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tanzanite-zircon · 2 years

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The Fractured but Whole: Freedom Pals Unite! Chapter 2: Starting today, you’re a Freedom Pal

I feel the cool mountain air caress my cheek and gently blow my long, brown hair back as Stan and I speed walk along the icy sidewalk. I carefully watch my step as I step over icy puddles and small snow piles, following Stan … err, Toolshed, to the Freedom Pal’s base. Toolshed says that their base is at Token’s house, so we’ll have to cut across the playground to get there, since the other road is blocked for a concert to perform tonight. I suddenly hear an annoyed and yet scared cry ahead of us.

“Who would do such a thing?! It’s just so MEAN!”

(Mr. Marsh?) Toolshed and I turn our speed walk into a jog as we head towards Randy. I see him heavily applying wax to the hood of an orange SUV.

“Dad,” Toolshed calls, “What’s wrong?” Randy slightly jumps at the sound of Toolshed’s voice before dropping his rag and turning towards us.

“Oh Stan, it’s you,” Randy sighs, “Wait, what are you doing with my tools?”

“I’m not Stan right now dad, I’m Toolshed,” he protests, “I need these to help me and the Freedom Pals fight crime.”

“Oh, you’re playing superheroes again. Well, how about you and your little sidekick go on a mission for me” Randy says.

(A mission?)

“Sure dad, how can we help,” Stan replies.

“Someone has been keying your mother’s car at night,” Randy growls, “It’s happening EVERY night. I thought it was just one of you damn kids but, well … Here, come here, take a look at this.” Randy turns on his heels and walks towards his garage and lifts up the garage door. Toolshed looks at me with a mixture of shock and concern. I guess he didn’t know about this. We walk into the Marsh’s garage and up to Randy’s workbench.

“Whoever is scratching the car is also leaving notes,” Randy explains, “I’m just scared it’s a …jilted lover or something.”

“What have they been writing dad,” Toolshed questions.

“ʻYou won’t forget me THAT easy.’ ‘I thought we had something.’ ‘I’ll tell the world about you, bitch,’” Randy lists.

(Dude, this is serious!)

“Listen, I’m sick of having to buff that shit out,” Randy snarls, “Can you boys just catch the guy who’s doing this to your mother’s car? The guy only comes out at night. If you succeed, I’ll follow you guys on Coonstagram. I’m sure your team would want me as a follower- I’m a pretty big deal in this town.” Randy then picks up a polisher buffer and continues his work on the SUV.

(Wait. What the fuck is Coonstagram?)

“Coonstagram is a social network created by Doctor Timothy,” Toolshed explains, “He made it when we were all part of Coon and Friends.”

(Doctor Timothy? … Oh, you must mean Timmy. I didn’t know he was so good with networking.)

“Well, don’t worry about the car creep dad,” Toolshed beams, “Just leave it to Freedom Pals!” We then jog out of the garage and continue our way across the sidewalk. I can’t help but feel myself softly groan after leaving the Marsh’s garage. I thought I would be used to handling Randy’s shit, especially after everything he had me do during the Stick of Truth. I had to face Nazi zombies, government agents, and had to disarm a snuke up Mr. Slave’s ass, but now he’s asking me and his own son to track down some car-keying whack-job who’s most likely insane in the membrane! I guess Toolshed noticed my annoyance.

“Yeah, my dad can drive me up a wall too,” Toolshed sighs, “But, it’s kind of thanks to him that I have my mental control over all power tools … according to my backstory. … You want to hear it? We have a few more minutes before we reach the base.”

I see Toolshed give me a hopeful grin and I see his eyes sparkle with excitement. I guess backstories are a big deal in the superhero world.

(… I can’t say no to that face.) I give him a sweet grin and a quick nod to show him that I’m all ears. I can’t help but feel warmth wash over my heart to see Toolshed light up like a Christmas tree as he begins his origin story.

“Sweet! Well, when I was just a child my father was in the garage, working on a project,” Toolshed laments, “There was a huge storm and lightning blew my father of his workbench. I ran to help him, but at that moment another blast somehow fused his power tools onto my body. I became a superhero, while my father was left mentally impaired. Perhaps Toolshed wants to help his father because he feels he could have saved him all those years ago”

(No offense dude, but I think your dad has always been mentally impaired, or just stupid All of the adults in this quiet mountain town are stupid! It’s not your fault so don’t blame yourself.) I place a comforting hand on Toolshed’s shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. He gently squeezes my hand and offers me a grateful smile as a way to say thank you. I look away from Toolshed to see how much farther we would need to walk, only to find that we are at the gates of Dark Meadows. I jump back in shock to see we already arrived.

(Holy shit! I was so caught up in the drama of his back story that I didn’t notice we already got here! That must’ve been some speed walk!) I hear Toolshed softly chuckle as he walks towards the entrance gate. He quickly looks around before motioning me over.

“Looks like the security guard is off duty,” Toolshed declares, “That’s great for us, since he always tries to keep the riff raff out. He’s been letting me in since he knows me as one of Tupperware’s friends, but he would not be so welcoming to you after you disgraced him last time.”

(Token’s superhero persona is called Tupperware? I wonder what kind of powers Tupperware offers.) Toolshed unhitches the latch on the metal gate, pushes the door open, and re-latches the lock when I step through into the Black’s front yard. We walk along the driveway and cross over to the front door. I watch Toolshed knock three times on the dark brown door and within a few seconds, Mrs. Black answers.

“Oh, hello Stan,” Mrs. Black beams, “Back from patrol I see. The boys are downstairs playing.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Black,” Toolshed replies, “I hope you don’t mind but I invited the new kid to join us.” I give Mrs. Black a friendly smile and casually wave my hand.

“It’s no problem Stan,” Mrs. Black says, “You two have fun.” She turns on her heels and walks into the kitchen. We wipe our feet on the welcome mat and enter the house.

(Man, this house is awesome! I think this is the first time I’ve been inside Token’s house.) I shake off my amazement and follow Toolshed to the basement door. I gaze up at the Freedom Pals logo, an eagle, on the door. I watch Toolshed tap some sort of code into an electronic padlock and then grasp the door handle.

“Let me go in first dude,” Toolshed gently demands, “I’ll butter them up for you.” Toolshed opens the basement door and begins to ascend down the stairs. I wait for Toolshed to be about 5 steps ahead of me before I start to step down myself. I stop after 4 steps, lean against the handrail, and wait for Toolshed to send me in. I hear a deep, slightly raspy voice greet Toolshed. I guess that must be Mysterion from Toolshed’s communicator.

“There you are Toolshed,” I hear Mysterion greet, “Did you find any leads?”

“Sorry guys, I didn’t find any news about the crime syndicate,” Toolshed sighs, “I did receive a mission from my dad. Someone’s been keying my mom’s car at night and been leaving threatening notes.”

“Hey, maybe the guy who’s keying the car is part of a gang or something,” I hear a high pitch voice imply.

(Wait. Isn’t that Tweek’s voice? His voice sure has gotten more confident ever since he and Craig got together.)

“I appreciate the optimism Wonder Tweek,” I hear Mysterion reply, “but I don’t think keying a car can level up to the crimes of smuggling drugs and robberies.”

“At least we have something one of us can do tonight,” I hear a voice with an echoed sound declare, “But if we don’t find a lead or more missions soon, by my calculations, Coon and Friends will get ahead of us for good.”

(That must be Token. It wouldn’t surprise me that Cartman would take the easy route to get ahead.)

“Well, I think I found someone who can even the playing field,” Toolshed beams, “Come on down dude.” I shift of the railing and continue down the stairs. As I turn to descend the final three steps, I see three other members of Freedom Pals.

I can see that Token’s superhero persona, Tupperware, lives up to his name. His body is completely armored with Tupperware parts, complete with a small utility belt and a pair of light gray surgical gloves.

As for Tweek, or should I say Wonder Tweek, I see that he sports a deep blue shirt with the red initials WT, navy-blue slacks, and brown gloves. I also notice a head band, the same color as his shirt, with his superhero name printed on it.

The final hero must be Mysterion, and I must say, he has quite the iconic superhero image. His costume consists of a light purple shirt with a bright green M, light purple pants, a dark purple cloak with a bright green question mark on a spring on the top, a pair of olive green gloves, a black belt and mask, and a pair of brown combat boots. Heck, he even has a pair of underwear on the outside of the pants. The only problem is that I can’t tell which on my friends this guy is at first glance. He almost completely covers his face and his voice is disguised. I slightly squint to try to focus on any feature that can give me a clue on who he is. My eyes finally fall on his eyes. I defiantly know those firm, yet gentle eyes.

(Hold on. … Holy shit! It’s Kenny! Man, I’m used to seeing him as loving and joyful, not like a mini Batman.) I shake off my shock and try to act casual. I offer a friendly smile and wave.

“I think Douchebag would be a great addition to our team, what do you guys think,” Toolshed offers. The three of them exchange glances before turning back to me and Toolshed.

“Toolshed,” Mysterion sighs, “are you sure this is a good idea? Don’t get me wrong, Douchebag is a great fighter, and a great friend, but wasn’t he just playing with Cartman and the others? There are photos of him with them on Coonstagram.”

“They were playing Fighters of Zaron,” Toolshed reveals, “but they kicked the new kid out when they switched to superheroes.”

“Coon and Friends have tried to trick us before,” Tupperware growls, “They could be using the new kid to keep us at bay.”

“Well, what do we do,” Wonder Tweek asks, “Can we trust him or not?” I can’t help but feel ice begin to chill my heart to hear their hesitation to let me in, but I guess it’s not without reason. I did switch sides in our last game.

[I believe I can reveal the truth to this predicament.]

(Huh? Who said that? That voice sounded like my conscious, or something in that sense.) I see a curtain with space themed images separate. A shadowy figure emerges with the sound of slightly squeaky wheels following it. I then remember that Toolshed mentioned Doctor Timothy when we were still at his house.

(The voice must’ve come from Timmy. … Wait, since when can Timmy talk in full sentences? And what’s up with the gentleman tone of voice?) I hear the sound of a curtain being pulled to the side and, sure enough, a curtain with space themed images opens. I hear the sound of slightly squeaky wheels moving and I see a shadowy figure emerge from behind the curtain. As the figure comes into the light, I can definitely see that it’s Timmy, wheelchair and all.

(Wow, Timmy is one sharp dressed man.) He’s dressed in a navy-blue jacket covering a white dress shirt and red tie. He also has a red and black checkered blanked draped across his lap. He wheels himself to the center of the room and places his right index finger on his right temple.

[Hello my friend, it is good to see you.] I jump back in total shock.

(Woah, how did I hear that!? He didn’t even move his lips!)

“Doctor Timothy is a Psychic,” Toolshed whispers, “he has the ability to read minds and temporarily bend reality.”

(Sweet mother of all that’s holy! He can really do that?!)

[Please forgive us for our skepticism new kid. Our franchise war with Coon and Friends has us on edge.]

“Doc,” Mysterion urges, “we don’t mean to come off as bitter, but we can’t be too careful when it comes to Cartman and anything related to him. I’m afraid this includes the new kid.”

[I know Mysterion, but I believe the new kid deserves the benefit of doubt. After all, giving him a chance is what our creed stands for.]

“Of course, Doc,” Mysterion sighs, “Retribution but with Inclusion.”

(Retribution but with Inclusion? That’s some motto.) Doctor Timothy suddenly moves closer to me.

[New kid, if you will permit me, I wish to see your actions from this morning to when you first arrived.]

(You want to read my mind?! … Well, if it will prove that I’m not with Cartman.) I slowly nod my head to let Timmy know he can go ahead. He gives me a gentle smile.

[You may feel a little woozy at first new kid, but let me know if it becomes too much for you.] Doctor Timothy squints and places his right index finger back on his right template. I suddenly feel a slight wave of dizziness take over me. I hold my head as I try to steady myself. Everything goes black for a few seconds. I can’t hear anything. I suddenly see a collection of images appear, images I recognize.

[Welcome to your memories new kid.]

(Timmy?! … Wait, are we able to talk to each other in here?)

[Indeed … my dear.]

(My dear?! Why would you … you can hear my real voice, can’t you?)

[Yes, every thought you make is heard in here. In your real voice.]

(…)

[New kid, why did you make us believe you were a boy?]

(… My parents. As long as I could remember, they forced me to identify as a boy. I don’t really know why, but I always had this nagging feeling that my parents wish I was born a boy.) An image of when I was six appears in from of us. I’m standing outside my parent’s bedroom, my ear pressed against the door. This was the third house we lived in that year. I hear the argument that made me feel like my parents wanted a boy.

“We’re making her feel confused Chris,” my mother screams.

“It’s for her own good Kelly,” my father yells back, “You know damn well why her pretending to be a boy is what’s best for us!”

“Best for us, or best for you,” my mother growls.

“You know what,” my father snarls, “if she was just born a boy and not an emotional girl like you, we wouldn’t have to live on the run!”

“And who’s fault is that Chris,” I hear my mother sneer. The memory stops and moves into the back ground with my other memories.

[My God, I never would have thought … I’m so sorry new kid.]

(My family issues are not your fault Doc. I am sorry I lied to you guys about my gender, but I’ve been doing this for years. … Can we get back to …)

[… Of course, my friend. Now please think back to this morning.] Images of this morning begin to play in front of us. I see everything from me sitting on my royal throne, my parents having their suddenly more common argument over my friendships, slaying the dragon, Cartman revealing the Scrambles poster, me being kicked out because my dad fucked my mom, and finally to when Toolshed freed me from Cartman’s living room.

[I’m sorry I doubted you new kid. It would give me great honor to have you as the newest member of Freedom Pals.]

(You don’t have to offer twice!)

[Excellent! It will be great to work with you again. We are starting to fall into turmoil.]

(Hey, I remember Tupperware mentioning that you need more missions and leads. Before Cartman kicked me out, I got a good look at the poster he had. Here, take a look.) An image of Cartman holding the Scrambles poster approaches us. Timmy looks at the poster for a few seconds. He turns back to me with a grateful grin on his face.

[New kid, you’re amazing. This could be the lead we have been looking for to track down the crime syndicate!]

(… Sally. My name is Sally.)

[Heh, well then Sally, I believe it’s time I introduced our newest member to the team. And I believe you should know how we came to be the Freedom Pals. … Oh, and your secret is safe with me.] Some bright light envelopes my line of sight. When the light dies out from my eyelids, I slowly open my eyes. I see Timmy smile warmly at me.

[The new kid is not with Cartman. I am ready to allow him into Freedom Pals. I trust there are no objections?] I look around the room and I notice Mysterion, Tupperware, and Wonder Tweek exchanging glances. Toolshed is already beaming; he was ready for me to join for a while now. After a few seconds of silence, they all turn to me with approving smiles on their faces.

(Looks like I passed initiation.)

#the fractured but whole #south park #new kid sp #mysterion #tupperware #wonder tweek #toolshed #doctor timothy #fanfic #my writing

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morkleemelon · 3 years

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nct ideal types 2021 :: 127

dream version | the confirmed facts are all from various interviews or fan questions but ‘my thoughts’ may well not be accurate! this is just for fun~ mark and haechan are in the dream version

moon taeil

confirmed: someone cute with a short bob hairstyle

my thoughts:

taeil is a super chill, laid back guy who gets along with more outgoing members like johnny and haechan. this makes me believe he’d want a funny, outgoing partner to balance with his personality

he mentioned cute so this makes me think small or petite. definitely shorter than him.

he said once that he would love to sing to his future girlfriend all the time (she will be so lucky oh my gosh). not to mention he is very passionate about music and dropped out of a prestigious music school to join nct. so he would definitely need someone who likes and appreciates music

he said if he were a girl, he’d date yuta out of all of the 127 members. so perhaps he just thinks yuta is boyfriend material, but maybe taeil is attracted to the strong-minded, caring type

seo johnny

confirmed: someone who smiles at him a lot. similar to girl’s generation’s yoona

my thoughts:

johnny seems to get along with everyone so this is a bit tricky to try to determine. he confirmed he likes yoona so going off of that, she’s obviously gorgeous and has a beautiful smile. her personality is also elegant, but down to earth and funny

he was voted by everyone including himself as the most romantic member. he says that he hopes one day he can build christmas trees with his wife just like he used to do with his mom (I’m so soft). I think he’s looking for someone who likes sappy romance and will flirt back with him

he’s tall. and since he named yoona as his ideal type, I think he’d prefer a taller girl (but not taller than him). then again, I’m not sure if he’d care all too much

he said he would date doyoung if he were a girl so I think that entails someone easily tease-able, neat, and proper

lee taeyong

confirmed: someone who can teach him, lead him, and make up for his flaws. a girl with long hair of any race. laid back. his ideal type is the same as ten’s. someone hard-working has a tough style.

my thoughts:

he’s highkey a weeb (don’t deny this). no matter how charismatic he is on stage, we all know he’s a big softie who likes bugs and frogs and anime. he expressed he had a really hard time coming out of his shell and he’s quite introverted. he needs someone who’s strong-minded and knows what they’re doing

I remember when the rookies just came out in like 2014 and TY was 19 (?) ish and he confirmed that he’d never dated anyone yet. nobody believed him because he was so handsome but I have a feeling he was telling the truth. it’s been several years since then so I’m not sure how things have changed, but I have a feeling he would like someone experienced.

“any race” what a king. looks-wise besides having long hair, I can envision someone with great style. perhaps dyed hair, multiple piercings, tattoos, the works. fashion is something that tae really appreciates

nakamoto yuta

confirmed: a girl with short hair and is around 15 cm shorter than him (so about 160cm aka 5′3″). an empathetic, cute girl who doesn’t ‘act pretty’. someone bright and comfortable

my thoughts:

he has a lot of confirmed facts about looks which are also really specific. maybe he just knows what he wants. but I also thinks he has experience. it seems like he wants a tomboy who has a strong vibe

he likes being the ‘oppa’ and taking care of others like we see him do with winwin, mark, and jungwoo. he’d be into someone who looks up to him and who he can lead

I don’t have a reason but I think he would like someone who laughs a lot and laughs at his jokes (maybe because mark does and he loves mark)

someone who’s not embarrassed to be herself

during oshiete japan they had to pick out of 4 types of roses to gift to their ‘girlfriend’. him and haechan were the only ones who chose to give 3 roses to their ‘girlfriend’. the psychologist analyzed this and said that they’re ‘flirts who seek attention’. so that being said, I think yuta would like someone who gives him a lot of attention and reactions

kim doyoung

confirmed: someone polite and who treats their elders well

my thoughts:

I mean this in all seriousness, someone the exact opposite as haechan. while we can see in rare times that he does care for him, doyoung usually cannot stand haechan and all his tricks and taunting. as his confirmed type outlines, doie is really looking for someone who takes things seriously and listens to him well

I think he often feels underappreciated - a lot of times during his mv viewing reactions, the editors show another member during his part or just cut him out and you can tell he’s really disappointed (it hurts my heart). he would really like someone who goes out of their way to make him feel appreciated.

when nct 127 went on oshiete japan, doyoung was the only one to pick the potted rose and the psychologist there said that it means he isn’t looking to just date around, but rather to settle down and have a stable relationship. I strongly believe that doyoung is looking for someone long-term.

also, his love language is giving gifts (from my observation since he often gifts the members foods during mv shoots and gifted TY the couple ring). my best guess is that he’d want to spoil his partner a lot with gifts to show his feelings. someone who appreciates his gifts and understands that they come from his heart

he thinks ariana grande is hot so that’s the only visual thing I can think of. she’s obviously very gorgeous but she’s petite and has an amazing voice

jung jaehyun

confirmed: a kind woman with long, straight hair who can communicate well with him. someone dependable, healthy, and into sports. someone usually calm but can be cute. doesn’t care if she’s older or younger. someone similar to him. someone like singer/actress IU.

my thoughts:

he has a lot of confirmed facts so I don’t have to make many assumptions here. someone with girl next door energy?

he says he likes IU, so going with that, someone petite and cute. She’s not afraid to speak her mind and treats everyone with kindness.

I think J was born to be romantic (literally, born on valentines day). he said his previous ambition was to be a teen dad and his lines from make a wish english version “spoil her with loyalty” sum up my next prediction: he wants someone like a best friend who’s in it for the long run

dong sicheng

confirmed: someone with long, black hair

my thoughts:

he said his favorite actress is shu qi. although I don’t know if he just likes her acting or if she actually fits his ideal type, she is a traditional chinese beauty which I think winwin appreciates

he’s really introverted and is often overwhelmed by affection (i.e. all of the nct members). the exception is jaehyun and winwin seems to be the most comfortable around him. this makes me think he wants someone calm and chic

sicheng prefers staying inside to going out. not to diagnose him at all, but I reckon he can get socially anxious around large amounts of people. he’d like a partner who doesn’t overwhelm him and understands him

he really can’t cook (he couldn’t turn on a stove to make an egg on winformation). in the end, it wouldn’t matter, but i’m thinking that if you can cook you’d certainly earn some bonus points with him. it’s like that saying ‘the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’.

kim jungwoo

confirmed: n/a

my thoughts:

of all the members, I think jungwoo has expressed the least about his ideal type. not to make any unnecessary assumptions (but that’s all this post is really), but someone said he has strong bi energy. I can’t say anything because I’m not bi myself and I’m not him, but I can see this being a thing. take this with a grain of salt because I don’t actually have evidence

during oshiete japan, he was the only one to pick the large bouquet of roses to give to his ‘lover’. the psychologist analyzed this as him liking to pretend that he is in love and wanting to show his good side. he “can’t express his real feelings and doesn’t want to ever show his lame side to his lover”. because of this, I strongly feel that jungwoo would need someone who lifts his confidence and reassures him

the members he gets along with the most are probably yuta and mark. their personalities are quite different but based on their similarities, I think he is attracted to confidence, open-mindedness, and good work ethic.

