enough to distract Minta from driving. “You still have that Kermit doll up there, right?”

“Yeah, he’s right here.” She held him up over her shoulder and started waving at them in the back seat.

“Great. Do you know ‘I Don’t Mind’ by Usher?”

Mabel opened her phone and scrolled through her library. “Actually, yeah, I got it right here.”

“I have a great idea for a meme. Play that one next and sing it in your Kermit voice. I’ll record.”

Thelma was already giddy with laughter as she thought about what was coming up. The current song began to fade and she opened her camera.

“Ready?” Mabel asked, to which she got a thumbs-up.

Thelma chuckled then cheered, “Oooooh, this is my jam!”

This is for the A

Mabel propped the doll up and began to sing, “Shawty, I don’t. MIIIIIIIIND.” Her impression was perfect and it almost made Thelma drop her phone laughing within seconds of hearing it. Edna joined in and eventually Minta did as well, when she was safely turning into the In-n-Out parking lot. 

“Hi, welcome to In-n-Out, order when you’re ready,” the worker at the speaker said on cue. Minta thanked her kindly and then turned to the still-giggly car. The music was turned down but the laughter was still as loud as ever.

“Okay, Giggles McGee, relax for like 2 minutes. What does everyone want?” While Thelma, still teary-eyed from laughter, looked over the menu, the others took turns calling theirs out to the speaker. Once everyone’s orders were in place, they pulled up to the first window.

Mabel nearly crushed Minta to get to the window. She stretched her arms as far as she could and stuck the Kermit out the window.

“Yeah and uhhhhhh do you mind if we get extra ketchup?” she asked in the Kermit voice.

“MABEL NO,” Edna shouted. 

The girl working at the cash register seemed to be living her best life. “Is that a Kermit?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Mabel answered. The other girls hid their faces in embarrassment. “We’re just out getting some eats, listening to some tuuunes, fun night tonight.”

“Okay, that sounds lovely. If you pull up to the next window, they’ll have your order right there.”

“Thank you!” The car sat in idle silence during the exchange, but all Hell broke loose as soon as they pulled away from the window.

“Why do I go anywhere with you?” Minta whined, once again with no heat behind it, but they weren’t too sure about that. Edna and Thelma wheezed laughing in the back seat.

Mabel held the door up again to face her. “Because you love us and we’re just trying to help you get a good grade on that project, like good friends do.”

But apparently word had gotten up to the second window about the special guest in their car. The guy at the second window was already anticipating it.

“I heard you have a Kermit,” he laughed.

Almost on instinct, Mabel turned the radio up again. She’d put Kermit down for a moment, but he was up again when the beat hit.

This is for the A

“Shawty, I don’t.” 

“MIIIIIIIIND.” The other girls decided it was easier to join in than try to argue with her on it. But this is why they love Mabel. She knows just how to make everyone smile.

#mabel normand #thelma todd #edna purviance #minta durfee #silent film #old hollywood #college au #blurbs #okay this one was a lot of fun to write

[demonboidies]

𝓼𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓵𝔂 - 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓳𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓷, 𝓴𝓲𝓶 𝓽𝓪𝓮𝓱𝔂𝓾𝓷𝓰, 𝓳𝓮𝓸𝓷 𝓳𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓰𝓾𝓴

pt. 6

word count; 4,855

<this is a yandere story, therefore this is a trigger warning for emotional abuse, manipulation, toxic relationships and overall unhealthy obsession towards the reader/mc/yn>

tag list: @taezeus​ @jooniescupcakes @aesthetically-messed-up @okpoke​  @aysha489​ @iwannabeanidol (comment under this post to be added, if you comment anywhere else i won’t see it)

➣park jimin

      23 years old with blonde hair (dna/mic drop era) and is an ambitious dancer, singer, and all around performer. he has been creative since he was a young child and it's a big part of his life.

you locked the door after telling Namjoon you had to pick up the boys. well, technically, you were picking jimin up for his lunch/co-curricular. then following that would be taehyung, and jungkook. they all had separate break times considering they had different schedules. the rest of the boys even noted to you that jungkook would spend extra hours in the practice room at their university. dancing his heart out, skipping his lunch.

so you had patiently waited outside the entrance of his school, where he said to wait for him. so when you saw a tuffle of blonde hair bounce amongst the other students, you smiled softly knowing that it was jimin.

so you waved to get his attention, successfully achieving it. he came over to you with a bright smile and the first words out of his mouth were, "Let's get tacos!"

you didnt argue, i mean who would. a brightly smiling park jimin is offering to eat tacos, now how does one reject such an offer.

so you drive to a local taco restaurant, jimin baking your ear off as to how good their carne asada is(today he was just craving tacos. so he ordered his food, as you did your own. and while you patiently waited, you began starting up conversation.

