#I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can) is the only pure country song why isn't it an option???? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

floralseokjin · 4 years

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⤑ made-up love song i.

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher living with your best friend, and have never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual smut, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, not really much to warn in this first chapter, there’s some flirting, oc doesn’t want to admit she finds seokjin dishy, she’s possibly in denial that there’s a spark there, jimin and soobin appear 🥰 words; 11,028

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

You hated being late. Not only did you pride yourself on your impeccable time management but sleeping through your alarm always threw you out of whack for the rest of the day. You blamed the annual student reports that had to be written. No matter how organised you were, every year they seemed to sneak up on you and disrupt your prompt 11pm bedtime. You’d been still awake past 1am last night, determined to give each student the report they deserved. The yearly parent-teacher meetings were tomorrow (Friday) and Monday evening; it was officially the end of the school year countdown, which was ironically the most difficult time of the year.

No wonder your stress levels were so high lately. You felt like a ticking timebomb, wondering what on earth would set you off – because it was inevitable. This morning it could have been a number of things… Your inability to awake when your alarm went off, the fact your clothes were still slightly damp from insufficient drying time, your forgotten lunch still at home in the refrigerator, or now, your current predicament – you couldn’t find a space to park your car.

You always got to work an hour early, that way you had enough time to get ready for the school day before the student’s turned up and the teacher’s parking lot was empty. You had your pick of spaces. Today however, with just fifteen minutes to spare before class began, you didn’t have much choice. The spot that required you to reverse in between two cars, or the one that was secluded but came with a price – the sun’s hotspot.

You were stopped idly between the two, mentally making you decision while also damning this day to hell, when suddenly there was a thud and you jerked forwards, a gasp escaping your fallen mouth. Your hands had unconsciously clenched around the steering wheel so you ever so slowly eased up, straightening your back as you caught a look in the rear-view mirror.

“Oh, my god.” You breathed quietly, reaction time delayed greatly. Shock probably.

You watched as a black car – twice the size of yours and almost blindingly shiny – pulled away from the side of your vehicle, back into the space they’d just reversed out of. They’d hit you. You’d been hit. As if this day couldn’t get any worse. It wasn’t even 8am.

There was a clunk of a car door and then a man in a suit came hurrying into view, as fast as he could manage, a look of pure horror on his face. Still on autopilot, you felt your hand reach for the handle of your door, pushing it open to find yourself getting out.

“Are you okay?” The well-dressed man asked, panic evident in his voice. The very well-dressed man. His suit was a three-piece, black and white houndstooth. It looked expensive. Which just seemed to piss you off for some unexplainable reason.

You were fine of course, dazed maybe, the blow hadn’t been that serious at all, but that was besides the point. This man, in his very obnoxious suit (even if it did hug his body in extremely cruel ways) had not been concentrating. He’d reversed straight into your poor little car that was no match for his hefty thing. Your shock was shifting. In its place grew anger.

When you didn’t reply, than man carried on. “I am so sorry, Miss.” An annoying shrill sounded between you both. The cell phone in his hand. He ignored it – or at least tried to. “I really am. I was–”

He stopped abruptly midsentence, letting out a huff. Whoever was calling him wasn’t relenting. He picked up, talking quickly, an air of authority to his voice that caught your attention. “Kim Seokjin, speaking. Please can I – I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to call you back. There’s been an emergency.” A pause as the person on the other end of the line spoke. They weren’t given much time. “Thank you for understanding. Goodbye.”

The man – Kim Seokjin apparently – hung up, attention immediately back on you. “I’m just so sorry. Is there any damage?” He made his way over to the place he’d hit, just above your back wheel, crouching down, and grimaced. “Oh god.”

You followed, coming face to face with the black scratches that now marred the white paint of your vehicle. It wasn’t so bad, he hadn’t sped out of the space, but something had definitely scraped the steel, and again, that was beside the point. He’d still reversed into your car.

“The bike rack,” he muttered to himself. Your answer. He looked across at his car, brushing a hand through his hair. It stayed perfectly in place, pushed back above his forehead. He was a striking man, you’d give him that. Features made up of, what you could only describe as soft angles. Actually, thinking about it, he was pretty intimidatingly beautiful. That just made you angrier. How dare this stranger unnerve you with his good looks.

“What happened?” You asked hotly.

He looked up at you, taken back by your tone, but composed himself fairly quickly. “I-I was distracted for a moment, I didn’t realise–”

“Were you on your phone?”

“I’m sorry?” You looked down at the device still in his hand. On cue it started ringing again. He hit ignore straight away. “No, no. God, no.” He protested, shoving the phone into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He straightened up, head and shoulders above you. You crossed your arms and waited for his explanation, straining as tall as you could get. His cologne smelt amazing, you tried to ignore it.

“I was – I was trying to get the handsfree to work in this damn car and last time I checked there was no one there.” He seemed flustered. A far cry from the authoritative figure he’d been on the phone call. “I wasn’t thinking, I just backed out –” He stopped, as if he suddenly realised something. “Why… Why were you on stop directly behind me?”

“Excuse me?” You instantly got defensive, hands waving about animatedly as you explained “I wasn’t stopped, I was trying to find a space.”

You hadn’t been aware there was someone occupying the vehicle. No one left the staff parking lot in the morning so there was never any worry about somebody reversing into you. This was all on him. He wasn’t going to try and turn it around on you.

“I’m sorry, but do you even work here?” This school was small, he definitely wasn’t a teacher here, and you doubted he was a substitute. He was too well-dressed for a start. Who the hell was he?!

He looked momentarily confused. “Work here? No.”

“Then why are you using the teacher’s parking lot?” Your arms were folded across your chest again.

His eyes widened in horror, realisation setting in. “Oh no. I didn’t realise...”

“It’s signposted.” His mistake seemed genuine, but that really wouldn’t cut it. Because of his mistake your car was now scratched. You’d have to contact your insurance company and god only knows if they would pay out seeing as the damage was really only cosmetic, and if they did, it would probably take an age.

“It’s my first time dropping off my daughter at this school. I didn’t know where to go, and I was getting so many phone calls, I was just trying to…” He petered out, realising you probably didn’t care about his morning. So what? He was having a shitty one? So were you!

“There’s no excuses for this.” He lowered his head in apology. “I’m truly sorry and I feel awful.”

You found yourself softening. He did sound extremely genuine. You opened your mouth to reply, to accept his apology, but he spoke up again. “Let me sort this out. Money is no object. I can call my mechanic straight away and–”

“There’s no need,” you told him immediately, horror stricken.

“It’s really no problem.” He insisted. “Come on, if we wait for our insurance companies to sort this out god knows how long it will take. No, I’ll phone the mechanic I use right now and they can come and pick your vehicle up. It’ll be fixed in no time. You won’t have to pay a thing.”

“No, thank you.” Your anger was growing again. Irritation itching your face. Who did this man think he was? Money didn’t solve everything. Most people didn’t have that luxury.

“No?”

His bewilderment made you see red. “I don’t need your help or your money.”

You could be very stubborn when you wanted to be. You’d been told so throughout your life; family, friends, exes… No, you’d just pay for the repairs yourself. You’d rather wake up late for an eternity than take his money.

“But I did this.”

He really wasn’t getting it. “It’s fine, just –” You were interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone again. “You’re obviously very busy, just forget about it. It’s a few scratches.” You turned your back to him, glancing at your watch. You had just under two minutes to decide on a parking space and get to your classroom.

“Wait,” he called out.

“Goodbye,” you called back, rounding the front of your car to dive back into the driver’s seat.

“But – Argh!” You heard him let out a yell, his phone still shrilling loudly. He sounded frustrated when he answered. “Soobin, what is it?! Yes, I already told him I’m – What? He said they were…”

He became inaudible as you slammed your door shut, using his distraction to drive off – straight into the easiest parking spot available… You guessed your poor car would have to turn into a damn sauna for today.

After the morning you had you were thrown all out of whack. All day you didn’t know whether you were coming or going, your students seeming more hyper than usual and by 3pm you were ecstatic to see them leave. Your head was throbbing by the time half 4 rolled around, the final touches to your student reports complete at least. Not long after you trudged in the direction of your boiling hot car, stomach still queasy from the canteen slop you’d been forced to eat today and stress levels now barely manageable. Only one more day until the weekend, yet now you’d be forced to deal with finding an affordable mechanic with your free time.

You were still in disbelief over today’s events. That frustratingly handsome stranger with the concentration levels of a two year old and more money than sense. You scoffed to yourself, how dare he try to flaunt his wealth around like that. What had his name been again? He’d said on the phone… You couldn’t remember, your temper had been too distracting…

Whelp. You were having second thoughts… Maybe you’d been too harsh earlier… You hadn’t been overly rude at all, but you had been quite curt. He did seem genuinely sorry after all, and maybe you’d misjudged what you guessed was an act of kindness. After all, you had been on stop behind him, and while he should’ve double checked before backing out, it wasn’t all on him. You were both to blame. You felt guilty for not thanking him for his apology. For your preconceived opinions on him. You didn’t even know the man and there you were making judgements –

You stopped dead in your tracks as you got closer to where your car was parked, thoughts immediately interrupted. “What the –?”

Stopped in front of it was small towing vehicle, Park Esteem written along the side in bold orange font. A man rounded the corner of the truck, a clipboard in his hand as he looked around, presumably for the owner of the car he seemed so eager to tow. You. He was looking for you.

You jumped to action, breaking into a run. “Excuse me, Excuse me!” The guy with the clipboard looked up at the sound of your strained voice calling out. It was shrill as you came to a halt right in front of him, demanding an explanation. “What are you doing? Why are you towing my car?!”

“You’re the owner of this vehicle, Miss?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed in disbelief. “What’s the problem?”

He looked down at his notes, visibly confused by your reaction it seemed. “Uh, Mr. Kim has requested I pick up your vehicle and take it to be fixed for the damage he caused?”

Mr. Kim?! Who the hell was – wait. Kim Seokjin. His name came back to you instantly. He’d gone behind your back after you explicitly said you didn’t want or need his help. How dare he. And there you’d been feeling guilty for the way you’d treated him not two minutes previous.

“He said to be here at 4pm as you should be finishing work around then…” The mechanic carried on, voice softening, as if he was about to bear bad news. “I’ve been here for thirty minutes, Miss. I’m afraid I’ll have to bill him for that separately. Time is money after all.”

You checked your watch on autopilot. It was coming up to twenty to five. Shaking out of it, you straightened your shoulders, back to fighting mode for the second time today. “You can’t just take my car without my permission.”

The man grimaced slightly. “Well see, he’s already paid for the towage, and Mr. Kim is a very valuable and trustworthy customer.”

“Trustworthy?” You scoffed. “He’s stealing my car! I’m sorry but no, I refuse this…” You paused to think. “This service.” This was so absurd. Not only had this Mr. Kim totally disregarded your wishes, the towing of your car was incredibly over the top. The damage was cosmetic, everything was in fine working order. It didn’t need to be helped to the workshop. The thought of something so dramatic was infuriating.

“I’m afraid that’s impossible, Miss. Mr. Kim already paid for the towage upfront so I can’t actually do anything about it now…”

You stared at the man, telling yourself to take deep breaths. It wasn’t his fault. He was just doing his job. “So I have to let you take my car?”

He gave you a gentle smile. “I’m afraid so…unless…” He hesitated. “Unless you pay for the reversal…”

“And how much is this reversal?” Your arms were crossed for what felt like the hundredth time today.

You nearly keeled over when you were told the price. Damn that arrogant handsome man. Damn him straight to hell. Kim Seokjin, you would never forget that name now. What a complete and utter d–

“I’m sorry for the confusion, Miss. I was under the impression you knew Mr. Kim.” The mechanic apologised.

You found yourself softening. He had a gentle voice. A gentle face too. It was that conceited so-and-so you were mad at. You were glad you’d left the classroom late today, not many cars left in the parking lot which meant less chance of a co-worker seeing this embarrassment.

“So, I’m going to need to take your details now.” He continued, holding his clipboard out, sounding hopeful that you’d calmed down. “Just so I can arrange drop off at your address tomorrow.” You nodded slowly, watching him stretch out a hand. “I’m Jimin, by the way. Park Jimin from Park Esteem Car Services.”

You shook it, introducing yourself automatically. “I’m Y/N.”

He gave you a dazzling smile. “Lovely name. How do you spell that?”

Ten minutes later your poor car was hooked up to Jimin’s truck, ready to go, just as a sleek black car with tinted windows pulled up alongside you. Out rushed a tall young man. He looked a little frazzled as he straightened out his suit jacket but smiled your way. “Hello, are you the owner of this vehicle?”

“Yes,” you replied rather woodenly. What fresh hell?

He smiled wider, outstretching his hand. “Hi, lovely to meet you. I’m Mr. Kim’s personal assistant, Mr. Choi, but you can call me Soobin.”

You completed your second handshake of the day – two too many and introduced yourself too. Inside you had a million and one questions. It began with ‘Why was his personal assistant here?’ and ended with ‘When would this day finally be over?’

“I’m so sorry I’m late.” The young man – Soobin – apologised. “Things have been incredibly hectic at the office today. I’m so glad you’re still here.”

Jimin appeared by the side of you then. “Hi, you work for Mr. Kim?” Soobin nodded, tilting his head in curiosity. “Well, there have been a few misunderstandings this afternoon. Mr. Kim said he knew the client but she really has no idea who he is. Other than he was the one who hit her car.”

Soobin grew flustered, bumbling over his words. “Oh, well, um…”

“It’s fine,” you shook you head, not wanting to put the poor boy in an awkward position. This Mr. Kim seemed to like passing the buck onto innocent people.

Jimin nodded. “Maybe just let your boss know that next time he should probably inform the person whose car he’s having towed…”

Soobin laughed then, making light of an awkward situation even if it was forced. “Sure, sure.”

“Okay, well, nice meeting you,” Jimin turned to you. “I’ll have this done by tomorrow, shouldn’t take too long, there’s not much damage at all.” You had the sudden urge to apologise for wasting his time but you stayed quiet. “You said you’ll be home by 7pm?” You nodded. “Great. Someone will drop it off shortly after that.” He tapped the side of his truck and smiled. “Have a lovely rest of your day, Y/N.”

“Thank you, and you.” You waved him off – waved your car off too as Jimin started to drive and it disappeared into the distance, then you turned your attention back to Soobin. What was he doing here?

On cue, he began to explain. “So, Mr. Kim is giving you a temporary loan of one of his cars for the time being, as apology and, well, a gesture of good faith. He really is awfully sorry about this morning.” There was silence as you made sense of his words. “The tank is full, no need for any expense on your side.”

You forced yourself to speak. “Wait, hang on, he’s loaning me his car?”

“One of them, yes,” Soobin smiled. One of them. How many did this man have? “He really doesn’t use this one, so don’t feel like you’re an inconvenience, it’s really no bother at all.” He pulled the key fob out of his pocket and handed it to you with a kind but awkward smile. “Here.”

“So… I’m just riding his car home?” You’d told Jimin you’d call your best friend to pick you up when he’d offered you a ride home. You could still very well do that, but refusing this young man just seemed plain mean. After all, he had driven here despite a busy schedule. You didn’t want to waste his time. Poor boy was just doing what he was told, this Mr. Kim’s dogsbody.

“Yes,” Soobin nodded, looking a little confused now. As if he was wondering why you weren’t understanding what he was saying. “Oh, wait,” he suddenly remembered, pulling a piece of paper (cream wove) out of his breast pocket. “Here’s a contact number for him to arrange the pick-up of the vehicle tomorrow evening. It might be me, but it depends on my schedule.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, still a little dazed, looking down at the number. You folded the paper and dropped it into your purse, suddenly realising something. “Wait, how are you getting home?”

“Hm?” He wasn’t expecting that question. “Oh, subway probably.”

You anger flared once again. “So this Mr. Kim instructs you to ride one of his cars to my place of work, loan it to me and then expects you to just walk to the subway station?”

Soobin blinked slowly a couple of times, hearing the attitude in your voice. “Well, when you say it like that you make it seem…bad. Your tone...” He shrugged and then gave a small laugh that wrinkled his nose. “I’m happy to walk, you know, exercise, get that blood pumping…” He finished with a few nimble stretches just to emphasise, before looking comically aghast. “Sorry. Ignore my unprofessionalism.”

You jerked your head towards the car. “Get in.”

His mouth hung open in confusion. “What?”

“I’ll give you a ride home. Do you live far?”

“Not too far, Miss.”

He waited for you to get into the driver’s seat and then followed quickly, getting in beside you. He couldn’t have wanted to walk that much then... “Call me Y/N.” You told him with a kind smile. “I don’t like all this professionalism. Besides, I get called Miss all day, every day. It gets tiring after a while.”

He nodded dutifully in reply, back straight.

You were on pins driving all the way home, eager to drop Soobin home so you could let go of your composure. This car was way too nice for you. Why did this stranger trust you with it?! His car. He didn’t know you. You could be the worst driver in the world for all he knew. You weren’t, but you could be.

After you’d pulled up in your driveway you stayed there for a few minutes, needing some silence, just to calm yourself down, because you knew soon enough you’d get bombarded with questions. Sooner than you thought actually, because there was your front door ripping open, your best friend and roomie, Soojung, rushing out. “What is going on?” She demanded as you pushed the car door open. “Taken up car theft in your spare time?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you sighed, already trudging to the house.

She followed behind closely. “Um, you’re talking about it alright. You can’t just park up in a car worth more than both our salaries a year and expect me to not bat an eyelid.”

You scoffed at her dramatics, hanging your purse over the coat rack. “It’s not worth that much.”

“Y/N, I mean this with the least possible offence, but you know absolutely jack shit about cars.” You had no time for a comeback. “Now tell me where the hell did you get that car?!”

After the third degree from Soojung for over an hour, you managed to shut her up with an in depth description of your car thief (as you were now calling him), which included in no particular order: what he looked like, his estimated age, his outfit and how rich you thought he was. You insisted you were in no way bothered by any of these factors and you were only humouring her for some much needed peace and quiet. She spent the next ten minutes begging you to call him and put him on loudspeaker so she could hear his voice, but you outright refused. You were not calling him tonight, you couldn’t trust yourself not to raise your voice. It could wait for tomorrow, when your first round of parent-teacher meetings were over and you had your own car back in your driveway. Mr. Kim could wait for his, it was the least he could do after all the trouble he’d caused today. You bet he had another six cars anyway – one for each day of the week.

Soojung made you both a late dinner and not long after that you crawled your way to bed, exhausted and not at all mentally ready for tomorrow. You did wake up ten minutes before your alarm though, which you chose to take as a good sign, remembered your lunch too, and you hated to admit it, but your loaned vehicle drove like a dream once you weren’t so scared of accidentally careening it off a cliff, or something equally as impossible.

You day actually went by without a hitch. All the children were well-behaved, much more subdued than yesterday, but maybe that was because your stress levels had rapidly decreased with the positive signs from this morning. They had raised a little when Mrs. Jeon from third grade had enquired about the new car she’d seen you driving into school, but after giving her a very much condensed version of yesterday’s events you both had a little laugh together, where she then proceeded to joke around and tell you that you shouldn’t give the car back… or at least you thought she was joking… However, other than that, the school day breezed by.

Better yet, all the parents scheduled for meetings today were on time, and despite the rush end of year reports brought, you genuinely did love the opportunity to talk with your students’ parents one on one. You’d been teaching the first grade at the same school for over seven years now and despite the ups and downs being a teacher brought, it really was the most rewarding and fulfilling job. Especially at a school like this. This place was like a home to you, all you had ever known, and your students meant the world to you. Each and every one. Class sizes were always small at Primrose Hill, and that always made your connection with the kids even greater.

There was always a sadness in your heart when May rolled around, the school year nearly over and you had to get ready to bid goodbye to the children who’d been a part of your life for over nine months. Of course, come September you would greet a new class of students once again, but it was always so bittersweet…

It was just gone half past six now and you were waiting on the last parent of the evening. 5/6 parents on time was still a success. Hopefully Monday you would see full marks. You were waiting on the father of your newest student, Kim Arin. She’d only been with you two months, and it was very unusual that a child joined you so late into the year. You didn’t know all the details, but it seemed that her parents were divorced and she’d recently moved to live with her dad. You liked Arin, she was a sweet little girl, quite timid at times, especially in the beginning, but that was to be expected of course. It was always nerve-wracking to start a new school. She’d gradually come out of her shell, made friends and she was incredibly gifted in storytelling for such a young age. In a few years, if she kept it up, who knew what she’d be creating. You couldn’t wait to tell her father that. You’d grown very fond of her very quickly and you would definitely miss her come September.

“Come in,” you called, a knock on your classroom door breaking you from your thoughts. Your back was to the entryway, preoccupied with collecting Arin’s report and classwork on your desk, so you didn’t see who entered, although presumably it was her father.

“Oh, hello again.”

You froze at the sound of the voice. That voice. Why was it so familiar? Why did it get your hackles up? As if you needed to prepare for a fight– Oh.

You turned abruptly, eyes wide as you came face to face with the car thief. What on earth was he doing here? Had he come to collect his car?! Maybe you should’ve rung him last night, but it seemed a little unbelievable that he was chasing this up so keenly. You weren’t the thief in question. He was. How insane was it to track you down like this. Who had given him your name? Who had told him what class you would be in? Surely it was forbidden?

“If this is about the car business, we’ll have to sort it out later on, I’m expecting a parent of a student any minute now.” Straightening your back you held eye contact. He was very amused, eyes twinkling as he smiled at you, cheeks rounded. It made you feel slightly unnerved, but by damn had you forgotten how infuriatingly handsome that face of his was. Jerk.

He held up his hand slightly and laughed. “I’m the parent in question.”

“What?”

You stood there limply like an idiot, blinking slowly as you tried to mentally put the pieces together. Kim Arin. Mr. Kim. Kim Seokjin, the arrogant, money can solve everything so-and-so was Arin’s father? Great. Absolutely gr–

“You’re Miss. Y/L/N?”

“You’re Arin’s father?” It was obvious by now, but maybe there was that 0.001% chance he’d gotten the wrong classroom. Maybe.

“Such a small world,” he grinned, all hope lost. He held out his hand for you to shake. “It’s nice to officially meet you.”

There was a teasing to his tone, it got you pissed again, but you had to take it. You were in a professional setting now, you were his daughter’s teacher. His hand was warm, soft, grip gentle. Maybe you squeezed too hard, maybe he didn’t notice. “Please take a seat, I won’t be a minute.”

Your tone was clipped, unable to sound at all breezy like you had with the other parents, and you turned back to your desk, rifling through more papers even though you had everything you needed. In all honesty, you just needed some thinking time. Get through this twenty minute meeting, you told yourself. Pretend like he wasn’t the man who hit your car and then got it towed a few hours later. You could do it.

You felt him take the seat behind you, amusement still strong as he asked you a question. “So, are we just going to pretend yesterday didn’t happen?”

You collected Arin’s work and rounded your desk, taking a seat directly in front of him, careful to keep your expression neutral. “Right now’s not the time to discuss personal matters. Let’s just wait until this is over.” Twenty minutes and then he’d have it. He wouldn’t be smirking then.

Although surprisingly, immediately after you said that he grew serious, nodding his head in agreement. “Of course. My apologies. Sorry I was late, by the way, I couldn’t escape the office.”

Taken back by his sudden change in demeanour you shook your head. “It’s fine.” You weren’t expecting it to be so easy, but he listened.

“So,” he prompted when you didn’t follow up with anything. “Should we get started?”

You jolted, unaware you’d been lost in thought and silently cursed yourself. He was going to think an idiot was in charge of teaching his daughter. Not that it mattered what he thought, but still, you needed to snap out of it. He was here to talk about Arin and as her teacher you had plenty to say.

Seokjin was highly focused throughout the whole meeting, taking on bored everything you had to say with earnest. He wanted to know how his daughter was getting on at her new school and was interested in all the work she had completed in the short amount of time she’d been here. He didn’t have to, but he gave you a small explanation about why she’d had to switch schools so late into the year, and even though you already knew it was because she’d moved to live with him, you stayed silent, letting him carry on. He sounded so genuine, so worried about what the move could’ve done to Arin’s education and mental health that it ended up touching you. It was visibly obvious how much he loved and cared for his daughter and that was refreshing to see. A lot of the time it was the mothers who attended these parent-teaching meetings, you rarely had the chance to speak to the dads, so you did relish in this opportunity, discussing Arin’s talent in creative writing in depth, showing Seokjin the collection of short stories she’d written, and giving him tips when he asked on ways she could improve.

That would come with age, you said, but there was one small thing she may want to stop now rather than later. Her most recent story, a beautiful and creative fantasy piece that she unfortunately ended with the ‘it was all a dream’ trope.

“What’s wrong with that?” Seokjin asked. You instantly sensed that his defensive was up. It made you smile as you gave a slight shrug.

“Nothing per se, it can just be a little cliché. There’s much better ways to end a story.”

“Sure, but she’s only 6. It can’t be that serious?”