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tipsydipsydo · 3 years

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Der Geliebte

Pairing: Jungkook x artist! Reader

Gender of the Reader: female

Word Count: 6.4k

Rating: 16+

AU: non idol! Jungkook x artist! Reader AU!

Genre: strangers to lovers AU; friends to lovers AU! (idiots to lovers AU!); love at the first sight! AU; soulmate to lovers! AU (kinda?); unbelievable amount of fluff; a little angst (fluffy angst!!,); tiny amount of smut (one paragraph xD)

Warnings: tiny bit of smut/some sexual tension between both of them; Jungkook is a poor shy thing and is fucking nervous around the reader all the time; teeth rotting fluff; both are so in love with each other that they’re getting stupid to not realize it; both are insecure that they’re not meant for another... just fluff, fluff, fluff and painfully obvious pining over each other!

A/N: Hallelujah, I finally did it! After I made Sibi @borathae wait over three months for her Christmas + Birthday Fanfic I finished it two weeks to late for my sweetest Darlings Birthday! I am so incredibly sorry that I made you wait for such a long time and really, Sweetie, you have all the rights to be still mad at my stupid ass! Nevertheless... I love you so goddamn much and I hope the fic made at least a little bit up for it... Love you!!!! 💕 💕

Summary: You and Jungkook met right at the first day you opened your own atelier in Seoul after you had to leave your old home behind you. You love paint canvas with landscape motives, other people just roll with their eyes when they hear that you choose such usual, almost boring things to paint. Not so Jungkook, he seems to be different than most of visitors. It’s almost like he can read your feelings through your paintings...

Status: Edited (I am sorry for any still existing errors in here!)

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「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

* Jungkook’s POV *

"In what are you getting yourself into, Jungkook?"

I quietly ask myself as I get rid of my clothes behind the paravent and throw the dressing gown over his body which you laid out for me. My hands are sweaty, they tremble slightly and my heart beats wildly, as if it wants to jump right out of my chest. Excitement spreads throughout my body, leaving a faint feeling in my stomach and a certain blush rises in my cheeks. I still can't believe what I've gotten myself into . But... you looked at me so pleadingly with your dear and downright innocent eyes that I would have done anything for you with that look of yours. I want to make you happy, see that happy and contented smile on your lips, which always makes a whole horde of wild butterflies break out in my belly. 'Normally I was the shyness and silence in person and with you... with her, I feel for the first timesomething like peace and security. Especially when I consider how shy I usually am around women.', I ask myself and I don't really know the answer to that. But what can I do against my feelings? I don't really know, on the one hand they scare me, on the other hand they feel so exciting and new that I don't want to eliminate them at all.

I don't even know exactly when the whole thing started. In which moment my feelings for you grew, when I felt more than just fascination and admiration for you and your artwork. Six months ago, a small studio had opened in my district, your own studio. On the day of the opening I simply went to it of pure curiosity, I had always had such a weakness for art and photography.

I can still remember exactly how I stood in front of one of your works and was literally speechless and overwhelmed by this picture and all his small details. This painting represents a classic image of the countryside, which was often to be found everywhere. But this work was different. So full of small details and ornaments. It was so much more... As a viewer you can see a beautiful clearing, which is surrounded by trees and protected from too many curious eyes. The ground of this clearing is overgrown with dense and lush green grass, which from the incoming sunlight almost invites you to let yourself fall into the grass. It reminds me instantly of my carefree childhood, when I rolled in it without overthinking my actions too much and those times when I playfully wrestled with my best friends around until our clothes had grass stains all everywhere. I could almost smell the scent of wild, untamed nature. The longer I look at the picture, the greater the longing became. Maybe I could visit this beautiful place one day, together with my partner, my significant other. Playing around with each other, chasing your beloved one until you fall into the grass breathless laughing and cuddling. Maybe we could have a picnic there and feed each other with homemade sweets?

I didn’t know that such a "simple" landscape painting could touch and awaken so much more in me, in my soul. Suddenly, such a wanderlust came over me that I gasped for air and a heavy lump formed in my throat. My whole body was tingling and my heart was literally screaming to get away from this dreadfully grey and monotonous daily routine of my boring single life, for at least some weeks. I want to go to this place, where I could draw the warm and fresh, natural air could deep into my lungs and pamper myself with homemade delicacies. Just to let the soul dangle and don’t stuck with my closely clocked work life. Maybe sleep until 10 o'clock in the morning and then maybe have a nice nap later. Enjoy the warm nights and hear the crickets chirping. This longing was... irrepressible. This particular wanderlust for nature, just to be out of the city, this longing for exactly this abandoned and untouched forest clearing literally overwhelmed me. What was it for an artist who could trigger such feelings and emotions in me?

I had been so absorbed in the artwork that I had not even noticed that a person step next to me. "Do you like the work?", asked a soft melodic voice, which spoke perfect Korean, but was pervaded by a light accent, which I could not quite assign. I flinched a little, but this bright, happy laugh gave me a tingling goosebumps all over my body. What a beautiful laugh... I turned to the person who was the owner of this beautiful voice. I was startled when I realized that the artist and owner of this studio was standing in front of me personally. I recognized her again, as I had seen a small photo of her in the newspaper article that drew my attention to this beautiful studio in the first place. Already in this picture she had radiated something so strong, colorful, cheerful and lively, which caused an excited flutter in my stomach.

I admit, I already laid an eye on her just by her appearance. Unfortunately I always had a hard time getting to know people ever since, let alone to talk to women. And now having you, Y/N, personally standing right in front of me, made me feel fluffy and excited in my stomach. Nothing is left of this otherwise so sassy and self-confident man that I used to be. Only a nervous and stodgy twenty-three-year-old idiot, who did not know what to say or wanted to say, now stands in front of this stunningly pretty and intelligent woman.

Her eyes sparkles like jewels, full of joy, struck me with interest and a playful smile lays on her lips. "Did you not understand my question?", she asked kindly, but nobly reserved. Immediately a rosy puff settled on my cheeks and I stuttered nervously: "Y-Yes, excuse me! I... I was just somewhere else with my thoughts and was completely surprised that they were addressing me personally.... Your works are truly unique! They still show such ‘usual’ motifs and yet they are so special because of these finely elaborated details and this passion with which this work of art was painted. They really are... Unique artworks that you do not forget so quickly. Even for untrained eyes as my owns, I can see that a talented artist has worked on it. I am very impressed by your work, especially this work here!" You could hear the honest admiration from my voice and my heart leapt as she reacted bashful to all of my compliments.

"Thank you, really, thank you so much! I really appreciate to hear such nice words like yours, even if it is rare. I am often criticized for my ‘lack of creativity’, caused by my chosen motives. I just love the rough, almost untouched landscapes of my hometown, I try to depict the ‘normal’ as something beautiful, unique. I would like to ‘really see’ what we already take for granted again. As a wonderful creation, a work of art. Nature is a wonderful example of this, or the architecture of buildings as well. Architects are also artists, although unfortunately they are not seen as such. I just want to offer the obvious things a more meaningful space again.... People like you have become rare. I have observed how you have recognized the true meaning, this beauty and aesthetics in such a ‘usual-looking’ motif. And this pleases me so much that you can read 'between the brushstrokes'. Oh... Excuse me, I always talk way too much when someone shows an interest in art or music, my personal passions. Besides that, I have not introduced myself to you yet, I am Y/N! I was obviously so pleased to see your understanding, empathetic look at this work, if you understand what I mean... Anyway... I can guess that you knew my name already, don't you? What about you? May I know your name?", asked you, beautiful artist, with her really stunning smile.

I swallowed nervously, never before had a young lady mixed my emotions so much in me. Even the picture of her in the newspaper article, which I had read out of boredom in one of my lectures, got me so emotionallyconfused. I didn't want to say it in front of my teasing friends, but I had been really excited when I set off this Friday night. And now the creator of these works of art stood before me and seemed to want to have a longer conversation with me. My heart beats to my throat and I got sweaty hands from this nervousness in my poor body. Honestly, as soon as I wasn't surrounded by my clique of friends, I automatically turned into a nervous, slightly abashed blushing and stuttering guy who behave like an inexperienced teenager.

In private life, without my best mates by the side, I am not so confident and daredevil. After all, I always had someone who could cover my back when things get tough, while I am on my own without anyone I know. You could usually only believe and trust, not control. That's probably why I struggled with interpersonal relationships. I always overthink too much and have some struggles with my self-confidence.

And now this attractive young woman looked at me with such interest and joy, just me. I was actually the reason for her interest. A joyful and blissful tingling seized every pore, every fiber of my body. Yes, in fact it was just me! Not my best buddy Seokjin, whom I have known since childhood and always sought the attention of everyone. It was no exaggeration to say that he was perhaps a little narcissistic, but only to cover up his own insecurities. Never would I have thought that someone would manage to get this personification of self-love under control. I admired his wife for standing up to Seokjin and keeping him and his dad Jokes at bay. Believe it or not, she of all people had the pants on in the house and knew how to deal with my best friend.

My gaze glided over the figure of the person in front of me and once again I took a sharp breath. I was so nervous to face her personally, a person I already deeply admired and had quite a respect for. I simply did not want to do anything wrong, even if this charm of hers was almost tangible and paralyzed my entire brain with its function. I can already picture how my mind waved wildly goodbye to myself and went to the summer holiday in the Caribbean.

This carefree smile and these beautiful eyes harmonized wonderfully with your complexion. Your features were awake and alive, seemingly always a slight smile surrounded the corners of your mouth, which provoked almost paradoxical reactions in my body. Your smile awake countless butterflies to flutter around in my stomach, which made me quite nervous and at the same time you radiated such a sense of security and calm, as if there was no reason not to get a word out of shyness. My gaze, which I hope examined you unobtrusively enough, wandered to your hands. You had long fingers, I could really imagine how they elegantly held the handle of the paint brushes and worked on these small details extensively in such a calm behavior. Which satisfied and concentrated calmness you possibly radiated while doing that...

A small, noble clearing of your throat again tore me out of my fantasies and speculations. God, what was I today but inattentive! How rude I must have seemed to you...

"Oh, sorry... I... I have not been able to keep my thoughts together all day..." I lied to seem at least a little more credible. Nervously, I pulled on the knot of my tie to loosen it up a little before I have a circulatory collapse. Before I went here, I thought for a long time about what I should wear for this occasion. Jeans and T-shirt were out of the question, too casual and almost an insult for your atelier. A complete suit, however, seemed too overdressed to me and so I decided for a black dress pants and a dark blue dress shirt.Understanding, Y/N nodded and gave me a cheering smile, which made my body tingle again. This woman drove me half crazy alone with his friendly gestures. How could it be that this polite lady got me confused right away?!

And somehow, it gave me a frenzy to leave my secure, anonymous side as a visitor to her exhibition and irrevocably reveal my true identity to you.

"My name is Jeon Jungkook."I answered in a slightly trembling voice, hardly daring to look into her eyes and rubbing my neck unobtrusively.

* Jungkook’s POV *

If only I had guessed what would change in me, how you changed me. That so much more would develop from a pure interest and a simple formal business contact... that you want to make me one of your artworks.

I take another deep breath before I dare to step out from behind the dark red paravent. It is pleasantly warm in this room, I should not freeze, if I am already so freely clothed. My gaze wanders through the small room with the huge, floor-to-ceiling window, which floods the entire room with light. The walls of the room have been painted in a dark orange and red colors and dark wooden planks lay out on the floor. It looks so comfortable due to the warm, dark tones. The orange-yellow evening sun dipped everything into something so cozy... sensual. Somehow into even a little erotic?

Y/N wants to work a lot with the light of the evening sun in this painting, which could be a little complicated if it is not suitable or if it is cloud-covered. But if you have put something into your head, especially in relation to your art, then you do everything you can do to go through it! Also the changing forces of nature cannot stop you from trying to realize your idea. Sometimes, you’re someone who is quickly frustrated and dissatisfied with yourself as well, especially when something doesn't work as you wants it to. Nevertheless when it comes to your passion, drawing and painting, you don’t let your idea go away, if you want something, you’ll find a way to make it happen. These are qualities that I know all too well of myself and thus my fascination about you only grows even more. The more time we spent together and I get to know more and more sides of you, the more attracted I became to you.

Your art means a lot to you and you’re quite tough in this respect, can not be overcome by the reproaches and the crushing criticism. That’s exactly what I admire so much about you, having the courage to stand up for personal passion. When I get criticized, all too often I think about really giving up on it, so that I don't have to endure all this criticism anymore. And then I look at you. How focused you are in this moment and carefully prepare for your next project. How you adjusts you easel to the right height, let your self-stretched canvas snap into place, spreads brushes of all sizes and shapes on the small side table next to you and prepares youracrylic colours. I swallow again, as I watched this happen. I am about to become one of your next artworks.

A little uncertainly I walk towards Y/N, the thin dressing gown tightly drawn around my body... never before have I felt so naked and vulnerable. This here is something else. I feel something about it... I feel something for you. For this pretty lady, who sprays her cheerfulness around her and could conjure a smile on the lips of even the most grumpy person. This joy almost kills you, completely engrossed this person and gives you the feeling of floating. You will get the feeling of being welcome at Y/N. To be accepted, with all the flaws and weaknesses that one has. She just smiles at you so gently and lovingly and just says, it's okay. It's okay to be the way you are. Imperfect.

"It is precisely this imperfect, this contradictory and also unpredictable thing that makes us human. That makes us an individual and also interesting. If we were really all as we are expected to be, it would be boring and monotonous. The surprise is only a real gift. Each of us is a very individual gift to a very specific addressee, who is the only one who can truly appreciate this gift. Only then did the recipient find the right person as his gift... Well, if the recipient knows about his gift...", Y/N once said with such a certain look at me, when we went out to dinner together in a restaurant in the evening to clarify some details. I wanted to help her find good contacts in Seoul and help her sell her works.

I can still remember it exactly... it was a quite... extraordinary evening. I was of course once again incredibly nervous and excited. At that time, I did not want to fully realize how much I already like you. Secretly, I had observed my opposite. Your positive and friendly disposition had turned my head all around... and in addition, this beautiful body and her elegant fingers, which already haunt me in the most erotic way unintentionally in my dreams.

I could not prevent my dream pictures from shooting through my head, which is why my cheeks turned dark red in embarrassment. These fucking fantasies in my head! My eyes stare at the cutlery as if it were incredibly interesting because I didn't dare look up. There were scenes in my mind that made my ears turn red and I would’ve loved to hide behind the menu card. Your body, which made her look like a Greek goddess.

Naked, body covered in sweat, your body shook in lust, you sit up with a wonderful moan... You are on top of me, I could admire your beautiful, almost divine body as you sat on top of me... and rode me. This breathtakingly beautiful distorted face of yours, as if all this pleasure you feel is carved in marble... lids closed, your lips, swollen from all the kissing, are slightly opened which let your lustful whimpering escape. This grace and elegance, as you rose from me and then lowered yourself again... as your hands glide erratically over my stomach, searching for support... you suddenly threw your head back and clenched even more tightly around my length. The addicting sounds you’ve made... it’s like the most beautiful melody in my ears... squelching noises and even more of yourjuices gushing out of your sweet, so sweet pussy when you came...

An all-too-familiar laugh tore me out of my extremely indecent thoughts, which quite relieved me at first. Until I raised my head and not too far away I recognized no one but my best friend Kim Seokjin, who made very questionable hand signals in my direction. Oh my God, no! I knew that he had recently changed his job and got accepted for a position as a chef in a new restaurant... but not in this Restaurant! He will never let me life after he found out I was on a “Date” with a woman...

Even though Seokjin was on the other side of the restaurant, I could almost feel his smirk on my own skin. Fuck it, just pretend as if you do not know each other and hit him really hard tomorrow morning in the gym where we meet up for our work out. I quickly turned all my attention back to the person sitting opposite me and tried to ignore Seokjin as best I could.

It was only at the end of the evening, when I had said goodbye to Y/N, that I realized that this meeting had much more of a date than a "business dinner". How familiar we had talked with each other... how much I had thought about licking Y/N the drop from the chocolate sauce of her lava cake from her lips... how it would be... to kiss and touch you...

A noticeable blush has settled on my cheeks as I attended our first meeting together... or even Date in this Restaurant thought back. Four months had passed since then and I suffered from longing for you. You would never see me like I saw you. The reason you wanted to draw me was simply that she needed someone as a model. In addition to landscapes and cities, you want to devote herself gradually to more other motifs. And since I have been the first inquired. Your pleading eyes made me say yes. But I know that for me you have no more than the feelings for a casual friendship. It hurts to see how you flirt around so casually with all those other people. I would never be the gift for you as you are for me. If only the recipient would notice that there is a given heart laying in your hands...

"Ah, Jungkook! I’m glad that you're ready!", your cheerful and melodic voice cuts through the silence of the room and you’re walking towards me with excited shining eyes. "Come~," you say and lead me to the chaiselongue, which is placed in front of the large window. The soft, orange light of the evening sun falls on the wine-red fabric of the restored chaiselounge in baroque style. The upholstery has frames covered in gold and also the lion feet on which this historic furniture stands are gilded. Everything was decorated with so many Details, it looks so incredibly elegant and luxurious. On the left side there are some cushions in the same color and an elegant design is carved on the backrest, literally inviting to get used.

"Surely you know the movie 'Titanic', right? Do you remember the scene where Jack used charcoal pencils to draw an nude coal picture of Rose as she laid on the sofa? I would like to draw you in a similar position. I hope it's okay for you if I look at you more closely without a dressing gown... i want to get an overview of your body proportions.", you say, looking me straight in the eye. I notice that you’re very concerned about my privacy and does not want to overstep any of my personal boundaries without my consent. I nod slightly at first until I get a clear yes over my lips. She looks at me silently for a few seconds before reassuring me once again that we can always stop at any time if I feel uncomfortable. Especially your patience and mindfulness of my boundaries shows me how important it is for you as well and how I actually relax noticeably. Y/N smiles cheerfully at me and I slowly loosen the belt of the dressing gown and let the last garment slide to the ground. I feel her in-depth look at me... he is not uncomfortable... only... exciting... in a few different ways.

I swallow again and lie down on the chaiselongue as instructed. You correct my arm and leg position, also rearrange all of the cushions correctly. To my own relief, you put a red cloth over my crotch area. Not that I am ashamed of anything, I am more than comfortable with you already... I just have some worries that I will get a visible problem if I constantly feel your look on my bare skin.

"It should be able to guess something, but not be allowed to see everything right away...", she whispered with a smile, before her fingertips unintentionally glide tenderly through my happy trail. One of your last smiles are... not really to interpret. Then you return to your easel.

* The Reader’s POV *

Carefully you sit down on your old painting stool, already quite worn out on the edges and stained with the most different types and tones of colors. It had originally been dark brown. You smile dreamily when you think back that you’re used to dangle your legs around when you were a little kid because it was way too big for you back then. For eighteen years now you have exactly this stool and this easel. They had been a gift from your grandfather for your fifth birthday. He had awakened the passion of painting and drawing in you and passed his talent on to you. A certain melancholy seized you when I thought back to how you used to paint your first real picture on canvas with your new easel in the old music room in your grandfather's country house.

It had been the old, dusty grand piano, which must have been more than a hundred years old at that time. How the country house survived all these wars unscathed, you ask yourself to this day. Perhaps there had already been something magical about it at that time, which should remain untouched. Perhaps the small estate should remain an inconspicuous symbol of hope, the hope that at some point the sun and peace will return when the unbearable suffering and sorrow of this cruel time is over. When the wars were over and all those seeking protection who had fled to this country house were able to return to their own homes again. This house, this estate you can explain your childhood with a single word. Home.

You lift your thought-lost look from your empty, folded hands and look to Jungkook. He takes your breath away every time you see him. He is so special, such a wonderful and yet you firmly believe that he has not been chosen for you, such an ordinary woman as you are. He would belong to someone else with whom he would be happy, although he is the only one who was able to understand and read your works, the language in them. It... it had been such a beautiful moment when, six months ago, he stood in your newly opened studio, so absorbed by the painting of the forest of your childhood. All the other visitors had only looked at it briefly and smiled wearily at the fact that it was again only a landscape painting, but did not grasp what the story behind this work was. Why the artist chosed this very motif, to see, to feel what the creator wanted to communicate through the work.