"so how were your classes?"

a groan left his lips. "excuse my french, but annoying as hell."

you had to hold in your laughter, he didnt even curse when he said to excuse his french. "and why were they annoying?" you took a sip from your drink as he ran a hand through his hair.

"dont get me wrong, i love dancing and singing and performing, but it's too technical! i dont know if it's just at this school or something, but these classes require me to take more notes than to actually exhibit my skill." you nodded, wishing you could say you could relate but obviously couldnt. you were glad as a college student to just take notes and learn a lesson through the day, work, and go to your dorm to just study more. jimin was the complete opposite. he had a drive of passion and you admired him for that. he had something to live, and you didn't know if it was dancing, nonetheless his love for performing amazedly amzed you.

"well, at least you get to perform at shows right? i mean, i can kinda relate with how boring lessons are, especially with the most boring of teachers. but at least you get to show how really talented you are, right?" you said with a weak smile. "hey, if it makes you feel any better...one time i tripped in front of a thousand people at my orientation."

it took less than a second for him to break out into a wide grin, his childish giggle ringing through your ear. "what does that have to do with anything?" he said through his boisterous laughter.

"absolutely nothing. just wanted you to feel better and cheer up a bit," you said with a shrug and light blush. i mean your plan worked, but he now just had potential blackmail on you.

your statement seemed to make his shoulders shake even more. "you're so amusing, noona~ ah, we're lucky to have you."

i'm lucky to have you

the twinkle in his eye made you smile wider, brushing off your embarrassment. "please, i'm lucky to have you guys. you guys are seriously too generous." his eyes turn into crescents, wordlessly nodding his head.

you ate your food in silence, eating quickly to fill your empty stomach. jimin was talking through the lunch period, filling you in on the past of the boys.

"jin, he's a next-to-be heir of his father's company. he is the main source of money that goes to our house, food, and generally everything. he's well put off, to make it simply." jimin stated when you asked about the eldest brother. "we all met in high school though. i was first friends with jungkook and yoongi, so i'm really the closest to them. but i treat all of them like they're my brothers. but soon after we became all really close, we got a lot of un-needed attention. we didn't like it, especially yoongi, jungkook, and i. our anxiety really kicked in during our highschool years. the attention was too much for us and we barely made it through our last year. so jin bought the house we live in now, which is far away from the town, because we didn't want to have anything to do with the townspeople after that."

your mouth formed into a small 'o', taking in all of that information. learning about how they were treated in highscool made you sympathsize with them. naturally, when there are several attractive, young men going to a school, the females (and males) will do anything for their attention. at least, that's what it's like in the TV shows. it all seems glorious, but hearing how much it affected them now was sadening. you could only think of how they were treated.

jimin's plump lips curled into a small smirk, seeing the flash of emotions cross your face. mostly were pity and sympathy, and it was a great feeling for him. you had trusted them and gotten close them so quickly in the few days you had been acquainted. if it continued up, jin's plan would be working perfectly.

'jin isn't the only proficient liar in the house, dear,' jimin thought, happy you had fallen so easily into the trap. however, it was just the beginning and they had to work even harder for you to become even closer.

"yeah, it was relly terrible. i hate to self-pity myself, but those girls there...were really out of hand. they would give obnoxious gifts, throw themselves onto us like we were zoo animals, and the way they acted surely would've disappointed their mothers and fathers." jimin said, a pout on his lips as he worked up tears. his eyes were glossing as he looked at you with a weak smile, "you aren't like that, right noona?"

your heart broke. the look of absolute sadness on his face was enough for you to grasp his hands into yours. "of course not, i wouldn't dare to even act like that. this is my job and no matter what, i will keep myself in check. i wouldn't want you boys to relapse or anything," a kind smile was on your lips, and jimin couldn't help but mimic your expression.

"thank you so much for agreeing to this job, although it might be a bit more than you bargained for," a light chuckle left his mouth as he wiped his eyes of his almost falling tears. you nodded slowly, looking down at your empty plate. you were ready to pack up and leave, considering you already paid for the bill. but when you looked up, you saw that jimin had barely eaten his burrito bowl.

"jimin, aren't you hungry?"

he looked at his plate, smiling nervously. "no, no. i already had a few bites, that's enough to suffience me for the rest of the day."

you recalled back to when you were reading their documents, remembering the eating disorder that was listed among his other diagnoses. a weak smile trailed your lips, picking up a spoon to scoop up some of his burrito bowl. "come on, just a few more bites. and if you don't want anymore, i'm sure the other boys will appreciate this."

so, when your crush of the longest time is holding out a spoon to you, begging you to eat you food, what're you gonna say? no?