Your smile grew. “I understand that, Mr. Kim. Like I said, Arin is truly gifted for her age, it was just a pointer that you asked for.” You wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise, but he seemed thoroughly into this discussion now.

He tilted his head in thought. “What if it was the legitimate ending of a story? There’s obviously famous novels with such conclusions.”

Amused, you mimicked him. “For instance?”

“Hm?”

That caught him off guard. “What novels? Name me some.”

His eyes grew comically wide at your request, and just as you suspected, he couldn’t answer. He chuckled, looking a little embarrassed. Was that a little colour on his cheeks? “You’ve put me on the spot.”

You were both so engrossed discussing Arin that the time seemed to fly by. It was near to 7pm by the time you wrapped things up, and you’d enjoyed yourself so much you almost forgot you’d made a deal with yourself to start chewing Seokjin out the moment it was all over. He ever so kindly reminded you.

“You know, I was expecting a very angry phone call last night. I was quite surprised when it never came.”

Both of you were now stood up, your desk still between you. Seokjin held copies of Arin’s stories that you’d given him to read over in his free time and you with nothing to fiddle with, folded your arms across your chest. Ah, here we go again. The playful lilt to his voice back from earlier, that infuriating smirk too.

He was dressed in a much less flashy suit today. A simple slate grey two piece, his dark hair styled against his forehead, the smallest peek of forehead visible. It made him appear younger – not that he looked old anyway. Your guessing was mid 30s maybe, but this hairstyle made him appear softer. The faintest of lines around his eyes provided the slightest of giveaways, but then again, you only noticed them because you were searching for any clue to his age. His hair was still thick and dark and it definitely didn’t look like he dyed it. His body was… hm, he was built well. He certainly seemed to look after it. Not that you were looking, of course.

You could definitely see the resemblance between him and Arin. Their eyes were the same almond shape, both deep brown in colour, and while their noses were slightly different, Arin’s cheeks obviously rounder, their plump lips were uncanny.

Despite very much in thought, you kept your expression unreadable, nose in the air as you replied. “Perhaps I was too mad for words.”

He raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. If they were natural, life was incredibly unfair. “And now?”

“It would be unprofessional of me to start yelling at my place of work.”

“You want to yell at me?” His eyes twinkled with silent laughter. It was obvious he was holding it in.

You were glad he found this funny because you didn’t. No matter how much he’d impressed you as a father it still didn’t change yesterday. “You had no right just stealing my car like that.”

He scoffed. “It was hardly stealing. Who steals a car to pay for the damage he caused?”

“I didn’t want you to pay!”

He still looked baffled by your stubbornness. “That’s just absurd.”

“You’re calling me absurd?”

He sighed. “Of course not.” He was getting flustered now, similar to yesterday. It was funny to watch. “I just…” He trailed off, catching the grin on your face. “You’re enjoying this.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, I love a complete stranger backing out into my car to then subsequently steal it from right under my nose.”

He eyed you hesitantly. You knew he couldn’t tell if you were joking around or not. Your words and posture said no, but your eyes and lips gave it away eventually. “We’re still on this stealing business?” He paused, lips quirking. “Besides, I’m not a stranger. I’m your favourite student’s father.”

You laughed in disbelief. This man was so full of himself. “I’m a teacher, I don’t do favouritism.”

“Oh?” He seemed sceptical.

You shook your head, he really was unbelievable, but you couldn’t stop the smile that creeped its way to your mouth. “If that’s all, Mr. Kim.” You pointed to the door. It was getting late now, your car should be getting dropped off soon too.

He chuckled as he started to make his exit, you following closely behind. When he stopped abruptly, turning back, you weren’t expecting him to be so close. You could notice the beginnings of stubble growing above his top lip, a sure sign you were in too close a proximity.

“She likes you a lot.” He murmured, serious once again. You wished he’d stop doing that. Was he an obnoxious rich jerk, or a caring, hardworking father? You would have gone with the former right before this meeting, now you had no clue. Maybe you’d gotten him all wrong. That would teach you for judging a book by its cover…

“Arin,” he added, as if it wasn’t obvious. “She’s always speaking about you when I ask how her day went. You’re her favourite ever teacher.” He grinned then, laughing, amused by himself.

You groaned. “Stop trying to guilt me.” He laughed harder, throwing his head back. Was all that true? Arin talked about you? You were her favourite teacher? Or was he just making it up for reaction? You didn’t ask.

“Although, I will say it’s nice to put a face to the name now.” Maybe you didn’t need to ask. “Just wasn’t expecting it to be the woman whose car I drove into yesterday morning…”

No, neither were you.

“I really am sorry about that.”

He sounded nothing but sincere, you couldn’t not accept his apology, despite being still annoyed by what he had done afterwards. “You keep saying.” You gave an accepting sweep of your hand. “Let’s just forget about it, accidents happen, right?”

“Right.” He gave a quick nod of his head, followed by a shrug. “…aand I guess you were parked behind me so…”

You opened your mouth to refute such a claim but his laughter was so loud, so unlike his outer appearance, if that made any sense, (all high-pitched and squeaky almost), you were dazed for a moment, couldn’t help but join him – quietly so, but it was something. This man obviously thought he was hilarious.

He opened the door, hand resting on the handle as he spoke again. At this rate the janitor would appear for his shift and you’d still be here talking to Seokjin. “Listen, I can’t find anyone to pick up my car tonight so how about tomorrow? Is that okay for you? You can give me a call in the morning and we’ll arrange a time suitable.”

Oh yes, you’d forgotten all about that. Too distracted. By what? Him? “It’s fine. I can drop it off myself tomorrow.”

He raised that perfect eyebrow again. “You can?”

You gave him an affirmative hum. Why was that so surprising to him?

“How will you get home?”

Shoot. “Subway,” you thought quickly.

“Are you sure?” He looked even more surprised, was about to suggest something else it seemed, until you spoke again.

“Saves that kid wasting his weekend.”

“Kid?”

“Soobin.” No doubt he’d be the one to pick the vehicle up, being Seokjin’s personal assistant after all. You needed one of those. They could mark the children’s homework and plan your lessons…

“Oh. He really wouldn’t mind,” Seokjin reassured.

“Really?” It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. Both of them actually, but they weren’t as devastatingly shaped as his. That reminded you, you needed to get them threaded again soon. “Poor boy was about to trek to the station yesterday before I offered him a ride.”

“You took him home? He didn’t tell me that.” Seokjin sounded surprised.

“I wasn’t going to let him walk after he went to all that trouble for me.”

He nodded in understanding. “You’re very kind.”

You felt a little panicky, unable to read his reaction very well. “He won’t get into trouble?” You couldn’t see why he would, but you never know.

“No,” Seokjin laughed. “Is that what you think of me?”

You shook your head. “Of course not, I was just…” You stopped, unsure what to say.

“I wonder what you do think of me,” he pondered, voice low, lips curled.

“I don’t think it really matters what I think of you.” You replied cryptically.

He liked that, chuckling softly. “Can’t a guy be curious?” You remained tight lipped. “My employees love working for me, for your information.” He added. Maybe as damage control, who knew.

You rolled your eyes for the second time this evening. “You’re very full of yourself, Mr. Kim.”

“Please, call me Seokjin,” he requested.

You nodded, but you still didn’t think you were at that type of pleasantry yet. You could think of him as Seokjin but to say it aloud felt wrong almost, you didn’t know him. Thinking about it, it wouldn’t really matter come tomorrow anyway.

You watched him pull out a small notebook and an expensive looking pen from his inner jacket pocket, holding the copies of Arin’s stories under his arm as he used the door for support to write his address down for you. Ripping out the page perfectly, he passed it to you with a smile. “Drop the car off around 3pm. I should be long done at the office by then.”

He was working on the weekend? He certainly was a busy man. Who looked after Arin while he wasn’t there? These curiosities you had couldn’t very well be asked, not unless you wanted to appear nosey and overstep the mark…

“Okay,” you replied. “Then we arrange repayment.”

“Repayment?” He looked bewildered. “You’re not paying me back.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.” His tone was stern. You could be sterner, you were sure of it.

“I am.” You insisted, staring him down. “The mechanic informed me yesterday that you’d be charged separately because he had to wait an extra half hour.”

“Oh, that.” He shook a hand. “I knew that might happen because I was uncertain when you finished work. It’s really no bother.”

No bother? Was this man adamant to hear you raise your voice? “I’m paying you back.”

He feigned confusion, teasing you. “I don’t think you are.”

“I – Look, we’ll sort this out tomorrow.” You’d be here arguing until Monday otherwise.

He scoffed. “There’s nothing to sort out.”

You shot him glare. It was a warning. Tomorrow you’d let him have a piece of your mind if he continued to refuse. You didn’t think he took it seriously.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t just sit here and I say he wasn’t flirting with you.”

“He wasn’t.” You were adamant. Soojung had made you relay your whole conversation with Seokjin as soon as you’d let slip this evening’s revelation. You were regretting it now. You were trapped on this couch forced to listen to her insane claims. There was no way in hell that man had been flirting with you.

“You were definitely flirting back.”

You felt yourself flush, voice raising as you insisted that she was wrong. “As if.” She shot you a look that told you she didn’t believe a word. “He’s rich and arrogant.”

She laughed. “You say rich as if it’s a bad thing.”

It wasn’t a bad thing, it just wasn’t your thing, but if rich made him smug and think he could throw his money around when you’d explicitly stated you didn’t want him too, then yes, it was a bad thing.

“I wonder how loaded he really is…” Soojung thought aloud. “Millionaire status? He didn’t say where he worked?”

“Didn’t come up,” you replied shortly. You were done talking about him now. In your eyes it was nearly over. Your car was back in its rightful place on your driveway and Seokjin’s would soon follow in its rightful place – surrounded by a handful of others. You would never have to see that frustrating man ever again – hopefully.

“Find out tomorrow.”

“I am not finding out tomorrow,” you exclaimed. It wasn’t important. He worked in an office, nothing out of this world amazing. “I’m just going to drop off his car, write out a cheque and be on my merry little way.”

Soojung snorted. “Bitch, you’re going to be repaying him back a dollar a week.” You glared at her but she wasn’t fazed. “There’s no way you can afford it. He probably uses the most expensive mechanic in the city.”

“Shut up.” You didn’t care if you had to use your savings account. He was getting his money back one way or the other. You refused to be indebted to him. You were a little nervous though… “It can’t be that much. He only had to repaint some scratches,” you worried.

Your best friend ignored you, nestling in closer, an overjoyed grin on her face. “Tell me again, is he dishy?”

You sighed – loudly. Why couldn’t she let the topic drop? “I’ve already described him to you, and besides, that’s not the point.”

She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively. “So that’s a yes then. You’re into the Dilf!”

You didn’t bother replying, instead choosing to throw a cushion at her. She was unbelievable. But why did her teasing annoy you so much right now?

Saturday and Sunday’s always allowed you to sleep in, although 8am probably wasn’t what most called late. You liked to make the most of your weekends and today was no different. After breakfast you showered and got ready, putting aside an hour to go over the student reports for Monday instead of wasting your Sunday night instead. You and Soojung had made plans to go out for coffee late morning as it was rare to see her free on a Saturday. She worked hectic and last minute hours as a department store manager, but she’d finally bargained her first full weekend off in months.

Somehow your coffee turned into a little bit of a shopping spree, your credit card violently cursing you, but after the past few days you’d had you couldn’t find it in you to give a damn. You ate a late lunch at a one of your favourite cafés and then sadly, it was time to rush home and drop off Seokjin’s car back to him. You were very much dreading it – happy it would soon be over, don’t get you wrong, it was just the thought was making you all fidgety and nervous. Soojung wasn’t making it any better, she wouldn’t shut up about it, trying her best to get you give his address up. As if. You knew better than that. She’d be straight on her phone, google maps up in an instant.

You said a begrudging goodbye to her half 2, promising you’d call her straight away with all the details once you were done. She was spending the night at her boyfriend Taehyung’s house tonight but that still wouldn’t stop her innate need for gossip. Your phone acted as GPS on the way to Seokjin’s house, having no idea how to use the fancy one in his car. Not that any of it helped. His house seemed impossible to find. It did not take the predicted twenty minutes your phone told you. No, it was near forty by the time you finally found the concealed long road you’d driven past three times that led to it.

You came to a stop outside a pair of intimidatingly large gates and nearly choked when you saw his house. Well, you couldn’t really call it that. It was a mansion. Eight times the size of the house you and Soojung rented together, maybe more. He really was loaded. You just hadn’t realised how loaded until now. You felt a little sick as you spotted the intercom system on the wall, wondering if you could just ditch the car here and run as fast as your legs could carry you. Why had you not just let Seokjin arrange someone to pick it up from your house? Why were you always so stubborn?!

Taking a deep breath you got out of the vehicle and walked over to the intercom, feeling partial relief to find it didn’t have a camera attached. You would absolutely die of shame otherwise, hopelessly unphotogenic and camera shy. Your teacher’s ID card would forever haunt you.

It rang for a few moments before a woman picked up. “Hello, may I ask who it is?”

You weren’t expecting the female voice so you were stumped for a moment, stumbling over your words before you managed to settle on something helpful. “Hi, yes, this is Arin’s teacher, Miss. Y/L/N. I’m here to return the car Mr. Kim loaned me…”

“Hello, love” the woman greeted sweetly. “Drive up to the front of the house. I won’t be a moment.”

“Okay.” You were thankful she hung up first because you let out a shriek when the gates started automatically opening. You dreaded to think if there were security cameras near.

With a delay you got back into the car and started it up again, thoughts a little preoccupied now that it wasn’t Seokjin who’d picked up. You’d taken it he lived alone, not that he’d told you that. Maybe he had a new girlfriend, you were unsure how long he’d been divorced for. Although you didn’t recall Arin mentioning a woman’s name when she talked about her father. Not that you’d like to admit it, but you’d spent a generous portion of time last night while you waited for sleep trying to recall times when Arin had mentioned Seokjin. You didn’t know why, curiosity you guessed.

But anyway, if Seokjin in fact did have a new partner, then you also guessed Soojung’s theory was incorrect. He had not been flirting with you. Which wasn’t a surprise. It had been a long time since a guy had flirted with you… You were probably to blame there, but it didn’t particularly bother you. Your life was busy enough as it was, throw in a man and you’d hit your breaking point.

The woman who’d answered the call was waiting for you outside as you pulled up, older than her voice had made her seem. You stopped the car and got out, greeting her.

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Arin’s Nanny, Misook.”

Oh. That made sense. You guessed your imagination had run wild with you for a few unexplainable moments. You felt almost embarrassed as you stood there awkwardly. Was she going to take the keys? Could you leave?

“Please come in.” She smiled kindly. “Seokjin won’t be long, he’s just showering, work ran late.”

Come in?! Oh no, no, no. That wasn’t part of the plan. It was drop the keys and run. However, like a fool, you were unable to say no, looking behind you at Seokjin’s vehicle. “Is the car okay here?”

“Of course,” she nodded. “He’ll place it in the garage later. Follow me.” She turned her back and started making her way inside.

You followed with heavy feet, not quite ready for this. Your first three encounters/dealings with Seokjin had been interesting to say the least. How would the fourth go? You felt a little rude entering your way inside his house (mansion) but Misook wouldn’t have invited you inside if it wasn’t okay, right? Maybe Seokjin wanted you here…

“Make yourself comfortable while you wait.” Misook said once you’d taken off your pumps and she’d led you to the room nearest the entryway. The living room? The lounge? The family room? You didn’t know what else to call it, descriptions too basic for this grand home.

Not that the décor and furniture were too elaborate. In fact, everything looked so homely and cosy inside. The couch was definitely leather but the throw draped over it and the cushions out of place made it look lived in. The colour scheme was minimalistic, walls cream, accents mostly teal blue and grey. Seokjin had style, or perhaps he’d hired an interior designer. You suddenly wondered what the rest of his home looked like.

“Do you want anything to drink? Anything to eat? I’m just making Arin a snack.” Misook offered, but you immediately shook your head, not wanting to put her out.

“Oh, no thank you. I ate before I left.”

She nodded and left the room, leaving you to your own devices in a stranger’s house. The stranger who had hit your car and then proceeded to steal it from right under your nose. The stranger who had let you borrow his car and the stranger who was Arin’s dad. The world worked in mysterious ways. Or it was just mere coincidence, whatever.

You perched yourself on the end of the teal love seat nearest the large bay window, fluffing up the cushion behind you to at least look a little comfortable. You looked around the room casually, spotting a hardback book on the coffee table – The Rough Guide to the 100 Best Places on Earth. Did Seokjin like to travel? With a seemingly busy lifestyle and a child it seemed pretty impossible. Maybe he just liked to dream? Maybe he’d travelled in his younger days? Wait, why were you thinking about these things? You looked over to the impressive brick fireplace, the obvious focal point of the room; it was stunning. A chunk of waxed driftwood sat above it, acting as a shelf and in the middle of it was a photo of Arin and Seokjin in a silver frame. Both their faces filled the image, grinning widely and they really did look so alike. You found yourself smiling, jumping a little when you heard your name.

“Miss. Y/L/N!”

You followed the tiny excited voice, finding Arin in the doorway smiling shyly at you. She gave you a little wave.

“Hi, Arin,” you greeted.

That was all she needed to skip inside, sitting on the end of the couch closest to you. “Daddy told me you were coming today.” Well, at least she wasn’t surprised to find you in her living room. “He told me what he did. Silly daddy.”

You let out a polite laugh. “It’s okay, accidents happen, huh?” You couldn’t very well say your daddy was an idiot, could you? “How are you today, Arin?” You asked, changing the subject, finding yourself in teacher mode instantly. “Do you have any plans?”

“I’m okay,” she let out a comical sigh. “Daddy is taking me bowling.”

“That sounds like fun. Why are you sighing?”

“I was supposed to see my mom but she was too busy…” She answered rather dejectedly.

“Oh, that’s too bad.” You tried to think of something to say to reassure that little sad face of hers. “I’m sure she’s just as disappointed.”

Arin gave a little shrug. “She’s always busy.”

In the two months you’d been her teacher you’d never seen her mood like this. Yes, for her first week in class she’d been quiet, but that was because of nerves, today she looked deflated. You found yourself struggling for something to say, which was unlike you, especially with all your training. It was your job to reassure children after all.

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.”

Your head jerked up at the sound of Seokjin’s voice. There he was in the doorway, smiling your way. There was something different about him. What was it? Oh – his clothing. You noticed eventually. He was dressed incredibly casual today – normal. A beige coloured sweater and dark blue jeans. His hair wasn’t styled, flat to his forehead and still partly wet, his skin flushed from the heat of the shower. You still couldn’t place his age. You were sure he was older than you, but by how much was difficult to say.

“Mr. Kim, hi,” you greeted, standing up for some reason. You still couldn’t bring yourself to call him Seokjin unless it was in your own head.

He walked towards you, in slippers. You didn’t know why but the thought was so bizarre. You were being ridiculous. Of course he wore slippers, why wouldn’t he?

“Daddyyy,” Arin sung, running towards him and hugging his legs. She looked up at him, asking sweetly, “Are we ready to go?”

He chuckled, rubbing her hair. “Soon, sweetie. Go and find Misook in the kitchen so you can have your snack before we leave.”

She looked at him coyly. “Can we have pizza later?”

He laughed again and gave a small shrug. “Sure. As a weekend treat.”

You watched on, not realising there was a smile on you face. They were cute together. You noticed Arin peeking at you, then she looked up at her father again. “Is Miss Y/L/N coming too?”

Seokjin had the brazenness to look across at you, raising his eyebrows expectantly, as if it was your call. Was he insane? Not only was it implausible, it was downright unprofessional. You were Arin’s teacher. Yes, for just a few more weeks, but this interaction was already out of your comfort zone.

“Uh,” you started, feeling awkward. “No, sorry, Arin. I, um, I have plans today.”

You didn’t want to let her down, but luckily she didn’t seem to mind, giving you a roll of her shoulders and a cute smile. “Okay. See on you on Monday, Miss.” And off she skipped, out the door and to where you presumed was the direction of the kitchen.

“Sorry about that,” Seokjin chuckled, stepping closer, as if he hadn’t pretty much invited you himself. What if you’d said yes? He’d have been okay with that?

You felt yourself begin to heat up at the close proximity. You had no idea why he made you feel like this, especially now. You’d handled it so well yesterday, but then again, maybe that was because there’d been a desk separating you. In a professional setting. Right now you were out of your comfort zone, out of your depth. In his home, in his living room, a mere few inches between you both. Why did you find it so intimidating? Why did you find him so intimidating?!

That face… That face with that infuriating smile, and those eyes that seemed to twinkle with amusement, as if there was a joke you weren’t aware of. Multiple jokes. What did he find so funny? Was it you? You felt instantly defensive. He probably used those good looks to unease people, to make them do as he wanted. Not you.

You took a step back, your legs brushing the love seat behind you, and reached for your purse, pulling out your cheque book. “So,” you began, hating the way your voice faintly shook. “Let’s settle. How much do I owe you?”

His smile instantly disappeared as he rolled his eyes slightly. You caught them and it made you want to fight. “You’re still on this.”

“Yes, I am,” you bristled “They washed my car too.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he groaned. “It was part of the service.”

“Just tell me how much I owe you.” You were adamant.

“No.” So was he.

“Mr. Kim.”

“Seokjin,” he corrected, a small smug smile on his face.

“Tell me!”

He brought a hand to his temple, tapping the skin with his fingers as he let out a grunt. “You know what, I can’t seem to remember. It’s been a busy week, memory’s a little fuzzy.” The grin on his face told he was messing with you.

What an exasperating bastard. You didn’t swear often, but he’d just driven you to it. Any more and it was out loud. Maybe your face gave something away because he soon changed his tune, falling serious, like he could so magically do sometimes. “Look, it was my fault, so I paid.”

You wanted to scream. “What if I had an accident in your car? Would I have to pay the damage?”

Instantly he looked worried, those perfect eyebrows furrowing in alarm. “Have you? Are you okay?”

It looked like he was about to reach out a hand to comfort you, and you panicked, rushing into explanation, taken back by his concern. “No, I’m fine. I-I was just being hypothetical.” He looked confused. “By your logic, I would have to pay, right?”

“My logic,” he mused, chuckling softly. “I’m just doing the correct thing. But yes, I suppose you’d have to pay.” He gave a shrug, that annoying smile back on his face. “Good thing there were no accidents then.”

He was probably right. You weren’t that angry to prove a point. You’d probably have to take a lifetime loan to pay the damage off. You felt defeated. What more could you do? Write out a cheque for a guesstimated amount? Imagine the humiliation if you totally undervalued it. No, maybe you should just let it go. Bite your tongue and take this “gift” from a stranger. He had backed out into your car after all, regardless if you were hovering there, he just hadn’t been paying attention. He felt a guilt, a need to repair the damage caused so you’d just let him, even if it went against everything you believed in – your morals. He could obviously afford it and never miss the money.

So you let him win this one, let him walk you to the door before you were late for those important plans that may or may not involve being sat in front of the television all evening watching sitcom reruns on the comedy channel. (He didn’t know that of course.)

“Alice in Wonderland,” he said suddenly, just as you were coming to a halt by the grand wooden door. You turned to see him grinning and looked at him questioningly. What on earth was he on about? “A famous novel that uses that ‘it was all a dream’ trope you hate.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I think someone may have been on google last night.”

He held up his hands. “Guilty as charged.”

You let yourself laugh, genuinely amused. You weren’t so nervy now, as comfortable in his presence as you were going to get. “Goodbye, Mr. Kim.”

He tutted. “If you call me that one more time I’ll be forced to take that cheque from you.”

Really? Interesting… “Mr –

“I take it back,” he interrupted quickly, realising his mistake. “But please, call me Seokjin. I get called too many formalities within the week, I hate it.”

You had to agree with that, you knew that feeling all too well. “Fine,” you gave in. “Goodbye, Seokjin.” There, you’d bitten the bullet. Calling him by his name aloud made you feel funny. “Thank you for… everything.”

He mulled over your gratitude, seemingly satisfied. “I’ll take that.” You ignored him and turned to leave. He stopped you, his hand touching your elbow and warmth spread throughout your body instantly. “Are you really taking the subway home?”

You nodded.

He looked dubious. “The nearest station is quite a walk from here.”

“How far?” Now you were too.

“Let me give you a ride there.” He offered. “I’m taking Arin downtown anyway. Her plans with her mom got changed last minute so I’m trying to cheer her up.” At the mention of his ex-wife his voice became tense, his expression darkening for a moment before he shook himself out of it, a smile back on his face. “So, what do you say?”

“Okay.” You agreed, smiling back. “You can drop me off.” In all honesty, you had no clue where you were going anyway, this part of the city unfamiliar to you. That, and your cell phone had only 20% battery life left after the palaver of trying to get yourself here. Driving you to the station wasn’t going to put him out so it was fine.

“Great. Oh, by the way,” he slipped in, as if he’d suddenly remembered something. Or maybe he was just trying to sound casual. “Are you ever going to tell me your name or do I have to live in mystery for the rest of my life?”