But Jungkook had been different. He had given the work, your personal heart, a chance to unravel the true meaning behind it. He did it slowly, bit by bit with his eyes... grasped with his whole mind and heart and finally let himself be influenced as a whole. You could tell from his body reactions that he felt exactly what you had felt when you painted it last summer. Longing. Infinite Longing. Mixed together with melancholy, a little homesickness and sorrow to a unique emotional color. The day you painted it was the last time you saw the house in your official possession. Your grandfather had left it to you. But unfortunately you lacked money, you had to pay some debts and with the best will you could not earn the money in other ways. So you had to sell it with a heavy heart. Your beloved birth and childhood home and the associated lands, you had to sell your true home away. The picture is the only thing left of it. And Jungkook was the only person who understood what you wanted to express with the painting. Longing. My Homesickness.

When all these sensations came upon him, he involuntarily clenched his hands tightly, his chest lifted and lowered quickly, his Adam's apple hopped repeatedly. His eyes were glassy. He experienced your longing as directly as you did. He... is so special. So infinitely amiable. He... he is the only person who’s able to read your true feelings in your works. He is able to read between your brush strokes.

So today you will try him... to paint a confession of love with this act. Maybe he could read... what you feel for him. Even if you know that you will probably never see him again. Because you would not be the recipient of his love and affection. He's just too... too... gifted for a simple artist like you. He would never be your gifted person.

Your gaze glides tenderly and caressingly over his body. Trying to absorb every little detail of his body, his charisma and his character into you and let it flow into the painting. Every birthmark you want to put on the canvas and hold on. You want to show Jungkook how beautiful he is. How godlike he lies before you on this majestic chaiselongue, how masculine and muscular he is, as if he wanted to embody an Adonis. You want to paint every muscle, even the smallest visible muscle, on the canvas in a realistic manner, you want to capture the strength and security that he conveys to you over and over again and make it visible to him. And yet... his gaze often corresponds to that of an intimidated, insecure fawn, which does not dare to want to get up on his legs on his own. The fear of falling again is too big. Through this painting you want to show Jungkook what he really is, what he represents for you and what you feel for him. He is... so contradictory. He is strong, godlike, powerful... and at the same time, so infinitely uncertain, vulnerable... almost pure.

Silence enters your little studio, only the regular breathing of the other and the muffled noise of the busy world outside the door could be heard. Here... here, it feels like time is standing still for a moment for the two of you. Your shared eternity had begun.

To your happiness that it is summer right now and it stays bright for a long time. Today you take more time than usual to mix colors. You want to mix a shade that perfectly matches his skin tone. You want to get the exact color of his black hair down onto the canvas, and the perfect brown for his beautiful eyes. The evening sun and the leaves of the huge treetops in front of the large window conjure up the most beautiful patterns on his immaculate body. A game of light and shadow. It seems to you that Jungkook's body, every single pore of his body has a tiny diamond, so that he begins to sparkle in the sunlight like an infinitely precious jewel. The evening sun warms him, lays a thin layer of sweat over his body. Every detail you try to bring to the canvas, every feeling, every movement of my heart, everything you feel for him, you want to bring to this canvas. You want to make him a masterpiece. Because for you, he is the most beautiful specimen, the only true crown of the human creation.

Some black strands have come loose from his manbun and have fallen on his forehead. It looks stunning, to see him like that. I had never seen him with a messy or even completely open hair... but even now these strands loosened from the braid make his facial features look so much softer and more relaxed. In it, the adult and strong man united with a young, vulnerable, shy boy. The result is... infinitely beautiful. He possesses both sides, so he makes the seemingly inexhaustible divine human being.

His eyes, drawing his eyes with that expression in them, cost you a lot of nerves. Too often you misunderstood this infinite longing that you find in his dark, brown eyes. Again and again you have to restrain yourself, not just to get up, to go over to him... and to kiss him.

This longing look you misinterpret is as longing as you own... according to your closeness, your touch, your affection... according to your love. Because you love him. You love everything about him, his sheepish laugh, the way of rubbing his neck shyly, the way he speaks and explains his point of views about things, how he smells... just everything... every blemish he blames on himself, you think it’s like an artwork on him. He is so perfectly imperfect that you just fell in love with him.

The sun has already set and only the last pink and purple streaks could be seen in the sky, with which the past day says goodbye to the world. One last time you can hear the velvety stroke of the brush over the canvas before you finally put the brush aside. It is finished. You have given everything that is in your power, used all of your artistic abilities and knowledge to the utmost and you have incorporated everything that you feel and think about into this artwork. And what you see put a smile on your lips, but also makes your pulse rise. What will Jungkook say when he looks at it? He will see it... can he read what you feel for him in it?

With a trembling voice, you call Jungkook and look at him one last time. The last time the sight of this male beauty was granted to you. One last time.

After Jungkook has wrapped himself in the dressing gown again, he slowly comes towards you and your easel. Your heart is throbbing as if it really wants to fearfully flight and jump out of your chest. Your body gets hot and cold at the same time and suddenly your hands get sweaty, the dried color on your skin mixes with the sweat to a uncomfortable mess in your palms, which somehow makes you even more nervous. Then he stands next to you. Looking at the canvas for the first time himself. The last brushstroke is still drying.

Once again there is silence, which makes you incredibly nervous and with every second that passes, you want to follow your instinct to escape. Jungkook's pupils are dilated and blown out, whether with bewilderment or horror, you can not recognize. One of his hands shoots up his mouth, he trembles all over his body. Suddenly you hear a suppressed, throaty sobbing. Surprised and a little appalled, you look at Jungkook, who has shut his eyes tightly and presses the palm of his hand even harder on his mouth, as if he wants to muffle every sound. Tears escape the corners of his eyes. This is a reaction... which you would not have expected...

Gently, mindful of any kind of resistance, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't sob, he doesn't whimper. He just cries. Tenderly, consolingly you hold him, without wanting to distress him. He literally presses his face into the crook of your neck. Salty tears drench your blouse, but it doesn't bother you. The reason why he had such an emotional outburst, you just don't understand. But still... it's okay. It is valid.

As he slowly calms down and his breathes becomes regularly again, he carefully lifts his head out of the crook of your neck and wipes the last tears out of his eyes dry in slight embarrassment. He slowly releases himself from your embrace until you finally stand silently in front of each other.

"What title you’ll give this artwork?", he asks softly, in a rough, throaty voice. You swallow . "It shall be called 'Der Geliebte'. ...it is german and translated it means... ‘The beloved’ ", you say barely audibly and lower your head. After this confession, you can no longer look him in the eyes.

Jungkook takes a sharp breath in and you're actually just waiting for a devastating response from him that would be like a death threat. But nothing of this happened. Instead, your chin is suddenly raised by his fingertips and you look into Jungkook's beautiful eyes. He bites his lower lip a little uncertainly,his own gaze falls on your pretty shaped lips.

"Do you... do you allow me to kiss you?", he asks quietly... barely audible for you even though you’re standing so close to each other. He doesn't dare to look you into the eyes after such a question, he is too afraid that you deny his request. But you can hardly believe your luck, a high pitched ‘yes!’ flew over your lips and before you can control yourself, you press your own lips right onto his. They are incredibly soft and kiss you back in such a delightfully and endearing insecure and shy manner as no other could ever have done it.

Your heart beats full of joy and bliss and in your belly, the butterflies fly somersaults of all different kinds that your whole body began to tingle. Your mind cannot get a grasp of all this yet, but this... you don't need any more of it at this moment anyway.

The kiss is tender, shy and somewhat uncertain from both sides. Jungkook is very insecure and shy, but before he can escape like a frightened deer again, you put your arms around his neck and let your hands rest in the nape of his scalp. Again and again you detach yourselves from each other only for the fraction of a second to get a breath of air into your lungs in order to find each other lips again... until you stopped for a few seconds.

"I like you... I like you really, really much, Jungkook... I even dare to say that I fell on love with you.", you mutter softly against his lips. His shy, happy smile was too much for you, so you immediately kiss him again. Perhaps because of the sheer joy and maybe of the certainty that he feels the same for you, the next kiss turns into something more passionate than before...

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yoonsshadow · 3 years

Text

BLIZZARD BLUES ⎯ myg

⇰ summary ; There’s a storm coming. Literally. And some idiot is standing outside singing Christmas carols.

⇰ pairing ; yoongi x fem!reader

⇰ genres ; strangers to friends to lovers[?], snowstorm!au, romance, fast burn [?]

⇰ themes ; fluff, a bit of crack

⇰ warnings ; talk of a natural disaster [blizzard], lots of banter, brief talk of male genitalia [balls lol], a bunch of sweetness

⇰ word count ; 1.8k

⇰ note ; Happy holidays everybody!! I hope that you all have a safe and happy day, no matter what you are celebrating. [Also this is largely unedited.] xx

It doesn’t always snow on Christmas Eve. Sometimes, when the sky feels selfish, it will open its clouds and welcome through the sunlight, especially harsh against the previous snowfall that is melting on the ground. What was once a white wonderland, snowflakes clustered together in a fine powder, becomes a muddy expanse of grass, dampened by the flowing tears of the melted icicles.

The magic of Christmas, so often associated with the pure white sheen of snowfall, is gone within hours of a clear sky.

But not today.

Today, the sky is selfish in a very distinctly opposite way.

“Temperatures will be reaching a record-low tonight, and snowfall is expected to only get heavier. With the possibility of a blizzard on the way, citizens are urged to stay indoors tonight.”

“Aish.” Licking droplets of mulled wine from your lips, you sigh at the latest news update. Just yesterday, you had been complaining of the warmth in the air, expecting yet another disappointment out of Christmas Eve. The universe seems to have answered your pessimism with a natural disaster.

Thankfully, you are one of the many lucky ones with a roof over your head tonight. The townhouse is small by standard means, but it feels so big to you. Though it may be cosy, it holds everything that is important to you, every memory that you have collected over your life, every momentum that has ever brought you joy. It is an extension of yourself, of your innermost being, and now it even protects you from the howling wind that you can hear picking up outside.

As you sit in front of your roaring fireplace, wrapped in blankets and listening to the Michael Bublé christmas album play on your scratchy record player, you think that maybe this is serenity; this feeling of calm, of contentment, when chaos surrounds you.

A harsh knock at your front door breaks through the sound of the wind.

At first, you think that maybe it was a trick of the mind, or perhaps a branch hitting a window, but the rapid knock-knock-knock against the wood is far too deliberate to be a mistake. Plus, when it’s followed by several more⎯⎯less patient⎯⎯knocks, you know that someone is here. At your house. At ten o’clock at night, as a blizzard is brewing.

It takes a moment to detangle yourself from your comfortable cocoon of blankets, but you eventually shuffle to the door as quickly as your cold toes [the things just never seem to be warm] will allow. You’re expecting an emergency official telling you to evacuate, or a neighbour asking to borrow supplies.

You don’t expect a shivering, disgruntled man reluctantly singing ‘Oh Christmas Tree’.

“Your boughs so green in summertime...stay bravely green in wintertime...O tannenbaum, O Christmas Tree...How lovely are thy branches…”

“Are you seriously carolling right now?”

The man stops his ‘singing’ to glare at you, as if you’ve just interrupted the most important performance of his life. “Hey, either let me finish the song or let me move on. It’s fucking cold out here.”

“No, but like, why are you singing at all? Didn’t you see the news?” The chill of the wind is biting at you even through all of your layers, so you don’t know how he’s surviving right now.

The man sighs, the air fogging in front of his face. “Look, lady, I lost a bet, okay? I gotta sing these carols, and I’m not backing out just because it feels like my internal organs are shutting down. So, what’ll it be? I can take song requests, if you’re feeling spicy.”

It takes you barely a moment to make your decision. “Option C. Come here.”

And you all but drag him into your house.

“Y’know, this could be considered kidnapping,” the stranger says as he slides out of his soaked jacket and toes off his boots. Despite his words, he doesn’t seem at all reluctant to be within your warm abode. “You could at least take me to dinner before inviting me in.’

His voice sounds harsh, mean even, but for some reason you aren’t intimidated by him. Maybe it’s the way his nose shines pink from the cold.

“Well,” you say, already gathering some towels for him, “it seems as though you haven’t watched the news in the last three hours. There’s a blizzard on the way, buddy, and you looked about halfway to frozen already. I thought that I would save the neighbours the trauma of digging your body out of the snow.”

“How considerate.”

“What’s your name, by the way? Since I’m extending my home and hospitality to you. I’m Y/N.”

“Yoongi. Also, you barely extended anything. More like forced. But, I’m a kind man, so I’ll let you believe that you’re being selfless. It is Christmas, after all.”

“And a merry Christmas to you too, mister Yoongi.”

“Ugh. Don’t call me mister.”

“Whatever. You should go take a shower to warm up, I should have some of my dad’s clothes for you to wear. I also have a shit-tonne of blankets and a big pot of mulled wine, so whenever you’re done just come downstairs and sit by the fire. And don’t steal anything. Or piss on the carpets.”

“Oddly specific, but okay. Thanks, generous kidnapper.”

Yoongi takes nearly an hour before he re-emerges from upstairs, to the point where you wonder if he’s actually pissing in your carpets. He looks clean, though, and flushed with warmth. And absolutely adorable in the ugly, oversized Christmas sweater that you laid out for him.

“This is fucking horrendous.”

A snort escapes you at his blunt statement, watching as he sinks into an armchair opposite you. His hair is sticking out from where he’s hastily dried it. “Thank you. My dad is the reigning champion in his workplace ugly sweater competition. He takes immense pride in inducing nausea. Want some wine?”

“Absolutely.”

When you pass him a mug, the liquid steaming and aromatic, he seems to pause, hesitation in the grip of his fingers. You give him the time he needs to arrange his words.

“I guess, um...thank you. For bringing me inside.” Yoongi isn’t meeting your eyes, but the tips of his ears are turning pink. “I was probably too stubborn to realise how bad it was and...I don’t know, it could’ve ended up really bad. So. Thanks.”

“Hey.” His eyes flicker up, briefly, but enough to see the bashfulness hiding behind all that sarcasm. “It’s seriously fine, but you’ve got to make a habit out of taking care of yourself. I’ve known you for two hours and even I can tell that you don’t take yourself very seriously. Hell, I could’ve been a serial killer, and you still just walked into my house.”

“I could’ve been a serial killer as well, hypocrite.”

“Killer Caroller does have a certain ring to it,” you admit. He’s deflecting, but you accept the divergence easily. “So, mister serial killer-”

“Don’t call me mister.”

“-Why don’t you tell me about yourself? There’s a chance that you’ll be here for a little while, so we may as well become acquainted.”

Taking a lingering sip from his mug, Yoongi keeps his eyes trained on the fire before him. “My name is Yoongi, I’m a Pisces, and I enjoy long walks on the beach.”

“Romantic.”

“I was born in Daegu.”

“Makes sense.”

“I’m a music producer.”

“Impressive.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, though they hold more mirth than annoyance. “Oh, and what about you, miss charity? Tell me about yourself.”

Biting back a chuckle, you reposition yourself in the armchair to face him better. “Well, my name is Y/N, and I have never been to a beach.”

“That’s sad.”

“I take self-defense classes.”

“Convenient.”

“And I’m a social worker.”

“Very fitting.”

The quick banter between the two of you pulls a smile across your face before you can tamp it down, but it seems like Yoongi is fighting one of his own.

Somehow, you have both converged to your larger couch, huddled together in a wine-drunk, giggly mess.

“No, I seriously would’ve won! But then he totally caught me off guard. I was sabotaged.”

Yoongi’s recounting of the story of how he lost his bet is nothing short of hysterical. “This Jeongguk guy sounds like a menace,” you say, throwing your legs over his lap. “I mean, who swings their balls in a friend’s face just to distract them? That’s just low.”

“Right?!” His voice is so loud, but your little bubble is barely disturbed. “And they were all hairy, too. I swear that I found a pube in my hoodie.”

This sets you off, for some reason, and your chest erupts in light giggles. Yoongi has only told you a few stories about his six male friends, and it has filled you with a kind of joy that you don’t remember ever feeling.

“It’s just...I bet that women aren’t this immature with each other. Am I right?”

You hum. “Sort of, but also not really. A friend of mine once stole my diva cup just because she was mad at me for using her hair brush. I tried to explain that it was an accident, but man was she pissed.”

Yoongi pauses. “What’s a diva cup?”

Blinking at the man that you’re draped across, you bring a hand up to pat his soft cheek. “Oh, honey,” you whisper, offering a small smile.

Slowly but suddenly, his hand comes up to cover yours, keeping it on his face. Your heart skips a beat, but you don’t notice.

“You’re really nice,” he says. His pupils are blown from drinking, and maybe from your faces being so close. Your cheeks are flushed for the same reasons. “And totally not a serial killer.”

“I’m still undecided about you,” you joke, breathing out a laugh. “But I do know that you’re pretty nice, too. And not as bad of a guest as I thought you might be.”

“Is it-” Yoongi cuts himself off, takes a slow breath as he closes his eyes. When he opens them again, he seems determined, if a little nervous. “Is it weird if I say that I enjoy spending time with you? And would, maybe, want to spend more time with you in the future?”

A lazy grin stretches your cheeks as you tuck yourself a little closer to him. It’s peculiar, maybe, that you’ve just met a man that you feel you’ve known your whole life. Curious, perhaps, that conversation with him feels more natural than with most people you know.

But weird?

No, you don’t think so.

“No. Not weird.” You lean forward a bit, shyly; wait for him to maybe do the same. “You do owe me the rest of a Christmas carol, after all.

He does lean forward, just a bit, and just as shy.

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a-singleboat · 4 years

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Green-Eyed Valentine

Word Count: 1.7k

Request: Hey! I really liked what you did with my last request, so I was wondering if you could do one where Damien (or Shayne) get jealous because reader gets a valentine's day gift from someone else, please? - @lula132

A/N: We’re getting into all those Shayne requests!

Warning(s): Mentions of alcohol, mentions of cheating, swearing

Valentine’s Day. Objectively the worst holiday in your eyes. On top of still having to go to work, it’s only really socially acceptable to give another person a box of chocolates as a gift. Where was the variety? The flavor?

Additionally, you and your long-term boyfriend, Shayne, had decided to forego gifts that year in favor of saving up for a house together. That meant birthdays, Christmas, and yes, Valentine’s Day gifts, were off the table because you both spend an outrageous amount of money on each other each year. So imagine your surprise upon seeing a gift neatly wrapped in the same red gift wrap the two of you had in your apartment sitting on your desk early Valentine’s Day morning.

“I thought we agreed on no gifts, Shayne.” You picked up the wrapped item, turning it over in search of a tag. When you found there was none, it only made you more suspicious of your boyfriend.

“That wasn’t me,” he said, eyebrows furrowed as he watched you fiddle with a loose piece of wrapping paper on the side. While he recognized the wrapping paper, he was one-hundred percent sure that he hadn’t bought you anything. You could check his bank statement if you didn’t believe him.

“Yeah, I’m sure thousands of people have that exact same wrapping paper,” Courtney chimed in. You had no idea where she had come from but judging by the still-steaming coffee in her hands, you were willing to bet from the office kitchen. “I’m pretty sure Ian has that wrapping paper, too.”

You blinked, unsure on how to process that information. “So you think Ian got me a Valentine’s Day gift?”

“Why would Ian--?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Courtney cut Shayne off with a laugh, settling her coffee on your desk. She took the gift from your hands, smoothing back the bit of wrapping paper you had been playing with. “I’m just making a point. This could have been literally anyone in the office.”

You gave her a smirk. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Uh, a who-dunnit in which we figure out who put this present there?”

Shayne looked a little more than peeved at that. “And when you find out who left the gift there, you can tell them that you’re in a loving relationship and have been for the past eight years.”

You pinched his cheeks, making kissy faces at your boyfriend. “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to tell them that my incredibly handsome, loving, and amazing boyfriend didn’t appreciate their gift, bubba.”

Shayne’s cheeks reddened at the nickname, eyes rolling as you leaned in to pepper his face in butterfly kisses. He could be as jealous or as grumpy as he wanted but as long as he knew you were his, all was well. You trusted him and you were sure as hell that he trusted you as well.

“Go find out who sent you the gift.” He moved his face out of range of your constant kisses, taking one of your hands in his and pressing a soft kiss of his own to your knuckles to let you know he wasn’t mad. “And don’t call me bubba at work, that’s reserved for home and home only.”

With a laugh, you agreed. The nickname ‘bubba’ would stay home from thereon out. You turned to Courtney, who had taken to shaking the box in an attempt to figure out what was inside. The item rattled slightly, most likely having been swaddled tightly by tissue paper within the cardboard casing.