"just one more bite," jimin said with a shy smile, his face a bright red. he had never thought he would be this close to you, you were feeding him food! his brain couldn't take it so he simply leaned forward to have a bite of his own food.

"there ya go," you said happily, glad you were able to get the poor man to eat something.

so you took the burrito bowl in a to-go box, driving jimin back since his lunch period was almost up. you had talked at the restaurant longer than you had expected.

"tae should be waiting in the same spot you picked me up at, but if he isn't you can text him." jimin said as he got out of the car. he was leaned down, arm resting on the top of the car so he could talk to you.

"text me when he comes so i know he doesn't keep you waiting or something."

you both chuckled, until you heard a yell directed towards you two. "ya! jimin i'm not always late to things!"

➣kim taehyung

      23 years old. dark brown hair, almost black(LY:TEAR era). a photography major, travels far every now and then when he wants to capture the perfect image. treasures art since it has been apart of his life since he could remember.

jimin rolled his eyes, looking up at the new arriving male, "you usually are though." he argued as taehyung closed in on the car. he was now standing next to jimin with his boxy smile, eyes lingering with his for a moment. that is before he whipped his head to look at you.

"hi noona!" his cheerful tone made you smile and wave in greeting. "okay, jimin scadoodle, you got a class to catch." taehyung circled the car, opening up the passenger's seat and settling in.

jimin was reluctant to leave you alone with the hyper male, but he had no choice considering he did need to catch his class. "alright i'll see you at dis-"

"yeah yeah bye!" taehyung leaned over you lap, pulling your window up for you to shut the older one out. when it was sealed shut, taehyung looks at you excitedly. "what do you have in mind for the next 45 minutes noona?"

taehyung hasn't moved from your lap, cuing a blush to arise on your cheeks. "the park?" your tone was shaking out of nerves and because you were so flustered, then taehyung finally got off of your lap.

"sure i don't mind." he calmed down a bit, playing with his thumbs which laid in his lap. "but, would you mind if we stopped for ice cream?"

the familiar boxy smile was on his face as he waited for your response. you couldn't turn down the energetic boy's request even if you wanted to, it has to be illegal to say no to that face. so you exaggeratedly sighed in defeat, although the smile on your face proved to taehyung that you were in fact okay with getting ice cream. i mean ice cream in the park was an even better idea than the original you had proposed.

so you drove a little down the road and to the small ice cream parlor, where a nice old lady was waiting. she greeted you with a smile, but when she saw taehyung's figure her face turned a bit glum. you didn't miss it, but taehyung didn't catch it as he was too busy looking at the assortments of ice cream.

so you told the lady what you wished to order, she gladly taking it and putting the ice cream you wanted in a cup. taehyung looked up at her and her eyes once again turned a bit glum, face falling at the sight of his face. you ignored it and moved to the cashier, missing the deadly glare that taehyung gave her. if looks could kill she surely would've been dead.

another girl had gotten your order rung up at the cashier, what the other lady was doing you didn't care for. so you simply paid for the ice cream, going back to taehyung who was sitting at the table patiently.

"here is your ice cream taehyung, let's go to the park, yeah?" he nodded, smiling widely.

"we can go to the campus park, it's closer than the other one." taehyung informs and you didn't even bother arguing, the faster you could get back to pick jungkook up would be easier and more convenient anyway. so you drove according to his directions, parking in the open lot.

he eagerly hopped out of the vehicle, practically bouncing over to sit on one of the benches. miraculously, his ice cream was fine with all his erratic movement.

you locked the car door, joining him on the bench. you licked your ice cream and observed the scenery. it was a beautiful little park, a blue pond sitting in the corner of the landscape. trees were blooming, little pink buds at the end of several branches.

"so, noona," he started breaking the silence, "why did you become a maid rather than a translator?"

you thought for a moment, humming slightly in thought. "i mean, i would be happy with either jobs. but my friend was telling me about how her grandma had passed because no one was watching over her, it made me re-think my decision." you spoke the truth to taehyung, a soft smile on your face. "i got really lucky with this job, however. you guys are really too generous."

he shook his head and took a lick of his ice cream, "no, we just know how to treat people correctly. jin and yoongi are the heads of the house, unofficially but they are the most responsible, and they both agree that they both don't like it when people arent treated correctly. or aren't paid the amount they should."

your heart warmed at how sweet the two boys were. they were so considerate and kind, it was really heart warming to know there were people still like that.

"oh, i'm glad that they're equal minded. you all seem equal minded and open." he nodded in agreement to your words, an appreciative smile on his lips. you finished your ice cream and stood up to find a nearby trash can to throw the cup away.