You grew surprised. Of course, he didn’t know your name. You’d never told him. Maybe subconsciously you’d imagined Soobin would’ve relayed that piece of information back to him, or maybe, and most likely, you’d never actually thought about it at all. No wonder you hadn’t realised. You felt almost rude.

“It’s only fair,” Seokjin said, mistaking your silence as indecision. “You know mine, and I can’t keep referring to you as Miss. Y/L/N. It’s a bit strange, don’t you think?”

That was interesting. When was he planning to refer to you again at all? Not that you needed to be persuaded. But you were being polite, that’s what you told yourself. You knew his name so like he’d said, it was only fair. There was no other reason, and of course the idea of him being curious about your name made you feel nothing whatsoever. Okay?

You gave him a quick smile, feeling a little coy for some reason. “It’s Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeated, murmuring it softly as the mystery unveiled itself.

That was dangerous. Hearing the syllables roll from his tongue so gently sent a rush of heat through your body. It settled on your face, tingling, and you prayed it wasn’t visible.

What the hell was wrong with you?!

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #jin fanfic #seokjin smut #bts smut #floralseokjin:writings #fic:mls

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3wisellamas · 3 years

Text

Giant Sweet Cap’n Cakes Headcanon Masterpost!

(Fun fact, I thought most of these up while on one REALLY long hike. ^^; You can tell I fell for these three pretty hard.)

Music:

-I like the idea that, while the three all share a love of hip hop, glitch hop, electronic music in general, and a little lo-fi for chill times, they all have different tastes outside of those. (Meaning if you pass them the aux cord, they WILL argue!)

-Sweet's actually the biggest audiophile of the group, with by far the most eclectic tastes; he will literally put together playlists that go from dubstep to heavy metal to classical to rap to vaporwave to even country. The others don't really get it, but they're cool with whatever he puts on, and learn a lot of new music from him!

-He also owns an electric guitar, which he just plugs into himself to use as an amp and plays early in the morning to wake the others up if needed (he's the early riser and the other two are night owls...)

-Cap'n's definitely got a more narrow focus than the other two; he likes rap and also R&B, jazz, and even a little swing/electro swing. He's also been caught more than once listening to cheesy romantic pop songs, claiming he's just into them for their potential madamoizel-attracting uses but really he's just a sappy romantic.

-He can also rap, very well in fact, and gets Sweet to beatbox while he freestyles.

-Heck, he's just got a good singing voice in general, helped by having a built-in autotune, and dominates at karaoke!

-K_K also has a really broad range, but stays more towards the electronic end of the spectrum -- melodic dubstep, synthpop, disco, trance, chiptune, DnB, even occasionally puts on straight-up ambient spa music to chill out to (the only genre the other two will NOT tolerate.)

-K_K has also, in the past, set up entire mini-raves just by themselves, complete with glowsticks and everything, while Cap'n and Sweet were out doing whatever. They were...not pleased, when they got back, mostly because they weren't invited. All three got to have one together eventually though.

-Physical media is king in their shop; if it's not on a CD, cassette tape, or a vinyl record (or an 8-track, though they have to dig out their old player for it), they will refuse to play it, and might even ask you to leave. "MP3" is an extremely dirty word to them.

-(In fact, they don't get along too well with the MP3 player-headed robots elsewhere in the city.)

-They are indeed always listening to music on physical media as well -- K_K and Cap'n are their own CD players (though Cap'n's one of those models that's also got a built-in FM radio), while Sweet has a straight-up Walkman.

-(He's also the group's cassette champion, claiming his media of choice is superior to CDs because you can record music on BOTH sides of the tape! The other two just don't have the heart to point out that each side only holds half as much music as a CD, and you don't even have to rewind those...)

-Jury's still out on Hit Clips. Cap'n and Sweet think they're just toys, but K_K genuinely collects and appreciates them and treats them like actual music (it helps that they are only around four seconds long!)

-Believe it or not, the headphones are only decoration, all three actually just...listen to their music entirely within their own heads, though they can also switch to playing it externally on their speakers as well. Perks of being robots! Though, sometimes K_K has his internal volume up too high, and misses things that other people say because of it.

-Sweet also has an input port, and connects himself to his turntable to act as the speakers! The other two are WAY too embarrassed to ask if they can use it as well.

-Sweet can play almost any instrument you throw at him, as long as it's not a woodwind (Surprisingly, he can do brass, since those work on vibration rather than air!). He prefers his guitar or violin when he isn't spinning records on his turntable. Where the other two just enjoy music, he's the actual trained musician.

Voice headcanons:

-Sweet: Kind of deep, bass-y, lots of reverb, a slight tinny audio distortion to it like a low-quality recording that becomes much more pronounced when he gets upset or starts shouting. And since he's a speaker, you can literally feel the vibrations he makes when he's speaking!

-Cap'n: Scout from TF2. I am sorry, but I absolutely cannot get that out of my head for him. XD However, he's actually putting that voice on as an "accent" of sorts, his real voice is actually super autotune-y like K_K's, and it comes out whenever he gets flustered, his pitch only getting higher and higher as it gets worse...

-K_K: Pure autotune, he can just do whatever the hell he wants with his voice -- pitch, tone, whatever, and while he tends to keep it a little higher he can and does change it to fit his mood! He often has a completely different voice every day, but the others are used to it. He also just straight-up vocalizes sound effects (like, the kind that make you go "How did you just make that sound with your mouth?!") and can mimic other people perfectly (though the slight mechanical distortion does give it away). There are absolutely no rules when it comes to K_K's voice.

-They harmonize perfectly whenever they sing together!

Sweet:

-I like to think Sweet's actually the brains of the group; like, not SMART, he just holds their one collective braincell most often. He does any technical work when they're building stuff, like soldering circuits or the occasional programming, and even handles a lot of the actual business operations and pays the bills. The other two also like to follow his lead when it comes to rebellion plans, even if he’s not the official leader.

-That said, though? It's balanced out by him being rather hotheaded and having the shortest temper by a lot. There are REASONS why he's not usually out selling bagels with the others -- he's unfortunately prone to some more "extreme" sales tactics, like hurling half their stock at random passersby until they finally agree to buy some. On the plus side, he's always the first to step up to defend the gang from anything that dares to harm them, and is always on guard.

-He can also hold a heck of a grudge -- don't ever get on his bad side! Cap'n and K_K are mostly immune to this though, if he gets upset with them he works through it by the end of the day. It helps that they can all hug it out.

-He's a bit of a perfectionist, often working overtime to try and get everything they build exactly right. He can get really frustrated when things don't work out the way he plans, or when he can't make sense of a problem, or when Cap'n and K_K are goofing off instead of doing their part, and needs to go blast some loud music and blow off steam.

-He does have a really tough time keeping his balance, since his head is a bit heavier than the rest of his body, but he takes tripping over his own feet constantly in stride. The biggest problem he has is with dancing -- while he'll join in with the others on occasion, he can't match their more acrobatic moves and sticks more to actually PLAYING the music they're dancing to.

-He's also really, really unlucky, just in general. He actually considers the other two his good luck charms, since they help him out whenever he trips or gets into a bad spot!

-He's the fashionista of the group, surprisingly. It's difficult for him to find clothes that fit his body, so he tends to get a little creative with it and has a whole closet full of different stuff! And since Cap'n is roughly the same size they'll occasionally swap jackets.

Cap’n:

-Cap'n actually has managed to score a handful of dates with girls in the past! However, NONE of them went well, and only one actually made it to the second date (only to break up right in the middle of it), so he always ends up returning home heartbroken and in tears. Sweet and K_K, by this point just ready for it whenever they hear that he's going out that night, always dry him off before he shorts himself out, take him to bed and cuddle with him (platonically, I don't see them as brothers but I also don't see them as having that conversation until Cap'n's ready, which he clearly is NOT), remind him that it doesn't hurt forever and he isn't unlovable and that he'll find someone eventually, etc.

-They have sat him down multiple times to try and gently suggest to Cap'n that he might just not be into women? And that he’s actually turning them off by trying so hard? To which he's always just like "No, of course not. I'm straight. Love the ladies. Totally. Oh no they didn't catch me checkin' out that one dude earlier did they? Is that what this is about?!"

-(Basically, Cap'n is just a hopeless romantic in love with the idea of being in love, but is absolutely clueless as to how it works or what he actually wants, and his best buds are always there to catch him when he falls. ;v; )

-The glasses are prescription -- he's SUPER nearsighted, a hardware glitch he refuses to fix. Sometimes when he's working on something close up he'll take them off, panicking when he can't find them afterwards, only to have the others point out that they're just on his head. He’s also got non-tinted glasses, but you will not catch him DEAD wearing those unless it’s an absolute emergency.

-This dude is SUPREMELY insecure with himself. Like, his rather questionable fixation on romance aside, he basically runs off of others' validation, the "cool" persona he's spent much of his life building up being how he hides the fact that he isn't really sure who he is, or what he wants to do with his life, or what he's even good for -- the others have learned to check on him now and then whenever he hides away in the back of the shop, since he can slip into some pretty dark places when left alone to sulk. It took a long time for him to open up even to them to share his feelings, and sometimes still has doubts about whether they or anyone else really care about him as more than just The Smooth One...

-He's the only one of the three to actually enjoy the occasional silence, especially when he's trying to think, or whenever he's upset. So, his headphones also serve a dual purpose -- they're noise-cancelling!

-He's the video guy, carrying around a small camcorder and constantly trying to record the group's activities, to put together into music videos! He also just likes to record himself doing stupid stunts for posterity, though K_K just takes these and makes (affectionate) blooper reels.

-Cap'n is not his real name, similar to K_K. However, unlike K_K, he refuses to say what it is, just that it's embarrassing.

K_K:

-K_K has a bad habit of just completely zoning out when he gets into his music, getting completely lost in the groove and needing to be pulled back to reality. It's not a bad thing during jam sessions, but at work, or in the middle of a battle...not so much.

-He kind of needs to have some kind of music going at all times -- silence drives him absolutely CRAZY! Though, because he gets distracted by his own music, he then misses out on entire conversations, only tuning back in towards the end. Sometimes the other two have to repeat or summarize what they just said for him.

-He knows sign language, and taught the others to use it. They're able to communicate reasonably well no matter how loud their shop gets, or on days when K_K isn't able to form words properly (he's just shy, and even when he isn't he gets tongue-tied a LOT).

-He's easily the best dancer of the three, and uses his extendable body to get really creative with his moves! He even knows a little ballroom, somehow, which he'll pull out sometimes to make the others laugh.

-(Seriously, K_K CANNOT stand to see Sweet or Cap'n not smiling. He'll do anything to keep the group's spirits up, usually cracking jokes during a scrap project or doing little favors, and they appreciate all his efforts!)

-K_K has the WORST sleep cycle, ever. If you let him, he will stay up all night working or partying, finally going to bed at 6AM, and will then sleep until 6PM if the others don't wake him up at some point. If they know he was up really late they'll let him sleep in a little, but he's often pretty sleep-deprived and running solely on sugar and caffeine, which doesn't help his natural loopiness.

-He is a VERY physical guy. Seriously, he will just scoop up and hold Sweet or Cap'n like a cat every five minutes; at first they were just like "Oh. Okay. We're hugging now I guess," but after a while they got more used to it and even anticipate when K_K is going to do it. And he also initiates tons of snuggles and gives piggyback rides whenever one of his bandmates (usually Sweet) requests.

-K_K actually scrapbooks, collecting pictures and little mementos of places he and the others have gone and things they've done. After the library fountain is sealed, he pulls them out to show everyone else from Cyber City and reminisce about home.

-It's very hard to make K_K angry, since he tends to stay super chill and brushes off almost everything. But, on those very, very rare occasions when something does get under his metal outer casing, he'll go full-on silent treatment, not speaking to anyone for up to a week as he sulks and stomps around the junk shop, and even refuses to play any music! And no amount of sweets or hugs or cheering up will bring him out of it, either; the other two have learned to just wait him out and let him have his space, letting him come to them when he's finally ready to talk about it.

Misc:

-Though all three love everything sweet, K_K's the only one who really goes overboard with it, making whole meals out of candy. Sweet, ironically enough, actually prefers more salty/savory snacks, while the less is said about Cap'n's hot sauce addiction, the better.

-Okay, actually, I will say more about it. Cap'n loves spicy food in general, and literally drinks tabasco sauce right from the bottle. However, he's got a bad habit of daring himself to eat hotter and hotter stuff, ESPECIALLY if someone is watching, and can easily get in WAY over his head before begging for milk.

-They also all totally drink battery acid like Queen.

-Heck, being both Darkners and robots, they can really eat literally anything. Normal food, milk, oil, batteries, gallons of pure sugar, toothpaste, moss, glitter (NEVER let K_K get hold of any though, he gets lost in the sauce), broken glass, etc, and of course their own deep-fried CDs. Only thing they can't do is water, since, you know, robots.

-With a lot of the aesthetics of Cyber City being close to turn-of-the millennium and early 2000s (CDs and boomboxes, popup ads, wired mice, Queen theorized to be one of those see-through iMacs, EVERYTHING about Spamton), I like the idea that the boys DO NOT have smartphones, and if you handed them one they'd have no clue how to use it or what to do with it. But they do have cell phones: Sweet's got an old flip phone covered in stickers (courtesy of K_K), Cap'n splurged for one of those that slide open and with a camera (he set his background to a tiny, grainy photo of the three of them!), and K_K has one of those indestructible Nokia bricks, that Sweet got him after he kept breaking all his other ones. They can all text, but that's about as high-tech as they get.

-Same with tablets or newer computers in general, they might share one tiny netbook at most. Cap’n never remembers to log out of his Dark World dating profile, so the others will snoop or post embarrassing things to it.

-They're really, really durable, even without milk -- they're made of 90s plastic and electronics, so it takes a LOT to take one of them down! Plus, they regularly repair each other back at the shop (it took a LONG time for them to gain enough trust to physically open and work on each other), so as long as at least one's left to drag the other two to safety they'll be just fine.

-However, if they get splashed with water, caught in the rain, or worse, drowned, they will short out, or shut down on the spot to prevent damage. Once they completely dry out, though, they'll start right back up, no worse for wear. When only one of them gets waterlogged the other two will break out the hair dryers to dry them out faster, or even pop them into the oven in a pan of rice like an iPod that got dropped in the toilet...

Finally, backstory?

-Cap'n and K_K met first -- maybe both as new recruits to another, much less savory gang of music equipment robots, and bonded as a result of being put upon by the more established members (Cap'n probably even had to defend K_K more than once when his inattentiveness got him into trouble!) But, they both had enough one day, and decided to break off and form their own thing, making music and selling CD bagels to support themselves.

-Sweet, meanwhile, has the complete opposite background, coming from a rich and important family of musicians in Cyber City who regularly entertained Queen in her mansion (hence why he always used to get sweets from her!) But, he was kind of the black sheep, preferring his own style of music, and decided to strike out on his own as a street musician instead.

-They met when Cap'n and K_K accidentally set up to sell bagels on Sweet's usual corner, and he battled them to reclaim his turf. But, they were evenly-matched (even two-to-one; Sweet's definitely the strongest of the trio!), and impressed each other with both their fighting and musical skills, so Sweet decided to join their tiny group, and thus Sweet Cap'n Cakes was formed.

-After the whole situation with Queen is resolved, SCC turns their rebellion into an anti-DRM kind of thing? Nobody can hold back the music, man!

#deltarune #sweet cap'n cakes #deltarune sweet #deltarune cap'n #deltarune k_k #sweet #cap'n #k_k #emheadcanons

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stopeatingwhales · 3 years

Text

playing cards x damon albarn

THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE OMG OK. hope you guys enjoy it!!!! I love arrogant damon sorry not sorry <3

Pairing: 1995 damon albarn x reader

Warnings: alcohol use

Word count: 2.339

@damonfuckingalbarn this is 4 u!!!! <3

༉‧₊˚✧

“Have this, you’ll like it far much more than what you’re drinking.”

Diverting my gaze from the beverage encapsulated in my palm, I met my view with the mysterious voice that had beckoned in my direction. “Excuse me?” I said, first landing my glare on his ethereal orbs, spheres that were so magnificent that I had to attempt a double-take; the idiosyncratic shades, merged together to create a masterpiece of different blues, as if they were small fragments of the water from most pure oceans, exemplifying the ideation of eyes that engulf you in at the instant - simply gazing into his orbs was the token I had needed to be entirely enthralled by his presence. Perhaps his gaze was too intense, too enticing, leading me on to trail my stare to admire the more gorgeous head of hair, which looked as if it hadn’t been brushed, though that portrayed its attractiveness. His face was beaming toward my direction, taking me aback slightly as I quickly ditched the sight of his face, drifting my sight to gawk at the two drinks clasped by his hands. “That looks like shit.”

A small scoff escaped his throat, evident that he was not expecting the abrupt attitude that had beckoned upon my lips. Slightly embarrassed at my dramatic remark, I adjusted my posture, accentuating such confidence that I had seemingly demonstrated so diligently with my demeanour. “Just try it.” he replied, placing one of the glasses on the dark wood counter, pushing it towards my direction lightly to prevent it from slipping off the glossy counter. Leaning my torso closer to the counter, I spent a couple seconds examining the contents of the unknown drink, it being something that I had never set my eyes upon.

Placing my original drink on the countertop, I nervously grasped the ambiguous drink that he had offered me, glancing back at him with an unsure expression illustrated on my features. In a way to reassure or encourage me, he nodded his head, resulting in me then taking a small sip to ease myself into the new flavour. Before the liquid had merely touched the back of my throat, I spat the contents back out into the glass. “That’s minging!” I choked, my face scrunching up in disgust. Focused on each move I was making, I felt his eyes continue to gawk at me as I attempted to rid the awful taste that lingered on my tongue by taking a lengthy sip of my pint, swallowing down the contents gleefully. Connecting my stare with his, I once again analysed his features, almost like my mind trying to discover what had been the true ideal that his beauty had enthralled me so rapidly just gaping at him. Perhaps I had over-emphasised his gorgeousness too much, though my doubts were denied as soon as my view had set upon his face once again. He had a smirk carefully illustrated at the side of his lip, curving the top of his cheek slightly, his face sculpted so delicately it urged the want to caress your finger against his skin, it conveying the impression that it was so soft, accentuating the prettiness of his facial features. Something inside me was itching towards the fact that he was somebody I knew, or at least somebody that I had seen somewhere, until it had clocked that he was from television, more specifically Top Of the Pops, last night. "You're that singer from that art school band, aren't you?" I questioned, my vision squinted together as I challenged my active recall abilities. “Damon isn’t it?”

"Wow, you know your music!" he laughed, edging his arm to rest on the counter. The stare orchestrated between us remained, as I left my mind to ponder over the common-knowledge of how men were like in bands. Aware of what he was going to solicit, and knowing that he would think it was going to be extremely easy, I had to prepare myself not to fall for it, no matter how good-looking or tempting the concept engulfed in my brain made it out to be. "Want to go out for dinner tomorrow?"

“No, sorry.” I bluntly replied, breaking the poignant eye contact to down the rest of my drink, slightly forcing the glass containing the beverage he had offered me, back to him. If I had my eyes lingering on his for any longer, I’d end up doing something I’d highly regret the next morning.

“Why not?” he quizzed, bewildered by my sudden response. Clearly he had never had a woman decline his offer before, or was definitely not expecting it after he had gone head to head and won against the second biggest band in the country the night previous. So arrogant.

“Because I don’t want to?” I replied, slightly amused by how perplexed he had gotten. Darting my eyes around the dimly-lit room, my gaze fixated on a booth consisting of boys that, from my vague memory, believed were his band members. Knowing that he was still looking at me, I allowed a smirk to fall on my lips as I thought of what to say next. “I've actually got my eye on that guy over there," I mumbled, pointing towards the familiar booth of boys, my index finger lingering on the tall, lanky boy, whose hair looked as soft as the petals of a newly-bloomed rose. Granting my finger to saunter for a while, it directed enough time for Damon to swivel his head around to see whomever I was speaking about. "Alex, isn't it?"

Switching my focus back to look at him, I noticed his jaw clench at my remark, his orbs dawdling over the three boys who had been engrossed in conversation. Feeling the smirk on my face widen, I relished in the sensation of battering his ego - even if it was just slightly. A small laugh escaped his throat as he locked his gaze with mine, clicking his tongue as he sneered, understanding what I was trying to do to him. It was a forced chuckle, most likely portrayed out of annoyance, “Look, I just think you’re really pretty, alright?”

Chewing on my bottom lip, I felt my stomach ignite at his frustration towards my obnoxiousness. Butterflies were blooming in my stomach as a certain heat flushed over my cheeks, my body mindful that I couldn’t keep up with such a persona for a much longer time. As well as this, it would potentially drive him away, which at this rate I didn’t want him to do, so I thought of the best possible solution to bring his hopes up, reaching to the ground underneath the barstool to grasp my bag, taking out a deck of cards. “Let’s play snap.” I exclaimed, beginning to shuffle the card deck.

“And you just carry those around do you?”

“It’s fun to play.” I replied, splitting the deck and then sliding him his share.

“Can I just get you a drink?” He groaned, though a small smile had perched on his lips at the irregularity of the situation. A girl is asking him to play cards after she simply rejected him, at a bar.

“You already did, Damon, and it was shit.” I spat back, fixing my eyes on his once again. He looked slightly offended at the insolence I demonstrated towards his efforts, which, for some reason, sank my heart a little. “If you win this game, I'll give you a second chance.”

“Deal,” He beamed, the signature devilish grin of his painted on his lips once again. “Might as well get you that drink now.” he added, his arrogance seeping through his teeth.

As we began placing our cards in the middle of the table, one after another, the environment was tense as to when two cards of the same origin would land upon each other. It was funny, I had gone out tonight to blow off steam from the stresses that work had offered me the past week, and somehow I had landed myself playing a game of cards with undoubtedly the most famous musician in Britain at the moment. “I’m not falling for it, you know.” I said, avoiding his gaze.

"Then why are you doing playing cards with me, love?" he interrogated, the sneer on his lips evident by his lustrous tone. He was right; his obvious pretentiousness, and egocentrism only edged me towards loving his company just that much more, which had disgracefully increased my attraction to him, but of course I wasn’t going to admit that, hell, I was adamant that I wasn’t going to fall for it, even though that was exactly what I had been doing this entire time - sinking down a hole of allurement from his persona that panned something inside of me that I wasn’t able to pinpoint on. Pop star effect, I suppose.

Completely silenced by his comment, I felt a certain radiance tease it’s way to my cheeks once again, edging me into humiliation even more to the fact that he could tell the effect his words were having on me - the sly grin on his features was felt in the tension shared between us. In an endeavour to shy away my embarrassment, I dragged out my packet of Marlboro cigarettes, snatching one from its packaging and lighting it before placing another card down on the deck that had been piling up since we had started. Inhaling sharply, I allowed the cancerous smoke to escape my lungs, my body adorning the relaxed feeling that seeped through after. “Can I have one?”

“No.”

“Why not? Your pack’s full!”

Pausing my movements before taking another hit from the roll of tobacco, a smirk lingered on my lips as I let my head rest on my palm, keeping my body upright. "Why? Those songs of yours not selling much?" I mocked, blowing another whiff of smoke into his face, the stunned expression held on his face only exhilarating me more in what felt like... control, though from the way he had been acting, I knew that such power was not going to last for a long while. "Put a card down, for goodness sake."

Scoffing, he followed my demand, though the card he placed down was the exact same as the one I placed down before, ensuing his hand slamming suddenly on top of the card deck, my mouth agape as I realised that he had won. “Look who won!”

A beam covered my face as I shook my head, watching him grab the attention of the bartender, asking for another drink that once again, I hadn’t heard of before. Once the bartender was done preparing the beverage, Damon passed it over to me, another grin captured on his expression. Sighing, I discarded the remains of my cigarette before taking a sip of another, unknown drink, the feeling of déjà vu hitting me as I had enraptured myself in the same situation when we had first spoken. "For fucks sake Damon, this tastes worse than the last one."

"More for me then, isn't it?" he grinned, my mind now aware that he had simply ordered such an appalling drink to agitate me. Be that as it may, he was aggravating, and took delight into making one’s time horribly spent, there was something about him that kept me latched onto him. Perhaps it was his glowing features, which were so enticing that it blinded me into thinking that he was the only other person in the room, and the only other person that I could set any fragment of attention towards.

"Stop pissing me off, you twat." I mumbled, looking at my bag as I placed the card deck back inside, it not proving much use to the situation anymore.

"You could quite easily just walk away, if I’m pissing you off this much.” he said, his head tilted to the side as his eyes lingered on me, practically forcing me to connect our gazes once again. “Doors just there, love." he uttered, beckoning his hand towards the timber door that divided us between the streets.

"Why would I leave when I'm getting free drinks?" I asked, trying to maintain whatever control I had over the situation, which had been deemed to have slipped out of my grasp at this given moment. The tension between us had been alleviating faster than it had been before, as we began reaching the climax of the encounter.