“It sounds like pottery,” Courtney deduced, giving it another firm shake. The rattling, similar to the sound of a metal spoon hitting the side of a ceramic bowl, made you wary of the way your friend was manhandling the gift.

“Maybe someone left it here on accident and it’s not actually for me,” you suggested. “After all, there’s no note or anything. I think even if it was from a secret admirer--which it’s not--” you gave Shayne a pointed look-- “I still think there’d be a note of some kind.”

“But we still can’t strike one out,” Courtney pointed out, setting the box down. The shiny red paper sparkled under the shitty office lights, the glitter already wearing off on, well, everything. “Okay, maybe if we start by eliminating people in the office we’ll find who the gift came from faster.”

“Good idea,” you said, pulling out a spare sheet of paper from your desk. Your fingers sought out a pen, yanking the cap off with your teeth. Quickly, you scribbled down the names of all the coworkers you can into regular contact with“So we already know it’s not from Shayne or you--that’s two people down already. And despite the fact that Ian also has this same wrapping paper, I really don’t think he would have left this for you.”

“Okay that’s three people down,” you crossed the names out, marking a heart next to Shayne’s name. You flipped the paper over, showing him the little heart you’d drawn. He frowned but caught the kiss you blew his way anyhow.

“Here’s an idea,” Shayne said, rolling his chair closer to you. Courtney took a noisy sip of her iced coffee, looking between the two of you like a tennis match. “Maybe, someone accidentally left it on your desk. Like any second now, someone’s gonna come by looking for that thing.”

You glanced at the neatly wrapped box, a little battered from Courtney’s thorough examination. It was possible that it wasn’t supposed to be meant for you. It was half-on-half-off your desk originally, the original cart it had shared had been pushed away by now, moved to the other side of the room.

You pulled the box toward you, running your finger along the middle and feeling for the sticky residue that would be a tell-tale sign of the tape that had once been there. Once you found it, you tapped the pad of your finger a few times watching as the paper clung to your skin before separating.

“The label’s fallen off,” you voiced your observation, looking around the floor for it. “If we find that, we’ll find who this was addressed to and who sent this in the first place.”

Courtney immediately set her drink down, getting on her hands and knees in search of the label. You set the box back down on your desk and got on your hands and knees as well, tying your hair out of your line of sight. You pushed Shayne away, laughing as he rolled back a bit further than you thought he would.

“Do you see it?” you asked, using your phone’s flashlight to look in the dark shadows under your desk. You squinted as the flashlight caught on something shiny, frowning when you saw that it was only a scrap piece of laminate. You picked it up anyways, disposing of it correctly and sitting back on your heels.

Courtney’s arm was halfway under your desk on the other end, reaching for something. You watched as she extracted a thin piece of cardstock. She waved the paper around, blowing off the bit of dust clinging to the corner.

“To, Jessica… who’s Jessica?”

You crowded over her shoulder to read the label. “I have no clue who Jessica is, but if we know the sender we can get it back to them.”

She unfolded the paper a bit more. “From… Ian? Is Ian dating?”

“This is way more exciting than me having a secret admirer, oh my God!” You took the label from Courtney, taping the label back down onto the box. “We should really get this back to Ian though.”

Courtney took the box from you, subtly glancing over your shoulder at your still-pouting boyfriend. He was trying to be sneaky, looking over at the two of you when he thought you weren’t looking. You rolled your eyes, laughing as you realized what was happening.

“He’ll get over it,” you said. “He’s just a little embarrassed. I’ll talk to him.”

Courtney nodded, wishing you luck.

You turned on your heel, looking at your ridiculous boyfriend and giving him a smile. You chuckled, sitting in your seat and sliding over to him and forcing his seat to spin so that you could slot your knees between his. You took his hands in yours, pressing soft kisses to his knuckles. Instantly, he relaxed, unclenching his fists and lowering his shoulders.

“You know that you have nothing to be afraid of, right? I love you and only you,” you reassured him. “Ten years and counting, remember?”

You pressed another kiss to his knuckles. This was nothing new, the extremely light PDA at work. Everyone had gotten used to the two of you by now, not caring as long as you weren’t fucking on the desks.

“Yeah,” he said, distracted. His thumb traced over where your ring finger met your palm. It wasn’t difficult for you to guess what he was thinking about. You waited for him to say the words, which you would inevitably reject.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry him because you did. It was just that growing up around parents that fought all the time made you wary of the idea of marriage. At the beginning, your parents had been the most in-love people you’d ever known but as the years drug on, you watched as their “love” disappeared into booze for your mom and other women for your dad.

But sitting here in the office setting, as mundane and most likely cliches as it sounded, you wouldn’t hate the idea of marrying him. He reminded you of everything your parents weren’t and he managed to remind you every day that the two of you were not your parents and never would be, though the fear lingered.

“You’ve got work to do, lover boy,” you teased, pressing one last kiss to his knuckles. “And I have a video of your dorky ass to edit.”

Shayne sighed so lightly that if the printer had been running copies you would have missed it. But he let you get back to work, this wasn’t the time or place for that kind of conversation.

“I love you,” you reminded him. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“I love you, too.”

TAGLISTS

Permanent

@beautiful-holland @toms-order @starlightfound @lemirabitur @grandmascottlang @positiveparker @bippity-boppity-boopa @caswinchester2000

Smosh

@andreasworlsboring101

#shayne topp #shayne topp imagine #shayne topp x reader #shayne topp fanfiction #shayne #topp #smosh #courtney miller #ian hecox #smosh games #shayne topp x fem!reader #fem!reader #reader insert #reader #Female reader #shayne topp x y/n #y/n #valentines day

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cavanaghcharactersxreaderfics · 3 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Earth-19 Harrison "HR" Wells/You, Earth-19 Harrison "HR" Wells & You Characters: Earth-19 Harrison "HR" Wells Additional Tags: More Fluff, valentines day, Romantic Fluff Summary:

As requested by Tumblr user Countlesswells: It’s been a good amount of time since he joined Team Flash but you’ve never really came around to speak to him. You’re much more reserved than the rest and that is what ironically draws him closer to you. His curiosity causes him to grow a crush on you. Over the course of a few weeks HR throws subtle hints and gestures expressing that you entice him. As the days begin to close in on Valentine’s Day he finally gets the courage to ask you out on a date.

HR Wells always managed to make a presence at STAR Labs. His arrival had taken everyone aback, and the discovery that his mind was far from a new Einstein caused tension. Eventually however, everyone settled into HR’s quirky and eccentric mannerisms. HR felt like he was finally home here at STAR Labs; he had friends and people who cared about him, they made him feel like he was important and had a purpose.

He managed to grow close to just about everyone except the one member of the team who usually hung back. They weren’t necessarily rude or unfriendly, but preferred to keep a distance. HR did his best to respect the distance, but found them to be alluring. They were a strikingly gorgeous individual, with distinct features and a kind smile that flashed every now and again when HR made a joke. HR knew very little about the distant figure, but something about them drew him in. Maybe it was the general mysterious aura, or maybe it was just his own curiosity. Whatever it was, his desire to break through to them was incredible, and HR was prepared to do whatever it took to get there.

You, meanwhile, were indeed quiet and reserved. You preferred a quiet moment of study in order to save up your energy for the outbursts of metas that were always just around the corner. HR’s undeniable energy in the building was occasionally distracting and you often found yourself looking up to him gazing at you with a curious expression splashed on his face. He looked upon you like a piece of art, which confused you greatly at first.

There would be times in passing when he would just give a simple compliment. Nothing forward or excessive, just something along the lines of “your hair looks great today,” or “your outfit is stellar, miss y/l/n.”

You always gave him a look, occasionally giving him a slight smile to reward his compliments. He always gave you the biggest grin in response to the smallest of smiles. You were perplexed by the short interactions you had with him. They were not unpleasant in the least, but his for a man so filled with caffeine and exuberant light, he was much quieter around you. It was almost a nice change to have someone respect your boundaries and not tell you that you need to get out more or need to be more social. He was respectful of your distance and quiet countenance.

You weren’t unfriendly in the least, despite what your exterior may have said to the world. You were guarded and cautious, which Team Flash admired, and they were grateful for what you contributed to the team. They were some of the few people in the world who seemed to genuinely understand you, and you were always willing to give back 100% to the people who gave you so much. Harry and you were always close, being similar in nature and personality. This was why you had been so cautious of HR when he first arrived. He seemed, at first, to be a very “in your face” kind of person and you had been pleasantly surprised to find otherwise through your moments together.

It was another cold winter in Central City. The late February wind practically blew you into the doors of STAR Labs. The sky was grey and cloudy with a threat of a snowstorm approaching. Shaking off the cold and stepping into the warm lab, you hung your coat and made your way through the circular hallways towards the Cortex.

A warm pink glow greeted you upon arrival causing you to smile. H.R., still hanging decorations, turned as he saw you walk in. He gave you his usual smile, spreading ear to ear and lighting up his pale blue eyes. “Y/n!” He said excitedly, jumping off of a step ladder where he was hanging paper hearts, “I take it you like the decor?”

“It’s definitely unexpected, but it’s really pretty. It’s also really early, how long have you been at this?” You questioned, looking around at the glowing pink lights, paper hearts, and pink tinsel that was strung about the cortex.

“Hmm,” he glanced at his naked wrist, “well considering I haven’t slept, I have been here for… a while.”

“You haven’t slept? Why not? It’s just Valentine’s Day, it doesn’t have to be as extravagant as Christmas, does it?” You giggled as HR passed you a cup of coffee.

“Well, maybe it doesn’t have to be horribly extravagant every year, but this year…” He paused, staring down into his own coffee cup, “This year deserves to be special.”

“Tell me now, HR, why is that?” You sat down spinning the chair round to face HR. This was the most conversation you had ever had with HR, you thought to yourself.

“Mon dieu! I thought you’d never ask! Well, this is my first time celebrating Valentine’s Day on Earth-1. My first time spending it with people I actually like and that, you know, seem to actually like me too. I know it’s usually a romantic thing and all that but, why not celebrate love for everyone? Friends, family, lovers, and, well, why not your dog or your hamster? I feel like so long as I’m here with all you guys, I might as well make the most of it, you know?” HR sighed, his long-winded expression of love completed.

You gifted HR your usual tiny smile, the corners of your lips barely turning up, “I think that’s a great sentiment, HR. It’s really sweet of you to do all this for all of us.”

“Funny enough, there is a bit more to this than just celebrating with BA or Francisco, I uh-” he paused again, “well, I have been meaning to, for some time now, well I mean I guess, I, hmm.” He stopped again, taking a moment to look around at the glowing pink decorations around him, “Ah, I guess there’s no need to beat around the bush here, I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight? I know you aren’t usually super social and I respect that, I mean there are days when I don’t even want to look at myself in the mirror, but that’s besides the point. I just mean, you know, I don’t want to pressure you into anything but you’re very attractive and more than that you seem like a genuinely wonderful person and it would be my honor to spend my first Earth 1 Valentine’s Day with you, if that’s okay?”

You sat in your chair, a full fledged smile on your face as you laughed.

HR’s face fell as tears came down your face as you laughed, “I’m sorry I just, I shouldn’t have said anything I guess, I, forget it.”

His hand rubbed the back of his neck as he started to walk off. You jumped from your chair and caught his arm, “No! HR I’m sorry, it’s just, no one’s ever asked me out in such a lengthy and genuine mannerism. It was a surprise to me. I know I’m usually not the most talkative person but, I’m more than willing to go out with you. In fact, I’m the one who should feel honored to have someone as sweet and genuine as you ask me out.” You took his hand, “HR, I will absolutely spend your first Earth-1 Valentine’s Day with you. I wouldn’t want to spend it with anyone else.”

HR absolutely beamed, “really? I mean, I’m honored that you’re honored that I’m honored. We can go wherever you want, we don’t have to go out either, we could stay in! I could make coffee and I could bake some biscuit-” you cut him off this time.

“HR, you’ve had too much caffeine already. Why not just go somewhere quiet for dinner, okay? Just the two of us, nothing big or loud, just quiet. Somewhere we can… talk.” You smiled.

“I would love, to talk to you, y/n. It’s all I’ve wanted.” HR put an arm around your shoulder, looking down at you with a smile. “Now, want to help me finish these decorations?”

“You have more?!” The room already looked as if cupid had puked on every surface.

“So SO many more.” HR said, deadpan.

“Well, hand me the string, let’s see how much we can cover Cisco’s desk in hearts.”

“You really are the woman of my dreams.” He dumped a bundle of paper hearts into your arms with a cheeky grin “let’s make some love.”

#hr wells x reader #Closer #toliveforwells #The Flash #general #fluff #Valentine's Day #HR Wells

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melacka · 3 years

Text

A Blacklist Secret Santa

Sending out the very best wishes for a wonderful festive season to @reddingtonsplace. I am your Blacklist Secret Santa and I offer you a brand new Lizzington fic which I sincerely hope you enjoy. It’s chock full of flirting, Christmas-related fluff and an eventful undercover operation.

Thanks, as always, to the organisers of this event. I look forward to it every year and really appreciate the effort you put in to facilitate so much great new content.

Now, on with the story!

Title: Precious Time by Melacka

Rating: T (for suggestive comments only)

Word Count: 2210

Summary: Red had been so wired after their little undercover jaunt that when he returned to the safe house he couldn’t think of anything but Lizzy. He knew that if he left her to her own devices at this critical juncture, the most likely outcome was that she would turn herself inside out trying to rationalise her actions and then seek to distance herself. He couldn’t allow that to happen, not this time.

Or, after an untimely interruption halts an intimate moment undercover, Red seeks Liz out to talk it over.

You can read it on AO3 here or keep reading below.

Liz took a careful sip of her champagne and tried to focus on what the man sitting next to her was saying. Unfortunately, she was having some trouble concentrating. She couldn’t remember his name, or why he was sitting next to her, or what information she was trying to extract from him. Unfortunately, she was also having trouble remembering what name she was supposed to be using or what her cover was. When she’d agreed to go undercover with Red at this event, she hadn’t anticipated that he would introduce her as his wife or that he would spend most of the night touching her. When they were dancing, he pulled her close into him and encouraged her to lean against his shoulder, claiming that it would help her not to think too much about the steps and just enjoy the dance. He was right, of course, which Liz chose to keep to herself. When he introduced her to various people, he managed to keep in touch with some part of her body at all times. And now, he had one arm draped over the back of her chair and his fingers were tracing gentle patterns on her back. It had been like that all evening. It was nothing inappropriate, of course, but it was so deliberate, so casually intimate, that even she was starting to believe that they were lovers.

If only, she thought and then shook her head slightly. Get a grip, Liz.

“You disagree, Clarice?” her mystery man said, sounding surprised.

Liz snapped her attention back to her conversation partner and favoured him with a wide smile. She had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

“Oh, not at all!” Liz said breezily, trying to cover her confusion with charm. “I don’t know how anyone could disagree!”

“Quite right,” Red murmured from her other side. “Clarice, my dear, may I borrow you for a moment?”

“Of course, Raymond,” Liz said demurely. “Would you excuse us?”

Red stood and offered her his arm. She placed her hand on his elbow and remained close by his side as they exited the room.

“You seem distracted this evening,” Red murmured, when they were far enough away from the other guests to speak in relative privacy. “Anything I can help with?”

“Yes,” Liz sighed, “remind me who I’m talking to again.”

“That gentleman is Jackson Nicholls, useful for his connections but otherwise uninteresting. He’s a small fish in a rather large pond, Lizzy, you don’t need to worry if you find his conversation less than scintillating.”

“Oh, thank God.” Liz threw a glance over her shoulder and then steered Red further away from the crowd. “By the way,” she said, turning to look at him with an eyebrow raised. “Clarice?”

“You don’t like it?” he asked innocently. “I thought that it was curiously appropriate.”

“Appropriate?” Liz scoffed. “Do me a favour and never ever tell me your reasoning for that.”

“Are you feeling alright, Lizzy?” Red asked, caught somewhere between amusement and concern. “You’ve been distracted all night and now you’re telling me not to explain myself.”

Liz laughed softly and reached a hand up to adjust his bowtie. It was perfectly straight, of course, she was just wound so tight that she felt the need for some kind of contact.

“I’m fine, Raymond.”

“You’ve been calling me Raymond an awful lot this evening.”

“Is there something else you’d like me to call you, Raymond?” she said playfully.

“Not at all,” he replied quickly, pulling her in a fraction closer. “I like to hear you say it.”

“What a coincidence.”

“Coincidence?”

“Oh yes,” Liz said, slipping her hands around his waist and smiling when his eyes widened. “I’ve found that I quite like saying it, as well. It has a certain ring to it, wouldn’t you agree? And there’s just something so pleasurable about the way it feels in my mouth.”

Red gaped and Liz felt a little flutter in her stomach at her daring.

“Lizzy—”

“Raymond,” she purred as she hugged him tightly. “Raymond.” She lifted her face to his. “Raymond.”

“Raymond!” a voice called out jovially and Liz froze. “There you two are! Sneaking off at a party like a couple of teenagers, I don’t know what’s gotten into you!”

Red sent an irritated glare towards the intruder but otherwise didn’t move. Liz recognised him as one of the men who worked for their host and had a sudden thrill of fear that they had been found out.

“Although, with a beautiful woman like that on offer, I can’t say I blame you. Clarice, isn’t it? A pleasure to meet you.”

“Isaac,” Red said gruffly. “Was there something you needed?”

“I’m sorry, have I interrupted something important?”

Liz only just managed to stop herself from shouting out that yes, he had very much interrupted something important.

“You don’t sound especially worried by your interruption, Isaac,” Red said smoothly. “And you still haven’t given the reason for it.”

“Dinner is almost ready to be served,” Isaac continued, still staring avidly at Liz. “Your absence was a point of some concern for our host.”

“Naturally.” Red sounded annoyed but when he turned his attention back to Liz, his tone was considerably softer. “Sweetheart, are you ready to re-join the party?”

“Of course, darling,” Liz murmured, pressing a teasing kiss to his neck, chuckling at the shiver that passed through him at the contact. “Anything you want.”

Red closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers briefly before he pulled away and gestured for her to precede him out of the room.

“You lucky dog!” Isaac cried, slapping Red on the back as he passed.

Red looked murderous, Liz just smiled and walked away.

Early the next morning, Raymond Reddington held his breath as he watched Liz enter the small café. She scanned the room quickly as she unwound the scarf from her neck and unbuttoned her coat. She froze when she noticed him, and it would have been comical if Red didn’t have so much riding on this meeting. He relaxed somewhat when he saw the slight softening around her lips, barely the hint of a smile, but Red was prepared to take what he could get.

He’d barely slept at all the night before and he'd already had two cups of coffee this morning to compensate. He’d been so wired after their little undercover jaunt that when he returned to the safe house he couldn’t think of anything but Lizzy. They hadn’t uncovered any useful intel about the Blacklister they were chasing, but their evening left Red with so much to consider. So many possibilities seemed to open up before him, but he felt like he needed to move fast before Lizzy slammed the door in his face. He knew that if he left her to her own devices at this critical juncture, the most likely outcome was that she would turn herself inside out trying to rationalise her actions and then seek to distance herself. He couldn’t allow that to happen, not this time.

He tried to regulate his breathing as Liz wove her way through the tables and chairs towards where he sat alone. He summoned his best carefree smile as she came to a stop directly in front of him.

“Lizzy, fancy meeting you here!”

Liz raised an eyebrow at him but otherwise remained impassive as she spoke.

“Considering the fact that I live just around the corner from this place, I’d say that it’s far more likely that I’ll be here than you, Red.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that! This is fast becoming one of my favourite haunts.”

“Really?” Liz said dryly, her eyes flicking quickly to his lips before she raised them to glance carelessly around the room. “I guess it’s time for me to find a new local, then.”

“You wound me, Lizzy,” Red sighed dramatically, and Liz grinned. “Care to join me? They have some rather delicious looking items on their menu.”

“Well—” Liz began, looking hesitant. “It’s just that I wasn’t expecting to see you today. It’s supposed to be my day off.”

“I’m not here to work,” Red said calmly. “This is purely a social visit, I assure you.”

She hesitated for a moment more before she shrugged and pulled out the chair across from him, draping her coat carefully over the back.

“Well, now that we’re both here, we may as well make the most of it.”

“Exactly! Let us make the most of our opportunities before they completely pass us by.”

Liz shot him a suspicious look but merely said, “Are you sure I’m not going to be disturbing your plans by joining you?”

“I am, as you know, a very busy man, Lizzy.” Liz snorted at this but Red continued speaking unperturbed, “But your company is always welcome.”

“What a relief,” she said dryly as she reached over to steal the menu from under his hand.

“Looking to try something new, Lizzy?”

“Hmm,” she said, sounding non-committal. “I’ve been thinking that it’s about time for some pretty drastic change in my life. May as well start with my breakfast order.”

“That’s awfully philosophical of you for so early in the day.”

“I can manage it occasionally. What are you getting?”