"wait, i have another question, don't go yet," he said hurriedly, like he was afraid you were going to leave him at the park. his hand shot out to your wrist, holding you still.

a short chuckle left your lips, "tae, chill. I'm just going to throw this out."

he stared at you for a moment, "you promise?" the tone of seriousness laced in his voice was a bit alarming but you brushed it off. "yes, tae, i promise." he finally let you go, nodding slowly. as you walked to the nearby trashcan you could feel his eyes trail after you.

so when you joined his side, he clasped his hands with yours. "i'm sorry, just feeling a little stressed right now." he emphasized the word 'stressed' and you nodded. remembering on his file, it said too much stress could lead to an episode of his. you held his hand equally as tight, looking at him with a soft smile.

"i'm not gonna ask wh-"

"i thought you were going to leave me here," he said with a ragged breath, "it's a little thing, but i got worried, sorry. i get worried easily."

you nodded in understanding, waving your hand dismissively, "don't apologize. what were you wanting to ask earlier?" your thumb rubbed against the back of his hand and you didn't know how thankful he was for your touch. his worries were dying down already, positively because of your prescence and touch. if he was at home alone, he would've snapped already. you really were a blessing to have. it was a shame he had to share you.

"have you had any other jobs before this one?"

"yes, i did." you answered openly. "i was offered to be a translator for an american company stationed here. they needed a translator, but the way i was treated there made me quit. besides, that place had shut down a few weeks later, so i guess i got really lucky. after that i applied for a job at the nursing home. occasionally, i had side jobs to care for those with mental disorders and such."

he nodded along, already knowing that information. in fact, he felt he knew it too well. he remembered when jin had conveyed that message to him. he snapped that day when he heard you were being mistreated. he was also the one who wanted you to come and join them instead, encouraging the others to send that letter to you.

"i see, well the job must've sucked anyway." he said, beginning to lighten the mood. "we're happy we have you though. you're not the only grateful one~"

his comments made you smile, forgetting about what you were previously talking about.

"why are you so curious anyway?"

he lifted an eyebrow, pouting a bit, "can't be curious about our sweet little maid." your nose scrunched at the comment, not sure if it was a negative or positive.

"i mean, i guess you're right. curiosity did kill the cat though," you winked playfully, chuckling alongside him.

"however, i am satisfied with those answers." he smirked back, taking a bite out of his cone. as he chewed his phone began to ring. his hands were full however, one of his hands holding his cone, the other holding yours. his grip on your hand tightened a bit, telling you he didn't want to let go.

he nodded, saying it was alright to check his phone. so, hesitantly however, you grabbed his phone and your expression eased when you read the name.

'jungkookie'

"its jungkook."

"oh just answer it," he nods once again, "what does he need now?"

you swiped on the screen if his phone, putting it on speaker so taehyung could talk.

"what do you need kookie?" he spoke casually, biting off another piece of cone.

"i-i need you to come get me, please. i-can't b-breathe."

taehyung was more on guard now, getting up and biting down the last of the ice cream cone. "we gotta go back to the university. quickly." you swallowed harshly, getting up and starting the car. taehyung got in after you, calmly (surprisingly) speaking to jungkook on the other end.

"hey, kook, listen to me. i know it feels suffocating, but listen to me okay," heavy breathing was heard on the other end, "y/n is here, okay? she's here. she is here."

you glanced at taehyung questionably, wondering why it mattered whether or not you were, in fact, here.

"y-y-y/n?" his voice was shaky, hiccupping heard afterwords. "yo-you're there?" a strong wheeze was heard after that. it encouraged you to really race through the streets, no matter how close it was. he needed someone, now.

"yeah, i'm here. where are you jungkook? me and tae are gonna get you, okay? focus for a moment and tell us where you are." your words were rushed and you were afraid he wouldnt be able to comprehend what you were saying.

"eas-east building, floor-r 1, right by econ."

you shut your door, loud enough for a lot of people to stare in confusion. taehyung led you to the building and inside to where jungkook said he was.

you saw the younger boy, knees to his chest, tears streaming down his face, the hand clenching his phone so tightly you swore you almost saw a crack forming.

"kook!" taehyung called out, rushing to kneel by his younger friend's side. "you're okay. i got you, i got you."

➣jeon jeongguk

21 years old. medium dark brown hair(wings/ynwa era). takes singing and dancing seriously, passionate about both activities. has terrible anxiety, but still is able to attract all the girls on campus with his seemingly innocent and boyish look. however, jungkook only has his eyes on one girl.

jungkook shook his head 'no,' pushing past him to stumble to his legs. he got up and ran into your arms, sobbing into your shoulder. his grip was tight around you, like he never wished to let go. softly, you could hear your name being muttered over and over. his body shook, the wetness of his tears soaking through your shirt's fabric.