"You're not liking them though, are you?" he replied, face beginning to draw dangerously close to mine, his eyes flicking from my eyes to my lips every couple of seconds, contemplating how to end the situation. It was fully in control with him now; I was merely wrapped around his measly little finger, and he knew it. Our noses grazed ever-so-slightly on one another's as I felt his breath fan onto my cheeks - all I had craved for at this point was to attach my lips onto his, my breathing quickening as the realisation of just how close our bodies were to one another. "Just admit it, you're loving this." he mumbled.

"Am not." I whispered, my eyes staring at his lips as shuffled closer and closer to mine. We were both aware that what I had said was a lie, but my stubbornness wasn't ready to let that slide yet. Just as I thought we were going to connect lips, he darted his head away rapidly, the movement so swift I hadn't come to realize until a couple seconds afterwards, my cheeks now reddened to the point that I was almost convinced I had a fever.

"You fell for it, lovely." he grinned, placing a white slip on my lap, decorated with numbers to which I assumed were in relation to his telephone number. "Let me know when you're free!" he exclaimed, before waltzing off to the booth where his friends had, leaving me completely stunned, and exactly where I knew would be - absolutely encapsulated by the man known as Damon Albarn.

#damon albarn x reader #damon albarn #blur #blur band #band imagines #fluff #nineties #britpop #90s #music

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mythicamagic · 3 years

Text

Fire and Brimstone: a Sesskag oneshot

For @harlecorn! ♥ Happy Birthday! 🎂

Rated T

A Hellhound remains bound beneath a church, waiting for the chance to enact revenge on his captors. His golden opportunity comes in the form of a blue-eyed woman. Sesskag AU oneshot.

You can read this on Ao3, Fanfiction.net and Dokuga

AN: This takes place in old-timey England. Think Witch Trial era - between the 15th and 18th century. However, I'm largely skipping the old language used in those times bc it would make dialogue feel awkward. If Kagome sounds weird it's bc I've had to lay off the modern talk a bit.

Warning: references to/implies torture

Fire and Brimstone

It was raining outside. Sesshoumaru could tell because a continuous leak somewhere had become his sole entertainment for several hours now. A thin sliver of water dripped from the roof between 10-second intervals, and he passed the time by counting them.

...Eight...Nine...Ten- drip!

A black nose twitched, picking up stale dampness lingering in the air. His body ached, but if he stayed still the wounds remained at a manageable dull, continuous pain rather than flaring white-hot agony.

How long had it been since he'd been dragged down into this dark place? He couldn't recall. Perhaps years. At the very least- months. He'd long since given up looking around at his prison, now laying in a dozing, frozen state.

Hearing something, Sesshoumaru's fluffy ear quirked. The blood inside his ear canal had encrusted, leaving sounds muted, but he could pick up distant footsteps descending stone stairs.

Have they returned to pray and bind me more tightly to their pathetic altar?

Sesshoumaru inwardly sneered, scarred paws remaining motionless. Though incredibly weak due to holy water- with his back and arms impaled with large iron stakes- a powerful, simmering rage in his chest refused to be tempered. His throat burned, belly scorching hot.

The church priest would pay, along with all his snivelling followers. One did not bind a Hellhound and live to tell the tale. Their foolish obsession with witch hunts and stamping out 'evil' within the land would be their undoing. They were fortunate they'd captured him while he'd been asleep.

Torchlight shone an orange hue behind Sesshoumaru's eyelids, but he refused to open them, playing possum.

"Still sleeping, are ye, unholy mutt?" a detestable, straight-laced voice reached his damaged ears, another torch being lit inside the room. "Good. Stay that way. Sleep until our heavenly Lord above casts you back from whence you came, down to Hell."

Oh this one will not be returning empty-handed, Sesshoumaru inwardly purred.

Remaining motionless, he looked for all the world unconscious. He couldn't lash out and tear into the priest as desired, due to a muzzle enclosed around his jaw. So, he bided his time. Rescue was out of the question. Dark creatures such as he received no aid from brethren. Sesshoumaru would just have to conserve energy for now.

The priest murmured a prayer that sent wrought iron hissing anew inside his flesh. Inwardly snarling, Sesshoumaru held himself still, refusing to show pain. His legs trembled slightly, giving him away.

Curse you. Curse you!

Wrath pumped through his veins, a siren song urging him to kill.

Satisfied that his work held strong, the head priest left; the sound of footsteps retreated up the stairs, leaving behind the lit torch.

At least that changed the scenery a little. Not that he had any reason to look upon it. Sesshoumaru panted hard the second he was left alone, sharp teeth clenching hard inside his jaw.

A quiet gasp caught his attention. Sesshoumaru froze. His nose twitched.

No scent?

Frowning, the Hellhound pried his eyelids open. Orange and black shapes shifted, blurry until someone's face came into focus.

Blue eyes gazed down at him. A woman with dark hair tumbling down her back slowly pried her hand away from her mouth.

"They really are cruel," she muttered, shocked features becoming grave. "I might as well refrain from asking if you're alright- since you clearly aren't," the stranger winced. "Sorry, that was insensitive."

Sesshoumaru blinked. What the Devil?

Her lips pursed, attention sliding to the iron stakes in his back. "I don't know how they managed to capture you. Surely that Priest can't have holy powers. He's about as pure as mud."

"...What are you?"

She paused, tilting her head and pushing dark hair behind her ear. "O-oh, that was rude of me, I didn't introduce myself, did I?" smiling, she straightened. "My name is Kagome Higurashi. Who are you?"

His question had been left unanswered, for he was largely uninterested in her name. He sneered, "Sesshoumaru."

"Nice to meet you, Sesshoumaru," she brought her hands together behind her back, smiling with only slight wariness. Her faded dress was slightly torn. Peasant wear. "I didn't expect you'd be able to talk."

"And I did not expect to be joined down here by a little lost lamb. Are you my dinner? They do not typically feed me." Saliva pooled in his mouth, drool pooling on the altar. His jaws parted, eyes glinting as they ran over her willowy form.

Kagome stepped away, huffing and crossing her arms. "While I sympathize, don't get rude. If you eat my soul then you really will be all alone- with no allies. You'll have eaten the only help you're going to receive in this place."

Sesshoumaru frowned as she walked out of his available sight, moving around his left side and picking up something from a shelf.

"You seek to give me aid? That seems counterintuitive for a soul as pure as yours."

He could smell it. The light radiating from within her. He knew her to be foreign from her features- and wondered how a priestess from a faraway land had arrived in such a miserable country rife with turmoil and evil; his hunting ground for the past few centuries.

She reappeared in his line of vision, holding a bowl of collected rainwater. She frowned, "I don't think 'pure' means 'doormat.' These men have caused a lot of harm. Harm should come back to them."

Red eyes cracked wider, interest lighting his red gaze. Kagome set the bowl down, resting a knee beside his jaw on the alter. "I'm trying to help you. Please don't eat me for it," with a wobbly smile, she reached for his muzzle.

Sesshoumaru held still, keen attention fixed on her every movement. Her deep blue eyes were pleasing, face quite beautiful in flickering torchlight. His dry tongue shifted within his mouth.

A Hellhound's purpose was to drag corrupted souls to the underworld. Kagome's radiated a strong, fierce glow.

The Japanese woman carefully grasped cool metal chains, pulling them off from around his face and tossing the muzzle aside.

Spittle-coated teeth immediately lunged- latching onto the coarse fabric of her modest dress, canines resting over her chest. Kagome gasped, hands grasping his jaw. Sesshoumaru tilted his head up, forcing her to lean over him slightly.

Crimson eyes glared up at her, growling lowly.

"What is your motivation, priestess?" a dark rumble growled inside her mind. "Tell me why I see black flames of revenge burning in the depths of your soul. A single blemish in your otherwise spotless self."

Kagome exhaled, and he felt her chest expand and fall with each breath. Gentle fingers ran over the silver fur on his face, cracking his eyes wider.

"The Dutch took me from my country a few years ago. Since then, I've been passed around to different places, picking up different languages. When I was forced onto a boat heading for this strange land- I didn't think anything more of it. I was to be the servant of a reputable house, but the priest of this church took issue with my foreign looks. After that, men dragged me here. You're not the only one who has suffered at their hands."

She withdrew her touch- and Sesshoumaru nearly tipped his head to chase it- unfamiliar with gentleness. Sparking holy powers then collected between her fingers, hovering close without making contact.

"I don't want to hurt you, in fact, I'd rather we were allies," the hushed words sounded genuine. "But I won't let you eat me easily either if that's what you're after. Let go."

Sesshoumaru searched her face, becoming entranced; Drunk off the sparking conviction there. What an odd, strong woman.

Letting out a breath of steam that whipped her hair back, Sesshoumaru relaxed his lower jaw, teeth unhooking from where they'd dug into the material of her clothes. He lowered her back to kneel on the altar, immediately diving for the water she'd provided instead.

Kagome caught her breath, holy powers fading away.

He lapped up every last drop, panting for more, wanting to sate the burning in his throat, but it would do for now. Sesshoumaru lifted his head, words firm with conviction as his chest rumbled.

"If you release me from my imprisonment, I will do your bidding for a time, woman. However, you should be aware of the consequences if you set me free."

She absentmindedly rubbed at the spot over her chest where his teeth had been, lips curving. "I know what'll happen to me, Hellhound," Kagome said quietly. "I accept the consequences."

Sesshoumaru bumped her leg with his nose, resting his head upon her thighs. “Then what do you command?”

"I want you to devour them," she murmured, gaze far away as she stroked mindful fingers through matted fur. "I believe in reincarnation, so I want you to prevent these terrible people from ever getting a second chance at life again. Eat them all- except the Head Priest. Him...you can drag home, to the deepest, darkest place available. Never let him be free from the shackles and iron bars you thrust inside him."

Sesshoumaru's breath shuddered. Their judgement aligned perfectly; and she'd spoken his desires aloud.

He had come across countless souls during his wrathful existence. He knew kind ones as well as those corrupted. This was one of the few times Sesshoumaru felt he'd witnessed a kind person pushed too far, beyond her breaking point. Now a deep well of dark emotion had pooled inside her, magnificent in its righteous fury.

Shifting, he dragged a hot, wet tongue up the length of Kagome's collarbone and neck, leaving a slick trail.

"Such pain...I can taste the ash on you," he purred, looking into her sad blue eyes. His voice hardened, incensed with renewed anger from her hurts and his own. "Free me, and it is gladly done."

Kagome shivered, before moving around his side. Gripping one iron bar embedded through his front leg that jutted into the alter below, she planted her knees wide.

"This is going to be a painful process, I'm sorry. W-will you survive the blood loss?"

The white demonic dog flashing her a jagged smile. "Just who do you think you are talking to?"

With a nod, Kagome steeled herself. Giving a hard yank that sent her stumbling backwards- the long, gruelling process began. Only when the agony died down would a monster with blood-red eyes emerge from the bowels of the church.

And all Hell broke loose.

-----

The church tower collapsed through the roof that fateful night. Bloodshed had begun, soaking the air with a coppery taste that quickly became dwarfed by fire. Earlier rainfall could not deter it- nothing stood in its blazing, enraged path.

White flames roared around the silver monster. He chased men down the church aisle in a frenzied hunger, catching them in his jaws. Of course, he saved the best for last.

The Head Priest trembled against a broken wall while screams pervaded the smoky air.

Sesshoumaru turned, panting. A red tongue lolled, snaking up to lick his bloodied maw.

With a yelp, the man tried to scramble away- only for his robes to be snagged on a broken beam. Heavy paws collided with his back, teeth latching into his clothes.

Within the burning depths of the church, a roaring inferno opened up. The Priest clawed and scrambled at blistering ground, cobblestone turning into scolding cinders beneath his palms. Frightened screams rang out as he was dragged backwards, Sesshoumaru descending with him down a winding, fiery path into the earth.

Everything collapsed inwards with one final groan of wood as structures toppled, the building completely caving into a burning wreck.

Kagome stood alone on a hillside, watching the entire thing unfold. She then smoothed her skirts, crouching by an unmarked, mass grave.

"I hope...you'll feel avenged now," she said softly.

She did not run nor scream. Instead, Kagome waited patiently to meet her fate, setting some flowers down.

A white dog demon covered in patches of ash approached silently. He sat beside her, neither acknowledging the violence he'd just committed.

"This is where you are buried?" he asked, gazing intently at her.

The ghost smiled wanly. "Buried makes it sound like we had a funeral. I was dumped in this hole with a few other women after we were sentenced as witches and burned at the stake. Nothing was left but my charred remains," her voice wobbled. Kagome made to wipe some tears- his sticky tongue licking them away before she could.

She gentled, touching his bloodied jaw. "H-how are your wounds?"

"All but mended," Sesshoumaru drew closer, humid breath fanning over her neck. "You know what must happen now."

Kagome laughed cynically. "Mn, because I'm a corrupt soul, you'll be dragging me to Hell too," she brushed a hand over the fur at his shoulder. Blue eyes hesitated for a moment, afraid of something entirely human.

"Will it...hurt?" she whispered.

If it were possible for a demon dog to ease his expression into something a touch less cold and hungry, Sesshoumaru managed to achieve something almost warm. He didn't answer at first, allowing a moment of silence to stretch between them. When he finally spoke again, his speech resounded inside her head as a soft grumble.

"No. Not for you."

"Oh, I'm glad to hear that," a breath rushed out of her dead lungs, arms wrapping around herself as she glanced at the grave. "I've had enough pain, thank you."

"Indeed, you and I both."

A lily-white hand was offered down to her, sliding into her vision. Kagome's gaze drew up to a tall male.

The yellow moon looming behind his head gave him a halo effect; its gentle glow lining his face and dazzling her. Silvery hair split down broad shoulders, hanging like fine royal threads fit for a King. He wore black robes that billowed like dragon smoke.

Sesshoumaru's inhuman face smiled in an unnerving fashion, though she could tell the intent behind it- the desire to reassure her despite evidence of death on his robes. "Shall we go?" he asked in rich, clear tones.

Kagome stared up at the demon's handsome features. Smiling, she grasped his clawed hand without fear, allowing him to pull her up.

"You didn't have to change into such a pleasing form. I was coming with you anyway."

"My form is pleasing?" thin lips curved, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm, Sesshoumaru strolled with her down the hill, a gateway opening up within the earth as a huge chasm, welcoming him home.

"Oh hush, you know it is," Kagome smiled tiredly, walking with the Hellhound away from the fire and brimstone burning behind them. "So...will I be punished down there?" her voice was almost lost, spoken so softly.

Glowing eyes smiled. "There is a place some call the Elysian Fields. I will take you to them."

She stiffened, blinking rapidly to expel the salty tears of relief and gratitude welling up in her eyes. Kagome stopped within the cavern of the underworld, causing him to halt with her. Drenched under harsh shadows of the earth about to swallow them whole, his eyes shone red like glittering jewels.

"I suppose I'll need a guard too," she said evenly. "To make sure I don't escape. I'm a very wicked soul, after all. A heretic."

Sesshoumaru flashed his teeth at her. "Hn, the worst kind. I will see to it personally since this one is best suited for such a difficult task."

Smiling with relief, Kagome willingly walked with him into the jaws of Hell.

End

#inuyasha #Sesskag #sesshoumaru x kagome #Sesshoumaru #Kagome higurashi #AU

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quokkacore · 3 years

Text

lost and found [bang chan]

summary: looking for your soulmate is difficult to do when you’re also looking after your daughter. but on a chance shopping trip, when you lose her, you end up finding her, and your soulmate, whose soft smile and cute dimples offer a lot of promise.

pairing: musician!chan x singlemom!reader

genre: soulmates au, slice of life, meet-cute, holiday special-ish?, fluff, minor angst towards the beginning.

warnings: brief mentions of kidnapping, language, eating

song rec: exo - wait // chen - shall we?

word count: 2.1k

a/n: helena writing something that isnt angsty or smutty? apparently thats possible. december is gonna be pure winter fics says the girl who lives in a country where its SUMMER but go off and i’m posting a two part exo fic tht i’m rlly excited for on christmas eve and christmas day, so pls look forward to tht ^^

It only took a minute. It felt like even less. You turned your head to look for a sales employee, and let go of your 4 year old daughter’s hand to grab the hand she was holding onto to look through the shirts you were going through. Your eyes and hands were off of Annie for the briefest of moments, and when you reached out again, when you turned your head to look downward… gone. Like the wind.

That had been ten minutes ago. Now, you were wandering around the department store like you had gone crazy. To a certain degree, you had. Don’t panic if you lose sight of your kid, all the parenting articles had said. So naturally, you were doing exactly that. Once your mind got the gears turning, it was hard to get them to stop. Your inner pessimist was already whispering to you, what if she left the building? What if some creep snatched her up? What if she had gotten hurt?

Why couldn’t you have just stayed home on your day off? Why did you have to decide to haul yourself and your daughter along to the mall to do your holiday shopping today? You were immediately beginning to regret every decision you’d made in the past few hours, tears prickling in your eyes and a lump beginning to grow in your throat.

You wondered vaguely if she’d left the department store and was now wandering around the mall. That could be an entirely different possibility. You’d gone around the department store twice now, not seeing a single sight of her. Your grip tightened on her winter coat—which she had given to you when it got too warm for her from being inside—and started looking for a security guard instead. Maybe they could call out to the other security guards in the mall and keep a lookout.

Just as you spotted one, beginning to think of what you could say to give a physical description—her hair and eye color, which were both the same as your own, the red t-shirt she had on, the jeans, her height—a notification bell rang throughout the department store on the speaker system.

“To Annie’s mom, Y/N,” The woman on the PA system said, “Your daughter is at the help desk at the north entrance of the building.”

A swell of relief swept through you as she repeated the announcement one more time, and your feet, of their own volition, started towards the exit of the department store. What a fucking relief. You had entered toward that side of the building; meaning, yes, she’d left the store, but she hadn’t gone too far. Your heart was racing, sprinting towards the entrance. Your eyes darted back and forth, desperately waiting for the desk to come into sight as you rounded the corner.

When you turned, your eyes caught sight of your little girl, Annie, standing in front of the desk, teary-eyed, next to a young man in a black hoodie, watching her quietly. Your feet sped up, and when you were about fifteen feet away from the desk, your daughter turned her head to the sound of quick feet making a mad dash across the floor. Her eyes widened, and her little feet shot in your direction. “Mommy!”

She ran up to you, and you crouched to grab her in your arms, engulfing her in a hug that felt like it was more for your sake than for hers. You could feel a giant weight falling off of your shoulders as he sniffled against your shoulder. You found yourself having to blink tears out of your eyes. Pulling away a few seconds later, you wiped away a stray tear trickling down your little girl’s cheek.

“Honey, you can’t just walk away from me like that,” You murmured shakily, “I was so worried.”

“‘M sorry, mommy,” She sighed in a small voice, lower lip wobbling. Your heart clenched at how upset she was, and you put your hand on her cheek to calm her down. “Wanted t’go look at the toys. But I didn’t see you ‘nymore after.”

You sighed, pursing your lips. “I’m so glad you’re safe. How did you find your way to the desk?”

Annie turned her head, wide eyes fixing on the man in the oversized hoodie. Dark, frizzy curls paired with eyes of the same color, warm and welcoming, watching your interaction with his elbow propped up against the desk. “He helped me. Showed me where t’go.”

Your eyes met the man’s, and you stood slowly, holding onto Annie’s hand. You made your way over to him, flashing him a small friendly smile. “Annie says you helped her find her way here? I can’t thank you enough. I was this close to losing my mind.”

He let out a quiet laugh, nodding sympathetically. “I can imagine,” He replied, revealing a deep Australian accent, “I remember when I was a kid, my little sister got lost at the supermarket. My mum just ‘bout went nuts looking for her, and she was only missing for like five minutes. When I saw your daughter all alone, I got this horrible feeling, and I remembered my mum… I couldn’t just leave her there, y’know?”

You laughed. “Kids,” You sighed warmly, “You can’t take your eyes off of them, not even for a second. But honestly, thank you, uh, Mr…?”

He smiled, and as your other turbulent emotions began to subside, you realized he was insanely cute, taking note of his rosy, heart-shaped lips and his dimple. “Bang Chan. Uh, but just Chan is fine! Really.”

“Chan,” you repeated, your smile growing. You turned your head to look down at Annie. “And, what do we say to Chan for helping you, Annie? Sweetie...?”

But she didn’t seem to be listening to you. She was too busy gawking at your hand, which was holding onto her little one. You furrowed your brows, eyes falling to where she was looking, before your mouth fell open.

This was the last thing you were expecting, you thought, as your eyes fell upon the red string tied around your finger, eyes trailing forward, forward, until they made their way to Chan’s index finger, and then even further, meeting Chan’s eyes, which were wide as saucers. Evidently, he hadn’t been expecting this either.

“Mommy,” Annie said, confused, “That string just showed up out of nowhere. Like magic!”

It was your turn to not answer now, too in shock, blinking stupidly at Chan, who was doing the same. It felt like an out of body experience, unable to stop your mouth from gaping like a fish, while watching you and this ridiculously charming, handsome-for-absolutely-no-reason man come to the realization that the universe had tied you together, quite literally.

“I-I…” You choked out, unable to speak. Oh my god, you idiot, you thought, say something! Don’t just stare!

“Mommy.” Annie’s free hand was tugging on your long, brown winter coat now, which snapped you out of your idiotic gawking. You looked down at her, and her eyes were glittering with excitement. “The string! ‘S’the one you told me about last week! Th’one that shows up when you meet your… your… snow mate!”

That seemed to truly snap you out of it, for some reason, and you let out a sound somewhere between a cough and a laugh.

“Annie, I think you mean soulmate.”

“Yeah, that!” She started jumping up and down, and your face grew a crooked smile. You looked back at Chan, who was watching the interaction warmly. His eyes met yours when he realized you were looking at him, and he smiled at you in a way that made your heart do an anxious little tap dance, like he had known you for years and wanted to catch up.

In a way, it was true.

“So…” You said, “You said your name was Chan?”

He giggled a little at your breathless tone, and you grinned giddily. You felt like a teenager. It was honestly a bit embarrassing.

“You wanna get some lunch? My treat.” He sounded insistent, but his eyes were still creased up with his welcoming smile. “I insist.”

“What are the odds?” You asked with a smile, having finished your lunch—some pizza from the mall Chan had insisted on paying for—a few minutes ago, now watching Annie run around over on the indoor playground with some other kids there. Chan was sitting across from you at the table. “The last thing I was expecting was to find you, y’know?”

“I think there was a higher priority on your list of things you needed to find at the moment.”

“Ha, ha,” You deadpanned, “You’re hilarious. Tell another one.”

“Alright, what do you call a—”

“No!” You said with a giggle. “I heard enough earlier when you told me the one about the yakuza and the jacuzzi.”

Chan laughed gleefully, resting his chin on his hand. The string had since disappeared—they disappeared some ten minutes after meeting your soulmate. “But really, it is pretty crazy. I read a few weeks ago that only 3 out of every 10 people actually manage to find their soulmates.”

He didn’t respond but his eyes studied your face, gaze fixated on the bridge of your nose. “Call me biased,” He murmured, “But you’re very beautiful.”

You looked down, feeling your face heat up. “Thank you. You’re pretty handsome yourself.”

“Ah, thank you.” It was Chan’s turn to smile bashfully, the tips of his ears turning red. He looked down at his hands, which were on the table. A brief silence settled over the both of you, and you pondered over how he had been during lunch, gentle in his questioning but also incredibly sweet whenever Annie said something or asked a question, and how he always looked genuinely interested in what she had to say.

As a single mom, you never really had time to date. But both times that you given it a try, they didn’t seem to care about Annie or what she had to say. But here, now, Chan had been so happy to explain how he made music when she asked, or let her have the last slice of pizza, and it didn’t come across as disingenuous. It didn’t have the slightly condescending lilt some people put on to talk to younger children. He didn’t speak slowly and loudly, but he was aware that he needed to simplify his language given that she was still a little kid. He took things at her pace, and you could see that Annie warmed up to him instantly.

Still, you were a little wary.

“Look,” You said softly, eyes turning to the playground, looking for Annie. When you found her, chasing a little boy around, you smiled softly. “I’m really excited to have found you, Chan. It’s something I’ve always wanted but never expected. But… y’know, I’m a mom, above everything else. Ever since she was born, Annie’s been, and always will be my number one priority. I need you to understand that.”

You met his eyes again, and they had turned more serious, attentive to your words. “I totally understand that, Y/N. I wouldn’t want to come between you and her, and I don’t expect you to drop everything for me. Especially if it involves Annie.”

“Thank you,” You answered softly, nodding. “It’s hard for her. Her dad and I broke up a few months after she was born, and she sees him maybe once or twice a year. She’s in such an important age for her development, and needs me just as much as I need her, y’know?”

He nodded again, humming in accordance. “Of course. I’m totally willing to wait if you’re not ready yet, or if you want to set certain boundaries for her wellbeing... Whatever you feel is best for her.”

Slowly, his hand made its way to rest on top of yours. He was almost cautious about it, brushing his fingers gently against your knuckles. “You really made my day.” His voice was warm, eyes full of mirth. You smiled. “You made mine too. Because I found my soulmate and you stopped me from having a heart attack by saving the day and finding Annie. I’m never gonna thank you enough for that.”