“I was thinking of getting a range of options,” Red said, watching her face carefully to gauge her reaction. “Perhaps we could share.”

“Sounds great,” Liz said immediately. “Just make sure none of the options are pancakes.”

“Your drastic change doesn’t reach to pancakes?”

“Ugh, no!” Liz said, laughing a little even as she sounded indignant. “The change that needs to come is for the things I can actually stomach. I’m not looking to punish myself by introducing pancakes to my diet.”

“Well, I’m relieved to hear that you’re not seeking to punish yourself,” Red said quietly as he gestured to the waitress.

Liz watched him in silence as he seemed to order at least three quarters of the menu. His enthusiasm made her smile, and she hadn’t quite managed to subdue it before he looked up at her again.

“Something amusing?” he asked lightly.

“Many things,” she said vaguely. “I was just admiring your enthusiasm, though we may need to move to a bigger table to fit all that food. Just how long are you planning to sit here? It’ll take a few hours to work your way through it all, won’t it?”

“I am always in favour of a leisurely breakfast. When the food is good, the day is fine and the company delightful, what more could I need?”

“Speaking of need,” Liz began slowly.

“Oh, you do intrigue me, Lizzy,” Red interrupted her smoothly. “Do tell.”

“I’ve been trying to decide what to get you for Christmas, actually,” Liz said in a rush. “And I was trying to think if there was anything you needed.”

“Lizzy!” Red cried, delighted. “How kind of you to think of me, but you must know that it is completely unnecessary.”

“It may not be necessary, but I’d still like to get you something,” Liz said quietly, fingering the tablecloth in front of her and avoiding his eyes. “But what could I possibly give you that you haven’t already got?”

“Are you looking for suggestions, Lizzy?” A wicked grin spread across his face as he continued, “I can think of a few things.”

“Oh?” she prompted, looking wary. “Such as?”

“Well, I’ve always preferred the personal touch when it comes to gifts. I can, of course, obtain any material object I desire with very little difficulty, but something a little more personal, Lizzy?” He leaned back in his chair and sighed wistfully. “Priceless.”

“The personal touch, huh?” Liz said, eyeing him speculatively. “And just what kind of personal touch would you appreciate?”

Red dearly wanted to tell her that any personal touch from her would be like water to a dying man but thought that she may not appreciate such a sentiment so early in the day. At least, not until she’d had some coffee and something to eat.

“There is nothing more precious than time,” he said instead.

“Time?” Liz echoed, sounding unconvinced. “You just want—”

“Quality time, Elizabeth. No subterfuge, no Blacklisters, no distractions.”

Liz bit her lip as she searched his face eagerly. After a tense moment of silence, a broad smile spread across her face.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” Liz said again. “Let’s spend some time together, for Christmas.”

The waitress chose that moment to bring the first of their many dishes to the table, so Red was able to take a moment to compose himself.

“Well, Lizzy, that sounds wonderful,” he said eventually, managing to keep his voice almost entirely steady. “I hope you will allow me to get you a Christmas gift as well.”

“The gift of time not enough for you?” Liz teased.

“Lizzy, it’s very tiresome when you use my words against me like that.”

“Is it? Well, I’m sure we’ll think of something you can give me, Red.”

“Lizzy—”

“Raymond,” Liz said. “Just eat your breakfast. We’re going to be here for hours as it is.”

Red smiled and raised his coffee cup to her in a toast.

“Precious time, Lizzy, it’s all the better for being spent with you.”

#the blacklist secret santa #lizzington #fanfic

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anestheticrage · 4 years

Text

Be me: Japanese honor student🎓, 15, with half a brain and even less of a plan. Hunting bitches by day and witches by night. Livin that dank only child✌️ life while mom n dad yeet all over the globe, leavin me plenty of time to forget not to make 2 lunches for myself #quirky 😜

no time for socialization or basic electronics skills ???📱??? when your best friends are an alien demon rabbit🐰👽 and the inexplicable Hole ™ in your brain. lmao, btw did i mention im ✨M✨A✨G✨I✨C✨A✨L✨

dreamin bout my 2D waifus again when familiar pink haired cancer patient dances through my brain passin out fliers: Kamihama Meguca Dating Service: Sponsored by Cult of the Magius. 250 stones per session 🤔

seems legit, Mr. Moneybags. wasn't spending my unwieldy sack of gemstones on anything else anyway. lets pull 💎💎💎

first up we have Redhead Radagast and her plethora of plants. 🌿☺️🦎

anndd, nearly dies immediately.

well not off to a great start but i guess shes pretty cute at lea- oh FUCK its her girlfriend, Tsundere Poseidon😒🔱💦, and their exasperated, straight and single Sword Mom 😔🗡️🔥. fml gonna have to save up for the next pull. might as well play a few rounds with what i got tho.

get in some good girl talk about things like school, color coded hair styles, body count, permanent soul damage, and our personal demon pacts. ya know, the usual 😚 . realize my dark backstory seems to be missing, so the girls take me to Ketchup Queen Sappho 🍅🥧 (wtf?) to molest my glowy egg stone. whatevs, more action than ive had since Kuroe 🖤 got added to the story anyway

the gang agrees it's time to hunt down the cutest rabbit pimp 🕶️🐇💵 in the city. >> say 🎵mukyuuu🎵 one more time and ill hug you so hard my backstory will pop right out, you adorable fluffy bastard. plz be my new best friend 💕

Form brand new friendship pact with Kyubae, and remember that my lil Sis 🐥 was always the best wingman for pickin up magic chicks, and kept her side of the room so spotless i forgot she existed. whoops 乁༼☯‿☯✿༽ㄏ Maybe if I find her i can stop paying these exorbitant pull fees.📵💎

speaking of which: hot damn this week's featured bachelorette is a 19 year old model and magical detective🔎 with massive levels of PTSD and self loathing 🥵💙💦 more likely to stab you or dramatically jump off a rooftoop than utter a single positive comment. wow, maybe i really COULD find true love…

... if i had MORE THAN A 1% FUCKING DRAW CHANCE. 😡 smh

hard to make much progress finding sis or winning the broken heart of a hard boiled detective amidst the never ending lover's quarrel of the Trident Vine Lesbians. 💔 Sword Mom tells them if they don't behave a monster will take them away. LOL classic mom 🤣

>>>HOLY FUCK IT DID

declare all-out war on urban legends, starting with staircases ⚔️ to reunite the dysfunctional trio, and hope that I net a way better lineup with the next 10x pull. at least sad sleuth lady came to help out. they say combat is the best way to bond wi- and there she goes off the rooftop again 🙄 fml

alright that got way off track, we need a fresh start, away from all the loli drama. how bout a little B&E🔓🔨🤷🏻‍♀️ at the local house of worship to clear my head. ahh nothing like the unanswered prayers of the masses to get you in the mood for another wasted pull, and the 🔥 MIGHTIEST 🔥 headache you could ask for with a side of Double Cooked Pork 🐖🍜 (meh 5/10🧾)

venture forth into the spiritual unknown with your new human flamethrower🔥🌻🧡 and ask your favorite private eye to please, for the love of Eve, trade Meguca accounts with me~~~ Head through the eastern spirit portal to meet up with hologram propaganda sis and detective crush's evil ex, who joined a dating-app cult (#fuck) and also turned into the moon?🌕?(that's rough buddy)

get ambushed by Acid Horse on Wheels 🌈🐴 and vomit up my soul so hard that its time for a crossover episode. T U R F F F W A R R R *que operatic harmonies* 💛 Blondie with the hair drills and enough attitude and guns to fill up a noble phantasm tries to ban my account permanently, but PI heartthrob denies her admin privileges. aww babe i didn't know you cared. 😭♥️

get kidnapped by my new true love and go back to her place 😏 defs enough empty rooms to house five emotionally traumatized girls and at least two ghosts hehehe👻 XD 💚🃏💜🎸 decide to form the anti-gossip brigade and recruit my blazing sunflower after getting ambushed by the witch living in my fruit loops🥣

❌outvoted 2:1 that cults are bad. mf. fiinneee one last pull to round out the team and then I'll delete the app. cmonnn Karin 🎃~

OH HELL YEAH TWO FOR ONE.

Always wanted a daughter 💜🔨🐄 with a penchant for pissing off the local Martial Arts & Books Club and drinking suspicious liquids offered by total strangers. Well if it's good enough for her AND the sexy mayadere with enough game to seduce a mermaid, might as well get in on that myself.

#curseddrank 🤢 0/24 would not recommend to a friend, 'cept maybe Ria

win alot of cash 🤑, blow up a fountain, meet the pied piper²🎶🖕, moon cult, monochrome feathers, something about liberation✊🏻; adopt temper tantrum cow girl. aces 💜🥩

Next up!!! skydiving with DJ Hammer! Jump to apparently-not-certain death after suicidal A.I. 💚💾🗼 tells you to rescue her hostage before they run out of Radiohead albums and have to move on to Thom Yorke's solo discography. save the invisible shield kitten 💚👑😿 from happiness and get chased through the internet by the sexiest homicidal Paint Pallette 💚🎨😈 since Caravaggio. (apparently green is the color of the digital apocalypse. i’m deleting Kako from my friend's list)

that’s it, fuck this app. 250 stones 💎 per-life-threatening-experience is more than i’m willing to deal with 😓 don’t wanna mess with the perfect nuclear family anyway. we've already got:

✔️the two emotionally traumatized moms with memory and commitment issues

✔️the adhd daughter with anger management problems and a giant hammer

✔️the psychologically abused scizophrenic cat

✔️and the eccentric aunt with crippling anxiety

#squadgoals

now that were done hoarding bitches, its time to hunt the witches. and the bitches makin the witches. btw did i mention the witches ARE the bitches! AND WERE ALL GOING TO DIE!? 📽️⁉️💀 wait fuck lets back up a second

This is Nemo📕 and Token🧪 and they have all the answers but prefer if you only ask vague questions in exchange for vague responses so they can fill in the rest by discussing their superior intellect 🧠 at length. not to mention they built that dating app, so of course everyone in my harem decides to be a FUCKING. TRAITOR.🤬

cept waifu prime ofc 🥰💙. [PTSD > brainwashing] 'yOu CaN bE tHe LeAdEr NoW'. i have been from the very beginning you traumatized Hinedere nightmare. maybe if you weren't so caught up collecting surrogate daughters you would've noticed IM👏THE👏ONLY👏 ONE👏PROGRESSING👏THE FUCKING👏PLOT✨

rescue the rest of dysfunctional found-family™ from selves before my adorable firebender burns down Disnihama🎡🔥😱 during her weekly anxiety attack. (love the makeover T B H)

CHAPTER 8: Magical Girl Massacre🩸🗡️

- everyone has like, the shittiest day ever

- the new Pope really needs to be extradited from the church

- make friends with a really pretty tree 🌺🌲✨

i swear, if i don't finish this god damn story in time to get that free pull im gonna beat the shit out of every mirror i find in that giant mansion that i haven't even had any time to even mention yet. 🖕🏚️ let alone EVERYTHING happening with the prequel [fuck you, I'm the star] girls 💗💜💙💛❤️️ and their multidimensional melodrama. We don't need that many repetitive af episodes to emphasize that Homo-ra is a shitty person. we've all seen Rebellion. 🙄

NO, I DONT CARE IF YOU WANT SAPPHO'S BACKSTORY, I ONLY HAVE 79 STONES LEFT AND IF YACHAN FINDS OUT I HAVEN'T DELETED THE APP YET IM GONNA HAVE TO GO SLEEP IN WITH SANA 😭💎💸😠

uhhhggggg where were we… Topple a cult and burn down Hotel Denoument only to realize that Sis was fused with the dating app servers this entire madokafuckin time (told ya she was the best wingman 😊).

Dilemma: Sis =🥚, Triumvirate of Trouble want 🐣. What do? vote now:

Help Hatch - IIIIIII

Not Do That - IIIII

What The Actual Fuck Is Going On - IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Lets just fight everyone until something good happens.

🔥🔫🔥🗡️🔥😱🔥🌆🔥😱🔥🛡️🔥💣🔥

Kill (???) the artist-in-chief of the italian reindeer murder police after teaching her the true meaning of Christmas 🎄 hatch 🐣lil Sis and realize she WAS your wingman all along🐰 MUKYUUUU! we're just gonna ignore how much trouble it would have saved if you'd just mentioned that. "yOu DiDnT aSk..."

FUCK YOU SPACE BITCH. ONCE AN INCUBATOR ALWAYS AN INCUBATOR 🖕🐇🔪

anywho, somewhere along the lines we of course summoned the Antichrist ⚙️ because why not raise the stakes to max and still not kill off a single character. Madofuckinkami, can we PLEASE wrap this up. 😩💤

feathers (not the culty kind, tfm) rain from the sky, and the power of friendship and not having the Urobutcher 🔪🩸as a lead writer saves our peacefully sectioned off alternate reality 😇

TL:DR fuck cults, real life waifus DO exist, don't sell your soul to space rabbits, or your stones to megacorporations. Enjoy arc 2 on the JP server with your shitty translation patch you filthy fuckin weebs

Yours Truly,

- Thirsty Weeb Eroha 💗💎😘

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cheuwing · 3 years

Note

First of all: Thank you very much for your metas! I have a question about the role of Greg in tjlc. What exactly is he doing? Is he a good one or a baddy? Any space for Mystrade in tjlc?

Hello dear,

Thank you so much for your message! I was surprised to receive a question after such a long absence (a very nice surprise!). I don’t know if you’ll read my answer; hopefully it will find you well. :)

It is a very interesting question... I haven’t rewatched every single episode with a focus on Greg (I might do it later!), so feel free to take my view with a pinch of salt.

First of all: I adore Gavin Greg Lestrade! He is such an amazing, complex character in the series. I believe it is clear that Greg is on the good side. Actually, I think each character mentioned on the rooftop scene as targeted by Moriarty is explicitly good: John Watson, Mrs Hudson, Greg Lestrade. (Every other speculation is fair game, but these three are unquestionably good) The show never questions their loyalty either. Greg might be disgrunted sometimes, but he’s always there to help and support Sherlock (the “maximum back up” scene at the beginning of TSOT comes to mind). Furthermore, he is the very first one who talks about Sherlock’s side: “Sherlock Holmes is a great man, and I think one day, if we're very, very lucky, he might even be a good one.” To me, these elements prove without the shadow of a doubt that Greg is, in fact, good.

Also, according to Sherlock:

That’s all the proof I need! x)

Now, regarding Greg’s role in TJLC... My personal opinion is that he serves as a mirror. Typically, a mirror for Sherlock:

detective, keen on solving cases,

clever,

good coat, and similar clothes in general,

quits cigarettes at the same time as Sherlock (showing their matching patches in ASIP), both are seen with - unlit - cigarettes in their mouth in s3,

willing to bend the rules a little bit to solve his cases - namely by calling a “consulting detective”,

blunt and a bit ruthless (his introduction scene in which he is uncomfortable, possibly annoyed, in front of the media and deadpans “Don’t commit suicide” while Sally plays Watson’s role as social facilitator)

solving a case or saving a friend is more important than taking credit,

a bit of a drama queen (... that “maximum back up” scene comes to mind again xD),

lovely interactions with John in which they tend to be very honest and a bit arseholy (”NOT REALLY”)... (also: taking care of him and bringing Sherlock memorabilia in Many Happy Returns), a few moments of them working perfectly in sync (that action walk shot in HLV)

... among other things!

Interestingly, I think it’s fair to say that Greg is associated to John in some aspects (public servants, caring arseholes, both of them striving to guide Sherlock on the side of the angels, mindful of Sherlock’s emotions & thoughts process... Betrayed by their wives. Even on a visual level: action walk in HLV, shooting scene in THOB, in which, hilariously, even though John shoots second, he manages to catch his target => metaphors!!!)

I personally believe that Greg serves to show how a real, uncomplicated friendship with Sherlock (or John, for that matter) would work. He has no problem hugging him when he comes back (something John is unable to do, because he is overwhelmed with too many conflicting emotions... also, they’re not alone). Talking about emotions and such is easier between them too (Greg doesn’t hesitate to ask about John when Sherlock brings Molly for the case). They still bicker, argue and even play jokes on one another like John & Sherlock do (Lestrade never hesitates to film Sherlock on his phone, or to force him to wear a security blanket). Same goes between John & Lestrade: the friendship is much smoother/more wholesome than with Sherlock, because no one has to rein desire/unspoken emotions in. I mean, as @just-sort-of-happened highlighted it in this post: Greg provides a contrast to John's attraction to Sherlock.

So there you go: to me, Greg is a mirror for Sherlock and his interactions with both John & Sherlock serve as a contrast between the wholesome friendship that could be and the complicated relationship with lots of hidden desires, unspoken things and general sense of constrinct that these two have.

I also believe that Greg is a sort of mentor to them? He is the one who guides onto the right path, the one who is concerned, who is proud (his proud daddy expressions give me life), and I guess, who experiences things first (he has already worked on the cases before he presents them to Sherlock - and usually has failed -, he shoots the hound first - and fails -, he was married before John - and... you get the jist). I feel like Greg will start his grand relationship before Johnlock and in a sense, will show them the way.

As for the grand relationship in question... I love Mystrade. I really do. If it becomes canon, I’d be very happy. (Also, I could totally see Mark Gatiss thrilled to pose with Rupert Graves, his crush from Maurice, as his fictional lover ^^). Greg has been associated with John enough that I could see their relationship as a mirror for Johnlock. (and I certainly love this trope in fanfics!) I would be more than satisfied with Mystrade (also... if it happened after years of queerbaiting issues? two gay couples? with Gatiss, creator of the show, playing a character in a homosexual relationship? That could be pretty cool).

However, I have to say that I’m not really convinced it will happen in the show? It seems to me Mycroft is very much presented as an asexual character, or, at the very least, someone who doesn’t understand sex at all (the allusions with Lady Smallwood show how uncomprehending he is on the subject, and not just in a ‘gay man approached by a woman’ kind of way. Contrast with Sherlock in ASIP, being able to say ‘women are not my area’, ‘I know it’s fine’ and ‘while I’m flattered by your interest....’). In Sherlock’s mind palace, Mycroft serves as “the mind”, cold, logical, rational, in contrast to John “the heart”, emotion-focused, soft. In the Mayfly Man deduction, Mycroft insists on intricate planning, intent... whereas John focuses on sex right away. Thus, I personally see Mycroft as very remote from the concept of sexuality.

I personally see another likelier (in the context of the show) love interest for Greg: Molly Hooper. If Greg is an obvious mirror for Sherlock, Molly is an obvious mirror for John (I mean, very explicitly... And also at the wedding). There is already a history of interest between the two, at least from Greg’s part. Remember the gaping mouth at Molly’s dress at Christmas? How the camera framed them as a couple at the wedding, while Tom was obviously discarded as a serious lasting boyfriend for her? To be fully honest, I would probably be slightly annoyed at Molly’s character development if she goes out with another Sherlock mirror, but... It would make sense. She said it herself: she has a type. And I’d argue that Greg is a much more wholesome mirror for Sherlock, and he’s obviously interested in her. I think the writers already paved the road for this romance, so it seems likelier to me. I guess we will wait and see :)

To sum up => I ADORE Greg Lestrade. I hadn’t explored my thoughts on him for a long time before I received your message and had the perfect opportunity to do so. It is a joy to study his character and role in the story. To me, he is unquestionably good (like Mrs H & John). He is a fascinating mirror for Sherlock, and a great friend who shows what an uncomplicated friendship with John & Sherlock would look like. I’d definitely be happy to see Mystrade on screen (and these versions of Mycroft and Greg would certainly work well together! I think Greg would love to tease Mycroft like John does sometimes -> cue to hilarious expressions). I personally don’t think the writers would go there, but who knows? That could be very satisfying. I think a likelier mirror for Johnlock will be provided with Molly/Lestrade. Either way, Lestrade might very well be the one to show John & Sherlock the way to love. I’m curious to see how they will show it :)

Hopefully this will be a satisfying answer. Take care, dear! (And feel free to share your thoughts with me on the matter :) )

#TJLC #tjlc meta #greg lestrade #molly as a mirror #johnlock #my meta #mycroft and sex #Mycroft Holmes #greg as a mirror

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pls-let-me-out · 3 years

Text

Invisible String

21st of December

“Do you not like my friends?”

Will almost jumped out of his skin. Niccolò was standing just a couple of feet from him, with his hands in his pockets, and a scowl on his face. He was wearing Will’s–it was actually Niccolò’s, but Will had always worn it–scarf, and a black beanie.

Will’s lips tightened. What could he say? He did like them. They were fun to be around, and had a great sense of humor. Plus, seeing them tease Niccolò was entertaining.

“It’s not that,” Will settled for. “It’s–I don’t know.”

“You do know,” Niccolò said. “Just–nothing. We should go. Seen anything you like?”

Will shook his head. They were looking for a Christmas tree, apparently they would be shooting a little video for a Royal Family thing. When Niccolò was explaining it, Will was too busy being scared to death to listen thoroughly.