"hey. it's alright, i'm here. i'm here, it's okay."

his body shook even more violently with his sobs, squeezing you even tighter. "do-don't go, st-stay."

"i'm not going anywhere. hey, breathe in and out with me, okay?" you didn't care about your surroundings and brought you two down to the ground. "look at me, listen to me."

he did as told, staring at you with his red, doe eyes. when you made sure he was paying attention, you took in deep breaths for him to mimic. his eyes stayed on your lips, following after you. although he did have hiccups in between some breaths, he managed to steady himself.

taehyung, slightly jealous, stayed silent. jungkook was wrapped in your arms, head resting in the crook of your neck. you looked at taehyung, nodding to him, saying he should go to his class now before he misses it. he hesitantly leaves, waving bye to you as you try to comfort jungkook more.

from your experience with past patients and by what recently happened, you could assume jungkook had a panic attack. you shuffled both of you over to sit on the couch which was in the corner of the room. students had poured into the building, following their schedule. some paid no mind as others didn't bother hiding their stare. even when his sniffles were gone and the tears were long gone, he was still holding tightly onto you. his arm wrapped around your own, making him look like a lost child.

suddenly, there was a man that walked up to you two. "hey, is mr. jeon doing alright?"

with the way he held himself, his speech, and his clothing, you could only think that he was the dean of their school. "yes, he should be alright, now." he nodded and looked at the cowering jungkook.

"jungkook, you can take the day off if you would like. some students were telling me this episode was worse than the ones before." you turned to jungkook, asking if he would like going home. he nods, pushing himself closer to you.

"if it's alright, jungkookie would like to leave with noona," he says in a quiet voice. the dean nods, holding his hand for you to shake which you do briefly. he leaves the building and you turn to jungkook with a soft smile.

"if you have everything on you now, we can go home." speaking softly, you gently squeeze his hand. ever since he had calmed down, he seemed to be a bit aloof. you weren't going to question it, assuming he was just really coming back and calming down.

so you picked the backpack up for him, guiding the straps to his shoulders and walked hand-in-hand with him to the car. you opened his door for him, reminding him to put his seat belt on before you entered through your side of the car.

"noona," his quiet voice started, "jungkookie is sorry for causing trouble. i-i was just really anxious and ever-rything felt too close." there was a tremble in his tone and you shook your head in objection to his apologies.

"hey, you don't need to apologise, there should be no need for you to apologize for something you couldn't control. and don't even call it trouble, you caused me no trouble," although your eyes were trained on the road, the smile on your lips was directed to him.

jungkook chewed on his lip, watching your soft expression. he felt like there were butterflies in his stomach from the sweet, kind smile on your face. he had only dreamt of seeing it up close and have it directed to him before.

"noona, jungkookie thinks you're sooo pretty! this pretty!" he blurted, stretching his arms wide open, almost hitting you with his palm.

you flinched slightly at the sudden outburst, stopping at the red light and taking your time to inspect him. "jungkook, you alright?"

"jungkookie is okay now! now that noona is here! and she's sharing all of her happiness and smiles, so of course jungkookie okay."

his tone, which was lighter and higher than usual, his words, speaking in third person, his sudden switch in action - he had changed to an alter of his. why had it taken you so long to figure that much out? it said on his file he had DID, why couldn't you piece two aand two together?

you also read that same night when you were researching their own disorders, people switch alters or heads when they might be feeling temendously anxious or they were triggered to. some people with DID find it to be a protecting or shielding mechanism. what exactly happened at school with jungkook today?

"well, jungkookie," you started slowly. he had nodded eagerly, loving the sound of his name falling off of your lips.

"yes noona?" you swear, there were hearts twirling around his head as stars filled his eyes.

"how about i drop you off at home, we can watch some shows, and then we can go pick up the two others together?"

"hmm," he hummed thoughtfully, lower lip jutted out, "jungkookie is a little tired. but maybe if i take a nappy, i can be okay!"

the cheerful and childish response made you smile in relief. who knows maybe it would be better if jungkook stayed home when you went to pick up the boys. so you parked the car in their driveway, bouncing over to open jungkook's door for him.

you unlocked the house door with your own key and the ones inside the house immediately padded over.

"the dean called. said jungkookie had a panic attack and was excused from class. he isn't hurt is he?" you shook your head silently, watching the 3 boys, minus yoongi (he was watching carefully from the sidelines though), was inspecting jungkook, asking him all kinds of questions.