He laughed. “I’m glad I was able to help. It led me to you.”

Lowering your head as your heart skipped a beat, you looked at his hand on yours, then at Annie, and finally back at him. A rosebud of hope began to bloom in your chest.

Seeing his dimples as his eyes shone, you had a solid feeling it wouldn’t ever wilt.

taglist: @decembermoonskz

#rebootkpopnet #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #kpop fluff #kpop au #kpop scenarios #skz scenarios #skz x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #kpop angst #skz angst #stray kids angst #my writing

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ejlovespie · 3 years

Text

I know You

(Part 2 of 2)

Fandom: Supernatural - Author: EJ (@ejlovespie)

Summary: The reader was attacked and stabbed by a shapeshifter disguised as the man she loves. Will she be able to face her trauma and finally tell him how she feels? Read Part 1.

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1726

Warnings: Graphic Violence/Near Death/Fear/Angst/Insecurity/Suicidal thoughts and descriptions/Eventual Fluff

***Part 1 has GRAPHIC details of being stabbed and assaulted. Do NOT read if violence and descriptions of assault (sexual comments and being thrown onto a bed) are a trigger for you. Part 2 has suicidal thoughts and descriptions. Please do NOT read if suicide is a trigger for you. ***

Reader’s Request: Can you pleaaase write a dean x reader angst+fluff+near death one shot where they have feelings for each other but they're too insecure to say anything about it, and then one day the reader is in a motel room alone waiting for dean and Sam to come back from somewhere, and suddenly shapeshifter dean comes in and stabs her multiple times and leaves her bleeding on the floor until real Dean and Sam come back.

A/N: Thank you for the request Anon!! This one was tough to write but I really hope you enjoy it. I am SO SORRY it took so long. Any feedback is greatly appreciated and any mistakes are mine. Thank you for reading! :)

You were used to Dean Winchester being a constant in your dreams. That was what happened when you were in love with someone. You used to eagerly await sleep and the gift your mind would give you at night. Dreaming of Dean had been the only form of intimacy you were allowed...Until now. You still dreamt of him but your dreams had turned into nightmares. Images of being thrown on the bed, those dark, hate filled eyes staring into you, a knife plugging into your body. Every night you woke up screaming in terror. Sam would run to your room and turn on the lights before hugging and comforting you but his kindness had made you feel worse. The truth was you hated yourself. Dean was gone because of you, apart from his brother because of you.

It had been two months since the attack. You spent four weeks in the hospital before being discharged and given a hundred pamphlets on trauma. Dean had come by a few times but stopped trying when you would see him and immediately have a major panic attack. Eventually, he left and never came back. Sam had told you he was hunting the shifter and giving you space to heal and that had made you feel worse. Knowing you pushed him away made your chest ache. You LOVED Dean Winchester and your heart broke knowing he had found you and rushed you to the hospital. He had saved your life and stayed by your side every day and you repaid him by losing your shit whenever he walked in the room. Logically you knew what happened wasn’t Dean’s fault. You KNEW He didn’t do anything wrong but your reaction to seeing him was always the same. You didn’t see the man you loved when you looked into his eyes, only the nightmare you had lived through.

You and Sam had been staying at Bobby’s for the last month and every time you glanced at the single framed photo of the boys on the desk you broke out into a sweat. Eventually, the photo had disappeared and you hated the relief you had felt. There were days you were so miserable and you hated yourself so much that you wondered why you had survived the attack in the first place. You would have been better off dead. At first you tried to read through the information from the hospital’s psychiatrist but you ended up throwing all the pamphlets away. You had taken her advice and tried going out and for a walk but anxiety had forced you back inside, tears streaming down your face. Sam would try to talk to you, had even tried getting you out of the house to hit the library with him but you couldn’t do it. Every day, the grief you felt grew until you couldn’t take it anymore.

Waking up from yet another night terror, you grabbed the knife you had been hiding in your bedside table. Pulling it out, you stared at the blade for a long time while silent tears ran down your face. You clutched the knife in your hands and let yourself feel all of the pain, all of the grief and self-hatred you had been carrying. It washed over you until numbness took its place. You couldn’t live like this. You thought about Sam and Bobby and all of the people you had helped over the years. Would they forgive you? You thought about Dean, the man you loved; the man you missed more than anything and fought against the fear you now associated with him. Suddenly, a memory flooded your thoughts.

You were driving down a long country road in the Impala. Dean was driving and blaring one of his tapes, singing along to it like he didn’t have a care in the world. You were surrounded by green fields and you smiled at the cows and horses grazing lazily. Your hair whipped around your face and you smiled when you breathed in deeply. You smelled the grass and wet pavement outside but even more strongly you could smell Dean’s cologne and the familiar leather and gasoline smell of the car. It was your favorite smell in the world. You looked at Dean when he turned the music down. With his familiar grin he asked, “What are you smiling about?”

You looked at him then, into his gorgeous green eyes, and you studied his face. His full lips and perfect smile, straight nose, and strong jaw. He was so handsome and his focused gaze made you blush. That was the moment you realized you had fallen in love with the older Winchester. It washed over you, a feeling of pure happiness and comfort. Dean was smiling at you and he poked you in the side before asking, “C’mon Y/N. What are you so happy about?”

Turning away from him, you swatted his hand away playfully. “Keep your eyes on the road Winchester. I don’t feel like dying today.”

Chuckling, Dean complied, placing his hand back on the wheel and looking back at the open road. He continued, “You look happy is all..you’re smiling bigger than I have seen before. So, what’s up?”

I love you, you thought to yourself. Instead of answering him you asked a question of your own. “Why are you so happy? I know you and you aren’t this happy unless you’re eating pie.” Laughing again, Dean shrugged before turning the music up and singing along loudly with the song. You laughed too and started to sing along with him, content and happy living in the moment.

The memory faded. Looking down at the knife in your arms, you threw it on the ground and forced yourself to settle your breathing. ‘I know you.’ You said it out loud to yourself and forced yourself to think about your Dean. His smile. His laugh. His eyes. ‘I know you.’ Him singing along to the music in his car. ‘I know you.’ Him hugging you to him whenever one of you was sad. ‘I know you.’ Him fixing up his beloved car at Bobby’s. ‘I know you.’ The two of you drinking together and his goofy grin as he teased you about the faces you made. ‘I know you.’ His fierce love and protectiveness for his family. ‘I know you.’ All of the memories had your eyes welling up again and you quickly got up and slid out the front door so you didn’t wake Sam or Bobby. Running down the drive, you collapsed in the garage and began to sob. When your tears finally began to run out you gasped out the truth you had never said out loud before.

“I am so fucking sorry Dean..I love you so fucking much and I..I miss you..I..I can’t do this without you because my life isn’t worth living without you in it. You’re my best friend and loving you has made me stronger. It has made me feel truly alive and I..I am so sorry...I know you. I fucking know you and I know that thing wasn’t you! Please come back.”

You jumped at a sound behind you and whipped your head around to see Dean. He stood a few yards away with unshed tears in his eyes. Relief filled you when you realized you didn’t feel panic rising up inside you. For the first time in two months you were only seeing your Dean. A smile spread across your face before falling. “..You heard what I said, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question. You could tell by the look on his face he had. Dean slowly walked toward you, pausing a few feet away and crouching down. “I love you too, Y/N. I..I didn’t know it until I almost lost you but I do. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me..You made me feel again and if you had died, you would have taken a piece of me with you.”

Gasping, you flung yourself to him and let Dean wrap his arms around you. You buried your face in his chest and clung to him, inhaling his cologne. You felt his hands on your back, rubbing small, calming circles. With a watery smile, you reached up and fingered the pendant on his necklace. It brought you instant comfort and you repeated your new mantra silently in your head. ‘I know you.’ This was your Dean. You would always know the difference. You both stayed like that for a long time, embracing each other. Neither of you even noticed when Sam walked up, looking for Y/N, and then backing away as to not ruin the moment. Eventually, you pulled apart and just looked at each other. Tentatively, Dean placed a hand on your cheek, pausing to study your face for approval. You nodded and he rubbed his thumb over your skin.

His eyes were so soft and he was looking at you with so much love and tenderness it made you self conscious for the first time in months. Glancing away in embarrassment you wished you were wearing something other than a baggy, stained shirt and sweatpants. You knew how you looked and were all too conscious of the fact that you were an absolute mess. Thinking about your puffy red eyes and matted hair had you cringing. How could this gorgeous man love you in the same way you loved him. You were so far out of his league. Dean’s fingers gently lifted your chin to look up at him before brushing some hair out of your face. “Please don’t hide from me, beautiful. I have missed you so much. I know it's going to take some time but I want you to know I found the son of a bitch. He’s dead..And I promise I will NEVER let anyone touch you again. I will keep you safe. I hope that helps..”

Not sure what to say you just nodded and hugged him again. You would analyze that information and how you felt about it later. For now, you were going to let yourself be held by the man you loved, a man who apparently loved you back, and be grateful for the fact that you were alive and finally together.

Tags:

@akshi8278

@wellfuckmyexistence

@beabutterfly987

@deandaydreaming

@slamminmine

@deandreamernp

@the-white-shadow-of-hydra

@lyarr24

@the-mystery-spot

#dean winchester #dean #Sam Winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff #dean angst #dean fluff #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural angst #supernatural fluff #spn #spn fanfiction #spn angst #spn fluff

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years

Text

A Lack of Color by SisterSpooky1013

2403 words / Rated M / Read it here on AO3

This is a Darkest Timeline fic. No fluff to be found.

Part of my Inspired By Songs series, this work is inspired by A Lack of Color by Deathcab for Cutie.

2010

The phone rang and she checked the time. She’d stopped answering his calls after 8, too heartbroken by the slur in his words and the pain in his voice, knowing that she was the one who caused them. If she could access the purely logical part of her mind she knew that it was his depression that was responsible for the fact that they could no longer be together, and his own actions after she left were the responsibility of no one but him, but when she heard the choked back sobs around his pleas for her to come home, she felt guilt so profound it twisted in her gut like a knife. Even her mother had gently questioned her as to whether leaving him alone was the right thing to do, whether that would really help him get better. She’d tried to explain that the point of leaving wasn’t to make him better, it was to save herself from going down with him, but she often wondered if this life she’d built for herself alone was much better than the one she’d left behind. Was coming home to an empty house devoid of the clatter of his keyboard and tiny piles of sunflower seed shells preferable to living with his ghost? At least when they shared a home she knew he was okay.

Home. Where was her home? Was it this impeccable, modern house just outside the city? Was it her mother’s house, where she’d spent her teenage years? Was it her apartment in Georgetown, long since occupied by someone new who would never know the depth of loss and joy that lived in its walls? Was it apartment 42, where she had loved, lost, and had Mulder returned to her? Was it the unremarkable home in the country she’d shared with him? These places all held meaning and memories, significance and importance in the story of her life, but in the end they were just buildings. Sticks and boards and concrete that housed each tear and yawn and laugh, that made space for her to fall apart and rebuild again, countless times. If home is where your heart is, then Mulder is her home, and he always will be. There is no distance great enough to separate her heart from his, even that of death or divorce, grief, pain, depression. Depression so profound that it snuffed out the spark in his eyes and drained the life from his smile. Depression that robbed him of his passion for everything, including her. Depression that made her feel invisible and unimportant. Depression that destroyed her home.

It was just past 7, so she picked up the phone, hoping that a sober voice would come through from the other end.

“Hello?”

“Hey. How are you?” He sounded good, like he had some energy. She was hopeful.

“I’m okay, just reading. How are you, Mulder?”

“I’m okay. Hanging in there.”

Silence hung between them. She didn’t know what to say. Didn’t want to ask him why he’d called or he may think she didn’t want to talk to him, so she said nothing. She heard him swallow on the other end of the line.

“I miss you” he breathed, and she could feel the ache forming in her rib cage. She closed her eyes.

“I know. I miss you too.” She fought to keep her voice neutral. She didn’t want to go to the dark place, not tonight.

“Will you come over?” He asked, and she noticed that he didn’t say ‘come home’ just ‘come over,’ which was different than all the other times. He sounded more alert, and she felt something akin to hope tug at her heart.

“Uh, I can, sure, if you need me to.”

“I do need you.” His voice was low and she felt a twinge between her legs. This wasn’t the voice of the Mulder she knew and loved, but she could hear him in there, underneath all the hopelessness. She flashed on the desire in his hooded eyes when he used to hover over her, devouring her body with animal-like urgency. What she wouldn’t give for him to touch her like that again.

“Okay, I’ll be there in about a half hour.”

He sighed, maybe from relief. “Thank you, see you soon.” The line went dead.

She had the urge to shower, to shave, to put on a pair of the sexy panties that were now relegated to the back of her underwear drawer, but she resisted. Too many nights she had paraded around in front of him only to be ignored. Too many times she had reached for him to find him unresponsive, not returning her embrace. Too many times she had slipped her hand into his boxers only to have him push it away, rejecting her advances. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, recalling the ache in her bones as she longed for physical contact. She had gone 7 years without having him in that way, but found that it wasn’t as easy to revert back to a platonic partnership. It was more than just desire, though that was there too. Their physical connection, once established, rooted her to the Earth in a way she never knew was possible. When he was inside her she was more present, more aware of her place in space and time than she had ever been or ever would be again. She hadn’t known that she wasn’t really alive until he breathed his hot, salty breath into her lungs and ignited her. He was her oxygen and without him, she suffocated and slowly faded away. She only barely escaped before she died out for good.

Settling on brushing her teeth as the sole means of preparation, she got in her car and drove to his house, their house, feeling nervous and afraid. Stopping to get out and open the gate at the end of their long driveway, she was reminded of so many nights coming home from work, wondering if today were a good day. If she’d get some shred of the man she loved, or spend the evening staring at his closed office door, eating dinner alone. Going to bed alone. Waking up alone.

“Quelquefois, on est seul chez les hommes;” The quote from Le Petit Prince had never meant so much to her as it did then.

Pulling up in front of the house, she took in the neglected lawn, the porch swing he’d built for her dilapidated, the steps rotting. The house itself seemed to embody their relationship; initially bare and full of potential, blooming into a safe haven with the care of their love, only to collapse under the weight of his demons. She killed the engine but stayed in the car, debating turning around and leaving. Why was she here? What did she stand to gain from answering his call? It was pure hope that drove her. Unrelenting need. As much as she tried she couldn’t give up on him, on them. Would she ever be able to truly walk away from him? Only time would tell. Today, it would seem, was not that day.

As she sat in her turmoil, she saw light escape the front door and his tall shadowy frame appeared, his silhouette gaunt, his hair wild and unkempt. Despite everything, her heart leapt and she felt drawn to him, her true North pulling her magnetically towards home. She exited the car and walked towards him slowly, trying to read his body language and set her expectations realistically. As she maneuvered the steps he came forward, holding out his hand to her.

“Those are getting a little perilous, I keep meaning to fix them” he joked good naturedly, the soft pads of his fingers brushing her palm. Not the hands of someone who was going to hold a hammer anytime soon, she noted. Not the calloused hands of the man who built this porch himself 7 years ago. They stood awash in the light that poured from the open door, hands still clasped. She searched his eyes and all she found was sadness, which was actually an improvement. The last time she’d had occasion to meet his hazel irises, they were empty, devoid of any feeling good or bad. He was gone entirely. Moving from his eyes, she noticed that his cheeks were ruddy and dry without her reminding him to moisturize. It looked like he’d probably shaved recently, though now it was grown into an almost-beard. His lips, though, they were still him. She bit her cheek to keep from crying, wanting more than anything to kiss that mouth, to tug that lip between her teeth. She closed her eyes.

“Thanks for coming over” he said, his voice flat.

“Of course. What did you need?” They’d done this dance before. Where’s my birth certificate? What’s the password for the online banking account? Where is the key to turn off the gas fireplace for the summer? When are you coming home? He always found a way to lure her back in. she could never resist him.

“I just wanted to see you” he replied, and she was surprised to see him roving his eyes over her body, sighing as they came to rest on her cleavage. When was the last time he’d looked at her that way? There was that throb again between her legs. She was afraid to move.

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her shoulders in a hug, squeezing her to him. She stiffened at first in surprise, but then melted into him, her arms threading around his waist and her head falling against his chest. Home. He smelled metallic, the signature scent of his sweat. No one else smelled the way he did. It was what she imagined the core of the Earth might smell like. He sighed against her and she felt the rush of air from his nose blast against the crown of her head. What a specific feeling to miss. What a strange loss to understand.

His arms loosened and slid down her sides, grazing the dip of her waist, then her hip, and finally passing over the curve of her ass where he gripped her, lifting her up. She inhaled sharply and moved her hands to his shoulders, allowing him to carry her inside and to their abandoned bedroom like a bride, only this was the end of the romance instead of the beginning. He laid her down on the bed and started to suck at her neck while fumbling with the button of her pants. Her eyes were wide on the ceiling, wanting to stop him and ask what he was doing, what it meant, but she didn’t. Even as her mind raced, her body was opening like a flower, straining towards the sunlight of his touch, desperate for nourishment that had so long been withheld. She could feel that she was dripping wet, and she allowed him to strip her pants from her legs in one fast motion, pushing her shirt up to reveal her breasts as he unbuckled his belt. The animalistic way Mulder wanted her had always been a huge turn on, the lust in his eyes as he tore at her clothes and feasted on her body sending her over the edge.

But that was not what was happening now.

He wasn’t looking at her. He hadn’t kissed her, not once. He didn’t want her, he wanted her body. Freeing his erection from his jeans without even bothering to pull them down, he moved to line himself up with her entrance. He still had his T shirt on, her shirt askew as he grasped one breast in his palm, pushing inside her. She let out a single cry as her long-neglected body accommodated him once more, and he didn’t even look up. Didn’t ask if she was okay, hadn’t checked to see if she was ready. She could admit that it felt good, but not that good. This wasn’t how they made love, or had sex, or even fucked. Never once had he skipped right to pleasing himself. His strict “ladies first” policy was a non-negotiable, a given. So as he barreled into her, his eyes on her breasts, she brought her hand to cover her eyes as hot tears rushed down the sides of her face, collecting in her ears.

He finished within a minute, grunting as he came inside her before collapsing on her chest. Eventually he rolled off of her and pulled up his jeans, then grabbed her by the waist so that she was spooned against him, naked from the waist down.

“I’m sorry, I know that probably wasn’t the greatest for you. I’ll make it up to you next time” he whispered hotly into her ear. He held her until he fell asleep while she lie there, shell shocked, realizing that as bad as this all had been, it could get worse. She thought that being completely ignored was the worst way he could hurt her, but she was wrong. This, being treated like a vessel, was so much worse.

She slipped out of the bed and found her clothes on the floor, leaving him snoring. As she walked out the front door and carefully navigated the porch steps, she vowed to herself that she would not set foot in this house ever again.

It was not a promise she would keep.

*Authors note: “Quelquefois, on est seul chez les hommes” translates to “sometimes, one is alone among men”

Tagging @today-in-fic

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #sculder #x files #x files fanfic #darkest timeline

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jeonjk0504 · 3 years

Note

why didn’t you say anything about the racism bts have faced these past days :(

Hey anon!

I actually haven‘t been online here because of the racism debate. I was on twitter and was supporting it there on two accounts nonstop! if you want to follow me, my @ is also jeonjk0504 :)

You are completely right though, i should have spoken up on my platform here sooner, to educate my followers on this really important matter!

If i make mistakes or should word things differently, please let me know, as you can tell i‘m not native.

The short version:

Credits to @ squishykosmos (twt)!

What happened?

3 days ago, the german radio host Matthias Mattuschik from the station Bayern3 spew racist remarks about BTS because of their MTV Unplugged cover of coldplay. He is a fanboy of coldplay and only wanted to introduce their song ‚Fix you‘ but somehow it was necessary to explain to his listeners why it was an utter insult that BTS had an MTV unplugged concert (he called it paradox, because it‘s a boyband) where they were allowed to cover his favorite song. Coldplay allowed the cover by the way and even commented on it positively.

Here are two links from his original rant, translated in english:

https://twitter.com/bts_updates_ger/status/1365211269133971458?s=21 (Part 1)

https://twitter.com/atinystrawbery/status/1365052883771785219?s=21 (Part 2)

As a german i know that to other people our language sounds quite agressive in general, but this is a whole different level. This isn‘t said in a jokingly way, it‘s pure hatred.

He called BTS a virus against which hopefully there will be a vaccine soon, that their cover of coldplay is blasphemy and that they are little pisser who should get a 20-year vacation in North Korea. Considering the rising violence against Asians all over the world because of Covid, his speech is extremely harmful and normalizes hate against Asians apart from the fact that it was racism in it’s purest form. Why the wish for a South Korean Group to have vacation in the North Korean dictatorship is inhumane and racist, i hopefully don‘t have to explain further. He even said, he can‘t be xenophobic, because he drives a korean brand car (which turned out to be japanese). The new ‚i can‘t be racist, i have a black friend‘.

This also hasn‘t been the first time, in 2018 he made an antisemetic comparison between smoker and jews for which he got a little attention, but no consequences.

Furthermore ARMY dug up a picture on his instagram from 2020 with the caption ‚ Is more evidence needed?!?,‘

A short note:

What makes this even more infuriating is that the radio station is regulated by public-law and german citizens are OBLIGATED to pay for it. We literally are forced to pay money to a radio station that broadcasts openly racist slurs! And no, it‘s not allowed. They have policies that explicitly say they are not allowed to discriminate, they have to support diversity and have to be politically and economically independant.

Do they give a fuck? Apparently not really.

Did Bayern3 answer the hashtags and the pressure?

They did, first came a short nonpology where they said that the show, which Matthias Matuschik is broadcasting, is known for his direct and honest opinions and that he could have worded it better. They are sorry if anyone felt insulted, which is excusing the feeling of the fans, but not the act in itself.

After Army answered with the hashtag ‚Racism is not an opinion‘ and various media coverage surfaced, they posted a second ‚apology‘, where they -again- said that they are distancing themselves from what was said and Matthias has always been an avid supporter of refugees so he is very far away from being a racist. (Supporting refugees doesn’t excuse you from saying racist things though.) Matthias stated that he is shocked from the reactions, that he is ‚sorry if people felt what he said was racist‘ and that his family is getting death threats. (which is in no way acceptable of course.) They would review what was said so it doesn‘t happen again.

Here you can read the statements in german and translated in english:

First statement: https://twitter.com/bts_updates_ger/status/1365087239756259330?s=21

Second statement: https://twitter.com/bts_updates_ger/status/1365305564050382849?s=21

This would have probably been the beginning of a conversation, if Matthias wouldn‘t have went to facebook after his second apology to like a supporting post that basically stated that the topic is way overhyped and in the 80s you were allowed to say your opinion without people getting butthurt (this is a short form.) He completely revised his remorse literally the same day after the updated apology and supported a statement that was gaslighting the people who critized him. You can read the facebook post here:

https://twitter.com/traveltomyrm/status/1365321397342461957?s=21

Since then: Nothing. My mom told me yesterday they‘re playing dynamite a lot, i told her to switch the channel.

News Coverage

Thankfully, we got a lot of support from I-ARMY and K-ARMY, otherwise we wouldn‘t have been able to trend the hashtags day and night and kept them in the top categories in germany and worldwide. We also got a lot of support from international media who called out the racism and put them into context in really amazing articles. (Also K-Media and J-Media but i only have screenshots, no links) Here are a few of them:

https://rollingstoneindia.com/xenophobic-german-presenters-comments-about-bts-are-just-the-tip-of-the-racist-iceberg/

https://www.forbes.com/sites/bryanrolli/2021/02/26/bts-were-once-again-the-subject-of-racist-on-air-remarks-and-received-a-pathetic-non-apology/

We even got celebrities like halsey, max, lauv, steve aoki, JJ Ryan, DJ Swivel, Liam McEwan, Zara Larsson, MTV UK, Columbia Records and some more bring attention to the issue and show their support for BTS in the face of racism.

This support was probably the reason why we even got a second ‚apology‘, because guess what? German media ain‘t having it. Since the beginning of our protest, i think i saw 2 articles in total which actually called it racism, various newspapers and online magazines were downplaying it by talking about ‚insults‘ and concentrating on Matthias calling BTS pisser instead of quoting the actual racist remarks he made. We got no TV news whatsoever. So naturally, german locals looking at this protest think that Fans are going on a rampage because their favorite boygroup got insulted.

It has been maddening. The radio station and host have been trying to sit this whole thing out for days, in hope we lose energy over the weekend and it‘s draining to not be heard or taken seriously. For me it‘s still a priviledged perspective, because i don‘t have to bear consequences when this thing is over, one way or another. But for Asians in our country, also some of my friends, this horror in times of covid will continue. The lack of serious German Media coverage has been frustrating and embarrasing to say the least, but also shown again, that the topic gets overshadowed by prejudices against KPop, the fanbase and Asians as part of satirical fun (which it isn‘t).

Why is that?