“Wait!” Will called, when Niccolò was already at the end of that tree aisles. Niccolò looked back at him with a frown, which had Will’s fingertips tickle with the need to smooth it out. “Can we get hot chocolate before we head out?”

Niccolò rolled his eyes. He didn’t say no.

“What do you mean presents?” Niccolò asked, his face turning into an even more prominent scowl. “We don’t need to get each other gifts.”

“I’m not spending money for this dumbass,” Will said, taking the cup from Niccolò’s hands to take a sip. He was immediately kicked in the shin by Niccolò, but the biggest punishment was the taste of that thing inside. “Is this death? Am I tasting death?”

“It’s coffee, you genius,” Niccolò said, taking the mug back. “Sorry I’m an adult and don’t put milk in it.”

Will just grimaced. “I see why you’re so bitter. You’re poisoning yourself.”

Niccolò opened his mouth, but Piper interrupted them before he could talk, hitting the wooden table. She sighed, exasperation clear on her face. As clear as the fact that the gifts exchanging wasn’t her and Annabeth’s idea, probably Persephone’s. Maybe even Hazel’s.

“What Annabeth and I are trying to say, is that it’s only normal you two exchange gifts. You will spend Christmas together, won’t you?”

Will turned to Niccolò. “My time and company are going to be your present.”

“Hope you kept the receipt.”

Annabeth rubbed her temples. “Guys.”

“Honestly, if you want us to have gifts so much, you should just buy them for us,” Niccolò said, looking smug in his chair. “Then we’ll give them to each other. We’d be even more surprised!”

Will sighed. “Don’t be rude, you ass. I honestly haven’t even changed my money to euros.” He grimaced. “I guess I’ve been kind of leeching off of you.”

Niccolò shrugged. “It’s my fault you’re here in the first place.”

Annabeth clasped her hands together. “Then what’s better than using the Royal Family’s money to buy each other gifts?”

“Not buying each other gifts,” Niccolò said.

“Donating the money to charity.”

Niccolò nodded, very vaguely waving his hand toward Will. “Yeah, that, too.”

“I honestly don’t even know what I could buy you,” Will said, putting his elbow on the table and his chin on his fist. “What could you possibly want? You’re already rich.”

“I’d like McDonald’s. I haven’t had it in so long.”

“We can arrange that.”

“I’m not sure there are any McDonald’s around.”

Will grimaced. “Isn’t this city a nightmare?”

“I’m not even replying to that,” Annabeth said. “C’mon guys. You’ll have to put something on social network sooner or later, it could be the two of you opening gifts. People want to see you.”

“People can see me on Google Image,” Niccolò replied. “Seriously. It’s none of their business what we’re doing.”

“You are a public figure, Nico.”

“Also,” Piper continued. “As you know there’s always been speculation about your sexuality. People are wondering whether you and this soulmate of yours will be lovers or platonic.”

“And I’m sure they’d love it,” Niccolò said.

Will couldn’t help a grimace. Up until a few decades back, courtship between two soulmates of the same sex wasn’t accepted. Will hadn’t even thought it would be an option for them. Niccolò was a prince, didn’t he need to have heirs or something?

Fuck. It only made things more complicated. Will knew himself, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop wondering, if there was even a sliver of hope for the two of them. He buried that hope thinking about his parents.

“I’m sure they’d love to see me with a boy, wouldn’t they.”

Will’s eyes snapped back up at Niccolò, and it hit him like a bucket of cold water. He had forgotten how cold the other’s face could turn. How his voice could become blank. How distant he became.

“They’d love to see me bonding with a man, wouldn’t they?” Niccolò asked, as if he the words were clawing out of his throat.

I’m bisexual! Will wanted to scream. I’m bisexual so stop saying shit like that, like it’s disgusting. He wanted to say it, instead he just pushed the chair back, and stood. What was he expecting from someone who had lived his whole life in a palace? It was only a given that Niccolò would be homophobic. In times like this, Will’s life reminded him of a staged joke.

“It’s just gifts,” he said. His voice was steadier than he thought it would be. “Let’s just take a scarf each and be done with it.”

“It would be different. You’d be soulmates,” he heard Piper say, but he was already leaving the room. He could feel eyes boring holes in his back.

Before letting them use the sleigh, Piper took at least a hundred photo. Most of them had either Nico or Will with an indignant expression on their face, as the other talked passionately. Ten minutes later, and Nico couldn’t remember what they had been bickering about.

He was half hunched over his sleigh, the cold wind in his face, on the path ahead he could see both Will and the instructor. He could see them, when his eyes weren’t forced closed by the pain in his knee.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever done,” Will said later, when they were sitting on the panoramic spot, feet dangling over the edge. A smile was spitting his face open, darkness had already began falling. He was dressed in a bright orange suit, so that the instructor wouldn’t lose him on the track. Nico had little to laugh about, since he himself was in green. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

Nico managed a grimace. The huskies were panting, just a few meters away. The instructor had disappeared back into the hotel, soon Will and Nico would have to get going.

“Kayla would have loved this,” Will said, his voice softer.

Nico knew those eyes. They were the same he had in every photo with Bianca and Hazel, that love struck gaze brothers wore only when they were talking of a sister. So Nico asked about it, heart hammering in his chest. “Your sister?”

Will nodded. He never talked about his family, or at least not with Nico. He should have been a fool not to notice the strange atmosphere and gazes exchanged between Will and Piper. A part of him wondered if Will was falling for Piper. He wouldn’t be the first to do so.

“Yeah, the oldest. Kayla Knowles.” He shrugged, and took a deep breath. “Don’t you think it’s crazy, how we’ve lived alone for days, yet not talked about anything of our lives? Do we–do we actually know each other?”

Nico tightened his lips. It was not the time to talk about the mess they’d made, pain shot through his knee. “I don’t think we do.”

Will nodded. “Yeah. I thought so.”

For a moment, less than a second, Nico wished Will had fought him. He put his hands under his thighs, to avoid doing stupid things, like poking the mole under Will’s left eye, and bicker like only they did.

“This is the part where you start telling me things about yourself,” Will said. He put his chin on his bent knee, giving Nico a sidelong glance.

“Oh. Uh. Elysium. That’s my kingdom’s name. Ancient Greeks believed it was part of the Underworld, for a time. Black flowers grew on the shorelines, and it was so hard to reach them. Too many storms. I thought it was Elysium too, when I was little.”

“Isn’t your father also called Hades?”

Nico grinned. “Grandfather thought he was so funny, when he chose his sons’ names.” He cleared his throat, embarrassment darkening his cheeks even more when silence stretched. “Isn’t it your turn now?”

Nico thought Will mock him, at least a little. ‘Maybe I should tell you the story behind Texas’. Will didn’t, as if he understood how personal Elysium was to Nico, what a great thing it was to admit that, for a time, he’d been foolish enough to want the throne.

Will took a deep breath, his knuckles turned white where he was holding the railing. “I have eight siblings. Lee, Michael, Austin, Kayla, Jerry, Gracie, Yan and Victoria. Lee and Michael were older than me. Now I’m the oldest.” He sniffled, bringing his gloved hand to his nose. “When they–we didn’t live together. We saw each other during holidays, birthdays sometimes. The first year after Michael and Lee died, I didn’t know how to be the oldest. It’s different, you know? I always had them, and they were before me. If the youngers needed something, something clever, they went to them. I couldn’t bring myself to see the others, after the two of them died. I didn’t–I didn’t have anyone to go to.”

The breath was knocked out of Nico’s lungs.

Will chuckled. “I guess I overshared a bit. Sorry.”

“You didn’t,” Nico blurted, so fast Will whipped his head around. He cleared his throat, spoke with far more calm. “You didn’t overshare.”

“You sound pretty put out.”

“I was just thinking about what I wanted people to tell me, after I lost Bianca.” He tasted bitterness on his tongue, so heavy it laced through his words. “I can’t remember.”

“I don’t want you to tell me anything.”

“Yeah. Neither did I.”

Will put his head on Nico’s shoulder. His hat was cold, a bit wet with snow, his breath warm, even through all the layers. Nico leaned against him.

The others were waiting for them inside the hotel. Piper and Leo had managed to convince Jason to stay one more night, to sleep in an igloo room together. Nico had half a mind they would try seducing him. Percy and Annabeth would go to Paris, Annabeth wanted to see Notre Dame. She had never seen it in person. Nico recommended her to see the Dome of Sacré Coeur Basilica first.

“You were talking about Paris?” Will asked, sliding down next to Nico with a cup of hot chocolate in his hands.

Nico ignored that it’d been a gift from the instructor. Only for Will. With Nico standing right next to them. It seemed impossible for Will to go anywhere without having someone fall for him. It had to be the curls. Or the freckles. Maybe the eyes, always so bright and beautiful.

Nico shook his head, to get himself out of the trance.

“-there a couple of times, with my family,” Will admitted, nodding his head. He took the cup to his mouth, and grimaced at the first sip.

“Did the Hot Instructor poison you?” Nico asked. He knew it wasn’t possible, but at least then they’d have a good reason to send him to jail. Or at least never seen him again. He wasn’t so petty after all.

Will huffed. “It’s too hot.” A glint lit his eyes, as he looked at Nico through a thick layer of eyelashes. “Just like the instructor.”

Nico scoffed, crossing his arms. “Yeah, if you’re into bulky men that spend their days riding towards the sunset with huskies.”

Percy snorted. “Who isn’t into that?”

Nico bit his cheek. Annabeth caught his eyes, cocking an eyebrow. Nico sunk lower into his chair, tightening his grasp on the cup holder. Nico didn’t need to look at Will to recognize the mirth in his eyes.

“Anyway,” Leo said. “Before omo celoso here interrupted us, we were listening to a story.”

“You should really stop treating people’s lives like they exist for your entertainment,” Jason told him. Piper giggled, and Leo sent him a wink. Jason’s whole face turned as red as a tomato. Nico imprinted the memory into his head, just in case he ever needed to have something to tease Jason about.

“I was telling them about the time I went to Paris,” Will said. He grimaced. “We were on the Eiffel Tower when my Father’s girlfriend discovered he was cheating on her.”

“With whom?” Leo asked, eagerly leaning on the table.

Will and Piper both burst out laughing. “Well,” Will said, clicking his tongue. “I was eleven at the time. My parents, uh, they divorced when I was eight.”

“Just a quick note,” Piper said. “His oldest half-brother is two years younger than him.”

“Thanks,” Will said. He fixed his eyes on Nico, before dropping to the table. “Very helpful. Uh. So, we were on the Eiffel Tower, and my father’s girlfriend sees him passing the waitress his number. She goes absolutely mad, and she was right, really. My father’s a really lewd man. So she gets his phone, calls a cab for herself and orders a flight back to California. She finds the messages he had exchanged with his lovers.”

“God, that’s so disgusting,” Annabeth said.

“That’s not the worst he’s done,” Piper replied.

“Wait, how do you even know?” Percy asked her.

Piper sent Will a panicked glance, and he cleared his throat. “We were neighbors. Kind of.”

“Oh my God, isn’t that so cute?” Jason exclaimed, his eyes on Nico. As if he knew Nico was storing teasing material. As if this was his revenge. They knew each other well enough for it to be possible. “You two would have met through Piper!”

“So no one’s going to talk about the fact that we discovered it now?” Percy asked. He was ignored.

“I can’t believe we’ve been robbed of the chance of introducing them to each other!” Leo wailed loudly, gathering the attention of the other costumers. “We’d’ve held it over Nico’s head for the rest of our lives.”

“Holding something over my head?” Nico scoffed. “With your height?”

Leo hit him in the shins from under the table, making him hiss. He sent the hit right back, but hit the table.

“Jealousy’s taking your aim away, hombre,” Leo commented.

He was lucky Will’s attention was on Annabeth, or Nico would have used him to replace the table leg.

“I’m absolutely not jealous,” Nico hissed, trying to hit Leo again. He hit the table instead, a jolt of pain shot through his leg.

“You know, just because you’re prince doesn’t mean you can destroy the furniture,” Will chirped with a sickeningly sweet smile, using napkins to rub the spilled chocolate. “By the way, you now owe me a free chocolate.”

“You lost two sips at most.” Nico took a long sip of his coffee, the bitterness heaving on his words, not only his tongue. “If you want another, go back to flirting with the instructor.”

Will leaned closer, batting his eyelashes with a coy smile. “Maybe I’d rather flirt with you for another.”

Nico shoved him by the shoulder, a grin stretching on his lips. “Fuck off.”

They both laughed.

Will fell on the sofa next to Niccolò with a loud sigh. Before turning the TV on, he complained about his tiredness, his old age, the weather.. Niccolò didn’t say a single word, but his eyes were

“The house is silent again,” he said.

“Yeah.” Niccolò cleared his throat, looking away. He crossed his legs, looking like he didn’t know how to act now that they were alone. They would be for a few more days, so he’d better get used back to it. It was unnerving Will.

“I’d gotten used to having them around. Have you always been so close to your cousins?”

Niccolò grunted. “I wouldn’t say we’re close, even now.”

“You look like it.”

“Maybe we are.” He stayed silent long enough for Will to think he wouldn’t add anything. “With–with Jason. It’s more complicated with Percy. I’ve seen him much more than Jason, and we–I had–” He cleared his throat, but his hands were shaking, and Will wanted to wrap his own fingers around Niccolò’s. He knew the other wouldn’t like it, though. “He was already around when Bianca died. So. I took him out on him.” He passed a hand through his hair. It wasn’t very long, less than an inch, what with being cut short in the military.

“He looks at you like you are his little brother, though.”

“I hated it back then.” He nodded toward the television, before Will could do as much as thinking about asking more. “So, why are you on YouTube again?”

“I just realized I never got around to watching your eleven awkward moments.”

Niccolò groaned.

Niccolò was around fifteen years old. He held a scepter, or what looked like it. People all around were looking at him, cameras going off. He kept looking around, never keeping his eyes on something a second too long. Then, he mouthed at the King, and his words had been written as subtitles:

What was I supposed to do now?

The MC smiled at Niccolò. Niccolò nodded and smiled. Hazel talked, the MC responded. Niccolò looked at the crowd. Cheers and screams grew louder. Some people shouted his name. Others that they wanted to marry him. Niccolò grimaced.

Prince Niccolò: Great King of Shut the Hell Up

Niccolò got out of the car, walking toward the entrance of the hotel without paying much attention to the people screaming his name. That is, until someone shouted “Prince Neeks!”

It was a reporter. And Niccolò, disdain clear on his face, closed the button of his jacket. His lips were tilted downwards, his chin and nose all scrunched up.

“It’s Niccolò.”

Will was doubled over in laughter, half down the couch. Niccolò sat still, only a slight twitch on his mouth, not quite a smile. Not quite a frown either.

“So, how does it feel like to be the Prince?”

“Well. I’ve always been a prince, so. It feels like every other day feels.”

The reporter laughed. “Can’t say I know what that is.”

Niccolò nodded. The reporter nodded. They nodded at each other.

“God, this is such a torture.”

“You really do make everything awkward. I wish I’d filmed our first few hours together.”

Niccolò groaned from behind his hands.

“I would be a billionaire by now.”

“Nico say hi!” Came Piper’s voice from behind the camera. She was filming an Instagram story.

Nico looked up. He was sitting in front of a piano, a grimace on his face as soon as he took in the scene. He didn’t move.

Eventually, he waved. He sent a panicked glance to something behind Piper’s phone.

“Say hi!” Piper insisted.

“Hello.”

“Hi.”

“But I did!”

“You should’ve said hi.”

He hesitated. Sighed. Waved again. “Hi.”

“You have a beautiful soul,” a girl told Niccolò, holding her phone in his face.

His gaze was focused on something out of the frame, a grimace on his face. “Yours, too.”

The girl’s phone fell, her gasp alerting Niccolò that something was happening in front of him. From the ground, the camera still recorded.

“Sorry. You were saying about your sauce?”

Niccolò fell asleep a little after their third video. It wasn’t even half past ten, but he snored lightly. Will lowered the TV volume, put the red blanket with reindeers on him, and leaned back into the couch.

Niccolò was beautiful. He was beautiful under the sun, when the snow glowed all around them. He was beautiful in the morning, when he always stopped mid-stairs to rub his eyes. He was beautiful as Will watched him, with the blue light of the TV, the golden one of the fireplace, shining on the little pout he always wore as he slept.

The knot enveloping Will’s stomach tightened. He took the remote again, and searched for another video. He was met with his parents’ faces in the home. They were young back then. He clicked before he even realized it.

“Before Apollo’s new auto-biographic film comes out next March, we decided to take a walk down memory-line, with the evergreen love between Apollo and Naomi. Both young when they met, they had just become part of the music world. Their first single together sold millions of copies, enough to–”

So enthralled on the old family photos, Will didn’t realize Niccolò had awoken, and his hand had sneaked around Will’s wrist.

“So you are a fan?”

Will looked away from the TV. It was so strange, hearing the woman talk (gossip) about his family, and having Niccolò in the same room. Guilt fell heavy on his chest, constricting his lungs.

I’m their son.

“I–” His breath broke.

They are my parents.

“They –”

They are the reason I can’t look at you and think we could ever work, even if we fell in love and were crazy for each other.

“A fan, yeah.”

Niccolò smiled, stretching his arms. When he stretched his legs, he grimaced. “Yeah, I thought so. You looked pretty taken with Apollo the other day.”

Will nodded. “Yeah.”

“He has a sister, you know?” He yawned, his mouth opened so much his jaw could have dislocated.

Will nodded again. He knew. He had only met her on two occasions, his brothers’ funerals. If his siblings’ funerals were the only times they would ever meet, Will hoped to never see her again.

“I don’t like her,” Niccolò mumbled. His eyes drifted closed, and a second later he was snoring again.

Less than a minute, and his cheek was on Will’s shoulder. Dark hair brushed again his nose, and he took a long breath. Pomegranate. Niccolò tasted of them.

Will turned off the TV, and closed his eyes. He wasn’t tired, but he matched Niccolò’s breath. He slept.

Spotted!

Prince Nico of Elysium and his soulmate have been spotted being cozy in Livigno. Although their stay in the Italian city was made public days ago, clear photos of them hadn’t been released yet (go to gallery). The Prince’s sexuality has been subject of speculation for many years, with Cupid’s–stage name of famous pap–confirmation that he is, indeed, homosexual. However, it isn’t known whether the Prince’s soulmate might be homosexual as well.

The Royal Family hasn’t released any statement regarding the nature of their relationship, although close sources state have stated, that ‘The Prince is quite taken with a close friend of his,’ but the name hasn’t been revealed. Who between Nameless Soulmate and Nameless Friend will win the Prince’s heart?

Stay tuned to discover!

Latest updates:

Naomi to be featured in Apollo: between glory and reality

Is Tristan McLean’s daughter Piper’s new suspected sweetheart an ex Hollywood kid?

Apollo: between glory and reality, ten reasons to watch it

#solangelo #riordanuniverse #nico di angelo #percy jackon and the olympians #will solace #percy jackson #rick riordan #riordanverse #rickriordan #apollo

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svtausinapocket · 4 years

Text

Snapshoot | Kim Mingyu

Chapter 1: The Wizard Next Door

Pairing: Y/N (Female) x Mingyu

Chapters: 1/3 Words: 3,6k+

Alternative Universe: Hogwarts!AU, MagicalWorld!AU, Slytherin!Y/N, Gryffindor!Mingyu, Photographer!Mingyu, Cop!Y/N, Friends to ennemies to lovers.

Scenario: When you discovered your neighbor was a wizard as well, you couldn’t help but feel excited to go to Hogwarts with him. Unfortunately teenagers are stupid and somehow things won’t go as expected. But sometimes life gives you a chance to look back at your past mistakes, even if a murder is involved with your former crush as its only witness.

Warnings: Smutty (coming), Violence (murder, crime scene, fights), and that’s all. There’s links on selected words to help you understands magical words if you forgot them ;) You can read this fic if you’re not a harry potter fan!

A/N: English is not my first language so I feel kinda shy tbh. Anyway that’s the first chapter of a fic I started to write a while ago. I’m pretty sure almost no one will read it but still, I feel like I have to finish it!

Wattpad | Archive of our own (not yet)

***unedited***

Sitting alone at your table, you moved your eyes from your potion book to the red and gold robes before you. The N.E.W.T.s were arriving quickly and everything you could do to fight your stress was to study, even when eating in the great hall. All around you people were moving like shadows, barely noticeable for your unfocused eyes... Nothing attracted your attention. Nothing except for a Gryffindor guy sat meters away from you.

He was surrounded by his kinds like the eye of a cyclone made of red and goldish birds.

If there had to be a leader it would be him, you thought. Like the alfa of a pack but with an irregular chick on his side. Indeed, with time you’d seen a lot of random girls sitting next to him. First it was Mina, soon replaced by Seulgi and her twin sister. Then Mina again, followed by Alexandra, Prya, Sana, some other boring young witches and finally Mina again. But if he was now free from any of those girls, it didn’t seem like his role in the group was lessened.