"he isn't hurt," you answered for them, "but he changed alters."

there was a silent pause between everyone, except jungkook who was thumping his foot against the floor. "hyungs! can i take y/n upstairs so we can play with my games?" he had bounced around jin's wheel chair, an excited smile on his face.

"hold on a second bunny, why don't you set up while we talk to y/n here?" the youngest settled for that idea, running up the stairs. when all of them made sure it was clear, they heaved a sigh of relief.

"jungkook in his headspace is usually really in control, so i hope he didn't cause too much trouble for you," jin said with an apologetic smile.

"no he was perfectly fine. it just shocked me a bit, i didn't expect to see jungkook in his little mind space for a while." namjoon leaned over, lowering his voice in safety so jungkook could hear, "it means he trusts you enough to become a little."

the rest of them nodded, agreeing with namjoon. they were about to say something when your phone started vibrating. jimin was calling.

"hello-"

"5th avenue, the corner of that street, right in front of the McDonald's! come quick!!"

it became obvious they needed a ride so you hung up, turning back to the boys.

"he'll be okay with me gone, right?"

they shared a glance before nodding, urging you to get the rest of the boys. so you left, going to the address jimin said in his quick message.

little did you know that while you were gone, jungkook would only get more stubborn and whiney, as the eldest hyungs had to deal with their giant man-baby who had been repeatedly yelling your name after finding out you had left. surprisingly he wasn't crying, just stomping his feet out of frustration.

it didn't matter to jin, the headache he felt was the same from the continuous cry of your name. let's just hope you don't come back home to see how terrible they were at controlling a little jungkook.

YO this chapter literally has double the words than it does with hyung line....I feel bad but i swear i dont have a preference for either line!!

anyway, I apologize for any mistakes and just a side note - its undecided what Jungkook's little age is but I'm gonna range it from 3-5 or smth like that.........(he does have other personalities/ alters - they just haven't been triggered yet 👀)

#yandere bts #yandere kpop #bts #kpop #yandere imagines #bts x reader #yandere x reader #yandere bts x reader #yandere ot7 #yandere bts ot7 #bts ot7 #sickly ff #bts sickly ff #yandere sickly #yandere ff #bts imagines #ot7 x reader #ot7 imagines

[taeguboi]

BTS as... ‘ordinary’ employees

Okay so when I say ‘ordinary’ I mean as in not famous basically. This is more what I just have personally imagined them doing and I think I’ve lost that somewhat ‘realistic’ touch I used to have a few years back when I was more of an avid writer for this blog and could have an idea of their actual personalities, current likes, etc. This is also in no way a reflection of what I think they are and aren’t capable of so please don’t scream at me if your bias has a ‘lower’ role than you might have expected.

Sorry I do like to blabber on before these things, don’t I? 

I hope everybody is staying safe anyways and happy imagining!

BTS as... Masterlist here

RM

Pawn Shop Sales Assistant

learning everything about every thing

if you have an object to sell for cash

he probably knows everything about it

or at least like a lot about it

his career is in early days right now

because it’s a family trade

but he learns from the best

but asks not to be favourited over other staff just because he’s the manager’s son

like you know he wants someone to tell him if they think he didn’t get a good deal for that ring

no special treatment please

sometimes uses a bit of the old charm to get a good deal

many girls like that

some of the guys not so much

especially the boyfriends

whoops

meets his wife there

she’s a fairly regular customer

buying good finds from charity shops

or finding stuff in the house

and taking them to the pawn shop to get by and save up a little

they really click

after like the 11th visit he finally plucks up the courage to ask her out

“so, uh... I clock off soon and I was wondering if....

uh....”

and he gets quite flustered because he really likes her

“... would you like to maybe grab a coffee with me?”

and she sort of teases him to fluster him

“I don’t like coffee”

“Oh erm....”

“Just kidding”

and inside he’s like “don’t DO that to me!”

fast forward a few years and he’s got a kid with her

but anyway back to joon as an employee

has many many friends in and around the industry

just people over the years who he’s needed to contact to double check some stuff about an item

sometimes there’s the odd nutter who comes into the shop

like any shop really let’s be honest

but oddly enough, Namjoon has a calming effect on them

maybe he’s just really patient

maybe he has great negotiating skills

but if someone kicks off at one of his colleagues

it’s resolved in under ten - fifteen minutes

he reasons with people who are shocked to find out that their gold isn’t actually real gold