This is my personal take and not a deep analysis, just my personal observations: Germany might be progressive in a lot of aspects, but they still have deeply ingrained every day racism against asians and they have a huge problem realizing and admitting to that. We don‘t have a lot of asian representation and there is a huge alieniation from asians for a lot of german 50+ (also less, but those are the ones in power mostly). Racism against Asians is not seen enough and people don‘t empathize, partly because they‘re white privileged people who don‘t have to live with certain stigma, partly because they simply don‘t care to educate themselves about minorities in their own country. This ignorance is widespread, if it doesn‘t happen in front of your doorstep, it‘s probably nonexistant. It‘s also not only reserved for Asians, january 2021 we had a talkshow where 5 white german people talked happily about what minorities such as Romani people think as insulting or racist. They did get a lot of backleash because obviously they talk about matters, without letting minorities be part of the discussion, but real consequences? Nope.

I doubt that this protest will get Matthias Matuschik fired (which it should if you are openly racist on a public platform), because the pressure is too low and the radio station has shown with their first statement that they thought it‘s rather funny than problematic. But i don’t know what‘s going to happen. Apart from being an ARMY, i am an adult who condemns racism in any way or form. Why german media chooses to overlook the essence of the debate and makes it a hystercial fanbase issue is beyond me.

If you want to have a look yourself, you can follow German Fanbase accounts, such as @ BTS_UPDATES_GER for updates in german and english.

And at last, here is a thread on how german media reproduces Anti Asian Racism : https://twitter.com/storiesbythuy/status/1366073706817196046?s=21

German Armys are trying to come up with a plan to gain more attention for the topic at the moment, so we‘ll see how things turn out! Please support us if possible!

#bts #bts germany #army against racism

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groovesnjams · 2 years

Video

youtube

“Luv Attack” by Lou Christie

DV:

At 79 years, problematic fave Lou Christie is one of the oldest artists we’ve covered in a while; lemme try to contextualize him a bit. Christie’s one of rock ‘n’ roll’s great also-rans: remembered for 1966′s “Lightnin’ Strikes” and maybe for 1962′s “Two Faces Have I” too, if he’s lucky. But the fact is that his falsetto was always much more precisely deployed, and to greater effect, than Frankie Valli’s much more famous one. That Christie’s production for girl group The Tammys is still genuinely wild 60 years later, and inhabits an alternate dimension from contemporaries like Phil Spector. And most of all, that Paint America Love, his attempt at creating a massive artistic statement about America And Its Problems like SMiLE or What’s Goin On, was an artistic triumph despite being a commercial flop. It’s a mournful, impressionistic, ecology-focused record that also makes time for an upbeat bop about chuck wagons (traveling frontier kitchens) in between impassioned calls for peace and melodramatic character studies. The record is wildly ambitious, filled with bangers, and so deeply idiosyncratic that there’s no mystery why it wasn’t a success. Christie retrenched to country music for a while, and as far as I can tell has spent the past few decades sporadically releasing lounge-style covers of oldies (his “Heart of Saturday Night” looks like fun.)

“Luv Attack” is free-floating; it might be his first new song in years, but it’s not even mentioned on Christie’s Geocities-core website (which isn’t dead - it lists 2022 tour dates!) Whatever the song’s provenance, it is inexplicable, which is what makes it feel so much like a Lou Christie production. The verses and the beat are pure 60s pastiche, but the hook? It’s like someone gave Christie the barest explanation of how pitch-shifting works, told him to listen to “Believe” for inspiration, and then left him to figure it out from there. Let me put this another way: I was absolutely sure that hyperpop had died with a stake through its heart when RuPaul released a soulless cash-in last month, but Lou Christie warbling “I’ve got a luv attack/ Shoop shoop!!” like he’s a futuristic robot contains exactly the kind of unhinged glee that could singlehandedly resurrect the genre. Because “Luv Attack” is so close to being a simple nostalgia play, a basic 60s revival song to change things up in an oldies-filled setlist, the way Christie drops this alien processing into the mix feels as sharp and strange and thrilling as anything he did in the 60s.

Who is "Luv Attack” for? Not the boomers that still mostly think of autotune as cheating, certainly. And not the youths who will never hear it, much less drop it into the nightcore sets where it clearly belongs, either. On some level the problem is - as it’s almost always been - that he’s Lou Christie: never quite in step with the trends, not nearly as appreciated as he should be. By the time this posts, “Luv Attack” may have broken 1K on YouTube, and that’s only if you count all three of the versions uploaded. Which is unfortunate, because it deserves to be remixed and played out at the highest possible volume in some tiny sweaty club I’m not cool enough to know about.

MG:

You know how cellphone cameras now have a “beauty” filter as the default setting? Listening to “Luv Attack,” I wonder if whatever software Lou Christie used to record this song came with autotune as a permanent solution to having to hear one’s own voice in panoramic stereo surround sound. Because most pictures are selfies, I kind of like the filter as a clumsy fix for lens distortion. Your nose isn’t really that big, but alas, neither is your skin so smooth! It’s a Rorschach test and your face every time you flip to front-facing. I can’t hear autotune in most songs. I can hear it here, but only at the end of the song when it becomes sort of gritty and mechanical, like a robot doused in water on the verge of a short. It’s a brilliant final note to “Luv Attack,” an obvious monster. What is the difference between our self-composed, auto-edited, compulsively reproduced portraits and Lou Christie’s debased, disguised, and untethered pop mania? Nothing, friends. Christie might be cheating his falsetto a bit, but when you’re beautiful, the computer only makes you more beautiful and 84 years did nothing to dull the immediate, thrilling beauty of “Luv Attack.”

#lou christie #luv attack #hyperpop #the tammys #music

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lilmissbacon · 3 years

Text

Frozen 3 concept

I'mma start off with explaining that I'm not the biggest fan of Frozen and I'm definitely not a fan of Elsa's character in general.

But as much as I love the songs and outfits of the second movie, the inconsistencies and how it never explains how sh🤬 works in the world with magic and such are just infuriating. As well as why the spirit that connects them controls ice which is just a variation of water. And how the Frozen franchise just loves to make Elsa more special within every installment.

I am so very tired of it. So I came up with a way that it could all be fixed and make sense if they make a third movie.

Also to note that Anna and Elsa are supposed to be two halves of the fifth spirit but that's VERY briefly touched in movie (quote: well actually a bridge has two sides and mother had two daughters) and Disney themselves take Elsa as the fifth spirit alone so that's stupid.

Why Elsa specifically controls ice

We all know how we're frustrated with the fact that Elsa is supposed to connect all the elements when she only controls ice.

But let's think about it from another prospective. The first movie is based about the seasons. It's a seasonal theme rather than an elemental theme like in its sequel. So why not bring that back?

The enchanted forest cannot be the ONLY place that has mystical spirits. What if there were three other forests with their own fifth spirits and each fifth spirit represented a season?

And each seasonal spirit's magic is a mix of two elements.

Elsa/Winter: Ice = water + air

Spring: Plants = water + earth

Summer: Lava = earth + fire

Fall: Lightning/Storms = air + fire

This still fits in with the fact that the fifth spirit can play back moments in time as well. Each spirit has their own Ahtohallan. Elsa's is made of ice because it's just frozen water and the water is was plays back those moments in time.

Spring's would be like an island made of plants, fungi and marsh. Plants have water running within them so they can take the form of moments in time like Elsa's ice statues.

Summer's would be a volcano with a river flowing through it. Lava and water can mix to create lava rocks. When doing so the memories within that water would be imbedded into the rocks they form and therefore be able to play moments in time as rock statues.

Autumn's would basically be a fog bank with almost ghostly figures making up the memories since fog is a mist, aka: water. Kinda like the scene where Elsa fights the wind spirit and their powers mix for a moment.

Where the others come from

For this, I decided to look around other lands within that side of the world that has legends of spirits. I decided upon:

Spring = Scotland

Summer = Arabia

Fall/Autumn = Japan

I chose for Arabia to be summer, of course , because it's a desert country so it very hot. Japan is autumn because it's culture and everything just always reminded be of the beauty of fall. And Scotland is spring because that's what was left and when I think of Scotland, I think of it's green forests and plants.

Nothing too deep.

Personalities

You think I'd make Summer hotheaded and spring, giddy and bouncy, right?

No, because you see, as I've stated in another post of mine; Why Frozen Doesn't Work In The Big Four, I explained how Elsa's personality reconciles more with summer. The opposite season of her own.

Elsa is kinda quiet, gentle, diplomatic, practical, worries silently and is angelically innocent (even though she doesn't deserve to be).

All are traits relating to summer. So if her personality is opposed to her season, then it'd be the same for the other fifth spirits.

Spring would be a leader, confident, energetic, true to a cause, dependable, easily irritated and stubborn.

Summer would be reserved, well mannered, a good listener, natural poise and pessimistic.

And autumn would be energetic, tender-hearted, optimistic, friendly and overly talkative.

How the spirits work

I fully believe that the spirits have no physical form but rather inhabit certain things. Basically possession but the spirits don't have control over themselves once they choose a vessel and depending on the solidarity of what their element is, determines what kind of vessel they need.

The wind spirit is said to be a playful spirit and would want to make its own choices. Being an element you can't hold, it doesn't really need a host.

Water is liquid and needs something to be it's host but doesn't necessarily need something alive. Therefore it can inhabit a small animal or it inhabits its own element, hence a water horse.

Fire isn't a solid or liquid but it's not necessarily a gas either. Fire always needs to burn on something in order to burn. Therefore it cannot just make out it's own body like water but it doesn't need a large vessel. Hence, a little salamander.

Earth is the most solid of them all so it would need multiple hosts in order to sustain itself. That's why there are multiple earth giants and not just one like the other spirits.

I believe the spirits don't have control over their actions once they choose a host because all the spirits (besides wind) seem to not know what's even going on most of the time. And that would explain why the spirits didn't get rid of the dam themselves, because their vessels didn't know that was the problem.

I also believe that they need a host to begin with because they are actually susceptible to death. As it has been confirmed that Elsa is NOT immortal and there wouldn't have been a legend of a fifth spirit if people hadn't seen one before.

It would also explain how the spirits drove the citizens out of Arendelle without physically being there; they managed to leave their hosts for a time in order to do so. Along with what the light that Elsa was following at Ahtohallan, was. The fifth spirit was able to sustain itself by staying in its birth place and activated the memory of Elsa's mom singing, to bring Elsa there and when Elsa's dress transforms is when the spirit possesses her.

Why does the fifth spirit need to be human? Because humans are more durable. The fifth spirit doesn't control anything completely solid like rock so it doesn't need multiple vessels but it also controls more than a single element, therefore is too much to figure out/control for just any animal.

That's why it chose a very young child to give it's powers to rather than the person who actually did the deed of saving their enemy. It needs to be someone who will have the time to learn and control their powers by adulthood.

(Despite Elsa not truly being worthy and being a horrible sister, she was already chosen at birth and she at least gets the job done. At everyone else's expense but still.)

Plot

How would the seasonal spirits meet? Why would they leave their homes for this? What brings them together?

The four sided snowflake represents the elements connected to the winter spirit. Every season would have their own version of this. But there are also four seasons just like there are four elements.

So, could there be a fifth spirit for the fifth spirits? A fifth spirit to connect the seasons and if so, what is it? What's their power?

I believe, much like the winter spirit called to Elsa, the ultimate fifth spirit will call all the seasonal spirit's to come together at a single location. Anna would come with Elsa as well, of course, and during their journey, they'd all eventually meet each other along the way.

Eventually Anna would start to feel a little neglected when Elsa keeps talking to / about the other people who also have magic. Anna doesn't wish for magic, but she wishes for Elsa to finally see herself and Anna as equals (because Elsa clearly wouldn't after finding others like herself, let's be real). So Anna goes off to have her own sort of "Show Yourself" moment and is the one to find the location they've been looking for which is where she becomes their fifth spirit; the Aurora Borealis.

It was in one of the original scripts for the first movie that Anna was gonna have the power to control the Aurora Borealis, but then the creators decided that took away from Elsa's agency for self isolation due to her powers.

It's true that Anna having been able to accomplish what she did without powers is one of her best attributes but Anna becoming the light spirit is really the only way she's gonna get any appreciation within the fan base or the disney community. Plus Anna's done all the work to begin with so she deserves it.

With the other spirits being seasonal & elemental, it would only make sense for the one to connect them all would be light.

But all the spirits also have an opposite to balance them out:

Fire | Water

Earth | Air

Winter | Summer

Spring | Autumn

So maybe the reason they were all being called there is because Light's opposite is Darkness and it's plotting to take them all out. They are in charge of keeping balance and darkness wants to create chaos. But you also need darkness for balance, so maybe someone else will be with them through the journey and become the vessel for darkness in order to control it. Because, again, spirits have no control once they have a host.

This could be a possible redemption arc for Hans. We could learn about what he's been through and what truly drove him to be the bad guy because from what we know of his brothers, they were really bad. I think he just really lost a nerve due to unintentional (or intentional) abuse and was trying to prove to his family that he was better than they believed. People who suffer from abuse can be irrational like that.

I think it would be a phenomenal thing for him to overcome his inner darkness while also taking control of the literal spirit of darkness.

Metaphorical-wise it's beautiful.

Art/Designs

I edited the other seasons + Anna off of concept art for Elsa's white dress while Hans is kinda my own creation but I still used his concept art for a base. Everything after that are purely original.

Location they are led to ⬇️

Let me know what you all think 👍

#frozen #frozen 2 #disney #fifth spirit #concept #elsa #anna #frozen 3

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crystal-methionine · 3 years

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The Post-Eurovision ranking and comments from an American that nobody asked for:

1. Switzerland 🇨🇭 Gjon’s Tears - Tout l’univers: I absolutely was enamored by this song, its artistry, and the artist. He can really sing and one of my early favorites from this year. So happy for him to get in the top 3 bc it was well deserved. 100/10

2. Italy 🇮🇹 Måneskin - Zitti e Buoni: Deserved winners. As queer as you can get and I am here for it. Another early favorite of mine constantly fighting with Switzerland for the top spot. 100/10

3. Iceland 🇮🇸 Dadi og Gagnamagnid - 10 Years: A beautiful song dedicated to his wife and deserved Top 5 for sure. Last year’s song would have won hands down so I’m bummed he couldn’t win the first one for Iceland but brilliant song and I hope the group stays together to produce more music. 99/10

4. Bulgaria 🇧🇬 Victoria - Growing Up Is Getting Old: Eurovision fandom will forever say Imaginary Friend or Ugly Cry was the better song to send, but I don’t think they would have won the contest either. This year was strong, and I personally think Growing Up was a perfect choice from Victoria. It deserved top 10 so I was pissed that it came 11th on the night and received so few televotes. 97/10

5. Ukraine 🇺🇦 Go_A - SHUM: To all y’all who said this wouldn’t qualify when the new version came out, eat those words hun. This was a masterpiece, and the live performances just elevated it further. Honestly, Kateryna could step on me, and I would let her. Who doesn’t love an ethnic modern fusion rave? 95/10

6. Serbia 🇷🇸 Hurricane - Loco Loco: I honestly have to say when it came out, it was never breaking my top 20, but here we are. This group of gals is amazing. The choreo, hairography, and the still great vocals won my gay ass over. They served and deserved top 10 in my eye. 90/10

7. Greece 🇬🇷 Stefania - Last Dance: Much like Serbia, I kinda dismissed this as a top 10 song at first, but after many listens and then the live shows, it was one of the best songs this year. Last year’s song was nowhere near a qualifier for me, and then I thought they had a good chance of being top 5 this year. Amazing improvement and can’t wait to see what comes next from Stefania. 80/10

8. Malta 🇲🇹 Destiny - Je me casse: Not going to lie, the studio definitely did more for me. It was up with Italy and Switzerland for winner contention until the live shows. Don’t get me wrong, Destiny is still amazing live, and the song is a deserved top 5 song. However, the costume and staging just really didn’t add to the song and I think detracted a bit. Her song last year was also much better in my opinion. 75/10

9. San Marino 🇸🇲 Senhit ft Flo Rida - Adrenalina: Oh boy this was a party, and the fact Flo Rida actually was there made it even better. The staging and costuming was absolutely camp, and I was here for it. This was definitely not underrated by fans beforehand, but the jury and televote were beyond robberies in my opinion. Granted I know the backing vocals were carrying the chorus a lot so in terms of vocals, I can see where this song got dinged, but this should have been San Marino’s best ever result at Eurovision, and it wasn’t so I’m mad. 60/10

10. France 🇫🇷 Barbara Pravi - Voila: The new Edith Piaf and probably one of the most representative of the country’s culture for a song. A definite deserved runner up on the night but for me 10th place. I loved the staging, the costume, the emotions. It was all right for Eurovision and me. 50/10

11. Cyprus 🇨🇾 Elena Tsingarou - El Diablo: Come through Cyprus with another female pop banger. I’d say if the formula ain’t broke don’t fix it, but wasn’t really enough to crack top 10 this year. Another early favorite of mine this year but soon got eclipsed. Still going to be listening to El Diablo for a while. 49/10

12. Russia 🇷🇺 Manizha - Russian Woman: I can’t lie that at first, this song was absolutely trash to me but quickly rose the ranks and became one of my faves. Same thing happened last year with Uno. We also always love a good female empowerment moment with the native language thrown in. Manizha is a girlboss without the gaslighting and a true queen. Deserved top 10 the night of. 40/10

13. Lithuania 🇱🇹 The Roop - Discoteque: An earworm for first listen and was top 10 for a while for me but like Cyprus, lost out to some others. No doubt this is a deserved top 10 the night of. 35/10

14. Croatia 🇭🇷 Albina - Tick Tock: The first song to get me pressed on it’s placement. Deserved to be in the final over both Israel and Norway (please come for me I don’t care). They freakin rocked that stage during the semis and the song is absolutely a bop. Albina deserved better. 30/10

15. Sweden 🇸🇪 Tusse - Voices: A beautiful song by an amazing artist. Sure the lyrics were a bit cliche Eurovision but guess what...it’s Eurovision. I can hear the voices. Keep carrying on Tusse. 25/10

16. Albania 🇦🇱 Anxehla Peristeri - Karma: This song grew on me a lot. I liked it but wasn’t a don’t skip for a while on my playlist. The live performance changed it for me. She slayed and the staging was everything for Miss Thing. Also native language brownie points. 24/10

17. Finland 🇫🇮 Blind Channel - Darkside: Before you come for me for having this at 17th, keep reading. I’m not a big fan of the lyrics but the song is absolutely fantastic. This style of music isn’t something I pull out on a playlist often, but I had my middle fingers up for this one (and pointed at Germany but we’ll discuss later). Deserved top 10 as they rocked it on stage. 20/10

18. The Netherlands 🇳🇱 Jeangu Macrooy - Birth of a New Age: I absolutely do not understand the hate for this song. I was also a huge fan of Grow last year so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised for being generally alone again. The fact it got 0 points in the televote and only 11 in the jury is not surprising but extremely disappointing to me. This song is a masterpiece much like the ones ranked above it. Jeangu, you are amazing and deserved so much better than this. 20/10

19. Belgium 🇧🇪 Hooverphonic - The Wrong Place: Fantastic song but fantastic artists. Always here for a dark pop moment. Gonna go get my own Johnny Cash T-shirt. 15/10

20. Spain 🇪🇸 Blas Cantó - Voy a Quedarme: Such a heartfelt ballad. I enjoyed it quite a bit and don’t understand the hate it has. Didn’t deserve 0 points in the televote. 14/10

21. Denmark 🇩🇰 Fyr og Flamme - Øve Os På Hinanden: Look we all know this song is cheesy but it’s the cheesiest Velveeta queso loco so it’s ranked so high in my opinion. This is a nod to the whacky and weird Eurovision I love. It’s always in my head and I always find myself dancing along. Deserved to be in the final over two of the songs in Semi 2. 13/10

22. Azerbaijan 🇦🇿 Efendi - Mata Hari: As far as the song goes, it’s enjoyable, but the stage show was a hot mess in my opinion. The choreo looked a mess and the different sheer legging configurations on the backup dancers was not the correct fashion choice in my opinion as I was distracted by the thought of why are they all different. Did deserve their spot in the final though. 12/10

23. Moldova 🇲🇩 Natalia Gordienko - Sugar: The studio version of this song is a heavily replayed one on my playlist bc of the drop and dance-ability of the song. However the downfall of the song was it’s live performance. The staging was fine and the choreo was great but those attempted sexy whisper vocals were not the choice to go with. I don’t want to sugar-coat this 😝 so they were terrible. Glad she made it but I felt her position in the final was one of just pure luck. 11/10

24. UK 🇬🇧 James Newman - Embers: The nul points was a huge ass oof. This song isn’t bad but I can see where people didn’t vote for it bc it’s not super memorable in terms of who all was participating this year. I like the song and always sing and dance along. 10/10

25. Israel 🇮🇱 Eden Alene - Set Me Free: This is how to do a revamp and be successful. Eden is a fantastic artist who can clearly sing, but the live performance was not all that sans the whistle tones. Yet the whistle tones aside, the song is lacking a lot. When looking back at the songs available, this one should not have been the selected one. I was always on the fence with this one and still am. 9.5/10

26. Czechia 🇨🇿 Benny Cristo - Omaga: The live definitely hurt this song in the first minute and a half. The second half was absolutely what should have happened in terms of vocals. Still like the song and listen to it often. 9.25/10

27. Ireland 🇮🇪 Leslie Roy - Maps: This song was a victim of a super strong bloodbath and shoddy staging ideas. The song is arresting and a bop. Leslie’s gruff voice mixed with the modernized Irish sounds is a match made. The staging of this song that required Leslie to run along with the beat and the distracting and constantly changing bits of the performance we’re definitely it’s downfall. It didn’t deserve last place in Semi 1 though. 9.25/10

28. Portugal 🇵🇹 The Black Mamba - Love Is On My Side: I am the first to admit that while I don’t like the song, it deserved the final. The staging and atmosphere elevated the song. 9/10

29. Austria 🇦🇹 Vincent Bueno - Amen: In the battle of the Amens, this one wins solely based on the classy and amazing staging. Don’t get me wrong, Slovenia’s was also elevating but this one did it better. 8.5/10

30. Australia 🇦🇺 Montaigne - Technicolor: This song is a fantastic one for studio. The live since the Sydney Mardi Gras performance has been rough and didn’t necessarily improve. I feel bad bc I do really love this song but it definitely didn’t deserve to qualify. This being said, I love Montaigne, and Don’t Break Me was my runner up last year, and I still listen to it as my anthem when I’m feeling down. I wish I could rank this higher but I can’t. 8.5/10

31. Romania 🇷🇴 Roxen - Amnesia: This song is great in the studio but it got old real fast for me and I don’t know why. This mixed with the poor vocals and the bizarre costume:stage combo was really what did this in and got this low in my ranking. 8.25/10

32. Slovenia 🇸🇮 Ana Soklic - Amen: The loser of the Amen battle, but just barely. The song and vocals are better in my opinion but the whole package was just barely edged out in the end. 8/10

33. Latvia 🇱🇻 Samanta Tīna - Moon Is Rising: Look, this song is nowhere near as good as last years. The queeeeeen sashayed away with that annoying trap beat. 8/10

34. North Macedonia 🇲🇰 Vasil - Here I Stand: Leave it to the gays for bringing musical theatre to Eurovision. The song honestly isn’t that special or memorable but he’s higher up bc his stage and voice are amazing. 7/10

35. Norway 🇳🇴 Tix - Fallen Angel: A great message on mental health outside of the song and Tix seems like a quality fella but I do not like the song. I preferred it in Norwegian. And this low ranking is not at all influenced over him beating out Keiino (but maybe a slight bit tho). 5/10

36. Estonia 🇪🇪 Uku Suviste - The Lucky One: While this was 1000% better than last years entry, it still was relatively boring. The stage was equally as boring so sorry Estonia, but you didn’t make the mark. 4.5/10

37. Poland 🇵🇱 Rafael - The Ride: This throwback to the 80s was a bad one. The attempt at a one hit wonder vibe really hurt it along with the artist’s terrible vocals. Also half the time, he was behind the pyro and relying on backup vocals. 4/10

38. Georgia 🇬🇪 Tornike Kipiani - You: You really should not have to wait so long for the more upbeat rock ending of this. If it was that last 30 seconds for 3 minutes, it would be much better. A definite step back from last year. 1/10

39. Germany 🇩🇪 Jendrick - I Don’t Feel Hate: Jendrick might not feel hate but I do bc that is all I feel when this song comes on. 0.5/10

#Eurovision #Eurovision 2021 #top 39 eurovision #my opinion

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fyeah-bangtan7 · 3 years

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The Boundless Optimism of BTS

IT IS THE MORNING OF CHUSEOK, A KOREAN HARVEST FESTIVAL akin to Thanksgiving, and the members of BTS would normally be spending it with their families, eating tteokguk, a traditional rice-cake soup. Instead, Jin, 28; Suga, 27; J-Hope, 26; RM, 26; Jimin, 25; V, 24; and Jung Kook, 23, are working. Practicing. Honing their choreography. In a few days, the biggest musical act in the world will perform in the live-stream concert that, for now, will have to stand in for the massive tour they spent the first part of this year rehearsing. At this moment, they’re seated inside Big Hit Entertainment headquarters in Seoul, South Korea, the house they built, dressed mostly in black and white, ready to answer my questions. They’re gracious about it. And groggy.