Peacefully watching at how his eyes were gleaming of happiness when he interacted with his crew, you wondered when it happened. When did you both start to be strangers to each other? Because watching at the scene and realizing you were out of this, of his world, you felt like a voyeur out of their right.

Actually, you knew him since you were both children. Indeed, his parents had moved next door when you were six, and for many years you’d played together in the corridor or sometimes in the building courtyard during summer vacations. But when he had been sorted to Gryffindor by this stupid hat it was still a shock.

The boy you knew wasn’t made for this house. Since elementary school Mingyu had always been vicious and ambitious. In primary school, he had already used his magic to steal his classmates’ stuff, or just to bother them, even if he didn’t know yet he had magic.

At least you could say it’s what had helped you set your thinking.

In fact, he didn’t really know what he was doing but, on your side, you could clearly understand what was happening. He was a wizard. Just like you and your parents. Except that unlike the three of you he was a Muggle-born wizard.

You’d told your family about it, about all your suspicions. But no one had believed the words of a young kid. To people, Mingyu was just an unbearable kid with a tricky brain _which indeed, was also true.

And as if fate had decided to step in, one day your parents invited his family for dinner. And then the little Mingyu had seen. His big eyes had been sparkling with magic in front of the moving spoon in the kitchen. His mouth smiling once the little boy had faced the remembrall in your room.

—

“I want to see a dragon.” he used to say.

“What kind?” You’d asked. Sat on your room’s floor you’d watched him talk with passion about animals and how we thought it was his destiny to take a picture of a real dragon and show the word they were real.

“Are they ...different sorts of dragons?” He had slowed down.

“Sure.” You had told him, knowing perfectly what you’d read in your father’s book. “There’s different kinds of dogs. So why would it be different for dragons?”

“I don’t know. What dragon do you think would be the best in a picture?” He’d asked, his energy progressively cleared up by your question. Not thinking about it twice you’d chosen the only one you remembered.

“The Common Welsh Green I guess.” The little boy had stopped to sit in front of you, pouting.

“But it’s common isn’t it?”

“Maybe. But they’re slower so it’s easier to photograph them. Plus, one of those made London burn.”

It was only the childish dream of a guy who would soon realize how accurate were your words while all his school friends will believe that dragons are a legend.

—

And so finally, your parents had believed you. As the true kindhearted Hufflepuffs and protective wizards they were, it took them time to decide what to do with the young neighbor. Taking him under their wings was not even a question. But how to do it was much more complicated. In fact, Muggles were not famous for being open minded and flexible when their life was about to change. So, they just decided to use your friendship as an excuse to never tell his relatives before Hogwarts letter, and just show him what the magical world had to offer.

From that point, things became quite fun. After telling him what was happening, they showed him books, magical tricks and brought the young wizard with you to Diagon Alley. All of this just in order for him to not be lost when he would have to bring his parents there, and also know what to do when he will have to officially join the magical world you were raised into.

His parents actually took the news pretty well, and to be honest, it was mostly because your family made a big deal about helping the young boy in his coming out.

That’s why you were soon together in the Hogwarts express, on the road to becoming two proud wizards. You were happy.

Things could only go well. Right?

—

To everyone's surprise he was sorted to Gryffindor, and you were sent to Slytherin. It was a real shock; one nobody had anticipated. And while he was led to the Gryffindor Tower, you were walking down the stairs to reach Slytherin Dungeon. He was in the light and you were in the dark, becoming the black sheep of your Gryffindor and Hufflepuff family.

But something happened. Or rather than something, nothing happened. He soon had new friends and you had yours. And it appeared that none of you told people that you were neighbors and more than that; childhood friends.

It was like a silent agreement between both of you.

You never spoke to each other in the presence of your respective friends. Because more than being in the rival houses, it would have been a shame. Or at least your teenagers’ stupid brains thought so.

Indeed, he soon started to become really popular among your classmates due to his charms and his ability to socialize easily. Plus, his fuckboy image didn’t match with the calm and intellectual one you shared with your own friends. Maybe he had his reasons to avoid you, but you clearly had yours. You had to prove to people- and to yourself, that being a Slytherin in a red and yellow family didn’t make you less competent or valuable. That, on the contrary, it was making you a better person. You wanted to be the best and you worked for it.

Every day you studied so hard to be the number one. To be able to achieve your career dreams despite your S label. People had to think you were calm, studious and perfect. To perceive you as the type of girl who doesn’t have time for troublemakers like Mingyu and his crew.

So, after hearing how Chunhee and Seokmin had criticized him and his band, you’d decided to just stay silent about your relationship with Mingyu.

And he did the same.

—

But it was strange and really uncomfortable.

One day you were in the muggle train, heading to your hometown for the first time since the start of the school year. Everything was peaceful and calm. Christmas snow was falling on the London suburb, while Mingyu’s head had fallen on your shoulder. And just like the railroad, his breath was slow, relaxing and cadenced. He was taking a nap.

You had just supposed he had had fun with his friends the night before, so you didn’t say anything, reading on your own, but each time a person walked between the train sits, you were feeling your stomach twist. That’s when the lungs in your torso sighed loudly to expel the stress from your body.

“What?” Asked Mingyu, not as asleep as you thought.

During a second you stood silent before speaking. You felt how dry your throat was due to anticipation.

“Are you not afraid that someone could see us like that?”

“Afraid?” He started without opening his eyes. “Please Y/N, the train is almost empty. Plus, we’re in a muggle train, far away from the city, so we won’t run into one of our classmates.”

“Please understand me, but if a classmate sees us, I don’t want my image to be riddled by a slug, who salivate in his sleep.” You laughed.

“F*ck off. I know I’m not drooling. How could someone so perfect like me salivate in his sleep?”

Your snigger made his head move a bit.

As soon as this conversation had started, a silence had fallen on it. One of the unstable lights on your right switched on just to illuminate his delicate face. You were taking your time to look at him, at the black hair falling on his forehead, at those cute pink lips half-open, while your heart was pounding loudly against your rib cage.

“And in the worst case. Just imagine someone sees us. Who cares?”

You didn’t agree, because you didn’t believe his words, and for good reasons.

—

To be honest you perfectly remember when you became full strangers. You couldn’t forget the day you both decided to stop this farce.

“Y/N, is there something between you two?” Had suddenly asked Seokmin. You were sitting on the corridor floor, your eyes focused on your last arithmancy lesson. Last month you’d had bad grades at it and you absolutely wanted to improve so you could be ready for the O.W.L.s. Some drops were falling from your wet hair to the paper in front of you, drawing ink on the white sheet.

“Stop studying” your friend laughed while sitting next to you. “We just won our quidditch match against Gryffindor, you should be celebrating, not studying.”

“I know I know” you smiled while closing the lesson and contracting your fingers around it. “I was waiting for you. I can’t celebrate without you and Chunhee.” Even after taking a shower, you could still feel a mix of sweat and water on your skin. Your legs and arms were already aching due to the game. You were obviously tired. Indeed, the match became hard since Gryffindor had placed Mingyu as the Seeker and you had to admit he wasn’t that bad for a newbie.

“So. Tell me Y/N. Is there something between you two?” You frowned your eyebrows.

“Sorry, what?”

“You and Mingyu.”

At his words you felt your heart clench. Yes, there used to be something. Not that you would admit it of course, but still, it had been months since you two spoke to each other and you started to feel like he was avoiding you for no reasons. Maybe he’d grown tired of you. Or maybe he just didn’t care anymore. You fist tightened around the papers in your hand.

“No, of course not” you lied. It had become a habit to avoid the truth about it, and five years of lying had started to make it feel like it was nothing when it truly was a weight on your shoulders. Indeed, you were now fifteen, and thinking back at your arrival in Hogwarts you’d started to wonder if all of this wasn’t too extreme or ridiculous.

“Why?”

“I saw the face you made up there, when he was accidently hit by the Quaffle. I’m glad Steph caught it right in time and sent it back to you, because I swear you had the face of a girl ready to ask him if he was okay. Plus… when we danced together during the Yule ball, he kind of… stared at me weirdly you know.”

Listening to him, you’d blushed. Seokmin and Chunhee knew you probably better than anyone, and it made sense for them to realize something was off. Plus, this time, you were guilty and thinking about it just made the situation even more complicated.

One hour ago, you were still on your broom, flying in the air as easily as a bird would, just to make your Chaser job. For the first time in your quidditch experience the match was really tight. Your team and the Gryffindor one were already fighting for one hour under pouring rain. The seekers were flying hard to catch the Golden Snitch and you had felt how your classmates started to get tired of playing. Some already had had accidents and had left the game to be welcomed at the infirmary. Each new minute was making the match even more risky. And as if it was supposed to arrive, you’d made a mistake.

You hadn’t looked around you to make sure the area was safe and rushing to catch the soaked Quaffle you only succeeded in blocking Mingyu’s path. The ball having no effect on your gloves, you’d felt it slip from your grasp before the young seeker was hit in the face. He’d lost his balance, hitting your ribcage with his broomstick. But if you’d succeeded into staying stable, he hadn’t. You’d watched him being kicked out of the Golden Snitch chase with bitterness on your tongue.

It wasn’t properly speaking, a foul, but it wasn’t fair at all. Before you had been able do something stupid for your team, Steph had sent you the Quaffle again and you were back in the game.

Your team won. You knew it was because of this incident and hitting the wall with your head you cursed at yourself.

“Actually I-”

“Oh my God.” Stopped Seokmin. His eyes were no longer staring at you. “Speaking of the devil.”

You saw Mingyu arrive in the corner of your eye, and both of you immediately stood up. You’d never seen him like this before. He was fuming, his dark eyes staring at you with enough anger to make a mandragore shut up with only a glare. You felt your stomach twist.

“Okay, you know what I’ll just let you alone. I’ll wait outside with Chunhee.” Started Seokmin. “Please, don’t get killed okay?” Before you could say something, your friend had disappeared. What a chicken.

Suddenly your environment became hostile. The corridor you were in was too long, too dark and felt too isolated. The pouring rain outside the arena was louder with each step he was taking. He still had his Gryffindor Quidditch shirt, but with a huge thunderclap hitting the sky, the red and gold didn’t seem welcoming anymore.

“Mingyu I…”

Arriving in front of you he smashed your arithmancy papers with his hand. The sheets then crashed on the floor.

“Mingyu what the hell is wrong with you?!” You started while squatting down to pick them up.

“What the hell is wrong with me?! What the hell is wrong with you!” He yelled. Somehow you heard people arriving in the corridor on your left but didn’t bother to look at them. Anger was creeping in your heart and you couldn’t be distracted from it. You were now looking straight into Mingyu’s eyes, yours mimicking the fire burning it his. “Did you seriously think it was fun to hit me with a Quaffle?!”

“Oh, please stop it! It’s not like I did it on purpose.” You rolled your eyes when he stepped closer.

“Really?! I’m not sure of that. You’re a Slytherin after all.”

His rather beautiful eyes were narrowed in some infuriating crescents. Mixed with his sly smile and an obvious excess of confidence, his aura was making you beside yourself. You swear all you wanted at that moment was to punch this stupid Gryffindor right in his beautiful face. One minute earlier you were about to apologize to your_ obviously, no longer friend, but the douchebag he’d become had ruined everything. Again.

Now deeply hurt by his words all you could feel was the raging flame waving in your heart.

“Okay that’s enough.” you stopped, offended. “Do you… seriously thought I did it just for my Slytherin team to win?!”

“Why not. That’s what a snake would do.”

You pushed him with all your strength. Adrenaline had gotten over you and now you felt even more energized than before the game. His back hit the wall behind him, a painful grin deforming his handsome features. He probably hadn’t expected you to react so violently.

As it seems he’d become more than a jerk; his popularity had turned him into a coward as well. All he could do was attack you with what he knew would make you wince, what would make your feelings scream and what would break your heart. Years of friendship spent together to use your weakest points against you in the end.

“You fucking idiot!” You said with a dark shadow surrounding your body. He was now only centimeters away from your green and silver clothes, and your finger was pointing his chest with too much strength for a simple accusation. “When did you became so stupid to think I would do something like that?! Especially to you.” Now you no longer cared, rather it would reveal something about your true feelings for him or not. Indeed, your eyes were tearing from a mix of anger and sadness, exposing you to this guy you once knew.

“And when did you become so cold hearted that your parents would be ashamed to have a Slytherin as their daughter?!” He answered back. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Your fist crushed his jaw with enough strength to break his bones. He let out a groan. But before you could do anything to analyze the ache in your phalanx, Mingyu had made a move. Seizing your chest, he tackled you to the ground, your ribs hitting the hard floor with too much intensity for the already painful bruise you got earlier from your quidditch altercation. You let out a scream while automatically grabbing your ribcage as a protection.

If you weren’t full of rage you would have noticed how his expression changed from animosity to perplexity. Your eyes would have been able to see how he’d suddenly understood you were hurt too by the Quaffle incident. But the fury you were only saw an opportunity to fight back. Because the distance he’d put between your bodies to see you from afar was giving you the chance to kick him with your right leg. And so did you.

His body rolled to the side, his arms crossed in front of his face as a defense mechanism. Now that you’d stood up, you were ready to hit him again when a voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Alright kids, it’s time to stop.” Calmly said a female voice on your left. Before understanding the situation, you had been grabbed from behind by your classmates and moved away from your former friend.

In her Quidditch Gryffindor clothes their captain had arrived to stop the mess you were doing. She was standing there, arms crossed and looking at how you were trying to escape the hands stopping you from exploding. When Mingyu got up again and approached you, she stepped in. Diana was smaller than him but the hand she put between you two was enough to stop the young wizard.

“Mingyu. Stop. It’s your first match as the Seeker. Don’t make me say it’s the last one.”

The captain had spoken. At her words he stopped dead and looked at her, turning his angry gaze to the petite girl.

“She attacked me first with the Quaffle.” He tried to defend himself.

“No, she didn’t. It was an accident. We were all tired, it was raining. Things like that happen.”

“But...”

“No.” Turning in your direction she apologized. “Sorry Y/N.” And with her last words you’d watched them leave, Mingyu angry aura emanating from him until he was out of view.

If you’d managed to calm yourself after this fight he hadn’t. And somewhat he had managed to make you be forbidden from playing official matches for 3 months while he was healing from that punch in the face you’d given him.

—

Thinking about it you realized it’s when you’d decided to end this stupid friendship. That’s when you started to officially avoid him, not caring if he’d ever wanted to approach you again.

☂

Lost in your thoughts you haven’t realized he was now watching you too. Mingyu might have felt your stare, even if you had lost yourself into nostalgia. And when your eyes finally met you were surprised to see his neutral expression. You probably had blushed but were praying for him to be too far to notice.

Watching your open book again you tried to focus on your lesson but failed, knowing he was still smiling at your moment of madness. So, giving up with fighting the shame you’d felt for being caught staring, you closed your book and left the great hall.

☂

[6 years later]

The picture in your hand was taken far from the crime scene, but you swear you could see it clearly. Your fingers were trembling around the piece of paper the guy of the shop had given you and the cop you’d become could still feel her heart beat heavily in her chest. Indeed, the more your eyes were observing the snapshot of this young muggle, the more you knew it was him. It was clearly his face half hidden by a curtain and a long coat. Everything from this beautiful ruffled hair to the large hand holding the camera smelled like him. This guy was only a reflection on a window next to this damn alley, but you could feel it in your bones. Kim Mingyu was here.

And if the journalist he’d become was near a crime scene hours before the most popular murder of the decade, there’s no way it could be a coincidence. Damn it! You finally had a lead to bring back to the Ministry of Magic.

Excitement rose in your heart and you tried to convince yourself it was because of the investigation. Because there’s no way a long-forgotten frenemy could make you feel that excited, right?

A smile enlightened on your face.

Right?

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stclla · 3 years

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hello loves! my name is bri and i’m so excited to get the chance to write with all of your beautiful muses ♡ i just turned 24 (ew), my pronouns are she/her, and my timezone is est (luckily i live about an hour outside of nyc, and plan to move there permanently in 2021 yay !!!)

tbh it’s been at least a year since my last rp group and i’m a little rusty, so pls feel free to share your tips and lmk how i’m doing :) my writing style is pretty flexible and i match length, pov, etc. and now !! a little bit of info about my beautiful chaotic bby stella:

ABOUT.

estelle “stella” celestine evans was spotted in the fashion district adorning gucci ankle boots , with some airpod pros on . they’re most likely listening to heat waves by glass animals . you may know them as @stella or as that sydney sweeney lookalike . their twenty-second birthday just passed . while living in the upper east side , they’ve gained a bit of a reputation . they’re known to be reckless but on the other hand warmhearted . wonder if they’ll be the next person to hit the headlines .

BASIC INFO.

Full Name: Estelle Celestine Evans

Nickname(s): Stella

Age: 22

Date of Birth: August 4, 1998

Sun Sign: Leo

Moon Sign: Cancer

Rising Sign: Scorpio

Hometown: Beverly Hills, CA

Current Location: Upper East Side, NY

Gender: Cis female

Pronouns: She/her

Orientation: Pansexual

Political Affiliation: Liberal

Occupation: Supermodel, socialite, influencer

Career Highlights: Victoria’s Secret Angel, high fashion runways, print & editorial work, music video appearances, photography, art direction

Goals/Passions: Photography, art direction, fashion design, makeup, social media

Career Claim: Gigi Hadid

BIOGRAPHY.

When your mom’s a legendary supermodel and your dad is a smooth talking Hollywood talent agent, it’s safe to say that you were probably born with a silver spoon in your mouth. But don’t you dare say that shit to Stella Evans. Although she definitely enjoyed the finer things in life growing up and was practically gifted a spot in wealthy elite by her parents, Stella likes to believe that she did it all herself. And underneath it all - the glitz and the glam and the money and the flashing lights - maybe she actually did.

While this blonde haired, blue eyed beauty might be the spitting image of her mother with a few (okay, a lot) more extra curves, Stella tries to distance herself from her family heritage as much as possible. It started in kindergarten when she renamed herself. After all, being named after the notorious Estelle Evans doesn’t make you a lot of friends when you’re five. It makes you the subject of ridicule from your peers, and makes your teachers treat you as if you were the one posing topless in Italian Vogue. And when your mother made you model for a big Baby Guess modeling campaign at the age of 2, kids tended to talk. So she became Stella. Just Stella.

From then on, she did everything she could to separate herself from her parents. If her parents said to stay in, she went out. If they told her to get good grades, she failed her classes in retaliation. Their attention was all consuming, especially her mother’s. After the once popular cover girl had retired, she turned all of her attention to her daughter. Stella’s modeling work had been paused at the suggestion of her talent agent father, Arthur Evans. He wanted her to focus on school and get an education so she could take over the talent agency one day. But when Estelle and Arthur divorced when Stella was 10 years old, all bets were off.

Her mother hopped from loveless marriage to loveless marriage, dragging Stella along for the ride. Her father moved to the Upper East Side, vowing to see her at Christmas each year, while Stella jetted around the world against her will. 6th and 7th grade in Sweden, 8th grade in London, 9th and 10th grade in Paris. It was a long and lonely adolescence, but Stella filled it with booze, bars, and boys and girls to keep her company. Partying was her only escape. And she was damn good at escaping.

She had her first real relationship when she was 16. He was an older French financier who was content to spoil her rotten and show her a good time. Perhaps too good a time. Stella was introduced to the things that would become her vices - namely, drugs and alcohol. Her mother proved to be overbearing but oblivious. She would do things like criticize her daughter’s makeup, clothing, and body, but be completely unaware that Stella was doing things like snorting coke to get thinner. She’d call her trashy for going out to clubs, then look the other way when Stella would wear a short mini skirt when leaving for “study sessions” at the library. With Stella’s clever wit and electric charisma, it really was too easy. The drugs combined with the alcohol made her feel better because she didn’t really feel anything at all. Plus, if her parents hated partying, then Stella would learn to love it.

Shit hit the fan when Stella was arrested in France. Something about being an accomplice to international drug smuggling and being under the influence of a controlled substance - whatever. 16 year old Stella got off with a slap on the wrist due to her connections, promising to move back to New York with her dad until she was 18 and legal. The Upper East Side was her new home, and weirdly enough, she actually kind of liked it. It was easier to start over in New York, where no one cared about her washed up mother. But they did care about money, wealth, and excess, which Stella was more than an expert in, whether she liked it or not. This made her presence in the New York social scene almost magnetic. People would flock to her, drawn in by her ethereal beauty, effortless charm, and “fuck it all” party girl attitude.

Attention was a dangerous drug for a girl like Stella, who had spent her whole life freeing herself from her mother’s tarnished legacy. And when she had finally done it, had finally succeeded in making people call her “Stella Evans” instead of “Baby Estelle”, it made her wild with reckless abandon. All her new friends and lovers wanted to buy her shots and make her feel good any way she wanted, and it was only polite for Stella to let them do it.