or negotiates with those who thought they had something worth more

or sometimes just has to outright sass back at the aggressive ones

but most people find him to be an agreeable guy

banter with his dad / manage

rand although he gets on with everyone there

there’s that one colleague that just becomes his best mate

and this mate is also in on the banter

but again, there’s no staff feeling left out or not getting the same treatment

it’s a family business

and anyone that helps them along the way is family too

Jin

Sales Assistant

in a big supermarket

stacking shelves

helps customers that can’t reach the higher shelves

such a gentleman

lovely customer service

some wish they could give him a tip

but he wouldn’t take it most of the time even if it was allowed

he doesn’t need to be paid to show basic kindness

it’s just manners really

but he doesn’t fully realise how much he goes above and beyond

very patient at explaining stuff to people

he’ll repeat directions 10 times if he has to

and he helps the elderly make smarter shopping choices

not that his manager knows that though

because he’s supposed to focus on building up bigger transactions

but what can he say

he’s just a people person

empathy and understanding levels are like 1000/10

a good bean

wish you could be served by him all the time

people purposely queue up at his lane when he’s on tills

because he just provides a friendly smile 

and pleasant conversation

“how was your day?”

and he’s not saying it because he has to

he’s genuinely interested in what everybody has to say

takes forever but becomes a supervisor

some of his workers often mistake his kindness for dumbness

is that a word, ‘dumb...ness’?

but actually he more than knows what he’s doing

cashes up faster than anyone else ever

has solid ideas to help both business and customer

and whilst it’s a bit difficult getting them out there to higher people

they go for it

from ideas about what customers have previously asked for that the store doesn’t - didn’t - have

to community projects courtesy of tokens from shoppers

even a park that gets set up nearby is named after him

he may seem like just a sales guy to an outsider

but really he’s the heart of the local community

Suga

Tech Support

the funniest you could come across

you know, if you were listening in to the way he deals with some

just pay attention and there won’t be any problems

sometimes he’ll have those days where he’s like

*sigh*

“Have you tried turning it off and on again?”

totally not an IT Crowd reference oops

but seriously that can work like half the time

used to work in some dull office

but took his work to his house

he can basically work wherever and whenever he wants now

as long as he’s got a laptop and a connection

that is the one change he made in his life that made him a lot happier

because although some might turn their noses up to a job like this

it suits him down to the bone

and he doesn’t really care to change career paths any time soon

is up to date with all the tech trends

owns one of everything

well most things

he even has like a drawer of many phones

it’s like a museum of the company he works for lmao

has this spare room that he turned into an office

which definitely could be mistaken for a man cave

the ultimate problem solver

in work and in life

like he can get a phone call about a super complex problem 

and he knows what to do just like that

or a mate has a problem with some relationship

and the reply he gives them is just wow

and he’ll have just made their problem sound a lot less stressful or problematic

loves to help people in and out of work

he understands that the people he is helping might be at their worst moment in their work

or it’s an older person desperately wanting to contact family

he doesn’t just solve the technological problems

he calms you at the beginning of the call

he motivates you at the end and wishes you luck

he talks you through the technology in layman’s terms so you can understand what it is you’re doing

and that attitude continues in his social life

he’s the sober friend when you’re crying in the club toilet drunk

he’s the friend that comes knocking on your door because he hasn’t heard from you in a while and he wants to check everything is okay

he will drop you a phone call the day after to see how you’re hanging

or just because

just because he’s an absolute sweetheart

J-Hope

College Tutor

the type that is fairly laid back

but won’t take any shit 

so go through your assignment at your own pace

just don’t take the mickey

like he will understand that you might have some personal shit going on

and he’ll extend a deadline under special circumstances

but don’t push your luck by lying to him

happy to have banter with the students

makes lessons fun

but also productive

actually the most productive class(es) of anyone’s day

he’s just one of those tutors you’d love 

because he’s engaging

and there’s that one other tutor that no one really likes

because this other guy is boring, dull, basically almost jealous of the students and their ambitions

and although Hoseok won’t say a bad word about his colleague

he can teach you more in half an hour than the other guy does in the entire year

and when you pass the unit he won’t even take credit for the significant part he played

really fucking modest

but he really is one of those teachers that builds lives

keeps quite to himself generally though

has just a small group of friends outside of the college

it’s important to him to keep professional and personal life different

just an overall cool guy

very fair

some say a bit boring

but he’s just sensible really

no one from colleges knows he has a wife

some girls swoon over him and speculate he could be single

and usually he’s oblivious to / ignores any flirting

he’s just here to do his job

he’s here to educate

and he’s here to help you

and he’s happy to help you

Jimin

Dance Instructor

yes, it’s a bit of a typical idea, sorry

but come on

dishy dance teacher whilst you try to learn a style of dance

some students may or may not purposely so bits wrong

because they know Jimin can sometimes be quite physical in his teaching

“Okay, no worries, let’s go back to that bit... It goes like...”