Before I’m done speaking with them for this story, BTS will have the number-one and number-two songs on the BillboardHot 100, a feat that’s been achieved only a handful of times in the sixty-odd years the chart has existed. Their next album, Be, is weeks away from being released, and speculation about the record, the tracklist, the statement, is rampant across the Internet. BTS are, to put it mildly, huge.

There is something about complete world domination that can really cement a friendship. What jumps out at me as I connect with the members of BTS is their level of comfort with one another. Tension has a way of making itself evident—even over Zoom, even through a translator. There’s none to be found here. They are relaxed in the manner of family. Lounging with their arms around each other’s shoulders, tugging on each other’s sleeves, fixing each other’s collars. When they speak about one another, it is with kindness.

“Jimin has a particular passion for the stage and really thinks about performance, and in that sense, there are many things to learn from him,” J-Hope says. “Despite all the things he has accomplished, he still tries his best and brings something new to the table, and I really want to applaud him for that.”

“Thank you for saying all these things about me,” Jimin responds.

Jimin turns his attention to V, explaining that he is “loved by so many” and describing him as one of his best friends. Suga jumps in, sharing that Jimin and V fight the most among the group. V replies, “We haven’t fought in three years!” They tell me this distinction now belongs to Jin and Jung Kook, the oldest and youngest members. “It all starts as a joke, but then it gets serious,” Jimin says.

Jin agrees and recounts what their arguments sound like. “Why did you hit me so hard?” he says, before mimicking Jung Kook’s response: “I didn’t hit you that hard.” And then they start hitting each other. But not that hard.

Since the start of their careers, BTS have shown a certain confidence in their aesthetic, their performances, and their music videos. It’s right there in the name: BTS stands for “Bangtan Sonyeondan,” which translates to “Bulletproof Boy Scouts,” but as their popularity grew in English-speaking markets, the acronym was retrofitted to mean “Beyond the Scene,” which Big Hit has described as “symbolizing youth who don’t settle for their current reality and instead open the door and go forward to achieve growth.” And their affection with one another, their vulnerability and emotional openness in their lives and in their lyrics, strikes me as more grown-up and masculine than all the frantic and perpetual box-checking and tone-policing that American boys force themselves and their peers to do. It looks like the future.

“There is this culture where masculinity is defined by certain emotions, characteristics. I’m not fond of these expressions,” Suga tells me. “What does being masculine mean? People’s conditions vary day by day. Sometimes you’re in a good condition; sometimes you aren’t. Based on that, you get an idea of your physical health. And that same thing applies mentally. Some days you’re in a good state; sometimes you’re not. Many pretend to be okay, saying that they’re not ‘weak,’ as if that would make you a weak person. I don’t think that’s right. People won’t say you’re a weak person if your physical condition is not that good. It should be the same for the mental condition as well. Society should be more understanding.”

When I hear these words in October 2020, from my house in a country whose leader is actively trying to make the case that only the weak die of COVID-19, well, it sounds like the future, too.

IF YOU ARE JUST NOW CONSIDERING GETTING INTO BTS, IT IS natural to feel overwhelmed by the sheer amount of stuff. It’s a bit like saying, right this second, “Let’s see what Marvel Comics is all about.” In the streaming age, BTS have sold more than twenty million physical units across fourteen albums. Their multi-album concept cycles, The Most Beautiful Moment in Life, Love Yourself, and Map of the Soul, have unfolded over multiple records and EPs. There are collaborations with brands, including a BTS smartphone with Samsung. There is a series of short films and music videos, called BU, or BTS Universe, and an animated universe called BT21, in which they’re all represented by gender-neutral avatars. Their fan base, known as ARMY, is a global cultural movement unto itself.

“Dynamite,” their first English-language single and their first American number one, is pure, ecstatic pop. Shiny and joyful. What sets them apart from many of their peers, and many of the pop acts who achieved worldwide fame before them, is what came earlier. Beneath the sheen and the beats has always been an unflinching examination of human emotion. Their lyrics seek to challenge the conventions of society—to question and even denounce them. BTS’s first single, “No More Dream,” unveiled at their debut showcase in June 2013, concerns the intense pressure South Korean schoolchildren face to conform and to succeed. According to Suga, lyrics about the mental health of young people were mostly absent in Korean pop music. “The reason I started making music is because I grew up listening for lyrics that speak about dreams, hopes, and social issues,” he tells me. “It just came naturally to me when making music.”

Suga’s early ambition of making music didn’t involve him being in a group at all. About a decade ago, in his hometown of Daegu, the fourth-largest city in South Korea, he started recording underground rap tracks under the name Gloss, listening to and learning from the early works of songwriter and producer Bang Si-hyuk, known as Hitman Bang. Bang is the founder and CEO of Big Hit Entertainment. In 2010, Suga, a junior in high school, moved to Seoul to join Big Hit as a producer and rapper. Then Bang asked him to become part of a group, envisioning a hip-hop act with fellow new Big Hit recruits RM and J-Hope. The guys call this “season one” of their development.

“At that time, I don’t think our label exactly knew what to do with us,” RM says. “They just basically let us be and we had some lessons, but we also just chilled and made music sometimes.”

It got more intense. The family grew, occasionally by accident.

V accompanied a friend to a Big Hit casting call in Daegu for moral support and ended up being the person chosen from those sessions.

Jung Kook was signed in a feeding frenzy after being dropped from the talent show Superstar K, fielding offers from numerous entertainment companies before settling on Big Hit because he was impressed by RM’s rapping.

Jimin was a dance student and class president for nine years running at his school in Busan; he auditioned at the behest of his teacher.

And then, to hear him tell it, Jin got picked up off the street. “I was just going to school,” he says. “Someone from the company approached me, like, ‘Oh, this is my first time seeing anyone that looked like this.’ He suggested having a meeting with me.”

“Season two is when we officially underwent hard training,” J-Hope says. “We started dancing, and that’s how I would say our team building started.”

School in the daytime, training at night. “We slept during classes,” V says.

“I slept in the practice studio,” J-Hope counters.

Hitman Bang kept the pressure comparatively low. And he encouraged the guys to write and produce their own music, to be honest about their emotions in their lyrics. Suga is on record saying that no BTS album would be complete without a track that scrutinizes society.

And yet for their new album, Be, they’re putting that aside. Even this has a greater purpose that relates to mental wellness: RM, the group’s main rapper, says, “I don’t think this album will have any songs that criticize social issues. Everybody is going through very trying times right now. So I don’t think there will be any songs that will be that aggressive.”

Though the new rules of COVID-19 mean they can’t come here and promote Be, its first single might not have happened in the first place but for the pandemic. “ ‘Dynamite’ wouldn’t be here if there was no COVID-19,” says RM. “For this song, we wanted to go easy and simple and positive. Not some, like, deep vibes or shadows. We just wanted to go easy.”

Jin agrees. “We were trying to convey the message of healing and comfort to our fans.” He pauses. “World domination wasn’t actually our plan when we were releasing ‘Dynamite.’ ” World domination just happens sometimes. You get it.

MAP OF THE SOUL ONE AIRED VIA THEIR ONLINE FAN PLATFORM and attracted almost a million viewers across 191 countries. The guys say they tried not to think about the enormousness. J-Hope adds, “I felt a little bit more nervous knowing that this was being broadcast live. I actually feel less nervous performing live at a stadium.” Jin replies with a smile, “J-Hope, born to perform at a stadium.”

The graphic layout of the title throws a colon between the final N and E, which makes it look like Map of the Soul On: E, and as I watch it live, as I do in my office at 3:00 a.m. with noise-canceling headphones and a steaming pot of coffee, it feels a lot like I’m watching Map of the Soul on E. It is an explosion of color and fashion and passion, over four gigantic stages, from the boozy swagger of “Dionysus” to the emo-trap introspection of “Black Swan.” Not a step, not a gesture, not a hair is out of place. If there were nerves, they didn’t come through.

There is also, at the end of Map of the Soul One, an intimate version of their 2017 track “Spring Day,” which encapsulates what’s really made BTS stand out. On the surface, it’s about nonspecific love and loss, about yearning for the past. “I think that song really represents me,” says Jin. “I like to look to the past and be lost in it.”

Fair enough, but there is an undeniable allusion, in both the song’s video and its cover concept, to a specific incident in recent South Korean history. “Spring Day” was released just a few years after the sinking of the Sewol ferry, one of the country’s biggest maritime disasters, in which a poorly inspected, overloaded ferry toppled in a sharp right turn. Hundreds of high school students drowned, having obeyed orders to stay in their cabins as the boat was going down. According to some reports, the South Korean government actively tried to silence entertainers who spoke out against it, with the Korean Ministry of Education fully banning the tragedy’s commemorative yellow ribbons in schools. I ask whether it was about a specific sad event, and Jin tells me, “It is about a sad event, as you said, but it is also about longing.” The song kept the disaster front of mind for young Koreans and for the media, indirectly leading to the impeachment and removal of then president Park Geun-hye.

If an overburdened, undermaintained, slow-moving vessel capsizing because of a reckless rightward turn strikes you as somehow symbolic of the country in which BTS are about to explode even further, you won’t hear it from them. “We’re outsiders—we can’t really express what we feel about the United States,” says V. But their actions speak volumes; in the wake of the George Floyd murder and subsequent protests in America, the group made a $1 million donation with Big Hit Entertainment to Black Lives Matter, one that was matched by BTS ARMY.

The fans offer a fascinating inversion of stan culture: Rather than bullying rivals like many other ardent online fan bases do, ARMY have put the positive message of the music into action. Their activism goes deep. Through micro-donations, they’ve regrown rain forests, adopted whales, funded hundreds of hours of dance classes for Rwandan youth, and raised money to feed LGBTQ refugees around the world. Where pop fans a generation ago might have sent teddy bears or cards to their idols for their birthdays, where five years ago they might have promoted a hashtag to get a video’s YouTube viewer count up, for RM’s twenty-sixth birthday in September, international fan collective One in an Army raised more than $20,000 for digital night schools to improve rural children’s access to education during the COVID-19 crisis. ARMY may have even entered the conversation around the 2020 presidential election when hundreds of thousands of Tulsa Trump rally tickets got snapped up online in June. The event’s actual attendance was pathetically low. No particular person or entity claimed credit for this top-notch trolling, but a video urging BTS fans to RSVP to that rally did get hundreds of thousands of views. We have no choice but to stan this fan base.

The relationship is intense. “We and our ARMY are always charging each other’s batteries,” RM says. “When we feel exhausted, when we hear the news all over the world, the tutoring programs, and donations, and every good thing, we feel responsible for all of this.” The music may have inspired the good works, but the good works inspire the music. “We’ve got to be greater; we’ve got to be better,” RM continues. “All those behaviors always influence us to be better people, before all this music and artist stuff.”

Yet for every devoted member of BTS ARMY, there is someone who’s looked right past BTS. Jimmy Fallon, whose Tonight Show hosted the group for a full week this past fall, was one of those people. “Usually if an artist is on the rise, I hear about them ahead of time. With BTS, I knew they had crazy momentum, and I’d never heard of them.”

Here’s a thought that used to be funny to me: There were members of the live audience of The Ed Sullivan Showon February 9, 1964, who weren’t there to see the Beatles. Elvis was in the Army, Buddy Holly was gone, and the three number-one albums in the months before Meet the Beatles! were an Allan Sherman comedy record, the West Side Story original cast recording, and Soeur Sourire: The Singing Nun. America had left rock ’n’ roll behind for the moment, and with the culture aimless and fragmented, it wasn’t quite sure what to pick up in its place. It is possible to imagine that a youngish, reasonably hip, and culturally aware human being might cop a ticket to that week’s show, settle into his seat, and say, “Bring on a medley of numbers from the Broadway musical Oliver! and banjo sensation Tessie O’Shea.”

The instinct is to laugh at that guy, and it’s a good instinct, because what a dope.

And then you become that guy.

Sometimes there is a whole universe alongside your own, bursting with color you’re too stubborn to see, bouncing with joy you think is for someone else, with a beat you thought you were finished dancing to. BTS are the biggest thing on the planet right now, yet the job of introducing them to someone new, particularly in America, seems like it’s never done. Maybe it’s because they are adored by screaming teenagers and we live in a society patriarchal enough to forget that screaming teenagers are nearly always right. Maybe it’s the cultural divide, in a moment when our country is unashamed enough of its own xenophobia to get openly bent out of shape when it has to press 1 for English. Maybe it’s the language barrier, as though we understood a single word Michael Stipe sang before 1989.

Whatever the reason, the result is that you might be missing out on a paradigm shift and a historic moment of pop greatness.

IF BTS SEEM A BIT CAUTIOUS WITH THEIR WORDS PUBLICLY, IT’S because—perhaps more than any other massive pop act in history—they have to be. Shortly after our second meeting, BTS were given the General James A. Van Fleet Award by the U. S.–based Korea Society for their outstanding contributions to advancing relations between the United States and Korea. In his acceptance speech, RM said, “We will always remember the history of pain that our two nations shared together, and the sacrifices of countless men and women,” as seemingly diplomatic and innocuous a statement as he could have made. But because he didn’t mention the Chinese soldiers who died in the Korean War, it didn’t go over well. The Samsung BTS smartphone disappeared from Chinese e-commerce platforms, Fila and Hyundai pulled ads in China that featured the group, the nationalistic newspaper Global Times accused them of hurting Chinese citizens’ feelings and negating history, and the hashtags “BTS humiliated China” and “there are no idols that come before my country” began trending on the social-media site Weibo. The pressure is not small.

Even as the number-one pop group in the world, even with their hard work day in and day out, even with tens of millions of adoring fans redefining the concept of “adoring fans” by literally healing the planet in their name, these guys still suffer from impostor syndrome. RM explains, “I’ve heard that there’s this mask complex. Seventy percent of so-called successful people have this, mentally. It’s basically this: There’s this mask on my face. And these people are afraid that someone is going to take off this mask. We have those fears as well. But I said 70 percent, so I think it’s very natural. Sometimes it’s a condition to be successful. Humans are imperfect, and we have these flaws and defects. And one way to deal with all this pressure and weight is to admit the shadows.”

The music helps. “When we write the songs and lyrics, we study these emotions, we are aware of that situation, and we relate to that emotionally,” J-Hope says. “And that’s why when the song is released, we listen to it and get consolation from those songs as well. I think our fans also feel those emotions, maybe even more than us. And I think we are a positive influence on each other.”

If there’s one thing they’re sacrificing, besides free time and the ability to speak freely without the Chinese foreign ministry releasing an official statement, it’s a love life. I ask about dating, broad questions like “Are you?” and “Is there time?” and “Can you?” and the answer to all of them is pretty clear: “No.” “The most important thing for us now is to sleep,” Jung Kook insists. Suga follows right up with “Can you see my dark circles?” I cannot, because there are none, because flawless skin translates even over Zoom when there’s an ocean between us.

So they’re not, at least publicly, having romantic relationships with anyone. If there is a strong relationship that’s guided their journey into adulthood, it’s with Big Hit. “Our company started with twenty to thirty people, but now we have a company with so many employees,” RM says. “We have our fans, and we have our music. So we have a lot of things that we have to be responsible for, to safeguard.” He considers it for a moment. “I think that’s what an adult is.”

“Our love life—twenty-four hours, seven days a week—is with all the ARMYs all over the world,” RM adds.

In a world that is determined to sand down anything that isn’t immediately recognizable to the average pop-music fan, when it comes to acquainting you with Korean culture, BTS very much do not wanna hold your hand. While the first song on night one of their Tonight Show week was a joyous but expected take on “Dynamite” with Fallon and the Roots, they took some chances during their second performance.

As a friend of mine, a thirty-three-year-old BTS fan in Los Angeles, told me, “The second song they performed was ‘IDOL,’ ” from 2018’s Love Yourself: Answer, “and it celebrated their Korean identity. They performed it in Gyeongbokgung Palace in Seoul. They wore clothes inspired by traditional dresses called hanboks;it was almost entirely in Korean, so it felt super subversive. As a fan, I read it as: ‘Dynamite’ was an invitation, and this is who we are and this is our home.”

“I was a little concerned that people might not understand,” Fallon says. “I was like, ‘There’s nothing in English here.’ But what you see is just pure star power. Pure talent. Immediately, I thought, Oh, this is everything. If you’re that powerful, it transcends language.”

American popular music in the twenty-first century is more fragmented than it has been since . . . well, since Allan Sherman, Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim, and the Singing Nun battled for that number-one spot. The monoculture that the Beatles helped bring on has breathed its last breath. Each of us is the program director for our own private radio station, letting our own past habits and streaming-service algorithms serve up something close to what we want. Which is great, except that huge moments can whiz right past our ears. Each of us, even if we’re more clued in than our parents were when they were our age, can miss some era-defining, excellent shit. Particularly if the radio is our Spotify Discover Weekly, or the Pandora channel based on the band whose T-shirts we wore in college. We can let a moment pass us by if prime time is a Netflix binge, and the Tonight Show hour is spent on one more episode before bed. But we shouldn’t. “Honestly, I think it’s history that we’re living through with BTS,” Fallon says. “It’s the biggest band I’ve seen since I’ve started late night, definitely.”

THERE IS ALSO THE SMALL DETAIL THAT, UNLIKE THE BEATLES AND literally every other worldwide sensation to break in America, BTS don’t particularly need to go to the trouble. They are massive all over the world. Thanks to the recent IPO of Big Hit Entertainment, of which each member is a partner, they are all now incredibly wealthy. (Hitman Bang is the first South Korean entertainment mogul to become a billionaire.) What good is a culture in decline to a pop act this much on the ascent? “When I dreamed of becoming an artist, I listened to pop and watched all the awards shows in the United States. Being successful and being a hit in the U. S. is, of course, such an honor as an artist,” says Suga. “I feel very proud of that.”

They’re breaking out in a country that either worships them or fails to notice them. So do they feel like they’re getting enough respect in America? “How can we win everyone’s respect?” Jin asks. “I think it’s enough to get respect from people who support us. It’s similar everywhere else in the world. You can’t like everyone, and I think it’s enough to be respected by people who really love you.”

Suga agrees. “You can’t always be comfortable, and I think it’s all part of life. Honestly, we are not used to getting a ton of respect from when we first started out. But I think that gradually changes, whether it be in the States or other parts of the world, as we do more and more.”

There is, without a doubt, one colossal, unmistakable sign of respect for a musician: a Grammy. They’ve been nominated only once, and even then it was for best recording package. But their sights are set on a big one next year. RM puts it out there: “We would like to be nominated and possibly get an award.” Dragging the hoary, backward-looking, and Western-focused Grammys into the gorgeous, global world of the present through sheer force of will, talent, and hard work? Stranger things have happened. “I think the Grammys are the last part, like the final part of the whole American journey,” he says with a smile. “So yeah, we’ll see.”

The Recording Academy’s seal of approval is one thing. But BTS have already conquered the world, clowned tyrants, inspired individual fans to perform the small and achievable acts of activism that have collectively begun to save the planet, challenged toxic masculinity by leading with vulnerability, and, along the way, become bajillionaires and international idols. Whether the Grammys are paying attention matters about as much as what an Ed Sullivan audience member expected to see that night in 1964. BTS have already won.

#bangtan #jungkook #jimin #v #suga #jhope #jin #rm #o:esquire #o:interview #201123

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mortuarybees · 5 years

Text

The sun beat unseasonably hot and heavy on Crowley and Aziraphale's backs as they took their stroll. It was beautiful, Aziraphale couldn't help but admit; he spent the whole of the year in London, and rarely left, but he had to admit that spring in the countryside put the city to shame. They had left the path behind and made their own through a field of wildflowers, the smell heady in the air, so thick and rich it warned this was the peak of the season. Aziraphale, at Crowley's side, would certainly enjoy it while he could.

"All I'm saying," Crowley said, and Aziraphale's attention returned to their conversation, "is that you have to admit, her books would be more interesting if she fell more to my side."

"I disagree," Aziraphale said primly, though he wasn't sure that he did. They were both guests of the lady of the house, a rising author with a substantial readership, and had both been tasked with influencing her to spread vice and virtue through her novels, respectively. It was, on the whole, perhaps the best assignment Aziraphale had ever been given. He had quite enjoyed her first two publications, the estate was beautiful, her library impressive, and he would be spending the whole of the week in Crowley's company--which, of course, would make it far easier to thwart his wiles, and was agreeable for no other reason. "I think a virtuous, traditional heroine is far more interesting."

"No you don't," Crowley snorted. "Remember Ivanhoe? Come off it, angel, you were furious about Rebecca's ending. You sent me a six page letter about it."

"Rebecca was virtuous," Aziraphale snapped. "Even more virtuous than Rowena. The only reason she didn't marry Ivanhoe is because she was Jewish, and that's all there is to it. None of this nonsense about the nobility of tragic endings--Scott was simply a coward, and I do believe he wound up one of yours."

"I don't know about that," Crowley said, cutting what Aziraphale is sure is an amused look out of the corner of his eye. "She might be virtuous but she's hardly traditional. And besides, look at East Lynne, you were in a way about Lady Isabel's ending too."

"Hasn't anyone ever heard of Christian forgiveness?" Aziraphale muttered. "A fallen woman she may have been, but she hardly deserved the fate she got. Her only crime was falling in love with a charming rogue, really. And I resent the notion that disfigurement is a punishment, which Wood clearly intended it to be--"

"Alright, alright, angel, I'm just saying, you don't like all these boring novels about virtuous people being virtuous and making the good, virtuous choices their parents want them to make," Crowley said, laughing. "I've got a whole box of letters to prove it. Don't you want something more exciting? Less predictable? People being happy instead of all," he gestured with his cane, "sensible?"

"I like predictable," Aziraphale sniffed. "I'll take a good, predictable ending, and a sensible protagonist, any day."

"Sure," Crowley said, sighing. He swung his cane at the tall grass brushing their knees, an explosion of petals erupting. Aziraphale frowned at his behavior, but said nothing, instead enjoying the breeze that had picked up. "Suppose that's why you're so fascinated with that Lord Edward fellow."

"Lord Edward? Which novel is that?"

"Not a novel, that bland heir to something or other with the awful voice in the parlor," Crowley said. He took another vicious swing at a flower, missed, and hissed, irritated.

It took a moment for Aziraphale to place who he meant. He blinked at him. "The--pianist?"

"Yes, the one singing those dreary songs about the Rhine or whatever else," he muttered.

"Whyever would you think I was fascinated by him?" Aziraphale asked, amused. Why would you care? Certainly, he was a skilled musician, but a bit...fair-haired, for Aziraphale's taste. Short, broad-shouldered, muscular. Not that he had tastes, of course, being an angel, but if he did. And not, of course, that it's that sort of fascination to which Crowley was referring. Why would he? "I was simply listening to him play, he was quite talented."

"For an amateur, perhaps," Crowley said.

"Really, dear boy, must you be so judgmental? I think he did a fine job," Aziraphale said. "It's very generous to devote ones entire afternoon to entertaining the rest of the room."

"Oh, yes, a real trial, having everyone in the room looking at him, hanging all over him," Crowley muttered. Another flower exploded, before Crowley's cane even came in contact with it.

"No one was hanging all over him," Aziraphale said, exasperated.

"You were."

"I wasn't," Aziraphale said. Truthfully, he'd spent most of the afternoon watching Crowley flirt with the lady of the house's husband, as if that was even necessary for his assignment. "He's engaged, besides."

"So you asked--"

"What is this about, Crowley?" Aziraphale snapped impatiently. "Are you worried I'm persuading him to good? He's doing a fine job of it on his own. He sponsors poor young people so they can go to school and get educations."

"How bloody wonderful for him," Crowley grumbled.

Aziraphale huffed and picked up his pace to walk ahead of him until his irritation waned. Crowley got this way sometimes, inexplicably concerned about who Aziraphale spoke to. He'd been the same way about Shakespeare, of all people, when Aziraphale could easily counter with Crowley's close friendship with Marlowe. He was responsible for the dashing, brooding, inexplicably sympathetic character of Mephistopheles, Aziraphale was certain of it.

Crowley lengthened his stride to catch up, sighing. "Look, angel, I'm sorry--"

"I just don't see how it's any of your business," Aziraphale sniffed. "I'm allowed to have acquaintances, you know. It isn't all blessings and miracles."

"I know," Crowley said, smirking, "you hang around me, don't you?"

"That is purely professional," Aziraphale said, whirling to face him, and he winced at the wounded expression on Crowley's face. "I, er--"

"Professional, right," Crowley said. "Professional nights at the theater, professional lunches, professional saving your ass when you get yourself into stupid jams, professional country strolls."

"We're discussing our assignments," Aziraphale said weakly, and Crowley flinched.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, you're right. I'm an idiot. Come on, it's getting late. We should head back." He turned and began the slog back to the path, stomping with unnecessary force. The tall flowers leaned precariously out of his way, and still met his wrath, flattened.