The next few years were filled with exclusive clubs, raucous spring breaks, glamorous yacht parties, champagne kisses with boys and girls, social media notoriety, and juicy headlines that cemented her status as an it-girl. Her modeling career resumed with a promise to her father that she would go to college at the same time. Armed with a golden reputation, endless connections, and natural charisma and talent, Stella began to walk all the major runways and was in talks to appear in Sports Illustrated and Victoria’s Secret. Unlike her mother, she proved that she had both high fashion attitude and sex appeal. Stella was unstoppable.

Until she wasn’t. After a night of drinking and an ill-timed bet that she could parallel park her date’s Range Rover (despite the fact that Stella didn’t have a license to speak of), the police charged her with a DUI. This time, she didn’t get off so easy. Her father pulled as many strings as possible to keep her image clean in the press, but word got out anyway. Fucking instagram.

Faced with the threat of losing her big modeling campaigns, Stella agreed to clean up her image. Think rehab, charity work, inspirational interviews. The whole shebang. And it worked - kind of. It’s hard to navigate a world filled with temptation, but Stella doesn’t know how to survive without the glitz and glamour of the wealthy world. She dropped out of college against her dad’s wishes, officially surrendering herself to the New York social scene. Rich girls have more fun, anyway. But sometimes she hates it and wants to be “normal”. Even so, she knows that she never will be and embraces the beautiful chaos that her life of excess brings to her.

As far as rich kids go, Stella is almost down-to-earth. Kind of. She likes to think that she is, but she’s also the kind of girl who would never be caught dead on the subway. Or a taxi. Black cars and private jets only, please. Underneath it all, Stella wants (and frankly, needs) real connections in her life. People who genuinely care about her and have her best interests at heart are extremely rare, so when Stella lets someone get close to her, they’re with her for life. Her reckless, carefree attitude can definitely get her into trouble, so she can be a handful.

But one of her shining traits is that she doesn’t judge, at least not as openly and viciously as her peers. Stella’s life of wealth and status is definitely ingrained in her, but she is also openminded and accepting. Her friends don’t need to be old money. They just need to be real. You can catch her being the talk of the town in her native Upper East Side, but also vibing with the up and comers in Tribeca. Below the layers of superficiality and obsession with the finer things in life, this supermodel has a heart of gold. But don’t fuck with her. Stella is dangerous and defiant when she wants to be, and nothing can get in the way of her getting what she wants. Even if what she wants could destroy her one day.

*** her bio is still a wip and i’m working on some inspo for wanted connections, but definitely lmk if you have any questions or think stella would be a good fit for connections with your muses !

#wealthyhq:intro #i'm sorry if this is a MESS omg #so happy to meet all of you !!!

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vlovers19 · 4 years

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VMIN and SHIPPERS

Hey, was gonna post this as a question, but got a bit too long so I decided to put it in submit post instead. Would like your input on this though please.

So I was wondering why vmin isn't as popular as the other ships because lets be honest here, with no bias etc, out of all the bts ships, vmin has the highest possibility of actually being real. Then I realized. It's BECAUSE they have the highest possibility of being real.

People ship for many reasons, but what is common with shipping are shippers creating a narrative. They create this situation to make it seem that their pair is in a romantic/sexual relationship with one another. This gives them freedom to sexualize their faves in their fantasies. But with vmin you don’t really have freedom to create a narrative because v and jimin already did that for us. They’re soulmates and you have countless moments/songs/weverse/a shitload of stuff literally of them just professing their love for one another. This limits our imagination because it’s right in our faces and takes away the fun of shipping from others.

This can even go deeper into why jimin and v solo stans hate one another despite the two being so close. Because jimin and v together takes away fans freely being able to sexualize or imagine themselves with one of them. It’s like how fans hate certain celebrities significant other. Example: Adam Driver’s wife. People hate her cuz she acts as a reminder that Driver is taken and they can’t freely sexualize him or imagine being the one by his side without that constant reminder that it would never happen. Takes away the fun of it all.

Also, doesn't it kind of come across as a bit homophobic when people always dismiss them as just friends? "What a nice friendship", stuff like that after watching in your face romantic moments between the two. It kind of does for me but that's a topic for another day.

So again, would like your input on this please.

___________________________________

Thank you so much for this. Honestly, I like what you've written. I like it very much. I don't really have that much to say since you have embodied almost everything I have in mind but I'll just add a little of my opinion as you wanted.

If we take a look at Vmin's relationship from the very beginning, we will notice that so much has changed. Taehyung and Jimin are arguably the most popular members in Bts along with Jungkook. There are hardly people who aren't familiar with their names especially if you are into K-pop. Yet, questions lingers. Why don't people ship them? Why do their supporters hate each other? Why does their fans look for every slight opportunity to discredit the other even when they know their biases are best friends and soulmates. There are two main reasons. Firstly, they believe that Jimin and Taehyung really hate each other. Secondly, as you said, it's because there's a possibility that there might be something going on between them other than friendship.

If we pay close attention to Vmin, we'll notice that they often seem to grow with each other. They have good days, they have bad days. Anyone who has been in a relationship or have fallen in love with someone will know it isn't easy. Love is difficult. Mantaining a relationship is even harder. It can bring so much pain and at the same time so much joy. There are times when things don't seem to go well because it can't all be sunshine and rainbows. Everyday can't be as sweet as honey. We can't be happy every single time. Sometimes, we even ask ourselves; why am I still with this person even though i have other options out there. Sometimes, you fight and then you settle. Overall, it isn't perfect. That's exactly how I see Vmin. They aren't perfect. Like most ship these days who always seem happy, smiling, laughing when we know in reality it's not really the way the world works when you have something going on especially for people who have known each other for such a long time. They tend to have the vibe of an old married couple because you have lived together, you know everything about each other. There's nothing you haven't seen from each other. Bad attitudes, good attitudes. There's nothing that special anymore. Things may start to get ordinary and you can start to take the other person for granted. Things start getting a bit difficult. One starts to get tired and get tempted to create other acquintances which is why friends is like a hidden message from the two of them. The song shows that vmin aren't perfect. They have experienced everything that comes with knowing each other for a long time. The ups and downs. It is these things that can make them a reality. But people see these happening and they get nervous and attribute the things they do with them being friends because It's safer this way.

Despite what we see on camera about BTS bond, they have both acknowledge that their relationship isn't perfect and they still have a lot to work on. Jimin pointed that out during his recent interview. It's also things like these that make them seem more real.

Let's also take the Christmas song Taehyung wanted to sing with Jimin but got rejected for. Even with it's romantic lyrics, even after recording it with a girl, he didn't release the song despite telling us he would. Why? Isn't that suspicious?. Again, something that adds to the possibility. Taehyung doesn't show his affections much especially in front of the cameras. We hardly see it but when ever he does, he does it off cam and it's always significant.

Also, Jimin hyping Taehyung's songs so much more than he does himself. Winter bear got so much love from Jimin that he renamed it baby bear to suit his own taste, even going ahead to talk about the song in two separate vlives. Then coupled with all what has been happening since last year, there's so much possibility though there's no real evidence that they are in a relationship except with tiny things like this which makes so much impact than any PDA they can ever do. People see all these but once again choose to ignore it and cover the whole thing with their friendship. Since vmin has a strong label backing them called 'Friends' they don't have a problem hiding under it and thus, can do quite a lot and not get much attention.

Taehyung can post weird things about Jimin on social media and no one cares. They can hold hands for no good reason, call each other soulmates and everyone says it's because they are such good friends. No one wants to take it seriously because as you said, it takes the fun out of everything. It makes things serious and no one really wants that because we all want to believe we have a chance with either of them. When it looks like it might not be the case, the hate and attacks goes out to both of them. When this happens, only shippers would love and understand but solo stans will hate each other because they are destroying their fantasy as you said. This mostly happens to ships who people low key discover has a possibility of being real. However, due to their friendship, it also makes things a lot easier for the both of them especially since they both come from such a conservative and homophobic country like South Korea. It's more safer if people see them as friends rather than lovers. So despite them being so popular individually their ship is rather small and it's going to continue to be small. People are always looking for reasons to disbelieve what they see. Their bond, their friendship, everything about them being together. The mixed reactions and the level of denial so many have exhibited since friends was released puzzles me. Vmin clearly said they are soulmates. Why are people still trying to deny it? Why are they still questioning it? Why are they trying to lessen the value of the whole thing? If it where the other ships, it would have been a sure guarantee that they are dating but with Vmin, it's a totally different story. Personally, I'm happy it's this way. It's much more convenient. They can do things others can't do without receiving so much attention. I guess that's all. I have said quite a lot because of this ask because it really hits deep. Thanks for this once again and have a great day.

#vmin #jimin #taehyung #bts #park jimin #v #bts vmin #kim taehyung #bts v #submission

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tswiftrs · 4 years

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dear @taylorswift (and @taylornation), let us introduce you to TAYLOR SWIFT SERBIA 🇷🇸, one of your biggest fan clubs in europe! we made it with the intention that you perform in our country someday (but we also promote your music here and regularly update your serbian fans on everything you do). unfortunately, you never came to see us, so we were thinking - why not tell you and show you everything we’ve done these past 8 years, and who knows, maybe you like it and decide to visit us on your next tour. (disclaimer: this gonna be a long-ass post)

HERE. WE. GO.

TSS (as we like to call it) was founded in 2012, when a facebook page called taylor swift come to serbia was created. (fun fact: the two of us, who’ve been running it from the beginning, met on twitter literally a day before.) since then, we joined every social network you can think of:

these are some of our past profile pictures. as you can see, we’re a bit obsessed with photoshopping serbian flag colors onto your clothes 😂

since our goal has always been for you to come here, we made a dozen fan videos trying to get your attention. here they are:

serbia needs red tour - yeah, that ship has sailed, but we still wanted to show you this video so you can hear first-hand how much serbians love you. sorry for our english btw, we were all pretty young 😂

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this was also a thing at the time btw:

happy birthday taylor - we made this for your 23rd b-day but we still love it so much so here it is. (btw, we did a project for your 30th birthday as well, you can find it on our tumblr, you just have to stalk us a bit 😉)

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serbia needs taylor swift - you can find some cute tweets from serbian fans in this one!

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serbia loves taylor swift - in this one we tried to be extra creative. you’ll see what we mean.

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christmas tree farm (lyric video by serbian swifties) - this is our newest video, kind of a lyric video or a bio chain as the kids call it. it’s hard to explain, so just watch it!

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apparently we can only put 5 videos in the post so here are the links for the other ones:

all too well (lyric video by serbian swifties) - we asked our followers what their favorite song from red was (since it was your newest album at the time) and of course they picked atw. it’s still to this day a clear favorite among your serbian fans

taylor swift come to serbia - basically sums up everything we had done up until that point, just like we’re doing now

13 reasons why we want taylor swift in serbia - pretty self-explanatory

serbia needs wonderstruck - our very first video. i guess we really wanted to know how wonderstruck smells 😂 it never became available here though 😔

the video we were proudest of, however, was our shake it off lip sync video. we all dressed up in your merch, danced in our bedrooms, and sang our hearts out to what was then your current single. we sent that video to anyone we could think of, which unfortunately at the time included big ma*hine. they saw it, said it was “so cool”, and then deleted it for copyright. 6 years later we’re still not over it 😭 we promise it was the most beautiful thing ever and we’d give anything to watch it one more time… for reference, this is what it looked like:

you probably don’t remember but you once liked our post that had pictures of serbian swifties listening to lover. that is to this day our greatest accomplishment. you have no idea how many people you’ve made happy that day 💗💗💗

and we also must not forget that one time taylor nation liked our tweet:

further proof we’re awesome: your band loves us! we were noticed by kamilah, melanie, jeslyn, amos, and david (who was in serbia last year!!! ask him and we’re sure he’ll tell you the nicest things about us). we love all of them so much!

remember how we said we also try to promote you and your music here? well, we translated all lover and rep songs and the entire miss americana movie to serbian. (working on all the other albums and tour films as well!)

(all posters made by us. ignore the weird-ass names, that’s how they’re written in serbian)

this translates to: “at least i was never as bored as the person who wrote that huge article about taylor swift on the serbian wikipedia”. (and yes, that was us as well)

we’ve been so dedicated that the serbian edition of bravo magazine once declared us the most original fandom, and more recently we were nominated for best fan page by a serbian portal called famoza.

we also do fun stuff like giveaways and tss album appreciation week, during which we dedicated every day to one of your albums and just talked about how much we love them. we know you don’t understand anything that’s written on these pics but at least maybe you find them pretty 😂

during the coronavirus pandemic we’ve been very dedicated to sharing the “stay at home” message with our followers. we made this cute hand washing tutorial using “the man” lyrics, a tss guide to surviving quarantine (basically just watching every movie/tv show/performance you’ve ever done), and an ayhtdws cover with a twist: we changed the “stay” part to “stay home”.

so yeah, that’s about it. well, the most important stuff at least. really sorry for how long it was. if you ever read this, hopefully we didn’t bore you to death but instead made you wanna come and meet us. you have no idea how long we’ve been waiting for and how much we need to see you. we promise we’d be the loudest crowd you’ve ever heard. (no but seriously, we’re a very loud nation.) please, don’t make us wait any longer.

until then, all the love,

SERBIA ❤️💙🤍

#tss #masterpost #about #op

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belacoded · 4 years

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Fic Masterlist

Here is a masterlist for all of my fics sorted by fandom. This will be updated as my fics are updated. I never abandon anything, so even if it’s been awhile since I’ve updated something, it will be finished eventually. I also take prompts for all of these fandoms and more, and I’ll write for every ship.

Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell

SnowBaz Library AU: Completed 7/31/2020. 3,331 words. 3 works. Complete.

Alone at the Counter: Posted 7/25/2019. 1,925 words. 1/1 chapters. No warnings. SnowBaz. Summary: Every day at 2:40pm a man comes into the library that Simon just can’t take his eyes off of.

It’s a Book Club (Maybe Something More): Posted 7/31/2020. 998 words. 1/1 chapters. No warnings. SnowBaz. Summary: Simon and Baz’s first date doesn’t really go as Simon planned. Baz doesn’t seem to mind, though.

Baz to the Rescue: Posted 7/31/2020. 408 words. 1/1 chapters. No warnings. SnowBaz. Summary: Simon has been talking to this lady for twenty minutes. He has no idea who she is. Baz saves him.

Hush.: Posted 7/25/2019. 954 words. 1/1 chapters. No warnings. SnowBaz. Summary: “Shhh.” “I just-” “Hush.” “I worry-” “Don’t.” “But-” “Simon.” “Baz?” “Here.”

We Don’t Need to Wear Costumes: Posted 10/28/2019. 341 words. 1/1 chapters. No warnings. SnowBaz. Summary: Simon leaves before Penny can hide his wings.

As If Nothing Really Matters: Updated 6/22/2020. 3/? chapters. Warnings not used. SnowBaz, Penny/Micah. Summary: Five years after Simon, Baz, and Penny had saved the magickal world and Simon and Penny moves in together, Penny is moving to America and Simon and Baz are starting a new portion of their lives together. Of course, the world won’t just let them live in peace... [I outlined the plot for this before My Wayward Son came out, so it kind of ignores a lot of canon]

Panic! At The Disco

Panic! At Christmas Time: Posted 7/25/2019. 381 words. 1/1 chapters. No warnings. No ships. Summary: A really short story about Panic! in the early years during Christmas.

Filthy Pride: Posted 7/25/2019. 2,646 words. 1/1 chapters. No warnings. Ryden if you squint. Summary: A post-split Panic! thing I wrote based on the song Filthy Pride by Social Repose. It's not really a Ryden thing but I guess you can take it that way if you want.

I Don’t Know How But They Found Me

They Found Me series: Updated 10/27/2019. 7,233 words. 2 works. Incomplete.

They Found Me in 1981: Posted 7/25/2019. 7,017 words. 1/1 chapters. No warnings. Dallon/ofc, Ryan/ofc. Summary: Dallon Weekes and Ryan Seaman are the two members of the band I Don’t Know. Ryan has finally managed to get them a gig at one of their classmate’s parties, but Dallon’s not entirely up to it.

They Found Me in Costume: Posted 10/27/2019. 216 words. 1/1 chapters. No warnings. No ships. Summary: Dallon buys the first skeleton mask.

Harry Potter

...And They Were Friends series: Updated 7/10/2020. 102,506 words. 3 works. Incomplete. Description: How different would Harry Potter’s time at Hogwarts be if he had accepted Draco Malfoy’s offer of friendship on the Hogwarts Express at the start of their First Year?

Harry Potter and the Mirror of Erised: Completed 3/29/2020. 63,566 words. 19/19 chapters. No warnings. No ships. Summary: What would Harry’s First Year at Hogwarts have been like if he had accepted Draco’s friendship on the Hogwarts Express? How much would change?

Harry Potter and the Heir of Slytherin: Updated 7/10/2020. 34, 704 words. 12/22 chapters. No warnings. No ships. Summary: Harry has survived his first year at Hogwarts and all of the trials that came with it, but now his second year seems like it might be a little bit worse. Everyone is accusing either him or his best friend, Draco Malfoy, of being the Heir of Slytherin and attempting to purge the school of Muggleborns, but he swears neither of them are behind the petrifications. Book 2 of the “...And They Were Friends” series, in which I write how I think the story would have gone if Harry and Draco became friends instead of enemies in their first year.

Harry Potter and the Bonus Content: Updated 3/29/2020. 4,236 words. 6/? chapters. No warnings. No Ships. Summary: Extra features such as schedules and deleted chapters to go along with my series “...And They Were Friends”

Welcome to Ashland: Updated 5/31/2020. 4,184 words. 2/? chapters. Major Character Death. Drarry. Summary: Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter have known each other since they were eight, and they instantly hated each other. Of course, they met because they had to play best friends on a tv show, and after a while, they managed to become hesitant friends, and then lovers. Now, it’s been ten years since the show has ended and a lot has happened. Draco is doing promo for a new movie that’s coming out, which means talk shows. Talk shows mean reliving his past, especially his past with Harry. This is a story told through memories; some are happy... some are sad... some are funny... some are painful... but Draco is reliving them all.

Supernatural

Season 15 Destiel Codas series: Updated 10/26/2019. 1,149 words. 3 works. Incomplete.

Secrets Get You Nowhere: Posted 10/16/2019. 453 words. 1/1 chapters. No warnings. Destiel. Summary: Dean finds out about Cass’ deal with the Empty.

Real: Posted 10/23/2019. 255 words. 1/1 chapters. Major Character Death. Destiel. Summary: Some angst in response to 15x02. Dean finally realizes the meaning behind “We are”, but it might be too late.

Fake It ‘Til You Make It: Posted 10/26/2019. 441 words. 1/1 chapters. No warnings. Destiel. Summary: Fake it ‘til you make it. Those are the words Dean lives by.

Ships Are For Sailing: Updated 6/22/2020. 5,289 words. 3/? chapters. No warnings. Destiel. Summary: Just a Destiel high school AU without any angst whatsoever because I need to write something happy. This probably will remain ongoing and never end for a while. Maybe forever. I’m just gonna keep adding on more fluff.

Renegades - Marissa Meyer

Revolution: Updated 6/22/2020. 3,182 words. 3/? chapters. No warnings. Alec/Hugh/Simon, Hugh/Simon. Summary: Before the Anarchists and the Renegades were the greatest of enemies, they were one group working together to bring peace to the world and save prodigies from discrimination. This is the story of how the Renegades were first formed and then how the Anarchists split away from them.

PJO/HoO/KC/GoA/ToA

Coffee: Posted 6/23/2020. 929 words. 1/1 chapters. No warnings. Valdangelo. Summary: A Valdangelo college au based off that one tumblr post that’s like “my favorite college experience is when i had a 7am class and the kid next to me literally poured a monster energy drink into his coffee said “i’m going to die” and drank the whole thing”

Outer Banks

No One Follows It: Updated 7/21/2020. 2,036 words. 3/3 chapters. No warnings. JJ/John B, JJ/Pope, Pope/John B. Summary: “No Pogue on Pogue mackin’.” “That rule doesn’t make sense and no one follows it.” I saw a post that had this quote and basically used it to imply that since Kiara has already turned down the boys, if no one follows the rule, then the boys are all mackin’ on each other, so I thought I’d write a fic to go along with that.

Crossovers

A Hogwarts Story: Posted 7/21/2020. 173 words. 1/? chapters. No warnings. Harry Potter, The Night Circus, Teen Titans, Supernatural, Renegades, Heartless, PJO+, Lunar Chronicles, Carry On, Outer Banks, Good Omens, Merlin, The Umbrella Academy. All of the ships (all of them). Summary: I throw all of my favorite characters into Hogwarts and see what happens. The ultimate crossover. This is probably going to be a mess. There’s over 100 characters so far. And I plan on making every ship imaginable happen.

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