and he’s just behind you to guide you

nice

has his own dance school

holds sessions in the local community centre every weekday night

Monday: contemporary

Tuesday: Street Dance

Wednesday: Musical Theatre

Thursday: Tap

Friday: Ballet

the little un’s are in from 4pm - 5pm

preteens 5pm -6pm

teens / young adults 6pm - 7pm

and finally the adults at 8pm

it sounds like hard work

but dance is all Jimin knows

he’s more than used to is

his stamina is so good

and once his business as a teacher gets up and running

he can afford to put on shows 

to showcase all the hard work his students have done

every year, some time in spring

the nearest theatre in town

it’s not as successful as, say, the pantomimes at xmas

but there are plenty of family and friends of the students interested

parents come to watch their kids

adults come to watch their friends

and so on

He has so much faith in everyone

and is proud of every little achievement 

at kid’s tap class he’ll be like “wow Sally! that’s amazing! you did a pick up!”

or “keep it going Amanda, you can do it!” at adult ballet

but it’s not just dance achievements he’s interested about

the things you do in your life matter too

sometimes he can be like a therapist

pulls you aside after class if he doesn’t think you were quite as on it as usual today

“are you okay today? you seemed distracted”

yes by your beautiful presence

just kidding

kinda

and you can just tell him

he’s always there to listen if you need to talk about something that you don’t want to tell friends or family

he’s there for anything really

like maybe a teen is struggling with exams 

and his encouragement really contributes to them pulling through

“you passed maths! I’m so proud! I knew you could do it!”

and there’s always the big squeezy hug that follows

he loves everyone

everyone loves him

no one can say a bad word about him

like seriously, no one can

V

Vintage store owner

Tae always wanted to own a shop

ever since he was a kid

he didn’t quite know what it was that appealed to him

but just the idea of running a store that’s your own

that’s the dream he worked towards

ever since school

weekend jobs

errands for neighbours

he saved every penny

and invested it on the cute little building 

on the block before the high street

Not like a charity shop

well some of the stock is second hand

but that’s because it’s real vintage

actually not just vintage, further back than that

like some of his stock can be referred to as ‘antique’

anything that has history

everything in his little shop has a story

the decorative chandelier that belonged to a middle class family in the early 1900′s

a vase made in Japan that someone brought back from touring the country years ago

velvet upholstery that could have been part of a noble household in Europe

glassware from the 70′s with intricate design

just cool stuff

you could spend hours in his shop

knows a lot about antiques, collectables, etc

blink and you’ll miss if you want something there

if you see it and you love it the first time you go in

you better buy it

because it’ll be gone even by this evening

his knowledge makes him a brilliant sales person

because the way he delivers the information about an object

just makes you want to buy it

so as you can imagine, sales are always good

everyone within a couple miles radius probably has something in their home bought from Tae’s store

Jungkook

Firefighter

because phwoar

lmao sorry

wait, no I’m not

can’t you just imagine it though

the uniform

the muscles

okay sorry not sorry

a true hero 

like sure, all of his colleagues are too, of course

but he goes that little bit extra

takes more risks

he doesn’t let much scare him

passionate about what he does

can mean he gets a bit extra in other aspects of his life

because he knows the dangers of literally anything

like you leave the hairdryer plugged in a few minutes after using it and he’s like

“NOOO!”

*dramatically, almost full takes a leaping dive to get there, unplugs it*

adrenaline rushes

he lives for those

a very can do attitude

feels amazing after rescuing anyone from anything

it could be a cat in a tree, evacuating people in a flood, or a person from a house fire

if he has helped them, it’s all rewarding

just good at everything

the job of course prepared him for lots 

but he’s just like REALLY good at everything

first aid pro

ultimate calming skills

navigation and driving - smooth

excellent judgement

even the science behind it all, he knows more than enough

all that jazz

he often gives lessons to younger people

because it’s important that incidents can be prevented

he’s very popular when he makes appearances in schools

because all the girls fancy him

obvs

some guys too hahaha

and I don’t just mean the ones that are quite sure they might be gay

anyways

pretty close to being a real life super hero

like he has to work at unsociable hours

but everyone in the area knows him

there’s hardly a street he walks down without someone saying hello

and even when they’re experiencing some of the worst possible situations

he just brings smiles to people’s faces 

#bts #bts as things #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fiction #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #rm #bts rm #namjoon #kim namjoon #jin #bts jikook #seokjin #kim seokjin #suga #bts suga #yoongi #min yoongi #jhope #bts jhope #hoseok #jung hoseok #jimin #bts jimin #park jimin #v #bts v