"Crowley--"

"Just don't, angel," Crowley sighed. "You're right, I was out of bounds."

Aziraphale chewed at his lip, hurrying to keep pace. "No, I...Crowley," he said, putting his hand on his elbow to stop him, and he froze. His black coat was sun-warm to the touch, even through Aziraphale's gloves, and he let his hand linger a moment before his mind caught up and he snatched it back, wide-eyed. Crowley only stared at him, not moving a muscle, and after a moment of hesitation, he laid his hand on his arm, forcing himself to make meet Crowley's eyes, hoping against hope he could see what Aziraphale couldn't say. It was an unlikely hope, given that Aziraphale wasn’t even sure what it was he wanted to say, except--

You’re my friend, maybe, but even that he couldn’t admit to himself. There was more than that, too, nebulous things he could feel but couldn’t grasp, wouldn’t try. "You understand, don't you?"

He nodded, slowly, but Aziraphale didn't remove his hand, caught in Crowley's gaze, the way the sun hit the lenses of his glasses just right so Aziraphale could see his stricken eyes. There had been a fad, for a time, when young people would carry little miniature portraits of their lovers eyes, wear them as jewelry, taunting their friends with the mystery of it. Aziraphale had always thought of Crowley when he saw them, richly framed bracelets or pinned on lapels. His eyes would be far too unique for that, were he to ever take a lover. There would be no mystery, no wondering who those gold slit eyes belonged to.

"Angel," Crowley said, his voice soft and hoarse, and Aziraphale swallowed hard, watching his mouth form the word. His hand remained on his arm, separated by Crowley's shirt, his coat, Azirapahle's glove, yet Aziraphale's palm prickled, like there was nothing between them at all, only skin against skin.

It felt, really, like there was nothing else to do, as if it was gravity; as if he'd been tilting towards him since the moment they touched and there was no choice but to fall. But really, it was quite the opposite: with his gaze fixed on his lips, Aziraphale rose up, as if in a trace, and kissed him, soft, light, barely-there as the dandelion fuzz which clung to his cheek.

His eyes slide closed, and Crowley made a sound like a whine or a moan, and his cane thumped to the ground as his hands came up to grip Aziraphale's waist, pulling him in, deepening the kiss to something desperate, grounded, sweet as the inner flesh of an apple, and Aziraphale shuddered at it, at the taste of him. Tea and tobacco and something sharp and earthy, like cinnamon, and he licked into his mouth, chasing it. Crowley gasped, fingers tightening in Aziraphale's coat, and surged forward, knocking both their hats off.

Aziraphale stumbled back, yelping when his back hit the ground, but the sting and dull ache was driven out of his mind by the gentle kiss Crowley gave him, his gloved hand twined in his, and he kissed Aziraphale's cheek, whispering, breathless, "alright? Sorry, I didn't mean--"

"Shut up," Aziraphale said, turning his head to chase his lips again, something hungrier, and Crowley's tongue dragged along his lower lip, the soft slide of it almost painful in the way it made Aziraphale feel wild, dazed, out of his mind in the heat and grass, Crowley's weight pressing into him. "Crowley, my dear, Crowley, I--"

Crowley kissed along his jaw, his trembling fingers working at Aziraphale's necktie, and Aziraphale gripped his hips, pulling him down, closer, staring up at the wide, open, cloudless blue sky, and suddenly felt--

Terribly exposed, weren't they? Out here in the field, on assignment, no less--

A horrible terror, a foreboding crashed into him, heavy, with far more force than Crowley had landed on him.

"Crowley, wait," he said, and Crowley froze immediately, leaning back. Flower petals were tangled in his hair, grass seed and pollen clung to his face, the absolute picture of flowering passion, youthful Dionysian impulse, but they were hardly, youthful, were they, they were old, very old, an angel and a demon, and--

There was a familiar crack nearby, and the sharp smell of ozone burned away the intoxicating scent of the meadow. Crowley, suddenly, was gone, a black mass in Aziraphale's lap slithering into the grass. Aziraphale sat up, staring, terrified, into Crowley's snake eyes, as wide as his own, and his head dipped, something almost like a reassuring nod--I'm not going anywhere, it said, I'm right here, I won’t leave, and Aziraphale nodded back, gathering his composure.

Gabriel stood in the grass some distance away, frowning at the scenery.

"Gabriel," Aziraphale said, his voice high and oddly-pitched, and Gabriel's eyes cleared when they landed on him. "How...lovely, to see you."

"Aziraphale," he greeted. "What, uh." His eyes flickered over him, disheveled and sitting in the grass. "What are you doing?"

"It's a," Aziraphale struggled to find an explanation that did not involve admitting he had just been kissing a demon. "A thing humans do."

"Really," Gabriel said, and shrugged. "How stupid. Anyway, I just thought I'd check in on how the assignment's going."

"It's," Aziraphale frowned. The last time someone had actually come to check on one of his assignments was...early Christianity, he was pretty sure, helping to build the church. "It's going well? The young lady is quite talented, and of course, virtuous. Definitely on our side.”

"Great," Gabriel beamed. "That's good to hear."

"Er, why is Heaven so interested in this particular woman's soul, if I may ask?" Aziraphale couldn't help but look at Crowley, who seemed as confused as he was.

"Aziraphale," Gabriel scolded. "Heaven is interested in the fortunes of all human souls."

"Of course," he said hurriedly, though he knew that wasn't, exactly, true. No one had ever come to check up on the individual progress of a soul towards the light before.

"But Our Lord is particularly fond of this author's work," Gabriel allowed. "She's very intent that she be influenced towards the light."

"Ah," he said faintly. God was reading romantic epistolary novels. And had a particular interest in this woman's. And was very keen that she be swayed to their side. And no one had told Aziraphale this. And instead of working on this assignment, perhaps his most important since establishing the church hierarchy, he had been cavorting with the adversary in a field, rolling around like lustful youths with more passion than sense. "Wonderful. Good to know."

"So, it's going well?" Gabriel said. "I don't need to tell you that when the Lord takes a special interest in the fate of one human, it's really important that it goes well."

"No," Aziraphale agreed. "You do not need to tell me that."

"Excellent," he said. "Heaven. Virtue. Maybe a, a helpful priest, in her next book? None of this, running off to Scotland to elope and be married by a blacksmith stuff. Churches, Aziraphale. The Lord wants to see churches."

"Churches," Aziraphale said. "Priests. No blacksmiths. Got it."

"There can be blacksmiths," Gabriel corrected. "The Lord hasn't said anything specific about Her opinions on blacksmiths. But no getting married by a blacksmith."

"Of course," he said.

Gabriel sniffed, looking around. "Something feels, or--smells--"

"Goats," Aziraphale blurted. Of course Gabriel could smell Crowley, that brimstone-and-clove smell that clung to him, beneath even the thickest cologne, because he was a demon. "Ah, it's a goat. Pasture. Goats live here."

"Oh," Gabriel said, with a look that said, and you're laying in the grass? "Alright, if you've got all that, I'll be off. Lots of important business." He clapped his hands together, and gave him a very cold smile. "Take care of this, Aziraphale," he said, and with a flash of lightning from the cloudless sky, he was gone.

The grass had worked its way into his sleeve and under his collar, itching terribly, and he picked at it idly. Crowley transformed back into his human shape, patting his torso as if to confirm he still had hands to do so with. "Satan below," he swore. "That was close."

"It was," Aziraphale agreed hollowly. If Gabriel had seen--Aziraphale would've Fallen, and Crowley probably would've been smote. Or taken to Hell and destroyed. He'd put them both in the most horrible danger, and for what? "I--I'm sorry, Crowley, I got carried away."

"You--"

"Too many romantic novels, I suppose, I apologize," he said, and pain flashed across Crowley’s face.

"Angel--"

"Crowley," he said severely, and allowed a fraction of the terror he felt make its way onto his face. Crowley swallowed hard, and ducked his head. He swallowed, composing himself again. "I got carried away."

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Me too."

"Right," he said, getting to his feet, and he wanted desperately to offer Crowley a hand, but--

Well, that didn't seem such a good idea.

"Given the nature of this assignment, dear boy, do you mind if I--"

"Yeah, you take this one," Crowley said, picking up his cane and hat from where they'd been discarded. Aziraphale found his own and secured it on his head. "I think I'm going back to London." He sniffed, brushed a petal off his shoulder. "Don't care for the country."

I'm sorry, Aziraphale wanted to say, but he didn't. He shouldn't even want to say it. He was an angel, and Crowley was a demon. Angels didn't apologize to demons. And they also did not kiss them senseless in fields.

What a poor angel I am, he thought miserably.

"Perhaps that's for the best," he said, and Crowley swallowed, looking away.

The walk back to their host's house was quiet, and Crowley was gone before dinner, without another word.

#i just wanted them to be kissing in a field. that is all #henry speaks #good omens #ineffable husbands #henry writes

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galaxina-the-pyro · 3 years

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Who are the characters that in your opinion were sadly wasted in PnF?

I could list a bunch of characters that were wasted, imo, but SADLY wasted...oh boy. Let’s do this (in no particular order):

1. Thaddeus and Thor: They really should have had a couple more episodes, I feel like the show could’ve done a lot with these two. I get that Dan and Swampy didn’t want something like that in PnF, which is understandable, but wouldn’t it be hilarious for these two to act as Phineas and Ferb’s defacto rivals? While Phineas and Ferb just don’t give a fuck and are like, “Aw, they’re having so much fun trying to one up us, how nice.” I dunno, I feel like something was THERE. I know I said I don’t LIKE these two (especially Thaddeus), but I see so much potential regardless.

2. Lyla Lollberry: Unpopular opinion, I think she’s a total Mary Sue. She’s not that charming or likable, and I cringed every single time she SPOKE - maybe it was because she was acting like she knew more than PERRY, and that’s so jarring when we’ve been following him this whole time only for him to be stuck with this peppy brat being all like, “you’ll see, Perry, you NEED me” and that bullshit. And that part where she reveals her mistake was “part of the plan” made me angry for some reason - I just. I don’t LIKE her...but I wish I DID. I think she could’ve shown up in more episodes and developed a more likable personality and stuff - even though I don’t like her song, her making Perry act all happy and stuff made me smile. I feel like she and Perry could’ve had a special kind of relationship if they were allowed to partner up more - heck, maybe she should’ve been mentioned BEFORE he starring episode to really get us all wondering about Perry’s past or something (then again, that might’ve made me dislike her MORE, because of how much I don’t like her as a character).

3. Django:...you all know why. I love Irving, don’t get me wrong, but they did Django dirty. So very dirty. And the worst part is that they didn’t FORGET about Django, because he not only shows up in the background multiple times in the show, but he also plays a part in a few of their adventures and stuff. I don’t know why they opted to have Irving take his spot as a defacto sixth ranger, but I’m very displeased by this, and Django deserved BETTER.

4. Dr. Doofenshmirtz’s Dad: Okay. I can tell you’re all just looking at this and hoping that I’m joking, but let me explain. Doof’s parents are just plain awful, and I hate them both - there’s no justifying what they did to Heinz (and possibly Roger[?], because like, putting him on a pedestal is abusive too, imagine the complexes that might’ve given him). But an episode of PnF shifted my perception of BOTH characters: the Father’s Day episode where Doofenshmirtz, with Perry’s help, went out to find his dad’s lost Lawn Gnome out of pure love for his abusive dad. And at first you’re thinking to yourself, “WHY does he do this? His father probably treated him worse than his mom. This is gonna end in tears.”

And it does...but then the dad does something very interesting. When he gets his lawn gnome back (in shattered pieces), he fixes it up, sets it up...and gives his little catchphrase that he yelled at Doofenshmirtz. He yells at his most prized possession the SAME way he did he son...doesn’t that mean he sees VALUE in Heinz in some weird way?

I’m not saying that his actions were JUSTIFIED - he still messed up a perfectly good kid. But I can tell that HIS behavior was based on him being a product of his country, while the MOTHER Doofenshmirtz’s behavior is just...purely sadistic and cruel. Like, her behavior is arguably more ridiculous than the father’s - and while the father may seem HARSHER, he never showed favoritism towards EITHER of his sons (there is the whole “Only Son” thing with the dog, but that was an earlier episode, and I feel like there further down we go in seasons the more developed a character is). I just...can actually legit see him and Heinz making up in the end? I feel like they wanted to GO that direction based on the ending of that episode; like it was hinting that the dad actually CARES but has a weird way of showing it?

I dunno, I’m weird, and I still hate him but just want Heinz to have a happy life and that might involve him patching things up with his dad...his mom can die, though. There’s just no soul in her.

#phineas and ferb #pnf #pnf characters #thaddeus and thor #lyla lolliberry #doofenshmirtz's dad #django #there's probably other characters #but i can't think of them now #lol #might add to this later

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marshmallowprotection · 3 years

Text

I HAVE FINISHED TURQUOISE’S INFO (her name is now Jessamine)!

Also heres a link to the song “The Last Revolver” by Mothy, though note this is a cover with a newer version of Gumi’s voicebank, and this is also a fanmade PV remake of the original PV: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9xsdMtgEJEg

This song is directly responsible for giving me the inspiration to make Jessamine. uwu

Also ignore the weird spacing I made this in google docs originally and apparently it decided to copy paste like that and im too lazy to fix it oof also its kind of long sooo oof.

like…2398 words long ;-;

I suggest you listen to “The Last Revolver” whilst reading this. idk gives mood lol

Name: Jessamine ‘Jess’ Belle

Aliases (If Any): Evera (Assassin Name)

Age: 20 (On Liam’s Death)

24 (Currently)

Date of Birth/Birthday: Day 31 of Aria’s Star, 2045 T.C. (the equivalent of December 31st)

Zodiac: Sagittarius

Status: Alive

Species: Human

Magic:

Height: 5'0 (152 Centimeters)

Ethnicity: Mijean

Relatives: Unnamed Mother✝

Unnamed Father✝

Liam Adelson (Fiance)✝

Birth Place: Collapsed Kingdom of Mijea, Theda

Nationality/Current Residence: Mariah Empire, Theda

Religion (Which Goddess Do they Worship?): None

Occupation: Assassin Employed By Kiara Malories (Formerly)

Wandering Gunner

Affiliations: Kiara Malories (Formerly)

Kingdom of Mijea (Formerly)

None

Personality (In Phrases): Uptight, Cold, Adorable (According to Liam), Secretly Really Kind, Just Kind of Quiet, Stubborn, Was Kind of Clingy To Liam Due To Having Literally Nobody Else, Her Parents Died In The Mercenian Invasion of The Kingdom of Mijea In 2062, And She Had Basically No Friends, So Liam Became Her Rock, She’s Still In Mourning, She’s Extremely Suicidal, Pretty Unstable, Has A Temper

Marital Status: Engaged To Liam Adelson (Formerly)

Single

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Likes: Her Revolver, Macarons, Liam, Cherry Blossoms, Hummingbirds, Butterflies, The Color Purple, People Who Don’t Get In Her Way of Revenge

Dislikes: Spicy Foods, Her Height, Kiara Malories, Mercenians, The State of Mercenia, Killing For No Reason (Developed After Liam’s Death), The Ocean (She Doesn’t Know How To Swim), People Who Do Get In Her Way of Revenge, Anyone Who Tells Her Suicide Doesn’t Solve Anything, Anyone Who Tells Her She Doesn’t Need To Get Revenge, Anyone Who Claims Liam Wouldn’t Want Her To Do [Anything Under The Sun]

Role: Secondary Character

Debut: Undecided

Random Facts:

Her smile is absolutely beautiful to see. However, she hasn’t smiled since her fiance, Liam, died.

She’s one of the last pure Mijeans still alive, as most were slaughtered in the Mercenian Invasion of 2062 T.C. in a genocidal sort of fashion. There are an estimated 500 Mijeans still walking the planet, and likely a lot more half-Mijeans exist than pure Mijeans.

The revolver she currently uses is a very expensive, efficient one that is very rare, which Liam gave to her for her birthday a few hours before she realized she had to kill him.

Jess is the definition of a person who gets really, adorably mad if you dare mention how short she is.

Liam was 6'0, a full 12 inches taller than Jess. You can bet that Liam teased her about it constantly.

Liam often picked up Jess in order to kiss her without hurting his neck. It wasn’t very hard since she’s fairly light. She was a flustered mess about it constantly.

When they first met, Jess didn’t tell Liam her real name on the spot, instead telling him her assassin name, Everina. He called her Ever most of the time, and when she confessed to him, that was when she told him her real name. He still called her Ever sometimes, but usually only if they were (for any reason) in public.

Very rarely, Liam called Jess “Mina”, which was a nickname he alone used for her. He only called her that during extremely personal, special moments (e.g. first kiss, kisses in general, making love, and when Jess had to kill him)

It’s very easy to fluster Jess, usually, just give her a peck on the cheek or her lips, or pick her up, and she’ll get flustered immediately.

Jess’s most sensitive spot is the right side of her neck, like sort of between her neck and shoulder. Liam used this to his advantage ;3

Jess is extremely ticklish on her sides, but nowhere else.

Jess’s favorite season is Spring due to it being when she met Liam, and her least favorite is Winter due to it being the season where she had to kill Liam.

Jess dreads and just plain old hates her birthday as her birthday doubles as the day where she had to kill Liam.

The only reason Jess hasn’t killed herself yet is that she feels she needs to kill Kiara first as vengeance for Liam. She plans to kill herself immediately afterward.

Jess plans to give Kiara an extremely painful, long death.

Jess is terrifying when she is determined to kill someone. Seriously, don’t get in her way. Else you’ll be killed too.

Jess’s favorite things about Liam according to her was his blue eyes and his dark, maroonish hair. His eyes because to her they were beautiful and she loved staring into them, his hair because it was extremely soft.

Jess is a total bottom 99% of the time…except one time when Liam let her top.

Liam constantly attempted to make Jess laugh, which was usually successful whether his joke was good or not, most times she laughed because his jokes were just stupid but in a funny way

Liam is 3 years older than Jess, being 22 when they met in 2064 T.C. and 23 when he died in 2065 T.C. as he was born on Day 13 of Ayja’s Star/September 13th, 2042 T.C.

Jess’s situation is a bit similar to Cora Hallow’s, as Jess lost everything she loved and became a wandering gunner, and swore revenge upon the person responsible, where Cora lost her entire family (supposedly) in the fire of Saseraia and swore revenge upon Nymeria believing her to be the one responsible; The fact that actually Jess is descended from a bastard line (descended of a bastard child of one of Cora’s descendants- also can I just say, Cora had one biological child, a daughter, who was conceived using early, experimental artificial insemination technologies and paved the way for refinement of such technologies for same-sex couples- it’s not that important but I wanted to mention it cus why not) of Cora makes it kind of ironic because history is sort of repeating itself in a way.

The reason Liam was targeted by Kiara was that he found out what Kiara was through overhearing her talking to someone at his police station, and due to that, she wanted him dead because he was also getting in her way by rescuing some of the other people she wanted dead or killing the criminals she wanted to recruit. He was also planning to reveal to the world what she was.

Backstory: Jessamine “Jess” Belle was born the only child of a pair of general store owners in the Kingdom of Mijea on the coldest day of the year. Jess’s childhood is relatively uneventful, until when she was 17 in 2062 T.C., when the State of Mercenia invaded the Kingdom of Mijea, looking to absorb it into its territory as it was falling into chaos anyway. Jess’s parents die helping Jess escape. She flees the country and ends up passing out on the border of the Kingdom of Lavinia, being found by Kiara Malories (who is really just Aya having possessed Nymeria’s body and using the body appearance changing spell that was within Nymeria’s ability pool to make herself look different), who takes her in, on the condition, however, that Jess becomes an assassin working for her. Having basically no other choice, Jess agrees and is taught how to use a gun by another assassin in Kiara’s employ, as it turns out Kiara had a whole group of assassins and other people working for her for vastly different reasons. Jess begins her work as an assassin for Kiara by killing about 40~ people within the next 2 years (20 per year).

On the first day of spring (Day 1 of Xomura’s Star/February 1st, Note The Calendar of This World Is Different In Which The Year Starts In April Instead of January And Thus Ends In March) of 2064 T.C. Jess goes to a small hill with a cherry blossom tree on it, which was a spot she loved to go to think about everything. However, that day was different in a significant way: Jess met a tall man with maroon hair and eyes. She indulged him with some idle chatter, telling him her name was Everina when asked. As he talked (and flirted a bit) with her, she learned his name was Liam and that like her, he was one of the survivors of the Mercenian Invasion of 2062, but that he was spared only because he was not Mijean, rather, he was from Aleon, at least, he was born there, but his parents moved to the Kingdom of Mijea when he was young. Jess also learns he is a police officer, and due to that remains cautious of him, always being prepared to kill him in case he ever suddenly turned on her. However, as they continued to meet up together at that cherry blossom tree, Jess steadily began to trust him.

In Summer (Day 28 of Kaila’s Star/August 28th; Summer Starts On June 20th/Day 20 of Eros’s Star In This World; Also The Year Is Now 2065 T.C. As April Has Passed), Jess was invited by Liam to a “date” according to him, though she chalked it up to him just flirting with her yet again, but accepted the invitation anyway. He took her to a park where together they watched a meteor shower that only happened once every 460 years, and that the last time this meteor shower happened was around when Archbishop Briella, the first archbishop under the new government system and after the Second Great Theda Civil War, was on her death bed. After the meteor shower was over, Liam confessed that he had fallen in love with Jess, and conflicted, Jess asked him to give her some time to think. After a few days of thinking, Jess realized she had fallen for Liam as well, and asked him to meet her under the same cherry blossom tree that had met at originally, and when they both arrived, she confessed to him that she had fallen in love with him as well. She also told him that she had lied to him about her name, as she didn’t trust him originally, and revealed to him her real name was Jessamine or Jess for short. Liam, overwhelmed with joy, picked her up and kissed her, calling her “Mina” for the first time, and over time it evolved into a special nickname that only he was allowed to call her. Liam also laughed when he saw Jess’s extremely flustered face after he kissed her.

In Autumn, Jess and Liam’s relationship truly blossomed, and mid-way through the season, they made love for the first time. And, mid-way through the last month of the season, Harmonia’s Star, Liam proposed to her, and Jess accepted. However, near the end of the season, Jess learned her next target was a man named Liam Adelson. While she was distressed at first at seeing the name “Liam”, she calmed herself by telling herself that the Liam she was engaged to and Liam Adelson must be different people- but deep inside there was a feeling of dread that told her that the two Liams were the same person.

In Winter, Jess asked Liam what his last name was, and he said he’d tell her if she told him hers, and she agreed. He revealed that his last name was Adelson, and in shock, she slowly said her last name was Belle before collapsing onto her knees, breaking into tears. Liam asked what was wrong but she fled not even a minute later. For the next month, she avoided Liam as much as possible, but eventually, he found her back at the cherry blossom tree they met at together all the time in mid Aria’s Star (December). Jess revealed that she was actually an assassin and that all the murders that had been happening had been her and her colleagues working. She told him she didn’t have a choice because she had nowhere else to go. She had been lying to her colleagues that she hadn’t been able to find him anywhere and that’s what it was taking so long to kill him because she desperately didn’t want to kill him. Before Liam could say another word Jess fled once again. On the 31st of Aria’s Star (December 31st), Liam got Jess a gift: a very rare, very efficient revolver, having known she had a fascination with revolvers and had planned to buy herself one. While she had originally claimed she was going to use it for self-defense, Liam knew she was likely using it to kill people. Liam managed to find Jess under the cherry blossom tree yet again, presented to her his gift. When she asked why he had gotten her a revolver, Liam told her to kill him with it. It was made to kill people as quickly as possible. He had even gotten her bullets. He told her that he didn’t want her to lose her home, or neglect what she had to do. In tears, Jess told him she didn’t want to kill him and even suggested they just run away, but Liam told her that there were others after him and that he would likely die anyway, so if he was going to die, he wanted it to be by her hand. Before Jess could say another word he picked her up and kissed her. When he finally broke the kiss, he quickly grabbed Jess’s revolver, knowing she would be unable to gain the courage to shoot him, and shot himself for her, his last words being “I love you, Mina.”

That day, Jess ran away from Kiara and swore revenge against her.

And to this day, in the year 2070 T.C., she still looks to do that, waiting for the day she can kill Kiara and then kill herself so she can be reunited with Liam.

— Submission

Ah, yes, holding the gun that tilts the fate of the universe. Gumi songs always tend to have a really specific note to them and this one assuredly is wild and a lot to take in when you listen to it in the context of the Villainious series. Glad to see it play out, though. I think there’s something bittersweet about how she was forced to do this, but her love stopped her from having to stain her hands with his blood. Him taking the shot himself implies that he loves her enough to die for her if he must.

It’s upsetting that there was no way out. But, pain and grief in stories like this provide an arc for a character to follow and deal with, and perhaps her story will not entirely end in misery, but peace and resolution of the fate that she’s been dealt and what it means to be okay with where you’re heading and what you’ve been forced through.

#oc #ask #mod kait #littleghostlyrose #tw gun #submission

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